#But that might just be a me problem and that only applies for a few vacancies most don't ask this

[outerwilds-events]

Beside Yourself, Nothing But Trouble

Apologies for how long this took, I had the bulk of this done for ages, it was just a matter of dodging life to get this edited and the last few words on the page.

This work is for @naryu-n The request was for Hatchling and their quantum double to survive the end of the world as they knew it and have some fun shenanigans, so I hope this satisfies!

word count: ~1700, no warnings apply

———————————-

Your fingers brush the edge of infinity as you reach, stretch, leap for the singularity to which all your world belongs. It is the center of the universe you’ll never live to see and as your eyes catch on Feldspar’s form from across the clearing, you think you might be okay with that.

You are. Fragmenting. White on pine on the grey-gold flash of Feldspar’s visor and you look up, rag-dolling. There are stars. There is another you among the trees. The you you are no longer looks scared.

You explode.

Dying doesn’t hurt, you don’t think, because thinking is beyond you. Instead there is sensation, the great rushing that is the entirety of everything contracting like a lung, then an exhale that scatters your who and what across the infinity. 

And like a breath, you are. You are skin. You are flesh and bits and ones and zeros and you are no more alone than you were in the grove where you sang the universe to sleep.

When you awaken, you still aren’t alone. This point is made rather emphatically by 120 plus kilograms of Hearthian landing on top of you. 

You still don’t do much thinking after that; the screeching gets dibs on your brain.

———————

Slate stares the pair of you down, sitting on their log imperiously as you both sit criss-cross in front of them like cowed hatchlings- and it is a pair of you. 

You look at yourself out of the corner of your eyes and can just make out them doing the same, yellow gaze identical to your own, down to the little squint you employ when you’re trying to figure out some new mystery.

You call it your thinking face, Slate calls it- 

“Glaring!? Glaring at each other can wait; eyes on me! You two aren’t moving until we get this guff sorted out, hear? I will not be making a report to Hornfels that I’m suddenly seeing double and you two will not be arguing about who gets the ship. I’ve already radio’d Gossan, so the only thing you two are getting is a check-up!”

“We’re alive,” the Hearthian so like yourself says, tone odd and wondering.

“We are,” you chime in, tone just the same.

“Are you two listening to me?” Slate’s tone, on the other hand, is something more in line with the screeching of metal breaking, all bent out of shape and ready to snap.

“No, not really,” you breeze back at them and your partner in crime grins goofily back at you, delighted by the snark. It seems your eyes aren’t the only thing you share. “Hey,” you continue, a thought striking you, “do you remember…?”

“Dying? The inevitable end of the universe as we knew it?”

“Dying?!” Slate again; so dramatic!

“Yeah,” you blink as your counterpart adjusts to face you fully, grin growing all the more wild. Is that really what you look like when you smile like that? “Exactly. I mean, I’m me, you’re me, we’re both not dead, seems our memories are the same, so…?”

“You were here first, you get the ship, no problem,” they wave a hand at you. “What I’m more interested in-” you lean forward, both curious and wary- “is who gets the name?” Okay, now you’re grinning too.

“No.” Slate’s hands come down hard atop both your heads, knocking your skulls together. The pair of you wince and whine and you can tell you’re both playing it up like wee hatchlings. “Nope, not doing this. What did I just say? The only thing you two are getting-”

Another pair of hands come down on your shoulders, which hike up defensively as a familiar voice shrills out- “Is a check-up!” You lock eyes again with yourself, yellow gaze near-luminous, startled.

Gossan. Bus~ted.

———————

You were never really attached to your name; it’s not that you didn’t like it so much as no one ever used it. It was always pebble, young’un, hatchling, scout, newbie, star-gazer, space cadet. What you were was more important than what you were called.

Having the person known to you as you become ‘Self’ to everyone else is just weird though.

“Self, look over here.” Gossan isn’t usually the one to do physicals, that’s generally Rutile’s job, but upon seeing the pair of you, Rutile’d decided that they wanted no part in your mess (about standard for them) and had left it in Gossan’s capable hands. 

There was some swearing involved.

Self complies easily enough, following Gossan’s finger with their eyes like you’d done just moments prior. In the background, Hornfels and Slate discuss the new ‘you’ in low murmurs.

“I don’t get it, how could this happen? You said Self had mentioned something about dying?”

“I dunno, just-” you watch as Self’s ears prick up upon hearing Slate tag a curse onto their name. “They seemed so flippant that it’s hard to take it seriously. An’ it still doesn’t give us an answer as to the hows of it.”

“And knowing doesn’t change the fact that there’s two of them now,” Hornfels says, wringing their hands. “One was space-crazy enough, how will we handle two?”

“I am not building a second ship. I spent way too long on this last one, I want to work on my own projects for once.”

“Slate, your latest personal project is a ship.”

“So?”

Gossan draws your attention back to themself with a click of their tongue and a hard clap on the back for Self. “Well, I can’t say there’s anything wrong with either of you, besides your usual chronic stubbornness and hard heads, but I’ll take that over new limbs or fewer eyes. You’re still grounded until we know more about what’s going on though.”

Self meets your eyes and the two of you stare at each other for a moment. You… Hadn’t really considered the whole ‘scheduled to go to space’ angle thing. From the look on their face, you don’t think Self has either. You’re not worried though, nor are you sure why everyone else is.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s fine Gossan. Me and myself, we’re probably gonna go. Talk. Or something.” Self says slowly, as if tasting each word.

“Fine by me.” Gossan’s nose is now thoroughly buried in Rutile’s medical kit, attempting to put everything away like a proper medical professional. They have about three different scalpels with curved blades in their hands and to your untrained eye, none of them are facing the right way around to fit in the bag.

“Yeah,” you say slowly, realizing just how long everyone will likely be distracted for. Self is grinning again, a little wild and a lot nervous, which you return with a warbling smile of your own. “We’ll be a bit.”

———————

“Now what?” It’s the question of a lifetime, one you’ve asked yourself more times than you can count. Now it’s startlingly literal and you find you still don’t have an answer. Self’s expression is a little mocking, a little chagrined, as if aware of this, and the two of you laugh as one.

“You say that like we had any idea that there’d be a ‘now’.” You return, at which Self nods.

“No time like the present to decide? I mean, space is off the table and none of Timber Hearth is really new to me, but I’m sure we can find something to do.”

“Y’know,” you begin, thoughtful, “why is it that when you say that, my first thought is to cause trouble? Shouldn’t we, like, be drowning in our own tears over the whole ‘almost dying’ thing?”

“We did die,” Self laughs back, “I distinctly recall us dying. And… I dunno.” It’s only because you’re you that you can tell there’s a sense of melancholy around them at all. The tilt of their ears, and pinch at their eyes- you know it right down to your marrow. And this? Right here? You can tell you, your Self; you’re still okay. 

“It seems weird to cry about living. I mean, we’re living? What’s not to love about that?”

“The inevitability of dying?”

“Been there, done that, did that. Dying isn’t now. What will we do now?”

You give the question all the consideration it deserves.

“What we always do, I guess. Enjoy it.” Cause trouble. You mean cause trouble.

Self can’t read your mind, but with the way they’re grinning, you’d almost believe it if they said they could.

“Then that’s what we’ll do.”

———————

When Hornfels finds the pair of you next, you’re already three steps into a twelve step plan to keep the world from ending (again). A series of metal sheets, polished to a mirror shine, are cast about the entry hall of the museum, flashing silver out of every window and doorway such that their sheen can be seen no matter where you look.

Self’s in a nest of their own making at the base of the Venture’s group photo, a pile of snacks around their ankles, and you’re up on the Nomai statue’s shoulders, getting the last metal sheet in place. 

A glance at self, a wicked little grin, and you tweak the angle so that the statue’s face suddenly leaps out at Hornfels from every direction. It’s gratifying that they scream; it makes the hard work double worth it. 

“What the-” swears. So many swears. “Who’s idea was this? Which one of you two numbskulls decided this would be a good idea?”

“Not it!” You and Self cry in unison, before turning to look at each other in utter bewilderment. Ah. You’d forgotten that about yourself.

It really was a miracle that anyone found the Eye at all, what with you at the helm. You’d spent so long bouncing around the star system on the exact premise of this personality trait. It makes this moment all the more real, because not even the Nomai could have predicted you and your Self would make to here, to now.

Hornfels shouts again and Self is out the door, abandoning you to your fate, which has you groaning aloud into your hands. You might understand why everyone’s being so dramatic about there being two of you now.

You hate responsibility.

[suddencolds]

.~

[the-busy-ghost]

Anybody want to tell me why writing <500 word cover letters is somehow more agonising and difficult than writing a 15,000 word dissertation

[phagodyke]

SUDDENLY STARTED RAINING SO HARD WE ARE SO FUCKING BACK

[loveandpeaceanddoughnuts]

To be perceived: Husband!Nanami x Reader

“I don’t feel good in anything!” Your clothes are strewn around the room, victims of your self-image. Nanami holds up a dress, raising an eyebrow in a silent offer. You shake your head. “That hasn’t fit in years!”

He sits down heavily on the bed, surveying the emptied drawers and your increasingly desperate face. He tries discreetly to check his watch. He’ll call and move the reservations back, no problem.

You take off the latest rejected outfit and sit down helplessly in the middle of the room. “Kento, I’m an ugly slug.” Your husband joins you on the floor, wrapping both arms around you.

“You’re a beautiful slug, dear.”

You laugh and lean your head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I know we’re running late…”

He kisses the top of your head. “Don’t worry about it. I just want you to feel good. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you, my love.”

“Sometimes I wish I didn’t have to be perceived, you know?”

Nanami nods thoughtfully. “I can’t make that happen, but maybe I could help distract people. Make it so you’re not the one they’re staring at.”

You turn to look up at him. “What do you mean? You’re wearing your scheming face…”

“Don’t worry, angel. You just finish getting ready and leave it to me, okay?” He disappears into the bathroom.

In a few minutes, you’re feeling a bit better. You’ve put on a comfortable outfit and done your makeup. Nanami’s voice is muffled from behind the door. “Are you ready, darling?”

“Yes, ready when you are!” You call back.

Your husband emerges from the bathroom, a confident smile on his chiseled face. Your mind short-circuits for a moment, not sure what to focus on first- the shock of blonde hair slipping over one eye, the expertly applied black eyeliner, or the skirt swaying around his muscled thighs. He looks beautiful.

“Kento, what is this?” You squint. “Is that my eyeliner?”

“No, it’s mine,” he says easily. “I’ve had it since high school.”

“And the hair? I’ve never seen you without it gelled up…”

He blushes a little at that. “Also high school.”

You shake your head in disbelief, your heart racing at the unexpected transformation. “Well I know that’s my skirt,” you giggle.

“Ah, yes. That’s correct. I found one with an elastic waist, so I could fit- but I’ll change if you mind me using it.”

“No, not at all!” You reassure quickly. He has a good eye for fashion, despite his usual insistence on a leopard-print tie. He’s paired the skirt with one of his own button-downs, sleeves rolled up over his ropy forearms. You step forward, cupping his cheek in your hand.

“You like it, then?” He asks softly.

“You’re beautiful,” you sigh. “But what’s this all about?”

He chuckles. “I figured that although you look stunning as ever, I might get a little more attention than you tonight. Help with the whole ‘being perceived’ bit.”

You laugh and lean up on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek, careful not to muss his hair. “You’re an angel. A sexy, stylish angel.”

“As long as I’m yours,” he murmurs. “Now. I’ve moved our reservations once, let’s not be late for them again, hm?”

Nanami’s theory was correct. Every eye in the fancy restaurant is on him as the two of you are escorted to your table. Some stares are admiring, some judgmental, but he’s completely unbothered. He looks at you from across the table as if you’re the only other person in the world.

You clink your wine glasses together. “To my beautiful wife,” he smiles.

“To my beautiful husband,” you smile back.

[henneseyhoe]

What A Woman Wants; Taste

Trevante Rhodes x BLACK!FEM!Reader

WARNINGS: SMUT, Chiron an eater in this but when is he not, pussy slapping, slut shaming (kinda), fingering, dirty talk, drug use(just a luh weed) no actual PinV, !!Unedited!!.

SUMMARY: The beginning of various stories about the reader, her diary and her many favorites.

✮✮✮✮

Whore, slut, fast, hot, easy. What really is the definition of promiscuity? Maybe just a woman who sleeps around. Or someone who’s had many boyfriends and flings. Would she be a whore if she slept with a married man? What if she didn’t know? Would she still be a whore?

The word was as complex as sexual relations in itself, but in her mind, everyone was a whore. Everyone had whorish ways. Some people liked to be smacked on the ass when they fucked, some liked to be spat on, tied up, scratched, degraded, praised, and then some. So what was the problem that she got what she liked but from different people? Nothing, she thought.

She had men from one end to the other side of the pond. Short, tall, muscular, skinny, masculine, feminine, you name it. She’s seen dicks nearly the size of her forearm all over the globe. She kept track of the ones she liked in a diary and tossed the ones that were no fun.

One of her favorites who also happens to be an old classmate from college ate pussy like a starved man and only got up when she told him to, and that’s exactly how she liked her men; doing what she told them to do.

A blunt in hand and tattooed legs spread from one end of the bed to the other, he drank from her fountain, quenching his thirst as she gushed around his fingers. His other free hand softly caressed her bare pussy, fingertips dancing along her mound before they pressed against her aching clit.

Pulling his tongue from alongside his thrusting fingers, he looks down and admires the wet and dirty scene in front of him, the second pair of your lips shining like he had just applied baby oil to her.

“Pretty ass pussy”

“Yeah?”

He nods. “Mhm. Looking like this and you expect me to keep my mouth off of you?”

She hums out a moan, her pretty toes curling at that.

“I missed you all month, you might be in this position for a while”

He smirked and pulls out of her, watching as her hole winked and shrunk back to it’s small size that once accommodated his thick fingers. Pulling the hood of her clit back, the pink button pops up from underneath, greeting him with a few twitches as her pussy clenched around nothing.

“Fuck, baby…”

She watched him with just as much affection, but his eyes were too fixed on her heat to glare back at her. Blowing cold air onto the bundle of nerves, he pulls a long moan from her and he smiles in return before taking four of his fingers a licking across the tips of them, his other hand still occupied with the hood of her clit as he did so.

He pumped fake a few times, lifting that hand to her pussy and making her flinch before his hand finally came down and spanked her sensitive clit, the woman nearly dropping the spliff in her hand as her chest rises, a shock of both pain and pleasure running through her core.

“Fuck!” She breathes, smoke exiting her mouth. She was quick to sit the drug down in an ashtray laid on the bed next to her, the man on his knees in front of her still laying smacks to her pussy until her legs were shaking and she was squirting all over herself. Swirls in her stomach and stars in her eyes, she almost thanked god that her ass was halfway off of the bed so her sheets didn’t get wet but she soon realized she celebrated too early, the large palm of his hand beginning to rub her entire pussy instead and replace the teasing strikes, all of the juices that were once just falling on the hardwood floor spraying on anything within ten inches of her. That included on herself too.

She couldn’t speak and tell him to let up off of her if she wanted to, her stomach felt like it caved in as she had yet to let go of her breath to continue receiving oxygen.

He opened his mouth and welcomed all that she gave onto his tongue, a smile also playing on his face. He loved it when it was messy, wet to the point where it could be considered soaked even. His goatee covered in pussy juice showed and proved that to be true, droplets of her dripping from his chin.

Even after she was finished he still went in and licked her up from her clit to the puckering rim of her asshole, fixated upon the idea to make her cum again if she’d let him.

✮✮✮✮

💌~ startin this thang off with some good ole pussy eatin, iktr!😼💀 hope yall enjoyed tho, i think imma really enjoy this lil series just cause it’s a bunch of random shorts and not an actual storyline 😭 like everything and everyone is connected still but it doesn’t matter until brought up lmao.

[princesssarisa]

I still can't get over that once, I saw someone write that they disliked Elizabeth Bennet because she was an "author avatar Mary Sue."

I understand taking that viewpoint if you only read the first half of Pride and Prejudice, before Darcy's letter. The impression the first half creates is "Most of these people are silly, obnoxious, or both. Witty, sensible, charming Elizabeth, who's usually the smartest person in the room, cleverly judges and mocks them all, while giving warm affection and esteem to the few who really deserve it." This is more or less the way she views herself and the narrative plays along with it. If you stop reading before Darcy's letter, then she might indeed come across as an "author avatar Mary Sue."

But then all of the above is deconstructed by Darcy's letter.

Elizabeth realizes – and we realize – that she hasn't been such a good judge of character or the cleverest person in the room after all. Her cynical, witty judgments have been just as faulty as her sister Jane's naïve idealism. She's been full of herself, and she's judged Darcy more negatively than he ever deserved (not that he hasn't been at fault too, but still...) because he stung her personal vanity, while letting herself be charmed and misled by Wickham because he flattered her. She's been very much at fault and she learns a lesson, just like we later learn that Darcy did after she rejected him.

A similar arc applies to Mr. Bennet, the person who has clearly influenced Elizabeth the most throughout her life. At first we're set up to like him for his wit, and to view him as the good, sensible Bennet parent in contrast to his silly, obnoxious wife. But then we realize – and Elizabeth is forced to realize – that no, he hasn't been a good parent, he's been irresponsible and mean-spirited toward his wife and younger daughters, and he's just as much to blame as Mrs. Bennet for all their problems.

How anyone can call Elizabeth a Mary Sue after reading the entire book is beyond me. Some people can't seem to let go of their first impression of her, even though the faultiness of first impressions is one of the novel's main themes.

[bekolxeram]

The sheer number of times Eddie is mentioned when Buck comes out to Maddie has been pointed out time and time again. Some take it as a sign that Buck is subconsciously in love with Eddie, some see it as foreshadowing for these two to be romantically involved in the future, while others simply think it's an Easter egg left in by writers as a nod to shippers.

The way I see it, there is a reason why Eddie keeps being brought up in this scene, but it's not what you think.

If you've rewatched this scene as much as I have, you'd remember that Buck actually isn't coming out to Maddie on purpose in this scene. He originally goes there to talk and ask for her advice, because he feels bad about the hot chicks incident when Eddie walked in on him and Tommy at the restaurant.

In fact, he fully intends to keep the identity of his date hidden. He can't even risk Chimney getting wind of it, in case he or Eddie puts two and two together and figures the whole thing out.

Maddie is always there to talk things out with her brother, but she would never turn down a chance to gossip.

He completely dodges Maddie's question and quickly changes the subject. He needs to tell Maddie the full story of his disastrous date, but he can only refer to Tommy as his date, or "this person". The more he does this, the higher the risk of slipping up, Maddie would likely ask more questions about this mysterious person as well, so Buck frames the whole narrative around the only person he can safely refer to: Eddie (and Marisol, but she isn't important in this story).

Maddie picks up on Buck's secrecy, now she really wants to know who this person is and why Buck refuses to reveal their identity. Buck again immediately shuts it down, and brings the topic back to Eddie.

While I'm sure Buck feels bad for lying to his best friend, especially when there's no reason to expect Eddie reacting with anything less than acceptance, when Buck starts actually talking about his behavior and what upsets him the most, it isn't really about Eddie. He's ashamed of himself for lying right in front of Tommy. In fact, he's so upset over Tommy cutting the date short and leaving him on the curb that he accidentally uses a gendered pronoun.

Maddie "I am 9-1-1" Han makes a career out of being a good and thorough listener, so of course she notices the pronoun. From this point on, the subject of the conversation shifts from Eddie to Buck's newly discovered sexuality, and later, Tommy.

Buck knows he goes to Maddie because he feels bad, but he still hasn't fully processed the fact that he's into men too and what it means to him. He's still calling himself an ally, a supporter of queer people, but he's confused as to why it doesn't seem to apply when it comes to himself. Maddie correctly points out that he's no longer just an ally, and the recency of his discovery might have been the cause of his strange and panicked behavior during the date.

This is the prime example of acting turning the same line into different meanings. The first "wow" seems to me like Maddie is finally connecting the dots. She practically raised her brother, it's not unlikely that she has previously witnessed Buck having boy problems. I feel like it's a "wow, everything makes so much sense now" wow. It looks like Buck takes a little offence at it and asks Maddie to clarify what she means by "wow". Maddie tells him it's more like a "wow, this is a nice surprise" wow.

Oh, boy is completely clueless. Maddie is just trying her best to keep up with Buck's increasingly oblivious statements.

Buck suddenly brings up Tommy, probably because he hasn't been able to stop thinking about him since the kiss. Apparently, he's so attracted to Tommy both physically and as a person, it makes him realize his interest in men, something no other has achieved thus far. Maddie recognizes the name her brother has been harping on for the past few weeks.

Poor Maddie must be so confused. First her brother and husband-to-be keep talking about how cool this pilot who saved everyone is, then he becomes Eddie's friend and Buck gets all jealous about it. Most recently, Maddie is horrified by Buck's action on the basketball court, because he only has a history of hurting himself to get someone's attention, not the target of his attention seeking. And now Buck has gone on a date with Tommy? So Maddie decides, one step at a time, let's not get ahead of ourselves. Buck initially tells Maddie about lying to his best friend and how he feels like a fraud, so she tackles (no pun intended) this part first.

If you come into this scene with preconceived notions, the word "feelings" being in proximity to the name Eddie may seem like to you that Maddie is pointing to "Buck's misplaced romantic feelings towards Eddie". But if you put these lines into context, Buck simply isn't sure of how he feels about his bisexuality in general. In fact, the only thing he's certain of in this entire conversation is his attraction to Tommy. Maddie also isn't bringing up Eddie out of the blue because she thinks her brother is secretly in love with his best friend. Again, Buck originally does want advice about lying to Eddie, albeit partly using his name to avoid revealing his date's identity, so Maddie gives it to him now, no need to read too much in between the lines, especially after the "wow" exchange.

Now that the Eddie stuff is out of the way, Maddie can comfortably gossip about Buck's new hot pilot crush. And Buck looks absolutely smitten at the mere mention of Tommy.

Eddie is undoubtedly a very important person in Buck's life, and it must be killing Buck inside for lying about something so important to his best friend. Though in this scene, Buck seems to be mostly using Eddie's name to circumvent the necessity of mentioning Tommy's name and to deflect any probing question about his identity. Once he accidently lets it slip that he was on a date with a guy, he pretty much drops the whole Eddie act entirely.

[tarotofhope]

Note: These are just my random personal observations, I hope you guys resonate with this. You can apply this to both western or vedic placements. There are some triggers/negative traits as well in some points, but please don't take any offense. I'll be writing mostly about Sun placements mainly because we don't get to know about people's other placements easily.

☾✴ Taurus moons or ascendants especially the ones with Rohini Nakshatra look gorgeous, soft, sensual and sexy. They have these beautiful big round eyes, button noses and full prominent lips. They have great sex appeal.

☾✴ I've noticed that people who have Libra placements in the big 3 have pale or lighter skin color than other people, no matter what ethnicity, culture, religion you belong to, I mean to say that, whether you're brown, black or white, If you have this placement, you will have either a fairer, more lighter shade or paler skin than other people. These guys rarely have skin problems because their skin is very healthy, clean, free of acne, almost like baby skin.

☾✴ Gemini Sun women mostly have curly or very wavy hair. They like to have shorter hair length and love to change their hairstyles often. Gemini Sun men are also very conscious about their hair, they also love to fashion their hair in different styles.

☾✴ Aries Sun men and women are very emotional from the inside, they would punch you in the face if you get them angry but then they'd also feel very bad about it later. They would cry for their loved ones very easily but people are always fooled by their rough and tough exterior.

☾✴ Cancer Sun women know very well how to hide behind their emotional veil even when they're at fault. Playing victim, they'd attack from behind that veil, making the other person look faulty. They're very uncomfortable around other strong and confident women, so they use their only weapon(emotions) to bring them down. They mostly see straightforward behaviour and confidence as a bad attribute or a threat.

☾✴ Virgo Sun women assume the weirdest of sh*t about other people's personal stuff, especially the things they're not aware about. I can give you n number of examples for this because I kid you not, I've mostly met Virgos all my life uptil now, all genders, all ages. They are good at rational analysis but this habit comes off as different to me from their otherwise popular traits. I've noticed this mostly in women, like many years ago, I had a bad cough and cold for a few days(not during Covid), I took a day off, went to the doctor, took my meds but had to go to office next day, so while in office, this one colleague who was a Virgo sat in the next cubicle besides me, so I was coughing most of the time, she looked at me and asked, "Are you suffering from TB? Haven't you seen a doctor? See, I'm telling you, it might be TB, you must go check." I was like wtf..!! I said, "No! It's not TB and I did go to the doctor. It's just common cough and cold, don't assume just anything." More than looking worried, she talked in a tone like I was dumb and stupid. My mom(a Virgo Sun), makes similar kind of weird assumptions, almost everyday.

Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼

Thank you so much for being here. I post PAC & Astrology Observations. Do love and support by reblogging, liking or following.

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[cripplecharacters]

Hi! I was actually wondering if you all could do a really in-depth post specifically on canes versus forearm crutches. I’ve noticed a couple of the recent asks pertain to it, and I think I myself still have one in the queue related to it, but in all of the posts y’all link us too in your answers to those asks, I have found the information is still very sparse and doesn’t directly compare the two in a lot of detail. I would really really love to see a specific dedicated post that breaks down the differences Between them directly, and goes into a lot more detail about what kind of person might prefer a cane and what kind of person might prefer forearm crutches. Differences in conditions, pain levels, fatigue levels, location of issue on their body, other symptoms, examples of disabilities that might more commonly default to one over the other, all that stuff. I’ve looked through basically all your posts on the subject I can find, and still feel like it’s really only scratching the surface, so if there’s a way y’all would be willing to do one big post on this topic specifically, I know at least I would really love it and I think others would as well! Most of the existing posts are a little too broad and surface level, and while I have found them super helpful as a starting point, I would love to see one that zooms in just on these two mobility aids rather than a broad overview of all types of mobility aids being compared like most of the existing resources y’all have. Seriously love what you all do and I would be extremely grateful for this!

Hey anon, just for you:

On Writing Characters Using Canes vs Crutches

[large text: On Writing Characters Using Canes vs Crutches]

This is a writing advice post that doesn't cover every single possibility because that's too impossible to try and do. It's simplified to be coherent for writers who have little to no experience with these sorts of mobility aids, and I encourage anyone who wants to write a character using either of these to treat this post as a small part of a larger research process. This post will contain generalizations for the purpose of me wanting to actually finish it. This is writing advice, not medical information, nor something you should be applying to real life.

Please keep in mind that a lot of the disability examples will only be shown in a single category because otherwise this would be a comical block of text. So yes, I know that a ton of conditions outside the "chronic pain" category also come with chronic pain, but I want this list to be actually easy to look through.

This will compare the cane (singular stick) to crutches (two sticks). Differences between a singular crutch and two canes will be at the end.

Canes

[large text: Canes]

The most primitive mobility aid that's out there. A wrist-height stick with a handle. An incredible invention. You hold it in your hand (at a rather natural angle) and that's mostly it - it's meant to follow a standard (left leg forward, right arm forward) gait and be a support meant for generally milder mobility issues. A cane can take up to 25% of body weight, so like half of what a leg does.

As a TLDR, here's what they could be:

One leg unable to bear the entire weight (but not completely unable) - this could be a result of a problem anywhere from the bottom of the foot all the way to the hip.

Milder balance problems - largely neurological, so either a condition that affects the brain, the spinal cord, or the nerves in the leg. There are also some autoimmune, respiratory, and cardiovascular causes as well, plus a few more.

Back/trunk problems, most commonly pain.

To use a cane you need two legs, most people who use canes for leg reasons will have a “good leg” and a “bad leg”. If this is the case, you'd typically hold the cane on the good leg side, as that redistributes the weight - and pain - between the bad leg and the cane.

The good leg needs to be able to bear the whole weight comfortably, the bad leg needs to be able to bear, at the very least, half of the weight. If the disability affects legs to the point where either:

both have problems weight-bearing;

one can't bear weight at all (e.g., amputation, flaccid paralysis, pain too severe);

then two crutches (or other mobility aid, like a wheelchair) would be the move. The cane doesn't replace an entire leg and is meant to be a minor support.

Examples of what would cause someone to use a cane:

Monoplegia or hemiplegia that is spastic (rigid) in the leg. This could be a result of stroke, traumatic brain injury, cerebral palsy, multiple sclerosis, nerve damage, Brown-Séquard syndrome, polio, encephalitis, transverse myelitis, progressive multifocal leukoencephalopathy, alternating hemiplegia of childhood, hemiplegic migraines, or being a hemispherectomy survivor. And many more things.

Chronic pain; arthritis, hypermobility spectrum disorders, chronic patellar instability, h-EDS, neuropathy, peripheral artery disease, past injuries (e.g., broken foot that healed incorrectly), systemic lupus erythematosus, joint replacement, chronic bursitis, and a lot more.

Relatively minor fatigue - most fatigue disorders will be on a wide spectrum, and people's symptoms often vary a lot. But a cane could help with fibromyalgia, Charcot Marie Tooth disease, POTS, scoliosis, severe kyphosis/lordosis, COPD (and other respiratory conditions), or milder forms of CFS/ME. Someone undergoing chemotherapy (or taking some other fatigue-causing medication) could also use one.

Muscle conditions, which are an even bigger spectrum. Spinal muscular atrophy type 3 and 4, early Limb-Girdle muscular dystrophy, tibial MD, Becker MD, or early myotonic dystrophy type 2 can all be reasons to use a cane. Keep in mind that these have drastically different presentations from person to person, and it's not entirely unusual for two people with the same kind of muscular dystrophy to use very different mobility aids (e.g., a tilt-in-space powerchair vs ...no aid at all). These are just the ones where I'm aware of a person who 1) has it, 2) uses a cane, even if it's not the most common aid.

Prosthetic leg on one side; usually below knee (high level amputees will more often go for crutches, even if they use a prosthetic).

The second biggest reason why people use a cane is balance. For this the cane can be held in either hand; some people have a preference, generally for the non-dominant hand for convenience - although many people with balance problems will also have a coordination disorder that might make using their non-dominant hand too difficult. Some people will switch the side they hold it on.

For a lot of people with balance problems, a cane might be the aid they use at home, and use a rollator or a wheelchair outside.

A good cane for balance purposes is a quad cane - it has four legs at the bottom and offer more stability than the single point equivalent. However, the larger base might also mean that for some people it can be easier to hit it with their foot, which ranges from annoying to dangerous.

Examples of disabilities that affect balance;

Many of the things included in the first section - primarily those that directly affect the brain or nerves.

Conditions that cause vertigo - again, many of the same things as before because a lot of them tend to originate in the brain. So other than aforementioned meningitis or stroke and the like: Ramsay Hunt syndrome, migraines, basically any sort of brain damage, POTS, Meniere's disease, labyrinthitis.

Respiratory problems, like chronic obstructive pulmonary disease, severe asthma, or lupus.

Coordination disorders - again, a lot of overlap with aforementioned disabilities, so I'll skip to things I haven't mentioned yet. Ataxia could be caused by a lot of things; some include the Chiari malformation, ataxia-telangiectasia, Friedrich's ataxia, Parkinson's, brain tumors, or Niemann-Pick disease. Dystonia is usually a primary condition rather than being caused by other things (although it can be). Dyspraxia is also a coordination disorder generally milder than ataxia, and canes can be potentially helpful for it as well.

As mentioned before, some coordination disorders will affect the upper limbs as well, and it might be too difficult to use a cane. For disabilities like Huntington’s disease, or ataxia that significantly affects the hands, rollators and wheelchairs tend to be more helpful.

Anything that causes the person to fall. Fall risk is the primary reason people use canes.

A cane can also be used for back/trunk issues. One can lift off some weight of the body from above the Problem by putting the weight on the arm instead. I have really severe kyphosis as well as (partial) trunk muscle atrophy/coordination problems and quite literally can't straighten my back for more than a few minutes at most - my cane allows me to do that more easily and without needing to think about it as much.

Examples of some conditions that cause that include;

sciatica;

degenerative disk disease;

past spine injury;

scoliosis or severe kyphosis/lordosis.

In my experience, you need fairly good arm strength to use a cane comfortably. For people with more significant weakness in upper limbs, rollators tend to work better.

Grip strength is also important; there are canes designed to mitigate this (the platform cane/crutch comes to mind) but they're not the most common because often (not always) when someone has this issue they already require a larger mobility aid.

Canes are often a "starting" mobility aid, i.e., a person starts using it at first but later transitions to using something else as their disability progresses (or they realize that it wasn't adequate in the first place, it mostly happens with slowly progressive conditions - when they decide to get a cane, it's often just too late). A cane can be useful at the very start of an onset of amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, but it's basically worthless beyond that.

Similarly (kind of), a cane can be the "smaller" mobility aid for someone who uses multiple of them at the same time. Someone dealing with fatigue could use a cane at home, but need a rollator for going out, or a wheelchair for longer trips. Another person could use a cane when going out with a prosthetic leg on, but use a wheelchair or crutches at home when not wearing the prosthetic.

Crutches

[large text: Crutches]

These are more complex and provide more help. Crutches directly affect your gait depending on the exact disability, and take away both hands. They can potentially take up to 100% of body weight for parts of the walking cycle if you have good upper body strength and balance, and 50% otherwise (so, one good or two half-good legs still required).

Crutches are used for a lot of things (realistically too many to cover here) so I'll just go with the main categories that encompass most of them.

A) Both legs can't fully bear weight;

The same things as in the cane section, but present on both sides rather than one.

Hypotonia; can be caused by thousands of things. Some include Down syndrome, Tay-Sachs syndrome, achondroplasia, being born prematurely, brain damage, and congenital hypothyroidism.

Paraplegia that's low-level and/or incomplete, or quadriplegia that's incomplete. Quadriplegia is a huge spectrum as well, and it will depend on the amount of strength and flexibility that the individual person has in their arms and hands.

Bilateral amputation with prosthetics. (Someone who can bear weight no problem but has a milder balance problem could use a cane instead.)

B) One leg can't bear any or a lot of weight;

The same things as in the cane section, they're basically all on a spectrum, so some people choose a cane and others choose crutches.

Unilateral amputation, or congenital limb difference.

Limb length discrepancy where it doesn't touch the ground or barely does so.

C) Significant balance issues;

Same things as for canes, but either more severe or just someone's personal preference.

D) Back/trunk pain;

Same as C).

Additional note based on things I have seen: you can't use crutches if you have no legs and no prosthetics. You can't walk literally just on crutches. You need at least a single leg or prosthetic.

(Yeah I'm aware that there's probably a guy somewhere who does tricks where he does exactly that for a short video. That's Crutches Georg and he should not be counted because 99.9% of crutches users won't be doing that ever.)

Crutches will provide much more stability and relieve more pressure than a cane, but there is a wide range of the amount of support depending on how they are utilized.

What the disability is can actually present itself in the person's gait - there are a few main ones that are associated with crutches;

Four-point. The two legs and two crutches work as four different points of support, and three of them are in contact with the ground at any time. A lot (not all) of people who use it will use crutches full-time and/or not be able to stand without them. The most stable and the slowest out of all of these.

Three-point. Probably the one most people have in mind when thinking crutches. The crutches both move at the same time, along with the bad leg, then the good leg follows. This is the "broken leg in a cast" way of walking.

Two-point. The closest to how non-crutch users generally walk. It's like having a cane on each side; left crutch forward, right leg forward. Fairly fast.

Step-to. The crutches work as one point of contact, and the legs as the other - both of each will move forward at the same time. In the step-to, a person puts their feet at the crutches' height. Fairly fast as well.

and step-through. I'd say the most difficult, least stable, providing the least amount of support. The same as in step-to, both crutches go forward before both legs, however here the legs get swung through them while the person is only holding up on crutches. This is the fastest that it gets, and can definitely be faster than an abled person walking. You can run quickly like this.

If you have issues visualizing them, there are a lot of great demonstrations on YouTube that you can look up for clarification.

There are a lot of subtle differences in which one people end up using, but as a rule of thumb, the more balance they lack, the more points of support they need. To provide some examples;

a person with quadriplegic cerebral palsy might lack balance and coordination, so they might use a four-point gait.

A person with one-sided tarsal tunnel syndrome can walk with a three-point gait, as it can be used to mitigate weight-bearing fully or partially - if the pain gets worse, they can just not touch the ground with that leg.

A person with incomplete thoracic spinal cord injury could also work with a three point gait, though they would put both legs on the ground. If someone has good strength in the arms and trunk, they can get both crutches in the front along with one leg, then try to get the second one to go forward as well. This is how a lot of crutch users with a disability affecting two legs, but with decent balance and upper body strength, walk.

A person who had a traumatic brain injury and now experiences balance problems but not as much leg issues could opt for a two-point gait. It does help with weight redistribution, but primarily provides a lot of balance.

Both step-to and step-through are primarily used by single-leg problem havers (like unilateral amputees) in my experience, but I've seen people with diplegia or incomplete low-level spastic paraplegia use it too. You need very good balance and good upper body strength. I've seen dudes do backflips and ride skateboards on crutches like this. You can run as well and be way faster than you think.

The same as canes, crutches require arm strength. The more you're looking to take away from the legs, the more will go to the shoulders. If someone doesn't have the needed arm strength, a rollator will be more helpful. Walkers not so much as they still require some strength to turn.

More Direct Comparisons

[large text: More Direct Comparisons]

The differences between pain and fatigue levels might be somewhat evident from comparing the sections above - to generalize the subject as much as possible: the bigger the pain or the fatigue, the higher possibility of using crutches over a cane is. They provide more relief for both, as well as providing more balance.

Now, there's always exceptions. Someone might not be able to use two sticks, because of a disability affecting one of the arms - hemiplegia is a common example. In this case, the person could prefer to use a single crutch rather than two. They could opt for platform crutches, which don't require as secure of a grip. They might need a rollator instead. They might have a powerchair that they operate with their good arm.

Another thing is that some people will use crutches even if a cane would work just as well. Some people like the grip more, or find them easier to use. They could also like that crutches are seen as more medical than a cane, which could be seen as a fashion accessory. Maybe they can be faster on crutches than with a cane (e.g., if their disability is limited to a single leg, getting it out of the walk cycle might be more convenient) and that matters to them.

And to go with this, some people just don't like crutches. I personally don't like the forearm cuff because I tend to swing my wrist around with my cane rather than hold it perfectly straight, so the cuff seems annoying. For someone else that could be more than a preference, e.g. if they have a limb difference that affects the length of their forearms to be much shorter - a person like this could prefer two canes.

As to what mobility aids are better for which disabilities, it's highly individualized, but to heavily generalize again: canes tend to be more helpful for relatively milder disabilities, and crutches for relatively more significant ones based on the amount of support they provide. But that's an oversimplification so simple that it's not really useful.

Someone with neuropathy in parts of their foot might find a cane completely sufficient, but it wouldn't be as useful for someone with nerve damage that caused flaccid paralysis from the hip down; they would probably prefer crutches. But then again, someone with mild vertigo could use crutches because they prefer them (even if a cane would work just fine) while someone else might have incomplete C6 quadriplegia and use a cane with leg braces over crutches because they enjoy having a free hand.

For more similarities between the two; overuse injuries can happen to both cane and crutch users, generally in the shoulder(s). They're not very common unless you're putting more weight on them than you're supposed to. They're very annoying because it drastically tanks your mobility until they get better (unless you can walk without them just as much that is), but they're treatable with physical therapy.

Now for the two canes and a singular crutch. Let's start with the fact that the latter is infinitely more popular than the former. It's basically the same as a single cane but more supportive; it's good for people who need more balance than a cane provides but can't use both hands. Two canes is very rare and I can't tell you what the actual pattern of choosing them over other options is outside of personal preference because I have no idea.

The general conclusion of the post is that crutches and canes really aren't that different, and are more of a spectrum of usable sticks by the amount of support they provide to the user. That's why often you'll see canes and crutches listed as the same thing when it comes to "management of XYZ disability" type resources - for a lot of them they're rather similar in practice, especially when compared to rollators, walkers, scooters, or wheelchairs.

I hope this was more in depth and therefore more helpful, if this still leaves you with some unanswered question feel free to reach out again.

mod Sasza

[sam-loves-seb]

the bathroom drawer

"Mickey!" Ian yells. "Did you move my cologne?"

"Your what?" Mickey calls back, appearing in the bathroom doorway while buttoning up his shirt.

"My cologne."

"No. I don't even know where you keep that shit."

"In here!" Ian says, shaking his head as he rummages through the drawer below their bathroom sink. "I swear I left it in here."

"Lemme see," Mickey says, nudging Ian to the side. "You're shit at looking."

"I'm not shit at looking, it's just not fucking there."

"Yeah, yeah," Mickey grumbles, moving the junk in the drawer around. "Jesus Christ. How much shit do we got in here?"

"Too much," Ian muses, folding his arms over his chest and leaning his hip against the sink. "But it doesn't matter anyway. It's not in there. I've been looking for--"

"Found it." Mickey holds up the blue bottle with a smug grin.

Ian grabs it from him. "Whatever."

Mickey raises his eyebrows. "Whatever? That's what I get?"

Ian leans in and gives him a loud, smacking kiss on the cheek. "Thank you," he says instead.

"Better," Mickey grumbles.

Ian spritzes the cologne onto himself while Mickey keeps rummaging around in the drawer. He pulls out an empty toilet paper roll, a broken comb with too many teeth missing, and an old phone charger with exposed wires.

He throws them all in the trash. "This thing is a mess."

"Yeah," Ian says with a sigh, checking himself over in the mirror. He paws at his hair a bit. "We gotta do a deep clean in here one of these days. Closet's a disaster too."

"What the fuck is--"

Ian looks over at his husband when he doesn't finish his sentence.

Mickey's brows are furrowed as he holds up a thin black stick in front of his face. "Is this makeup?"

Ian huffs out a faint laugh. "Yeah."

"Debbie's?"

"That thing's old enough to be Fiona's," Ian tells him, taking it from Mickey. "But no. It's mine."

Mickey raises his brows. "Yours?"

Ian uncaps the tube, twists the end so the little black tip pushes through the end. "Eyeliner."

"Holy shit," Mickey says slowly. "How fucking old is that thing?"

"Old," Ian says, trying to read the chipped writing on the side for any kind of date. "Probably expired."

"That shit expires?"

"Supposedly. But who knows."

Mickey tilts his head, watching Ian examine the eyeliner. "How the hell did it end up here?"

"No idea," Ian tells him. How it survived in the Gallagher house for as long as it did and moved to their west side apartment is beyond him. "Probably got boxed up with some of my shit a long time ago."

"Huh," Mickey muses. He crosses his arms over his chest. "Can't believe you used to put that shit on every night."

"Me neither," Ian says. "You ever tried it?"

"What, make up?"

"Yeah."

"For a disguise once or twice," Mickey tells him with a shrug. "Never like, just 'cause."

Ian starts to grin. "You wanna?"

"Fuck no," Mickey says instinctively. He bites his lip. "Why? You gonna wear it tonight?"

"Why not?" Ian asks, facing the mirror and leaning in close. "We're already going to a club. Might as well get go all out."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah." Ian glances over at his husband. "You got a problem with that?"

Mickey shrugs. "No."

"Okay."

Mickey watches with rapt attention as Ian applies the eyeliner to himself. The stick is old for sure, and it takes a few passes to really get the make up on his eyelid. It only takes a minute though, and then Ian's eyes are outlined in black.

"There," he says, blinking and turning to face Mickey. "How do I look?"

"Weird," Mickey says.

"Sure, but like, crazy weird, or hot weird."

Mickey's brows pinch together. "...Hot weird."

Ian grins. "It's kinda doing it for you, isn't it?"

"No. Shut up," Mickey says quickly.

Ian laughs. "You should try it," he tells his husband. "It's fun."

"It looks like it's gonna get in my eyes."

"Maybe," Ian says with a shrug. "But I bet you'd look hot with it."

"You say that about everything you want me to wear."

"And I've never been wrong once."

Mickey makes a face. "Does it hurt?"

"No."

"...Can I take it off if it looks stupid?"

Ian's face relaxes. "You can take it off whenever you want," he says softly. "Doesn't ever have to leave this bathroom."

Mickey glares at the eyeliner, his face slowly melting into apprehensive reluctance. "Fucking... fine."

"Really?" Ian asks, perking up.

"How do I do it?"

"I can do it," Ian offers, holding up the eyeliner and his open hand. "Lemme put it on you."

Mickey sighs through his nose, then steps closer. He tilts his chin up and fits his face into his husband's waiting hands.

Ian kisses his temple. "Close your eyes."

Mickey does as told. His eyelashes flutter at the first press of the stick, eyelids scrunching at the new, weird sensation.

"Hold still," Ian whispers, trying not to poke him in the eye.

"Feels weird," Mickey mumbles.

"Yeah, but..." Ian pulls back, smiling at his work. "Open your eyes."

Mickey blinks them open, eyebrows bouncing with it. "So?"

"Damn," Ian says, grinning. "You look good, baby."

"Fuck off with that," Mickey grumbles, turning towards the mirror. He makes a face. "I look like a fucking alien."

"A hot alien."

Mickey gives him the side eye, but he doesn't immediately wipe the eyeliner off. He leans in close to the mirror, tilts his head this way and that. Pulls at the skin on his cheeks and his temples. "Weird," he says quietly.

"So," Ian starts, capping the eyeliner and tossing it back in the drawer. "You ready to go, or what?"

Mickey sighs heavily, taking one last look at himself in the mirror.

Ian slides in behind him, curls a hand around his hip. "Don't overthink it," he whispers, kissing his husband's temple. "If you like it, go with it."

"I don't know if I like it."

"That's okay too."

Mickey leans back against him. "It looks good on you."

Ian smiles softly. "Thanks."

Mickey hums. "Fine," he says, standing up straight. "Let's go. But if anyone says anything about it--"

"I know," Ian says, hands on his husband's shoulders as he follows him out of the bathroom. "You get to punch them."

"I get to punch them."

"Fine." Ian kills the bathroom light. "And we might have to hit the 24 hour CVS on the way home. I definitely don't have make up wipes."

[razorblade180]

Streamer AU 6

Number 5 <-

Weiss:*rolls into view*….I’ve returned.

Yang:The bitch is back.

Weiss:Wow! Okay, rude. It’s not like I really left. I was in your streams all the time. I just don’t feel like doing my own after missions.

Yang:And yet somehow you still have more subscribers than me.

Photo Bunny gifted 30 subs

Weiss:Oh my gods! Velvet, thank you so much!

Yang:And the rich get richer!!!

Weiss:She says, knowing I’m not rich anymore.

Yang:And yet the money still pours in. Chat, make her play a horror game for being gone for so long.

“Yes!”

“PLEASE!”

“Alien Isolation.”

Weiss:Absolutely not. We have plans already. I’m just waiting for my co-host.

Yang:What am I then?

Weiss:A person who saw me hit the “live” button and immediately hopped into call to call me a bitch.

Yang:It’s in all in good love.

The Reaper: “Ayo! Look who’s back!”

Yang:Ruby, call Weiss a bitch.

Weiss:I’ll un-mod you. I’ve learned to do that recently.

Ruby: *enters call* Oh gods, chat, she’s learning computers. Tech savvy Weiss is dangerous. Who taught her such power?

Weiss:Your girlfriend.

Ruby:Oh, sorry chat. My girl can do no wrong.

Protector of Friendship: “💚”

Ruby:What’s the gameplan today? “Just chatting?” We can play Uno again.

Weiss:You hate teamwork. I swear you do.

Yang:Sends us on a life threatening mission where trust is needed, just to ruin it a day later.

Thunder Thighs: “How was mission? Everyone okay?”

Weiss:It was just bandits. Lots and lots of them. Unfortunately they ruined a village so most of the expenses went to rebuilding the town.

Yang:Chat, this woman is only on camera right now because her power bill is scaring her. This cute face has a price tag.

Weiss:Hey! I actually missed gaming. It’s oddly relaxing when I don’t listen to Ruby’s suggestions. Or Blake’s.

Ninja of Love: “League actually isn’t that bad.”

Ruby:That’s what I’m saaaaaying!

Yang:Don’t listen to them. They’re ill and can’t be cured.

Weiss:*looks at scroll*…Oh, I’ll be right back. Yang, you’re in charge. *gets up*

Ruby:Why not me?

Weiss:Because Yang doesn’t play League!

Ruby:You two lack vision. The four of us could be our own team! We could grab a few more friends and train for tournaments.

Ren: *enters call* Ruby, you are way too toxic for that. *leaves call*

Yang:Hahahahaha!

Ruby:You can’t just show up to say that!?

Weiss walks back into view rolling a second chair next to her. She’s then handed a coffee cup she gladly sips as she sits back down, all nice and cozy. Sitting next to her is Jaune, chilling in her merch hoodie as he waves.

Jaune:Hello…

“Whaaaat?”

“Oh it’s the guy.”

“Hi Jaaaaaaune!”

“Nerd alert”

“Co-host?”

Yang:I can’t believe you chose the other blonde over me. How cruel. What does he have I don’t?

Jaune:*holds up Kingdom Hearts*

Ninjas of Love: “FINALLY!”

Yang:..I would’ve bought it.

Ruby:Alright, maybe you chose better than Uno.

Weiss:Okay everyone, you can guess tonight’s game. It’s not like it hasn’t won several polls.

Ruby:Oh! Oh! Weiss, sub goal idea! 80 subs and you have to do a cover of the opening!

Weiss:I haven’t even heard it yet!

Jaune:You might like it more than the song from FFX.

Weiss:….

Yang:She’s setting you up for success.

Weiss:…We will circle back to that. Speaking of FFX, same rules apply. I don’t need back-seating from chat. My wonderful co-host here will help manage the stream and aid me with anything I ask.

Blake: *enters call* Jaune, what version is that?

Jaune:It’s from the 1.5 collection, so final mix. Post the patch.

Blake:You’re a good man.

Weiss:Do you want the camera on you or is that uncomfortable?

Jaune:I’m okay. This setup is nice.

Ruby:Questions like these wouldn’t be an issue if you got a VTube model. Penny could hook you up.

Weiss:I only recently learned how to fix normal PC problems. Don’t put that burden on me.

Yang:What does OBS stand for?

Weiss:I saved your life yesterday. What’s your damage with me?

Big Bags & Miniguns: “Is this the mystery boyfriend we’ve been searching for?”

Weiss:Cocoa, you’ve known Jaune forever. He’s always been around as a mod.

Thunder Thighs: “That wasn’t a no.”

Jaune:I literally showed my copy of the game. You all know why I’m here.

Cardinal Pride: “As if she’d date someone as lame as-

Message Deleted

Photo Bunny: “Please remember the chat guidelines before typing”

Ruby:I would’ve blocked him.

Weiss:He gets one more chance. I’m in a good mood.

Jaune:That’s the Kingdom Hearts spirit. *puts disc in*

Weiss:This won’t make me cry like Final Fantasy did, will it?

Blake:Oh….sweetie….

Weiss:*inhales* Great.

Yang:I already made a crude layout for the singing goal. I swear graphic designers should be thankful I like cars and fighting Grimm more.

Jaune:Don’t have any lower goals?

Weiss:I’m 20 away from having to cosplay a character from a game I’ve played. They also get to vote on an emote.

BB&MG: “How many subs for a boyfriend reveal?”

Weiss:…*rubs chin*

Ruby:You’re thinking about it!?

Weiss:I mean I’d have to talk it over with him to see if he’s comfortable with others knowing, but also that goal has to be high enough for Cocoa to be scared.

Jaune:….This game isn’t terribly long, and you have new followers. Personally I’d shoot for no less than 300.

The Monkey King: “Bleed her dry. 350”

BB&MG: “I thought we were friends Sun?”

Weiss:350 it is! After I discuss it of course.

“You’re on!”

“You underestimate our power!”

“I swear if it’s Neptune.”

“Just wait until payday!”

Yang:Like I said, the rich get richer.

[mythicmanuscripts]

hello!!! love your blog!!

Could you talk about what intense subdrop is like with Aegon, Aemond, and Jace? like what makes them drop, and what happened/how it went the first time it happened in front of the reader? with lots of soft aftercare? thank you!!!

Of course I can anon! Absolutely. So I definitely have spoken vaguely about subdrop with all of the main three but I don't think I've ever sort of just given overviews of it? So for each of them I'm gonna write a bit about what I think their general triggers for subdrop would be and what they'd need, etc cause then I think we can have a really nice groundwork to discuss some of the stuff further. So let me know if any of these thoughts inspire you! Or you can always apply them to an AU as well.

I'm also happy to share or hear thoughts about other characters for this as well :)) Anyway, there's some non-graphic NSFW content in this answer so if that's not your think then feel free to scroll on by otherwise, enjoy!

AEMOND:

So with Aemond I think he'd only experience subdrop a few months into your relationship, when you've already had sex multiple times and he's already showing his submissive side quite a bit. I think it would only start then because until he reached that level of comfort he always had his walls up?

Even though you were praising him and commanding him and giving him aftercare, he still stayed guarded. Make no mistake, he loved every single moment with you, but despite knowing that his brain still takes longer to catch up to the fact that he's actually allowed to properly let go. As a result, you get lulled into a false sense of security where it seems like the only aftercare Aemond wants is for you to help clean him up and dress him and cuddle a little bit. He was always up and about within an hour after the scene had ended. But this wasn't because he was fully recovered, this was because he had never let himself fall fully into you and so had less to recover from.

It's when you finally does start to do that when this arises. I think the trigger event for him fully lowering all his walls might actually be when you start to indulge him in non-sexual submission? You have him kneel while you read to him, watch him from the bed while he folds your laundry, etc. It's the praise and safety he feels in those moments that allows him to give himself fully later.

He drops hard after the first time he stopped trying to hide. You noticed a difference of course, he was much louder than before, much clingier too. He's just so expressive. Of course you praise him for it, telling him how pretty he looks and sounds like this.

But then the scene is over and you immediately get up to begin drawing a bath for him. When you return with the bucket he's curled up in bed, crying softly to himself.

Needless to say, a much more involved routine is created after that moment. But even with that, subdrop is something he never really grows out of? Doesn't matter how much he loves you and how perfect the aftercare routine is, the bottom line is that he's used to always being on high alert and sometimes he's going to drop when he has to come back from finally giving up that responsibility.

AEGON:

Aegon is another one that just lives to please. Before you he would try to please his mother and father and the whole bloody kingdom, but from the moment he feels the satisfaction of knowing you are pleased with him.... well none of the others matter anymore.

Of course you love that about him, and you always make sure to give him both enough commands and praise. But Aegon's problem is that he doesn't only want to please you, he also wants and arguably needs your attention and time? That's where his conflict comes from. He never ever wants to be a nuisance to you, but despite that desire he still needs to be kissed and held and comforted, and of course he also needs to be dommed.

He tries to balance those two needs but if one must be chosen over the other then he will always choose to serve and please before he chooses the attention. This is a recipe for disaster of course, especially because it forms a very vicious cycle where he needs you more because he's so unsettled because he hasn't pleased you but not having pleased you only makes him need the comfort worse and so it goes.

The solution to this isn't to try and strike a balance between domming him and commanding him, but rather to just stop the cycle completely? There's nothing that turns Aegon's mind off more than when you take over fully and he just does as you say.

Now when you start to see the signs, start to see him looking for things to do with you, hovering over thresholds of doors uncertain if he should come in and spend time with you, then you act. You actually have to be very firm with him, tell him that you're the one in charge so he doesn't get to decide what you do with him. That coupled with staying at his side for a few days sorts him out, at least for a while anyway.

JACAERYS:

His subdrops tend to have one of two main triggers. Firstly, and most obviously, is when he cums and can't do anything else. He gets better at lasting longer and feeling less sensitive afterwards, but there will always be times where his orgasm takes the wind right out of him and he's left unable to do more than just whine and grab your hand. He always feels so guilty, especially at the start when you're still getting used to being able to tell what stimulation will send him over the edge too quick. He feels like a complete failure and that tends to trigger a drop most times, which unfortunately you can't really mitigate the risk of because he's just wired like that.

The only way to comfort him is to promise him that you will let him please you once he's recovered? He won't allow himself to have your comfort until you've told him exactly what he can do to you once he's recovered.

The second trigger is actually something happening outside of your relationship? Jace can't separate those two parts of himself. When he feels he hasn't lived up to his responsibilities as prince then he carries that feeling into the bedroom, and no amount of love and praise can get him out of that headspace. You've tried simply telling him that you won't dom him that night and you can either have vanilla sex or do no more than cuddle but this backfires because he sees it as another rejection.

At first you had no idea how to lower the chances of that trigger for subdrop because you can't change his duties to his mother and the realm and you certainly can't talk him out of scening at all without making it much worse. The only thing that helps is when you give him very detailed instructions for very easy tasks. You watch him closely as he makes the bed or folds the clothes or takes out and repacks the bookshelves, etc. It's always tasks that are very easy but that's the point, the point of the command is so that Jace can do something 100% correctly and receive praise for it.

[hyuckswoman]

“are you going to bother me again?” you sigh seeing jisung putting his stuff in the empty spot next to you

“of course i am, how is that even a real question?” he says smiling getting ready for the class “do you have a major degradation kink or something? I fail to understand why you would take so much time off your day to piss me off” you ask your eyes trying to scrutinize him. “you talk weird ‘fail to understand’ okay mrs english major” he laughs taking his pen out of his pencil case writing down calculus quietly sighing at how this class was going to beat his ass “whatever” you sigh getting your stuff out to also get ready for the class. your teacher was pissy and scary also you did not want to get overwhelmed so quickly during the semester. in other words, you were not going to let jisung win.

“do you need help jisung?” the teacher was doing quick rounds in the class, assuring that his students were not getting overwhelmed by the exercise he had just assigned. the multivariable calculus class was almost empty for a reason and he did not want to lose his job, so he had to at least make sure the few students attending his class weren’t failing.

upon hearing the teacher’s question, jisung’s first instinct was to look up at you to see if you were making fun of him or not. call him insecure but he had kind of always been jealous of how easy the material was for you. when you threatened to haunt him to- and i quote- mess up his academics he kinda laughed because in all honesty? he was capable of that all on his own. and judging by the look on his teacher’s face when jisung replied “no i’m fine thank you”, he wasn’t the only one who knew that he and him alone could fuck up this college year.

when the teacher quietly called for your name and asked you to help jisung you wanted to laugh in his face and to tell him no, but something about an older man that’s a figure of authority in your life made you immediately respond “yea no problem” because in no way were you ever going to say no to this scary scary man. jisung debated in between being super embarrassed by the fact that he was the only one who struggled with the material (he wasn’t but he’s self-centered so he doesn’t notice other people) or in being slightly happy that the teacher was giving him an easy way to make your life living hell for the next 30ish minutes.

you mentally sighed as you knew what was coming but still glided your paper over to jisung’s side to at least give it one fair try and then automatically give up when he doesn’t take you seriously. so you began to explain. “in this example we’re trying to find this partial derivative so x is the constant right? so basically what you have to do is apply this limit formula since y is the constant and the derivative is with respect to x. the reason why we can use this limit formula is because the limit definition of this partial derivative is basically the same as the one for the derivative. im sorry if that wasn’t super clear but just yea i’m shit at explaining” you say fully expecting him to throw a jab at you for being a nerd (as if you guys don’t share the same classes)

“no i get it, thank you. i just don’t understand why we’re not considering the other variables” he says furrowing his brows further “it’s because that’s not what’s asked when doing partial differentiation that’s it. we’re focusing one variable at a time that’s why it’s partial…i think” you answer “oh okay that makes sense. so for this one this would be the answer?” he asked showing you his notebook. he has neat handwriting. atypical for a man. “yea, at least that’s also what i found but we might both be wrong” you shrug not too confident in your own answer (even if you literally cannot think of any other way to solve this mess).

and if him taking you seriously when you explained the material instead of bothering you or making fun of you did not surprise you enough, him constantly showing you his answers and asking you questions for the rest of class did. what really shocked you to your core was when he asked if you could tutor him with some classes some day, seeing as tough you guys literally shared every class.

he was also very shocked when you replied “no, suck my dick you ass. im not forgiving you for snooping through my phone just yet”. and he laughed a lot. this semester was really going to be fun for him.

4. no tutoring

last chapter masterlist next chapter

notes : sorry for the late chapter!

taglist: @kgyam4 @sunghoonsgfreal @injunnie-lemon @nctrawberries @222low @multifandomania @joyzluvr @starwonb1n @222brainrot @sinsgaybutthatsokay @defzcl @lostinneocity @junviadinho @mrshwang-park @skepvids @wonbin-truther @jkslvsnella @jising-jisang-jisung @nanaxwi @polarisjisung @amrqxz @jirsungs @haechansbbg @dalsosapple @pookime @pinklemonade34 @lotties-readings @roseangelxfuma @jiiieun @inosfavgf @mystverse

[lynnbanks]

It was the first real day out on the lake for the summer with all the boys and a few of the girlfriends including y/n. The sun was high and so was the energy so much so that she had forgotten to re-apply sunscreen leaving her as red as a tomato after her post-lake shower.

Getting sunburnt was never really a problem for her because of her skin type her mother was Caucasian and her father was Micronesian so she was fairly tan most of the year and would turn 3 shades darker in the summer; so sunscreen was never her main priority when having fun on the boat even though she would usually tell her boyfriend to re-apply every chance she got. Today it had just slipped her mind.

And she was left to deal with the consequences looking in the mirror and frowning at what she saw; making quick work to get the aloe vera and applying head to toe or at least what she could reach.

“ LUKE” she yelled out to her boyfriend sitting on the bed “Can you help me real quick?” Luke walked in and before he could agree “What the fuck baby that is bad.” he said looking at her back “I know I need help” she wines “Can you put some of this on my back please” handing him the bottle of aloe.

“This is why you need to put on sunscreen my love this is going to take like a week to heal,” he said in a voice of pity and y/n just frowned at him in the mirror. After thoroughly applying letting it dry and then applying it again.

“There is no way I am going to be able to wear a bra” she said as she pulled a shirt over her head trying to be as careful as possible. “ maybe it's not so bad you got burnt after all,” Luke said with a smirk causing y/n to hit him with her towel “ that is not nice Luke,” she said with a pout “I'm sorry baby I was joking,” he said pulling her to his chest “ we need to get some food in you and some water you will feel better then hmm?” she shook her head yes but didn't pull away just yet.

Down in the kitchen, Luke started preparing a plate for her full of the chicken Jack had just grilled on the new grill he got for his birthday now that he had learned how to cook and all the other sides. Before setting it down in front of y/n “thank you lukey you are very sweet” Leaning up for a kiss he gladly reciprocated “You are very welcome baby”

It wasn't until the next morning that the whole no-bra thing started messing with his head. Y/n was feeling much better and was in the bathroom brushing her teeth when Luke walked in greeting her with a lopsided smile “Good morning baby” “Good morning handsome” she said before rinsing her mouth.

Luke was about to grab his toothbrush before something In the mirror caught his attention; his girlfriend's perfect boobs staring right at him as she started her skincare. Good God that was a direction he thought before continuing his morning routine.

Not even 30 minutes later did it happen again this time in the middle of the conversation he was having with her about breakfast “Lu are you listening” she asked “I-um yeah I'm listening” That was a lie.

And again about an hour later when they had made their way out to the hammock they sat in every day at least once. When she had laid down on his chest and he could feel her boob press to his chest in a way they couldn't when she had a bra on; causing a groan to slip out of his throat.

“Sorry Lu I didn't mean to hurt you” y/n said trying to sit up but before she could Luke pulled her down to where she was “It's not that it's these,” he said slipping a hand up into her shirt, and giving her a hard squeeze “ oh” she moans slightly “ my boobs are the problem?” “ they might be if we don't do something about it right now,” he said voice low even though they were the only ones outside “Well we aren't doing anything about it out here that is for sure.”

And I will leave the rest for y'all to imagine <3

[redtsundere-writes]

Part 25: Strong, Fast & Almighty

King!SukunaRyomen x Servant!FemReader

Summary: You used to be just another servant among the army of humans operating under the command of the terrible king, Sukuna Ryomen. An ordinary human who only knows how to wash, clean and cook. Until one day, he notices something in you that you hadn't seen before.

Tags: MDNI. +18. Murder. Blood. Cannibalism. Sukuna Ryomen Is The Warning Itself. Nudity. Sexual Display. Vaginal. Fingering. Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst. Beta read.

Word Count: words.

A/N: Sorry, I got sick and couldn't post uwu

Beginning. | ← Previous | Next →

“Red?!”

The night had started badly. The ball was just a few hours away, and you were already on the verge of collapse. You stared at the dress with a mix of amazement and bewilderment, unable to believe that the king had chosen that color. The corset, coated in rubies, the soft suede skirt and the sequined bodice sparkled so brightly that you had to squint to keep from going blind. It was a masterpiece, yes, but it also went against all dress codes. Part of you knew it was your fault; after all, curses hardly understood that society ball dresses were supposed to be white, simple and coquette; not flashy, alarming and, much less, sensual.

“Yes, a very deep red,” Kenjaku, who was holding the large box containing the dress, answered your hypothetical question.

“No, I can’t wear this,” you said before reluctantly closing the box.

“Why not? It’s beautiful.”

“It is, but if you want me to infiltrate the sorcerers, this will do the opposite,” you explained.

This was a mess, a crimson-tinged mess. If you dared to wear that dress, you would stand out more than a flare in the middle of winter. It was too daring, too provocative, and wearing it would be the equivalent of throwing a glass of red wine in the king’s face. Now, infiltrating the Zen’in would be much more complicated than it should be, as if that scandalous dress wasn’t already enough of a problem.

“Is there a problem?” Sukuna asked. He came closer, seeing you arguing with your master. They had drawn the attention of some curses, distracting them from unpacking the camp for the night.

“This dress is against the dress code of the ball. If you give me some gold, I can buy another one at…” 

“I know,” Sukuna interrupted you.

“You know?” You and Kenjaku asked in unison, stunned.

“It’s not the first time we spied on the sorcerers,” the king explained.

“So, did you choose a red dress on purpose?” You asked, confused.

“Our presence alone is going to make a big impression. So, if we’re going to draw attention, we might as well do it right.” Sukuna took you by the chin so you could look him in the eyes. “I want my queen to shine above all those obnoxious princesses.”

Sukuna gave you a proud smile before leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead. Then, with his authoritative voice, he ordered Kenjaku to help you get ready, before retreating to personally oversee the curses keeping the camp in order. “He just wants to make my job harder,” you thought with a mix of annoyance and resignation.

The dress flowed down your long legs, further enhanced by the vibrant heels that seemed to lengthen each step. The sequins hugged your figure like a second skin, while the second suede skirt held on your waist perfectly and fell into an elegant train that followed you with every movement. This dress was unlike any Sukuna had ever gifted you; so much so, that you barely recognized yourself in it.

Kenjaku worked with meticulous precision, brushing and braiding your hair into an elaborate updo that exuded elegance. Then, he applied makeup that was more dramatic than you had imagined. Your face was sculpted with strategic shadows, dark eyeliner highlighted your eyes, and a passionate red lipstick became the finishing touch, lighting your lips like a fire that no one could ignore.

You looked at yourself in the makeshift mirror inside the small tent as Kenjaku added the last of the golden accessories to your hair. What that glass reflected was not your familiar image; It wasn't the dress, the jewelry or the complicated hairstyle that made you feel different. You were no longer the countryside girl who ran through the hills looking for the sunset with her sisters. Now, you were the fiancée of a tyrant. A question, heavy as a rock, settled in your chest: Did that make you a tyrant too?

"You look wonderful, powerful," Kenjaku whispered proudly as he placed the small gold rose-shaped necklace over your cleavage.

Powerful. Even if you didn’t feel it, you had to pretend, cling to that illusion to keep a plan built on fragile probabilities going. Now you were facing the tyrant on the immense chessboard, but blindfolded. You couldn’t see his pieces, and all you had were a handful of pawns to defend yourself. Surrendering would be the easiest thing to do. All you had to do was bow down, obey your king’s every command, and let the chains of fate hold you down completely. You still had time. But you wouldn’t. You couldn’t.

Because even if you were no longer that countryside girl running barefoot under the open sky, you knew you had to move forward. Not for yourself, but for the hundreds of girls in the commune who still were, who deserved a world where tyrants didn’t decide their destinies. You were all they had, and that responsibility was enough to harden your gaze and keep you steadfast.

“Thank you, Kenjaku.” You smiled at him through the mirror. Your teacher patted you on the shoulders, indicating he had finished his part of the job.

“Since we don’t know exactly what awaits you in the Zen’in castle. In case it is a trap, you must escape as soon as possible and get out of here. Don’t go back to camp, go back to Sukuna’s kingdom,” Kenjaku explained.

“How am I going to get there?” You arched your eyebrow.

Kenjaku pulled out of his loose sleeve a yellowish sphere that reflected a rainbow against the light. You had seen it before. It must be one of his curses.

“This is the rainbow dragon. Once it senses that you are in danger, it will come out on its own.” Kenjaku handed you the sphere.

“Where should I keep it?” You rotated the sphere, producing a beautiful change of colors on the palm of your hand.

“Swallow it.”

Your body froze at that instruction. The sphere was the size of a grapefruit. There was no power on earth that would make that go into your mouth willingly. Kenjaku had to be joking.

“I’m not joking,” Kenjaku answered you as if he could read your mind. He took the sphere from your hand. “Open your mouth.”

“He-!”

You didn’t manage to finish your complaint before Kenjaku, with relentless force, began to force the sphere into your body. You squirmed, instinctively fighting against him, but his grip was unbreakable. He mercilessly shoved the sphere down your throat, and the bitter, abrasive taste burned you as if you were swallowing poison. You coughed, trying to resist, but Kenjaku didn’t relent. With one last push, the sphere descended completely, leaving a strange, oppressive weight on your stomach that made you double over from the impact.

“Kenjaku!” You gasped, spitting out the taste of burnt oil that lingered on your lips. It was so intense that it would probably stay there all night.

“It’s for your safety, young lady.”

“Are you done?” Sukuna entered the tent.

Sukuna was wearing one of his classic black kimonos, an outfit as practical as it was imposing, designed to offer comfort and freedom of movement in case war broke out. However, his choice of clothing also blatantly defied established codes. These were much more flexible with men, allowing them to wear formal suits or military uniforms, if they hold a rank of authority. But the great king, with his characteristic disregard for convention, looked somewhat loose, flowing, even markedly feminine. It was an act that would undoubtedly ignite murmurs among the courtiers. Sukuna, as always, seemed to enjoy the provocation.

“Yes, of course.” Kenjaku said with an obedient bow.

“Get out then,” he ordered.

Kenjaku left the tent without a word, leaving the space in a silence that seemed to amplify his absence. You were now completely alone. You looked at your reflection once again, and a smile of approval appeared on your lips as you contemplated how the dress fit your figure perfectly. It was a work of art, a weapon in the form of elegance.

Sukuna approached with his imposing presence, taking one of your hands with a confidence that brooked no resistance. With a slight gesture, he indicated that you should turn on your axis. You obeyed, letting the shining fabric of the dress dance around you, while he watched you with a satisfied look that seemed to say that you were now everything he had imagined... and more.

"Who knew that a daisy could look like a rose?"

There he was again. Comparing you to a daisy. You no longer knew if he said it to mock your innocence or to flatter your beauty. Knowing him, it could be both at the same time.

"You look good, too." You smiled back at him. "Are we leaving now?"

"You just need something else."

From behind him, Sukuna handed you a small sheath. You clicked open the latch and uncovered a red dagger. It was small, the size of your hand, and had a rose engraved on the wooden handle. A subtle but lethal weapon.

“It’s cursed, it will help you in case the dance is a trap,” Sukuna explained before putting the dagger back into its sheath.

“Where am I going to put it? This dress doesn’t have pockets…” You quickly realized a possibility. “Don’t make me swallow it,” you said in fear.

“No, no, no. I wouldn’t do something like that to you.” Sukuna laughed as he saw that Kenjaku’s sphere left you with a minor trauma. “That’s what I have this for.” From his back, he pulled out a garter that was in his other hand.

“Oh, it’ll be hard to put on,” you muttered, complaining about how tedious it would be to put the garter on your thigh with such a tight dress on.

“Not if I do it,” Sukuna offered.

Sukuna made you sit back down, his low, firm voice leaving no room for protest. Then, with a calmness that belied the tension in the air, he knelt in front of you. His gaze locked with yours for a moment, before he reached for one of your legs in a gesture that took your breath away. Your breathing hitched as you realized what he was about to do.

With unexpected gentleness, he placed the tip of your foot on his knee. His rough, battle-hardened hands brushed your skin as he began to slide the garter up your leg. His thumbs moved with a slowness that seemed deliberate, almost cruel, as you bit your lower lip, struggling to hold back any sound that might betray you. The warmth of his fingers was an electrifying contrast against the cold of your skin, a fire that seemed to ignite something deeper within you.

When he reached the right height, he pulled your skirt aside with a precise movement. He pulled out the dagger that had been waiting its turn, and with almost ceremonial skill, secured it between the garter and your leg. He pulled the white ribbons firmly, tightening them in place. His hands lingered just a second longer than necessary, as if he were marking you with something more than just a weapon.

“Are you ready?” Sukuna looked up to meet your flushed face. You could only nod.

The carriage, having been destroyed in the forest of curses, had left you with fewer options. Walking was the only solution to get to the castle. Sukuna, with a mix of authority and pragmatism, carried you for much of the journey. He didn’t say anything, but his actions spoke for themselves: he wasn’t going to let the heels ruin your feet before facing what awaited them.

The path took them to the heart of the Zen’in kingdom, a place that exuded natural splendor and tradition. Leafy trees stood like ancient watchmen, while vines coiled around natural rock formations, creating a landscape that seemed straight out of a painting. The fresh air was an unexpected caress after the stuffy atmosphere of the forest. But the most disconcerting thing was the presence of humans. Elegantly dressed civilians strolled through the cobblestone streets, their suits and jewelry reflecting the opulence of the anniversary they were celebrating.

Their gazes bored into you like sharp knives. Disbelief painted their faces, some filled with fear, others with astonishment. How was it possible that a curse, the king of them all, was walking through their lands, accompanied by a human figure? You could only respond with a nervous smile while keeping a firm grip on his arm. Despite the bewilderment that hung in the air, Sukuna advanced with the same confidence with which one claims what is his.

The castle appeared before you like a colossus of stone and power. Larger and much more imposing than you had imagined, its towers seemed to touch the sky, and the shadows they cast on the drawbridge were almost intimidating. You looked up, trying to take in the full magnitude of it, but soon realized that the walls seemed more of a threat than a welcome.

When they reached the bridge, the guards tensed instantly. There were no words of warning, no attempts at negotiation. The cursed swords glowed as they were drawn, and their wielders assumed attacking stances. “Is this how you’re going to do things…?” Sukuna thought, not even bothering to hide the cruel smile forming on his face. He was ready, more than ready, to cut them into pieces if they dared to challenge him. To him, this was nothing more than a game he had already won.

“Wait!” You stepped between your king and the guards with your arms outstretched. “We were personally invited by the Zen’in kings!” You exclaimed.

“Why would the king invite a disgusting curse?!” One of the guards yelled at you.

“Hey, have more respect for King Sukuna Ryomen!” You defended your king with equal volume.

The two guards froze, as if the surrounding air had stopped. Their eyes widened, and a thin layer of sweat began to glisten on their foreheads. It was obvious that they knew exactly who they had in front of them: Not a man, but a monster, one who could end their lives with a simple snap of his fingers. Sukuna’s aura seemed to fill the space like a crushing shadow, robbing them of every last vestige of bravery. Calmly, you pulled a neatly folded invitation from Sukuna’s pocket. You held it up to them with the friendliest smile you could muster. Not out of fear, but out of empathy, as you fully understood how the poor men felt.

As they took it and examined it, the guards’ expressions changed from terror to nervous embarrassment. It was unmistakable: the invitation was authentic. They clumsily lowered their weapons, the blades clanging against the stone floor. One of them tried to stammer out an apology, but the mere lift of Sukuna’s hand reduced him to silence. They had made the mistake of defying the king of curses, and the echo of that mistake would still haunt them.

“We just want to have a nice night,” you said.

The two guards exchanged quick glances, assessing who would dare lead the unusual guests into the castle. Finally, the guard on the left let out a deep sigh, resigned to the inevitability of the situation, and with an awkward gesture, motioned for them to follow. Sukuna offered you his arm again, and together you began to advance into the castle.

The moment had come. You had to infiltrate among the most powerful humans in the world, and you would do so to the beat of the piano, with the elegance of a piece of music that begins softly, but with each note gaining in intensity. As they crossed the threshold into the courtyard, a crowd of citizens watched them with eyes full of wonder. Surprise quickly turned to fear. Whispers spread among them, wondering if they should do something about it, although, upon seeing someone as imposing as Sukuna, it seemed that not even the air dared to move. Eyes diverted, unable to sustain the weight of his presence.

Sukuna, however, was already used to this kind of reaction. The discomfort, the rejection, the repulsion… he had experienced all of it all his life. It was nothing new to him. He remembered the rocks thrown at his head, the burn marks on his arms, the bitter taste of the poisonous berries he was given when he was still just a child. He had endured it all, like someone who gets used to wounds that never heal, like someone who learns that the world will never have mercy. He was just a child, but even in his vulnerability, he was already a force that others feared.

“My king, what kind of flowers are those?” You snapped him out of his thoughts, pointing to the large purple flowers growing on the vines.

You looked at the castle with a seemingly indifferent gaze, as if everything that happened around you was of no importance. However, deep down, this was not the case. The reality was that other people's opinions affected you more than you wanted to admit. You had grown up in the shadow of a troublesome sister, and so the disapproving glances of old ladies and the murmurs of neighbors annoyed by her ineptitude were no strangers to you. You couldn't even escape when you became a maid. You were used to being the target of criticism, to living with that constant pressure of being judged for the mistakes of others. But what really worried you at that moment, more than the judgment of others, was a simple truth: you were wearing the wrong color.

“They are Clematis. They are related to wisdom, aspiration and mischief,” Sukuna answered, distracting himself from what was happening around him.

“Mischief?” You asked curiously.

“It’s known as the ‘devil’s darning needle’ because it can be toxic to humans and animals,” Sukuna continued.

“Oh, it’s a shame they’re cute,” you commented with a pout.

“The danger doesn’t take away the cuteness,” Sukuna smiled. You could only return the gesture.

You climbed the majestic white marble stairs, the steps seeming to glow under the light of the torches and the hanging chandeliers. Each step echoed softly, like a prelude to the spectacle that awaited you. Before you, the castle entrance loomed imposingly: a gigantic door, carved with intricate details that told stories of wars, victories, and dynasties. Behind that door, you knew, were kings and queens, princes and princesses, dukes and duchesses, the most influential figures in the world.

You had attended balls before, but never like this one. Your previous experiences had been with the middle class, or at public celebrations hosted by the kingdom, where crowds shared laughter, music and simple dancing. But tonight was different. This time, you would be surrounded by people who could truly change the course of history with a single word. And, though you tried to keep your composure, the weight of that thought made your heart beat faster.

The guard leaned toward the announcer, whispering their names in an almost reverent tone. Sukuna, at your side, barely seemed to notice the exchange. His gaze remained fixed on the door, though out of the corner of his eye he watched you with a slight expression of interest, as if he were gauging your reaction. As the announcer gave instructions to the trumpeters, preparing them for what would clearly be an important welcome, you felt the pressure of his hand on your back. With a firm, but almost imperceptible gesture, the king indicated for you to correct your posture.

“You are standing next to the most powerful king in the world, act like it.” He asked you not to be intimidated by what was on the other side of the door.

You took a deep breath, filling your lungs with air as if that could dissipate the tension that compressed your chest, and nodded with determination. Sukuna was right. You had no royal blood, no superhuman powers, nor the refined education necessary to compete with that elite. But you did have something that they could not take away from you: guts. And that would be more than enough to stand firm and not let anyone trample you.

The blare of the trumpets broke the air just as the huge doors of the hall swung wide open. Their sound abruptly interrupted the melody of the orchestra and the perfectly choreographed dance that filled the room. The gazes of those present immediately turned to the entrance, where two figures defied everything they expected.

“Sukuna Ryomen, the king of curses and owner of the East Coast, has arrived, along with his partner, Miss Y/n!” The announcer exclaimed to the four winds.

No one applauded. The room, a sea of ​​impeccable military uniforms and white dresses that radiated purity and tradition, was filled with expressions of shock and horror. The contrast could not be more striking: Sukuna, a colossal curse that seemed to absorb all the light in the room with his mere presence, and you, a small lady walking beside him in a red dress as intense as blood itself, as if every step you took was a statement against their norms and customs.

The murmur began to spread like a wildfire, drowning out the last echoes of the trumpets. Everyone seemed to hold their breath, unable to take their eyes off the scene unfolding before them as they moved out of his way. Aware of every gaze that was fixed on you, you clung a little tighter to Sukuna's arm. You could feel the gazes piercing you, but you stood tall, remembering the guts that had brought you here would also be the ones that would take you further.

The hardest part was about to begin: presenting yourself before the kings. You had imagined finding an elderly couple, figures covered in gold from head to toes, with faces weathered by years and responsibilities. However, the reality was completely different, and you couldn't help but feel surprised.

The Zen'in kings sat on majestic thrones, made of white gold, with intricate details of emeralds and green quartz, which shone under the light of the huge chandeliers in the hall. Their youth was disconcerting. At first glance, they seemed only a few years older than you.

The queen was the first to catch your attention. Her dark hair, elegantly cut, framed a kind, almost innocent face, which was illuminated by a calm smile. Her white dress, designed with a simplicity that contrasted with the excesses of the room, made her appear ethereal, as if she were more spirit than flesh. There was something about her that was disarming, a warmth that almost made you forget where you were.

It was the king, however, who truly dominated the space. Even seated, his figure projected an imposing presence. He was tall, his black hair falling naturally over his forehead, and his burly body was hinted at beneath a familiar military uniform. You had seen that design on Commander Naoya, but here, on the king, it seemed like a perfected version. The medals that adorned his chest were not just symbols of achievement, but trophies that spoke of undisputed authority and power. And then there was his face: handsome in an almost insulting way, as if nature itself had decided to give him everything it took to rule. “If Mrs. Inoue saw this, she would faint right here,” you thought wryly, while trying not to let your amazement be evident.

Unlike the rest of the room, they showed no fear. Not a hint of doubt was reflected on their faces as they saw you and Sukuna cross the threshold. Instead, they watched you with measured curiosity, almost as if they were sizing you up. It was a complete contrast to the palpable tension that filled the room. Here they were, the two monarchs of the Zen'in Kingdom, sitting on their thrones as if nothing in the world could touch them, not even the arrival of the King of Curses. And that, more than any murmurs or glances from the others, put you on alert to begin the real party.

"King and Queen Zen'in. It's a pleasure to meet you. We deeply appreciate your invitation," you said as you bowed respectfully to them, unlike Sukuna who only scrutinized them in the same way.

"It's about time. After years of sending the poor idiot Commander Naoya to deliver the invitations and not a clue given in return," King Toji laughed at the situation, cutting the tension in half as the rest of the party continued to watch the scene intently.

“It's a pleasure to meet you as well,” Queen Nozomi added.

“Let me tell you, you have a beautiful kingdom. It's so warm and vibrant, unlike Sukuna's kingdom,” you commented with a friendly smile.

That's how your plan began. The art of conversation. Starting a pleasant chat until you got to the information you wanted to get. You had no idea what information you wanted to get, so anything would be good.

“I'm glad you enjoy our architecture. The vast majority of our buildings are over 400 years old. A true heritage to our culture,” the queen replied elegantly.

Queen Zen'in was just as she appeared to be: charming, warm, and above all, exceptionally polite. Her voice, soft but clear, flowed with impeccable diction, as if each word was measured with precision. Her eloquence was enviable; a skill that you, despite the endless lessons Kenjaku gave you, could barely replicate without nervousness creeping into your tone.

The king, on the other hand, observed everything with a different attitude. His fixed and calculating gaze soon realized that the orchestra had stopped playing, the waiters remained in the kitchen, hesitating whether to come out or not, and the guests continued to look at the scene in disbelief. A slight snort escaped his lips, as if all that uncertainty was an unnecessary distraction.

“What are you waiting for to play?! This is a party! What?! Have you never seen a curse before?!” Toji scolded everyone. Even you felt scolded.

The orchestra, without further delay, began to play again, its notes breaking the silence that had filled the room. People returned to their conversations as if nothing was happening, even though they could now only talk about what was right in front of their noses. The first meeting of King Ryomen and King Zen'in. Something that seemed impossible after a long history of enmity.

"Seriously, I'm very glad you came. This is a historic day!" Toji said excitedly.

"Let's get to the point. Why did you invite me? What do you want?" Sukuna answered coldly, causing the Zen'in kings to become dissatisfied.

"Oh... excuse him, King Sukuna is a very direct person," you said to dispel the tension.

"There's nothing to apologize for, young lady. I'm the same," King Toji told you. "I invited him for business, obviously."

Sukuna raised an eyebrow, becoming curious. That simple action, so subtle and loaded with meaning, only fueled his growing curiosity. What kind of business could King Toji be seeking with him? The very idea seemed absurd. It was unthinkable that a human being, whatever his status or power, would want to negotiate with someone like him. Sukuna, a curse of such magnitude, so distant from everything human, so imposing and destructive, could not understand what could lead a human king to even consider such a proposal. But something in the king's gaze, something in the calm with which he had made his offer, told him that there was more than met the eye. And that "more" was precisely what kept him on edge.

"Why don't we talk about it in private? The sooner we talk about it, the quicker we can get back to the party, right?" King Toji stood up from his seat. Sukuna gave you a look to be alert outside his presence.

Toji led him down a hallway, leaving the party behind. People were dancing harmoniously to the song with great elegance and joy on their faces. Under the bright chandeliers, around the soft music and on the beautiful marble floors. The piano sounded harmoniously in your ears. You smiled at the sight of the pianist, the star of the show, playing his master instrument while his body couldn't help but move to the beat. You wanted to join the dance floor already.

"Why don't you take a seat?" Nozomi offered you the king's seat when she saw you standing.

"The throne? No, I couldn't," you refused flatly.

"Oh, come on. The queen is ordering you to." Nozomi told you sweetly. Since you didn't want to offend the queen, you sat on the great throne. "Tell me, what exactly are you to King Sukuna?" She asked you curiously.

"His servant. He only invited me so he wouldn't arrive alone. What kind of king would arrive alone to a high society ball?" You said as if he had forced you to come.

"No... You're not just his servant." Nozomi smiled at you with a certain mischief in her eyes. Your heart skipped a beat in your chest. "You're his lover, aren't you?"

"H-how did you realize?", you asked while you thought: "Great, I went from servant to sex object.”

"You can see it in his eyes. It's easy to notice when he has four," Nozomi joked, but then her expression turned nostalgic. "He reminds me of my Toji, he had that same look when we were dating. King Sukuna is completely in love with you."

You quickly realized that she didn't mean "lover" in the vulgar sense of the word. But in the romantic sense. You had noticed it too, that was why it was so easy to sweet-talk him with the technique Yorozu had taught you. The problem now wasn't with him, but...

"The real question is, what do you feel for him?" Nozomi inquired, thinking she would make you blush in embarrassment.

"I love him," you admitted seriously, surprising the queen suddenly. "But, I can't allow it. He's a damn tyrant," you said, holding your skirt in anger.

You had accepted, albeit silently, that you were in love with him. You had known it long before you dared to admit it. You looked for any excuse to be near him, to steal moments from him amidst his constant authority and his world of chaos. You strove to make him happy, to offer him the best of yourself, to be at his level and feel you could walk beside him with dignity. You loved him. There was no other way to describe what you felt. You had loved him even before you realized it, perhaps even before he, with his cold, but undeniable determination, had first proposed to you.

There was something about him that captured you, something that made you feel alive, that lit a fire inside you that no one else could awaken. The way he managed to surprise you, how he saw something unique in you, how he treated you with a delicacy that clashed with his brutal nature, all of that made you think no one else in the world could compare to him. He had transformed you, not only into who you were now, but into someone who had learned to desire, to yearn, to need.

But there was a dark weight to that love. His actions, often cruel and vile, were a poison that ate away at the foundations of what you felt. Over and over you found yourself caught between two extremes: the man who made you feel like a precious flower and the tyrant who destroyed without mercy. That duality tore you apart inside.

And then you wondered: Was it really love? Did you love him for who he was, completely, with his virtues and his monsters? Or had you simply fallen under the spell of his attention, the way he made you feel wanted, special? Was it love or a disguised obsession, born from his ability to fill every empty corner of your heart? That doubt, always present, was the crack in your passion. Maybe, what you felt for him was not as pure as you liked to believe.

“Such a dilemma,” Nozomi whispered beside you.

“Sure it is,” you nodded.

“You remind me of myself when I first started dating Toji. I loved him, but I was too afraid to get close because he was a strong commander and the heir to the throne, while I was just selling bread.” Nozomi scratched the back of her neck, somewhat embarrassed to admit it.

She told you her love story with a warmth in her voice that seemed to envelop every word. It was simple, almost like a tale that could have been lost between the pages of a forgotten book, but in her eyes shone the intensity of something unique.

“I was just a countryside girl,” she began, with a nostalgic smile.

Nozomi worked as a delivery girl at the family bakery, bringing freshly baked breads to the castle every two days, always before breakfast. Her routine was simple, almost monotonous, but she had a secret that made those trips special. From the courtyard, she could see young Prince Toji getting ready for the day through his window. Her eyes always ended up looking for him between the huge windows. One day, driven by a mixture of nerves and bravery, she timidly waved at him. Against all odds, he returned the gesture, but not in an indifferent way, but with a flirtatious smile that made her heart beat faster.

From then on, every morning, the same scene was repeated. Week after week, Toji began to wait for her at the same window, as if the day could not begin without that brief exchange. And then, after months of silent greetings and furtive glances, the king finally took the next step. He waited for her in the kitchen, a place where the walls of royalty seemed to crumble, to meet her face to face.

In the middle of her story, Nozomi's stomach began to hurt. Quickly, you approached to try to assist her, but she gestured to you that she was fine.

"This pregnancy is really testing my patience," She joked softly.

“Are you pregnant?” You asked, surprised you didn’t notice before.

“I’m barely two months pregnant,” she commented. “Do you want to feel?”

On the opposite side of the castle, hidden in the shadows of the maze of vines, a commander and a young woman who the former only known for a few hours were in a scene that was far from anything romantic. He was kissing her aggressively, squeezing her breasts tightly and possessing her ass as if she were nothing, just another toy in his collection. The poor girl was screaming in pain, but she didn’t push him away as she was dealing with the attractive Naoya Zen’in. The brightness of Naoya’s position and his almost perfect face seemed to override any desire to defend herself, even as her moans of pain mixed with the whispers of the wind in the labyrinth.

For Naoya, this was simply an empty ritual, another distraction in the middle of a busy and frenetic life. As a commander, he rarely had moments to “relax”, and these events became the perfect excuse for his personal hunt. There were always women willing to fall into his trap, fascinated by his lineage and his looks. But to him, they were interchangeable, ephemeral toys that lost their luster in a matter of minutes.

This one, in particular, was so boring that she seemed more like a rag doll than a companion. Not even her screams or her dedication could hold his interest. With a mix of contempt and disgust, he pushed her aside as if she were a used garment, leaving her there, alone and humiliated. The young woman called out to him, her voice cracking with confusion and pain, but Naoya had already left, ignoring her pleas with devastating indifference.

With a cynical smile and the air of someone who knows he can get away with anything, Naoya appeared back in the ballroom. His superhuman speed made him stand to the epicenter of the party in the blink of an eye. He adjusted his uniform, impeccable despite his recent “amusements” and let his gaze wander around the room, looking for a new victim to pass the time. It was then that something caught his attention. Amidst a sea of ​​white dresses, a flash of crimson glowed like a living flame.

“What the fuck…?” He whispered angrily to himself.

There you were, the damned servant who had the nerve to shoot an arrow through his back, chatting calmly with Queen Nozomi. The two of you were laughing, as if you were old friends sharing a secret, with your hands holding her belly in a relaxed posture, as if you didn’t have a care in the world. And worst of all, you were sitting on the king’s throne, with a naturalness and impudence that stabbed a pain in his chest.

He strode forward, every movement emanating suppressed fury, as his teeth ground together with each step. His gaze fixed on you was all it took to make the air in the room thick, tense. When he finally stood before you, his presence was imposing, charged with a silent rage that only someone like him could possess.

“What the fuck are you doing here?! Get your stupid ass up!” Naoya grabbed your arm to pull you off the throne.

“Commander Naoya!” Nozomi scolded him. “I asked her to sit down!” She defended you.

“No, Queen Zen’in. It was my fault, I shouldn’t have agreed in the first place,” you said to calm the waters. “See you again, Commander Naoya.” You greeted him with a bow.

“And what a horrible sight you look like,” Naoya replied, crossing his arms.

“And that’s why it’s not good to see you again.” You mimicked his stance.

“There, there.” Queen Nozomi stood up from her seat to scold the two of them. “Now King Toji is making a deal with King Sukuna. If all goes well, it means we’ll see each other more often. You two should try to be friends,” she said with a friendly smile.

“Friend of this disgusting maid? I’d rather die,” Naoya muttered, to which Nozomi gave him a smack.

“Enough!”

The room erupted in applause as the last note of the song faded into the air. The musicians, after a brief sigh of rest, prepared to begin the next number: The Phantom Waltz. An ethereal and moving melody, so perfect in its complexity, it felt as if time itself vanished in its lullaby. You knew it almost by heart; It was one of the first pieces you had tried to play on the piano, though its difficulty had led you to look for something simpler to begin practicing without ever losing the desire to master it one day.

The queen, noticing your gaze fixed on the musicians and the slight glint of recognition in your eyes, smiled to herself. A flash of cunning crossed her face, as if she had just conceived an idea that could change the course of the night.

“Commander Naoya, invite the young lady to dance,” Nozomi ordered.

“What?!” They both objected.

“Do you really want to disobey the queen?” She raised her eyebrow in threat. Naoya sighed dramatically in surrender. He knew his cousin would kick his ass if he disobeyed. You felt like you no longer had a say in the situation.

“You better know the steps,” Naoya took your hand before pulling you onto the dance floor. You looked at Nozomi with pitying eyes, but she only gave you a thumbs up in good luck.

Naoya held you by the waist firmly, his fingers gripping as if claiming something that never belonged to him. His posture was rigid, clearly making it known that this dance was not a gesture of courtesy, but a display of control and superiority. Wasting no time, you adjusted yourself into position, placing your hand on his shoulder, while his other hand maintained its possessive grip. Without a word, the two of you began to move, merging with the stream of dancers who twirled to the beat of the waltz.

The steps were fluid, perfectly synchronized with the music, but there was a palpable distance between you. Each of you looked in the opposite direction, like two children caught in an awkward interaction, pretending not to notice the other's closeness. Naoya kept his expression of bored arrogance, while you tried to keep your composure despite the surrounding gazes.

The ladies in the hall watched you with a mix of jealousy and resentment, whispering behind decorated fans. For them, you were an intruder in their territory, a mere stranger, occupying a place they believed was reserved for one of them: the arm of the young commander of the Zen'in. But, despite their obvious disdain, you couldn't ignore how some envied the attention he bestowed on you, even if it was laced with barely concealed condescension.

“They really hate you,” Naoya mocked you.

“Let them keep doing it,” you said indifferently.

“Hey, just because you have a dress that stands out from the others, doesn't mean you do. You're still a useless servant of a disgusting curse.” His intentions were clear. He was trying to annoy you as much as possible, but you wouldn't let him.

“I don’t care about in the slightest what a stupid, pedantic commander thinks.” Your partner smiled with satisfaction.

“Oh, honey... I know I'm the worst,” Naoya whispered in your ear. “But I still have status, strength and a face carved by angels.”

“By demons, you mean,” you replied quickly.

“You can pretend all you want, but I know you're melting being so close to me.”

“I better go back to the damn hell where you came from,” you whispered to him so no one would hear you.

Naoya smiled, enjoying the spectacle of your frustration. For him, your emotions were a toy, something delicate and easy to manipulate, and he did it with the same ease with which a cat plays with a mouse. The song reached its last beat, marking the perfect moment to execute the final twist: a tip. An opportunity that he, of course, planned to use for his own entertainment. 

Even though he didn't consider you the most beautiful woman in the kingdom, there was something about you that intrigued him. Maybe your resilience, your stubbornness, or simply the challenge you represented. His eyes briefly lingered on your lips, tempting and painted in such a deep red that they seemed like a beacon calling to him. Yes, he had already decided.

"Wait... He wants to...?" you thought, confused, noticing the direction of his gaze. It was absurd. What kind of man enjoys irritating a woman and then pretends to kiss her like it was nothing? It was clear you had to act quickly. The music was ending, and Naoya, confident in his ability to get his way, already had the plan outlined in his mind: a smooth and controlled movement, lower your body elegantly and seal the moment with an unexpected kiss in front of the crowd. He was so sure of himself that the sparkle of triumph was already appearing in his eyes.

But you weren't willing to be part of his game. As he moved his hand down your back, preparing to execute the final twist, you took control. With a calculated move, you slid your arm behind his back and, in one swift movement, pushed him off balance. Before he could react, you lightly kicked his foot, destabilizing him. In the blink of an eye, it was him who fell towards you, caught in your arms.

The entire room held its breath, surprised by the unexpected twist. You had made the perfect tip, but with Naoya in the role he would never have imagined: vulnerable and at your mercy. His arrogance was now replaced by a mix of disbelief and a spark of irritation. But you only smiled, triumphant, making it clear that you were not a piece on his board, but a player on yours.

“Look who’s melting now,” you whispered to him as his lips were just inches away.

Naoya had never felt so humiliated, embarrassed, angry, blushing, aroused… His emerald eyes were in shock that his heart was racing as fast as him. No, this couldn’t be happening to him. He was Commander Naoya of the great Zen’in nation, he couldn’t fall under the charms of a maid. A maid who stood up to him. A maid who beat his speed. A maid in a beautiful red dress. A beautiful maid… The applause at the end of the song submerged you, but you didn’t raise it. You wanted to make him suffer a couple more seconds. Naoya parted his lips thirstily, but you weren’t going to give him a drop of yourself.

The trumpets began to sound again, just in time. Someone important had arrived. You reluctantly picked Naoya up and moved away from him to make way on the dance floor. He backed away, confused, lost in the chaos of his emotions. The people around you gasped at the sight of who was in the Zen'in Kingdom, lining up so they could reach Queen Nozomi easily. You felt like you did when you were a maid, lining up against the wall to greet Sukuna.

“Here they are, King Kento Nanami of the Nanami Kingdom and King Satoru Gojo of the Gojo Kingdom!” They announced.

You were stunned to see the kings enter the hall, their presences capturing every glance. “Why are all the kings so handsome?” you thought, almost offended by the injustice of their beauty. First there was Sukuna, with his lethal and magnetic aura; then Suguru Geto, enigmatic and imposing. Then, Toji Zen'in with his great musculature. Now, King Nanami and King Gojo seemed to raise the standard even higher.

King Nanami was a work of perfection: tall, blond, with an impeccable bearing that seemed sculpted for a royal portrait. His navy blue military uniform, adorned with medals, reflected his discipline and elegance. His perfectly coiffed hair and shiny shoes made him look like the ideal dream husband, the kind of man every mother would want for her daughter. His seriousness only amplified his attractiveness, as if every gesture of his was a poem of sobriety and strength.

And then there was King Gojo, your sister hadn’t lied. King Gojo was prettier than her.. His snow-white hair shone under the lights, and his flawless skin had a glow that defied all logic. He wore a white yukata with traditional patterns of the Gojo kingdom that made him look even more ethereal. The blindfold covering his eyes only added to an air of mystery, though it couldn’t hide his colossal presence. If Naoya was a devil made flesh, Gojo seemed to have descended straight from heaven.

Both kings advanced through the hall, their steps filled with a natural majesty. Those present fell into a collective bow, bowing deeply to their authority. Naoya, who had known both of them for years, was already ready to greet them with that friendly arrogance he reserved only for his equals. But he stopped short when he noticed that Gojo had changed direction, advancing directly towards you.

Nanami also stopped, his gaze shifting to where his colleague directed his attention. Suddenly, you felt as if the surrounding air was compressed. Halfway into your bow, you found yourself looking up, caught up in the curiosity of the moment. A shiver ran down your spine at the strange feeling of déjà vu…

Gojo, with carefree ease, pulled the blindfold up to his forehead, revealing what could only be described as a pair of divine treasures: lapis lazuli blue eyes that seemed to hold the entire night sky within them. You were instantly mesmerized, your breath catching in your chest. “Those eyes!” you thought in awe, unable to look away. It was as if a spell had been cast on you, one impossible to break.

“Yorozu?” He asked you.

“Huh?”

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