#died of injuries after the Great Battle

[thisonehere]

Kharacters reacting to you opening your eyes after they assumed you died

C/w: Angst, mentions of blood and physical assault, afab reader

Kitana

The battle had finally met its end, Kitana was able to push back the army of Shao to the point of retreat. A smile spread across her face at this victory... but this smile soon faded as she noticed something: she didn't see you anywhere.

"Y/n!" She called, expecting to see among her ranks. But you weren't there.

Kitana's heart began to race as she started to look this way and that for you, but you weren't anywhere to be seen.

With a hard swallow, she turned and started to search among the bodies of the dead soldiers.

She paused and rolled over the dead bodies, hoping that you weren't one of them.

Then she saw it, she saw your mangled body lying broken in the mass of other bodies.

During the battle, you found General Shao, or he had found you, either way, it left you in this condition...and he.... he...did this to you

"No..." Kitana bellowed as she went to her knees beside you.

Kitana has seen a lot of things, done a lot of things, but seeing your brutalized body...it-it just made her sick to her stomach.

She bowed her head and took your hand as she began to make a silent prayer for your soul. As she did, she began to blame her

You had initially wanted to stay in Sun Do, but she convinced you to come and fight. Now you're here, in this shape. If it wasn't for her, you'd be safe at home.

She thinks of the life you could have had if only you never came here. She even begins to question what your life would have been like if you never crossed paths with her.

Before she can finish her revere and her prayer, your eyes snap open.

Kitana lifted her head, and a slight gasp exited her mouth.

You attempt to move but only howl in pain at your injuries. Kitana's grip on your hand tightens "Stay still," she instructs, "We're going to find you help" She assures. This settles you down, her words are surprisingly calm to you.

Though your condition is severe, Kitana can't help but smile to herself at knowing you're alive. She wants to yell at you, scold you for being so reckless in going against Shao without her. But she cannot. She is just so overwhelmed with relief that you are okay.

Bi-Han

As grand-master of the Lin Kuei, Bi-Han had many duties to fulfill. But when evening finally fell and he had completed all his tasks, he had one thing that he was forward to: spending time with you. After the great betrayal that his brother and Tomas did to him, you stood by his side no matter what and for that he was truly grateful for.

He approached your room door and gently knocked it, hoping not to startle you. "Y/n, my beloved, may I come in?" he asked.

Bi-Han waited for a response, but none came. Just silence. Bi-Han was confused, normally you would have responded by now.

He knocked again, once again with no response.

Bi-Han couldn't lie, he was getting slightly concerned, almost afraid. This wasn't like you at all. Were you giving him the silent treatment? What did he do? Is there a way he could fix things?

His patience eventually wears thin and he kicks down the door. And there he sees you lying on the ground, in a pool of your own blood.

Bi-han felt his heart drop and his blood stop as he sees you. His eyes began to dart around the room and he saw the window open, by force by the looks of it. An assassin. Did his brother send them? It doesn't matter, not right now.

He rushes to your bleeding corporeal and picks you up. He doesn't know what to do, how long were you like this? He panics and lays you on the bed. He calls for a guard "Bring a medic, NOW!". With a nod they rush away.

For the next passing moments, all Bi-Han can do is stare at your body. He shakes his head as anger begins to build up within him.

He had so many plans and things he wanted to do with you. He wanted to place a ring on your finger, hold his first-born with you, hold you tight as you slept in his bed. He also knew you yourself had plans for the future, and now it is all gone. Something that will never be.

He sits on the bed and holds you tight in his arms. Your perfume fills his nostrils, a cruel mocking of what could have been.

He looks at you face, you look so beautiful and peaceful even in this state. He wanted to kiss it, but he realized that instead he will have to bury it.

You eyes splinter open all of a sudden.

Bi-Han lets out a sigh, he hadn't even noticed he was holding his breath.

You twist in pain, disoriented by what's happening. A sharp pain shoots through your body. "Don't move." He says, holding you tight. A surprisingly cool and warm sensation springs from his body into yours providing a slight comfort.

Bi-Han was relieved, he felt his heart slow down. He heard the guard and the medic coming this way and they would see him holding you. But he couldn't care less, all that mattered to him now was that you would be okay.

Raiden

Today's training at the Wu Shi Academy was nearly overwhelming, but Raiden couldn't but find it very rewarding. He was not excited for the next part of his day: seeing you.

He quickly gathered together as many flowers as he could find (he couldn't remember what you said your favourite was) and hardly made his way to your personal chambers.

He went to the door and raised his hand to knock. But he hesitated. Was now a good time? He didn't want to bother you. Did you even want to see him.

Finally finding the courage, he knocks lightly on the door. No response.

He knocked again, slightly harder. Once again there was no response. Raiden was starting to feel embarrassed, he turned to leave.

Raiden shook his head and turned back to the door. He was going to leave for Outworld soon, this could be one of the few times he could see you. He knocks on the door much harder this time.

The door slowly creaked open. Raiden then finally noticed that the door looked like it was kicked open, the lockset was knocked out of place.

Raiden felt his heart begin to race, he hesitantly entered your room and found it was a mess. It was filled with shattered glass on the floor, dents in the wall, and some splotches of blood here and there. It looks like a struggle has taken place.

Okay, now he was really concerned.

Raiden rushed in, "Y/n!" he called.

Turning the corner, he finds your body lying there on the floor close to your bedroom. You had a blood trail behind you, you were trying to crawl away. Either from your attacker or to get help. It didn't matter now though.

Raiden felt his heart stop, and he fell to his knees beside you. "By the Elder Gods, who did this to you?" he asked, his voice beginning to shake.

Who would want to do this to you, he thought, what monster would want to hurt such a warm, kind, smart, beautiful creature like you?

He felt his eyes burn, from both tears beginning to form as well as electricity beginning to crackle around his eyes. He didn't even have control over this, all he saw was red. He was usually a gentle person, but he felt something dark come over him here and now.

"I'll find them," He promised "I'll find them, I'll-I'll kill them!" His voice, though calm, had an air of intensity around. Seeing you like this brought the dark out of him that he tried so hard to suppress. But he could care less about it, not right now at least.

Without a warning, your eyes break open. Raiden felt the lightning in his eyes vanish. His anger subsided by surprise and relief.

You wheeze and twist in agony. You feel your broken lungs crunch as you try to speak to him, tell him everything.

Raiden shushes you as he gently takes your hand. "It's okay, Y/n, we'll figure this all out later. Now, we're going to help you."

His finger glimmered with a gentle electricity. he hadn't ever really tried to heal with his amulet before, but for now, for you, he was willing to try.

As he began to work on you, he shivered as he reflected on what happened to him. It felt like he had become a completely different person. A much darker person, a dark Raiden.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1 #mk1 2023 #mk1 #mk fanfic #mortal kombat 1 2023 #angst with a happy ending #soulmate au #mk x reader #mk x y/n #mk kitana #kitana #kitana x reader #bi han #bi han sub zero #bi han x reader #raiden #mk raiden #raiden x reader #afab nonbinary #afab reader #afab character

[heartpiratedrabbles]

Kids Anger

Prompt: Kid and you have a huge fight, and in anger, Kid tells you to leave

~ Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Kid X Fem Reader X Killer

Killer watched the two of you fight as he often did. He learned early on which fights to step into to become the peacemaker and which ones to stay out of. You were yelling at Kid for going out of his way to fight a Marine ship and while everyone was alive, quite a few people were injured and the boat needed some major repairs. Even you had been shot in the shoulder during the battle amongst other injuries.

        “We won, didn’t we?! Why don’t you shut the fuck up and get off my goddamn back then” Kid was laying it on thick he was towering over you and it had been long since the rest of the crew made themselves scarce from your fight. Killer was in the corner leaning against the wall but you knew better than to try and get him to pick sides.

        “That’s not the point Kid. It was senseless, We got hurt for no reason, Not to mention the damage to Victoria Punk!” You were after all in charge of the crew's finances. A job Kid had given to you when he was too drunk to pay something off and it turned into plundering the entire village. We were never truly low on berries, Kid made sure of that, but you still would like to keep it above a certain threshold. “Nobody died this time but what about next time!?” It was another great concern of yours, Kid had already lost an arm and it took him god knows how long to wake up from that. It’s a sight you’d rather not relive.

        The two of you had been fighting for quite some time on the matter and neither side seemed to be letting up in this argument as both of you shot daggers at each other. “If I decide we attack that’s final. I’m you’re captain it shouldn’t matter what you think.” Kid slammed his fist into the wall right next to you. You tried not to flinch at the sudden and aggressive movement but couldn’t help but let out a little gasp, deciding to stare straight into his chest rather than make eye contact after such a weak display. “You can’t even fight, what do you even do around here to dare think you should even get a say in what I decide?!” Killer perks his head up at the sudden change the argument was taking. “A useless bitch like you should just stay out of the way” Your breath hitches at his word and you hear Killer yell Kid's name.

        You straighten your back, glancing up at your captain, blinking tears to stay away. His glare back at you is menacing and pissed, Your voice turns lower but unwavering, “If that’s how you feel..”

        “Feelings have nothing to do with this, facts are I let an absolute useless person onto this ship” His words dripping with venom that stung more than your shoulder, “If you can’t even listen to your captain's order maybe you should just leave.” It took a second for his words to sink in, waiting for him to retract his statement. But soon enough you whisper a fine under your breath before turning away and leaving the room. You could hear Killer starting his own fight with Kid at this point but it didn’t matter.

        You make your way to the captain's room, it’s where the three of you stayed after all, and start packing anything of yours that could fit into a single bag. You wince a bit as your shoulder starts to bleed from a sudden movement but still refuse to let tears escape. You look in the mirror once more, noticing just how tattered and covered in blood your clothes were, deciding to change into clean clothes one last time before continuing packing. Once the bag is full you head back to the deck and climb down a rope into the debris-ridden water below. You remember seeing a rowboat across the way from the now half sunk marine ship and you intended to use it.

~~~

        “What the fuck Kid” Killer gripped Kid's shoulder and turned him around as he could see y/n escape into the hallway, “What was that all about?” Killer couldn’t believe the words he had just heard from his captain and lover's mouth.

        “She fucken deserved it. What makes her think she can boss me around?” Kid was obviously still pissed beyond belief, huffing with anger in every breathe. He brushes past Killer, “If you need me I’ll be in my workshop.” Killer let out an exasperated sigh before trying to go find y/n on the ship.

~~~

By the time anyone had noticed you were gone, you had already found a row boat and started drifting away in the opposite direction of the ship.

Killer had told the rest of the crew to tell him when they find you but he had only assumed you needed some space after such a heated debate. He didn’t even bother to check the Captain’s Quarters, he doubted you wanted to be in such a place right now, if anything you’d be in a corner hitting the wall or a tight space to breathe and calm down. But as time went on, he grew increasingly more concerned at not hearing or seeing you.

Kid emerged from his workshop a couple of hours after the argument, cooled down a bit, and tired. The sun was long gone as he made his way to his room. In the past, your arguments could get out of hand but Kid could still find you angrily sleeping in his bed next to, or on top of Killer, begrudgingly making room for him. This time on the other, neither you nor killer were in bed, or even in the room for that matter.

He looked around to see your discarded clothes tossed on the ground and he noticed a lot more blood than he’d care to admit, had she been covered in this much when we were fighting? Regardless Kid turned on his heel to search for his two closest crew members.

Soon enough he ran into Hip who was carrying medical supplies, “Oh, Hey Captain. Have you seen y/n? She still hasn’t come to get patched up yet despite promising me she’d come later.” Kid stares at her for a second before she chuckles a bit, “Or did you take care of the wound yourself? How kind. Just remind her to change her bandages.” Kid stood there processing Hips words and she walked away chuckling. She was hurt? Why the fuck did she start a fight before getting treated? Kid started pacing the ship before he ran into an equally worried Killer.

“Kid have you seen y/n?” The taller blonde seemed to be anxious.

“Does it look like I’ve fucken seen her?” Kid snapped at his first mate, “Where the fuck could she have gone?”

~~~

You lay in the boat looking at the sky. The pain in your shoulder growing. You grit your teeth into some clothe as your fingers try to dig the bullet out. After another failed attempt you let out a painful, sorrow filled scream. You had realized a little to late into your little journey that when you were shot, the bullet never made it all the way through.

Truly, it was a great distraction from the events post battle. As you finally breathe in again you let your arm trying to dig the bullet out fall onto the floor of the boat. The adrenaline must have worn off at this point. The pain truly setting in as your mind wanders to what Kid said to you.

Finally, after hours of pretending to be strong. You let it out, you place your now bloodied hand on top of your eyes as the tears overflow.

#One Piece #Kid #Killer #Kid x reader x killer #angst #part 1

[simp2537]

You don’t have request for the Darkling? Let me fix that (:

Someone wants to hurt Alek by kidnaping the reader so, Alek saves her and he’s mad AF

Touch her and die

a/n: I love writing over protective partners and stuff so I loved this. Also reader is a bit chaotic cause why not. Also made reader a Tidemaker.

Warning: kidnapping, language, blood, grisha hate, kinda bratty reader? Aleks goes psycho mode, injuries, drüskelle, mentions of Aleks and readers age gap

Aleksander Morozova x fem! Reader

It was an unspoken rule for all grisha, for all ravka, for everyone to not hurt his lover. It was no great secret that the Darkling, the Black general himself was absolutely smitten by his favorite Tidemaker. With her pretty e/c eyes and a pout on her rose colored lips she could get anything she wanted from her general.

His Tidemaker had grown up in a village boardering Fjerda, so grisha testers weren’t common to go there. In secret her older brother, also a Tidemaker taught her the ways of the grisha. Unfortunately a little ways after her nineteenth birthday drüskelle invaded her village and he brother died saving her life.

She ran through the thick forests of ravka with no idea where to go as they chased her when he appeared. His shadows cut through the drüskelle and not long after that the darkling infatuation with his Tidemaker became apparent.

Now his Tidemaker strut into the meeting he conducted, she was late. She walked right up to his side with a smile and adjusted some of the toy soldiers as he spoke. Then she walked right over to Zoya, who shock her head at her friend’s brazenness.

“You’re late, L/n.” Zoya muttered as she drew over the Ravkan maps. Y/n giggled softly as he began to help Zoya. Aleksander would glance back over at the pair every so offten. His Tidemaker clad in a black kefta with teal embroidery. He loved that she so proudly wore his color.

Her and Zoya began to giggle about something, probably a comment she’d made when one of the king advisors cleared his throat.

“Miss L/n have you something to add?” He asked cutting off the girls chatter. The room went quiet as she went stiff. Ivan and Fedyor shared a quick look as their generals eyes darkened. His tone was snobbish and rather rude.

He spoke as if he was better than she was, and it made her almost want to laugh as she turned. Slowly she made it back to the main table with the toy soldiers, this was a different plan than the one she’d just arranged. It was horrible and would lead to the deaths of many grisha.

Y/n would not sacrifice her soldiers when she could do better. Quickly she fixed up the arrangement with an empty look, Aleksander watched her in awe. As she finished she turned to the advisor with the same snobbish looked he’d given her.

“It seems you needed some assistance, don’t worry sir for I will always be there to fix the mistakes.” Y/n mocked as she bowed her head slightly. Aleksander chuckled slightly and moved a stray hair behind her ear. Such an open act of affection for his Tidemaker was nothing new, but for him to do it after she’d humiliated one of the king’s advisor was a risky move.

“Although Miss L/n was late she has fixed this plan to ensure the safety of all the grisha going into this battle. For that I am most grateful.” He amused as he stared at her. She smiled cheekily as she returned to Zoya’s side, a confident sway to her hips.

This was the last time Aleksander had seen her that day.

……………………

It was no secret that the darkling had a great many enemies, but as the fist collided with her face for the hundredth time, Y/n was growing tired. The kings advisor, whatever his name was had hired drüskelle of all people to kidnap her.

Of course her hands were bound apart and she was tied to the chair. She was surprised they hadn’t just killed her but she didn’t care. She was growing bored of all the punches. Her face was bruised, the right side more then the left, her lip busted, and she was sure at least one of her ribs were broken.

“It’s not to late to get me go you know.” She mumbled as she dropped her head back. Her hands quietly attempting to undo her cuffs.

“Drüsje your pleading for your life will not work.” The tallest announced. She sighed softly, he would come for her. If she was dead by the time he found her she knew all of Fjerda would pay.

“It would just be in your best interest.”

They all laughed and she joined in. Let them laugh, it’ll probably be the last time they do. She though softly.

“We will end you, and then we will break the darkling.” Y/n nodded softly at there words as they smashed their fist into her side. She groaned as she felt a rib snap.

“Then kill me, what is it you are afraid of?” Y/n taunted. They all froze, one of them brought there axe dangerously close to her neck.

“Will you not beg for your life?”

“Take it if it pleases you. It is not me who suffers when I’m gone.” They didn’t know what to say to that. They had heard the talks of the darkling whore. How she could boil the blood, pull the water from your body, freeze your nerves. But the women in front of them didn’t look the dangerous type.

“You aren’t the confident whore of the darkling we’ve heard tales of. You are just his pet he plays with from time to time.” Her face hardened at those words. She was not dressed in his color to be watered down to a simple whore. She smiled charming as she began to un click the cuffs.

“Most women aren’t as crude as you, they are modest.” Y/n giggled softly. She saw the shadows begin to move.

“Unfortunately for everyone I will keep doing whatever the fuck I want.”

Y/n snapped her cuffs and rolled her chair causing it to hut the ground. The shadows form into the cut and swore through the air above her. The shadows surrounded her till the familiar frame of her Sasha towered over her.

“Would mind untying these ropes?” Y/n uttered softly slumping against the grounds, her confident persona gone. The ropes were off and Aleksander pulled his Tidemaker to her feet. His hand clutched her face as he brought her in for a messy and passionate kiss.

She moaned softly into the kiss as he held her face. His hands slowly began to trail down and she pulled away with a wince.

“What is it?” Aleksander whispered as she clung to him.

“I think they broke a few ribs.” She whined as she lean into his frame for support. From the outside of the cabin she heard a few grunts, a scream or two and then silence. Aleksander placed his cloak around her shoulder in hopes of warming her.

“My healers will attend to you when we get back.” He placed a kiss to her head and began to pepper her hairline with kisses. The fear was evident in his eyes at her body. His eyes scanned her bruised face and body, her busted lip, the blood dripping down the side of her arm.

He hated that she’d gotten hurt so badly before he could save her. By the looks of her cuffs she was half way there in her own. With a slight waddle she made it to the door, with protest from her lover she pushed them opens, her jaw hit the ground.

Blood and carnage surround the cabin where she was kept. She limped her way through the bodies as Aleksander trailed behind her. Ivan, Fedyor, Zoya, and the twins were there.

“What happened out here?”

No one answered as Zoya hugged Y/n, attempting and failing to be cautious of her ribs. Aleksander pulled Y/n away after allowing Zoya to hug her, he didn’t want her to far.

“I thought they’d killed you… I lost my temper.” Aleksander admitted as he picked Y/n into his arms. Y/n stared at him for a moment.

“If this is what you do when you’re out of control, I’d hate to see what you do when you are.” Fedyor laughed softly as Ivan swatted at his husband. Y/n’s words were true. There wasn’t a thing in the world there general wouldn’t do for his precious Tidemaker.

#aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova x you #shadow and bone netflix #zoya nazyalensky #ivan x fedyor #answered #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan #general kirigan x you #the darkling imagine #the darkling x reader

[storiesoflilies]

Of Angels and Curses

Synopsis - In a world where Angels and Curses are locked in a never ending war, an unsuspecting seraph becomes entangled with the very thing she is fated to eradicate.

Pairings - Curse!Toji Fushiguro x f!Angel!Reader. Curse!Ryomen Sukuna x Reader. Angel!Satoru Gojo x Reader.

Warnings - Descriptions of violence and injuries, eventual smut.

A/N: Aaand he’s here!!!! Happy Valentine’s Day everyone, spread the love and feels, enjoy the chapter! <3 Ko-Fi.

Next Part - Chapter 5

-•-

Chapter 4

In the stillness of the dead of night, she felt it. An aura that somehow cast a veil of darkness so profound that it deepened the already foreboding sky of Hell. It was a spine-tingling symphony, a waltz of electricity, setting her heart pulsating with tantalizing anticipation. Unfolding in hues of emerald and midnight, it crept towards her, fueled by desire and urgency.

He’s here.

Y/N could feel him acutely, a phantom presence that transcended the actual physical distance between them. In the hushed serenity of her room, she sensed his approach to her – for her. Was she to be gathered and taken to his kingdom like a cherished flower? Or was she to be claimed and ripped away from Geto like a debt owed? It was as if she was a coveted prize rightfully won for eternally silencing the very thunder and might of the Angels.

Only a few hours had passed since her conversation with her brother, and she had only experienced bouts of fitful sleep amidst the pulsating back pain. So she had been awake well before she heard the door creak open and the light pitter-patter of footsteps approaching her bed. A hand placed itself on her shoulder, softly shaking it, and Y/N opened her eyes to look at who had disturbed her.

“Apologies for waking you,” a young girl with dark brown hair whispered softly. Another, her twin, with caramel hair, stood silently behind her. “Your presence is required, and we have been instructed to dress you.”

She knew these girls; she had seen them in Heaven not two moons ago. They were Geto’s young protégés, taken under his wing after their parents had died: Nanako and Mimiko. They must have chosen to follow him on his mission to rain hellfire upon Heaven. Y/N nodded her head, slowly rising from the bed, the sheets rustling as she moved. The twins hurried over, their arms hovering around her to support her while she found her footing. Despite the fiery pain in her back, she managed to stand, albeit shakily. Nanako swiftly moved over to the deep wooden wardrobe opposite the bed, and retrieved a black yukata from within it. Together, the twins donned the garment on her, and tied a simple white sash belt around her waist to complete the ensemble. Guided to the vanity table, Y/N settled onto the small wooden stool before the extravagant mirror, allowing the girls to brush and smooth her hair into a style reminiscent of Geto’s.

Indeed, she almost laughed at how similarly dressed she was to her brother. Had the twins done so intentionally of their own accord, or perhaps they had been ordered to? It was a powerful statement regardless; as if her and Geto were bound together by blood woven into the same familial tapestry, boldly asserting that she wouldn’t be so easily surrendered to him - to Toji. The twins seemed unperturbed by the charged atmosphere; Nanako looked almost irritated, while Mimiko displayed no particular emotion on her face.

Impatience.

“Mimiko, where is Suguru?” Y/N asked, hastily rising from the stool, spurred on by his emotions coursing through the bond, while the girls hovered close by her as she took urgent steps outside the bedroom.

Mimiko raised her eyebrows, perhaps surprised that Y/N even remembered her name, “He’s waiting for you in the throne room. We’ll take you there.”

The trio walked wordlessly down the seemingly endless corridors of Geto’s halls. The walls were made of dark stone, adorned with grand paintings depicting portraits, landscapes, and great battles fought both in Hell and on Earth. Memories of Gojo’s tower came to mind, but where his abode was pristine and crisp, Geto’s palace reflected his new enigmatic and frosty personality. Windows lined the top of the walls, yet no light shone through them, and Y/N doubted any ever had before. Perhaps no light could penetrate this deep into the Earth. How then, were they able to detect the passing of time? Did the residents of Hell simply yield to their passing whims, indulging in eating and sleeping whenever they felt like it?

She didn’t dislike that thought, it was almost liberating.

His aura intensified the longer they walked, and Y/N knew they must be approaching the throne room. She swallowed a thick lump in her throat, the gravity of impending events settling deep in her stomach. Her scar seemed sinister, a damning signature of Toji’s ownership; physical evidence that would be hard to deny his claim. After enduring her seemingly impending death in Mahito’s prison, she was going to face him again. Could he feel everything she experienced during her imprisonment? The air thickened in anticipation as Nanako opened the doors to the throne room, and they all stepped forward.

Y/N eyes immediately locked on to him.

The tension was palpable, charged with both peril and allure as they faced each other. His deep green eyes bore into her, dangerously enticing, moulding a direct connection between them that cut through the space separating them. His whole essence exuded power; his burly build commanded attention as he stood a considerable distance from Geto’s throne. His midnight hair was tousled, framing the contours of his jawline, and she couldn’t help but notice the scar gracing the corner of his lips; as deep and violent as he was. She was magnetized, her soul yearned for her body to be close to him, and yet she stayed put. The twins placed her to stand a step below the throne where her brother sat pensively, then quickly scuttled out of the room. The atmosphere seemed to have finally provoked a reaction from them, and perhaps they were wise to run from the scene.

Toji’s eyes hardened as he took her in, his jaw tightening, and his thick forearms flexed with barely restrained fury. A peculiar, worm-like Curse coiled around his build like a snake, reacting to the movement of its master. Y/N looked down, unable to bear the anger in his gaze, while Geto shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Bring him here,” Toji commanded lowly, prompting her to look up sharply at the sound of his voice.

He sounded like the rumbling of a distant thunderstorm; Y/N thought she could listen to him forever.

Geto nodded and waved his hand at an unseen servant lurking in the shadows behind the throne. Within seconds, a flaming portal materialized in the center of the room, and a disheveled Mahito tumbled through as if he had been forcefully shoved. He fell to the ground, undignified and pathetic, yet his eyes gleamed with all the madness of a cornered animal about to strike.

Rage.

A black flash tore through the air.

Toji reacted instantaneously, a violent burst of movement as he closed the distance between him and his prey with supernatural swiftness. He struck Mahito in a symphony of uncontrolled chaos, the ferocity of his brutal blows leaving no room for even an ounce of mercy. The air crackled as the tension broke through the whirlwind of Toji’s relentless attack, and Y/N felt an unsettling, sick sense of satisfaction, entranced by the visceral ballet of vengeance unfolding before her. Every strike echoed not only physically but also emotionally, as her kidnapper and Nanami’s killer finally faced his punishment. It was thrilling to even think that Toji was driven to such a profound level of violence just for her.

How much had she had changed since descending into Hell? Y/N found herself actually wishing pain upon a living soul – even one as black as Mahito’s – and it was a startling realization.

“You’re. A. Fucking. Child. You don’t know. What. The word. NO. Means,” Toji hissed between blows, his fury punctuating each word as he struck right into Mahito’s throat, robbing the Curse of any possibility of a reply.

His onslaught ceased as abruptly as it had begun, leaving the air heavy with the remnants of violence. Toji stood over the broken form of Mahito, his broad chest heaving; displaying a calmness that starkly contrasted against his previous fury. An uneasy stillness seeped back into the room, and Geto leaned forward on his throne, meeting Toji’s expectant gaze.

“What exactly did you have planned for this one?” Toji inquired, his voice now resonating like a loud thunderclap.

“I thought I would leave that decision to you, given the circumstances,” Geto replied carefully, his words deliberately measured.

Her brother appeared uncharacteristically reserved, walking on eggshells, carefully considering every word and movement in the presence of the superior king.

“Smart, but the question still remains of what to do with him,” Toji hummed, giving Mahito’s crumpled body a pointed kick. The Curse made no sound, lying there almost lifeless, yet his eyes and mouth were wide open, staring at Toji in shock.

“You can kill him if you wish, I have no objection,” Geto suggested.

He chuckled darkly and raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with her brother, “I don’t need your permission or approval. Do you need another reminder of your place here?”

Geto said nothing, and Toji’s threat settled heavily in Y/N’s chest. What sort of torment had he inflicted on her brother? Moreover, what had Geto done to warrant it?

“I can’t kill him, the others would ask too many questions,” Toji muttered, crossing his arms. “I assume you haven’t told anyone else about… this situation.”

“As far as everyone is aware, you are hunting Satoru Gojo’s wife to eliminate her and his possible spawn. Nobody is aware of Mahito’s involvement in all of this… or your bond with my sister,” Geto replied smoothly.

Toji’s eyebrows raised once more, and he smirked, “Sister, huh? What a happy family reunion.”

His forest green eyes swept over Y/N again, and she sucked in a breath as she felt her body sway under his intense gaze. Their connection snapped into focus again, and she could sense all the churning emotions within his soul swirling like a stormy sea. It was so curious how he somehow managed to maintain his cool and collected exterior, while she was crippled and barely able to speak. Geto cleared his throat, visibly irked, abruptly interrupting their moment. Toji’s eyes flicked over to her brother, annoyance flickering in his irises, and his anger rose steadily like a wave building momentum to crash onto the shore. She tensed, fists clenching, readying herself to bear witness to another episode of violence between him and Geto. Yet, she refused to stand by idly and watch; Y/N would defend her brother just as he had defended her. He had saved her life more than once, and she was worth less than nothing if she didn’t attempt to do the same. Of course Toji noticed her shift in energy, his eyes flashing as he let out an exaggerated sigh, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

Effort… dwindling anger.

“Mahito is to remain in prison for the rest of his days,” Toji gritted, eyes opening again to glare at Geto. “You say to the others that he deliberately hid her from me, despite knowing about the bounty, and this is his punishment. Is that clear?”

“Agreed,” Geto said, waving his hand once more. The same fiery portal appeared once more, sucking Mahito’s battered body back through it and zapping closed.

It was deathly silent now, and the pair watched and waited for Toji to continue his demands, the gears in his head turning as he deliberated.

“As for your sister, well… I have no cause to kill her. She is not pregnant with the Six Eyes’ child, and has obviously become one of us now. That’s what you and I will say if any of the others ask about her,” he continued.

Toji stalked towards the throne, his steps deliberate and menacing, until he stood a mere foot away from Y/N. He towered over her, staring deep into her eyes. Geto stood up abruptly, clearly unhappy with his proximity. What exactly he planned on doing she didn’t know, but her soulmate ignored her brother this time.

“Hey you, what’s your name?” Toji demanded, voice deep and haunting, lingering like smoke, as he addressed her directly for the first time.

“Y/N,” she whispered.

He licked his lips, savoring her name like a sweet, and a jolt of energy rushed through her as he hummed, “Do you want me dead, Y/N? For killing your husband.”

Oh, how she loved the sound of her name on his lips; it was divine. She could listen to him forever.

“He wasn’t my husband.”

Interest… relief.

Toji smirked, head tilting to the side as he continued. “I corrupted you, little angel. My sinful soul is bound to you now, and you’ve been cast out of Heaven because of me. Are you sure you don’t want to kill me anyways?”

Her heart hammered as he took a step closer, and she thought he might just reach out and touch her. Toji had figured out the reason for her becoming a curse quicker than she thought, but it wasn’t the only reason. Geto’s energy shifted dangerously, Y/N could feel his power gathering; dark shadows gathering beneath his feet like a serpent ready to strike if Toji took so much as another inch forward – who wasn’t fazed in the slightest. He stood taller than them all; a storm that wouldn’t be deterred from its course. She knew if he wanted to take her away by force, he absolutely could.

“No,” she finally said.

“Hmm, good. In that case, I think it best we have a little arrangement, you and I,” Toji said, finally turning his head up to acknowledge Geto.

“Such as?” Her brother asked, suspicion lacing his words, as his eyes narrowed, his power subsiding just a fraction.

“Consider us allies from here on out. I will not attack you, nor you me, although I doubt you even have the strength to attempt that. So long as Y/N remains here with you, she is not to ascend to Earth for any reason, and in return I expect that your doors are always open for me.”

Toji continued, his words reverberating throughout the room like thunder. “Us three in this room will not speak a word to anyone else of Y/N’s bond with me. You have enough enemies as it is Geto, and my old family aren’t exactly fond of me either. They all don’t need much excuse to kill a Fallen, you know.”

“You may be sending us both to war with this secret alliance,” Geto said. “The others will not appreciate an agreement like this. We are far too powerful united.”

Toji snorted. “We are by no means united, but let them try. If you both keep it together, nobody will figure it out.”

It was silent, and Y/N looked up at her brother, who met her gaze. She could discern any hint on his face as to what he would decide, but was it really a choice? If he said no, what would Toji do? Would it be considered war if he denied another King? In a way, it was just as when Gojo had proposed; only offering an illusion of choice.

“Well?” He huffed impatiently. “Do you agree?”

“Agreed,” Geto gritted, his jaw stiff.

Toji smirked, and looked down at her once more.

“Well then little angel, I’m assuming you would like to stay and catch up with your brother. I’m sure there’s so much you still have to talk about,” he mocked, sly and cruel, his scar stretching as he spoke down to her.

Y/N could only nod, his proximity both exhilarating and debilitating, but she was surprised. Toji had given her a choice, like a fleeting and fragile bloom that lingered just within her grasp. Geto had made it seem Toji would come plundering through his halls to whisk her away, dragging her deeper into his layer of Hell and all his sins. Y/N loathed herself in that moment, her injuries left her incapable of defending herself, and her grief silenced her from speaking up for herself. She was just a pawn in a chess game between monsters and gods; completely out of her depth, like a lost child, not much better than Mahito condemned in prison. Her back started to throb painfully, perhaps because she had been standing too long, or perhaps her self-depreciation had reminded her of the pain that had been there all along. Toji cocked his head at her, his eyes flashing, questioning her without words.

… apologetic?

“I suppose it’s getting late,” he yawned widely, fake and exaggerated. “Take care of yourselves and stay out of trouble, yeah?”

Toji snapped his fingers, and a flaming portal opened up behind him with a thunderous roar. He strode towards it, his back turned to them, the worm slithering menacingly around his arms in loops. Suddenly, he stopped just before the portal, his presence casting a looming and ominous shadow over the room.

And then, he was gone.

-•-

Soon, Y/N discovered, was entirely subjective to Toji’s passing whims.

Two months had dragged by since she, and even Geto for that matter, had seen her Curse in the flesh. Every morning, her heart leaped and mind raced, wondering whether that day would be the day she saw him again. But it never happened, and her brother thought it strange too, considering how fast Toji had arrived when he found out where she was. She couldn’t feel any of his emotions through their bond; perhaps it only sparked to life like a wildfire when they were about to stand face to face. Still, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling a piece of his puzzle had slotted comfortably into her being – a constant and comforting presence that she yearned for, but remained in the background just out of reach.

Despite Toji’s absence, Y/N threw herself wholeheartedly into her recovery process, taking it one day at a time. Her wounds had healed over nicely, leaving two large scars resembling whip lashes on her back where her wings had once been. Though they twinged from time to time, she was no longer crippled, and that was what mattered most. Geto had even resumed sparring with her, trying to help strengthen her muscles and body again, which stirred deep memories with her of her old life.

“You and Nanami fight exactly the same way, and you don’t even use anything I taught you,” he had commented under his breath, as he easily dodged Y/N, preventing her from landing a critical blow.

“That’s not a bad thing,” she huffed, irritated that she had not managed to land a hit on her brother yet. She was still too stiff and wildly unbalanced, partly due to the missing weight of her wings. However, she found she was far more agile than she was before – if only she could control it.

“Hah, you’re like a baby learning to walk,” he snorted, as she fell over quite hard into the dirt, having overestimated how far up into the air she could leap.

She glared at him hard, wiping the sweaty grime from her forehead. “It makes no sense. How can I jump higher without wings?”

“It’s a blessing about becoming a Curse,” Geto smirked, holding a hand out to help her up. “I like to think it was done to help us fight Angels flying in the sky, although most of us learn how to fly without wings with cursed energy.”

“I know that already, but why can’t I control it?” Y/N snapped as Geto hauled her up. She wasn’t really angry; it was more annoyance of her own failings, and her brother’s perfection: his perfect robes, his perfect hair with not a single strand out of place, and his perfectly annoying ability to excel at everything.

Geto laughed gently, “You will sweet sister, one step at a time. Now… let’s try again.”

And such was the routine most days. The mornings and afternoons were spent with sparring, while the evenings were dedicated to swimming in a large, deep pool underneath the palace. It was connected to different rooms within the palace, like her bedroom and Geto’s room, via secret passageways carved into the foundations of the mountain where her brother’s abode was built. It led to the center of the mountain, where there was a large pool, and another small, narrow passage that led directly out of the mountain. Y/N enjoyed it; the water was warm, perhaps even scalding, but her body had well adjusted to the heat of Hell. It was also secluded, which she greatly appreciated, allowing the pair to swim without any other Curses overlooking them.

It was during these evenings that Geto taught her the politics and ways of life of her new world, and it was not long after Toji’s visit that Y/N had asked him about the threat against him.

“In Hell,” Geto began, a dark look ghosting his face like a fog. “If you challenge a King to a fight to the death and they lose, you have every right to take their place. And that’s what happened. I won against the previous King – Kashimo Hajime.”

Kashimo had commanded the very lightning of storm clouds; Y/N had seen his portraits still proudly hanging in the hallways of the palace. With hair as vibrant as a cyan sea and eyes to match, he looked every bit as crazed and untamable as the power he wielded; a force of nature confined to a Cursed form. Their battle would have been a sight to behold, a spectacle beyond compare.

“You challenged him when you first turned?” Y/N asked, surprised, her eyebrows raised as her arms rested against the edge of the pool while Geto sat with his legs in the water.

He shook his head. “No, he tried to kill me. I killed him first.”

“Why’d he want to kill you?”

Geto kicked his legs in the water, splashing her from the side. “How do I put this? Not all Curses here seem to think beings like us are equal to them.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, that true-born Curses do not deem Fallen Angels to be proper Curses. They think we are inferior to them, and they do not trust us or respect us because we were born in Heaven.”

“So… he tried to kill you for being an Angel? But you chose to fall, and other Fallen Angels are no different to true-born Curses energy, they’re all the same.”

“I know that sister, but how can you try and explain prejudice? Because that’s what it is, and that is the way Hell is. There are more true-born Curses nowadays than Fallen than in the olden days of Sukuna.”

Y/N was perplexed. “Well, what about Sukuna then?”

“What about him?” Geto asked, using his arms to push himself off the ledge and propel himself into the pool. His broad strokes cut through the water, and he leaned his head back as he swam, soaking his silken hair.

“He is a Fallen, or have they all forgotten?”

“They conveniently forget, I suppose. Sukuna’s power as a Curse is so great to the point that one forgets who he ever was before. It simply doesn’t register that he is anything other than a Curse. He was the original Curse, from where they were all born, even if his origin wasn’t a true-born.”

They were silent for a while, and Y/N did a few more laps of the pool before taking a break and swimming back towards Geto.

“So Hajime tried to kill you for being a Fallen?” she asked, bringing the conversation back around.

“Not exactly,” Geto said, letting her hang from him behind from him in the water, her arms draped over his shoulders like a cloak. “He claimed he didn’t like my plans for the war against Heaven, but I think he undermined in front of the others, so he tried to kill me to teach a lesson to other Fallen about what happens when they try to lead.”

“That obviously didn’t work,” Y/N remarked quietly, leaning her chin on his shoulder.

“No… no it didn’t.”

“So, how did you manage to anger another King of Hell during your first month here? Idiot.”

“Hmm, I admit after killing Hajime that I became a little… cocky. I challenged Toji for the rule of the Second Layer, my reasoning being that it would be easier to wage my war if I had two of the most powerful armies behind my back. I’d acquired power rather quickly, I wanted more, and I suppose it got to my head.”

Geto grimaced, and looked down at the giant ragged scar that reached all the way from his torso to his chest. “This is the result of my said idiocy.”

We’re both marked forever by his brutality.

“Why he let me live, I don’t know,” Geto continued, gently shaking her off his shoulders and exiting the pool. “Maybe you can ask him the next time you have a chat.”

Her stomach churned and bubbled with nerves at the thought of meeting Toji again, but she said nothing.

“Is he… a Fallen?” Y/N asked uncertainly, apprehension in her voice. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer.

“True-born, traditionally procreated between Curses,” Geto replied smoothly, squeezing the water from his hair. “He belongs to the Zenin Clan of the Fifth Layer, where his cousin Naoya is King. Toji left the clan hundreds of years ago; I think it had something to do with his lack of cursed energy. He changed his last name to Fushiguro some time after that.”

“I see.”

Geto motioned with his hand for her to come over. “Come, let’s go and eat. I’ll tell you more about the rest of the Kings.”

Her brother was true to his word. As they ate later that evening, he told her everything he knew about them all. Sukuna himself had never ascended to Earth since the day he fell from Heaven, keeping much to his own kingdom – the Malevolent Shrine was his palace where he was almost a recluse. He apparently only bothered with Curse business within Hell, and even then he rarely emerged. Whenever the Kings of Hell decided to meet all together, Sukuna himself never came – instead sending his representative Uraume to watch, listen, and report back to him. What he did with that information, nobody knew, for there never was a reaction or repercussion.

The Fourth Layer King was called Jogo, a cruel and ill-tempered Curse that seemed to be born from the very volcanic mountains that spewed the Earth in ash and malice. Him and his retinue were the most mistrustful and hateful of her brother, turning up their noses to him as if they smelled something foul. Geto guessed they would be the first to declare open enmity toward him if it ever came down to it. Meanwhile, Naoya Zenin was a smug and pretentious bastard, according to Geto, who spread venom and lies with his honeyed words. The Zenin’s had ruled the Fifth Layer for nearly as long as Sukuna had been a Curse, and their prejudice was by far the worst, especially against those they deemed lesser than themselves.

Choso Kamo was King of the Sixth Layer, and Geto didn’t seem to know much about him. However, he was the first instance of the product between a Curse and Angel procreating together. Therefore, he had received much abuse from the other Kings before Geto had arrived – who was now the new target of their malice, but his strength as King kept them from overstepping thus far. He ruled both the Sixth and Seventh Layer; the latter not really a kingdom, more so a breeding ground for Curses to be conceived and born. It was Choso’s duty to root through the dirt and find gold, and more often than not his prodigies were taken away by other Kings to join their armies instead of his. Y/N couldn’t help but pity him, wondering what became of his parents, for she’d never heard of his story before.

Until it happened to her, Y/N never even thought a Curse and Angel could become soulmates.

-•-

Y/N pushed open the door to her bedroom, her fingers absentmindedly twirling her freshly washed and smoothed hair. Another thing she couldn’t get used to in her new life was the twins. Nanako and Mimiko waited on her, helped her bathe and dress every morning and night, and changed her bandages whenever her wounds were more severe. They helped her to navigate Geto’s palace, a blessing; the amount of times Y/N got lost was too numerous to count, and the twins had somehow known where she was every time. From what she could tell, the twins seemed to like her well enough, though perhaps that was only due to her relationship with Geto, whom they adored. Which was fair enough – trust and respect had to be earned. But she couldn’t help but feel they all shared the same battle of being Fallen amidst true-born Curses, and therefore she felt some kinship to them already.

Y/N hadn’t faced open disdain from any of the other Curses in her brother’s court. Perhaps some hesitant and suspicious looks, but nobody really went out of their way to speak to her. However, they weren’t entirely opposed if she came up to them with a question – mainly about her brothers whereabouts, or about the identities of the faces in the portraits on the wall. It was strange; she hadn’t considered the possibility of prejudice until Geto had mentioned it, and now it weighed heavily on her mind. Y/N felt she had to tread even more carefully to avoid inadvertently causing offense; her brother had already risked enough to save her life and keep her hidden.

She shut the door behind her, and clicked the lock shut for the night. Her eyes had somehow sharpened over the past two months, and she could now discern the slight darkening of the sky, signaling night had fallen on Heaven and Earth. It helped to structure a rough routine for a time to sleep. The twins had changed her bedsheets for her, opting for a deep mauve color instead of bla–

Y/N froze.

Her balcony door was swung wide open, definitely not as she or the twins would have left it.

She cautiously approached the door, her senses on high alert. Had someone managed to breach through all of Geto’s defenses and entered her room? The thought sent a shiver down her spine, and her mind raced with terrifying possibilities. Had the real reason she was in Hell become public knowledge, prompting an assassin to come and kill her? She lightly stepped just before the doorframe, peaking out onto the balcony.

Toji stood leaning casually against the bronze railing of the balcony, an air of nonchalance about him as he gazed out into the dark expanse beyond the mountain.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N exclaimed, apprehension and relief flooding her, her paranoia crashing down like a waterfall. His presence was equal parts alarming and comforting.

He turned to look at her, shrugging casually. “Just passing through,” he replied cryptically.

His gaze lingered on her longer than necessary, and she shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny.

“Does my brother know you’re here?” she asked, looking over her shoulder as if he was going to burst through her bedroom at any moment.

“Probably not,” Toji smirked, turning his body completely towards her, his green eyes gleaming. “I did say I would be paying you a visit, didn’t I?”

“Yes, it’s just… been a while.”

“I’ve been busy, little angel. Hell doesn’t run itself you know? I would have come sooner if I could.”

Y/N studied him for a moment, trying to detect any deception or malice in his expression or through the bond, but could discern nothing but familiarity and a strange sense of intrigue. However, here was her chance; now that she was stronger and more resilient, she wouldn’t let him dictate the course of this situation any longer.

“Well, whatever it is you want, next time don’t surprise me here. These are my private quarters,” she said, injecting irritation into her voice, a spark of bravery edging her on.

Respect.

Toji raised an eyebrow at her, clearly not expecting her to respond that way. “My apologies. Next time, I’ll make a formal announcement and wait for you in the throne room where everyone can see us together.”

It was silent for a moment, a little bit of tension seeped through the air with his sarcastic response. He cleared his throat, leaned his arms behind him, and tightly gripped the rails.

“Well, I hope Hell has been up to your standards. I know it’s probably not as nice as to what you’re used to,” he said bluntly, an underlying tone of nervousness in his words that satisfied her.

“It’s… different,” she said, not really sure what else to say and not wanting to cause offense. “But I’m content, if that’s what you really want to know.”

“Hmm, I’ll bet. Your brother being good to you, yeah?” He pressed, his arms rocking him back and forth against the rail.

“Always.”

“Good good. I’m glad. You both staying out of trouble?”

“Is that why you’re here? To see if I’m behaving?”

“Sure, why not?”

This side of Toji was a stark difference to when he was in front of Geto in the grandeur of the throne room. Now, in the quiet and suddenly intimate setting of her balcony, he was almost… softened. Did he not feel the need to flaunt his power in front of her? His apprehension was surprising, but Y/N felt almost empowered by this unguarded side of him. It gave her a newfound sense of control she didn’t have before, and she was growing into her new world, like a fragile blossom emerging from the soil trying to reach for the sun.

“You seem… much better than before,” he said slowly, gruffly, snapping her out of her train of thought. “Stronger.”

“Yeah, I’m managing,” she admitted. “All my wounds have nearly fully healed. Geto has started training me again, it’s been good for me.”

Toji smirked at her, “Good to hear, you ever beat him?”

She smiled, a real one, and his green eyes sparkled at the sight of it. “Not yet.”

More.

“Hmm, maybe I can teach you my way to fight,” he suggested, a playful tone lacing his words.

“Maybe,” Y/N mused, walking slowly towards the railing and leaning against it, still keeping some distance between them.

She felt Toji looking at her with interest, making her face burn, and he turned around to lean against the railing once again. ““Humor me on this, though. How did you actually fight properly with wings? I mean, surely they’re just in the way.”

“Not really, I just did I suppose. The same way you can tell when night falls in Hell, even though it’s always dark.”

They stood together in silence, the warm night air carrying the distant sound of the city below the mountain. Toji wasn’t here to stir trouble, Y/N finally decided, as her earlier apprehension melted away. There was no hint of anger from him; instead he seemed almost… relaxed.

“I don’t think I would wish for them back though,” she continued, not sure where the urge came to open up to him, but it was there nonetheless.

“No?”

“No, I think I’m too used to being without them now. I feel… different, but it’s better.”

“I see.”

It was quiet again, before Toji asked slowly, “Did it hurt when you lost them?”

“I think so… I don’t really remember. I was in a fever dream; I couldn’t really feel or see anything at all really.”

He tensed, gripping the rails tightly. Y/N almost swore she could see the bronze metal bend just slightly.

“I could feel you were sick, you know?” He stated, his voice hard.

She was surprised at this. “Really? I can only feel you when you’re close.”

“I don’t really know how all this works, maybe it’s different for each of us.”

“Maybe…”

“Anyway, I could feel it. I didn’t know exactly what it was. It makes sense now you’ve told me, but at the time I thought your mind had broken.”

Y/N sighed heavily, “It did… I think I saw strange things. I don’t really want to remember.”

“I can imagine,” Toji muttered, his tone almost gentle.

They were silent for some time, comfortably so, watching the horizon. Y/N was the one to break the silence this time.

“I don’t think our bond was the only reason I became… a Curse,” she admitted, her voice trailing off.

“How so?”

Y/N bit her lip nervously, grappling with the sheer weight of what she was about to admit. Toji tilted his head at her curiously, patiently waiting for her to answer, his rapt attention making her even more shy. She took a deep breath in to steady herself before continuing.

“I was willing to stand with you against Satoru… I didn’t want you to die by his hand.”

Interest… surprise.

“And that’s enough for you to get exiled?” Toji asked slowly, digesting the information. “That’s harsh,” he added, his voice laced with disbelief.

“Yes, because I made the choice to betray my own kind, and I would have been in between you both if Nanami hadn’t stopped me. He would have done it too, I think, if I wasn’t… injured.” she said the last part slowly, carefully, softly. The memory of Nanami still brought her to tears if she didn’t steel her heart against the onslaught of emotions.

His emerald orbs softened, and he moved just a fraction closer to her. “Your friend must have cared a lot about you to risk condemning himself to Hell.”

“He was the best of us,” she sniffed, her firsts tightening, holding her breath to steady herself.

It was quiet for a long time after that. The gravity of Nanami’s sacrifice weighed heavily on her shoulders, and Y/N doubted she would ever be free of it for as long as she lived. She stole a glance at Toji, trying to find solace in his presence, but the question remained – was he going to prove himself worthy enough to justify Nanami’s death? The wind whispered mournfully, lamenting everything she had lost to bring her to this moment: her home, her wings, Satoru.

“Listen, I-,” Toji started, closing his mouth abruptly, clearly searching for the right words to say as he avoided direct eye contact with her. “I just wanted to say, I’m sorry for what happened.”

He was tense; clearly this was new to him – apologizing. She whispered, “What for exactly?”

Toji rolled his eyes and huffed, “For nearly killing you, what do you think?”

The scar on her stomach tingled with a faint, phantom-ache, and she instinctively placed her hand over it. Toji’s gaze followed her movement, his frown deepening, and his fists clenched the bar even tighter this time.

Shame… self loathing.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore, and you didn’t know any better,” she said, her voice soft as she placed her hand back on the railing.

He pursed his lips but said nothing, his gaze fixed on the city below. The air fell thick with tension again, heavy with both their emotions, as they both grappled with the weight of their unspoken regrets. Y/N wanted to change the subject to lighten the solemn veil over them, and to unravel the stories and battles that had sculpted the myserious Curse standing beside her.

“So you can feel me, huh?” Toji said suddenly, nearly making her jump, but there was a lighter tone to his voice. “What does it feel like?”

Y/N smiled shyly, searching for the right words. She couldn’t possibly tell him that he felt like smoke and lightning – powerful and elusive, utterly out of her grasp, and she doubted she would ever understand it.

“You feel… familiar. Like I’ve known you for a very long time,” she finally said, settling for a much less daunting truth.

His gaze became kinder, and he rested his head against his hand, staring at her and making her feel shy all over again. “I know what you mean.”

“What does it feel like for you?”

“Hmm… like you’re there all the time now, in my head. It’s like you know what I’m doing all the time, and you’re watching me. I feel I don’t have to tell you things because I think you already know everything.”

“I actually don’t, and I have been wondering what does a King of Hell do all day long?”

Toji’s lip twitched, “Oh? Does your brother not tell you what he gets up to?”

“I’m asking you, not about him,” Y/N rolled her eyes, smiling.

“Well,” he grunted, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “I mainly handle my armies strategies and organization. I make sure they’re running well, and if they’re not, well, then that’s where I come in.”

“And when all is well in war, what then?”

“And then… maybe I’ll lend an ear to whatever squabbles the other Curses are having, but if I can avoid it, I will.”

“So that’s what you’re doing here then?”

And he finally laughed, a glorious and heart-stopping smile spreading across his face. Y/N was transfixed, her soul suspended in time at provoking such elation from her soulmate.

“No,” Toji chuckled. “Your company is just so much better than theirs, obviously.”

“Obviously?” She teased, feeling a flush of heat grace her cheeks.

He hummed in agreement, “Of course.”

An endearing and shy silence filled the air, and they enjoyed each other’s presence in comfortable tranquility, a paradox to the supposed suffering and agony in the depths of Hell. Toji shifted beside her, lifting his weight from the railing, and cleared his throat.

“Well… I suppose I better take my leave,” he announced softly, taking a few steps backwards from her.

“Might be best, I’m sure your subjects are wondering where you are,” Y/N jested, smiling. Her inner soul was jumping, and she tried her best to ignore it. She knew it wanted him to stay, screaming don’t go in a silent cry through their bond.

Toji’s eyes glittered, a genuine smile quirking his lips as he chuckled lowly, a gesture just for her. “You might just be right.”

He lifted his right hand and snapped his fingers together, conjuring a sizzling portal of flame that opened up behind him in a mesmerizing display. Y/N couldn’t tear her eyes away from him as the warm orange glow of the portal enveloped him, casting him in an ethereal light that illuminated every contour of his face. She felt a pang of longing as he stood there, a transient and fleeting embodiment of sinful allure against the obsidian backdrop of Hell.

“Sleep well, little angel,” Toji mumbled, soft and rumbly, his green eyes almost glowing.

“Goodnight, Toji,” Y/N replied, her voice quaking with all the unspoken feelings of her soul that she couldn’t possibly express in that moment.

He smiled at her and disappeared through the portal, leaving her grasping at the lingering wisps of his presence.

-•-

taglist: @kkhaosxx @better-imagination-9 @gabrielle2013 @angelheavensblog @cyberang3lic @justmarlen3 @pinknipszz @moonwingeys @luzzbuzz @hornabbyyy @mitsuyasblackwifey @chosolover736 @spookyjyestha @elisqq @sillyrings978 @littlekittensoftpaws93 @starryluv4 @99k4manii @maid4nanno @chososrealwife @iloveitwhentheyrunnn @kamoslut @rubyrose2014 @hannah5max

#jujutsu kaisen #toji x reader #gojo x reader #sukuna x reader #soulmate au #jjk au #female reader #gojo satoru #ryomen sukuna #fushiguro toji #toji fushiguro x reader #toji smut #sukuna smut #my writing #jjk toji #jjk angst #jjk x reader #jjk smut #choso kamo #namami kento #naoya zenin #jogo jjk

[epkot94]

Had a great idea for a Spirit Halloween fic!

Ok so I know people tend to write the Infinite Realms as being connected to all dimensions, so imagine when FlashPoint Paradox occurred (it created a completely different timeline for the DC universe before it was corrected by the Flash, one in which Bruce Wayne died in the alley) the ghost of Bruce Wayne came into existence in the infinite realms.

Clockwork is aware that reversing the changes to the timeline will destroy ghost!bruce but he uses his power to protect him and keep in existence. Because ghost!bruce has to exist so he can be in the right spot so when a portal opens up he can fuse with a boy named Danny and save his life.

DP canon proceeds for the next year or two, by this point Danny has revealed his halfa status to his parents but he’s still unaware that he’s bonded to a ghost (maybe the bonding event knocked ghost!bruce unconscious?) and after some time and a lot of talks they’ve come around to the truth that ghosts are actually sentient and just like humans some are good and some are bad.

Unfortunately the GIW are still around and with years of public ghost appearances and battles, all the footage and proof they’ve built up leads to the government deciding to expand the GIW. More agents, better training and more weaponry. Their mission statement goes from discovering ghosts weaknesses and studying them to complete extermination.

Some big fight between Phantom and some agents happens and maybe there were some bystanders killed, maybe Tucker and Sam or the rest of the Fenton family? And the sheer trauma of the event as well as the injuries Danny gets pushes through his bond and wakes up ghost!Bruce.

Because of the bond Bruce is aware of Danny’s memories and has subconsciously been learning with him as well as “aging” (he might just be subconsciously shapeshifting to match Danny’s age).

And now Danny is starting to hear a voice in his head, trying to comfort him, promising that he’ll never be alone. Freaked out, Danny travels to see Frostbite thinking he’s finally going crazy but gets waylaid by Clockwork, who finally reveals this whole convoluted plot he set up to prevent Danny’s death from the portal and ensure that Danny Phantom would come to be.

*I’ve always liked the idea that Clockwork aims every dimension toward the timeline with the best outcome, but Danny’s has always been difficult to see clearly so clockworks mostly making plans on the fly ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I have no clue what happens next because my brain went straight to Danny and ghost!Bruce working together to figure out how to split, and eventually starting to grow feelings for each other the longer they’re aware of each other.

Eventually, something’s leads them to going to Gotham (I imagine Danny is in his mid 20s at this point) and they decide that with the GIW growing more dangerous they need to actively search for allies, ghost!Bruce doesn’t have super clear memories of his living life, probably doesn’t even really remember his name, but he does have a memory of a voice saying something along the lines of “Wayne’s always help when they can” and hey Bruce Wayne is Batman’s auger daddy, maybe he can get them an in with the JLA?

#imagine the chaos of the batkids seeing a young ghost version of their daddy dearest #one who uses awful puns like Nightwing #and apparently knows how to actually use his words #danny phantom #dp x dc #dc universe #danny fenton #dc x dp #batman #bruce wayne #Spirit Halloween #bruce x danny

[cillianmesoftlyyy]

In Love, in War Pt. 1 | Thomas Shelby x Reader

Summary | She (the reader) comes from a wealthy family in Birmingham, England and he (Thomas Shelby) comes from a family of no-good troublemakers in Small Heath. Their worlds finally collide when Thomas lands himself in the triage tent of a nearby hospital camp during the battle of the Somme with a neck wound. Past traumas and heavy-handed words open old wounds, and yet, they always find their way back to Birmingham.

Warnings | Blood, gore, mentions of sex (not yet explicit), war, death, and out-dated language ("Gypsies").

Hey- Pixies 🎶

Bodysnatchers- Radiohead 🎵

Word count: 1812k

Not proofread- my b, folks!

..............................................................................................................

Yes, she knew of the Shelbys, who didn’t? She just didn’t really care. She kept her life away from the dark underbelly of Birmingham, and more focused on the bright future in front of her. She was born into a good family with sterling silver spoons in their tea set and barbs strung into their pearls. She was destined for great things, good houses, and well-groomed men with boring Christian names. That was until the beginning of the Great War and most of those men died in the pits of France and Germany. She was engaged once too, to one of those men. 

His name was Frances Gild Jr. and he loved her. He was the heir to a banking fortune with a passion for the arts. He was beyond beautiful with short blonde ringlets and blue eyes. Her daddy loved him and blessed the union when Francis asked for her hand, sliding a large diamond engagement ring onto her finger. That was two months before Britain joined the war. They were still naive enough to sneak behind the kitchen into the distant sheds to have their way with one another. They were young and prudent so their kisses were prideful and polite. Their love-making was brief and unexceptional, legs splayed in the air and fine silk ripped by old sawdust. When the war began, Francis was 20, two years her senior and assumed he was ready for war because his daddy was a Lieutenant. 

There was no time for a wedding, at least that’s what Francis said as he rushed to the front. To wait for his return and to do her part in the war effort, she trained as a nurse. Was she a good nurse? Not particularly. She often fainted from the sight of blood which brought discomfort simply from her period much less an amputated appendage. But she learned how to cope, mostly. The smell of blood was the hardest to ignore. It seemed to never wash out as much as she scrubbed beneath the beds of her nails and behind her ears, the smell was a constant companion. 

It took her a couple of months to complete the basic training course but soon after she was sent to a hospital in London to work on more serious injuries before going directly into the field. She was allowed to go home on the weekends to visit her parents in Birmingham’s wealthier neighborhoods. The job was hard and it didn’t pay well but it afforded her a bit of peace in the whole ordeal, knowing that she was helping English soldiers in some small way. She felt like she could reach Frances through these patients who came in for breaks and fractures, not gunshots or paranoia. It was during one of these long night shifts that she received the telegram postmarked from Frances Gild. She opened the envelope without concern, having received one a week since the beginning of April. That is the night she learned that Francis Gild jr. had died somewhere on the western front, spoiling in mud like old fruit. She’d overlooked the postage from Birmingham, assuming it was just another letter from her fiance, which it wasn’t. It bore his death in plain script, emotionless and frigid. 

���FRANCIS DEAD STOP KILLED IN ACTION STOP WILL SEND NEWS STOP GOD BLESS STOP.” 

She dropped the yellow paper on the clean linoleum floor and felt her jaw fall open in a shocked gasp. Nurses on the night shift rushed to quiet her or comfort her. She paled and clutched the sharp edge of the desk for support. 

“It will be ok.” Voices whispered in her ear. 

“You poor soul.” Others crossed themselves like preventing a bad curse, a hex. A dead fiance disease that carries onto young well-meaning women in close proximity; more always follow the first. 

Francis was the first for her. He was many of her firsts. In a cab back to Birmingham, she thought of the first time they had made-love. He’d finished in a matter of minutes, panting against her chest like a puppy. His eyes bore into her with more passion than his thrusts. He was her first kiss, stolen after dinner behind the china cabinet when the adults had gone through to tea and brandy. That man was dead now, and she imagined his beautiful blue eyes closed forever under the casket’s heavy lid, buried somewhere in his family’s mausoleum outside Birmingham. And what did this leave her? Not a widow, and yet, she believed in a way, she was. 

She was excused from service for three months, allotting her the same mourning period as a widow though she officially lacked the title. She was nearly two years into her training when Francis died and the war waged on in countries that seemed so far away from her house on Claremont. When she was called back to service, she went with a black armband and her light blue uniform. She was dispatched to France and left right away with a British medical unit, relieving the unit stationed at the Somme. During her months of mourning, she had avoided newspapers and prints about the war in France, so the Somme meant nothing to her. They were escorted in large covered trucks with heavy trunks of supplies and rations. Americans followed behind, whistling after the young nurses like the warning knell of a whizbang. 

The medical camp was a shock for her in sight, smell, and noise. Distant bombing and gunfire rang in her ears and vibrated the very pit of her soul. Blood and the threat of blood was as thick as the mud encircling the camp. She thought back to the sterling silver spoons of her youth as she waded through the fecal matter and mud to the office tent. She was assigned to triage. 

“Just assess the situation. Write down the serious injuries, treat the basics, and set those aside who will live for the next few hours. Use your judgment, girls.” The head nurse directed them, holding the girl back as the others hurried to the triage tent. “Word of advice?” The head nurse pursed her lips. 

“Yes, ma’am?” The girl responded. 

“Take off the armband, you’ll look like the Angel of Death out there.” 

She removed the armband strapped around her arm as she moved to the triage tent. Soldiers screamed and pleaded for assistance while others lay dying and without the strength to speak. She followed the movements of the other nurses, checking the bodies and scrambling for pencils and paper dotting with blood and mud. 

“Please help me!” One boy cried and grabbed her sleeve. She recorded his injuries and sent him to the hospital tent. 

“You’ll be fine.” She called after him as he disappeared through the thick canvas drapes. 

She marked down the men she saw who could not be saved and passed them along with a sorrowful shake of her head. The men she saw passed her by in blurs of colors and sounds like silent films in fast motion, a puppet book whose pages flip so fast that a story appears between them. 

The second week she was moved to the hospital tent which doubled as the operation theater. She was not formally trained in surgery but had picked it up in the months of study and shadowing she managed to procure in London. As long as her patients didn’t die, the doctors were willing to let nurses take over due to the lack of helpful hands and skill. Her long habit-like nurse’s cap was pinned up to her head to prevent the veil from falling into open wounds. She washed her hands as another patient was carried into the tent.  

“God dammit.” One boy cursed loudly, clutching his neck with a dirty palm. She scanned his body for further damage and accessed the neck wound. 

“Large cut from metal shrapnel. Some kind of grenade.” A second nurse who had followed the stretcher with the patient. 

“Thank you, Mandy.” She nodded to the nurse. “Sir, I need you to move your hand from the cut.” She spoke loudly over the man’s curses.

“Fuck that. I’m gonna bleed out.” He growled through his heaving breaths. 

“You’ll bleed out if you don’t move your bloody hand.” She retorted, her hand full of gauze. “I’ll pack the wound so that I can look at it, ok?” 

“Fuck me!” He yelled at the tent’s ceiling and reluctantly moved his hand. Blood spurted out from his neck before she could clamp the clean gauze down on the agitated wound.

“Ok, ok.” She soothed, frantically applying pressure and wiping the area with strong alcohol. “Mandy, hold this against the wound, I need to close it.” She ordered and switched with Mandy, rummaging through a cart of supplies with bloody hands. She removed a surgeon’s needle and thread for stitches. 

“She threaded the needle and pierced the skin around the wound with the needle, pulling the two sides of flesh together with quick movements. 

The soldier screamed and thrashed on the ground. 

“I need help over here!” She yelled over her shoulder. Two men ran over and held his arms down as she tried to finish quickly. 

“I’m sorry, sir!” She weaved the needle through one last time and tied it off. Pouring alcohol on the finished stitches, she caught her breath. “It’s done.” She gasped out and nodded to the men. They released the soldier who looked to be on the verge of unconsciousness. Mandy removed the bloody gauze and moved to the next patient.

“Give us some of that.” He panted and pointed weakly to the bottle of gin she’d been using to clean wounds. She handed it over and he took a strong swig of the horrible drink. 

“I hope,” he panted, “that I never have to see you again.” He handed back the bottle. 

“I wish the same, sir.” She nodded and stood. His hand shot out from his side and gripped her wrist with renewed strength. 

“What’s your name, nurse?” He tried to smirk. She noticed his large blue eyes as she told him. He loosened his grip on her wrist and gave a nod. 

“Thomas.” He swallowed. She paused for a moment, registering his clipt cocky accent. “Pleased to meet you.” He added when she said nothing. 

“You’ll be taken back to the infirmary to rest. Try not to move your neck because you may loosen the stitches. Don’t waste the stitches, Thomas.” She joked lightly. 

“Is that what you care about then?” He smiled. 

“What?” 

“The stitches.” 

“Yes, and you by extension. Your life is my responsibility but stitches cost money.” She laughed and stood again. 

“Good to know where we stand.” He called softly from the ground and she allowed herself to smile as she met the next group of patients.

...................

End part 1 :)

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy #cillian x y/n #cillian x reader #smut #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #cillian fluff

[ofstardustanddreaming]

AHHH!!! I saw that you write for my FAVORITE character ever which gale from bg3!

So if you haven't done this already could you please do some cuddle time with him? I need the fluff 🩷 thanks so much!

this is genius, i love Gale lol. cuddling with him would fix every issue i have. i also hope you don't mind if i took the request in a slightly different format! i wanted to do the 4 times character does x, and the 1 time you do x.

cuddle bug

oneshot summary: 4 times gale initiates cuddles with you, and the 1 time that you initiate cuddles with gale. (gale is a major cuddle bug and would love pulling you in at any point. not that you wouldn't pull him in for a cuddle, he just loves pulling you in more.)

content warnings: none

fandom: baldur's gate 3

character: gale dekarios x reader

gender neutral reader

one: The first time that Gale pulls you into a cuddle session is at camp, and you're both new to the relationship. It's a nerve wracking way to make contact, and it feels awkward. But it's warm. He wanted to cuddle and be close to you, and what better way than to do it awkwardly.

The night is warm and fireflies are flying around everywhere. The camp members are enjoying themselves for the first time in a couple months, where missions are completed and there's a little bit of down time to enjoy the night. You and Gale officiated your relationship last week, and now have the first night to enjoy the branching of your relationship.

You sit next to him at a more secluded area of the camp, ensuring a moment of silence for you both. Gale grabs your hand as you both talk the night away, the feeling of warmth causing you to shiver.

"It's a nice night. And you're a great leader to be able to pull this off tonight." He glances over at you, both of you smiling at one another. Then he does the unexpected, where he pulls you into his arms, holding you close. You lean into the warmth of his embrace, enjoying the body heat when you're both away from the fire.

He pulls you over to his bed roll to continue the cuddle session, where you both felt a bit odd about it. You could never figure out if you were applying too much pressure, or if you adjusted yourself if that would create an issue of moving too much. Sure, it was awkward. But it allowed you both to know what cuddling positions you'd love moving forward.

two: The second time Gale pulls you in for a cuddle is after an intense session of a battle. He was worried that you had died, and never wanted to let you leave his arms again.

The fight with Thorm nearly took you out, your health very low. Shadowheart barely managed to keep you alive with her healing, but advised you get strong rest before moving on to the next quest to be filled. Gale, the man that he is, was sick with worry throughout your entirety of healing.

He found himself sitting next to you while you rested, very hesitant to touch you within the first few days, not wanting to make any injuries you had worse. But when you show some signs of being on the mend, he wasted no time laying down next to you, pulling your head on his shoulder and wrapping his arms around you as delicately as possible. He didn't want to move you too much, knowing that it can worsen injuries. But it was a nice initial point for him to have.

"Gods, you had me worried deeply for a while there." He murmurs to you, who's barely conscious to hear him say that. He slowly runs one hand over your arm that had reached over to wrap around your chest.

He just wanted to see you safe, the worry he felt seeing you on the brink of death was enough to shake him. He vowed from then on to be as much of help as possible to you in fights.

three: The third time Gale pulls you in is when he senses you've had a bad day. He's never one to shy away from the thought that a good cuddle session can fix a bad mood.

He finds you kicking dirt around on the outside of camp. You have the list of quests in your hand, frustrated at how much needed to be completed. You truly want to be helpful to them, to help as many people as you can, but it was burning you out at both ends. Something that Gale could tell, and his heart hurt for you.

He approaches you where you are, grabbing you by the shoulders. It takes one gentle look from him for you to start choking on your cries, and he pulls you close. He knows you need the lightest cuddle session to help you feel better, with light bouts of praise from him. Which is exactly what he supplies.

He wrestles you over to his tent, the headache you have pounding away. The dusk of the night was coming upon you all, and you feel as if there would be no time to sleep if you had to get to these missions soon. But he pulls you down with him, ensuring you were comfortable.

"Oh, sweet love, you're doing so well. You have the weight of the world on your shoulders right now, but you're doing so well." He says, the way he was cuddling with you feels like a weighted blanket. It lulls you to a calm sleep that night, to wake in the morning with a fresh start.

four: The fourth time that Gale wants cuddles is after an argument. You both always need a breather after an intense argument, but you'll always find your way back to each other to talk things through, and then move into comfort of each other's arms.

Oh, the argument was massive. It took a toll on you both, where eventually the camp had to pull you guys away from each other to cool it down. They really felt worried when Gale's magic started sparking, not wanting the orb to go off, and you had your hand on your weapon, they didn't want you to pull it out to start swinging.

The camp had split off into teams to watch over the both of you, letting you both get what you needed to off your chests. Then they would all shove you towards each other to say those rants to one another in a calmer fashion. You both speak with a softness to one another now, trying to see the other's viewpoint.

"I'm so sorry love." Was how Gale responded to your responding of love, and he pulled you in close to him. He is usually the first to reach to you after an argument as well, wanting you in his arms as quick as he can.

You lean into the touch, craving the touch of the man you love. You're always there to accept it, glad he would be the one to offer, always nervous about the rejection if you offered it. You always tend to worry after an argument, if he would ever take you back. So it always makes you happy that he wants to cuddle you close after such an argument.

one: The one time that you pull Gale in for a cuddle session is when he's had a bad day. When he's had a day of insecurities, wondering if he's good enough for you, is when you know you have to pull him in. He'll be too nervous to seek you out. He finds solace in your arms at night, getting comfort from you when you hold him and say he's enough.

Mystra had really done a number on him. He felt he had to live up to imaginary expectations you had in order for you to still want him. It takes time to get over that sort of line of thinking, and you reassure him that you'd never leave him based on what he thought you would want from him.

"I don't expect you to be perfect, or to be a strong wizard in order for me to be with you, you know. I'm with you Gale, because you're the kindest, sweetest person who does kind things for me. Such as cuddling me when I'm feeling down. You brighten my days with your stories." You comfort him, pulling him into your chest, where he buries himself into your neck.

"I don't ever want to leave you." You whisper to him, letting him get every ounce of emotion out on you, as you run your hands through his hair. He sighs shakily, and you feel the tears on your neck. It's a quiet night, nothing more is needed as you continue to whisper praises into his ear as you both fall asleep.

#bg3 #bg3 imagine #bg3 oneshot #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 imagine #baldur's gate 3 oneshot #gale #gale imagine #gale oneshot #gale x reader #gale dekarios #gale dekarios x reader #gale dekarios imagine #gale dekarios oneshot

[child-of-the-nights]

hello! could u maybe write something for elrond where he gets injured saving reader and she shuts off and starts avoiding him because it made her realize she loves him and she panicked? maybe she's a widow like him too? if not thank you anyway <33

I love Elrond so much so of course! Have fun reading!

Warnings: injury, near death experience, battle (so expect killing as well), angst (with happy ending) -> nothing graphic tho

A/N: the reader is an elven woman in this oneshot but let me know if you would like something else ^^

word count: 1676 words

Elrond x Fem! Elf! Reader: Elrond gets injured and Reader avoids him

Although Elrond never enjoyed putting his people's lives in danger, he would never refuse to assist those in need if requested. That is how he ended up in the middle of a bloody battlefield where armor, weapons, and bodies were being flung around like nothing. He was skilled enough in combat to protect himself from the enemy's blades, though. No matter how many orcs tried to attack him, he easily defeated them.

The battle raged on, the sound of blades deafening those involved. Arrows sped through the air and soon struck their victim, whose cries were barely audible. The elves fought with unmatched skill and grace, and Elrond slowly led them to victory. By that time, the orcs were outnumbered, and the elven Lord had some time to look around and aid his kin.

Amidst the chaos, Elrond caught sight of you, a brave and spirited elven woman, fighting alongside your people. You were as competent as anyone on the battlefield, but it so happened that you became trapped, surrounded by enemies, with no way out. Elrond jumped into action and moved swiftly to get to you without even pausing for a second. His blades cut through your foes before they could strike you down. Once they were all dead, he took a glance at you, trying to check if you were hurt but before he could proceed, an awful strike hit Elrond. He stumbled back, clutching his side, his face twisted in pain. The sight of his injury sent a shiver of terror through you.

"Baw (No)!" you yelled as you circled around Elrond to slay the orc. Your opponent died because he couldn't get his sword out of the elf's body in time.

Even though you wished to help Elrond, you were unable to do so since your foes spotted the opportunity and approached him. He fought bravely despite having a serious wound, albeit his posture wasn't as steady as before. You held your ground and defeated as many orcs as you could before the enemy decided to retreat.

When it was safe to do so, Elrond fell to his knees and groaned in pain. You rushed to his side and helped him to find a comfortable position. Shouts could be heard from afar, but you couldn't quite make out what they were saying.

"Everything will be fine." with great effort, Elrond reassured you, his voice strained but filled with determination. "Mae carnen. (You did well)."

You tried saying something, but words simply didn't come out of your mouth. Some fellow elves came to their Lord's aid as you stumbled back to give them space. It only dawned on you just now that if you hadn't found yourself in this situation, Elrond wouldn't have been injured. Everything after the battle happened so fast, the elven Lord got safely brought back to Rivendell, where the healer's immediately began to work, while the rest of the elves slowly traveled back.

It didn't feel real to be traveling back to your home. It was almost as if you were seeing with your eyes but your head was blank. Seeing Elrond on the ground had left your face pale. Everything that had happened felt too familiar. It seemed like the day's happenings were right out of your nightmares—the nightmares about losing your beloved spouse. You started crying as you thought back to that terrible day. After they passed away, Elrond was the one who helped you recover because he knew how painful it was to lose a loved one—possibly the most precious of them all. Elrond was the one who took the time to help you heal by lending you his wisdom.

Your sobbing became more intense with each thought. You had come to a realisation as you reflected on the time you spent together, the comfort his presence provided you, and the coldness the separation brought you. You suddenly realized what you had been experiencing while around him. It was love. You considered yourself dumb for only realizing that at the last second, just as you might lose him. And you were genuinely horrified by that.

Weeks passed as Elrond received treatment for his wounds in the security of Rivendell. When you learned of his recovery, you felt both relief and anxiety at the same time. Overwhelmed by the weight of your emotions, you withdrew, avoiding Elrond's presence, afraid of what your feelings meant and the vulnerability that accompanied it. But, Elrond being Elrond, you knew he had noticed it. Since you two were close, visiting him while he was recovering would have made sense. And yet, since the battle, he had not seen you. You ached to be by his side, to console and comfort him, but you were unable to.

As Elrond slowly regained his strength, he sought out your presence. Every time Lindir came by to let you know that Lord Elrond had asked for your presence in the gardens, you would come up with an excuse not to go. You avoided him at every turn, anxiously waiting for him to pass through the corridor. You could see how his gaze searched for you in the halls, but you were nowhere to be found. Elrond became very concerned and yearned to know why you had been avoiding him. It was unlike you to act like this.

Determined to understand the cause of your withdrawal, he sought you out, finding you in the quiet solace of Rivendell's library. You had been reading a book, trying to take your mind off of the elven Lord. That was until a gentle tap on your shoulder turned your attention away from the book. Your stomach dropped as you realised who had disturbed you. He took a seat beside you, without asking you first.

"What are you reading, exactly?" Elrond asked with curiosity.

Suddenly forgetting what you were reading, you looked down to view the cover. "Oh, I just grabbed something off the shelves." You tried to avoid making eye contact as you shook your head.

Elrond grew silent, noticing how even now, you tried to run away from him. It broke his heart that you grew to resent him so. If he had to be honest, Elrond fell for you a long time ago. He never really showed it but he longed for someone who could understand his pain. And then you appeared at his doorstep, asking for support after the death of your spouse. At first he just looked at you as a friend, but those feelings soon grew. If you hadn't expressed your disinterest in dating, he would've said something sooner. But being the gentleman that he is, he respected your bounderies and tried to move on. The problem was that he couldn't.

"Please, mellon nîn (my friend)," he began softly, his voice carrying a mix of concern and vulnerability, "help me understand. Why do you avoid me so? What has come between our friendship?"

Those words stung. You sighed, unable to give him a straight up answer. But you knew Elrond valued honesty so you gathered all your strenght and looked him in the eyes. "I cannot express it, Elrond, for I fear if I do, history will repeat itself."

Elrond looked deep in thought, carefully deciding his next sentence. "I'm not quite sure I follow." he admitted.

You looked away, trying to hide your pained expression. "The battlefield, brannon nîn (my lord). It was my fault."

"It hardly was." he shook his head, slowly sliding closer to you. When you had not moved away, he reached out to grab your hand.

"You nearly lost your life, Elrond!" you yelled. "If that blade was aimed just a bit higher, you would've dropped dead! And it would've been because of me! Because I was incompetent enough, to let myself get trapped!"

"Please, do not think of yourself this way." his pained voice could be barely heard. Elrond's eyes widened in shock at what you were saying. He in no way had blamed you for his injury. "Any of us could've been in your situation. You fought well, you came to my aid when I needed it. Why do you put yourself down?"

"I just..." you sighed. "I can't lose you too, Elrond."

His grip on your hands became firmer. "Is this the reason for your withdrawal?"

You hesitated for a second, then nodded. Although it was difficult, there was a part of you that wanted him to be aware of your worries. No matter how hard you tried to turn it off, that self-indulgent part of you wanted to be comforted by him. "My feelings, they terrify me. It's as if acknowledging them would make my fears come true. After I lost... them, I didn't want to put myself through the pain of loving someone but on the battlefield I had realised that I had already broken that promise. You matter so much to me that I cannot even express it with words. I have fallen in love with you, Elrond. And it scared me."

Elrond took each of your words in carefully. He pondered on them for some time before giving you a nod. Elrond's gaze softened as his hand reached out to gently cup your face. "I understand your fear. Loss leaves deep scars upon our hearts. But shutting ourselves off from love only denies us the chance to heal. I, too, have felt the sting of loss, the ache of a heart once broken. Yet, here we stand, with an opportunity to experience something quite beautiful together."

His words shocked you. "You feel the same way?"

"Chin gelair chîn orthernir guren (Your radiant eyes conquered my heart)." Elrond smiled at you.

Finally, when he whispered those words, you felt the warmth of his presence spread throughout your body. Elrond welcomed your hug as you threw yourself into his arms. Although your worries have not vanished, it helped a lot to know that someone was by your side.

#elrond x you #elrond x reader #lotr elrond #elrond #elrond x y/n #elrond imagine #elrond peredhel #lord elrond #lotr x you #lotr x reader #the lord of the rings #lord of the rings #lord of the rings x you #lord of the rings x reader #the hobbit x you #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit #lotr elves #lotr imagine #tw injury #tw battle #tw near death #tw blade #tw killing #tw angst

[salty-says]

Omg I’m alive

Here you go @221bloggergirl221

Take Care

Sanji woke up with excruciating pain, everywhere. The sun blared down at him and he grimaced. Rolling onto his side he cracked his eyes open, trying to get his barrings.

He tried to remember the last thing that had happened before he blacked out. He looked up and saw the rest of his crew lying down, passed out. Everyone except— “Zoro.”

Sanji shot up and ignored the pain screaming at him. He scanned the battle field full of rubble and bodies. With no luck finding the ball of moss he started running. He needed to find him, that bastard couldn’t have died.

The pressure in his lungs stung as he ran, but he ignored it. Jumping over fallen rocks. his legs shook. He kept running until he saw Zoro’s peculiar green hair.

He paused and stared at him. His arms were crossed, body standing tall, clothes torn and ripped, blood all around him.

Sanji gasped quietly and approached him. Kuma didn’t seem to be anywhere in sight, “What happened?”

Zoro didn’t move, he just kept standing firm and tall, “Nothing happened.”

Sanji was about to respond with an angry retort but before he could he saw it. The break in Zoro’s demeanor. The slight tremble of his legs.

He quickly ran over to him and caught his bloody body before it hit the ground. Zoro’s face looked pained, even more than after his fight with Mihawk.

“You dumb idiot.” Sanji whispered before scooping him up in his arms bridal style.

He walked over to his other crew mates. They seemed to be coming to. They sat up grimacing in the light just as Sanji did before. All were rubbing their bodies, trying to soothe the aches that were there.

Except for Luffy, he was jumping up and down yelling about how he didn’t have any pain. Sanji’s eyes narrowed as he thought about how much pain Zoro must be in and how their idiot captain is shoving his painlessness in their faces.

Sanji held Zoro closer to his body so he could here the small breaths Zoro was taking. He trekked towards the castle. One of the rooms seemed to still be intact and Sanji thought it would be a good place for Zoro to rest and get treatment. Sunny was too far away and Zoro needed care now.

“Chopper!” Sanji yelled as he passed the little reindeer who was already starting to patch up Usopp.

Chopper looked up and wailed, “Sanji! Is Zoro okay? Is he alive?! What happened!”

“I don’t know, but he is breathing. Please take him inside and treat him.”

Chopper switched to his human form and grabbed Zoro from Sanji, “Right! Can you go to Sunny and get extra supplies for me? I have enough to treat Zoro but not enough for this battlefield.”

Sanji nodded and Chopper ran off inside the building with Zoro in his arms. He sighed and lit a cigarette, the sweet smoke filling his lungs. He went over to his crew first, making sure his ladies were okay. Robin was helping Nami stand up. They seemed to have minor injuries.

“Are you ladies alright? Need anything from Sunny?” Sanji asked them sweetly.

Nami and Robin turned to him, eyes widening at his injured state. “Sanji-kun…you need to see Chopper.”

Sanji smiled, “I appreciate your worry mademoiselle, but I can assure you that Chopper has some great priorities right now. And you two must be treated before me. I am actually on a mission from our dear doctor getting more supplies.”

Nami and Robin turned to each other before looking back towards Sanji, “Maybe some clothes would be nice, cook-san.”

“As you wish, my loves!” Sanji bowed before making his way to the Sunny.

. . .

Everyone was treated and the post battle glory emanated throughout the room. Brook riled up the crowd as he shared Bink’s Sake with everyone.

Sanji smiled and looked back to the meal he was making. Most everything had already gone out to everyone but he had one last one to make. With some seafood Sanji finished the plate and brought it over to the one he made it for.

Zoro was lying on a makeshift bed at the back of the room. He was covered in bandages like a mummy. Sanji placed the plate on the table next to Zoro before kneeling down next to his bed.

“Marimo,” He whispered.

Zoro stirred a bit but didn’t open his eyes.

Sanji looked behind him to make sure no one was watching them. He gently ran a hand through Zoro’s hair, trying to coarse him to wake, “Marimooo.”

Zoro’s face contorted and he cracked his left eye open slightly. He blinked his eyes before looking up at Sanji, “Cook?”

“How are you feeling?” Sanji asked as he pulled up a chair next to him.

Zoro grumbled and tried to sit up, hissing in pain. Sanji grabbed his arm softly and helped him. Zoro looked at Sanji angrily but didn’t pull away.

Now upright against the pillows, Zoro looked down at himself, “Shit.”

“Yeah you got your ass beat, hard.” Sanji smirked.

“Shove it, shit cook! It was so I could save your lousy ass!” Zoro growled at him.

Sanji rolled his eyes, “And look where that got you. Now, shut up and eat the onigiri I made you.”

Zoro looked at the plate Sanji grabbed and sighed. Sanji picked up one of the onigiri’s and brought it to Zoro’s mouth. However, Zoro grimaced and turned away.

“That’s humiliating.” He said.

Sanji’s brow furrowed in anger as he slammed the plate back onto the side table, “You know what you selfish bastard?! You can suffer here by your-fucking-self. I’m trying to help you and all you want to do is continue being a fucking jerk!”

Sanji turned away and was about to break for the other side of the room before something caught his arm.

Weakly he heard, “Wait, please…”

Sanji paused and turned. Zoro’s weakly gripped his sleeve with his face down in defeat.

Zoro looked up to him with pleading eyes, “Please help me.”

Sanji sighed and closed his eyes. He sat back down in the chair and picked up an onigiri once more bringing it to Zoro’s mouth.

Zoro blushed before opening his mouth and eating it, “It’s really good.”

Sanji smiled and kept feeding him, “I’m glad.”

The background noise seemed to drown out to them as they shared this intimate moment. When Zoro finished all the onigiri he yawned.

“Get some rest, mosshead.”

Zoro paused, “…will you…will you stay here with me?”

Sanji’s eyes widened as he let the request sink in. Zoro flushed, “I-I mean—sorry that was a stupid. Never mind me.”

Cracking a smile, Sanji grabbed Zoro’s bandaged hand and held it gingerly in his, “Of course I’ll stay.”

Zoro smiled and squeezed Sanji’s hand weakly. He did his best to create room on the bed. As Sanji saw what he was doing he blushed, “Oh, in there?”

Zoro nodded. Sanji smiled and let go of his his hand to get in next to him. It was cramped but warm. Zoro lay on his back as Sanji lay on his side wrapping his arms and legs around Zoro.

Sanji’s head rested on Zoro’s shoulder. Zoro smiled as he felt Sanji’s blonde hair ticked his chin.

“Get some rest,” Sanji mumbled.

Zoro maneuvered his face into Sanji’s hair and grunted. Sanji smiled and sleep came over him. Soon enough both of their bodies relaxed and they were peacefully asleep.

#one piece #zosan #roronoa zoro #one piece sanji #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x zoro #sanzo #one piece zoro #thriller bark angst #thriller bark zosan #thriller bark #op

[douma-daisy]

How You Caught their Attention {Gyomei/Mitsuri/Sanemi x Reader}

Warning: Sanemi is literally just insane lmao

Gyomei 🪨

You understood his feelings.

The battle was over, Gyomei knew it by the trickle of the demon’s ashes that flew onto and past his face, brought by the gentle breeze. Although no human lives were lost, in fact, there were barely any injuries even, Gyomei felt a great sadness build up in the form of a lump in his throat, and the familiar feeling of tears welling up in his eyes returned once more.

However, before a single tear could fall, a gentle sob caught his attention. It came from beside him.

“Is someone injured?“ he asked, turning to face the direction the crying sound came from.

“N-no,” a sweet voice croaked. “I’m sorry. I’m fine. It’s just… I feel so sad for that demon. I wish they’d never been turned in the first place.” You broke into another sob, burying your face in your hands. Gyomei stepped forward and put a hand on your shoulder.

“I understand your sorrow,” he said. You sniffled and looked up at him, surprised to find tears of his own streaming down his cheeks. Your lip trembled for a few moments before, unable to help yourself, you threw yourself at him with a hug. You heard a few gasps around you, but you didn’t care. And by the feeling of the stone hashira delicately wrapping his arms around you, neither did he. Still, you apologized when you pulled back, wiping your tears on your sleeve.

“I’m so sorry, I—“

“No, please do not apologize. That was quite comforting, actually. Thank you,” he said, then smiled. “I think we should do more missions together. It would be nice to know I have someone to turn to when the battle is over and the grief sets in.”

Mitsuri 💗

You have an adorable laugh.

“And that’s when I realized the demon had already died and I had been searching for it terrified it was gonna jump me for five minutes for nothing,” a fellow demon slayer told you as you ate dinner with the rest of your team. You laughed at her story, nearly choking on the food you had just put in your mouth.

Mitsuri looked up at the sound of your giggling, her face turning red.

That was the cutest laugh I’ve ever heard, she thought. I already want to hear it again!

“Hey everyone! Let’s all share our funniest experiences!” she suggested, internally congratulating herself for thinking up such a brilliant plan. After the first person went and your laugher once again graced her ears, albeit blended with the laughter of everyone else, she squealed. This was going to be a fun night after a successful mission.

Sanemi ✵

You calmed him down.

Sanemi was beyond furious. He couldn’t believe Oyakata-sama could let this obnoxious child run around with a demon. After everything he and everyone else in the Demon Slayer corp had gone through. After they’d watched their friends and family get slaughtered by these horrible creatures, Oyakata still let one of them in. The rage this built up inside him was unbearable. He felt sick to his stomach, restless, and exhausted all at the same time.

Instead of letting himself explode in front of his fellow hashira, Sanemi remained calm for the remainder of the meeting, then swiftly left to find a way to take out his anger.

That’s when he noticed you, sitting alone under a tree, completely covered by the shade. You were carefully sharpening your katana, the gentle breeze keeping your hair from falling into your face. Sanemi didn’t know how long he stood there staring at you, but he shook his head as he snapped back into reality. He realized suddenly that his anger had dissipated. It was strange. Suspicious, actually. You were wearing the corps uniform, but who’s to say you hadn’t stolen it? Or maybe you had betrayed them.

“Hey!” he shouted, marching towards you. You jumped slightly in surprise as looked at him. “What’s your name and rank?”

“(L/n) (y/n),” you answered quickly, immediately recognizing the wind pillar. “I’m rank tsu—.” Sanemi squatted in front of you and grabbed your face, cutting you off as your cheeks were squished between his thumb and pointer finger. His intense, violet eyes studied your face carefully as you sat there. It’s not like you could do anything. He was a hashira! He could easily overpower you if you tried to push him away.

“Your eyes look normal,” he muttered to himself, finally releasing your face. “That’s a good disguise you got there, but I know there’s something off about you. Come on, demon! Show me your true form!”

“Huh?” you squeaked.

“Playing dumb? Let me guess, you want to infiltrate our ranks and kill our master. Well, it ain’t gonna happen!” Sanemi growled. “Don’t worry. I’ll get the truth out of ya.” He unsheathed his katana.

“What are you talking about? I would never harm–”

He squatted down again and pressed the blade against your cheek and you froze. “Let’s see those healing powers in action, shall we?” He created a small slit in your cheek and you grunted in pain, slapping your hand over the cut.

“What the hell?” you said. “Leave me alone!”

“Come on! Don’t hide it! Show me your cheek! You’ve healed already, haven’t you?” he taunted. You lowered your hand, revealing your bloody cheek, still with a fresh cut.

“Oh? Was that not high stakes enough? Well how about—?”

“Shinazugawa! What are you doing?” Sanemi froze at the sound of Mitsuri’s voice. She rushed over and shoved Sanemi off of you, pulling you up and standing between you and him. “Have you lost your mind? What are you doing attacking (y/n)?”

“(Y/n)? You know her?” Sanemi asked.

“Yes, of course I do! She was on my team on my last mission. She practically saved my life!” Mitsuri explained. Sanemi paled.

“He thinks I’m a demon,” you said.

“Not anymore,” Sanemi mumbled, sheathing his katana. He turned to walk away.

“Where do you think your going? I think you owe (y/n) an apology,” Mitsuri insisted.

“It’s okay, Kanroji. He was just being cautious,” you said. “Though I’d prefer if he hadn’t resorted to violence so quickly.” Sanemi scoffed.

“Whatever. I’m sorry,” he said.

The next day a crow showed up with ohagi for you. There was no note, but you happened to know that the wind hashira didn’t know how to write.

#sanemi x reader #mitsuri x reader #gyomei x reader #demon slayer #hashira x reader

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Always my beloved; Thorin Oakenshield x reader

*Author’s note*

For my first ever Thorin Oakenshield story I hope I did you Thorin fans justice with this sweet little oneshot. So @firestrike004​ thank you soo much for your patience and I hope you all enjoy this fic.  

Not really any warnings just injuries, some fluff, some angst (fairly minor but still some people need warnings).

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@queen-paladin​

@gay-and-ready-to-cry​

____________________________________________________________

We knew the risk of going on this quest, but never did I think we’d come across the bane of Thorin’s family, Azog the Defiler.  We had believed he had died back at the battle of Azanulbizar from his wounds but low and behold there he was astride upon his infamous white warg.  We barely made our escape thanks to our burglar as well as the Great Eagles I had read so much about as a young dwarrow-dam.

Now we decided to take some rest to rest and for Thorin to recover.  The wounds from Azog’s warg were probably the worst I had ever seen and I’ve doctored warg bites before.  But thankfully with both mine and Oin’s help, my beloved should be back to his old strength within a few days.

Aye I did say beloved. Thorin and I are currently in the courting stage of our relationship, and have been for these past 5 summers. He had made a vow to me that once he would reclaim Erebor, we would finally be wed and I would rule at his side as Queen Under the Mountain.

Of course at first when Gandalf had persuaded Thorin to go on this quest, he wanted me to have absolutely no part in it.  In fact he had tried to send me off to live with his cousin Dain in the Iron-hills for safe keeping until the Mountain was reclaimed.  And being the stubborn female dwarf I am, I can be just as stubborn of not more than Thorin Oakenshield himself.

After some heated words, and even a fight to decide my fate, Thorin had kept his word that after defeating him in combat I had a right to go alongside the Quest.  In fact I was one of the first after Dwalin and Balin had agreed to follow Thorin.

I had just changed out Thorin’s bandages as well as flushed out any signs of infections before they could spread and cause his healing to delay or worse make him sick. As I returned to put my stuff back into the pack, I caught sight of Bilbo sitting down to some of Bombur’s stew. I walked over to him and asked.

“Mind if I join you?” he turned to me.

“Not at all (Y/n).” Hobbits truly were polite people.  Even back at his home when I was the only one out of the 13 dwarves to not to help myself to his food cabinet, he graciously tried to offer me something before one of the boys took it for themselves.  I took my seat next to him and he asked, “Do you mind if I—”

“Oh not at all Bilbo, please eat. Mahal knows we’ve been practically starving you since this quest began.” When we were in Rivendell and I caught Bilbo eating both dinner and supper within just a few short hours apart he had told me that Hobbits have seven meals every day.  I took it upon myself to first apologize for starving the poor lad and then when breakfast came that day, I had helped the Elves with serving something not only for the Dwarves but for Bilbo as well.

As he went to his stew, he took a few sips before looking around and whispered to me.

“How’s Thorin?” the lad truly has grown fond of my beloved.  Especially after what had happened along the Misty Mountains.

“He’ll live fortunately. Unfortunately for him, he’ll have to be put on bed rest for the next 24-48hours before he can even move. Warg bites are nothing to sniffle or chuckle at. And believe me getting Thorin to stay on bedrest is a challenge in on itself.”

“No doubt I imagine. I’m sure you’ve seen plenty of it being Thorin’s wife.”

“If it hadn’t been for you, I would’ve been called Thorin’s widow.” He stopped his eating and looked at me.  I placed my hand on his shoulder and continued, “What you did last night Bilbo, it’s something that I can never truly repay you for.”

“There-there really is no need to repay me. I just did what anyone of you would’ve done. Though I don’t know why I did without no skill of a blade it was all just—”

“Instinct. I get the feeling. But I am grateful nonetheless my friend.” I patted his shoulder.  “And if you’re up for it later today, Bofur and I can show you a thing or two about fighting. Same with Fili and Kili.” He nodded.

“I do appreciate it (Y/n).” I smiled at him before standing up and went off to join the others for my own meal.

Truthfully I don’t know what I would’ve done had I lost Thorin last night.  He and I have known each other since we were young Dwarves in Erebor, my father being one of the King’s proudest and strongest fighters but was sadly killed when the Dragon took our home.  My mother tried her best but she too succumbed to grief leaving me with no family, till Thorin stepped up.

He helped support me when we worked in the villages of Men and when we were finally able to make a temporary home in the Blue Mountains, that’s when my feelings for him began to deepen.  And eventually he came to accept he felt the same for me and never did I think Thorin would ever choose a wife, he never really showed much interest in wanting to court anyone, not since we lost our home.

I reached up to the left side of my hair, brought some of the hair that rested on my back to the front but something was missing.  No it-it cannot be! I looked down at my hair and brushed through it with my fingers and couldn’t see the courting beads Thorin had braided into my hair.  Not only that but some of the strand felt uneven (particularly where the braid once rested).

My heart raced as I tried to remember where and when the last time I felt the braid was. Obviously it was still intact at Rivendell, the Goblin tunnels I still had it, when Azog attacked us and—oh makk an E ha’ak!  When I fought alongside Dwalin, Fili, Kili and Bilbo to hold off the orcs from Thorin before the eagles came, one of them must’ve cut my braid off without my knowing!

A million thoughts were racing through my head.  First it was to curse the orc that did this and that I vowed to kill them if they ever show themselves again.  But most of my thoughts trailed back to Thorin.  What would he say? How will he react? Will he still want to be my One? Will he be furious that I lost his courting bead?

In our customs, a courting bead is so precious and is never given away lightly (especially if your One is someone like Thorin is).  By gaining the bead you’ve not only come to accept your One’s feelings for you, but also accept a courtship and eventual marriage to bond the two of you into one. Losing it or returning it is like having your heart getting grind up, slammed with a forging hammer until it’s nothing but tiny little pieces and then returning the heart to the one who gave you the courting bead.

And never have I once undid the braid nor removed the bead from my hair ever since Thorin gave it to me.  Everyone knew where it lied and if they saw it gone……what would the other’s think? I was so focused on my thoughts that I barely registered that I had walked into someone. When I looked up I had seen that I had walked into Gandalf.

“Oh Gandalf, forgive me.”

“No worries my dear (Y/n).” he looked me over and continued, “You seem to be worried about something.” I looked around to see if any of the others were nearby.  When I saw that no one was within hearing range, I asked Gandalf to come closer to my height with my two fingers.  He knelt down and I whispered to him.

“I’ve lost Thorin’s courtship braid.” He separated from me for a bit as I further explained, “It must’ve been that orc I faced off against when Azog caught us along the Misty Mountains. Gandalf, what if Thorin takes notice of it? Or someone already has and will tell him?”

“Now, now my dear, let’s not jump to conclusions.”

“But Gandalf you know what courting braids mean in our culture. You know what losing one’s courting bead means? I—I can’t lose Thorin. Not again, especially not after last night. He’s all I have left in this world.” He placed both of his hands on my shoulder.

“Thorin may be stubborn but I know he would never do that to you. You both have been through far too much to let something like this be the final straw to divide you both. Remember it’s not just him that’s helped you, you have helped him as well.”

He wasn’t lying. After his grandfather’s death and his father going missing, Thorin was practically lost in how to help our people. Whilst I too, grieved over my father I also had to support Thorin for he was hurting just as much as I was.  We depend on each other and support one another, the other’s beacon of light in the dark mines.

“But how do I tell him Gandalf?” I asked uncertainly.

“You’ll know just what to say my dear girl.” I took a deep breath then exhaled.

“Okay Gandalf, I trust you.”

“And you’ve learned to never doubt it.” He gave me a soft wink before going on his way.  I took a deep breath before heading back to rejoin the others.

The day was spent helping Bilbo train with his sword, scouting out for Azog or his orc pack, and helping Oin with Thorin’s wounds.  Which was what was happening right now, I held onto Thorin’s hand as Oin was once again flushing out the slightly infected bites and stitching them back up. Thorin was tense throughout the whole process.

He never did like to show pain whenever he had to get patched up.  Said he was afraid that others would view him as weak.

“Alright Thorin, just continue to not move about so much and those wounds will heal up quickly.”

“Thank you Oin. I know I’m skilled as a healer but I am nowhere near your degree of knowledge.” I told him.

“Do not doubt your own skills milady.” He told me.  “We’ll be lucky to have you as our Queen once we reclaim the throne. The first Dwarf Queen to be skilled in the knowledge of healing that could be rivaled by the Elves.” Him saying that suddenly gave me an uneasy feeling in my stomach.  As much as I do trust Gandalf in his words from earlier, there’s still a lingering shadow of fear that’s clung itself onto my like a thorn that won’t come out.  He soon left Thorin and I alone and I heard my One say.

“He’s right you know.” I turned to him.  “Never before as a Dwarf woman been so knowledgeable about herbs, healing methods and skills as you have my beloved. Erebor will be lucky to have you as it’s Queen.” He cupped the side of my face, “My only regret is that it will take us longer to get there.”

“Your health is what we should be focused on right now. I would rather Erebor have a King in good health rather than poor or worse dead.” I brushed the long strands of hair from his face before I began braiding it.

“Every hour lost hasten Durin’s day.” I rolled my eyes.

“Thorin. Durin’s day is not going anywhere. It lies on the same day as it always does. Not a week before not a week after. As I said, I would rather have you in good health to rule at my side, than you pushing yourself only to make your health worsen. Even if I have to bind you to this tree I will.”

“Reminds me of the time when you did just that to get me to have me teach you how to fight. Is that how you intend on delivering punishments? Bound the prisoners to trees with your tight knots?”

“Only to those truly stubborn enough not to follow either mine or Doctor Oin’s orders.” We both laughed softly before I gave him a soft kiss.  I felt as his hand went from cupping the side of my face to going around the back of my head, right to where I knew he’d always like to stroke his courting braid.

I separated our kiss and quickly grabbed his wrist and pulled it away from my head.  Immediately I could see the thoughts spinning in his head like a spider’s web.

“What is it (Y/n)?” he asked me.

“Nothing.” I quickly said.

“It’s not nothing. Never before have you stopped me from touching your hair.”

“I—I haven’t had the chance to brush my hair yet.” Even to me that was a pathetic excuse.  Thorin’s brow rose skeptically then he asked me.

“What’s really going on?” I sighed deeply and turned my head away from him.

“I cannot say.”

“Why not?”

“I just can’t.”

“(Y/n), amrâlimê.” He lifted my chin up to look into his deep blue eyes.  “What was it you once said to me when we first began courting?”

“That there should be no secrets between us.” I answered.

“So why are you starting now?” I sighed heavily, already feeling the wetness of tears forming under my eyes.

“I’m afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

“That I’ll lose you.”

“(Y/n). These wounds of mine aren’t—”

“It’s not the wounds or in battle that I fear amrâlimê, it’s—” I took another deep breath before I took the section of my hair where he had given his courting bead and showed him how it was now gone.  As I expected his eyes widened in shock as he reached out for the cut strands of my uneven hair and brushed through them.  Almost hoping the bead would reappear along with the braid but it was gone.

“How long has it been missing?” he asked.  His voice stern as I knew he was trying to suppress his anger.

“I only noticed it this morning. My best guess is that it was the orc I was fighting with along the mountainside when Azog ambushed us. I’m sorry Thorin, this is my fault for allowing that foul creature to even graze my hair. I should’ve been more careful I should’ve been more aware of what I was carrying upon my head. I was careless, foolish and—” I was stopped by the feeling of his arms wrapped around me tightly.

“But you are not hurt, yes?”

“No.”

“Then that is enough for me.” I separated our embrace and looked at him in shock, his eyes that were once filled with shock and anger now appeared soft and gentle.

“I don’t understand. Thorin, my courtship braid to you has been severed. Your courting bead lost forever.”

“Mere objects. A new braid can be made, a new bead can be strung into your locks. But there is only one you,” he cupped my face into his hands, his thumbs gingerly stroking the apple of my cheeks just above the strands of my own beard.  “And I could not bear the thought of losing you.”

“You—you still wish to court me?”

“You are my One, (Y/n). Who else would I want as my Queen?”

“I just…..I know how special our courting traditions and symbols are. I was worried if you took notice of your bead and braid missing that you—you wouldn’t want to be with me anymore.”

“Amrâlimê,” our noses softly grazed one another’s as we stared deeply into each other’s eyes, “I would rather share one lifetime with you, than face all the ages of this world alone. You are my One, and nothing will ever change that. As I said, I can give you a new braid, I’ll find you a new bead. A more finer bead once we reach the mountain and reclaim our home. But there is only one of you. And I would be a fool to let someone like you go.”

He then pressed his forehead to mine and I shut my eyes as I felt his love and strength enter me as our forehead remained together.

“I am sorry I doubted your love Thorin.” I said after awhile of silence between us.

“There is no need for apologizes. You are always be my beloved, no matter what the world gives us…..”

“We’ll always be One.” I finished our vows that we made for one another when we first began our courtship together.  He soon moved his lips over mine and once again we kissed.  

His hand going back towards the area where my braid once stood, and I felt his fingers softly brush through those strands of hair and I felt myself finally relax under his touch.

#thorin oakenshield imagine #thorin oakenshield #thorin oakenshield x reader #thorin oakenshield imagines #the hobbit #the hobbit imagine #the hobbit fanfic #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit imagines #thorin oakenshield fanfic #thorin oakenshield fanfiction #the hobbit fandom #bilbo baggins #gandalf the grey #thorin oakenshield blurb #thorin and company #tolkien #tolkien fandom #tolkien fanfic #tolkien fanfiction #tolkien imagine #tolkien imagines

[morallyinept]

A full character analysis on MARCUS MORENO from the film WE CAN BE HEROES.

I've created this as a point of reference when writing for Pedro's characters, and I hope you find it useful. Even if you just want to learn more about the character. 🖤

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO'S CHARACTERS ANALYSED

FULL CHARACTER STUDY:

Basic Details:

Full Name: Marcus Moreno

Nickname(s): None noted

Appears in: We Can Be Heroes, 2020 (First heard on Missy's bracelet at approx. 03:21, first appearance seen on screen at approx. 03:23)

Age (if known): Unknown/not confirmed - assumned late 30's/early 40's

Nationality: American, not confirmed exactly from where, however the film was largely filmed in and around Austin, Texas, featuring a lot of familiar buildings and architecture from real life Austin, as favoured by the director.

Sexuality: Straight

Family: Daughter, Missy Moreno. Mother, Anita Moreno. Deceased wife, unnamed.

Spouse/Partner: Marcus is a widower. His wife died, presumably, when Missy was younger. Her name isn't revealed in the film, or how she passed away exactly.

Relationship Status: Single/widower - Marcus currently still wears his wedding band

Current Living Status: Alive

Languages Spoken: English/Spanish

Education: Not confirmed, however it would be prudent to assume Marcus has obtained high school/college education at least. Marcus is also leader of the Heroics, so assumed further education in training.

Occupation:

Job Role/Title: Single father/leader of the Heroics. His card that he swipes to get onto the transit to take him down into Heroic's HQ reads Special Agent.

Special Skill(s): Master swordsman with dual katanas, magnetic powers that enable him to keep a constant grip of his katanas. Marcus is able to fly with the aid of a device attached to his utility belt. Marcus also leaps really high into the pit of aliens. Marcus is also skilled in martial arts.

Notable Colleague(s): Miracle Guy, Shark Boy, Lava Girl, Anita Moreno

Marcus's ID swipe card briefly seen:

Distinguishing Features:

Tattoo(s): None

Piercings: None

Scar(s): None visible

Other Markings: Freckles on neck

Eye Colour: Brown

Prominent Feature(s): Moustache, wears glasses

Injuries: Marcus falls and crashes, lower back first, into an upturned car when his flying device is broken by the aliens, but he quickly regains composure and get's back up

Hair Colour: Brown

Personality:

Traits: loyal, brave, strong

Marcus' mother and Missy's grandmother, Anita Moreno, trains the Heroics. Her nickname is abuelita, which is Spanish for grandma. She has a secret training ground hidden in her garden and is presumed to have trained her son, Marcus, too.

Marcus is a widower, his wife died when Missy was much smaller, but it is not known the exact cause of her death. After her passing, Marcus made a promise to Missy not to do frontline battle alongside The Heroics anymore, and to remain working at Heroics HQ at his desk instead. He feels conflicted having to break his promise to Missy when the aliens invade and he has to suit up.

Marcus' wife wasn't a superhero with powers, she was human, however Anita tells Missy that she was the real strength behind Marcus, enabling him to be a great leader.

Although Marcus knows he is no match on his own, as the only Heroic left, against all the alien entities, he still tries as he tells Missy "a good leader leads by example."

Both Marcus and Missy's communication devices are engraved with MM which is their mutual initials.

Marcus' garden appears to have a swimming pool and what looks like a hammock. The kitchen is large with two TV's evidenced. His kitchen and garden have a lot of Spanish influences in the decor.

Fashion/Outfits:

Outfit 1 - (Opening scene in kitchen) Green round neck t-shirt, grey jeans, black rimmed spectacles, communication watch on left wrist

Outfit 2 - (Dropping off Missy scene/Heroics HQ scene) Light blue long sleeved shirt, dark blue silk tie, navy blue slacks, black belt, black shoes, black rimmed spectacles. Black leather jacket worn later at HQ

Outfit 3 - (Facing off against the aliens scene & remaining scenes) Black round neck t-shirt, black cargo pants, black steel toe-capped boots, black tac vest, black fingerless gloves, black elbow protectors, black belt with Heroics logo metal belt buckle

Accessories: Black rimmed spectacles, communication wrist watch device on left wrist engraved with MM his initials, wedding band on wedding ring finger, looks to be possibly platinum rather than gold, Marcus is able to fly with a device that seems attached to his utility belt.

Close up details of Marcus' costume:

Weapons Used:

Weapon(s): (Exact weapons pictured below)

Marcus has two, black handled and leather wrapped katanas (Japanese style fighting swords) which are mounted on a plaque at his desk in Heroics HQ. He can seemingly "call" them to him by opening his hand and they fly into his grip. It is debated whether he has a magnetic force that attracts them to his hands, or if he is psychically able to "call" them to him. However as it is never confirmed in the film, most assume the former.

He is a master swordsman and able to wield the katanas confidently and effectively.

Marcus is trained and skilled in martial arts and is in peak human condition to fight.

Modes of Transport:

Vehicle(s):

Marcus drives a dark silver/grey Toyota, which looks to be a Camry model. His car appears modified inside to tune into Heroics HQ via the dash computer.

Marcus flies using a flight device attached to his belt.

Dialogue:

🗨 See Marcus' full dialogue from the film, including deleted scenes.

Further Character Links (if any):

Marcus Moreno Fandom Wiki Page, Behind The Scenes: We Can Be Heroes, Pedro & Christian Slater interviewed by Guppy

Samples of Marcus' Wardrobe - Wrist watch info obtained via Styleofpascal IG

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO'S CHARACTERS ANALYSED

#marcus moreno #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #marcus moreno we can be heroes #we can be heroes #PPCU #pedro pascal character database #pedro pascal character study #pedro pascal character analysis #marcus moreno character analysis

[bidisastersanji]

i had thoughts of a canon-adjacent Zoro (nonbeliever ambitious swordsman) and Death-God!Sanji who keep meeting because of how close to dying Zoro always gets during his fights and oops now it's a messy drabble written in between breaks at work and here ya go.

-

In all his years as the god of Death, Sanji has never seen such a stubborn, strong willed human- he’s honestly half amused every time he's brought to a wounded, bleeding Zoro. He doesn't expect him to survive that giant slash attack from the warlord, nor the myriad of injuries he collects after that- and if he feels a bit of pride every time he escapes him Death, well, no one will know.

It takes him a while to realise that, in those fleeting moments, when he's loitering and waiting around as Zoro approaches the point of no return, Zoro can see him as well. Sanji's a bit mortified at first. All this time, he's just been voicing his thoughts out loud like he always does, who knows what the reckless man overheard! It's pure force of habit, since it’s not like there’s ever someone to hear to him- his family chose this domain for him on purpose after all; they took all the great, bright, good, worshiped domains of life, war, medicine...and left him this one to punish him, break him with eons of witnessing and bearing human grief in solitude.

It's barely morning and Zoro is dripping with blood, resolutely standing against all odds in a beautiful display of absolute devotion and conviction, and Sanji feels like maybe today will be the day he takes him- that this is the end for the stubborn swordsman. He comes closer than he ever has to the man, walks right up to him, readying himself for the weight of another soul's voyage, when Zoro's lidded eyes snap up and meet his own. His fiery gaze doesn’t go straight through him, but actually settles on him. Sees him.

It's unnerving. Sanji shivers at this feeling of being perceived.

Humans usually only see him once they fully passed on, when he’s guiding them, cold hands gripping onto him, begging, crying, frightened or even sometimes full of wrath and fighting to stay by their loved ones.

“It’s you again.” His voice is weak, raspy.

Sanji doesn’t answer.

“Why're you always here for my big battles?” A pause. “You like me or somethin'?”

Confusion. Shock. Embarrassment. “You think I stalk you and show up for you battles!?”

“Sure seems like it.”

Sanji scoffs.

He can’t believe this! He wants to chew the bastard out- who the hell does he think he is? but he bites down on his words, certain that these are the man's final moments. There's no way anyone could survive such wounds- it's a miracle he's even conscious or standing.

He doesn’t want to add insult to injury.

“I’m the god of Death, you idiot.”

Oops.

“I don’t believe in gods.”

The absurdity of that statement when literally in conversation with one doesn’t escape Sanji, but he's not really there to argue.

The green-haired man continues. “So, what, you’re into me or something? Just ask me out like a normal person.”

This cocky asshole...Sanji's heated reply is cut off by Zoro’s nakama arriving on the scene in a panic. Sanji trails after them, hovering, ready for the now unconscious body's heart to stop beating at any moment- but the moment doesn't come.

Under the attention of their talented doctor, Zoro escapes him once again.

Sanji's definitely not relieved.

It's out of curiosity that he stays around a little longer. He returns from time to time to check in on the mysterious man and his recovery, still a bit unbelieving that he managed to survive such grievous, traumatic injuries and intense blood loss. By all means he should've died the instant he made contact with the red, concentrated bubble of pain and stress that Kuma expelled from his captain's body.

His friends weep and berate him when he wakes. The ginger woman who found him screams at him to “stop flirting with death” and Sanji chuckles- she doesn’t know how technically accurate that statement is.

Later, Sanji guiltily looks forward to feeling that tug from Zoro once more, that pull on his power he feels when someone is nearing his domain. He's admittedly curious to learn more about him, this idiot swordsman who can see him, hear him, and yet isn’t at all scared of him. It's so rare for humans to accept him without a hint of fear.

He doesn’t let himself dwell on that tinge of nervousness at the back of his mind- what if the next time is the time he steals him away- from his friends, his dream, his captain? What if this time he doesn’t get back up?

But he does.

And when he lingers in the cold, empty room of Kuragaina castle where the bandaged swordsman is laid to rest, content to stare at his mossy head of hair, Sanji notices something weird. From his bedside seat, he can feel the ghost of body warmth.

He tentatively leans closer, his fingers reach out, expecting to go right through Zoro's arm. They recoil, as if burned by fire, when instead they meet soft flesh.

Huh.

Zoro's eyes blearily crack open, immediately finding his hovering form.

"You're... back."

And Sanji knows something changed, that day, on Thriller Bark. He's been on this earth for a long, long time, and he knows Zoro should be dead. Unequivocally so. And yet he isn't. Whether by the sheer strength of his willpower or his fervent defiance of the gods and the laws of this universe, Zoro is still...present. Alive enough to have warm, red blood flowing through his veins and air filling his lungs. Dead enough to perceive him, touch him, feel him.

__

War brews and Sanji has a lot of work on his hands. After the carnage, he wearily returns to Kuragaina, and Zoro, sullen, heavy with guilt, asks him if it's true. Asks him if the eye of this particular storm, the man known as Ace, is truly dead.

Death has long worn away at Sanji, a constant wave beating at the his endless empathy his father called a weakness, wearing him down with each soul he takes from this world. But he's never become numb to it. He openly, lovingly feels the sorrow with every loss, with each reaping, with every last breath rasped from trembling lips. He embraces it, cherishes it for all of its bittersweet taste.

So he tells Zoro of Marineford. Of the epic battle that occurred there between Whitebeard and the marines. With each somber word he feels just a little lighter- an unfamiliar, happy feeling blooming in his chest at getting to talk to someone after what feels like a forever of solitude.

Time passes, and Sanji visits him more and more, grateful for the rare company. It'd been so long since he last was able to have a decent conversation with someone. Joke around. Banter. Flirt? They grow closer, never really voicing the...whatever it is that passes between them. Zoro eventually returns to his crew, and Sanji avoids approaching him unless he's alone. Wouldn't want people to think he's seeing things.

--

It becomes a dance. A well oiled machine. Zoro cutting down the enemies before him, Sanji right behind him and guiding his fallen foes into the afterlife. Cut after cut, his blades sing in the air, accompanied by the groans and cries of the people Sanji welcomes into his waiting arms.

After a big battle Zoro is laying in the rubble, chest heaving from the effort. Sanji sits with him, solemn. Accepting. Enjoying his company, the only company he can keep.

Zoro still hasn't admitted that gods are real, even when he sees Sanji trail after the path his bloodied swords carve out, hard at work. Even when he sees Sanji's dark, draped silhouette raise into the skies, untethered - that’s just skywalk, he says.

--

Sanji grows fearful. Shaken by the feelings, the attachment he feels for the swordsman, like a tether to this world. It makes him feel more alive than he ever has, yes. But nothing good can ever come of it, and he knows the universe isn't kind enough to give him such happiness without the promise of a subsequent fall, a return to reality soured and made worse by what came before it.

It's a dark, rainy day when Zoro corners him on the Sunny. Sanji hasn't visited him in a couple of days- not much death without opponents around.

They're at the back of the ship, obscured by the mikan trees, and Zoro's hands are bracing him against the wall, locking him in. Sanji knows he could go through the wall, but Zoro's eye has him pinned, frozen where he stands. His arms lay lifelessly by his sides.

The swordsman leans in, cups his chin, and Sanji doesn't think- his eyes flutter shut, he's open and wanting as warm, chapped lips press delicately against his. They don't need words. They know. Can feel it with every tender touch as their bodies work together to deepen the kiss. Sanji loops an arm around Zoro's neck, hand digging into his hair, while the other bunches up the fabric of his kimono to bring him ever closer. He's pressed so tightly against him that he can almost pretend the beating feeling near his chest is his own heart, can almost feel the rushing sound in his ears, the warmth seeping into his skin, up his chest, his neck, cheeks, ears.

Zoro breaks apart for air, and Sanji hears himself mirroring his pants, so enamoured with the swordsman he feels like his breath was stolen away.

"Curls." Zoro's looking at him odd, nearly awestruck, eyes flitting across his face, his body, his hands reach out to take his hands in his, lightly massaging his flesh.

A stern feminine voice rings behind them, snapping their heads to attention.

"Zoro, who the hell is this man you're kissing behind my mikan trees?!"

#zosan #zoro x sanji #i just wanted to write a small text post #and then #aND THEN this #it's not very good i'm sorry #but i kind of really like this concept #of death god sanji #and constantly near death experience Zoro #if i had more time i would love to see them fall in love slowly #maybe explore Zoro's complicated feelings if he lets himself be in dangerous situations just to see the ethereal man in black robes #sanji defnitely haunts his dreams #black leg sanji #roronoa zoro #zosan fic idea #zosan drabble #zosan fic #obviously at the end what happens is that just like how Zoro defies the laws of existence #Sanji is tethered back and kind of alive in a way again #or you can interpret it how you like #i like to think that then they die together one day and get to be death gods together maybe #and because Zoro and Sanji got to be known in the human realm #people start worshiping them properly #god of death Sanji

[the-owl-tree]

thinking more about duels in warriors...

Leader Duels

New leaders, fresh off getting their nine lives, are usually the ones to call for duels early on. This is both out of pride and building a rapport with their Clan, a lot of precarious leaders used the dueling system to earn respect.

Older leaders in this regard are, obviously, less likely to call for duels. However, it's been noted that those who are being questioned by their Clan will act more rashly in challenging others to attempt to bolster their public images.

Dueling on a last life is extremely rare but not unheard of. Both challengers actually dislike it quite a bit, the one who slays a leader will bear that smear on their leadership record for moons to come.

Duels are usually done three days after the challenge is issued. This is meant to be an ode to the original great battle of the forest: the day before the battle, the day of the battle, and the first day of the clans. Leaders usually prepare by resting, training, and keeping themselves fit for the fight! Some leaders, those more devout, will actually spend their time fasting and meditating.

a leader who tries to back out is faced with great shame and can easily lose the support of their entire clan. A leader who flees is expected to never come back.

Warrior Duels

considered to be on a much smaller scale considerably compared to leader duels but are still taken pretty seriously.

Duels between Clanmates are the most common, they're mostly practiced by ShadowClan and ThunderClan.

They can range from a dispute over something petty like prey opinions (which generally earn eye rolls from their Clanmates) or challenging cats in power for their position.

Deputy is the most commonly disputed position however there have been some cases where Leaders and even Medics have been challenged by other cats.

Between Clan duels do happen and only require the leader to be notified. These battles usually happen on borders, or, if they don't share a border, on neutral grounds.

It's usually just a dominance scuffle, the other cat simply must be unable to fight anymore. No killing, just plain simply brutal fighting.

Yes, cats have died of their injuries later on. No, it does sway the Clans from banning this practice.

Eye-for-an-Eye Duels (courtesy of @doritopaw101)

These battles are to the death. They're extremely rare and extremely brutal.

These are most often cross-Clan duels, very few cats would challenge their own Clanmates to one of these. Not to say it hasn't happened.

They require the leader's explicit permission. It is seldom given but there are many cases where the leader can agree that the bad blood runs too thick and only claws will settle the dispute.

Victors of eye-for-an-eye duels often face social stigma and often receive harassment from the families.

Family members, as a result, must wait three moons to challenge the victors if they'd like. However, due to their reasons being out of revenge, many are denied permission from their leaders.

(Taking again from @doritopaw101 who had some really good ideas) Mistystar, as a warrior, was responsible for taking one of Blackstar's lives. Leopardstar barely had a leg to stand on to deny her the right to battle and Blackstar, as a new leader with a stained past, could not deny the right to a duel from one of his victim's family members. I imagine the life she took was the one Stonefur gave to him.

#warrior cats #deer rambles #deer's worldbuilding #aanndd back to having fun hc time on my blog :3c

[swmmi-kti]

Run (pt 2)

Pairing: Kyojuro x Fem Slayer Reader

Part one: Here part three: here

CW: Mentions of injury and losing a limb. (not too graphic)

Kyojuro knew what he had gotten himself into. It came with the job it was his duty. And if it required him to die at the expense of many many lives. He saw no problem with it. 

Here he had been, astoundedly saving many lives at the defeat of Lower moon One now a little bit more exhausted standing in front of Upper moon Three and a very weakened Tanjiro. He was exhausted; he knew this could end in either two ways. 

The preferable one where he defeats Upper moon Three. 

Or he dies trying. 

He didn’t know how it got this way. One moment Tanjiro and himself were sharing a moment after defeating a demon the next suddenly this demon came running out in full force as if it was ecstatic to steal an easy kill. 

Or as if it was being chased. 

He could survive with a broken rib, survive with just one eye. And truly it was a battle that filled him with an acceleration he only experienced when he had defeated lower moon two a few years ago. 

If this demon had been human, He would shower him with astounding compliments for keeping up with him. Had he been human. He would serve as a great sparring partner. 

Had he not been a demon he would equally quip back at him. 

Not for many worlds would he trade his humanity to become a demon. Let alone to always fight with him. He had A brother to go back to, one of which he adored with all his very being. He had his colleagues to also return to. To cheer with and to laugh with. 

He had a father to return to as well. Whether he loved him or not he had a dad to always come too. 

He had you to talk to if you guys ever so caught up again. If he won today perhaps he could ask you finally to allow him to court you properly. 

He had to fight for everyone. Fight for the possibility of ridding the world of one less demon. Fight for a future where you and him could be happy and in love like how his parents were. He had to fight for the possibility of it all

But that isnt how it usually works. Preparing himself for impact, he knew he could not dodge this. This was not something to be able to do. 

But as quickly as he analyzed the situation the loud roaring sound of thunder could be heard before he got pushed back making him stumble as he looked onto the situation. 

There you were. Your heaving figure holding tightly to your blade as you panted heavily. A murderous glare in your face, and then Akaza’s eyes widening. 

“Don’t Run Away you coward! You are my demon to kill!” You spoke. 

Your stance lowering a bit Your muscles tightening and your grip never faltering. Clearly in your hunt for akaza you had gotten hurt. He could see as much. 

“Kyojuro Run!” You spoke, launching another attack as he watched Akaza Dodge. 

“But what abo-” 

“Run! You Stupid Man!”  You couldn’t care to word yourself nicely. You had Tried  and succeeded landing some blows on the Upper Rank and yet he never stuck back. 

All your wounds had been done second hand. But he never once laid a hand on you. You had thought that you lost him, but just as you had gotten through the trees. You noticed how If you didn’t act soon. This demon’s hands would land straight through an already beaten Kyojuro. 

Not much ran through your mind. Really you decided to join the corps because a demon had attacked the most precious thing you had. Your Fiance.You swore then you could never let someone, anyone at all lose a loved one like you did. 

Your entire future had changed because of that. And in a regretful way you were thankful. Because then you would have not fallen in love all over again. That pin that your fiance had meticulously looked for to give you was now in the hands of someone you could love And you were not going to lose. 

You weren’t going to lose twice!

However you wished that This demon would fight back! No matter how you kept striking him he always seemed reluctant to touch you. 

You had thought Kyojuro had heard your warning but to your dismay he didn’t. You could tell by the way the hit wasn’t even close to you. A little too Night. A lot of force and for a demon that had not hit you once you knew it was meant for Kyojuro. 

Without Much thought, Without so much as a blink you. Changed your stance. Somehow jumping right as the strike landed and you could feel This arm pierce your Shoulder. 

“Run! Please Kyojuro!” You begged. How many more minutes till sunrise. You didn’t know. But you sure weren’t going to lose. Not now. 

However, at the sudden realization that he had hit you instead of his intended target. He quickly removed his arm. Akaza couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t fathom what had just happened. 

Without so much as a glance and without really thinking his options over. He fled. 

You heaved. You coughed, spat out blood and your arm now fell limp. No longer being able to feel it. You could hear the sloshing sound of blood. But you didn't even care. 

“Get back her-” before you could finish you felt your waist be held back by two powerful arms. You could never forget how Kyojuro’s hand always looked so smooth and yet so rough

“That’s enough Y/n! Sunrise is here” He pleaded with you. You never were able to fathom that Kyojuro could sound so small and ready to cry. 

You looked to the remaining people. Are those the kids that he had spoken so fondly over the last time you two spoke? 

Truthfully you couldnt really tell. You just heard the delicate voice of the boy with the hanafuda earrings asking you. But what was he asking you? Why are you suddenly so hot. 

Why on earth are you on the floor. 

Kyojuro couldn’t believe this. He kept begging you. Pleading asking you to please manage your breathing as to give the kakushi a fighting chance to get you to his friend. 

He had held your hand stroking it praying that you could hear him. But all he felt from you was how hot you were. How exhausted your breath was. 

He tried to ignore the sound of your arm falling off. Tried to ignore everything but you.

Had this been a different circumstance he would have been infatuated by you as he always was. Your figure sat on the floor. A gentle cooling breeze blowing around you. How perfect you looked. 

But this was reality. When the Kakushi got there and had finished patching you up as best as they could have. He Didn’t even wave the kids goodbye. He was sure they would understand. Your body is now in his arms. 

Your blood stained his uniform but he didn't care. All he cared about was getting you to Shinobu. He wished that Tengen had gone in his stead. He would cut off minutes, minutes that he needed to keep you alive. 

“Please. Please Just use total concentration. Please Y/n, I would give you anything in the world if you can hold on just a little longer” 

Unbeknownst to him. You could hear him well. 

#kimetsu no yaiba #kny #kny kyojuro #kny x reader #x reader #kyojuro rengoku x reader #demon slayer kyojuro #rengoku kyojuro #kyojuro x reader #rengoku kyojuro x reader #female reader

[notwarriorswiki]

I liked your perspective on Leafpool's life. I was wondering in your rewrite, are Squirrelflight and Leapool's lives different before they die/become deputy?

Updating designs for them while I'm at it. I like my short and stubby Squirrel and long and lanky Leaf.

Their lives are mostly the same, though there are a few notable changes.

Leafpool, encouraged by StarClan and also fearing for her future, lies to Squirrelflight and claims StarClan has told her she is barren and will never be able to conceive. It's ultimately the thing that really breaks Squirrelflight and has her accept the kits, believing it to be a gift from StarClan so her and Brambleclaw can have a family AND help save her sister. This lie comes back to haunt Leafpool.

Squirrelflight learns she is actually pregnant during the Po12 arc, a major shock for her as, well, she thought she couldn't conceive. Brambleclaw is ecstatic to have another litter and Lionblaze, Hollyleaf, and Jayfeather are excited to be older siblings.

Squirrelflight confronts Leafpool about her pregnancy in private, Leafpool admitting she lied about Squirrelflight's fertility so she'd take the kits. They fight and argue, Leafpool losing yet another person she loves and is close with because of what StarClan told her to do.

Secretly Hollyleaf and Jayfeather overhear their conversation, learning the secret of their parentage. They tell Lionblaze, who is incredibly angry but is forced to bottle it up by Jayfeather as to not throw anything off with the prophecy.

Bottling it up isn't good though. Jay, Lion, and Holly are all bitter and awkward around Leafpool, which hurts Leaf more.

Lionblaze, in his anger, spills the secret of their parentage at the gathering and absolutely blows up things. Brambleclaw breaks up with Squirrelflight. Squirrelflight, despite her anger still with her sister, stands at her side and reaffirms it. This is where they reconcile, and they continue to be close as ever.

Squirrelflight gives birth before The Great Battle. Despite no longer being a medicine cat, Leafpool demands to help her sister in her birth, and Jayfeather doesn't have the strength to turn her away when he feels her raw emotions practically smothering him. This time Leafpool is helping Squirrelflight kit, the opposite of that fateful snowy day.

Brambleclaw is killed by Hawkfrost in the battle.

Leafpool dies in The Great Battle due to her injuries, collapsing after finally guiding her sister and her young kits to safety away from the battle. Leafpool's life was a tragedy. However, in her dying breath, she helps protect the cat and her kits who protected her and her kits. Squirrelflight is distraught and grieves her sister.

Squirrelflight is made deputy post Great Battle by the newly named Hollystar, who wishes to have the cat she loved and admired so much at her side. Mother/Daughter deputy/leader combo!

Small side effect of Squirrelflight's promotion to deputy is that because she lost her mate, is now in a leader position at a stressful time, and is trying to be there for Jay, Lion, and Holly still - all while juggling her own grief of losing both her sister and mate so suddenly, she really struggles sitting still in the nursery and just being with Alderkit and Sparkkit as it makes her antsy. Spark holds this against her later.

So yeah not much completely different. Leafpool dies much earlier, and Squirrelflight continues to live while navigating life without the two cats she relied upon most. It hurts, but she has her kits and the rest of her clan, who she loves dearly.

Leafpool's main difference is never actually getting her medicine cat title back before getting killed. Technically her title is Warrior when she dies just to add salt to the wound. She doesn't have a mate waiting for her in StarClan ever. Leafpool's true happiness lies with her sister, kits, and family, not in romance, nor the stars she dedicated her life to. It was always with the people who were right next to her since the beginning. Sure she resides in StarClan, but Leafpool is a rather active wanderer who still shares much disdain for the cats who play God in StarClan, knowing truly that they are all one in the same, no cat greater than the other, not even in The Dark Forest.

#warrior cats #po12 #au #squirrelflight #leafpool #art