#besides that damn expression arc

[philtatosbuck]

i've seen it a lot so this is just my two cents but i don't think that?? new orleans witches are powerless outside of new orleans that's always been an odd thing people claimed to me

they can do magic outside of new orleans they just practice ancestral magic in the city because that's where their ancestors were consecrated and it makes them stronger??? they don't just. lose the ability to practice magic (obviously, considering the ancestral well was destroyed in season three and vincent was still able to do magic in season four. followed up by them restoring it in season 4 but making davina the keeper of it all and, in season 5, releasing all the ancestors from the ancestral well while still being able to practice magic afterwards). not to mention papa tunde said he practices ancestral magic but wasn't from new orleans so obviously there are other ancestor aligned covens in the world but he, in new orleans, could use their magic anyway?? keep in mind that the ancestors that we've seen are specifically on a plane separate from the other side & the plane everyone's living in and the harvest is the thing that restores power to them for witches to use

sooo. YEAH. to me it would seem like they're still fully capable of doing magic, it just wouldn't be drawn from the ancestors (which only boosts their strength to begin with). it'd be their own power. which, for witches who leave their covens anyway (such as davina, who was not only able to do magic after leaving the coven BUT ALSO after being shunned by new orleans ancestors & witches alike), are already doing that??

[superluver]

Together again | Gojo Satoru

wc: 1282

warnings: MAJOR SPOILER WARNING, SPOILERS FOR SHIBUYA INCIDENT ARC AND MANGA, Chapter 236, mentions of pregnancy(literally one word), FEM!Reader, Wife reader — NOT PROOFREAD

(I didnt put an exact warning because it would literallt give away what happened)

Pairing: Husband!GojoxWife!Reader

desc: You meet with Gojo after two long months

He doesn't remember much, just a blink and he was back as his high school self. A female, hand on her hip, a curious expression written all over her face. Staring at him, she tilted her head. “Satoru? What are you doing here?”

Satoru Gojo wants to laugh, like this was all some cruel joke.

Here you were, in front of him after not having seen your face(though younger) in almost 2 months since the incident in Shibuya— where you died.

He partially blamed himself. He watched you during your last moments, and selfishly, he’s grateful he didn’t actually see your death. His wife, his one and only. He smiles, and laughes as he pulls you in by your waist into a hug. “My boy did so good,” you whisper, allowing him to dig his head further into your torso as you giggle, your own fingers curling in his hair.

You smell exactly the same, like home. A home he never got to give you.

After he’s done being whiny, and well, a child, he pouts, throwing his head back.

“Aw man this is awful!” He shouts, and you laugh. The person he doesn't realize sitting beside him speaks up.

Suguru. His best friend, the one he had to kill, the one that would keep him up at night. The one that—

“Guess you were wrong.” you giggle, and Suguru stares at the two of you like you were keeping a secret joke from him.

You point at him mischievously, “He was all like, when you die you die alone, to his students, but look at the reality of it— well not really reality but still!”

He whines, “(Y/N)!!!”

Suguru breaks the ice, “How was the king of curses?”

Satoru huffs, shaking his head with a half hearted grin. He nods his head so the side, the empty seat beside him— which you take, his hand taking yours while you sit

It’s cold, just like his.

The tip of his nose hits the back of your palm, his eyes are closed before opening halflidded, staring out into the floor. His eyes peer over the overly tinted glasses, responding, “That guy was too damn strong, and he wasn’t even trying.”

It was almost mumbled, like a child complaining. Still holding your hand, he looks at Suguru, “To be completely honest, I don’t think I would even be able win.. regardless if he had Megumi’s cursed technique or not. The guy had too much up his sleeve.”

Your free hand pats his arm, laughing loudly you shake him lightly with a coo, “It’s alright, you’re my loser anyways baby,” you say with pressed eyebrows and puckered lips, almost teasingly.

He rolls his eyes, biting your hand lightly.

“I gave everything I had. Just a little sad you guys weren't there to support me, maybe you would’ve been able to give me a slap on the back to motivate me,” He jokes, shaking his head with closed eyes, imagining Suguru and yourself in the crowd of students.

“I’m glad that he was the one to kill me.” He confessed.

Somebody stronger than me. He wanted to say.

“It’s kind of gross hearing that from you, Gojo. You sound like a samurai general.”

You’re laugher bubbles up from your throat, tears forming as you turn back feom your seat.

“Kento, you’ll never change, will you?” You laugh, watching Satoru smack Nanami on the head multiple times, ruffling his hair in the process. You get up, releasing Satoru’s hand to sit in the seat besides Nanami. Smiling as the seat behind you is now empty.

Shoko.

It was for her, she was the last of the group, and you hope she wouldn't be here for a while.

“I won’t justify him, but I’ll sympathize with you.. I guess..” he mumbles, causing you to slap him on the shoulder with no ill intent, laughter from his stoicness.

“Hey!” Satoru snaps back, and you reach over and pinch his cheek.

“What I’m trying to say is, it was a fitting way to go out, Gojo.”

“You should be morw polite to your Juniors.” You chastise Satoru.

“I was already nice enough to you!” He retorts, and you tilt your head with a smile. His hand takes yours that was clipped to his cheek back in his,

“What was it like for you guys in your last moments?”

You blink, looking around the room.

“It was kind of scary,” you start, and he clenches your hand slightly. He remembers how the two of you split, you pecked him on the cheek with a determined expression, clenching your fist you told him you would be back, before warping to Harajuku. It was the last time he woult see you conscious.

You had crossed paths with Mahito, and you had it under control, until you didn't. Your weak nature, strong virtue, Satoru told you these would get in the way of you becoming a sorcerer, but you would always brush him off, telling him, I’m fine.

But you couldn’t help it, seeing a small girl in the line of Mahito’s path of destruction. Your arm was the price to pay for her life.

And, maybe you had lost too much blood, you cant remember, it’s a blur, but Satoru remembers.

Your leg contorted in a way he coulf only asume was unfoxable, your arm missing, eye streaming blood, you were dead. But his six eyes said you were alive, that you both were. And he was hopeless, tued up by the prisom realm, watching your eyes dim, he watched you die.

“To be honest, I wanted to quit with Kento, but I just couldn't bring myself to leave you alone doing all this. I don’t regret it to the end,” you smile loving at him, and he feels like vomiting.

“I would do this a thousand times over if I got to be with you every time.” You tell him sweetly, and Nanami coughs, “Enough with the sappy shit.” He grumbles.

You laugh again, and stare at Suguru. He looks back at you, and you feel your lips curling back up into a brighter smile. The man who defected, the man who left you all, he was here, and with you all.

“Once,” all attention back to Nanami. “When I was discussing with Mei-san about where I should move, she told me to move North to become someone new, and to move south to stay the person you are. Naturally, I chose South. I think it’s ironic how I died while betting on my future. But it wasn’t too bad because of Haibara.”

Haibara grins, “Aw! You’re too kind!”

“I see..” Satoru says, and you squeeze his hand back. His head snaps upward, looking right in front of him to Yaga, his voice as annoying as ever, “Yo Yaga! I thought you said no sorcerer dies without regrets!”

You laugh, and he laughs back, the room filled with laughter, Riko, Kuroi, Kento and Yu, Suguru, even Yaga.

“Now I’m hoping this isn’t a dream.” He confesses, while standing up, and you smile.

“It’s not, ya big loser!”

You shout, standing up from your chair and throwing yourself over it, crushing him. He falls back onto the ground, and Suguru jumps on top of you, Yu crushing him as Satoru wheezes, and you see him smirk.

“Welcome back!” You grin, Suguru’s face smushed next to your own. Haibara’s chin resting in between the two of yours.

He takes in the scene in front of him, everybody he’s loved all together, and finally, his arms wrap around the three of you, and he’s just so happy, that he doesn’t even Think about going back.

CLEAR MINDSET THIS IS MY REALITY NO ONE TELLS ME OTHERWISE SHUSH

[leavingsunsets]

Helllloo!!

I would like to request a senkuu x reader if possible! (Preferably some angst + romance but anything works!) Been looking for some inspiration and I love your work!

Also hopefully you're okay if I draw some of your work too

Thank youuuu!! (>u<)/

im okay with you drawing my work! saw some of ur art, and wow! glad ur a fan tehee :33 i see you've given me an angst plot, with romance? yes i will definitely fulfill this. i waaaassss ssupposed to make this action filled with scene wit reader dying in battle of treasure island arc and senku going "WHAT" and head in hands and sobbing and the gang has to go back to the mainland hat on stomach like ":(" but exams and research defense finished and i also jus watched cute little vid of an old couple so this is jussttt hmmm a softer angst set between events ig

"ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴍʏ ᴡᴀʏ."

[ꜱᴇɴᴋᴜ x ɢɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ]

It wasn't really a secret. You didn't even try, honestly.

Since the first of times of where you'd glimpsed his face at school, to the latest catch of him swirling fluid in a beaker, you've always been confident in your feelings.

Albeit a bit clumsy in your attempts, you were honest, never mincing them, never embarrassed.

"Senku, I really really like you!"

"Yeah, okay, could you pass me that screwdriver?" he says, both of you 6 years old in his room, as he gestures to the tool beside you.

"Senku, I want to date you. I heard Aimi had a boyfriend recently and I was thinking-" your voice goes interrupted as the loud sound of Senku's machinery overpower yours. 13 years old, another one of his favorite past times.

"Senku, if we were both nobles in medieval fantasy and I had to marry someone in order to get a persistent suitor off my back, I'd go to you. Offer a contract with an eventual divorce, but then we fall in love in a slow burn romance and start rethinking about our agreement."

"Can you- just- HELP ME, DAMN IT." Senku heaves, 16 years old, face turning red as he struggles to hold the boxes of equipment you came to help him with.

All these confessions, all these words, even before everything changed. The clatter of a can hitting the ground.

...

In this new life, surely, you know, Senku's had an absolute goal for this world. To rebuilt it as it was, from his own two hands. In your own way, you've had to learn how to pace your feelings.

Instead of words, as you always did, you decided to translate your affections into a language that matters most in a time like this.

Actions.

For every problem, every step he takes, you take with him. Express your thoughts, concerns, ideas. Any progress, you're there to celebrate with, any process, you're there to assist.

Declarations of love aren't so frequent, though you do like to sneak it in rarely. Announcing it in bursts of passion at the top of your lungs. Quite an antic you do, much to his embarrassment. It's become a well known fact, and often a joke between company.

Though, sometimes you wonder if it's what makes him doubt it. Your overt confessions, cheesy poems and bustling energy that could rival Taiju's. Was it too clumsy? Too obvious that he feels it's an exaggerated farce for show?

To this, you whisper gingerly in the dead of night, in the earliest of mornings,

"Senku. I really really like you."

In the times of uneventful hours, peacefulness in comfortable silence,

"Senku,"

You know, of course you do, of all people.

No one knows him more than you and that fact would've made you happy of such a thing if it couldn't break your heart more. The love of your life, saying everything said in a language that matters most in this time.

An unreadable glance. When the sun beams down brightly and you stare at him lovingly like he's hung the stars in the sky.

Winter strikes mercilessly, days are rough, tensions are high. When everything's all good and done, a bold pinkie inches towards his own. He doesn't pull away, but his hand moves back just as further.

Late at night, behind the tree he leans upon, watching, just watching. His ruby eyes enraptured by the night's celestial pearl.

Gaze too high, to see you.

You close your eyes.

You don't think you can ever stop loving him, despite that. That man doesn't like dragging things out, so you're sure a rejection is soon to come. Whether you approach first or not.

Why he doesn't do it sooner? You know why. As much as he doesn't reciprocate, you know how hesitant he is when it comes to close relationships such as you. Is he scared of breaking your friendship?

It's not the warmth you're looking for, but it's the warmth you can get. Even so, you would never expect him to return just as much as you've given. You love him for him, and not for anything else.

Tragic, how terribly you do.

Maybe one day, you'll learn to forget, to move your heart from where it isn't supposed to be. Maybe one day, you would stop gazing at him with something much more than fondness, waiting for his eyes to find its way back to you.

But until then,

"-I love you."

[sophrosynesworld]

Pinky Promise (Part 1)

Hero!Katsuki x Quirkless?Reader

War Arc Spoilers, Non-Cannon, Fluff

Katsuki has spent the better part of the year telling me stories about his friends—their wild adventures, their inside jokes—but this is my first time meeting them. Mina sits to my left, her pink hair bouncing as she excitedly tells a story about a prank gone wrong. On my right, Sero chimes in, interjecting at the funny moments with his own commentary. Their conversation swirls around me, lively and animated, but I struggle to keep up, feeling like an outsider in their effortless banter.

Katsuki sits across the room, squeezed between Kirishima and Todoroki. Kirishima’s laughter rings out, loud and carefree, while Todoroki’s quieter, more reserved comments punctuate the noise. It’s warm, so different from what I’m used to, and I can’t help but feel a little overwhelmed by the easy camaraderie. I glance over at Katsuki, and for a brief second, our eyes meet. His usual sharp expression softens just for me, a quiet look that makes my heart flutter. He tilts his head toward the door, a silent invitation I understand instantly.

I smile and rise from the couch, excusing myself from Mina and Sero with a promise that I’ll be right back. They nod, hardly noticing my absence as their conversation continues without skipping a beat. I make my way to the door, feeling Katsuki’s gaze lingering on me.

The cool night air greets me as the door clicks shut, muffling the sounds of laughter and chatter behind me. I walk to the wooden railing and lean against it, letting my fingers brush over the smooth surface as I stare out into the darkening sky. Birds scatter above, flying away as if they sense something I can’t see.

The door creaks open behind me, and I hear Katsuki’s familiar, heavy footsteps approaching. I don’t turn around, but I feel his presence beside me, the faint scent of smoke and sugar drifting in the breeze.

“Are those idiots bothering you?” Katsuki asks, his voice low and rough, laced with that protective irritation that’s so typical of him.

I turn around, leaning my back against the post as I meet his eyes. “Your friends are nice,” I reply.

“I didn’t ask if they were nice.” He scoffs, eyes flicking away as he crosses his arms. “If they’re bothering you, I’ll handle it.”

I step closer, reaching out to grab his forearm, ducking into his line of sight. “They’re not bothering me, Katsuki. I promise.”

He frowns, studying me with concern. “Then why don’t you look happy?”

“It’s personal.”

Katsuki frowns. “Who’s messing with you?”

“Katsuki!” I exclaim. “No one’s messing with me. I’m just… scared.”

His brows knit together. “Scared? Of what?”

“I don't want to tell you.”

He looks away, exasperated. “I can't fix it unless you tell me what's wrong.”

I swallow, the words heavy in my throat. “I keep having this nightmare… you... um.. I keep watching you die.”

His posture stiffens, but his expression softens. “I’m not gonna die.”

“You don’t know that!” I shout, my voice breaking under the weight of my fears. “It’s always the same vision—pouring rain, and you’re falling from the sky. I watch you hit the ground every single time I close my eyes.”

Katsuki breathes deeply, trying to steady himself, before he reaches out, cupping my cheek with a touch that’s uncharacteristically gentle. “Listen to me. I’m the best hero at this damn school. I’m gonna win this war, kick that nerd Deku’s ass, and take you out for dinner—all in one night. Got it?”

I manage a small, shaky smile, but it doesn’t quite reach my eyes. “Do you pinky promise?”

He rolls his eyes, but there’s a hint of a smile fighting to break through. He links his pinky with mine, squeezing tight. “Yeah, I pinky promise.”

Author's Note: This will be a 2-part series, let me know if you'd like to be tagged in the next one!

[vrystalius]

How would sanemi react to his hashira crush dying in the final battle against muzan? Like she dies in his arms (similar to obamitsu). They confess their feelings, his crush thanks him for everything and tells him not to blame himself and to live a happy life once she’s gone. Sorry im just in the mood for a lot of angst! 😅

Sanemi loosing his crush in the final fight

Dying in his arms, trying to confess your feelings before you’re gone forever.

Pairing: Sanemi x hashira!fem!reader

(Heavy spoilers for Infinity Castle Arc)

“I-I’m sorry, Nemi…” Sanemi couldn’t believe his eyes. You were laying in his arms, bleeding out slowly. That damn six eyed freak kept targeting you over him, stabbing and slashing you over and over. He didn’t dare to look down at how your blood was draining out of you. He just stared at your face, your beautiful face. His eyes were blurry and he couldn’t stop sobbing.

“I’m sorry… I’m such a burden, hah…” You were smiling weakly at him, blood dripping down from your lips. Sanemi was shaking his head and pulled you closer, gripping onto your clothes for dear life “N-No, no! Y-You never were a burden!! You never were a p-pain!! F-Fuck-“ Sanemi was sobbing loudly while his salty tears fell onto your face. He roughly cupped your cheeks, pulling you closer. “I-I love you! I-I LOVE YO-YOU!! P-PLEASE, DON’T FUCKING DIE BEFORE ME!!” He screamed at your face.

You cupped his cheeks and wiped his ever returning tears away, your foreheads touching “I love you too, Nemi… you’re.. the best.. in the whole world…” Sanemi let out a guttural scream, yelling at the infinite halls above him. “I’M BEGGING YOU, GOD! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!!” You felt your life force slowly slip out of between your fingers. “It’s okay, Nemi… be happy for me, okay?… We should… get married in our next..life…” You whispered while weakly holding onto Sanemi’s uniform, leaning your head against his chest. He sobbed and looked back down at you. Sanemi was shaking his head rapidly. “I-I can’t. I-I c-can’t- n-not without…” He couldn’t finish his sentence as his eyes widened.

Sanemi watched your expression turn more peaceful snd restful. You looked like you were simply asleep, but he knew better. He started hyperventilating and screamed at the skies above, sobbing.

“GRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!”

💠

I may or may not have cried multiple times or the whole time while writing this. I love Genya so much and I based this fic on his death, so I had the manga beside on the page where he dies, sooo… I am not ready for this death :(.

But don’t apologise for requesting, angst is one my favs >:)

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINM enough!

Take care of yourselves <3

Now if you’d excuse me, I gotta finish crying in peace.

[cyber-dump-171]

Chapter 4: Crewel & Crowley

Objection! Stand your ground! Marvelous! (Twisted Wonderland x Reader)

← Chapter 3 | Masterlist | Chapter 5 →

Word count: 4.5k.

WARNING: brief mentions of possible drug addiction and smuggling pills.

Note: this is more of a filler chapter, but, Heartslabyul's arc begins next chapter. Enjoy!

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The door opens with a rather loud creak, giving way to an empty office plunged in darkness, the only thing he can see is the mahogany desk illuminated by the silver moon and some pictures depicting the “Great Seven” slowly floating up and down a few meters above the floor.

If someone asked Crowley why his workspace is so austere, the crow would reply, "less is better". It's more professional, cleaner, makes a better impression, and can also be intimidating. But in reality, he rarely uses this space, preferring to work in the office of his subordinate and “close friend,” Divus Crewel.

His office is much more cozy than his, the reduced space and furniture-lined walls can be claustrophobic to some, but to him, it is just perfect. Besides, Crewel's taste in decor and color is trendy yet classy, and the crow man understands why the fashion enthusiast and scholarship science nerd ended up as the Pomefiore dorm leader during his high school years.

Originally, Crewel found it frustrating that the bird man was constantly swinging by to his workplace, already annoyed that he barely had any alone time during the day and then the flamboyant man was invading and working in his personal office. 

It started with their papers and files getting mixed up, then Crowley left empty cups and plates strewn around his desk, and the breaking point was when he found the crow man’s mask and coat hanging from his office chair.

Crewel told him to get lost and use his own office. 

Crowley offered to double his salary and extend his vacation days in exchange for using his office. 

A deal was quickly struck.

And he'd be working there right now if he hadn't been so rudely kicked out by the potionology teacher. A little birdie (Sam) told Crewel that Crowley had placed the magicless kids in the health hazard that is the Ramshackle Dorm.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Crowley's concentration is interrupted when the office door bursts open and Crewel steps in, his fluffy white and black coat nowhere in sight. His eyebrows are furrowed so tightly that they might melt together as he shouts angrily at the headmaster. “Explain to me why, in the name of the Great Seven, you thought it was okay to put these children in that house!?” his screams echo through the room.

“Good evening to you too, Divus,” the man in front of him sneers before slamming the door and walking over to the desk, hands on his hips. “Don’t ‘good evening’ me! Answer the damn question!” the crow man can already feel the headache coming on as his brain pounds at his friend's screams.

“Well, where else was I supposed to put them? I wouldn't let them just walk out of here, this world is very dangerous! You know I'm a very benevolent person,” he mutters the last part with a grin, proud of his actions. On the contrary, Crewel wants to gouge out the crow's beady little golden eyes and slap him across the face. “Benevolent!? Dire, just last week we were talking about tearing that thing down after the ceiling almost collapsed on Trein!”

Ah, he's on a first-name basis now, that’s not good.

“If you feel so bad for them, why don’t you house them, then?” Crowley proudly retorts, finally lifting his gaze from the paperwork, noticing his friend’s flat and unimpressed expression. “I live in a one-bedroom apartment. I’m not about to add three teenagers into the mix and force them to sleep in the sofa bed.” 

That's a lie, it was actually a two-bedroom apartment, but he turned the other room into a walk-in closet with a huge mirror... What? He ran out of room for his clothes!

“What about your house? I know you have plenty of space,” Crewel crosses his arms, remembering last year's staff holiday party that Crowley begrudgingly hosted in his home after pulling the short stick from the pile. The crow man scoffs, offended by the idea. “There’s not enough space for the four of us there.”

“Dire, you live in a mansion!” “I value my space!” “And not mine!?”

Crewel sighs, throwing his head back exhausted from this pointless conversation. He fails to understand why his “friend” is so reluctant to give these kids a proper space to live. “Did you tell them that they can get food from the cafeteria? Or to use the gym showers?” Crowley quickly averts his gaze, shyly twiddling his fingers as he remembers the deal. “I… um… well…”

“Crowley,” the potionology teacher warns in a low tone and the crow man can feel the rage that emanates from the man, making him even more nervous to admit what now seems like a really bad idea. “I kinda… told them that… well, that they'd have to work for their food and clothing,” he watches in horror as Crewel goes slack-jawed, the color draining from his face as he processes the sentence. “But! Don’t worry, I’ll give them a good salary and plenty of time to rest!”

He says this as if it were a good solution.

“Child labor!? Crowley, we’re going to get sued!” 

“They can’t sue us, they don’t have valid IDs!” 

“Not them, the government, you moron!” Oh… 

“Well, I'll just draft some contracts to cover our ass, we'll be fine, don’t worry!” 

“They're minors, they can't sign them without their parent's permission!” 

“One of them is 18! The blonde one... I think…” 

“And the other two?” 

“Well, if you're so worried about them, why don't you adopt them!?” 

“Because, legally, they don't exist in this world! Also, I'm too young for children!” 

“You're 32!” 

“Shut up! You're older!”

Ah, this conversation is getting nowhere.

Crewel runs his fingers through his hair, completely ruining the hairstyle he spent a few good minutes on this morning. This is bad, terrible, even a disaster! Throughout the entire debacle of the entrance ceremony, he watched from the sidelines in pity as the faces of the three children fell in horror and shock when the mirror declared that their home didn't exist.

He can't imagine it… suddenly being ripped away from your world and thrown into a dimension where your only support system is two strangers close to your age and an idiot headmaster who can't even house you properly while forcing you to work. He gets it, it's expensive enough to maintain this school and repair the walls and hallways from other students' mischief, but...

For the sake of the Great Seven, he lives in a mansion and enjoys a good salary that's close to six figures, so he can spare a few thaumarks! Besides, Crowley can't even use the excuse of “crow-like nature” to take and keep shiny things. That is the behavior of a magpie!

Despite all the talk about "disrespectful puppies" and his desperate need to take a long break from his students, Crewel still loves and cares for them. And these three kids struck a chord with him, reminding him of his childhood. 

It was also heartbreaking as he walked by the Ramshackle dormitory and watched the three students cover the lower half of their faces with their shirts as they shook the dust off the blankets and old pillows they were going to sleep on tonight. 

The teacher turns to face the headmaster, who has taken his silence as an indication that the conversation is over, and returns to his paperwork, scribbling something unintelligible on the manila pages. Ugh, if only he could get out of his office to think of a solution... Wait a minute! That's it!

“All right, since you're so stubborn and selfish, you can't set foot in my office or talk to me until those kids are sleeping in a safe place and have proper food and clothing!” Crewel grabs the back of Crowley's coat, the crow man gasping in surprise as the teacher tucks the documents that were sprawled on the desk under his arm. 

He was going to threaten to quit, but he needs this job. That set of platinum rings his favorite designer released the other day won't pay for itself.

“Wha- Divus, what in the world!?” the door of the office flies open as the headmaster is unceremoniously kicked out into the hallway, a heavy pile of papers shoved hard against his chest, causing him to momentarily lose his breath. “I said what I said... I'm changing the lock on my office as well. Goodbye now.”

As soon as the piece of wood is slammed shut, Crowley snaps out of his stupor and turns to the blocked entrance, papers falling to the floor as he loudly bangs his decorated fists on the door. “DIVUS, I'M SORRY! CAN WE PLEASE TALK!?” a muffled groan interrupts his tantrum, but the potionology teacher does not attempt to get up from his chair and reason with the crow.

Whining and yelling, the headmaster continues to demand entry and a calm conversation, the complete opposite of his current childish behavior. In his stupor, the crow man fails to notice another member of the staff rounding the corner of the antique hallway, the fluffy, chubby cat in his arms yawning sleepily as his golden eyes suddenly focus on the Headmaster. 

And his owner gazes horrified at the scene.

“Crowley! What is the meaning of all this shouting!?” the booming voice of Mozus Trein echoes through the walls as the crow man turns to face the sound, his beady golden eyes widening in relief as he sprints towards the faculty member.

“Trein! Thank the Seven! Divus has gone mad! He kicked me out of my office!” before the older man can even process the scene unfolding in front of him, Crewel's angry voice intervenes from the other side. “It's MY office, Crowley. Yours is at the top of the building!”

“I thought you weren't talking to me!” he's being petty now, and he knows it, but he can't help it. “Yes, because you're making a ruckus and not respecting my boundaries! GO AWAY!” the two of them return to their pissy fight, Lucius, Trein's cat, ducks his head with an annoyed “meow” and covers his ears with his little paws.

“Enough of this display! You two should be ashamed of yourselves, you're grown men fighting like children. Imagine what would happen if a student saw you two like this. And answer my question, what caused this kerfuffle in the first place?” as Crowley opens his mouth to explain, Crewel cuts him off and sums up the situation in a matter of seconds.

The hall is filled with a palpable and tense silence as Trein's eyes narrow on the headmaster, who nervously shrinks his shoulders and twiddles his fingers. Man, he forgot how intimidating the old man really is, no wonder the students are deathly afraid of him. "Crowley, this is incredibly irresponsible of you," the crow man groans, slapping his face in frustration at the phrase that has become a mantra in the last few minutes.

"UGH! But what was I supposed to do?" he acts like a petulant child, his hands falling harshly to his sides in exasperation. From the other side of the door, Crewel coughs loudly and slips in a comment that irks Crowley to no end. "Don't put them in that dump." "Are you talking to me now!?"

“Quiet you two!” Trein interrupts again, holding his furry companion a bit tighter in his arms, a prominent vein adorning his forehead as he grows increasingly exhausted by his colleague and boss fighting like an old married couple. 

"We'll deal with it tomorrow, but I agree with Crewel that it is dangerous to let them stay in that house. Either fix the building or move them to another one."

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

And that’s how the crow man finds himself stuck working in the cold office, HIS cold office, a pout on his lips as he lays the crumpled documents on the desk. Fucking Crewel, why did he suddenly turn into a mother and defend those children so much!? None of them complained when he took them to the building, even that Yuuken kid seemed excited to meet the ghosts!

Ah, whatever, he’ll deal with that later. Right now, there's the more pressing matter of repairing the Ceremonial Hall after the fiasco caused by the blue flame monster and finding a replacement nurse since the other one is on maternity leave.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafts through the dimly lit office as the headmaster quickly scribbles unintelligible words on a piece of paper. The antique clock hanging above the doorway ticks away the seconds, the hands nearing together at the top, signaling that it will soon be midnight. Outside, the commotion of students running amok as they finish their dorm welcoming parties is long gone, replaced by the singing of the owls and the howling of the cold wind.

The silence and stillness are shattered when Crowley's pointed ears perk up at the sound of hurried footsteps approaching his office. He groans softly as a pair of knuckles rap urgently against the old wooden door, the crow man pushing back his fatigue as a quiet "come in" falls from his lips.

The door opens slowly, a few seconds later a recently familiar head peers over the opening and Crowley recognizes the slightly familiar face. What was your name... "Ah, (Y/N), how may I be of assistance?" you take a few steps and stand awkwardly in the doorway, curious eyes scanning the room.

Crowley thought you were the most "normal" of the three non-magical students. Figaro creeped him out during the walk back to the dormitory, sharp eyes watching every move and pestering him with rather invasive questions. In contrast, Yuuken's reactions to the ghost made the crow man think of him as an endearing, if not bizarre, naive boy. At the entrance ceremony, he mostly took you as a panicked person attempting to maintain a level head while processing copious amounts of new information.

He can't blame you. If he were in your situation, he might go crazy, too. Let's hope you don't turn into a troublemaker, he already has enough headaches to deal with.

“Sorry for barging in so late, but can I steal a few minutes of your time?” how polite! My, after all the rudeness he experienced today your well-mannered question is more than welcomed! He extends a hand with a small smile and silently beckons you to come in and not wasting a single second, you hurriedly shut the door before walking over to the desk.

“I saw a student behave and carry something suspicious while exiting the infirmary,” ‘oh well, darling, if you stick around long enough, you’ll find out that everyone in this school is suspicious, but, do spill the beans,’ he thinks while nodding along at your sentence, before stopping abruptly as a puzzled look crosses his face.

“Infirmary? I swear that door is supposed to be locked,” he whispers under his breath, brows furrowed as he urges you to continue. You tell him everything that you witnessed during your late visit to the library: the student’s erratic and twitchy behavior, the mention of a “Master” and most disturbingly, the syringe with the mysterious liquid. 

Crowley's chin rests flat on the back of his gloved hands, his elbows digging into the wooden surface as golden eyes stare off into the distance, processing the myriad thoughts floating through his mind. “Were you able to see who it was?” you give some of the details you managed to catch under the dim light but admit that you weren’t able to truly see who it was. The crow man simply nods, jotting down your words on a piece of paper.

An uneasy feeling settles in the pit of the headmaster's stomach. Originally, he thought you might have caught some students smuggling pills or antibiotics out of the infirmary, an unfortunate incident that has happened several times before, which is why the room is always locked when there isn't a nurse in it.

But this...

As if a switch had been turned on in his head, Crowley clumsily yet hastily searches through all the drawers of his desk before finding a rectangular device tucked away under some papers and trinkets. His phone. He unlocks it, his golden claw clacking harshly against the glass as he types out an urgent message to the faculty and dorm chat groups:

“ATTENTION: it’s been reported that a student has broken into the infirmary and was spotted carrying a syringe containing an unidentified liquid. The student has the following characteristics: approximately 175 cm tall, pale skin, black, dark purple or blue hair, and green or brown eyes. He was spotted exiting the room at around 11:55 p.m. wearing ceremonial robes.

It is mandatory for dorm leaders to search for this student and make a surprise inspection of each dorm room. You will be allowed to skip the first three periods of classes and have the option to have two other people assist you. Please report their names in this group chat to report them as excused from their responsibilities. If you find the person and/or object, report immediately to faculty.”

“Um, that’s all. I don’t know if you need me for anything else, so, I’ll go,” you’re about to scurry out of the cold office when Crowley calls out your name, asking you to wait. An idea crosses his panicked mind, and he knows that Crewel will definitely have his head for it, but with this incident and the lack of a nurse, he can’t leave the infirmary unoccupied. “(Y/N), how much do you know about medicine?”

The question catches you off guard, and your eyes widen momentarily in surprise before returning to their normal state as you contemplate his question. Crowley remembers your actions at the entrance ceremony when you cleaned the wound of the blond boy (whose name he doesn't remember, but the crow man associates it with a cat). 

The small homemade first-aid kit you pulled from your bag tells him that you've at least had to constantly deal with treating wounds or that you're an over-prepared person. Either way, you would work.

"Well, I've taken several first aid courses and have basic medical knowledge," the headmaster half-listens to what you mutter under your breath, something about "university" and "medical school." Eh, he doesn't care to know about the details. "Great! You're hired! Instead of reporting to the courtyard, go straight to the infirmary tomorrow morning. I expect to see you there at 6 a.m. sharp!"

A stunned gasp escapes your lips as your eyes scan the headmaster, confused by the sentence you just heard and hoping inwardly that he was joking. Instead, Crowley simply tilts his head to the side, an innocent smile on his partially covered face as he decides that this is a wonderful idea. Why, this could be an experience for you!

“H-Hold on! Isn’t this the job of the nurse!? Also… what would happen if during my shift someone gets stabbed or comes in with a broken leg!? T-The bone poking out of the skin and everything!” the crow man momentarily grimaces at the mental image, but he quickly regains his composure as an evil thought crosses his mind. 

“Do not fret! You’ll deal with superficial or minor injuries. If anything serious were to happen, just give Professor Crewel a call using the office’s phone! He'd be more than happy to help you!" Crowley exclaims as he rises from his desk, the velvety chair making a loud noise as its legs scrape against the floor. 

With a grin that could rival that of the infamous Cheshire Cat, he jots down the potionology professor’s number on a ripped piece of paper before handing it to you. ‘That’s payback for the office!’ He saunters over to the entrance, completely ignoring your horrified expression as you stare holes at the paper in your hands.

“Ah! That reminds me…” his voice snaps you out of your detrimental thoughts, curious eyes turning around to watch as the headmaster opens the door. “I’m aware that your current situation is far from ideal. Therefore, until you are back on your feet, please use the showers in the gymnasium and your meals from the cafeteria," he proudly puffs out his chest as he watches your eyes light up and you nod excitedly, quietly thanking him.

“Also, feel free to take anything from the ‘lost and found’ box in the library. We have a policy that the items that remain there for more than three months can be taken by anyone. From my knowledge, the objects there have remained for more than five months,” he adds as you head out into the hallway, and Crowley can't help but feel proud of himself. “My, aren’t I so kind?”

He ignores your face as it shifts from one of gratitude to one of disgust, too busy enjoying his generous actions. “Uh, sure… t-thanks man,” his beady golden eyes follow your figure as it fades into the distance. When you disappear as you make a right turn, Crowley gently closes the door before sighing, fingers pinching his forehead as he feels the oncoming headache.

Alright, now, to deal with this situation.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

You take your time walking back to the dorm, admiring the starry sky with each step. Your head swims with different thoughts, fueled by your chronic insomnia, as you ponder once again where you are and what you have seen. A world where magic exists and where there are ghosts, flying broomsticks, monsters, and a bunch of crazy people.

If someone had told you the day before that you would end up in a magic school, living in a dormitory that would fall if you looked at it the wrong way, you would have laughed your ass off.

Fucking hilarious.

You yawn, hot crystalline tears clouding your eyes as you rub them vigorously. You groan as the cold wind kisses your skin and you feel more awake than tired, even though the exhaustion of everything you have experienced today weighs heavily on your bones and muscles. You feel restless, but not tired. 

Frankly, you kind of hate your body.

The dead leaves and twigs crackle beneath your soles as you stuff your hands into your pockets, a morbidly familiar building creeps up from the horizon, but you watch in confusion as two pairs of lights move erratically in through the windows. Seconds later, Figaro and Yuuken almost kick down the front door as they emerge from the house, their hair disheveled and their eyes red as they sneeze and cough violently.

Your walk turns into a light jog as you approach the two men, the blond one letting out a sigh of relief when he sees you. It turns out that during your failed adventure to the library, the three ghosts of the house decided to play a prank on the Finnish man by ruffling the white sheets covering the nearby furniture in his bedroom, causing a huge cloud of dust to rise from the fabric and enter his nostrils.

On the other hand, Yuuken awoke to a tickling sensation on his hand, only to almost punch a hole in the nearby wall as a spider seemed to be happily walking on his appendage. Then part of his back began to itch and he panicked, thinking he had some kind of rash from the dirty blankets. However, when you pulled up his shirt to examine him, all you found were some red marks from his nails and, thankfully, no small bumps or any sort of physical ailment.

You, on the other hand, recounted the events and swore that the porch lit up with Figaro's excitement as you informed the two men of Crowley's offer. He even started bouncing on the balls of his feet at the mention of a free shower. But when the chatter dies down and the only sound is the song of the nocturnal animals, the three of you stare back at the intimidating building.

“I’m not going back in there,” Fígaro whispers in a scratchy voice, his eyes still watering from the sneeze attack. “Where else are we supposed to sleep though?” you retort, not too thrilled about the idea of going back to the house and laying your back against the stiff and dirty mattress. Yuuken is rather quiet, a thoughtful hand scratching his chin before an idea pops into his head, bright eyes turning to look at you both.

“Why don’t we sleep outside? It’ll be like camping, just without a tent,” you almost snort out loud at the sight of Figaro's face contorting into an expression of astonishment, eyes wide open as the blond man is rendered speechless. “Are you mad!? And what, get our eyes clawed out by some bizarre three-headed night creature!?” the Kendo student crosses his burly arms over his chest, quietly clicking his tongue in disapproval at the Finnish man's words.

“Is either this or you sleeping back inside that dust-infested room… Or you can also clean out another bedroom, but, Pembroke and I aren’t going to help you, we’re tired,” the booming voice of Yuuken echoes through the dilapidated porch, his intimidating side finally coming out to the moonlight. But, Fígaro doesn’t seem to back down, even though he’s quietly stunned for a few seconds. His body rapidly turns around to you, blue eyes scanning your face. “Please, tell me that you’re with me on this one.”

“Eh, I’m not. I’ve slept on the balcony of my house multiple times and nothing happened, so, Yuuken’s idea is fine by me,” you shrug, the blonde man gawking at your words. To be honest, you've slept in worse places and the idea of falling asleep under the stars doesn't bother you at all. “Dude, calm down. The most that will happen is that we’ll get some bug bites.”

You would have thought about it more if you'd been a little more awake, but all your rationality was thrown out the window as you suddenly felt more sleepy and tired. Finally.

And so, with two votes against one, you found yourselves lying on a thick blanket spread out on the dead grass, the branches of a nearby tree serving as your cover, at Fígaro's request. The whiny blonde is snuggled between you and Yuuken's back, having insisted on the spot because he was cold and “forced by both of you to participate in such an activity.”

The Kendo student didn't give a damn about his complaints, shushing him between sleepy yawns, too exhausted to argue with him about the stupid place in the makeshift bed. Meanwhile, you were more concerned about the fact that you'd only be able to sleep for a few hours before you had to go to work. Will you have enough energy?

You hope so. A good shower and a strong cup of coffee should give you a boost tomorrow morning.

As the blades of grass gently nudge your back, the three of you say a quiet good night. Your heavy eyes finally begin to close, the cold wind gently kissing your skin as the soft snores and tired breaths of your new roommates lull you into a deep sleep.

The three of you fail to hear the horrifying screams of Crewel and the booming laughter of Ashton Vargas, the gym teacher, as the two faculty members watch you sleep under the tree.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Tag list:

@rotknox @agaygothicmushroom @sherryclover @mielle-estelar @yuriluvr2000 @Shironakuronatasa @yourlocalhot-simp @stvrbrighttt @tearsofgenshin @mewmew-dream @lehn2206 @coleisyn

[mononijikayu]

a red winter — ryomen sukuna.

The wind whispered through the cherry blossom trees, casting a delicate veil over the scene. Sukuna's heart, heavy with sorrow, echoed the mournful silence of the winter landscape. He had loved you more deeply than he could ever express, and now, in this moment of finality, he struggled to comprehend a world without your presence. He struggles to know what life truly is worth, if there is no you to give it meaning. He looks at you, defeated. 

GENRE: Heian Era to Shibuya Arc, 2018;

WARNING/s: Alternate Universe ─ Canon Divergence, Romance, Emotional Hurt, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Heavy Pining, Domesticity, Friends to Lovers, Character Death, Grief, Miscarriage, Mention of Depression, Mention of Mourning, Depiction of Physical Touch, Depiction of Mental Anguish, Depiction of Violence, Depiction of Harm, Depiction of Blood and Wounds, Depiction of Miscarriage, Depiction of Death, Depiction of Harm, Pseudo-Incest, Adoptive Cousins, Portrayal of Misogynist And Degrading Acts and Language, Smut, Detailed Depiction of Sex, Depiction of Sexual Foreplay, Sexual Penetration, Consensual Sex;

masterlist

ashes of love

song: a red winter by ahn ye eun

ko-fi

note: i quickly wrote this knowing ill be gone for a while due to my exams. i would like to say that i apologize that this is what im leaving you with for a week or two. but truly, i hope you forgive me. in any case, two more chapters!!! thank you for your support for ashes of love. i hope you love this chapter and i'll see you in the next one!!! i love you <3

YOU FELT EXHAUSTED. In the following months, you found yourself embroiled in relentless clashes against the usurpers of your son’s rightful lordship—the formidable Zenin and Kamo clans. Each battle drained you further, the weight of responsibility and the constant struggle wearing down your spirit. Despite your children's repeated insistence on joining you in battle, their youthful determination remained unwavering. They wanted to avenge their clan, their name, their father. 

However, you steadfastly refused, maintaining that a child should never be on the battlefield. Your son was just ten and seven, your daughter only shy of ten and two. You refused at each turn their determination to be in battle. And each time, the quarrels would tear you apart. But you would not let them win. Not at this moment. They were all you had. And you were damned that you would lose them too. 

Your heart ached at the thought of their innocence being tarnished by the brutality of war, their futures jeopardized by the unpredictability of combat. You had just lost your husband. To lose your children would drive you to a place you did not want to think of. You met their fervent appeals with gentle yet firm insistence, seeking to shield them from the harsh realities of the front lines.

You bid them farewell with a heavy heart, watching as the columns of men marched solemnly away from the Ryomen lands, their faces set in grim determination. Each step they took seemed to echo with the weight of impending doom, a silent acknowledgment that many among them would not return from the battle ahead.

Turning to look at your children, you saw the stark contrast in their reactions. Your son stood tall and stoic, his jaw clenched with a resolve that mirrored your own. His refusal to meet your gaze spoke volumes of the burden he carried, the unspoken fear of losing his father and the weight of inheriting a legacy of honor and duty.

Beside him, your daughter hesitated, her eyes betraying a mixture of fear and uncertainty. She searched your face for reassurance, her lips parting as if to speak but faltering before any words could escape. In her youthful innocence, she struggled to comprehend the gravity of the moment, torn between wanting to be brave for her family and the overwhelming fear of the unknown.

You sighed heavily, the weight of your responsibilities pressing down upon you like an oppressive cloak. You took a moment to memorize the sight of your children, their features etched with worry and determination. In their eyes, you saw reflections of your own struggles, the sacrifices made in the name of duty and the relentless march towards an uncertain future.

With a deep breath, you were helped atop your own horse, the sturdy beast beneath you a steady anchor amidst the tumult of emotions swirling within. As you urged your mount forward to join the departing ranks, you spared one last glance at your children, their figures growing smaller in the distance.

In that fleeting moment, you prayed silently for their safety, for the strength to endure the trials ahead, and for the hope that one day, they would understand the sacrifices made in the name of honor and duty. With resolve renewed, you rode forth to meet your fate alongside your comrades, the echoes of farewell lingering in the air like a solemn promise of return.

Amidst the chaos of battle, you led your forces with a heavy heart, consumed by concern for their safety. The clash of steel and the agonized cries of comrades-in-arms created a grim backdrop to your inner turmoil. As the carnage unfolded around you, you clung steadfastly to the belief that their lives were precious and must be preserved at all costs.

Your relentless bloodhounds tore through anyone who crossed their path, driven by your command. Meanwhile, your white flames scorched enemies one after another, fueled by the intense energy coursing through your bleeding wrists. Despite a blow to your face causing you to stagger, your purple eyes blazed with determination as you knelt, the blood mixing with your cursed energy.

With a fierce resolve, a naginata materialized in your palm, and you lunged forward with primal aggression, unleashing a ferocious attack upon your foes. The battlefield echoed with the clash of weapons and the cries of the fallen, but amidst it all, your unwavering determination to protect your comrades burned as brightly as the flames you wielded.

As you fought with a savage intensity, each swing of your naginata cut through the air with deadly precision. The battlefield seemed to bend to your will, as if your determination alone could reshape the outcome of the conflict. Your allies fought alongside you, their trust in your leadership unwavering despite the odds stacked against them.

Blood and sweat mingled on your brow as you pressed forward, the weight of responsibility heavy upon your shoulders. The battlefield was chaotic, bodies strewn across the ground, both friend and foe alike. Yet, through the haze of battle, you remained focused, your senses attuned to every movement and threat.

Amidst the frenzy, a sense of clarity emerged—a resolute belief that this war, no matter how prolonged or brutal, would not break your spirit. Your heart pounded in rhythm with the pulse of the conflict, each beat a testament to your unwavering commitment to those who fought beside you.

After what seemed like an eternity, the clash of steel finally subsided, leaving behind a haunting silence punctuated only by the groans of the wounded and the crackle of distant fires. The battlefield lay strewn with bodies and broken weapons, a grim testament to the ferocity of the conflict.

You stood amidst the aftermath, your chest heaving with exertion, and your naginata still in hand, its blade gleaming with blood under the harsh glare of the sun. The adrenaline that had fueled your relentless assault now slowly ebbed, leaving behind a bone-deep weariness that threatened to overwhelm you.

Surveying the scene, you felt a mix of emotions—relief that the immediate threat had been neutralized, sorrow for the lives lost, and a grim determination to press forward. Your thoughts turned to your comrades-in-arms, the survivors who now looked to you for guidance and strength. They bore the scars of battle, both physical and emotional, but their resolve remained unbroken.

Slowly, you began to organize the aftermath—tending to the wounded, accounting for the fallen, and preparing for the next phase of the campaign. Despite the toll it took on your spirit, you knew there was no time for rest or reflection. The war raged on, its relentless tide pulling you deeper into its grasp with each passing day.

As dusk settled over the battlefield, casting long shadows over the scene of carnage, you found a quiet moment to reflect. The faces of those you had lost haunted your thoughts, their sacrifices blossoming red with the thunder of war. Yet, amidst the sorrow, there was also a glimmer of hope—a steadfast belief that your efforts were not in vain, that each battle brought you one step closer to an end. 

With a weary sigh, you turned towards the horizon, where the first stars of evening began to twinkle in the darkening sky. The weight of responsibility sat heavy on your shoulders. You cannot quit now. You must continue. Even if this kills you. No matter what. You must continue. Whatever the costs.

The voice in your head laughed derisively, its mocking tone echoing in the recesses of your mind. "Foolish human," it sneered, "You cling to your frailty and stubborn pride. What honor is there in this futile struggle?"

You gritted your teeth, a surge of defiance rising within you. "There is honor in fighting for what is right," you retorted, your voice firm despite the tremors of doubt. "I would rather die in this struggle than any other way. At least here, I stand for something greater than myself."

The voice scoffed, its presence like a shadow looming over your thoughts. "Stubborn to the end," it taunted. "You will learn the futility of your resistance."

But you held fast to your convictions, refusing to let doubt cloud your resolve. "I will not yield," you declared, steeling yourself against the relentless assault of doubt and fear. "There is honor in the struggle, even if I do not emerge victorious."

As the voice faded into the background, its laughter turning hollow and distant, your lips pursed into a flat line. You sighed heavily, the weight of exhaustion settling deep within your bones as you leaned against the pillar of the wall. The ground around you was stained with blood, a stark reminder of the relentless cycle of battle that had defined your existence.

War had been your constant companion, an unyielding force that shaped every aspect of your life. It was a truth you had come to accept, yet one that weighed heavily on your heart. In moments like these, when the chaos subsided and the cries of conflict faded into silence, you allowed yourself a rare moment of reflection.

Gazing up at the sky, where a solitary heron glided gracefully against the canvas of deep blue, you couldn't help but yearn for something beyond the endless struggle. You wondered what it would be like to experience true freedom—to soar through the open skies without the burden of duty and battle pressing down upon you.

The heron's wings sliced through the air with effortless grace, a symbol of peace and serenity that felt so far removed from the harsh realities of your world. For a fleeting moment, you allowed yourself to imagine a life untouched by war—a life where the sky was not a backdrop to conflict but a boundless expanse of possibility and tranquility.

But as quickly as the thought came, it was replaced by the harsh reality of your circumstances. The war demanded your unwavering commitment, your sacrifice, and your strength. There was no escape from the responsibilities that tethered you to this life of strife.

With a heavy heart, you pushed yourself away from the wall and resumed your vigilance. The heron continued its graceful flight, disappearing into the distance, leaving you with a lingering sense of longing. As you turned your gaze back to the battlefield ahead, you steeled yourself once more for the challenges that lay ahead, knowing that true freedom would have to wait for another time, another life.

When you had gotten up, you had been given news from the other fronts of the battle. Mikoto Masaomi, a loyal ally, managed to defeat the Kamo, effectively knocking them out of the war. This victory brought a brief respite, but the Zenin still posed a significant threat. Leading your forces against the Zenin, you fought fiercely, yet the battle ended in a stalemate. The toll of constant conflict was evident, both in your body and spirit.

In a surprising turn, Ryomen Sukuna appeared on the battlefield, his presence as formidable as ever. He swiftly killed the Zenin lord, forcing their surrender. True to his word, Sukuna did not come to see you. He honored your wishes, even though the distance between you brought a pang of sorrow.

With the Zenin subdued, only the Gojo usurpers remained. But the exhaustion was too great. The relentless battles had taken their toll, forcing you to postpone the campaign against the Gojo clan usurpers. Gojo Seiryuu, desperate to reclaim his rightful place, begged you to allow him to lead the charge. 

Your return had been marred with his pondering. You could see your husband in him, through and through. His youthful fervor and determination were palpable, but you couldn’t bear the thought of him facing such danger. He was still a boy. And you didn’t want him to deal with this. Not yet. Not while you were still alive.

"Mother, please," Seiryuu implored, his voice filled with a mixture of desperation and resolve. "I need to do this. For our family, for our honor."

You shook your head, your heart heavy with worry. "No, my dear boy.  You must understandI cannot risk losing you too. You are the future of our clan. We will find another way."

His cerulean eyes, filled with the fire of youth, met yours with unwavering determination. "I am ready, mother. I can do this. I am a grown man. I must avenge my father. Please.”

Despite your resolve, the fear of losing him gnawed at you. The battles had already claimed too much, and the thought of sending your son into such peril was unbearable. "You don’t understand, dearest boy. This war has taken everything from us. I can’t let it take you too."

He reached out, taking your hand in his. "Then let me fight for us. For my father. For everything we’ve lost."

Tears welled in your eyes, the weight of your decision pressing down on you. "I will not lose you, my boy. We will find another way. I promise."

As you stood there, facing your son’s determination, the voice in your head whispered again, mocking your fears and doubts. “No, my son. I am sorry.”

He stared at you, hurt and disappointment etched in the lines of his cerulean eyes. His jaw tightened visibly, a silent testament to the emotions roiling within him. For a brief moment, you searched for the right words, a desperate attempt to bridge the gap that had suddenly formed between you.

But before you could speak, he nodded slowly, the motion deliberate and final. The hurt in his eyes deepened, a silent reproach that cut deeper than any words could. Without another glance, he turned abruptly and walked away, leaving you standing there, words unspoken and regrets hanging heavy in the air.

You reached out, a futile gesture towards his retreating figure, wanting to call him back, to explain, to mend what had been broken. But the moment slipped through your fingers like sand, leaving you with nothing but the echo of his footsteps fading into the distance.

As you stood there, grappling with the weight of his disappointment and the ache of your own remorse, you realized the gravity of your actions. The hurt you had caused weighed heavily on your heart, a bitter reminder of the consequences of words left unsaid and moments lost forever.

Masaomi had come to you, his usually composed demeanor overshadowed by urgency and concern. He stood before you, his voice carrying the weight of conviction as he advocated fervently for your son, Seiryuu. His words were measured yet impassioned, highlighting the young boy's potential, his dedication to the Ryomen clan, and the responsibilities that awaited him as the bearer of the six eyes.

"Hiromi-sama," Masaomi began, his voice carrying a mixture of respect and urgency, "Seiryuu-sama believes he is ready. And I must agree. He has grown into a man, and not just any man, but the heir of the Ryomen clan and the Gojo lineage. How will others perceive his mother fighting on his behalf?"

His words hung in the air, laden with unspoken implications. Masaomi's concern was palpable, his loyalty to both you and Seiryuu evident in every carefully chosen syllable. He stood before you, awaiting your response. But you don’t say anything. His lips pursed into a line.

"He has the potential to surpass even his predecessors, he already has." Masaomi continued, his gaze unwavering as he met your eyes. "But he needs a chance to prove himself. And your voice of support, my lady, is most important.”

“He is still a boy.” You whisper to him, your eyes tender with pain. “I do not wish to see him killed, Masaomi. He is all that is left of my husband.”

"He may be a boy but he is a boy who wants to lessen your burdens and avenge his father," Masaomi explained, his voice steady yet impassioned. “He may be your son, but he is your equal now. You cannot deny him.”

You purse your lips as your maternal instincts battling against the tide of his words."He’s still so young, Masaomi. I cannot send him into such danger."

Masaomi’s gaze softened with understanding, yet remained resolute. "He is lord Gojo now, my lady. You cannot shield him from the world of danger forever. Not even if you tried. Do not make him resent you for taking away his only chance to bring peace to his father in himself.”

His words struck a chord within you. You knew he was right. As much as you wanted to protect Seiryuu, you couldn't keep him from his destiny. Tears welled in your eyes as you voiced your deepest fears. He was right, you knew he was. But you could not help yourself. You could not help but stumble into fear one after another.

"I'm terrified, Masaomi. Of losing him, of my weakening body, of death creeping closer."

Masaomi stepped closer, his presence a comforting anchor in the storm of your emotions. "You shouldn’t speak that way." he said softly, his hand reaching out to clasp yours. “We shall win, as we always have.”

“I do not deserve your loyalty.” You muttered under your breath. “What would my father say? What would my uncle say?” 

He shakes his head. “You have been more than what we could imagine, my lady. I doubt they will say anything but praise, my lady. You were their hope then, and you are our hope now.”

“You flatter me too easily.”

He shifts for a moment, giving you a soft smile. “It is all honest words, my lady.”

You sighed, your eyes shining brighter than before. “You must protect him. That is first and foremost your priority. You understand? Let him lead, but caution him, rein him in when he needs it. I cannot risk losing him too.”

Masaomi's expression softened with empathy as he listened to your whispered words. He bowed his head slightly in acknowledgment of your grief and the weight of your fears. He could see a weight lift from your shoulders when you said those words, when you finally let it all go — to finally let them share your burdens.

"I understand, Hiromi-sama," Masaomi replied softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "Seiryuu-sama's safety and future are paramount to us all. But he is determined, and with your guidance, he will navigate these challenges with the wisdom and strength that you have instilled in him. As your father has done for you.”

You nodded slowly, the ache in your heart palpable as memories of your husband and the burden of leadership mingled in your thoughts. "Very well, Masaomi," you said, your voice steadying with resolve. "Prepare him, but tread cautiously. His path must be chosen wisely."

Masaomi bowed deeply once more, a silent promise in his eyes to uphold your wishes and protect Seiryuu to the best of his ability. As he turns to leave, you call him with a tender tone. He turns his back and looks towards you once more. Your eyes lower for a moment. You do that a lot when you think. When you ponder about what to do. He knew that look too well.

“What do you ask of me again, my lady?”

A sad smile touched your lips. "I have a favor to ask of you."

Without hesitation, he replied, "I’m willing to give everything of myself to you. I always have. You know that.” He stops himself for a moment, looking at you. “My body is yours, my heart is yours, my mind, my soul—everything has been long surrendered, my lady. All you have to do is ask of it and I shall give it.”

You knew he would say that and you knew that he would never deny you anything. You smiled at him, walking towards him. “Then do not deny me this.”

“I would not dare, my lady.”

The decision to marry Masaomi was not taken lightly; it was a strategic move born out of necessity rather than desire. In the tumultuous landscape of ongoing conflicts and shifting alliances, stability and continuity were paramount for the Ryomen clan's survival. As the leader, you bore the weight of ensuring a secure future not only for yourself but for your son, Seiryuu, and the entire clan.

Masaomi had proven himself time and again as a loyal and capable ally. His unwavering support and dedication to the Ryomen clan had earned your trust. Despite the initial surprise and speculation from outsiders, you knew that marrying Masaomi was the best decision to safeguard your son's inheritance and protect the clan's interests.

The news of your marriage spread swiftly through the supernatural community, sparking whispers and speculation. Some questioned the motives behind the union, while others admired your pragmatism in securing the clan's future amidst the chaos of war. For you, it was a sacrifice of personal desires for the greater good, a testament to your resilience and commitment to the Ryomen legacy.

It wasn’t enough that he was your loyal servant. Your son needed a father figure, someone who would protect and guide him with the same fierce devotion you had. Mikoto Masaomi had readily agreed to the marriage, his loyalty unwavering. He had given his life to serve you, and now, he would live to serve and protect your son.

As you stood together, facing the uncertain future, you felt a strange sense of peace. Masaomi’s unwavering presence was a balm to your soul, a reminder that you were not alone in this battle. He would be there, by your side, to face whatever came next.

"I appreciate your dedication, Masaomi," you replied softly, meeting his gaze with a mixture of gratitude and resolve. "Seiryuu is everything to me. He's the last link to his father and our legacy. I trust you with his life as much as I trust you with mine."

Masaomi nodded solemnly, his expression unwavering. "I understand the weight of this responsibility, Hiromi-sama. I will not fail you or Seiryuu. You have my solemn vow."

A brief silence hung between you, filled with unspoken understanding and the weight of the decisions that had led to this moment. You knew the challenges ahead would be daunting, but with Masaomi by your side, you felt a flicker of hope that the Ryomen clan could endure against all odds.

In the midst of the escalating conflict, Masaomi had taken your son with him to quell the resistance from the allies of the usurpers. His mission extended to launching an offensive against the Gojo holdings to decisively eliminate the threat posed by the usurpers. Left behind in the safety of your chambers, you sighed heavily, exhaustion etched into every line of your face as you gently rubbed your swollen belly.

The news of your unexpected pregnancy had caught you off guard. Beyond your childbearing years at nearly forty-three, you had believed such a possibility to be remote, if not impossible. Yet here you were, carrying a child conceived against the odds. The strain on your body was undeniable; each passing day seemed to amplify the weariness that settled deep within your bones. With each movement, you felt the weight of your age and the physical toll of pregnancy, a reminder of the fragility of life even amidst the tumult of war. 

And you feared the worst. Most women your age do not survive childbirth. Women even younger than you do not survive it either. There was no security.Even with your previous pregnancies, you have had a hard time. Masaomi had been horrified that such had happened, he had borne guilt over the matter but you had reassured him that you would be fine. He does not yet wish to leave for battle. Not until you had the babe. But you would not stall him. Not when this war longs to be finished and won.

As you sat in the quiet of your chamber, contemplating the risks and uncertainties that loomed ahead, Masaomi entered with a solemn expression, his worry palpable in the furrow of his brow. He approached you with a gentle but concerned gaze, his hands clasped tightly together in a display of internal conflict.

"Are you sure about this, my lady?" Masaomi's voice was soft, tinged with anxiety. "You know the dangers. We've lost so many, and I cannot bear the thought..."

You met his gaze with a calm resolve, though your own fears echoed silently within. "I know the risks, Masaomi. We've faced them before," you replied, your voice steady despite the weight of your words. "I've survived this before, and I believe I can do it again. Our child deserves a chance at life, just as much as we do."

Masaomi's eyes softened with affection and concern as he reached out to gently stroke your cheek. "You are strong, my lady," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "But it pains me to see you endure such hardships."

"It's a burden we both bear," you whispered, leaning into his touch. "But we must see this war through to its end. I won't hold you back."

He shook his head slightly, his expression conflicted. "I can't bear to leave you like this."

A small smile touched your lips, filled with reassurance and determination. "You must go, Masaomi. Our people need you," you urged gently. "We will face whatever comes together, as we always have."

Masaomi exhaled heavily, torn between duty and his desire to protect you. Finally, with a nod of reluctant acceptance, he straightened his posture. "I will stay until the child is born," he declared quietly, his resolve firm. "Then I will go, and we will end this war, once and for all."

“You must not.” You tell him, shaking your head. “Finish the war as soon as possible. There will be time to meet the babe after.”

“But my lady—”

“I shan’t change my mind.” You whisper back to him, your hand rubbing the center of your belly. “Your heir may wait.”

He will not win against you. Not a mere consort. He purses his lips. He slowly nodded. “Very well, my lady.”

“There is another I must leave to you,” You tell him. “Just in case.”

“What is it, my lady?”

"Should I die, Sukuna will try and lay claim to the Ryomen's power," you say, your voice steady but filled with resolve. "He has the name, the legitimacy equal to mine. None can stand against him."

Masaomi's eyes widen with shock. "But, my lady, to let the Ryomen name die... It's unthinkable. The Mikoto were a lowly house. To supersede the Ryomen...”

You cut him off, your tone firm. "It does not matter. My children will understand my will, and so must you. This is the only way to ensure their safety and the future of our clan."

Masaomi's expression is conflicted. "But, my lady, the burden... It is too great. The legacy of the Ryomen cannot simply be passed on like a mere title."

You meet his gaze, unyielding. "I leave you with the duty of caring for the clan. It is better that way because you are the one I trust the most."

He shakes his head, still grappling with your decision. "My lady, this is too much. The Mikoto name... it cannot bear the weight of the Ryomen legacy."

A sad smile touches your lips. "It must. For the sake of my children, and for the future of our people. You are strong, Masaomi. You will carry this burden and protect them."

Masaomi's eyes glisten with unshed tears. "I... I will do as you wish, my lady. But I pray that you live long enough to see your children grow, to see this burden through yourself."

You nod, feeling the weight of his words and the sincerity behind them. "Thank you, Masaomi. I know you will do everything in your power to honor my wishes."

With a heavy heart, Masaomi bows his head. "I will, my lady. I promise you that."

As he leaves, you feel a sense of relief mixed with sorrow. He turns his head back and makes his way towards you. You shrugged, taking a moment to look at him. He lowers his eyes and turns to your belly. His hand touches the babe, letting himself feel the movement of the little one—as though he’s burning it into memory. Seiryuu turns from his horse as he watches you and his stepfather have a moment. He bows his head to you and rushes forward, commanding the men. Your husband sighs, taking his hand off. 

“Will you not change your mind?”

“No, I will not.” You tell him once again, smile on your face. “The past must die with me. And be born with this little one, a new world.”

“You should not say such things so easily, my lady.”

“You do not know what will happen. It is better to be prepared.”

"My lady, this is too great a burden for Mikoto. To bear such a name, to carry on such a legacy—"

You shake your head, cutting him off. "No more, Masaomi. I do not wish to hear any more. You have to leave soon for the campaign against the Gojo usurpers. This is my will, and you must honor it."

Reluctantly, he nods, understanding the gravity of your decision. "When I return, we shall continue this conversation."

A faint smile tugs at your lips. "Perhaps."

As Masaomi prepares to depart, you feel a mixture of relief and sorrow. The burden of leadership weighs heavily on your shoulders, but you find solace in the knowledge that Masaomi will carry on your legacy and protect your children. You watched until they disappeared into the distance. You felt your child kick your belly. You sighed, rubbing the spot so tenderly against your layers of silk.

“You will have quite the future.” You whispered to your babe.

You can only pray to the gods that you are right this time.

Even if you would not be a part of it for much too long.

YOU SCREAM AND SCREAM. In the stillness of that fateful night in 973, the plans of the Gojo usurpers unfolded like a dark shadow cast over the impending dawn of victory. The air was thick with tension, the flickering torches casting eerie glows on the faces of the conspirators as they huddled in clandestine meetings, their voices hushed but urgent.

The Gojo usurpers, their ambitions threatened by the advancing forces of Gojo loyalists, the Mikoto warriors, and the steadfast Ryomen allies, knew that their only chance lay in a desperate gambit. The decision was made with grim resolve—to strike directly at the heart of their adversaries' strength.

Their target was clear: you, the matriarch of the Gojo clan, and Masako, your daughter, the symbol of the clan's future. By eliminating you and seizing Masako, they aimed to cripple the Gojo's leadership and secure their own claims through blood ties. The marriage of Masako to one of their sons would not only validate their rule but also ensure a fragile semblance of legitimacy amidst the chaos of war.

Under the cover of darkness, their forces mobilized with stealth and determination. Armed with the cold resolve of desperate men facing inevitable defeat, they moved swiftly towards Hida, where you resided, unaware of the imminent danger that lurked just beyond the horizon.

The night echoed with the distant sounds of marching armies, the clinking of armor, and the whispered orders of commanders. Each footfall carried with it the weight of treachery and ambition, as the usurpers plotted to reshape the fate of the Gojo clan in a single, decisive strike.

As dawn approached, the air was heavy with anticipation and dread. The clash of loyalties and ambitions hung like a storm cloud over Hida, where the fate of generations would soon be decided amidst the chaos and uncertainty of war.

In the tumultuous darkness of that pivotal night, your body, already weakened by age and the strain of conflict, began to betray you. The onset of labor pains, sharp and unrelenting, signaled the beginning of a battle within yourself—one that mirrored the external turmoil besieging Hida. 

Surrounded by the distant clamor of warfare and the urgent incantations of sorcerers, you endured the excruciating waves of pain with a resolve born of necessity. The severity of your condition was undeniable, the bleeding relentless, yet your determination to bring life into the world burned fiercer than ever.

Amidst the chaos of battle encroaching upon Hida's walls, you gritted your teeth and pushed with all the strength you could muster. Each agonizing moment underscored the fragility of life amidst the brutality of war. The fear of failure, of succumbing to the machinations of the usurpers, spurred you on, driving you to defy the darkness that threatened to consume everything you held dear.

With each contraction, each cry of anguish mingling with the clash of swords and the roar of flames, you fought. And finally, in a breathless moment that seemed to suspend time itself, your efforts bore fruit—a daughter, fragile and yet a testament to resilience, was born into the chaos of that fateful night.

As you cradled the newborn in your arms, the weight of exhaustion and relief washed over you. The cries of battle continued outside, a stark reminder of the world awaiting her beyond the sanctity of your embrace. Yet, in that fleeting moment, amidst the turmoil and uncertainty, there existed a fragile hope—a new life to protect, to nurture, and to defend against the tumultuous currents of fate.

With your newborn daughter nestled against your chest, the world around you seemed to quiet, if only for a fleeting moment. Despite the relentless siege on Hida and the precariousness of your own health, a sense of profound peace settled within you as you gazed upon the fragile life you had brought into the world.

Outside, the battle raged on, its intensity echoing through the walls of the fortress. Sorcerers and warriors continued to fend off the relentless assault of the usurpers, their efforts a stark contrast to the fragile serenity within the birthing chamber.

Amidst the chaos, you felt a surge of gratitude for the loyal defenders risking their lives to safeguard your family and your home. Their unwavering commitment bolstered your resolve, reminding you of the stakes of this conflict—a battle not only for territory but for the very future of your lineage.

As you cradled your daughter, her small features a delicate reflection of hope amid adversity, thoughts of Masako and Seiryuu weighed heavily on your mind. They were out there, fighting not only for victory but for her future—a future shaped by the outcome of this night's struggle.

Despite the pain and exhaustion, a sense of determination coursed through you. You knew the battle was far from over. The usurpers' desperation had made them ruthless, but it had also exposed their vulnerabilities. This night would mark a turning point, one where courage and sacrifice would forge a path forward for your family and your people.

In the flickering light of torches and the distant glow of fires, you whispered promises to your newborn daughter, vows of protection and love that transcended the turmoil surrounding you. With each gentle stroke of your hand against her soft cheek, you silently vowed to defy the darkness that threatened to engulf your world.

With trembling hands, the weight of your newborn daughter felt both fragile and heavy against your chest. The urgent cries from outside the birthing chamber reminded you of the perilous situation unfolding around Hida. Each echo of battle brought a stark reality to your decision—a decision born of necessity and love.

Your most trusted servant, a woman whose loyalty and dedication had been unwavering through years of service, stepped forward with solemn reverence. Her eyes, usually steady and determined, reflected the gravity of your command. She understood the weight of your words, the urgency conveyed in your trembling voice.

"Milady," she murmured softly, her voice a gentle reassurance in the midst of chaos. "I will protect them with my life."

As you placed your daughter into her waiting arms, a surge of conflicting emotions washed over you—fear for their safety, relief at their imminent departure from the besieged fortress, and an overwhelming sense of maternal instinct driving you to ensure their survival.

The newborn daughter, swaddled in soft fabrics, stirred slightly in response to the change in environment, unaware of the danger that surrounded her. Her innocent presence contrasted sharply with the turmoil outside, a poignant reminder of the fragile balance between life and death in times of war.

With a final glance, you entrusted not just your daughter, but the future of your lineage, into the hands of your loyal servant. Her resolute expression mirrored your own determination, a shared understanding of the sacrifices demanded by duty and love.

"Go," you whispered again, your voice steadier this time despite the lingering ache of separation. "Protect them."

As she turned to leave, your gaze followed her retreating figure until she disappeared into the shadows of the fortress corridors. The weight of your decision settled heavily upon your shoulders, a burden borne out of necessity to ensure survival. They must outlive you. They must go on and live. As long as they were alive, you will be too.

As the chaos of battle drew nearer, the urgent shouts and clashes of swords reverberated through the walls of Hida fortress. Sorcerers and warriors fought fiercely, their spells and blades flashing in desperate attempts to fend off the relentless onslaught of the Gojo usurpers. The air was thick with the acrid scent of smoke and the metallic tang of blood, a stark reminder of the brutal reality of war.

Despite the turmoil outside, you lay back in the dimly lit chamber, your strength waning but your resolve unwavering. Every labored breath carried the weight of exhaustion and pain, yet amidst the physical torment, your thoughts were consumed by the safety of your daughters. With each passing moment, the sounds of battle seemed to grow louder, a grim testament to the escalating violence that threatened to engulf everything you held dear.

The loyal servant hurriedly gathered Masako, your eldest daughter, and the newborn infant, her movements swift and determined in the face of imminent danger. The newborn's soft cries mingled with the chaos outside, a fragile testament to new life amidst the brutality of conflict. As the servant prepared to depart with your precious daughters, you knew that this moment marked a pivotal sacrifice—an act of maternal love that demanded separation to ensure their survival.

With a final, tender glance at Masako and the newborn, the servant disappeared into the darkness of the fortress corridors, her figure silhouetted against the flickering torchlight. In that fleeting moment, you whispered a prayer, a fervent plea to whatever powers might listen, that they would find safety beyond the walls of Hida.

Alone in the dim chamber, surrounded by the echoes of battle and the fading light, you closed your eyes, your heart heavy with the weight of uncertainty. Despite the weariness that threatened to overtake you, a flicker of hope burned bright—a fragile ember of belief that your sacrifices would not be in vain. With every ounce of strength, you clung to the belief that the combined forces of Gojo loyalists, the Mikoto, and the Ryomen would prevail, ensuring a future where peace and justice could once again reign.

In the quiet solitude of the birthing chamber, amidst the turmoil of war, you surrendered to exhaustion, your mind drifting between the realms of consciousness and dreams. With each passing moment, you held onto the hope that your daughters would find refuge, that they would grow to see a world where their mother's sacrifice had secured their future.

You let the tears pour from your face freely.

You made your peace with life and death.

You slowly sat up from the childbed and sighed.

“There must be an end, there must be.”

YOU COULD FEEL YOUR BODY TEAR ITSELF APART. Amidst the chaos of battle, blood seeped from your body in a steady, unnerving flow as you navigated the labyrinthine corridors of the Ryomen Manor. Each step was a struggle against the onslaught of childbirth, tearing through you with relentless force. The pain was an unyielding companion, a relentless torrent that threatened to consume every ounce of strength you possessed.

Blades clashed and cursed energies crackled around you, a symphony of violence that echoed through the once serene halls. Each encounter reverberated with desperate cries and anguished screams, the sound of battle and suffering intertwined in a cacophony that filled the air. Fear, raw and palpable, hung heavy like a shroud, mingling with the acrid scent of smoke and the coppery taste of blood.

In the midst of it all, your senses heightened to a fever pitch. Every sensation—fear, pain, anger, grief—merged into a maelstrom of emotions that threatened to overwhelm. Even as your own body numbed from the relentless onslaught, you remained keenly aware of the turmoil around you. The urgency to escape, to ensure the safety of your newborn daughter and Masako, drove you forward despite the physical agony and the impending danger that lurked around every corner.

The world beyond the inner chambers of the manor beckoned—a world where hope for survival flickered like a fragile flame in the storm of battle. With each faltering step, you pressed onward, your determination fuelled by a mother's instinct to protect her children at any cost. Every heartbeat, every labored breath, a surge of blossoming climax to war’s games.

At any moment, you were sure that your body would collapse. But that did not matter. You looked to the blood blow you. Your eyes fluttered, trying to keep awake. This would be enough. Enough blood. You stand in position, as straight as you possibly could and raise your hands near you. You took a deep breath as  your hands spread out in front, with thumb and index finger touching. 

“The seal of the ring of the Sun, Moon, and Earth.” You muttered under your breath as your body surges with cursed energy. “The gates of heaven, the battles of Bishamon, the naginata to blow….domain expansion! Heavenly Subjugation!”

As you uttered the incantation, the air crackled with tension, charged with the intensity of ancient powers coursing through your veins. The seal of the Sun, Moon, and Earth manifested upon your flesh, glowing with a primal energy that seemed to draw upon the very essence of celestial forces. Cursed energy surged within you, intertwining with your resolve to protect what remained of the Ryomen lands.

Above, the sky twisted and darkened, clouds swirling in ominous patterns that mirrored the chaos unleashed below. Stars twinkled with an otherworldly brilliance, aligning in intricate constellations that seemed to dictate the course of fate. The earth itself trembled beneath your feet, a testament to the raw power now at your command.

With a deep, steadying breath, you felt the blood flowing from your wounds mingle with the cursed energy, forming a potent symbol of your determination and sacrifice. The land itself responded to your call, the whole of Ryomen's domain pulsating with the echoes of ancient battles and celestial subjugation.

As you invoked the Heavenly Subjugation, time itself seemed to warp and bend. The world around you froze in suspended animation, caught within the unyielding grasp of your domain expansion. Minds trapped within the frozen tableau of reality, repeating in an endless loop, their actions and intentions ensnared by the unrelenting power you wielded.

Through gritted teeth, you focused every fiber of your being on maintaining the domain. The weight of centuries-old grievances, the sorrow of loss, and the fierce determination to protect your legacy propelled you forward. Each moment stretched into eternity, every heartbeat synchronized with the ebb and flow of celestial forces harnessed through your will.

Ryomen Sukuna arrived soon enough. You did not know how he knew, but he could feel you—your cursed energy spreading through Hida, mayhaps even beyond. The scent, the tension, the force of it was unmistakable to him. His eyes grew wide as he took in the scene before him: your Domain Expansion, Heavenly Subjugation, where darkness swallowed the world.

You stood in the courtyard of the Ryomen manor, bleeding from childbirth, your eyes slowly losing their light even as your stance remained resolute. You were altering reality as you spoke, creating a time loop illusion to protect those you loved. Sukuna knew that you had to keep yourself alive long enough to sustain the loop.

Breathing heavily, you barely registered Sukuna's approach. "Stop,stop it now!" he commanded, his voice filled with a rare note of desperation. "End it. The more you continue, the closer you are to death. Hiromi!”

You looked down at the blood pooling at your feet, from the birth of your child. Determination filled your bright purple eyes as you began to chant once more, releasing more cursed energy. It mixed with your blood as you invoked, "Heaven’s Blossom." 

Brutally misfigured, cursed spirits emerged from the pool of blood, their forms twisted and horrific. Each spirit bore the mark of their origin—born from your blood, infused with the dark energies that coursed through your veins. Their emergence was heralded by a guttural, otherworldly howl that echoed through the chamber, chilling the very air.

The spirits wasted no time in manifesting their malevolent intent. With a relentless fury, one of them lunged at Sukuna, the King of Curses, a primal force of chaos and destruction. Sukuna met the attack with a snarl of defiance, his movements fluid and deadly as he defended himself against the spectral assailant. The clash between the ancient curse and the vengeful spirit was a symphony of violence, each strike reverberating with primal power.

Meanwhile, the other cursed spirits moved with eerie precision, their ghastly forms gliding across the chamber floor towards their intended targets. With merciless efficiency, they descended upon their victims, their talons and fangs tearing through flesh and bone with grotesque ease. The more blood that flowed, the more the creatures seemed to grow in strength and ferocity, their unearthly hunger driving them to greater acts of carnage.

Amidst the chaos, another spirit joined the fray against Sukuna, its spectral form shimmering with malevolent energy. The King of Curses found himself beset on all sides, forced to fend off multiple adversaries while striving to reach you, their creator and the source of their dark genesis.

The chamber became a battleground of primal forces, a maelstrom of violence and supernatural prowess. The air crackled with dark energy, the stench of blood and death hanging heavy as the cursed spirits unleashed their unholy wrath upon all who dared to stand in their path.

Through the haze of battle, you struggled to maintain control, your bleeding wrists pulsing with cursed energy that fueled the relentless assault of your creations. Every movement was a calculated dance of survival and domination, your willpower tested against the insatiable hunger of the spirits you had unleashed upon the world.

As Sukuna fought tooth and nail to break through the onslaught and reach you, the chamber trembled with the intensity of the conflict. Each blow struck resonated with the weight of destiny, the outcome of the struggle poised on a knife's edge between triumph and oblivion.

"Stop this madness!" he shouted, slashing through one of the cursed spirits with a fierce swipe. But your resolve did not waver. You knew that this was the only way to ensure the safety of your children. “Night flower, please—”

You did not listen. The cursed spirits, borne of your blood and unleashed with relentless fury, swarmed the courtyard like vengeful specters. Their twisted forms twisted and tore through the ranks of the Gojo usurpers and their allies, leaving a trail of carnage in their wake. The air reverberated with the chilling echoes of their unearthly howls, a grim symphony to accompany the onslaught of death and destruction.

But Sukuna, the King of Curses, would not yield to such malevolent forces unchallenged. With ferocious determination, he met the spirits head-on, his movements fluid and deadly as he tore through them one by one. Each strike of his monstrous strength was a testament to his primal power, his wrathful gaze fixed upon you amidst the chaos.

The courtyard became a battleground, a grisly tableau of blood and death as Sukuna's relentless onslaught turned the tide of battle. The cursed spirits, once formidable in their malevolence, fell before his fury, their ethereal forms dissipating into nothingness with each devastating blow. Yet, despite the carnage surrounding him, Sukuna's focus remained singular—on reaching you, the source of this dark and chaotic magic.

As the last of the cursed spirits fell to Sukuna's relentless assault, the courtyard fell eerily silent, save for the ragged breaths and the lingering echoes of battle. The ground beneath your feet was stained with the blood of fallen enemies, mingling with the earth in a grim testament to the cost of war.

In the aftermath, Sukuna's eyes, filled with a mixture of relief and anger, locked onto you. His powerful presence approached swiftly, the intensity of his gaze piercing through the aftermath of chaos. Despite the victory, the tension in his demeanor was palpable, a storm of conflicting emotions swirling within him.

He reached you in swift strides, his footsteps echoing in the quietude that followed the storm. The King of Curses stood before you, his towering form a stark contrast against the backdrop of devastation. His expression, a mask of emotions ranging from fury to concern, betrayed the depth of his turmoil. It was like then all over again, you think to yourself. When he was a boy.

"You fool. You stupid, stupid fool." Sukuna growled, his voice a low rumble that reverberated through the courtyard. "How could you do this? You knew from the very beginning that you could—”

You met his gaze with a mixture of defiance and remorse, the weight of your decisions heavy upon your shoulders. "I had to. you replied, your voice steady despite the turmoil within. "There was no other choice."

Sukuna's eyes narrowed, his anger palpable as he regarded you with an intensity that bordered on fury. "There is always a choice, you know that." he countered, his voice a dangerous whisper. "But you chose darkness. This stupidity.”

“As you did.” You smiled at him wearily.

"You did it," he said, his voice breaking. "But at what cost?"

You swayed on your feet, the toll of the fight and childbirth overwhelming you. "The cost was necessary," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "My children are safe."

As your domain shattered around you, the immense strain and the toll of wielding such dark power became unbearable. Gasping for breath, you felt every fiber of your being scream with exhaustion, threatening to give way beneath the weight of your own formidable abilities.

Sukuna's voice echoed faintly in the distance, calling out your name with urgency and concern. The once-imposing battlefield around you now seemed distant and surreal, a stark contrast to the harsh reality of your body failing you. With each labored breath, the air burned in your lungs, and you struggled to remain conscious as the ground rushed up to meet you.

The bitter cold of winter snowflakes began to drift down from the leaden sky, settling softly upon your face and hands. The serene descent of snowflakes painted a stark contrast to the chaos that had just unfolded, a haunting reminder of the fleeting beauty and harsh reality of life.

Sukuna's strong arms enveloped you, pulling you close with a mix of desperation and tenderness. His gaze bore into yours, filled with a sudden panic that mirrored the intensity of your own struggle. He could see life slipping away from you, and his heart clenched with a fierce protectiveness born of deep and unexpected emotion.

"Calm down," Sukuna urged, his voice thick with emotion as he cradled your weakening form. "Stay with me."

You tried to respond, but each attempt was met with a painful cough, blood staining your lips and throat. The metallic taste of iron lingered, a cruel reminder of the toll exacted by your relentless pursuit of power and protection.

"I'm sorry," you managed to whisper, your voice barely audible amidst the biting wind and the soft patte of falling snow. "I didn't mean..."

Sukuna's expression softened, his features etched with a profound sorrow that cut deeper than any blade. He pressed his forehead against yours, the warmth of his touch a stark contrast to the biting cold that threatened to claim you. His fingers brushed gently over your cheek, as if trying to imprint your presence into his memory forever.

"Don't speak," Sukuna murmured, his voice a mixture of anguish and fierce determination. "You'll make it through this. I won't let you go."

But even as he spoke, you felt the world slipping further away, the edges of your vision blurring into darkness. Each breath became a struggle, a battle against the inevitable pull of unconsciousness and the chill of approaching death.

As the snow continued to fall, softening the harsh outlines of the world around you, you closed your eyes. The weight of your decisions and the burden of your power finally relinquished, replaced by a quiet acceptance. An acceptance that he does not accept. 

In Ryomen Sukuna's embrace, surrounded by the gentle embrace of winter's embrace, you surrendered to the inevitable passage of time. Your breathing slowed, the rhythm of your heartbeat fading into the stillness of a world forever changed. You let it all be, surrendering to the echoes of the cycle.

He tries to shake you, his voice urgent and filled with desperation. "Keep your eyes open for me. I can find someone to heal you."

You shake your head weakly at him, a sad smile touching your lips. "I knew it would end this way." you whisper to him with a soft tone. “From the beginning….”

Sukuna's red four eyes are wide with fear and sorrow as he clutches you tighter. "No, no," he swears, his voice breaking. "I will heal you. I will take care of you."

You reach up and touch his face gently. "I'm exhausted, Sukuna. It's time."

Tears brim in his eyes as he pleads, "Don't leave me. Please, don't leave me."

Your vision begins to blur, but you manage to smile at him one last time. "I have to leave. People always must."

“You are not people. You’re…you’re….”

You take his hand and kiss it softly, feeling the warmth of his skin for the last time. "I loved you the most in this life, but I hope in the next, I would not."

As you slowly drift away in his arms, the world around you becomes a distant blur. Sukuna's anguished cries echo in your fading consciousness, a haunting melody of love and loss. His grip tightens, as if he could tether your soul to this mortal realm, but even he, with all his formidable power, cannot halt the inevitable.

The winter snow falls softly, blanketing the world in a cold, quiet stillness. Sukuna's breath fogs in the air as he holds you, his tears mingling with the snowflakes that settle on your skin. His voice, once so commanding and fierce, is now a broken whisper. 

"I won't let you go," he murmurs, his tone laced with a desperation born of centuries of solitude. "I won't...Not now. Not ever.”

Your hand, resting gently against his face, falls limply to your side. The warmth of your touch fades, and the light in your eyes dims until it is no more. The final breath escapes your lips, a soft sigh that carries your spirit away from the realm of the living.

Sukuna holds you close, his body trembling with the weight of his grief. The courtyard, once a battlefield, is now silent, save for the soft whisper of the falling snow. He remains there, cradling you in his arms, the world around him a stark contrast to the turmoil within his heart.

Hours pass, and the first light of dawn begins to break through the darkness. The sky blushes with the hues of sunrise, painting the scene with a fragile beauty. But Sukuna is oblivious to it all. His world has shattered, and no amount of time can mend the pieces of his broken heart.

Amidst the crimson-stained snow, Ryomen Hiromi, esteemed leader of the Ryomen clan, breathed your last breath. The battlefield, now silent except for the soft fluttering of snowflakes, bore witness to the end of a formidable life—a life marked by courage, devotion, and unwavering love.

Sukuna knelt beside you, his hands trembling as they cradled your still form. His gaze, usually fierce and unyielding, softened with grief and disbelief. Your once-vibrant eyes, now closed in eternal rest, held the reflection of a thousand battles fought and victories won.

The wind whispered through the cherry blossom trees, casting a delicate veil over the scene. Sukuna's heart, heavy with sorrow, echoed the mournful silence of the winter landscape. He had loved you more deeply than he could ever express, and now, in this moment of finality, he struggled to comprehend a world without your presence. He struggles to know what life truly is worth, if there is no you to give it meaning. He looks at you, defeated. 

"Night flower….." he murmured, his voice breaking with emotion. "My love..."

He pressed his forehead against yours, as if seeking solace in the remnants of your warmth. Memories flooded his mind—of laughter shared beneath moonlit skies, of whispered promises in the quiet of night, of battles fought side by side against insurmountable odds.

But now, there was only silence. The weight of your absence settled upon him like a leaden cloak, suffocating and unbearable. The woman who had been his anchor, his confidante, his beloved, was now gone, leaving behind an irreplaceable void.

In the distance, the first rays of dawn painted the horizon with hues of gold and pink, a poignant contrast to the sorrow that enveloped Sukuna's heart. He knew that life would go on, that wars would be waged and victories celebrated, but for now, all he could feel was the emptiness left by your departure.

Gently, Sukuna closed your eyes, his touch tender yet filled with a profound sense of loss. He kissed your forehead, a final farewell to the woman who had captured his heart so completely. "Rest now, my love," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the whispering wind. "You will forever be in my heart."

As the world stirred awake to greet a new day, Sukuna remained by your side, his grief a silent tribute to the depth of your bond. The snow continued to fall, covering the earth in a blanket of white, the echoes of purity in your love amidst the chaos of war and destiny.

And so, amidst the red snow, Ryomen Hiromi passed from this world.

Ryomen Sukuna realized for the first time in years what it was truly like.

What it was truly like to be the most powerless creature in all of the world.

facts about this chapter

i can finally reveal the family tree of the ryomen family. i had to hold off but this is the family tree in the book, written by the newly born lady mikoto about her mom.

the mikoto became a prevalent clan by the end of the wars. the ryomen family name remained as a secondary name, but people ignored it the moment the family name changed to mikoto.

masaomi never remarried - he focused on revitalizing the ryomen/mikoto into one of the outliers of the jujutsu world all his life and protected his only child from any politiking that threatened her.

the mikoto are divided into two ranks now - those blood descendants of hiromi and those adopted and or are mikoto. the descendants of hiromi are represented by red and those adopted and or are mikoto are presented by purple. it traces where you come from in the clan.

hiromi's hand sign for heavenly subjugation is from the kuji-in or nine hand seals which are system of mudras and associated mantras that consist of nine syllables. hiromi uses number eight which is called zen.

eight is considered a holy number in ancient japan. its also considered a number of prosperity. the death of hiromi brings prosperity to other people, except herself.

hiromi dies at the age of 43 - which sounds like stillbirth in japanese. 死産 - shizan: 死 - death/to die and 産 - childbirth/produce.

masako was unseated as the heir to the ryomen because of the birth of her sister - due to the fact that her mother married masaomi and had a child with him. with the change of the clan name and the change in the system, masako was thought to be better as her brother's adviser.

the beginning of the gojo-ryomen/mikoto family ties truly started with the marriages between the children of hiromi. gojo satoru traces his descent from them.

sukuna did not challenge hiromi's youngest child for the ryomen seat. but a lot of the ryomen bannermen sided with him or went to the service of the gojo because masaomi was lowly in rank and thought sukuna or seiryuu/masako had more blood right than masaomi or his daughter did.

the chapter word number is in total 9900 words last i check and nine is an unlucky number in japanese. as nine often can sometimes pronounced ku — with the same pronunciation as agony or torture.

the next chapter happens near 70, 80 years after the death of hiromi and it will be from sukuna's perspective.

[visceralcoma]

I would like to remind everyone that Mary Kirby calling Lucanis's romance "steamy" is because she considers what is there to be steamy. Mary Kirby, according to Laidlaw, doesn't like writing romances (source). So for someone who doesn't like writing romance, I'd say that's damn good. because its slow, subtle, and reserved with an explosion of non-sexual affection in the way he looks at Rook and talks about Rook. It's perfect for his character and arc.

So temper yourself and quit calling it lackluster. Stop comparing it to Emmrich's or Davrin's romances. They have different arcs and are different characters and express their emotions differently.

And besides if you're really pressed to have more pda scenes... that's what fanfiction and fanart is for. Stop pleading to be fed with a silver spoon by the devs.

It's entitled.

[differentpostrebel]

Lost and Found: A Pirate's Promise

Chapter 42: Unforeseen Encounters 

Sanji in whole cake island was both Sad, but they gave us incredible angles

A/N: We are back at it again with another chapter! We finally made it to Whole Cake Island Arc!!! WOOOO!! Now get ready yall cause this one right here!! I am beginning to color coordinate with the chapters, i'll go back and do the previous chapters as well, but for whole cake island, thats going to be blue, and will be highlighted on the masterlist. Thank you guys for reading my fanfic, liking, sharing, reblogging, commenting! I love you all so much! And without further ado, let the adventure begin! 

Word Count:

Sanji x Reader, Sanji x Y/N, One Piece x Reader 

Sanji POV…

As the ship draws closer to Big Mom's territory, the cotton candy clouds drift lazily from the sky, dissolving in the wind. Yet, no sweetness from the air can ease the bitter knot of dread twisting in my stomach. Solitude. That’s what I feel most keenly now. I’m surrounded by her subordinates, and yet, I’ve never felt more alone. I chose this path, but it doesn’t make the weight any lighter.

Y/N’s face flashes in my mind—a vision I try to cling to, to remind myself why I’m doing this. The very thought of her being forced into the same situation I am, married off to that bastard Ichiji of all people, makes my blood boil. There’s no way I could let them find her or drag her into this nightmare. It’s better she stays far away. Better she doesn’t come here at all.

The letter I wrote her was my truth. No one else knows what’s in my heart, how deeply she’s become a part of it. My eyes are set on her. I’d sacrifice everything before letting her be pawned off in some arranged marriage, even though I’m in the same damn boat. But it’s different for me. I can handle this. I have to.

Bege was adamant about leaving Zou without her, and for that, I’m grateful. I refused to give them any clue as to where to find Y/N. Let them look, let them search—it won’t change a damn thing. Once I settle this twisted mess, I’ll find my way back to the crew. I’ll see her again. And when I do... maybe, just maybe, I’ll find the words to tell her everything that’s been locked inside.

"Now, I do hope you’ve decided not to be stubborn." The voice of one of Big Mom’s subordinates snaps me from my thoughts. His tone is smug, dripping with authority as he stands over me. "Remember, it’s not just Big Mom’s family you’ll be tied to. You’ll be swearing allegiance to Germa 66 as well."

I don’t flinch at his words, though it feels like a punch to the gut every time they bring up Germa. Those bastards. I swore to myself that I was done with them, but here I am, heading back to the hell I thought I’d escaped.

The subordinate narrows his eyes, as if something has only just dawned on him. "As for the princess, why is she not on board?" His question is laced with suspicion, as if he’s beginning to sense the gaps in the story I’ve woven for them.

"Like I said, the princess will not marry Ichiji," I snap, my voice firm as I stare down the subordinate. "Besides, she’s engaged to me."

It’s a lie—a bold one—but I wasn’t going to let them take an inch. I’d say whatever I had to, anything to keep them from dragging Y/N into this twisted mess. My stomach twists with guilt, knowing she really isn’t engaged to me. But in that moment, it’s the only card I have left to play.

The subordinate narrows his eyes at me, suspicion creeping into his expression. "Engaged to you?" He seems to weigh the words, looking for any crack in my story, any sign of hesitation. I hold his gaze, daring him to challenge it.

After a tense moment, he lets out a low, dismissive chuckle. "Doesn’t matter," he says, waving a hand as if swatting away a nuisance. "She is still set to marry Ichiji. Arrangements have already been made. Whether you claim she’s engaged to you or not won’t change a damn thing."

My fists clench at my sides, a surge of anger burning through me. These bastards think they can control everything, including her future. But I’ll be damned if I let them. They may have me in this stranglehold, but Y/N is where I draw the line. I’m not about to let them manipulate her life like they have mine.

"I told you," I grit out, my voice low but filled with resolve. "She’s not marrying that bastard. Not now, not ever."

The subordinate smirks, clearly enjoying my frustration. "We’ll see, Black Leg. We’ll see."

"You think I give a crap what that bastard wants?" I said with defiance, my frustration barely contained. "I never want to see him again. He makes me sick."

I lit a cigarette, taking a slow drag, trying to calm the anger bubbling beneath the surface. "I only came here to bring this to a close," I said, my gaze steady, focused.

"No need to get so antagonistic." The subordinate smirked, not missing a beat. "Mama is looking forward to both your arrangements. You should feel honored."

I exhaled a cloud of smoke, disgust settling in deeper. The thought of Big Mom pulling the strings on my life, dictating my future… it made my stomach churn.

"Mama’s well aware of your connection to Strawhat Luffy, but she holds you in high regard," the subordinate added smoothly. "After all, you trained at a prestigious restaurant in the East Blue. But the princess... well, it’s more than that. It’s about Ichiji. I remember watching her battle at Punk Hazard, taking down Monet. Quite the performance."

I clenched my jaw, the mention of Y/N’s fight bringing a flash of memories. She was strong, relentless, and fierce. They had been watching her, too. Of course, these bastards would want to use her.

The subordinate’s grin widened. "In fact, with Germa’s legacy behind her and her impressive abilities, they’d make a perfect match. The union of her skill and Germa’s technology? They’d be unstoppable together. Don’t you think?"

His words cut deep, filling me with rage. The idea of Y/N being paired with Ichiji, being forced into their sick plans, it was beyond unbearable. They didn’t care about her, only the power she could provide.

"You’re insane if you think I’ll let that happen," I growled through gritted teeth.

"Screw what they want!" I shouted, my frustration boiling over. "You see these hands?" I held them up, shaking with anger. "They’re made for one thing and one thing only—cooking for my crewmates. For as long as they'll have me!"

A flash of memory hit me like a punch to the gut—us, aboard the Sunny, all together, laughing, eating, enjoying each other's company. That’s why I went through hell and back—to become a better chef for them, for my family.

"I went through hell itself to become the best chef for them!" I yelled. "And I bet right now, they're starving—stomachs growling, eyes full of tears. And my beautiful fiancée, Y/N, must be craving something sweet right about now," I added with a smirk, blowing out a puff of smoke. "But punks like you? You aren't worthy of my food!"

"Vito!" The subordinate shouted, holding up something in his hand. "We've got a special photo from Whole Cake Island, lelo, just for you to see."

I didn’t bother turning around. "There’s not gonna be a wedding, jackass. What difference does a photo make?" I muttered, still seething. "And for the last time, my betrothed is Y/N."

"Just take a look," Vito insisted, inching closer.

I was ready to kick him into next week, but when my eyes landed on the picture, everything stopped. I couldn’t help it.

The girl in the photo—her face. Her soft, sweet eyes. My heart suddenly started racing.

"This is your fiancée, lelo," Vito grinned, knowing he'd hit a nerve. "The 35th daughter of the Charlotte family, Lady Charlotte Pudding."

I felt my heart pound in my chest as I stared at her. I wasn’t sure what to say, the cigarette barely hanging from my lips as I looked at the photo. This… this was the girl they wanted me to marry? My fiancée? My mind was racing, and for the first time, I didn’t have a quick retort.

Time had passed since I saw that photo of Pudding, but eventually, we docked. I walked silently, my mind still racing, trying to shake off the image.

"So, what do you think, lover boy? Quite the sight to see, lelo. Glad I showed you, lelo!" Vito’s irritating voice broke my focus, making me halt mid-step.

"It doesn’t matter what picture you show me," I said, my voice low and firm. "My heart belongs to another woman." Without missing a beat, I continued walking, trying to leave him behind.

"By the way," Vito started up again, "do you ever read the WEJ? It’s a major paper, lelo. They used to run this awesome comic strip, Sora, Warrior of the Sea—had a giant robot and everything. And the enemy? Well, it was the evil army of Germa 66."

I clenched my jaw but kept walking. He wouldn’t shut up. "People all over the world loved that comic," he continued, grinning like this was some big joke to him.

As Vito rambled on about Germa 66 and the comic, I just kept quiet, ignoring every word that spewed from his mouth. The last thing I needed was to be reminded of that cursed family, and even less of what they were planning with Big Mom.

When Vito finally led me to my room, I noticed Caesar locked up in a cage, ranting and raving as usual. "Would you stop following me? This is supposed to be my room," I said, glaring at Vito.

"It’s supposed to be my room too! Why am I locked in a cage?!" Caesar whined, throwing a tantrum.

"Serves you right for wishing ill on my princess," I shot back, settling on the sofa, trying to calm my irritation.

"I wish her nothing but hell!" Caesar barked, making my blood boil. My hand twitched, wanting to deck him across the cage bars.

"Listen, we were told to capture you, not pamper you, lelo," Vito chuckled. "But Sanji here, and what was supposed to be Princess Y/N, lelo, are the stars who will bring the Vinsmokes and the Charlotte family together as one!"

"Not happening," I shot back, crossing my arms defiantly.

Vito smirked, looking over at Caesar. "So you may be a genius, but they are worth more.”

 “I'm not getting married, and neither is Y/N. Now get the hell out of here." I lit another cigarette, my resolve firm.

"What did you just say?" a hitman named Gotti interjected, stepping forward menacingly. "Ain't nobody disrespecting my boy Vito! Now apologize or you're dead!"

"Gotti! It’s fine; he didn’t hurt me," Vito said, trying to control the situation. "He was just playing around."

"No, I was serious," I retorted, maintaining my stance with my arms crossed. "Now both of you get the hell out of my room right now!"

Gotti’s anger flared, but before he could respond, a female voice rang out from the doorway. "Gotti! What the hell are you trying to pull?"

She stepped into the room, her tone fierce and authoritative. "Please forgive me, I'm sorry, ma'am," Gotti stammered, suddenly on the defensive.

"Sorry ain’t gonna cut it. Gotti, do you realize he is one of the Vinsmoke family?" she scolded, pointing an accusing finger at me. "If you lay a finger on him, my Bege's head is going to roll! It’s bad enough my Bege couldn’t bring the princess, but you will not impose threats on a Vinsmoke!" With that, she yanked Gotti away from my line of sight, clearly not willing to let him escalate things further.

I took a moment to process her words, and as I watched her, something about her looked familiar.

The door closed, leaving me with a moment of peace as I blew out the smoke from my cigarette, the tension still thick in the air.

"Big Mom is going to kill me for sure!" Caesar whined from his cage, his voice trembling with anxiety. "None of this is fair! You're a Vinsmoke, and that princess is marrying that Vinsmoke, so you both get star treatment, and I get the giantine!"

I ignored him, my thoughts drifting back to Y/N. The weight of the situation pressed down on me, but I was determined. I wouldn't let them dictate my life, nor would I let them take Y/N away from me. The fight was just beginning.

Y/N POV…

I wiped the sweat from my brow, the sweltering heat making it hard to focus. Nami and I had switched outfits to survive this unbearable temperature. Nami opted for a white tank top and blue ruffled skirt, while I followed suit, wearing a white cropped tank with a few buttons undone and a blue mini ruffled skirt with open-toed heels. It didn’t help that we were stranded without Sanji and with nothing to eat.

"Alright, I was wrong... I'm gonna die after all," Luffy groaned dramatically, trying to catch something in the water. "It’s so hot, I might melt before I starve. I want Sanji back on this ship!" He complained, flailing about as the rest of the crew—Chopper, Brook, and Pedro—worked to catch something edible.

"Ugh, I’m hungry, it’s hot, and I’m tired," Carrot whined, lying across Nami and me in the shade. We were all feeling the exhaustion.

"How much longer will it take?" I muttered, feeling my arms turning to jelly as the sun continued to beat down on us.

"I know it’s hot, but someone please catch something while the sun’s still out," Nami pleaded weakly, echoing my fatigue.

"Go team food..." Carrot groaned from her position beside us.

Suddenly, Pedro called out. "Luffy! Pull quick!" Luffy reeled in a giant fish, causing us all to stare at the catch, momentarily hopeful—until we saw its strange, purple skin.

"Uh… why is the skin purple?" I asked, narrowing my eyes suspiciously.

"Yeah, that color might be a bad sign," Chopper said hesitantly.

"It could be poisonous," Nami suggested, eyeing the fish warily.

"If it’s a fish, then it’s food! You don’t know what you’re talking about!" Luffy insisted, delirious from hunger, as he began cutting into the fish’s skin.

Chopper rushed to Sanji’s locker, pulling out a cookbook, flipping through it frantically. "Let me see if Sanji has something on this type of fish."

A few moments later, Chopper returned, his eyes wide with alarm. "The skin is poisonous! You can eat the fish, but not the skin!"

We all turned to look at Luffy, who was chewing happily on the purple flesh. "The skin’s so good," Luffy said with a grin, offering me some. "Here, Y/N, you should try some too!"

"Hard pass, Captain," I said, shaking my head firmly.

"Wait, what? Poisonous? Oh no," Luffy groaned, but then he quickly shook his head. "I feel great. Maybe it’s not poisonous after all."

"Sanji’s notes say once you peel the skin, the rest of the fish is safe to eat," Chopper read from the book, sounding relieved.

"Alright, peel the skin, and I’ll cook it up!" Luffy announced, ready to spring into action. But Nami quickly smacked him on the head, reminding him that one kitchen fire was enough.

"You sit here and don’t do anything crazy!" Nami said sternly. "Y/N and I will cook the fish."

I peeled off the skin while Nami followed Sanji’s recipe to the letter, the kitchen filling with the mouthwatering aroma of the fish cooking. "That smells amazing, Nami," I complimented as we plated the food.

Minutes later, we brought out the plates, handing them out to the crew. Everyone dug in with tears in their eyes, relieved to have a decent meal at last.

"It’s so good!" Carrot cried, her energy coming back instantly.

"Chopper, eat something before you pass out," Nami urged, handing him a plate.

But despite the momentary relief, Chopper looked panicked. "Luffy’s doing really bad. I’m afraid he’s going to die!"

"I already used up all our antidotes," Chopper continued, tears welling up in his eyes.

"Oh no," I gasped, feeling the gravity of the situation settle in. "We need to find an island, Nami!"

"Unfortunately for your captain, we won’t be able to get to land for medicine," Pekoms said as he removed his bandages, his tone grim. "We’re about to hit Big Mom’s territory."

Our jaws dropped in shock.

"Black Leg Sanji has probably reached Whole Cake Island by now," Pekoms continued. "No matter what, don’t lower your guard."

Pedro moved to keep watch, and the rest of us tensed up. "At the first island we dock at, we’ll find an antidote for Luffy," Pekoms reassured.

Just then, I noticed something unusual. "Why is it snowing?" I asked, squinting at the sky.

"That’s not snow—it’s cotton candy rain," Nami said, her voice filled with disbelief. Cotton candy began falling gently from the sky, landing in my hand.

"We’ve entered Mama’s territory," Pekoms stated darkly.

"I see something!" Pedro called out. "It’s a ship, coming right for us."

"It’s one of Mama’s tart ships!" Pekoms warned us. "You guys, hide!"

As we scrambled to hide, Chopper worked to slow the effects of the poison spreading through Luffy’s body. "This is bad," he whispered.

"Do you see anything?" I asked in a hushed voice, squinting at the ship.

"Is that a transponder snail?" Nami asked as we peered out cautiously.

"It’s not Big Mom’s ship," she said, sounding confused as we stepped out from our hiding spots. The ship had an eerie presence.

"They call Germa 66 the warmongers," Nami explained, making me tense up. My heart skipped a beat.

"Isn’t that…?" I started to say, turning to Brook, who instinctively moved to shield me in case it was Ichiji.

Suddenly, we spotted someone on the ship with a familiar, curly eyebrow.

"Sanji!!!" Chopper cried, running toward the figure.

"Sanji?" I whispered, hope blooming in my chest. Could it really be him?

I grabbed my sword but quickly dropped it, my heart racing. I leapt forward, using all the momentum I had, and landed gracefully in front of the figure.

"Sanji!" I threw myself into him, wrapping my legs around his waist, hugging him with all my strength. My arms tightened around his neck as I buried my face into his shoulder. "Sanji, is it really you?" I sniffled, planting soft kisses along his neck.

"I have so much to tell you! Oh my goodness!" I said, holding onto him, relief and joy washing over me. But then, I clenched my fist and smacked the back of his head. "Why the hell would you say we were engaged?! We never even had that conversation!" I scolded, still clinging to him.

He tensed at first, his grip on me slightly different than what I remembered. But I brushed it off, my emotions clouding my judgment. "It’s okay, we can talk about that later," I said, loosening my grip.

But then, his hands tightened around me, the pressure becoming uncomfortable.

"Sanji… you’re kind of hurting me a bit," I said, squirming in his hold. Something felt wrong.

"Sanji… you’re kind of hurting me a bit," I said again, my voice firmer this time, but he didn’t release his grip. Instead, a dark laugh escaped his lips, sending a shiver down my spine. Something was definitely wrong.

"You can let me go now!" I demanded, but his grip only tightened. My patience snapped, and with a clenched right fist, I swung, punching him square in the face. His hold loosened just enough for me to leap backward, putting distance between us. As I caught my breath, my eyes locked on him—something was off. He wasn’t Sanji.

Before I could retreat back to the ship, he stood in front of me again, removing his hood with a smirk. My heart dropped.

"You're not Sanji," I whispered, my blades starting to hum with a white hue as I clenched my fists, electricity crackling through my right arm.

"Y/N!" Brook called from the distance, his voice filled with worry.

"Stay back, all of you!" I shouted to the crew, not taking my eyes off the imposter.

"Stop calling me Sanji!" he snapped. "You got the wrong guy. My name is Yonji," he said, his eyes scanning me from head to toe with a disgusting grin. "I gotta admit though, you're even better in person." His gaze shifted into heart-shaped eyes as he ogled me.

Disgust flooded through me as Yonji suddenly lunged forward, grabbing me by the left arm, yanking me closer. I struggled, trying to wrench myself free from his iron grip.

"Oh no, Y/N!" Nami gasped, watching in horror.

Yonji's grip tightened further as he sneered, "I don’t care if you’re my brother’s fiancée—you should’ve been mine from the start."

My heart raced, not out of fear but from pure anger. "I’m not anyone’s fiancée!" I yelled, and in one quick move, I sent an electrical current surging through my right hand, shocking him hard enough to make him release me. I leaped away, landing back on the ship just in time.

"Y/N, are you okay?" Carrot asked, rushing to my side.

"I’m fine, Carrot. Thank you," I said, catching my breath and standing back up. I turned toward Yonji, who had retreated to his ship, his eyes still filled with those disgusting heart shapes. His grin only widened.

"A feisty woman," he chuckled. "You’re so hot."

I clenched my jaw, anger boiling inside me. Just as I thought I was safe, Yonji extended his arm from his ship, grabbing me again, this time with even more force.

"Y/N!" Chopper cried as I struggled to break free. His grip was suffocating.

"Let me go!" I shouted, kicking my legs in vain as he pulled me closer.

"Why?" Yonji sneered, tightening his hold. "You liked me better when you thought I was Sanji. Why don’t you give me kiss, huh?"

"Wait, come back! Sanji!" Chopper yelled, his voice frantic.

"Ugh, I’m Yonji!" he growled, his annoyance flaring.

I had enough. Just as Yonji was about to pull me in closer, I lifted my right leg and landed a swift, powerful kick on his arm, forcing him to release me. I plummeted toward the water, but before I hit, I clenched my left hand and used the momentum to leap back into the air, landing safely on the ship once more.

I gasped for air, my heart pounding from the close call. "That was close..." I muttered, sheathing my blade back into its thigh holster.

"Oh no! Luffy!" Chopper suddenly cried out. "He’s developing a rash—he can’t fight it anymore!"

"Stay with us, Luffy!" Nami pleaded, kneeling beside him.

"Don’t give up, Captain!" I added, rushing over as I spotted my sword on the ground. I picked it up quickly, making my way back to Luffy.

"You must have some antidote!" Chopper yelled toward Yonji, his voice thick with desperation.

Yonji slid his glasses on, grinning arrogantly. "Sorry, guys, I’m not into the whole saving lives thing. But if you want that medicine, why don’t you come and take it from us? I mean, you are pirates, right?" His grin widened as he toyed with us.

Nami, fuming, clenched her fists. "He only has Sanji’s bad parts, none of the good ones! He’s just a playboy jerk!"

"That’s it," I muttered, fury burning through me. I clenched my left hand and, without hesitation, leaped into the air once more, my sword gripped tightly in my right hand. I was done with his games.

"Y/N, be careful!" Brook called out, his voice echoing behind me.

"Princess, can’t get enough of me, I see," Yonji teased, smirking as he moved to intercept me.

But I was ready. Pressing the red gem embedded in my sword, I expected the familiar blaze of red flames, but instead, a mix of red electricity and a vibrant blue hue surged from the blade. What is this? I thought, momentarily stunned. My sword had never done that before. The energy crackled around me, sharper, more powerful.

Just as Yonji reached out to grab me again, a female voice cut through the tension. "Yonji... Stop being so stingy, will you?" Before I could react, Yonji was sent flying into the air, crashing into the water below with a loud splash.

The sheer force of the kick had me blinking in shock. "That kick’s strength... it looked similar to mine," I muttered as I made my way back to our ship. I pressed the red gemstone on my sword once more, deactivating the energy, and placed the sword behind me.

"What is going on?" Nami asked, her voice filled with confusion.

Suddenly, the female who kicked Yonji out of the way gracefully landed on our ship. "Do forgive him. He’s rather heartless... a creep too, but never mind my little brother. I’ll set this straight." She flashed a charming smile, completely unbothered by Yonji’s embarrassing defeat.

"Creep is an understatement," I muttered under my breath, still glaring in the direction Yonji had been launched from.

"Little brother?" Nami echoed, her eyes widening as she looked at the mysterious woman who had just arrived.

"Are you related to Sanji?" Chopper asked, his curiosity piqued. "She’s got curly eyebrows too!" he exclaimed, connecting the dots.

"She’s lovely!" Brook said, hearts practically radiating from his eyes.

I couldn’t help but slap my forehead and shake my head at his antics. "Reiju!" Yonji yelled, now flying out of the water and into the air.

"He flies?" Chopper gasped, his eyes sparkling with amazement.

"Damn it! What were you thinking, humiliating me like that—and in front of the princess?!" Yonji was clearly furious, more bothered by his embarrassment than anything else.

"Baffoon! You should be ashamed of yourself!" Reiju scolded him, hands on her hips, clearly not taking his tantrum seriously.

"I wonder how he’s floating," Brook mused, observing Yonji's ability to stay airborne.

"Maybe it’s the same thing that King gave you, Y/N?" Nami suggested.

"Impossible," I responded, shaking my head. "I trained for two years to wield the power I have. It’s definitely not the same."

"Maybe it’s a Devil Fruit power?" Chopper guessed.

"It’s not like Sanji’s Skywalk or CP9’s technique either," Nami noted, trying to piece it together.

"Well, whatever it is, I just want him away from me," I muttered, turning my attention back to Luffy, who was still struggling.

"That’s because they didn’t acquire that skill through training," Pekoms chimed in, stepping forward. "It’s technology. They’re powerful, but the strength of Germa 66 is science-based. That’s why Big Mom wants them—she wants their technology."

"Does that mean I can fly with super shoes too?" Chopper asked, his excitement bubbling over.

"I don’t think that’s how it works, Chopper," I chuckled, despite the tension.

"Sanji’s family is amazing… I wonder why he never told us," Nami mused, her gaze lingering on Yonji and Reiju.

"Vinsmoke… the leaders of Germa 66," Brook said, his tone more somber now. "Pekoms, that name rings a bell. If I recall, Vinsmoke is the name of a royal family."

"Wait, like Vivi or Neptune’s family?" Chopper asked, his eyes wide with curiosity.

"So… they’re really famous?" I added, glancing up at Yonji, still floating above us with a smug grin on his face.

"That’s right. Their name is synonymous with evil. In fact, they were portrayed as villains in a comic strip," Pekoms explained, his voice carrying a note of warning.

I stood up from my position and sighed, running my hand through my hair, feeling Zoro’s bandana still securing it tightly. "Great… so my fiancée is not only an assassin, but he’s also evil."

The weight of everything felt like it was pressing down on me. How had I ended up in this mess?

Reiju laughed lightly, her composed demeanor masking any surprise at Brook’s bizarre request. “I’m impressed, you're quite the historian,” she remarked.

Brook, blushing despite his skeletal appearance, chuckled nervously. "Well, I have been alive for a long time... and dead as well," he said, taking off his hat and bowing. "You see, it’s not just a story. Even now, we are royalty. Germa is a land without soil. Although we own no territory, we are still given the right to join the Reverie, all the same," Reiju explained, her voice proud yet calm.

"I see," Brook said, still bowing. "May I see your royal panties, most honored lady?" he asked, this time falling to his knees in front of her.

Without missing a beat, Nami delivered a swift kick to the back of Brook's head. "Stop it!" she yelled, hands on her hips in frustration.

I shook my head at Brook’s antics but couldn't help smiling.

Reiju turned her attention to me. "As for you, Princess," she said with a warm smile, "It appears my brother is quite fond of you."

I rolled my eyes. "Which one?" I asked sarcastically, pointing at Yonji, who was still hovering nearby. "Because this guy over here seems to be rather fond of me too."

Reiju laughed again, this time a bit more warmly. "No, no, not Yonji. I’m talking about Ichiji. He hasn’t stopped talking about you since the moment he decided he wanted to marry you."

I crossed my arms, feeling defiant. "Yeah, well, the feeling isn’t mutual. I’m not interested in marriage—any marriage, for that matter," I said firmly.

Reiju’s smile didn’t falter. "The terms are already set, Princess. You will marry Ichiji."

I blinked, my mind racing. "What does he even want with me?" I asked, frustration creeping into my voice. "Out of all the women in the world, why me?"

Reiju’s eyes softened. "He never said. All he did was tell our father to arrange the marriage. And since Sanji’s wedding was already set, yours was arranged on the spot."

"Is that why my wanted poster suddenly says ‘Vinsmoke’?" I asked, the realization hitting me like a ton of bricks.

"Yes," she nodded, confirming my suspicions. "He wanted to ensure no one else would try to claim you. He's... quite a jealous man."

"Great," I muttered, my stomach churning. "And what about the ‘only alive’ part?" I pressed, interrogating her further.

Reiju tilted her head slightly. "He added that because, after watching you fight, he knew he wanted you by his side... alive."

I froze. "Wait... what do you mean, watched me fight? The only time my fight was broadcast was—"

The realization hit me hard, and I took a step back, my eyes widening. "No... It couldn’t be."

Reiju’s calm gaze held mine, and I could tell she wasn’t lying. Ichiji had been watching me, possibly for longer than I realized.

"Now if you don’t mind, I’ll be taking that from him," she said, making her way toward Luffy.

"Taking what?" Nami asked, confused.

Reiju knelt down in front of Luffy. "I’m going to guess he ate the skin of an Armor Fish from the Poison Sea," she said.

Chopper’s eyes widened. "Yeah, how’d you know?" he asked, bewildered.

"This poison has a rather unique set of components. He’s a glutton for eating it. Not even a giant could survive this," Reiju said matter-of-factly.

Chopper panicked, tears forming in his eyes. "What?! There’s nothing you can do?! I’ve failed! I’m the worst doctor in the world!"

Reiju, however, remained calm. "But this is good. You’re lucky, it’s the best kind of poison. Down the hatch," she said before locking lips with Luffy and beginning to extract the poison.

"Luffy is getting a smoochy!" Brook exclaimed, his voice filled with a mix of surprise and excitement.

"Ahh, that’s so gross," Nami groaned, turning her head away.

"That’s so scandalous," Pekoms said, blushing.

I blinked rapidly, feeling like I was intruding on something personal. "I feel like I’m interrupting something," I muttered, covering my eyes but peeking every few seconds out of curiosity.

Chopper, still panicking, yelled, "Whoa! If you suck out that poison, you’ll die for sure!"

"Oh, I’m so jealous!" Brook wailed dramatically. "If only I could trade places with him, but alas... my lips are long gone! Yohoho!"

As Reiju continued to extract the poison, we all watched in shock as the rashes began to transfer from Luffy’s body to Reiju’s.

"What?!" we all yelled in unison.

Chopper examined Luffy. "There’s no more rash! It’s all gone!" he exclaimed.

Reiju stood up, unphased by the poison she had just absorbed. "I’ve never felt better. After all, I’m ‘Poison Pink,’" she said calmly, giving us all a faint smile.

Luffy finally came to, coughing a bit as he regained consciousness. "Whoa, what happened?!" he asked, looking around.

Carrot and Chopper began crying in relief.

"Wait, did I fall asleep while eating that giant fish? That skin part was really good. Do we have any more?!" Luffy asked, completely oblivious to how close he had come to dying.

Nami and I were both in tears, frustration and relief mixing together. "No!" we yelled in unison.

"You don’t remember? Not even the part where you almost died?!" Nami shouted, her voice rising.

Luffy blinked, then turned to Reiju, mistaking her for Sanji because of her curly eyebrow. "Sanji!" he said, grinning.

Chopper sighed. "That’s a woman, Luffy."

Luffy looked at her again. "Actually... you’re right," he admitted, scratching his head, confused but still Luffy.

“Luffy… she’s the person who just saved your life,” Brook pointed at Reiju with a skeletal finger.

Luffy, with his typical grin, turned to her. "Huh, thanks, lady!" he said, his carefree tone easing the tension for a moment.

I let out a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding. It felt like I was drowning in the weight of everything happening around me. But Luffy’s casualness, as usual, brought a strange comfort.

"I never knew Sanji had a big sister!" Luffy exclaimed, his grin growing wider.

"Yes, that’s right," Reiju nodded. "Sanji is a Vinsmoke like us."

My body tensed again, and Luffy caught it, his sharp eyes flicking to me, but he didn’t say anything. I tried to focus on what Reiju was saying.

"He was separated from us when he was young. Our father’s been searching for him for a while. When Sanji’s wanted poster began circulating two years ago, my father made a call to the government to prioritize catching him. But, well… they ended up catching a man named Duval by mistake,” Reiju said with a slight smirk.

“Sanji was not a fan of that whole mess,” Brook chimed in, causing me to stifle a laugh. The memory of Duval’s ridiculous face and the chaos that followed flashed in my mind. Even in the middle of all this madness, the absurdity of that situation was hard to forget.

“When your crew made a surprise comeback, the World Government shared the news with us,” Reiju continued. “My father then replaced Sanji’s wanted poster with ‘Only Alive’ and raised his bounty to make sure he’d come back to us.”

Nami crossed her arms, nodding. "So that’s why we knew something was off with his bounty, but we couldn’t figure out the reason."

Luffy’s focus sharpened. "Okay, so where is Sanji right now?" he asked, the easygoing air disappearing for a moment as concern for his crewmate replaced it.

Reiju sighed. "I can’t say for sure. He could be with Big Mom or with our father. We thought we might catch him along the way, but it seems we were too late."

She turned toward me, her eyes softening, but her words carried a weight I wasn’t ready to deal with. “At least I got to see the woman who’s going to be marrying my other brother,” she said, her gaze lingering on me.

I clenched my fists, every fiber of my being resisting that statement. But Reiju smiled knowingly. "He’ll be thrilled when I tell him you’ve arrived."

The thought of being married off to Ichiji—someone I’d never even met—made my stomach churn. My future, my choices, were being ripped out from under me, and no matter how much I wanted to fight it, the Vinsmoke family wasn’t about to give me a choice.

I shot Reiju a look of defiance. “I’m not marrying him, or anyone for that matter,” I said coldly.

Reiju’s expression didn’t change, as if she expected that response. "We’ll see," she said calmly, almost too calmly.

"But we will see Sanji at the tea party along with Ichiji’s fiancée, that’s the important part," Reiju said, her voice steady as she looked at me. The weight of her words pressed on my chest, reminding me of the looming wedding, the plans that were being made without my consent. I tried to stay calm, but my mind was spinning.

"It won’t be long now," Reiju added, her gaze shifting to Luffy. "And I even got to meet you. You took care of Sanji, Strawhat, for that, I am grateful."

Reiju was about to leave when Luffy shot up from where he sat, fire in his eyes. "Sanji’s sister!" he called out. "Thanks for saving my life for real, but still, we are taking Sanji back and stopping Y/N’s wedding. They’re my crewmates and friends!"

I couldn’t help but feel the strength behind his words. He was standing up for me, for Sanji, for all of us. Luffy’s loyalty, that unshakable determination, reminded me that I wasn’t alone in this. No matter how daunting things seemed, we would fight this together.

Reiju turned back around, her eyes scanning us—each one of us standing with defiance on our faces. We were ready to fight for what mattered most.

"I won’t give up on them," Luffy declared with conviction, his voice like a solid anchor pulling us all together.

Before I could dwell on those feelings, Yonji’s loud voice cut through the tension. "Hey, you! You’re Pekoms from the Big Mom Pirates. Just what the hell are you doing hanging out with the Strawhats?"

Pekoms stood firm, his expression unyielding. "I have my reasons, and that’s all I gotta say. Things might be different after these wedding ceremonies, but for now, you’re just some random guy."

Reiju glanced at him and nodded. "Can’t argue with that," she said, then leaped into the air, landing gracefully beside Yonji. We watched, a mix of apprehension and curiosity swirling among us.

"Raise the anchor! Let’s move!" Yonji commanded, his voice booming. He turned his gaze from his subordinates back to me, and for a heartbeat, our eyes locked. I couldn’t help but feel a flutter of discomfort under his intense stare, like he was weighing something in his mind.

As Reiju and Yonji headed off in another direction, I felt a rush of determination. We couldn’t let them dictate our fate.

"Okay, we better get moving," Nami said, breaking the tension. As we began to set sail, I sank into my thoughts, finally sitting down and closing my eyes for a moment.

Chopper began to examine Luffy, who was looking worse for wear, and the relentless ringing of the transponder snail filled the air.

"Geez, shut up!" Luffy and I exclaimed in unison, irritation bubbling up. It felt good to share the moment of frustration, a reminder that we were still on the same side.

"It’s a warning signal; it won’t stop even if you pick it up," Pekoms explained, his tone calm and collected.

"Well, that’s annoying," I huffed, crossing my arms.

"Poison made me hungry," Luffy grumbled, the usual sparkle in his eyes dimmed but not extinguished.

"We are still short on food supplies," Nami reminded us, her expression serious.

Pekoms continued, "You’re on one of Mama’s 34 islands. Whole Cake is in the center, and each island has a minister that runs the show. It’s Totoland."

Pedro piped up then. "Another ship is heading toward us."

"If they find you, it’ll be a whole pain in the ass," Pekoms warned, urgency in his voice. Without hesitation, we all dashed back to our hiding spot, adrenaline coursing through my veins.

Once we docked, we stayed hidden until Pekoms finally gave us the signal that it was safe.

"Where are Luffy and Chopper?" Pedro asked, scanning the area with concern.

I couldn’t help but smile at the situation. "We should have expected this, except I’m not with them this time," I said, a playful glint in my eyes.

"They bought my cover story, but we better not stay long," Pekoms urged us, urgency lacing his voice. "So do what you gotta do, then scram! We are in a rush anyway."

He handed out disguises, and as I slipped mine on, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and apprehension.

Nami and Carrot stepped out first. Nami looked stunning in a white and red overall short dress, the pink bow at her waist adding a touch of charm. Carrot twirled into view in a playful green short dress that suited her lively spirit perfectly.

And then it was my turn. I stepped out, and my heart sank as I caught a glimpse of myself in the reflection. I was wearing a white short dress with sleeves that fell off my shoulders, and the sweetheart neckline accentuated my chest. Rhinestones adorned the neckline, glistening in the light, while the ties at the back created the illusion of an hourglass figure. The bottom flared out gracefully, and my silver heels clicked softly against the floor. My hair was half up, half down, with a few strands framing my face.

Overall, I looked like I was heading to a wedding reception.

"Now why the hell am I wearing a white dress?!" I exclaimed, a mix of disbelief and frustration flooding my voice. The last thing I needed was to draw more attention to myself, especially dressed like this.

Nami chuckled, clearly amused by my predicament. "You look great! Just go with it," she said, trying to lighten the mood.

"Easy for you to say!" I shot back, though I couldn’t help but smirk.

"You look gorgeous, Y/N!" Carrot said, her eyes lighting up as she took in my ensemble.

"Thank you, Carrot," I replied, smiling at her enthusiasm, even though I felt a bit out of place. The dress was beautiful, but I wasn’t used to wearing something so formal, and the feeling of it clinging to me was a constant reminder of the situation we were in.

Suddenly, a loud voice echoed from behind. "There’s our young bride!" Brook called out, his usual cheerfulness somehow both amusing and alarming.

"Brook, what are you...?" I started to ask, but he didn’t let me finish.

"Ohh, I knew this day would come!" he exclaimed, looking as though he was about to break into a song at any moment.

"Brook, I’m not—" I protested, trying to cut through his joyful delusions.

"I told you, you’d make a blushing bride!" he continued, tears flowing from his eye sockets, each drop a testament to his excitement and unwavering optimism.

"Brook, I’m not getting married!" I insisted, my voice rising in exasperation. I could feel my cheeks heat up, and I desperately wanted to hide.

"Could have fooled me! You still look fantastic, yohooo!" he replied, spinning around as if to emphasize my supposed wedding attire.

I shook my head, laughing despite my embarrassment. "Thanks, I guess?" I said, trying to take it all in stride. The situation was bizarre, yet Brook's antics somehow made it easier to breathe amidst the chaos we were facing.

Pekoms then coughed, bringing us all back to reality. "It’s going to take a whole day to get to Whole Cake Island, so be sure to get all you need, especially food."

"Oki dokie!" Carrot yelled, her enthusiasm infectious as she bounced on her heels.

I went to grab my sword, trying to figure out how I could carry it along with my thigh halter and blades. "Hey, Nami, do you have a bag big enough to hold my essentials?" I asked, hoping she had something suitable.

She nodded and made her way to find it. When she returned, she handed me a small but discreet bag. I placed the thigh halter and blades inside, then focused on my sword. "Hmm, what if I pressed..." I mused, pressing all three buttons on the hilt. To my surprise, the sword began to shrink. "Whoa! I didn’t know it could do that!" I exclaimed, marveling at the magical functionality as I placed it into the bag.

I also took off Zoro’s bandana, placing it inside the bag as well.

"How did you fit that giant sword in there?!" Nami asked, her eyes wide with disbelief.

"I know that moving the hilt to the right creates a shield, but I didn’t know pressing all three gems would make it shrink. King really thought of everything," I said, smiling as I grabbed the strap and placed it over my shoulder.

Carrot was watching everyone in the town, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "It’s a land where every race can live without discrimination," Pekoms explained, his tone proud.

He went on to tell us the rules about eating chocolate since you could eat anything in Chocolat town. Suddenly, Brook piped up, "So… are the panties made of chocolate as well?"

"Of course they are!" Pekoms replied, barely able to contain his laughter.

Brook began to fantasize, his eyes glazing over with ridiculous thoughts until Nami sent a punch right to his head. "Just get the food and go!" Pekoms ordered, shaking his head.

"Alright, we’re ready!" I said, feeling the adrenaline start to pump through my veins.

"Oh my! Somebody ate the whole café!" yelled a voice from afar.

"There they are!" Nami exclaimed, pointing in the direction where Luffy’s unmistakable energy was.

We began to run toward Luffy, and I could hear Carrot urging, "Come on, guys, we gotta go faster!"

"We are trying too!" we all shouted in unison, pushing ourselves to keep up with the energy of the moment.

We caught up to Pedro and Brook, but we halted when we saw something unusual coming down from above.

"What the heck?" Nami exclaimed, eyes wide.

"Is that a carpet singing?" I said, squinting up at the bizarre sight.

"Not the owner of the café," Brook added, his curiosity piqued. We watched as the café owner covered for both Luffy and Chopper.

"What did she save them for?" Carrot wondered aloud.

"Maybe she’s just really nice," Nami suggested, though I felt a nagging hesitation about Luffy and Chopper’s savior.

"No one's that nice," I said, crossing my arms, my instincts warning me.

"We sure got lucky," Pedro chimed in, lighting his cigarette with a spark of electricity from his fingers.

"You gotta teach me that trick, Pedro," I said in awe.

He chuckled, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "You got it."

"Captain Pedro?!" yelled someone from behind us. We all turned, surprised.

"It really is you! What a surprise! It’s been a while," the familiar voice exclaimed.

Pedro quickly shushed the mink. "I'm sightseeing; don’t tell anyone," he said as we moved forward.

"Is something wrong, Pedro?" I asked, noticing a hint of tension as we made our way toward Luffy, Chopper, and the café owner's chocolate building.

We all sat down at a table while Luffy and Chopper continued to eat the walls, the sight both hilarious and alarming. As I settled into my chair, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off about the café owner.

"Can you cool it for a second?" Nami said, her brows furrowed as she eyed Luffy and Chopper. "You were stuffed a second ago; where’d all that food go?"

"You gotta try this, Y/N! I know you're going to love it!" Luffy exclaimed, handing me a piece of chocolate. He passed one to Brook and Nami as well.

I looked at the piece and politely declined. "Sorry, Luffy, I’m not a sweets kind of person, but I’m sure it’s really delicious."

"Oh well, more for me!" he shrugged, diving back into the feast.

Brook and Nami took bites of theirs and simultaneously shouted, "It's so good!"

Time passed, and Luffy turned to Pudding, the café owner. "Thanks for saving me back there!"

"Oh no, don’t thank me; I should be the one thanking you," she replied in a sweet voice that made my skin crawl.

"This girl is acting," I thought, crossing my arms defensively.

"How is this woman real? She’s too sweet!" Brook exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with admiration.

"I don’t mean to be rude, but we need to get going," Nami interjected, trying to steer the conversation.

Pudding then offered us tea, but I decided to stand and take a walk around.

"Where are you going?" Nami asked, her tone concerned.

I turned to her, smiling reassuringly. "Don't worry, I'll be right back," I said as I headed out the door.

Once outside, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. "I just know this ‘Pudding’ isn’t being truthful," I murmured to myself. "She’s hiding something, and I’m going to find out."

I took in the sights around me—the whole city was made of chocolate. "Best be careful; don’t want to dirty my outfit," I thought, holding the straps of my bag tightly, which contained my blades and sword, ensuring they stayed secure as I navigated through the sweet chaos of the city.

To my right, I noticed a jewelry store and chuckled, shaking my head. "Chocolate jewels? Now this I gotta see." I made my way inside, intrigued by the assortment on display.

"Now isn’t this creative," I thought, admiring the craftsmanship. My eyes landed on the rings, sparkling under the shop lights.

"Find something of interest?" the shop owner asked, his voice eager.

"At the moment, I'm just looking, but I will definitely let you know if I find something," I replied, about to walk away when he called me back.

"Miss! Would you please come for a moment? I must show you something!" he insisted, guiding me back to the rings.

"This ring is one of our finest collections—the rarest of rare," the owner proclaimed, presenting a stunning gold band adorned with diamonds and a captivating red ruby at its center.

"My, it's quite pretty," I said, genuinely impressed.

"Yes, it is... Would you like to try it on?" the owner offered, a gleam of excitement in his eyes.

I laughed, shaking my head. "As long as it’s not made of chocolate, I'll try it."

He slipped the ring onto my ring finger. "A perfect fit!" he declared, clasping his hands together in delight.

"So it appears," I muttered, returning the ring back. "Thank you for your time, but I must be on my way."

The owner tried to stop me once more, but I was already out the door, eager to continue my exploration.

As I strolled through the streets, taking in everything around me, I suddenly lost my footing. Just as I was about to trip into a chocolate fountain, a strong arm pulled me back, spinning me around until I landed against a hard chest.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concern etched across his face.

"Yes, I’m fine... thank y..." I started, taking in his features. He wore a white long-sleeve dress shirt, the fabric a sleek v-neck that revealed a hint of his chest, paired with dress pants. His vibrant red hair caught the light, and his glasses had a red tint that matched perfectly.

"Wow, this guy must really like red," I thought, taking a step back to create some distance.

"You gotta be careful; a pretty girl like you would have been drenched in chocolate," he said, his compliment making me smile and blush slightly.

"You're right; we wouldn’t want that now, would we?" I replied, laughing. The man chuckled as well.

"Well, I gotta get back to the café. Thank you for saving me," I said just as I was about to turn when he grabbed my wrist, halting me.

"Wait?!" he said, his grip rather strong. "Why don’t I walk you to the café? That way you don’t trip on any more chocolate," he suggested, chuckling.

I pulled my wrist back and replied, "If you want." We continued to stroll through Chocolat town in comfortable silence. I noticed some of the shopkeepers trembling in fear, which made me wonder why.

"Is everything alright?" he asked, and I turned to look at him, noticing more of his features—his nose was delicate, his chin chiseled, and his arms looked buff without making his dress shirt tight.

I nodded with a smile. "Everything is just fine," I assured him, feeling a small blush creep onto my cheeks. I noticed that he also blushed slightly, the color deepening in his cheeks as he glanced away for a moment.

"Well, this is it," I said as we approached the café. "Oh, I forgot one thing!" I exclaimed, making my way down the steps. I turned back to him and said, "Thank you for walking with me," as I placed a gentle peck on his cheek.

As I made my way back inside, I didn’t hear him say softly, "No problem, fiancee"

[a-may-w]

My Thoughts On MHA Ending and Bakudeku

*MHA SPOILERS AHEAD*

This post is mainly gonna be me rambling but I wanted to get it out of my head before it consumes me whole. I cannot believe the ending we got. For multiple reasons. Deku being a teacher, Shigarki never being redeemed, but, most shockingly of all to me, the near complete victory Bakudeku shippers got---let me explain. For YEARS the main argument against Bakudeku was that Uraka/Deku was endgame and that, despite how much people shipped Bakudeku, it would NEVER be real. But then. But then, Hirokoshi didn't make Uraka/Deku cannon. Correct me if I'm wrong (please actually do if I am I kinda speed-read the last chapters in a haze) but Uraka and Deku were never confirmed to be dating. They were never confirmed to have dated. They were never confirmed to even have expressed feelings to each other and they sure as hell were never confirmed to have kissed---looking back on it, I don't know if ANYBODY kissed in the MHA manga, but, thats besides the point---Deku and Uraka were never confirmed to have been romantically involved. Which, just, blew my mind when I read that. Not because I was a super huge Uraka/Deku shipper but because I thought it was destined. Deku is the main male character, Uraka the main female one, and with hints at their relationship from the start that's just how super popular, mainstream stories go. Just like Aang and Katara from ATLA, but NOPE. Even more, he made Toga/Uraka cannon?!?! I'll be honest when I first saw Hirokoshi hinting at them being sexual towards one another I thought it was just fanservice and him being a creepy dude sexualizing lesbians (which I mean...he is doing) but their is WAY too much plot relevance and WAY too much actual romance for it to not be considered a real relationship. Both of them had unrequited feelings for Deku that they bonded over and formed an intense, but ultimately kinda beautiful relationship about. Hell, the last time Uraka and Deku interact in the manga it's just Deku comforting her about Toga dying. And yeah, you can argue their relationship grew with Uraka making that speech at UA and both of them being similar in their ultimate pursuit to save people, but, I feel like Toga/Uraka really throws a wrench in the whole possibility of their relationship. To me Uraka loving Toga felt like she was her moving on from Deku. So, already Bakudeku shippers have gained a major victory with the ambiguity of Uraka/Deku, but now it times to talk about the relationship of Bakudeku itself. Listen. I'm not really Bakudeku shipper. I never really read the manga for ANY ships, I was mainly just interested in the OFA/AFO lore. But. I have fucking eyes. And holy shit do they see a lot. You know the meme where its like "If you've been rivals for more than seven years you're no longer rivals, you're just gay?" Yeah. Yeah. Bakugo's redemption arc, him nearly dying several times to save Deku, him calling Deku "Izuku", him calling himself "Kacchan", Bakugo CONSTANTLY talking about "catching up to" Izuku, thinking about him and Dekus shared love for All Might while he dies, and, most damning of all I think, him crying because Deku lost his quirk and they "Can't be rivals forever/a while anymore" and then laughing with him bittersweetly. Like, holy shit. And then, the epilogue (which, I do have issues with the epilogue but that's besides the point) he mainly funded a, most likely very expensive super-suit, so Deku could be a hero again and they could continue being rivals. Like...????? Jesus christ dude. Like I don't know maybe I have gay glasses glued to my eyes but I don't know how else to read this. But, the argument I'm trying to make isn't that Bakudeku is cannon, or that their soulmates, my argument is that Bakudeku shippers have essentially won. Bakugo and Deku being friends and eternal rivals with neither of them having any canonical female love interests to Bakudeku shippers, who were shipping these two when they really shouldn't have, is victory. The ending of MHA is essentially victory for Bakudeku shippers. And that is WAY closer than I EVER thought Bakudeku shippers would get.

[jq37]

truly the only person who Gets my paladin aelwyn vision. also i am sooo ;-; about your post on her moving back to mordred.... baby girl u r so loved.......

sorry for the late reply I've been traveling for the past month basically

yesssssssssssssssss this is like my favorite topic.

Abjuration is like, the most paladin-adjacent school of wizardry there is! In this season, we even see her taking a piece of magic that in-universe is basically only used by bad guys and turning it into loving protection. We got so much Aelwyn content this season and I am so so grateful for it but if all we'd gotten was that it would have emotionally wrecked me in and of itself.

Considering being a paladin mainly is about devotion, not necessarily following a specific god, I can so see her becoming a paladin initially by accident as well. Like, just being so frustrated with her lack of heals as a wizard in a situation and so-so-so wanting to do something about it and then suddenly, boom healing. Everyone's like, whoa was that some kind of weird, wizard healing? Nope, Lay on Hands. Welcome to multiclassing by the power of just giving too much of a damn.

And haha, the Mordred post is prob my fave FH post I've made this season and the kicker is that it was only supposed to be a couple of sentences long tops. But as I wrote it it turned into this whole exploration of her arc this season because I am obsessed with it. She was just playing out an entirely different story adjacent to the main story and there's such clear growth not just between seasons but across this season. She starts with the season with an aloof "enjoy the nemesis ward" and ends with an open declaration of affection and deep love in public with ice cream all over her face. Like what a 180. Like, the love was always there--from the start it was always there--but the way it's expressed is so different. You really get the sense that, of the two, Adaine is actually the more aggro sibling by nature and Aelwyn's aggro-ness is more nurture than nature because, besides the fact that a lot of what she was doing was a shield to keep n her parents' good side, she doesn't even fight back against Adaine's teasing very much--she mainly takes it good naturedly (submitting to Tasha's for instance).

At this point I'm just rambling but yeah I am an inaugural member of the Aelwyn Abernnat fan club and I'm so happy that Siobhan decided to pull Aelwyn in so much this season, even if it wasn't plot critical.

[mychlapci]

Episode 6 - Masters & Students

Looking at TFP Starscream is so funny to me because he’s got those big fuck off eyebrows that look literally glued onto his face. I like to think they’re attached via magnetics because that’s the only explanation I have for how silly they look. 

OH BOY I SURE DO LOVE THE FACT THAT THE VEHICONS ARE SHOWN TO BE CAPABLE OF TALKING, ASKING QUESTIONS, AND GENERALLY SHOWING SIGNS OF SENTIENCE. IT SURE DOES FEEL GREAT KNOWING THAT THE AUTOBOTS ARE GOING TO BE KILLING AND RIPPING THEM TO PIECES ON THE REGULAR WHILE SPOUTING OFF ABOUT HOW THEY’RE THE GOOD GUYS. [Obviously these are implications drawn from the fact that the show runners probably weren’t thinking about the vehicons as anything more than canon fodder. But ough, I do not like those implications.]

Also it’s really funny that the show wants me to believe that Starscream is a worse leader when he successfully lead the Decepticons for three years without the Autobots realising that he had several mining operations on Earth. Starscream should’ve been leader for the rest of the series, send tweet. 

That being said, I would like to shove him into a trash compactor. 

God I want to kiss however the hell rigged Starscream’s face, he’s so damn expressive. 

Ratchet is like ‘Babe 🥺aren’t you happy that your former friend is finally dead’ while Optimus is fucking sulking. 

Wwwhuat. I hope Ratchet’s voice actor got paid well. 

“You’re a human Jack, can you build me a small intestine.” Arcee is allowed to be funny, as a treat. 

I love how you can see Bulkhead raising his finger to argue with Ratchet before he puts his hand down and shakes his head in defeat. 

GOD SOUNDWAVE LOOKS SO FUCKING SILLY WITH THAT LITTLE ANTENNAE THING STICKING OUT OF HIS BACK. 

Okay I’m back on my tfp Soundwave hating arc. This time I think I’ve pinpointed why I don’t really enjoy him [design not withstanding] it’s because he has no body language to even remotely influence his personality. He is literally standing there in 99% of his scenes. There’s no movement from him, no indication of what he’s thinking, feeling, or wanting to do. Starscream literally says “What do you mean you can’t pinpoint his signal?!” Which implies that Soundwave is actively communicating with him. But if you look at his model he’s just standing there. There’s no movement of his tentacles, hell his screen doesn’t even flash red to indicate that he hasn’t found Skyquake’s signal. I think with a few bits of body language acting, Soundwave could’ve been a really interesting character. I don’t need him to talk verbally, fuck I don’t even want him to have a noise indicating he’s talking like Bumblebee, I just want him to express literally anything. 

Fuck Optimus is so goddamn big. 

“Unfortunately Megatron’s legacy will live on as others rise to take his place.” You can just say it’s Starscream Optimus, there’s literally nobody else. We see nobody else trying to be leader, it’s just Starscream. [Actually that would’ve been an interesting plot point or story.]

RHRUGH Grandpa Ratchet wants nothing to do with the battlefield, he’s helping them with their science homework. 

AAAAH I DON’T LIKE SOUNDWAVE’S SPINDLY FUCKING FINGERS. PUT THOSE THANGS AWAY MAN

Lord Skyquake is a crusty old man. Yeah I see why Maggot likes him so much. His colour palette is actually really nice, besides Knockout, we don’t see many Decepticons with colours ranging outside of blue, purple, or grey. It’s a good decision to make him so differently coloured from the rest of the cons. Also I think it’s interesting that Optimus says that he hasn’t obtained an altmode yet but we clearly see him with cockpit and wing kibble. Obviously the logical explanation is that the animators really didn’t need an entirely separate model with just the cockpit and wings removed but it is very funny to think about. Also lord he is large. 

Starscream’s inability to gauge which people he should order around continues to astound me. I love him for that. Get fucked you stupid pigeon. 

LMFAO THE WAY HE JUST RUNS ARMS OUTSTRETCHED TOWARDS OPTIMUS. IS HE STUPID?!

I said it in DMS, but I’ll say it here. The real tragedy of knowing that Skyquake is going to get canned is the fact that he has a really interesting and unique colour palette and weapon [machine gun] that distinguishes him from the other cons and they just kill him. What a waste. 

God they have to let Ratchet be in charge, he’s been so cooped up. 

“Soundwave, why aren’t you tracking them?” Maybe he is, though I can’t blame him for not knowing considering Soundwave is just standing there, a-posing. 

Starscream is so dramatic. 

SEE THIS IS WHAT I’M FUCKING TALKING ABOUT. Soundwave repeats Starscream’s voiceline and then releases Laserbeak, that’s a genuine little bit of character driven story telling that Soundwave doesn’t actually trust Starscream. :[ Why couldn’t we get more of that.

They should let Optimus run more people over in his altmode. It’s funny. 

OLD MAN DOWN

The laser eye beams is so funny. Like obviously they have to make sure you know he’s scanning an altmode but it’s so fucking funny. 

Starscream should’ve taken Megatron’s body and then- [The rest of this post has been removed for violating Tumblr’s terms and conditions.]

RIP Skyquake, your colour palette and cool gun were of too much interest for TFP, you had to die. 

Episode 7 - Scrapheap

Slight nitpick that doesn’t matter but oh that opening dialogue from Ratchet is so expositiony. Like yes Bulkhead, who has been alive for several million years, you do not know that exposure to lower temperatures can fuck up your systems. This literally doesn’t matter but I think it’s funny. Obviously it sounds good because it’s Ratchet saying it. 

Ah the bugs. Scraplets are a fun concept I think. Tiny metal eating critters that can terrify even the biggest Cybertronians. 

Ratchet is the biggest hater and I love him for that. He continues to be the best. 

Awwww Optimus saying he’ll bring Raf back a snowball is very cute. 

As someone who lives in the ye old midwest where we regularly get temperatures in the freezing during half of the year, the kids being really excited about the snow always seemed silly to me. Like, it’s just snow lmfao. But I do get it. Though the idea that Raf just spacebridging himself to the arctic circle for a few minutes is something I’ve thought about. Honestly I think we should’ve got more things involving the ability to transport oneself to anywhere in the world. Like Miko going home for a few days. 

The scraplets are just little guys. Small fucking beast. 

Bulkhead’s actor is so fucking good in this episode. 

Also the heat maps that the scraplets see in confuse me sooo much. You’ve got most of the cybertronians heat being centred around their shoulders, legs, and feet. Ratchet’s chassis is almost entirely blue while his upper thigh is red which makes no sense because his engine should be putting out some kind of heat right? Bulkhead’s chin is green while the top of his helm is red and the inside of Bumblebee’s thigh is blue while the top is red. What the fuck is going on with them?

Bulkhead’s war trauma of watching a scraplet eat someone he knows should’ve been touched upon more. 

“Typically I find your fleshiness to be your least engaging quality.” This just in, Ratchet does not find flesh attractive, robofuckers move on, grandpa does not want you. 

Once again Bulkhead’s VA does a fantastic job!

They’re eating him alive. Tragic and terrible day for Grandpa. 

It’s still so fucking funny that they picked the b-plot to be Optimus and Arcee freezing to death. Like it provides for some really sweet moments, particularly when Optimus goes to hold Arcee’s hand but it’s still really funny. Like yeah Ratchet, Bumblebee, and Bulkhead are all getting eaten alive and meanwhile Optimus fucking Prime is freezing his tits off. 

OUGH SORRY TO EVERYONE WHO WAS EXPECTING THESE!!! my cat died and i had so much school work and my life has been a mess. but yeahg, have some tfp reviews :] also maggot you are following my main if you ever wanna yap about skyquake to me! if you say yes i'll come off anon and dm you via tumblr.

-burnt ice anon

oh god, sorry for your cat, and good luck with school! it's okay, now we're here and it's time to talk about tfp.

to be honest, you're the first and only tfp Soundwave hated i've ever met (or seen) and even though i have no beef with tfp Soundwave you have actually have a very refreshing point of view. i mean, i always thought that him just standing there is just what he does but now that i think about it i'm like YEAH he should've been a bit more expressive. like, when he uses snippets of Starscream's voice, or that scene where they want to pull the plug on Megs and he just bluntly points to the screen tracing his brain waves, i think since he's a silent character, more stiff and creepy movements would have done him some justice.

once again, happy that Skyquake has been received in a positive way. The way he runs out at Optimus with his arms out flailing is so funny. No thought, he's just fucking mad. And you know, I never realized, but it's kind of odd they don't have any alt-modes until they scan an earth vehicle. like, why wouldn't they? maybe they had to deactivate their tcog for the stasis? i guess that's some scifi bullshit that could explain it.

Also if you wish to discuss Starscream doing anything at all to Megatron's corpse, anything at all, i have some thoughts. i've got thoughts. and a fanfic link i discovered recently.

anyways, the heat maps in the scraplet episode are So funny to me now that you pointed it out. they make no sense at all. it's a really funny episode overall. despite the fact that it's about bots getting eaten alive.

[neopoliitan]

TEAM RAIN: ARC 4 CH6 - THE PATH LESS TRAVELED

A WRITE UP FOR THE REST OF TEAM RAIN: CHAPTER 6

We return to Zenith. Zelena Braith is still questioning Viorel Braith on what Kamala Braith’s final plans are. We are not told what Zelena was asking about as we open on her asking for a firm confirmation, which Viorel gives.

Zelena rests her head in her hand as she processes this. She says she wants justice as much as the next person, but is unclear what Kamala aims to achieve with her plans. Viorel cuts her off and says they have spent fourteen years trying to render “the machine” operational, and that Zelena should not make the mistake of wasting their time.

Zelena affirms that she appreciates Viorel’s work, and claims that Akane’s semblance has got inside her head. Viorel states that “fools will do as fools will do.”

They’re interrupted by Viola Braith, who skips into Zenith victorious after her “beta test” in Avon. She states global rollout will go off without a hitch. Viorel says there was no doubt it would work as they did the hard work, but are cut off by Sterling Braith, who enters the room and brings up Viorel’s failed plan to recruit the Crazy Bunch. Having not seen Sterling since the start of Arc 3, Viola expresses exaggerated shock at his haggard appearance.

Sterling confronts Viorel and says his new arms aren’t “good enough” and they need to “do better.” Viorel retorts he’ll have to wait till Tahlia and Gardner get home, as the former is the engineer/mechanic of the family - besides, Sterling “is lucky to get anything after such a pitiful display” at Unsei Ridge, and they did a “miraculous job” given the short timeframe they had to work with.

Sterling grabs Viorel by the chest and lifts them off the floor, stating they’ll find out how “miraculous” a job they did when he uses his new arms to break every bone in their body. Zelena looks worried, then glances at Viola, who is clearly getting a kick out of the drama.

There’s a decent-length fight scene between Otso Umber and Raleigh Radcliff. During the fight, Otso lands a direct hit on Raleigh whose aura flares and causes Otso to reel back in pain. 

Raleigh’s semblance is named “Return to Sender.” As the cost of aura, Raleigh will not take damage from enemy attacks - and instead deflect it back onto the enemy as they hit him. The more he focuses, the less damage he will take and the more his attacker will endure.

Raleigh mocks Otso for not recalling his semblance despite their forty-year feud. 

Raleigh: “Doesn’t matter how hard you hit me - you’re the one who feels it.”

Otso: “I’ll take it if it means killing you! You ruined my life!”

Raleigh: “You’re doing a damn good job of that yourself!”

Otso: “Just admit it! You stole everything from me!”

Raleigh swings at Otso and clips his cheek with his hatchet. Otso spins with the momentum, then turns and catches Raleigh off guard, knocking him to the ground with a right hook. Otso swings down with his greatsword, but Raleigh blocks it with his ax and sweeps Otso aside.

Raleigh: “You want the truth? FINE!”

Raleigh: “You would’ve lost us that tournament! You didn’t stack up! I was the only one who did anything about it!”

Raleigh: “I cracked your damn head open so that I could take your place. You would’ve lost anyway.”

Otso is stunned by this revelation, so much so that Raleigh closes the gap and swings his hatchet at him. Otso parries, then uses the opening to drive his greatsword through Raleigh’s gut. Impaled, Raleigh’s knees buckle.

Otso pushes forward, leaning in and forcing his sword out through Raleigh’s back. As the space between them closes with Otso’s push, he yells that they were like brothers once.

Raleigh raises his hatchet. He affirms “we were” and swings at Otso’s exposed neck. In delirium thanks to their shared mortal wounds, the two exchange glances and chuckle, almost seeing their 18-year-old selves again. Then Raleigh swings again and Otso falls.

Raleigh pulls Otso’s sword from his gut, fully aware the wound is fatal, and casts it aside before dragging himself to lean up against his ship. He winces in pain, closes his eyes, then tilts his head to the sky.

After a moment, he hears footsteps.

Gardner Braith enters the clearing. He ponders Otso’s corpse and weapon for a moment, before being distracted as Tahlia Braith calls to him. She warns him that Team RAIN is here and they need to leave. Recognising their task is complete, Gardner picks up Otso’s bloodied sword as proof of his death and the duo hop into the truck they used to get to Faraday.

Team RAIN pursues Tahlia into the clearing to see the truck pulling out. Wil marches forward, saying all he needs is a truck to close the gap - Irving adds that the tyre tracks will basically draw a map to Zenith.

Akane and Robin spot Raleigh and kneel at his side. Robin says they need to get him help, but he tells them not to waste the effort on a dead man. 

Raleigh pulls a photo out of his vest pocket and hands it to Akane, telling her he has a son, Cordovan. He adds he has a daughter, Rosie, by a different mother. He asks her to find them and tell them he’s sorry, and that he’s proud of them. Akane protests that he can tell them himself, but he scoffs that it’ll mean more coming from her - they’ll know she’s telling the truth.

Raleigh slumps. Robin stands up and places her hands behind her head as she takes it in as Akane studies the photo.

The roar of an engine brings them back to the present - Wil announces he’s found a truck that works. Everyone piles in as Akane pockets the photo for later. 

Wil: “Where’s Radcliff?”

Akane: “He didn’t make it.”

Wil: “How well d’you know him?”

Akane: “Barely.”

Wil: “Then we can worry about it later.”

The truck pulls out, in pursuit of the Braiths.

–

Things get much more nebulous from here, as very few scenes are fully scripted (all of the next chapter was written pretty early, though.)

The following would have been a vehicle fight between Gardner/Tahlia’s truck and Team RAIN/PALM’s truck, involving a lot of bumper bashing and side-swiping. 

By the end of the vehicular battle, Tahlia would have climbed out of the sun-roof of the Braith truck, ran along the roof to the back of the vehicle and jumped off, landing in front of the Team RAIN truck. Using her Repulsion Semblance, she would repel the truck off the road and down a bank where it would be trashed.

Tahlia stands at the top of the hill, looking down at the wreck with slight remorse. Gardner pulls up next to her and climbs out of their truck, brandishing his weapon and telling her to get in the truck as she doesn’t need to witness what comes next.

Gardner proceeds to march downhill as Tahlia stares blankly at the horizon. After a moment, she notices something and squints - a blurry figure appears in the distance. She calls out to Gardner, telling him that someone is coming.

Gardner spots the figure too. His eyes widen and he turns, gently pulling Tahlia towards the truck. 

Gardner: “We need to go.”

Tahlia: “But what about–”

Gardner: “Just get in the truck.”

Gardner looks over his shoulder at the stranger.

Tahlia: “Who are they?”

Gardner: “Don’t worry about it.”

The Stranger watches the two Braiths peel away from the scene of the crash as they approach the wreckage. Irving pulls himself out, groaning as his aura flickers. The Stranger’s boot lands in front of him as he looks up worriedly, but he is relieved as the stranger offers a hand to help him up. We see their face is obscured with a hood, with a neckerchief and goggles covering their eyes and mouth.

Stranger: “Here. Let me help.”

–

Hours after the crash, Robin wakes up in a cave, a blanket covering her. She reaches for her sword, but its scabbard is empty. After a brief scan she sees her sword lying against the cave wall, and quietly picks it up. 

She rounds a corner nervously, where we see an obscured close up of the Stranger warming their hands at a small fire, their back to her. Robin slowly creeps up with her weapon, but the Stranger interrupts without turning - telling her that if they wanted any harm to come to her, she’d be dead already.

Robin asks where her friends are, and the Stranger tells her they’re resting - as she should be. Ignoring this, Robin presses further, asking why and how a random stranger would come to rescue them in the wilderness.

The stranger ponders for a moment as they stand up, playing with their fingers. They tell her they’ve been watching the Braiths for a while now. Robin asks why - who are they?

We see over the Stranger’s shoulder as he turns around to face Robin, whose eyes widen.

It’s a man in his fifties, with untidy grey hair that was once black. His eyes are a piercing white - both sclera and iris - ringed with dark circles of age and sleeplessness. He has a streaked, unkept beard, but his expression shows an innate kindness.

Stranger: “Oh, you know… just their father.”

[bundoesnotcompete]

I need this to leave my brain. Reader is a Stellaron Hunter and Gender Neutral as possible. Reader is in their bad guy arc. Violence and likely lore inaccuracies. Also probable slight oocness but i do not think so but a warning just in case. See end for author notes. Edited some errors

Elio watched as the Stellaron Hunters left with their scripts for the Zakryn system. It was one of the few places where all hunters would meet in this script. It was also one of the most important scripts for the plan. Halovian wings appeared beside him as the Stellaron Hunter leaned down to look at him.

Elio, in cat form, looked to the hunter. The hunter in front him holding unimaginable power and potential. If all went well, a piece of power would be restored. The hunter tilted their head, Elio knew the question.

"You are to go to the Zakryn system with everyone else. You are to make your own script, with the exception of playing along with the others, as I said before." Elio stated, watching as the hunter's head wings fluttered slightly in response. "All i ask is that you be careful and try not to cause too many problems for the IPC. Once the scripts have been run through for this system, I do not care what you do to them. I already know your answer anyway." The Halovian smiled at the added orders, pleased about what they could do when the script ended. "Go, time will not wait and the Astral Express is already on their way to this system. Go meet the other half." Nodding, the Halovian left the office, only turning back to wave goodbye to Elio.

Yes, Elio thought, with the power Saturday will aquire, they will be one step closer to regaining aeonhood. Soon, the aeon of origin shall return and set all things right.

---------

When you had gotten truck-kuned into one your favorite video games you had not expected to wake up on a dead planet. One you appreantly killed when your spirit was Isekai'd into Honkai Star Rail. Then the IPC showed up, and things only went south from there. They seriously wanted you dead after finding out you had accidently killed the planet. They especially wanted you gone after turning one of them into a Herrscher. Sweet heavens, you didn't know you could throw up so much until the Herrscher had slaughtered everyone before exploding from their own power, your power.

The silence afterwards had nearly driven you insane until you had found a stream nearby that was somewhat clean. The shock of finding out you were Halovian had given you a panic attack. Well, maybe that was you questioning everything you had been through in the eight or so hours after your isekai.

Thankfully after cleaning yourself up, you were able to quickly find the IPC agents' ships. Of course, you couldn't read a damn word of the ships nor understand any of the buttons. After some expermenting, it turned out it wasn't too complicated to drive and after that you spent nearly twelve hours figuring out how to get to a nearby planet.

Once you got to that planet, things did calm down slightly. Well, that was until you had tripped over a cat not even five minutes away from where you had abandoned your borrowed ship. When you had gone to apologize to the cat and see if you had hurt or, your throat closed up, and it seemed you couldn't speak. It took everything in you to shove that panic attack and crisis down.

Then, surprise surprise, that cat turned out to be none other than Elio himself. The leader of the Stellaron Hunters had been shocked, and you had thought it was because of your reaction. Unknown to you at the time, Elio had been shocked for a diffrent reason. He had sense the intense power coming from you and knew what he was seeing.

This hadn't been part of any script, your reincarnation wasn't supposed to happen anytime soon. Elio had quickly composed himself and shifted to a more human form. A discussion was had, and soon, you were off to join the Stellaron Hunters.

At the time, only Blade and Kafka had been apart of the group. Since you were unable to say anything, including your name, Elio gifted you the name Saturday. He noted your similarities to the Halovian sibilings Robin and Sunday and assumed your were their recently pronounced dead sibiling.

Not that you seemed aware of that, of course. It wasn't long until you had quite the bounty. Between your growing hatred for the IPC and your Honkai powers, many considered you highly dangerous. In fact, the IPC downright hated you which was mutual on your part.

Speaking of Honkai powers, you had guessed that you were some sort of manifestation of The Will of Honkai. Of course, you didn't have the absolute insane powers over it. But, you had figured out that if you poured enough of the Honaki energy into someone, they would turn into a sort of makeshift Herrscher. The expiration date for you victim often depended on the victim themselves.

If you felt that they were too dangerous, you could simpily take the energy back early and terminate them early. Oh boy, you had thought when you had first began experimenting with your powers, if you ever meet Welt he was not going to react well to what you were doing.

It hadn't taken long for you to be desensitized to violence and gore. Between getting beat by Blade and Kafka in spars constantly and the experimentation with your powers, you did not have any choice but to be desensitized to it. The first day of your Isekai still haunted you, but even those nightmares began to fade.

Along your journey, you had discovered a new Aeon that hadn't been in lore when you played the game. The Aeons of Origin and Creation. You didn't find much other than theories about how they had been siblings and how they gave their lives to create the universe. Other than theories on their return, not much was found about them. The reminder of sibilings had made you depressed for days afterwards, halovian wings drooping. You missed your friend. You two had been siblings in all but blood.

Those thoughts had been banished within days, Elio distracting you with a script that had been absolute fun to play. So here you were, on your way to the system of Zakryn, ready to cause problems and be a menace to those who deserved it. Maybe you would even help those who couldn't help themselves while you were at it.

----------

Welt watched as the planet Zeven came into view outside the Astral Express's windows. Appreantly, the entire system this planet was in was dealing with intense Stellaron activity and Abundance issues. Himeko had suggested that they land on Zeven since it appeared to be the safest planet. While still dealing with a stellaron and abundance issues, the planet was in a rather stable state compared to the rest. In fact, when the crew had last talk to Jing Yuan, he had said that the Xianzhou Alliance would be helping the planets. With so many planets in the system suffering, the entire Alliance would be arrive in few weeks time at most. While the crew splitting up in two diffrent teams worried Welt slightly, it was nothing compared to his true worry.

This Universe was largely unaffected by the immense amount of Honkai energy that often plagued his own. While there were spots of intense concentration, it was nothing compared to what he was feeling in this system. Was the Honkai energy amplifying the issues in this sytem? He attempted to ignore the ball of dread forming in his stomach.

Looking at the planet of Zeven was only stressing him out more. Taking a deep breath, Welt broke from his thoughts to try and focus on the now. All he could do was be cautious and watch his team, heavens know how much trouble Stelle and March unintentionally get into. The sound of Pom-Pom's voice echoed thoughout the train announcing the arrival to the planet of Honkai and to get ready for landing. Turning away from the window, Welt adjusted his glasses and found a place to wait for March and Stelle to arrive.

Things were going to change for all involved with the system of Zakryn. From simple Citzens to the Stellaron Hunters, this system was the first of many major shifting points in the script and tapestry of fate. The first of the Aeon of Origin's power shard was to return to it's true owner, one way or another.

BEGIN ARC: The World of Nostalgic Greenery

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Notes:

In my Honkai Star Rail phase. Don't worry SAGAU and things of the like will be back. Like all other stories this was pumped out in like an hour or two. I tagged characters who have POVs in this story but not mentioned ones. The planet of Zeven had like 5 diffrent names i think i got the names in sync? Think thats all i got for now. Hope you enjoyed.

End notes

[evilfloralfoolery]

The Great Ginger Retaliation

Just a short thing because I had a burning need to torture Indigo for a minute.

An offer to make Grimm his morning tea goes horribly awry. Grimm's Guardian instincts flip the fuck out. That's it. That's the plot.

_____________________________________

Indigo pads into the kitchen to find his beloved dismantling his crossbow atop the counter, the handle of a small wrench between his teeth as he mumbles a swear at the weapon.  It is not annoyance that rises within him, but amusement.  

Life with Grimm involved such things on a daily basis.

“Would you like some tea with your grumbling?”  Indigo leans against the counter with a bit of a smirk.  “Perhaps some honey to sweeten your disposition?”

Grimm sets the wrench beside the pile of nonsense that was once a crossbow.  “Smartass.”  He runs a hand through his hair and tosses Indigo a crooked smile.  “But yeah, tea sounds pretty damn good.” 

“You enjoyed that ginger and hibiscus, did you not?” Indigo reaches for one of the lighter tins neatly arranged upon the opposite end of the counter.

“Whatever you make, I’ll drink.”

An easy request.  

Indigo attempts to pop the lid free, but ends up prying it open via sheer force, barely managing to keep it from arcing through the kitchen like some sort of lethal frisbee. 

And clearly, disturbing the contents of the container had been a grave mistake.  The peppery spice of ginger assails him, his attempts at fanning it away proving futile. 

Well, tea had been in order, that is until said-tea had seen fit to assault him. Indigo pauses, practically slams the tin closed.

“EKSSSHuh! EKSSH! EKSSCH! EKKSSSHH!!” 

“Bless you,” Grimm says. “Don't think you're supposed to breathe it, Indy.”

“Oh, do shut uuhhh!” Indigo lays a hand on his chest with a desperate, almost gasping inhalation. “Hhhuuhhh. . . !! EKKSSSSCHu!  My gods.”

“Bless you,” Grimm says again with a bit of a chuckle. 

“Thank you,” Indigo says with a pointed sniffle before turning away to give his nose a short, polite blow. “Blasted ginger.” 

He pauses, expression wavering behind the cover of the handkerchief. Gods, really? 

“EKSSSH! EKKSSSCCH!”  He wipes at the corner of one eye and flinches into an uncovered “EKSSSHH!!”  Muffles another into the handkerchief. And another.

“Goddamn,” Grimm says. *You good?” 

He lays a hand on Indigo's shoulder just as he struggles through another sharp gasp that borders on something painful. 

“-ihhhEKSSSSHH–iiUHH!   My gods, do excuse me.” 

His partner blinks. Stares. 

Grimm's flabbergasted and obvious distress is not only amusing, but quite endearing. Indigo does not protest when he is gathered into Grimm's sudden, protective embrace.

“Fuck, Indy. Bless the shit out of you.”

Indigo laughs in a whole-hearted, if not mildly self-conscious manner. “Thank you, Grimm. That was. . . most unexpected.”  He pulls back enough to run the back of his hand along Grimm's cheek. “It was not my intention to alarm yo-iihh. . . !”

Where had he shoved that blasted handkerchief? Far too late to consider it now. 

Indigo pulls the collar of his robe over his face just enough to manage some semblance of decency.  “EKSSCH! EKSSSHuh!” 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Grimm says.

Indigo’s attempts to smother a rather undignified sort of snort-laugh are woefully unsuccessful. “Gods. My apologies, Grimm. It seems as if the ginger has gotten the best of me.” 

Grimm arches an eyebrow. “Ya think?” 

“Perhaps the jasmine green instead.”  Indigo untangles himself enough to reach for the tin beside the offending ginger, only to have Grimm slap a hand atop the thing before he can procure it.

“You know what? I’m good.” 

He slips an arm around Indigo’s waist and sweeps his feet from the ground with the other, hoisting him into a carrying embrace.  

“Ooh!” Indigo grabs the lapels of Grimm’s black robe to steady himself.  “Whatever are you doing?”

“Guardian shit,” Grimm says. 

“Removing me from the threat, are you?” Indigo slips his arms around Grimm’s neck and kisses his cheek.  “How very chivalrous.”

“Yeah, yeah.”  Grimm dutifully carts him out of the kitchen and into the living room where he makes himself comfortable on the couch, relocating Indigo to his lap.  “Goddamn, you’re a hot mess, Indy.” 

More laughter.  “Well, then.”  Indigo shakes out his wild mane of silver with one hand.  “Perhaps you should attend to that, hmm?”

Grimm’s voice dips into the abyss.  “Damn right.”  

[flowers-of-io]

Destinytober - Grief, Together

Read on Ao3 with proper formatting

Zavala skims over the report with unseeing eyes. Something Shadow Legion, something something Boaz reassigned from field duty. Something... experimental arc grenades? He shakes his head.

It is a beautiful afternoon (every afternoon is beautiful in the Pale Heart, uncannily so), not-sunlight shining through the trickling stream of tea as his mug, then the one across from him, are refilled. He hums in gratitude without looking up.

"Shouldn't you be takin' some time off, anyway?" A handwave, its shadow flickering over the table. "I'm sure our Hunter Vanguard there can manage on his own for a bit."

"I'm good."

"Oh come on." There is a longer beat of silence, distracting him enough that he moves on to the next report, and then words like a blinding grenade: "If it's about dealin' with grief, that ain't the way to do it."

Zavala's jaw clenches, hard. "I don't need a therapist."

"Not what I'm suggestin'." The faint plop of a sugar cube being dropped into the tea, then the clinking of a spoon against ceramic. "But you could use a talk with someone who has a bit of a different perspective."

Now he does look up from the datapad. He tries to school his tone into something as little bitter as possible and says, "What do you mean?"

Amanda leans back in her chair, mug held in both hands. "Y'know, I never envied you guys--Guardians, I mean--that you lived for so damn long. Berriole once told me of a Warlock she used to date, some Hidden who worked with the Owl Sector or whatnot. They'd been pretty serious about it, but then the whole transmission crisis happened and Shun got sick and all, and I guess that made everyone think harder about their own mortality 'cause they wound up partin' ways. The girl couldn't stand the thought of stayin' involved and then havin' to lose Berriole one day."

Zavala smiles sourly. He'd had that conversation with Safiyah, many lifetimes ago, long before they knew it wouldn't be the death of either that'd part them. Ironically, the stakes seemed lower then, because Guardianship was a high-risk profession back in the Dark Ages, and he retreated into the quiet life in the countryside primarily to protect her from losing him. It was only when Hakim came around that he was first faced with the stark possibility of outliving his own child.

The smile fades, and Zavala's fingers clench around the datapad. Yes, he was ready for eventually having to watch his son die. But not... not like this.

"Are you suggesting I should be glad of my current position?"

"You think I'd ever tell you somethin' like that?" Amanda says this reproachfully, but her eyes are soft when Zavala meets them. "What I mean is there're people 'round you who are... transient, Eris would say. I've had my fair share of watchin' folks I loved die on me, and I can't imagine what it's gotta be like to, you know, see little kids out in the City and know you'll most likely be there after they grow old and die. You can only lose so much if you live only so long." Her kind expression morphs into something impish, something he's recognised since the day she finally smiled months after arriving in the City, all those years ago. "And besides, I know you'd miss me."