#for something so ultimately mundane:

[rxttenfish]

Omg what DOES Aaravi do as a monster slayer?

the short answer is that it varies with how much of my own stuff im willing to bring in, im afraid

mostly im waffling back and forth on this point right now because if i was a little closer to monster prom canon i might be able to have more fun with it and include a wider variety of situations and it wouldnt be such a downer as it would be in the other case...

mostly, the thing that monster slayers are in the redesign universe is a hate group, plain and simple. a particularly violent and nasty one too, at that - they're focused primarily out of human-majority societies and cultures that have much smaller minorities of other sophonts and/or that contact with those sophonts is new and recent, hence why there's such a strong sorting between "humans" and "monsters". "monsters" isn't a real category in any sense of the word, it's just a social marker for an out-group that is seen as particularly dangerous and frightening and, thus, "not normal". this is also why it doesn't really specify between monsters that are sophonts and monsters that are just normal animals...

primarily this hate group arose out of existing environmental/hunting groups, semi similar to things like forest rangers, and has even common ancestry with witches (or, one of the definitions of "witch"... witch can refer to a human with some innate workable magic, witch can refer to anyone who works with/studies magic as a job, or witch can refer to a supernatural concept/creature which is basically just the trope we have of the witch, as any malignant supernatural person who uses that supernatural prowess for evil. this is different from magic, because magic in this universe is just... another Thing That Exists, not necessarily any different from, say, engineering as a job or study, and belief in the impossible and supernatural is of course going to exist unrelated to that).

as in, there's a fairly universal need in most communities to be able to manage magic somehow. usually there's wildlife or plants that have their own innate pools of workable magic, and those need to be treated and handled differently as a different form of danger in the world, or there's magical aquifers locally, which means that all of that magic is just available as free energy to be used by anyone who has the chance to grab it, and if workable pools of magic aren't regularly maintained to recycle the magic that makes it up, then it can build up wild magic and tends to explode particularly dangerously... so you need someone who has learned how to deal with all of that, and so you get the origins of witches, and the origins of other people specializing to deal in magic and magic-heavy things, and from that you get people specialized in hunting or otherwise managing animals that utilize magic in their biology in some way.

(which, to be fair, nearly everything on this alternate earth is, in some way. magic really is just... free energy for anyone who can grab a little of it, and most life will be able to at least do a little bit of that. humans are a prime example, since even non-innate magic users will still hold and maintain very small pools of magic internally, utilized primarily for metabolism and to offer a slight boost to the immune system and other such things. this is even what souls and ghosts are - just the pools of magic inside of a person that can get shaken loose through particularly traumatic events, although the systems that lead to ghosts are poorly understood (and also different from a soul, the animating supernatural concept... theres a lot of confusing terminology in this universe, and i do that on purpose). it's just that species that either live in or around magical aquifers or are uniquely adapted for it that are magic specialists, where it makes up a much larger part of their biology, and who cannot live without that magic. a human without magic might just be slightly immunocompromised, a demon without magic is dead!)

this is where you get monster slayers, though. because they were a specific movement within this larger group of people who focus on magical life, where they particularly focused on the danger posed by magic specialist wildlife during a time when nonhuman sophonts were being introduced to and "challenging" the dominant culture where they came from, and ended up connecting the two. it's a purposefully very messy grouping without a lot in common other than this specific group targeting them, and their primary goals might be similar to creating and enforcing a human-only community devoid of large, dangerous wildlife around that area that could possibly injure someone. the fact that this also ends up targeting a lot of disabled humans (vampires, zombies, etc, they're just humans who have a specific magic-derived "virus". there's very few benefits to this, it really is just a disability) isn't seen as a problem either in their eyes, mostly because they're also often stereotyped as being dangerous or endangering other people by their sheer presence, so they get sorted in with the other targeted groups as well.

there's also a lot of people and things that we have in real life that would get labelled "monsters" in this specific line of belief, even if i haven't gone into that as much, mostly because i worry that people will think that because i'm writing aaravi as sympathetic that i'm supporting her beliefs or the beliefs of monster slayers too - or that, again, i'm still just in the awkward middle ground where i'm not sure how much i want to go into this and REALLY kill the mood.

(also, because it does kind of miff me when people write fantasy settings but provide some kind of distinction between real wildlife and fantasy monsters in a way that shouldn't actually exist in that fiction. lions and tigers and bears should be considered just as dangerous and frightening as any speculative creatures you put in your work, especially when there's not any one unique feature that tidily separates the world into "animals" and "wildlife". hell this is even what i try to get at with my merfolk, since they really aren't any different from humans, as just another naturally formed sapient animal species.)

and, to be clear, i WANT this to be upsetting. it shouldn't be something comfortable or easy to talk about, let alone witness. it's something that also has to be seen and judged and understood in order to understand aaravi herself, just as much as how you can't understand miranda unless you understand what it actually means for her to be a genocidal monarch who expresses ultimate control over anyone who happens to be under her and is willing to do anything to maintain control in the groups of her equals. for both of them, they're supposed to equally be representative of those who suffer by and under the system they are a part of (aaravi is not allowed to leave the monster slayers even if she wanted to, her being discovered as half-human would mean her potentially being targeted and killed and her family potentially also targeted for association, having her entire self worth tied to her ability to lose her own personhood and perpetuate violence that no one else is capable of or wants to do, or else be blamed as the reason why innocent people get hurt and killed), while also actively perpetuating it (both have a vitriolic hatred of anyone who either "can't do their job correctly" or "isn't hard enough to withstand the pressures of their job", aaravi especially targets and is quick to punish other slayers to try and cover her also being "part monster", she upholds and feels incredibly defensive over her family name and how great her family was at being slayers, she hunts and kills a lot of other people just for them not being human that makes them even more guarded and scared of humans and more likely to retaliate in order to try and keep themselves safe, which also means its harder for anyone else to stop being a monster slayer because even more taboo gets connected to them or being one).

a prime example is actually her grandma, who is still around. aaravi's from a line of monster slayers, which is to say her family was already in this hate group, they were born into it, and aaravi was just the latest in the long line of it all. her mom did work on trying to get out, did meet aaravi's dad and left to where no one else in the group knew where she was, where she could try to start anew and they wouldn't be able to find her, to have a family with someone who she had been taught to view as nothing but dangerous and frightening and not someone to be trusted... and then he turned out to be a garden variety asshole who just... left. never really was very interested in aaravi or salil, got bored with aaravi's mom once she tried settling down after getting out, didn't really do much to support her in trying to remake her life from a brand new foundation, and just left one day without a note or saying anything or anything at all, really.

all of which served as mundane trauma that pushed aaravi's mom back into the monster slayers even harder. it just confirmed a lot of old beliefs that she had burned into her mind after not really helping her to undo or confront them, and she had very little else left to go back to, and she had two kids now that if anyone else learned were the result of her having a tyst with a monster would get hurt and killed as much as she would, serving as a representation of the mistake that had just been confirmed in her mind as such.

it's why it came down on salil so much harder than aaravi, and why aaravi looking so nearly human is so important for the way the story functions. aaravi got pushed harder and harder to both try and make up for her mother's mistake, pushed to become another monster slayer and pushed even harder to be a GOOD one that would be great enough to make up for all that her mother had done while still living up to the legacy that her mom could only think of herself as having ruined, to shove all her monster parts into a deep dark little box that she would never tell anyone else about, who was told over and over how dangerous it was and what would happen if this got out. but salil... salil is much more obviously inhuman, much more obviously something that she can't hide or obscure, and so salil kind of...

well, already their mom was reverting hard onto "all monsters are dangerous and cannot be trusted and NONE of them are EVER going to be good, only lie about it to hurt you even worse", and there was a lot harder... fear, from her, that he picked up on. really, both of them picked up on it, and still aaravi doesn't know and is terrified of the possibility that their mom was scared of them, or thought that they would hurt her, or even outright hated them for being monsters. and because salil was much more obvious about it, a lot more got targeted and felt by salil, a lot more their mom tried a lot less with him, a lot more she just tried to hide him in the house and not tell anyone about him or that he existed. its why when he ran away one night, it was very easy for her to come to the conclusion that he had been found and killed by monsters, and it was very easy for that belief to be passed onto aaravi.

it's also why aaravi's grandma has such a... particular situation. she was also such a prominent monster slayer within that community and group for so long, and so many of the leaders within the community think back fondly of her, but its this very same reason that she can't talk about the amount of doubt she's also felt about it, the mounting regrets and guilt that has built up, the knowledge of what happened to her daughter and to her grandkids, and the knowledge that she can't really DO anything to help it either, even AS someone who holds such an esteemed position and even BECAUSE of it. she's effectively just built up more and more distance from the community over time, isolated herself more and more from these old friends of hers, gone quietly silent in her old age, but its also why shes never been able to fully shake it, and why that connection STILL exists and shes STILL expected to uphold it when it does. she's older than she used to be, more vulnerable, and she has a granddaughter who doesn't have a mom or a dad anymore to look after her, who is at least part of what monster slayers want to exterminate, and there's a lot at stake here that she just can't make herself risk.

so, yeah... i hope this provides a little bit of clarity as to what aaravi in the full redesign verse being a monster hunter MEANS and what she does, because it's not... very pretty, really.

if i write it, i'll likely end up focusing more on the animal side of it, least of all because i can't see aaravi taking miranda on a hunt for a person, but also because it adds in more layers of aaravi feeling disingenuous and doubting herself. she feels like she's lying to miranda, making it more palatable, more acceptable, than it really is, not showing her the full thing and letting herself be judged as is, but also aaravi is ABSOLUTELY not prepared for that conversation and doesn't know how to breach the subject of "i'm basically a serial killer for hire" with miranda, and is equally as scared by the thought of what if miranda actually DOESN'T have a problem with that and doesn't react. but it's also just close enough to still hit that uncomfortable realm with aaravi, just close enough to killing a person that she keeps seeing herself in the eyes of the wildlife, doesn't know which end of the gun she's more scared of being on and doesn't know how to handle any of it.

[aeide-thea]

so i was like 'i could swear i didn't feel this hideously dysphoric last summer, wtf is my dealio lately!!' and finally it occurred to me, 'okay, fine, let's maybe try putting on one of the ribbed men's tanks i wore religiously all last summer instead of the women's technical tops i've been wearing lately, and see what effect that has,' and. yeah. fuck. 🤦

it really is like. every! damn! season! i get seduced into thinking maybe i can wear just a little bit of reasonably-unfeminine women's clothing, and the idea is appealing because i'm actually comfortably encompassed by that size range, whereas with men's shirts i often ideally would wear an XS but can't get one—and yes, boys' stuff exists and i do ever wear it, but sometimes you're in the market for stuff that's slightly higher spec than anyone bothers to make for kids, you know? but anyway it's just so reliably the case that like. every fucking time i'm like, okay, sure, let's try a little womenswear, it turns out that i can bear it for a little while and then i realize something about it is making me fucking crazyyyyyy. >:|

sux bc the problematic batch of tanktops is like. such a good light comfortable wicking all-natural fabric! that's why i wanted them and they're everything i hoped they would be! and they're genuinely not even overtly feminine! but the straps are just a little too narrow and the cut is just a little too )ᓑ( and it's like. in some contexts those things are bearable, but in others they're really just. Bad, it turns out. :(

anyway they are sufficiently slouchy that in theory i could probably just, like, do some aftermarket alterations to improve the shape??? like i think i really just need them to be, you know, simple tubes straight up and down and not the vaguely /ᓑ\ shape they currently are, which in theory ought to be simple enough to achieve (especially since they're also a little long, so i could just hem them straight and stop worrying about how to factor in the vaguely high-low thing that's also happening). however. probably NOT realistic to do by hand (like. if nothing else i just don't have the patience) and while there is a sewing machine kicking around here somewhere i absolutely don't remember how to use it and do live in fear of it (i just have like. vague recollections of various Mysterious Snarls back in the day). so. idk. blergh, argh, etc.

(i assume 4p would just be like 'try it! learn as you go!' and like. honestly that's fair and maybe i even will, i think the manual is also kicking around actually, but. would prefer to have it magically sorted. :/ like, sometimes you just want a wardrobe and not a project, you know??)

[personapeters]

✰ 𝐛𝐟!𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐱 𝐩𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞!𝐠𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

— rich boyfriend rafe and his whole heartedly pogue girlfriend

rating: sfw — cw: none

— boyfriend!rafe who… actually gets annoyed when you spend your money instead of his: “look, baby, i know you can but why when i’m literally throwing my card at you?” he questioned. “i’m not taking it, rafe,” you rebutted. “yeah? okay, don’t,” he mumbled, casually dropping a banded stack of cash onto your lap.

— boyfriend!rafe who… absolutely judged a book by it’s cover when you first met, knowing you were from a side of town he didn’t favor, but your beauty was something he couldn’t ignore. though, his outlook barely shifted; technically, not all pogues were trash, but he considered you to be the one and only exception.

— boyfriend!rafe who… is used to getting what he wants, so he was highly taken aback when you declined his first offer to go out. it was new and completely foreign, but it only made him want you even more — he’s always had a desire to obtain the ‘unobtainable’

— boyfriend!rafe who… caught so much shit from topper and kelce when they found out about his relationship with a pogue; so much so that rafe almost fought them over it, telling them to ‘get the fuck over it’ and to never speak on you again.

— boyfriend!rafe who… on occasion would reluctantly let your pogue friends go out on his yacht with the two of you for the day, which ultimately would end with him dropping them off an hour (or four) early. he wants them miles away from his pristine boat but loves how happy you look when you were all together.

— boyfriend!rafe who… hears you mention liking something once and makes sure it’s in your hands before the following day ends. they were always simple things like a cute t-shirt or sunglasses, which, to him, were so cheap and mundane that he found it rather adorable when you’d cherish them like literal gold.

— boyfriend!rafe who… isn’t too fond of where you live — your house being small, somewhat falling apart, and overall something far below rafe’s standards. he wishes you’d take him up on his offer to simply get you an apartment on his side of town: “okay, but it’d be so much better for you… and you’d be closer to me,” he mumbled, a small smile pulling at the corners of his pink lips.

— boyfriend!rafe who… takes you riding on his dirt bike to go sightseeing across figure eight, often taking the long way home just to feel your arms wrapped around his waist for just a little longer. you once asked if you could drive it, which would have been your first time, to which he immediately said, “fuck no, what — you tryin’ to break your neck? no.”

— boyfriend!rafe who… tried his first ever boxed mac and cheese with you, as random as it was, after you insisted it’s the greatest inexpensive food on earth; him beforehand saying, “what? y/n, that’s fucking powder…” but after he tried a bite of yours, he reluctantly said, “it’s not that bad… i might see the appeal.”

— boyfriend!rafe who… gives you ‘ultimatums’ when buying you clothes (although, you always insist you don’t need them), saying he’ll get you whatever you want as long as you try on some of his picks first. he would have gotten whatever you wanted regardless, he just liked seeing you model for him, which, secretly, you knew.

— boyfriend!rafe who… buys you extremely expensive jewelry and lies about the price, saying it’s a hundred times cheaper than it is to avoid you trying to give it back. he enjoys watching the dainty bracelet on your wrist or gold studs in your ears glint in the sunlight, knowing that you’re clueless on that fact that they’re the nicest money could buy — he needs only the best for his girl.

— boyfriend!rafe who… truly hated physical touch until you showed him it could be gentle — that it could be sweet, and warm, and kind, and didn’t have to leave him bloody or sore. he loves when you run your nails gingerly across his scalp or hold his hand in your lap, twisting absentmindedly at the rings adorning his long fingers; a type of touch (and love) he’d never felt before

— boyfriend!rafe who… craves your validation, no matter how big or small. he just needs to hear that he did something right, something good, something you’re proud of. he wants to hear you tell him he did a great job at making you dinner or picking out a dress for your spontaneous outings — your approval means so much more to him than you’d ever know.

— boyfriend!rafe who… uses his high status to (begrudgingly) help your pogue friends get out of whatever trouble they land themselves into, knowing it means alot to you and takes a weight off your shoulders: “m’doing this for you, alright? not them, you.”

— boyfriend!rafe who… is pretty heavy on pda. he doesn’t care whose watching when he lazily drapes a possessive arm around your shoulders, or when he kisses you messily with full force; whether it be a kook or pogue witnessing his shameless affections, he didn’t care — who’d dare to say something about it?

 personapeters 2024 — all rights reserved • masterlist

[sunderwight]

Headcanon that Shen Yuan was hotter than Shen Qingqiu, actually.

Like yeah SQQ being a cultivator gave him a boost to enough attributes + being in a stallion novel where everyone is either unrealistic hot or dog's butt ugly got the Shen Qingqiu body extra points, and he wasn't bad looking to begin with. Plus not being ill is vastly more important to the new Shen Qingqiu than those extra hotness points (Without a Cure notwithstanding). But part of the reason why he's kind of like, meh, at least I'm not hideous or anything, is because Shen Yuan's original body was a knock out.

I also like him as chronically ill, and, as many people know, beauty standards and sustained suffering are not as incompatible as they should be. Shen Yuan was conventionally attractive in part because conventional beauty standards seem to want everyone slowly dying all the time. But even setting that aside, the man had flawless bone structure, an appealing figure, captivating eyes, and the kind of voice that stopped people in their tracks.

All of which was a contributing factor to his antisocial lifestyle, actually. Despite the fact that Shen Yuan does enjoy company and requires a certain baseline of social enrichment for his enclosure, his internalized homophobia and closeting did not play well with overtures from interested parties (regardless of gender). The only way to minimize the odds of him being asked out on dates was to essentially become a shut-in, especially since even Shen Yuan can only make so many excuses before he himself starts to notice that he's going to a lot of effort to avoid specifically that avenue of socialization. Far better to just remove himself from any risk of it, and then vocally lament that oh no he's just too much of a nerd to get anywhere with women!

Anyway this largely doesn't matter much outside of sheer comedy potential for any situation where SY gets his old body/life back. Like imagine a reveal scenario where the System is going to transport them back to their old lives.

Shang Qinghua: well bro I guess this is gonna be the ultimate test of love, right?

Shen Yuan: what do you mean?

Shang Qinghua: our husbands are gonna see what we looked like back before we were glorious cultivators! they're going to have to track us down in our mundane, kinda shitty pre-transmigration lives! it's gonna be at least a little embarrassing, right?

Shen Yuan: *gets his old body back*

Shang Qinghua, normal human with average looks: ...

Shen Yuan, exemplary 11/10: ?

Shang Qinghua: what. the fuck?? bro what the fuck why are you hot???

Shen Yuan: don't make it weird

Shang Qinghua: make it weird??? why were you sitting at home reading my shitty novel when you could have been out there building your own harem???

Shen Yuan: stop exaggerating

Shang Qinghua: oh my god you've always been like this. this is it, isn't it? it wasn't even brain damage from the transmigration or something--

Shen Yuan: hey

Shang Qinghua: --you've just always been completely unaware, haven't you? every time I wrote a beautiful woman who didn't know her own appeal you'd be jumping down my throat--

Shen Yuan: because that's a stupid trope--!

Shang Qinghua: --JUMPING DOWN MY THROAT EXACTLY LIKE THAT but this whole time THIS WHOLE TIME it wasn't even a glow-up issue, you've just been that, personified, yourself--

Shen Yuan: look I know I'm not ugly but I'm not I'm hardly that good-looking

Shang Qinghua: YOU ARE NEVER ALLOWED TO CRITICIZE THAT TROPE AGAIN! oh my god. how many broken hearts did you leave behind when you died?!

Shen Yuan: none, I wasn't even seeing anyone--

Shang Qinghua: yeah full offense but I am nottt taking your word for that. I bet you had a harem you didn't know about in this lifetime too. I bet you had a fan club, like an anime prince

Shen Yuan: *mumbling*

Shang Qinghua: what was that?

Shen Yuan: I said... only in high school...

Shang Qinghua: oh my god

Shen Yuan: it wasn't a big deal!

Shang Qinghua: *frantically trying to see if he can find any trace of it on the internet now*

[solxamber]

Romance Clichés With: Kalim Al-Asim

Cliché: Been here all along

Others: Leona ; Azul ; Vil ; Idia ; Jamil ; Riddle

You and Kalim had a routine. Every so often, you’d sit him down and give him the ultimate spa treatment—fancy hand scrubs, oils, and finally, a glossy layer of nail polish. He’d become your cheerful test subject, and he loved it. Any chance to sit close to you and listen to your latest stories was pure gold for him.

Today, as you meticulously painted his nails in the prettiest shade of gold (because, really, what else for the heir of the Asim family?), you were in the middle of a rant. Kalim was sitting cross-legged across from you, his hands splayed out on a small towel between you, his smile broad and his attention entirely on you.

"And then," you continued, voice full of indignation, “Ace has the nerve to say, 'Maybe you just aren't good at picking teams.’ Like excuse me, who carried us in that last game?"

You didn’t catch the soft laugh he let out or the way his eyes never left your face. You were lost in your tirade, as he’d seen you get so many times. To Kalim, though, your frustration was the cutest thing he’d ever witnessed. He didn’t care if you were ranting about terrible teamwork or about Ace’s complete lack of respect for your skills; he just loved being here, with you, listening to every word you said.

“I mean, do I not deserve a little credit here?” you huffed, lifting his hand to blow lightly on his nails, setting the polish. “A little respect?”

“I respect you!” Kalim chimed in with all the enthusiasm in the world, his grin stretching even wider as you glanced up at him, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, you’re the only one apparently,” you teased, rolling your eyes. “Honestly, I don’t know how you put up with me sometimes. You’re a saint.”

Kalim giggled. “Aw, it’s easy. You’re, like, my favorite person in the world!” he replied, so naturally, as if he hadn’t just dropped a little confession right there in the open.

That made you pause. Something about his tone was so genuine, so incredibly warm, that you finally noticed the look on his face. Kalim was gazing at you with those big, sparkling eyes of his, his expression as open as the sky—completely adoring, soft and fond, like he was seeing every word you spoke as something precious. There was something in his smile, in the gentle way he watched you, that made your heart do a funny little flip.

“...Wait a minute,” you said, unable to tear your gaze away from him. “Are you actually serious?”

Kalim tilted his head, smile never wavering. “Of course I am!” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because…” You faltered, suddenly feeling a bit flustered. “I mean, you always seem so… I didn’t think you actually…”

Kalim’s face lit up, and he gave a little laugh, like he couldn’t believe you didn’t get it yet. “I think you’re incredible, you know that? You’re always there for everyone, even when they don’t deserve it. You’ve been here for me since day one,” he said, sounding almost in awe. “How could I not love you?”

For a second, you were speechless. Your mind raced, piecing together every look he’d ever given you, every laugh, every little moment you two had shared, and it all suddenly made sense. The way he was always so enthusiastic to spend time with you, the way he lit up when you entered the room, the way he seemed so content just sitting beside you while you went on about the most mundane things…

It was like a light bulb flickered on in your head. He’s… he’s loved me all along.

“Kalim,” you said softly, a bit of awe creeping into your voice, “I think I just realized that… I love you, too.”

Kalim’s smile widened, his eyes crinkling in pure joy. “Really?” he asked, like he’d won the lottery. “I’ve been waiting to hear you say that since forever!”

His joy was contagious, and before you knew it, you were grinning like an idiot, a warmth spreading through your chest. “Since forever, huh?” you teased, gently setting his hands down so you could lean in closer. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

He shrugged, giggling. “I was gonna! But I was waiting for the perfect moment.” He glanced at his freshly painted nails and then up at you with that boyish grin of his. “And hey, I think this turned out to be pretty perfect.”

You let out a laugh, both of you breaking into delighted smiles as you moved to take his hand in yours, his fingers still a little tacky from the polish. “You’re an absolute dork, you know that?”

“Maybe!” he agreed, shamelessly. “But I’m your dork now, right?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, but your heart was thumping wildly, and you knew there was no one else you’d rather be sitting here with, exchanging goofy smiles. “Yeah,” you admitted, leaning in to give him a gentle kiss on the cheek. “You’re my dork.”

Kalim let out a soft, dreamy sigh, tilting his head to look at you like you’d just promised him the world. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes half-lidded in bliss, and he practically melted beside you. “I can’t believe this is real…” he murmured, voice full of wonder.

“Oh, it’s real alright.” You gave his hand a squeeze, already thinking of all the things you wanted to do now that the truth was out. Date nights, laughing over silly things, maybe even bringing him along to rant to about every single Ace-induced annoyance. “We’re really doing this.”

And with one last look of pure adoration, Kalim leaned forward, grinning. “I’m so happy,” he whispered before pulling you into the warmest, most joyous hug you’d ever felt. You were both laughing, a perfect mess of feelings as you hugged him back, finally realizing you’d both been here all along, waiting for this exact moment.

Masterlist

[arthenaa]

my love mine all mine— mizu x f! reader

synopsis: marriage is nigh for someone your age and with society's expectations of you, how long will you have to keep waiting for him?

content: 18+ nsfw, mdni, angst w comfort, fluff, she/her pronouns for reader, he/she pronouns for mizu, patriarchal views on women, arranged marriage, jealousy, use of sex toys, idiots in love

a/n: part 2 of nocturne (interlude)!! this is for that anon who was on their finals week (ur req got deleted i h8 tumblr) and to those who requested for a part 2 !!! a reward for your hard work

Your relationship with Mizu was ... interesting.

After what happened that day, your relationship progressed into a deeper sense of connection. He was attracted to you as much as you were attracted to him. A fact that made your fingers tingle with anticipation every time he came down to your village under the guise of getting more medicine.

Your father had no complaints as business is business and provided him with what he needed, although you could see the occassional side eyes that your father gives him every time he stays longer than he was supposed to be. It was a comical sight indeed.

Mizu helped you out as much as he could—whether it be mundane house chores or taxing ones that require hard labor or a change of locations, he was down to accompany you in any way.

While yes, his efforts of providing you aid sent a surge of butterflies down your stomach, what ultimately led you to hammering a nail in the coffin was the subtle touches that he gave you.

You knew he knew and he knew that he was being smug about it. While it didn't show on his face, his eyes told it all. Whether it be passing by and gently placing a hand on the small of your back to excuse himself out of your way as if there wasn't a 2-meter space to your right or the brushing of fingers when he lent you something or if he's being bold enough, especially when your father's not looking, outright pretending that there was a fabric stuck on your hairpin and so he leans in close to you only to place a kiss on your cheek—he always has to have some sort of skinship with you during the day. It often left you struggling for words or having a flushed face.

"Dear," Your father furrows his eyebrows as he eyes your flushed cheeks. You tense in his gaze as he glances at Mizu who appears calm as he takes a sip of his drink. The blue-eyed samurai had done it again—saw an opening and took it like he was meant for it. He fooled you into thinking that your hair was out of place and offered to fix it. Your father had stepped out to get the food and you had hoped that he stayed somehow so that you wouldn't have to deal with all this bullcrap. Mizu took the chance to grab your chin and place a kiss on your lips. Your father came back shortly and you haven't relaxed since. "You don't look alright. Do you want me to—?"

"I-It's fine, Dad!" You intercept, hands raised as you shake no. "The soup was just... hot."

You glance at Mizu who looks at you from the side of his eye. He smirks over his cup.

It was safe to say that Mizu was also mischievous by nature. Despite his usual calm and cool demeanor, you didn't expect the man before you to be quite playful when it came to just between the two of you.

You did all these things, said all those things, looked at each other with things unspoken of and you're quite sure that your relationship was susceptible to the one thing you're quite sure would lead to.

Marriage.

A want for some, a necessity for many. You'd think that in your years of living in this town that you'd find a partner suitable for marriage and you did! Just a little bit later than others.

You had expected that... Mizu would propose. After all, what comes after dating but marriage? Your father and mother did that, your aunts, uncles, cousins, hell, even your friends already got married albeit some of them out of their own will.

You dreamed of having a true love marriage. One that you could be yourself and never have to be ashamed of loving someone despite their stature in life. One that you could coexist with and that could never demean your existence as a woman. You knew those things were far fetched from reality but everyone wishes to dream right?

You had tried discreetly asking about it, curious as to why he barely mentions anything but he only casts you an unreadable look on his face then a soft smile.

He kissed the back of your hand with a gentle touch, softness mirroring that of a snowflake's descent.

"... I can't," He says. You're not sure as to why he sounded in pain, like something was troubling him but you knew better than to pry. "Not right now."

So you let it go.

It was times like this that you felt the other half of the relationship. Like there was still a barrier you couldn't decipher between you. Why he often looks secretive with your father at times or why he falls silent at the most random of moments. There was something you didn't know and it often aches you that you couldn't be able to understand him unless you knew the inner workings of his mind.

The first instance that brought up the onslaught of problems that would soon arise was the arrival of a proposal from the south. It came in the form of a letter, writings neatly imprinted on fine parchment—rolled with the delicacy that of a noble.

You could see your father's nervous glance as the messenger read what was sent to him. You could hear bits and pieces of the arrangement, hands wringing each other in anxiety as your eyes trained on your father's back. Mizu had not arrived that day and normally, you would fret over such things but your father casts a glance at you over his shoulder and suddenly everything seems to have changed its course.

"Father," You pant as you gather the ends of your kimono, trying to match the pace of your patriarch as he travels all over the house. He seems to not be at rest from the talk with the messenger—a perpetual stone-cold look plastered on his face. "Father!"

He enters the part of your house you haven't gone to in ages. Not because you despised it but because you were afraid that the spirit that once dwelled in its abode would arise and look at you with those same eyes that once held all the love and memories when you were but a wee girl. You hesitate at the entrance but decide to follow him through.

"Not right now, Y/N," He mumbles, agitated as he crouches over a chest and begins digging through the array of clothes. Your eyebrows furrow.

"What—What did he say?" You stammer as you stand to his left, eyes watching his every move as he frantically rummages through the fabrics. "Father, I have—I need to know."

Your father pauses, defeatedly slumping against the chest as his fingers tap against the wooden surface in thought. Silence ensues between the two of you and suddenly he turns to you with a sympathetic look on his face. Your blood runs cold.

"Lord Shimizu—" He pauses, catching himself stammering as he looked into those eyes that were fruition of shared dreams and a love he hasn't forgotten in ages. "He asked for your hand in marriage."

You stare at him with a shaky gaze, breath going in and out as you tried to process his response.

"Then-Then tell him no," Your eyebrows furrow. Your father falls silent at your words. "Tell him like you've always told the others."

"I can't, Y/N," He whispers, tone shifting into despair. Your shoulders are low as he lowers his head in shame.

"What do you mean you can't?"

"I can't," He emphasizes his words once more, eyes darting up to meet yours. "I have always tried to protect you but I can't this time."

Your face falls in desperation as you kneel down with him. You grab his hands in an attempt to convince him once more.

"Father, please, I can't—I don't even know him!" You plead as your grip on his callous fingers tightens. He looks at you with sadness. "Please Father, I'll do anything, just don't—"

"Y/N," He cuts you off with a stern voice. You fall silent as you wait for his response. "This man is from Kyoto. While the men here fear my stature as a medic, this man has access to professionals far greater than me. He doesn't regard me as someone important and if I dare raise my voice, we might as well be dead."

Your figure tenses at his words. He grabs your arms in an attempt to comfort you. In a last attempt to get him to decline the offer, you say the thoughts that have been at the forefront of your mind.

"I'm in love with Mizu," Your voice comes out in a whisper, eyes wide and tears welling up. He tenses at your confession, eyebrows furrowing at the implications.

"You—"

"Father, I love him." Your voice comes out in a desperate attempt to get him to see you. Your hands raise to touch his arm but he suddenly raises to his feet, taking a few steps back. Your heart speeds up at his reaction.

"Is that why he—?" Your father whispers out in thought. You're not sure if he was angry or disappointed, but you're quite sure that this was a bad thing. His face contorts into a look of anger as he continues to look at you with a hardened gaze. "When was this?"

"You told me you wanted me to have a true love marriage, Father—This is it!" You look up at him with a defiance so strong that it almost gives your father a whiplash of how similar it looked. He falters in his stance but remains rooted to his cause.

"I know but not to—!" He catches himself at the end of his sentence. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. He runs a hand through his face before sighing. "Not like this. Not to him. Not Mizu, Y/N."

Your eyebrows furrow in anger at his words. "You can't dictate what I feel for him."

There's a moment of silence as your father casts you an unreadable look on his face. You thought that your father might approve of Mizu. They after all started at the same steps and eventually grew to the path they were destined for, albeit in different fields. You're not quite sure as to what led to this defiance against your choice for marriage but it already has you intruiged.

"The messenger talks of praises of Lord Shimizu," Your father diverts the conversation. "I also hear that he is a general and part of the Emperor's Kingsguard. He is of noble stature and earned his keep. He is a man fitting of your deserving."

You fall silent at his words before finally rising to your height and dusting off your kimono. You glance at the chest, eyeing the white fabric that pops out of an array of multicolored ones. You turn back to your father.

"You raised me to not be a hypocrite," Your voice is stone cold. Your father flinches at the tone. "I expected you to not be one as well."

With that you left.

The days were grueling.

Presents after presents were sent to your doorstep and while you wish that you could throw them all away, your father accepted them and kept them in the storage, still neatly wrapped for you to open.

Mizu had also arrived less and less over the past couple of days. He usually stays for more than an hour but now he leaves within the 30-minute mark. You felt like your time had been severed into bits and pieces after your fight with your father. You saw them talking, hushed in the receiving area. You expected your father to berate him for influencing his own daughter but their relationship remained civil. In fact, after his talk with your father was what prompted fewer visits and only coming for business.

He also became distant. Little to no skinship—sometimes even none at all. He talks to you in that cold tone of his and even grunts in annoyance when you try to bother him into coming with you to window shop in town.

You thought they were being unfair. That they could freely do things like this beyond your knowledge. Watch you crumble into a pit of despair at the concept of what you believed was the essence of true love. How naïve were you.

The final straw came when Mizu stayed a little bit longer than usual. He was swift with his purchase but remained seated at the tree located just outside your humble abode.

You approached him with soft steps, eyes trained on his head devoid of his kasa and the usual orange tinted glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He looked handsome.

"Why are you like this?" Your voice cuts through the silence, direct and swift as a breeze passes through you. You see the familiar curl on his forehead, swishing back and forth before settling down.

Mizu does not reply for a few seconds before finally responding. "Like what?"

Your breath shakes at his nonchalance. "Like everything's back from the start."

Mizu pauses before turning his head to look at you standing behind him. There's a long duration of silence between you, eyes only locked with each other as the breeze fills in the void.

"Y/N," Your name escapes his lips like a prayer. You will yourself not to fold. "I didn't mean to—"

"Didn't mean to what?"

He rises up from his seat on the ground, grabbing his Kasa in the process. He examines the item, eyeing the material woven intricately to form its shape. You could tell that there were a lot of things in his mind. You could only wait until he decided to break down the walls he built up so high.

"I didn't mean it to be this way." He finally looks at you in the eye, those beautiful shades of blue hidden by a tint of orange. He pauses himself before a change of expression is plastered on his face. "I think it's best if we stop here."

Your breath hitches. "What?"

"I said what I said," He mutters in that neutral tone of his, devoid of emotion. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. "I... I am on a journey and I have wishes to accomplish. I operate on circumstances that prove to be unlawful. It's best that you don't associate yourself with me. I was too distracted to begin with."

Distracted? Is that what he thought all of this was about? Your hands shake in anger as your eyes darted any sort of giveaway that he might just be joking with you. The world was pinning its blame on your shoulders and now you have to receive the consequences of its actions.

You purse your lips, stopping yourself from bawling then and there. You can't give him the satisfaction of seeing yourself in a mess. You refuse.

You turn around without responding, making hasty steps towards your home before halting once more. You turn to see him putting on his Kasa, eyes in a daze. Upon feeling your stare at him, he turns back towards you. His gaze falters.

"I'm sorry." He says.

You could never will out the words you should've said.

Lord Shimizu came on the 3rd day of the week. He wasn't what you expected him to be.

Naturally, nobles of that standing would appear to be egocentric maniacs who dabbled and flaunted their wealth in various entertainment establishments. They act crass and speak crass as if their authority gives them the pass to be an asshole to everybody.

You thought to yourself, this man could have anybody that he wanted. He was a general, a skilled warrior, and a candidate for marriage to Japan's array of elegant and noble women. Why would he pick a humble medic's daughter all the way from Takayama?

Well, the answer finally came to you in flesh instead.

"L-Lord Shimizu!" Your father stammers over his words as a young man, your age enters the establishment. You take a step back towards the panel of the receiving area, slightly shielding yourself from the onslaught of 3-4 men entering the place. "I didn't expect you to be here."

The man does not respond yet, his eyes wander the interior of the establishment before finally settling on you. You flinch back at the intensity of his stare. Your father notices his attention on you before clearing his throat.

"Y/N?" He calls over, eyes meeting with yours as he beckons you over. You grumble under your breath before making hesitant steps to your father's side. "Ah yes, this is Y/N Gojo. My daughter. Y/N, this is Lord Shimizu Kaito."

Your eyes peer up at him underneath your lashes, trying to take a peek at his face. Shimizu flashes you a soft smile before bowing in greeting.

"Apologies for not having been able to meet before. The Emperor had requested me to attend to several cases in various cities. I hope that you and Y/N can forgive my tardy appearance." His voice is proper and elegant but you could only scoff at his words. Apparently, it was loud enough for him, your father, and the two other guards stationed behind him to hear. Your father elbows your waist.

"Apologies for my daughter," He sheepishly smiles. "She seems to have a... cold."

He eyes you with a strict look on his face which you turn to look away at. Just as you wished for all of this to be over, a wave of a hand catches your attention. You turn to look at Shimizu who softly smiles at you once more.

"I know this proposal is sudden but I hope you can give me a chance." He says, voice and tone genuine. You hesitantly purse your lips at his words. "I'll be staying around this time. I hope I can get to know you."

Lord Shimizu stayed true to his word. The past few days were nothing but him trying to get to know you as an individual. He was nice, accommodating, and even dare say, a proper friend you could talk to.

He helped you out in chores, got you gifts, had tea with you, learned your ways, and walked with you in town. If you were the person you were before, you could've deemed this man the perfect match for you.

While you appreciated his eagerness in wanting to get to know you, you also can't help but be reminded of a certain blue-eyed boy every time he did something remotely similar. He talks of his travels, his blade, his peers, his interests, and you're brought back to the time Mizu let you hold his blade in your palms, brought you trinkets from his previous adventure, talked to you about his annoying apprentice, or that he prefers his soba to have a little bit more soup in ratio to his noodles.

Everything remind you of him.

Mizu had not visited in a while. You tried asking about him to your father if he ever came to get medicine but your father denies every question.

Sometimes you catch glimpses of a familiar Kasa roaming the town streets but is only mistaken by a wandering traveler. You're not too sure how long it would take for you to lose your wits about everything.

Sensing the troubling thoughts that plagued your mind, Shimizu offered for you both to take a stroll in town at night and shop for trinkets that you might find interesting to place in your room. He tried his best to keep you entertained, asking about your interests, making you laugh, all that stuff.

The question that prompted you at the start of his arrival began to urge you to put forth a topic for conversation. You wait for Shimizu to finish his words before finally dropping the question.

"Why me?" You ask, eyes gazing into his as he halts at the question. He blinks a couple of times, not able to process the question.

"What?"

"Why me, my lord?" You repeat, hands clutching your satchel. "I am but a mere servant's daughter. You could have anyone."

He licks his lips eyebrows furrowing. "But you are someone."

You raise your eyebrows, urging for him to continue. The man takes a breath, looking around before finally settling his eyes on you.

"I..." He starts off, words trailing as he gazes into your eyes. He continues. "I came here before. As a child."

Your eyes widen at the revelation.

"People talk of a man named Gojo-sensei who was able to remedy almost all illnesses. I was sickly and my condition was worsening." He responds. The city lanterns glow beautifully behind his figure, laughter of children, men, and women alike provides solace in the void of silence between you. "I remember coming in there and seeing you. Seeing your father then..."

He trailed off like he was remembering something painful.

"I remember a lady," His face softens at the thought. Your eyebrows furrow. "While your father did the aiding, this woman had brought me comfort. I was never really coddled and treated with such gentleness back home. I was an only child—a firstborn son. Being soft and dependent was out of the vocabulary."

You fall silent at his words as he looks down at his hands.

"She... she stayed by my side. Fed me, clothed me, made sure I was okay." He looked up at you. "I saw you sometimes, clinging to the ends of her kimono."

A chilling realization surges through your veins. Your silence prompts him to continue.

"I heard the news that she passed away years ago. I wasn't able to come due to my duties but I am indebted to her." He says. "Then, when I visited a month ago. I saw you—a spitting image."

Your breath shakes at the words. "You proposed to me because I looked like my mother?"

Shimizu looks down in shame, hands wringing in nervousness. "I thought that if I married you, I'd be able to receive that same love again."

You let out a breath of disbelief. While the topic of your mother wasn't something you detested talking about, her memory still was something you were quite hesitant to approach. You remember her sickly figure, her weak smile, the day your father broke. It was as if you threaded lightly along the edges of her carved path, wanting to preserve what was left of her image.

You take a step back, eyes looking at him in disbelief. Shimizu falters in his stance.

"I'm sorry, this isn't going to work." You softly mutter, shaking your head. Just as you take another step back, Shimizu panics and tries to grab your hand.

"Y/N, let me explain I—"

A swift change of air alerts you of a new presence and suddenly you feel deja vu. You turn your head to meet the familiar stance of a man you didn't expect to see again.

"I believe she said no." Mizu's voice is authoritative and deep, hand encasing Shimizu's wrist. The man furrows his eyebrows at Mizu who squints back a glare.

"Who are you?! Your jurisdiction?" Shimizu demands. He tries to pull his wrist away only to be met by a steel force. Mizu scoffs.

"I won't let you go until you promise to stay 10 meters away from her." Mizu threatens. Shimizu sweat drops, eyes glancing down at the hand gripping his wrist to the eyes shielded by tinted glasses. Your eyes dart back and forth between the two, afraid that a fight might brawl out and you're not in the mood to see blood spilled.

Shimizu was also a general and if word comes out that one of the Emperor's trusted military aides got injured by someone lower of his stature, your father will definitely pay for the consequences. You rush towards them and grab Mizu's hand to break them apart.

"Let him go," You say. Mizu turns to you with furrowed eyebrows. Your eyes soften, and you nod softly in reassurance. "Let him go, its okay.

Mizu hesitantly lets the man go and Shimizu stumbles back, holding his wrist. Mizu turns to you in concern, hand grabbing your arm as he examines you. "Are you alright?"

You nod, flustered by his attention. "I'm fine."

Feeling Shimizu's stare on you, you look back at the man to see hurt and a realization spread across his face. Your gaze falters.

He clears his throat and fixes his stance. "Apologies, Y/N. It seems that I have miscalculated my approaches. Forgive me for my behavior."

"It's alright, my lord," You respond. Mizu stands menacingly beside you, eyes trained on his figure. Shimizu glances at him and then at you. He smiles.

"It was nice being your friend," He says. He bows as respect. You curtsy back, albeit shaky. "I'll leave as requested. I wish you luck."

He leaves without turning back. You watch as he gets lost in the crowd, the breeze gently swinging your clothes back and forth. The lanterns dazzle the streets—performing a pretense of joy. You take a breath before finally facing the last of your problems.

Mizu stands there, eyes already looking at you with an unreadable look on his face. Your eyes soften.

"What are you doing here?" You mumble, lacking the energy to even be angry. Mizu shifts in his stance.

"I came back." He answers vaguely.

"For what?"

There a pause of silence before he moves to remove his Kasa. You can see his face clearly now, albeit those beautiful eyes of his still covered by his glasses.

"For you." He says. He gulps as if nervous and your eyes widen at his confession.

"But I thought you said—"

"I was a coward," He says. He heaves a breath. "I have loved before and shown them everything and yet I have ruined them. I was afraid that I might—that I might ruin you with what I am."

You fall silent at his words. You were confused, you had already seen what others claim to be the worst of him—in fact, that was what you loved most about his features. Eyes that seem to hold the waters—a depiction of nature. Just as he is about to continue, cheers erupt from the central town, you flinch as the others begin to gather to watch the amusement happening. Mizu, sensing your uneasiness, pulls you towards a nearby alley—dark and hidden from the public eye. He places you against the wall, eyes watching for passersby that might lurk in while your eyes are trained on his face.

You watch with admiration as his eyebrows furrow in their usual curl, those eyes that squint into a glare, chapped lips, and the glasses that begin to slowly fall down the bridge of his nose. Unable to resist the urge, you give in.

"Coast is—"

Mizu's eyes widen at the feeling of your lips against his. You cup his cheeks, pulling him down as you encase your arms over his neck. Mizu wastes no time in reciprocating the kiss. He kisses back with the same fervor, hand dropping his Kasa in favor of encasing your waist as he pulls you towards his figure. You whine as you feel his tongue intertwine with yours.

After a few pecks and kisses, you both finally pull away. There's a hushed silence of panting as Mizu places his forehead against yours.

"I am not being truthful," Mizu whispers, breath hitting your lips. "But I want to try. With you."

You smile, hands cupping his cheeks as you rub your thumbs across the surface of his skin.

"I want you as you are," You reassure him. "No matter the flaw, no matter what you tell me. I'll be here with you."

Mizu lowers his head and drops it to burrow against your neck. He hugs you close as bells and instruments begin playing. He pulls back softly before facing you with vulnerability.

"I..." He starts off. "I am not what you think I am."

You tilt your head in confusion as you encase his hands in yours. Your thumbs run over the scar that you've bandaged from before.

"I'm not a... a man." Mizu finally reveals. You pause, eyes blinking as you watch his reaction for any sort of context. Mizu purses his lips before pulling his glasses away, tucking in the side of his clothing before reaching up to pull at his top knot. You watch as his hair—no, her hair flows to her shoulders and then suddenly everything makes sense.

Mizu's breath shakes at your silence. "I-I cannot give you what you want—"

She falls silent as you lean forward to take notice of her features. The flush that adorns her cheeks and the eyes that entranced you from the start. A smile bursts from your lips.

"You're just as I dreamed of," You whisper in awe. Your arms make their way to wrap around her neck as you press yourself close to her. Mizu's face flushes at your words.

Your eyes trace the edges of her features, face contorted in a soft expression. There's a moment of silence before you finally continue. "My father wanted me to have a true love marriage. All my life, the idea of falling in love has always been my dream as a child."

Mizu blinks softly at your words, listening to your every thought.

"And now that I have it, I can understand why my father wanted me to do so," You smile, leaning your forehead against hers. "Marry me, Mizu. I just want to be yours."

The blue-eyed girl erupts into a smile, leaning forward and capturing your lips in hers. You reciprocate with the same intensity, fingers burying in her raven locks. Mizu then pulls away.

"I'll always say yes to you."

"Do we really have to do this?"

Mizu eyes your figure seated on the tatami, eyes peering up at her as she stands in front of you. You giggle at her hesitance.

"Of course!" You grin. "Consummation between man and wife is a must tradition after marriage—well in our case, wife and wife."

Mizu rolls her eyes as she sits down in front of you. She props her knee up and places her arm on top of it. She grabs the cup of tea perched on the small table beside her and takes a sip. "Consummation is done with the idea of children, love. I'm sure you're well aware of that."

You pout before an idea arises in your mind. You lean forward, going on your knees as you crawl towards her. Mizu pauses mid-sip as she watches you with careful eyes. You grab her cup, placing it down on the table as she continues to watch your every move. You settle on her lap, the slit of your kimono revealing your thighs. Mizu's breath shakes.

You take her glasses off and place them on the table before finally focusing on her, arms propped on her shoulders. You feel her hands cup your hips as you stare down at her with a smile.

"What?" You taunt. "You don't wanna fuck me?"

Mizu pauses, eyes widening before she lets out a groan and lowers her head to your clavicle. You giggle as she takes a few moments to calm herself down. Finally, pulling away to face you, Mizu looks at you with her blue eyes clouded with lust.

"You are one dangerous lady, know that?" Mizu leans forward. You grin as you rub your nose against hers.

"Mhm," You say. "My wife told me so."

"Ah fuck! Fuck!" You whimper as you grab the sheets behind you, trying to find some sort of stability from the onslaught of ministrations Mizu's giving you. "W-Wait—Mizu-Wai—Ngh!"

You're afraid that the toy one of your close friends gave you as a congratulations gift to your marriage would be too crass for your night with Mizu. You only brought it to tease her after all. You just didn't expect how much she'd be turned on by it.

"Where are you going?" Mizu's voice is deep and taunting as she watches you claw at the sheets, trying to get away from the intense pleasure. She grabs your waist and pulls you back down towards her, folding your legs to your chest. "You wanted this, why are you backing out, hm? You wanted to consummate so here we are."

She watches as the thick girth and length of her strap pushes in and out—coated with your essence. The noises from it are slick and noisy, causing you to flush in embarrassment. God fucking damn.

"So fucking pretty, aren't ya?" Mizu chuckles as she pushes her hips. She lets out a moan, feeling the other end of the dildo pushing deep with her. You whimper as Mizu presses deep, the tip of her cock bumping against that spot of yours. "So so pretty for me, aren't you momma?"

You shiver at the nickname, hands coming down to grab Mizu's lean arms—its muscle flexing as she speeds up her thrusts, making sure that it's the right spot.

"You've been adamant about this all morning. Especially, after the wedding." Mizu growls, slamming her hips against yours. "You want my kids that bad?"

You're too lost in the pleasure, moans, and garbles of her name only coming out of your mouth. Mizu smiles, hair falling down her shoulders and framing her face as she props herself up on top of you.

"If you want it so bad, I'll give it to you," Mizu leans down to bury her face on your neck, sucking a few marks as she begins to speed up her thrusts.

"Oh! Oh!" You whine as the spot inside of you becomes more sensitive with each bump. Mizu pays no mind to your sounds, reveling in the way your nails rake through her back. She smirks against your skin, licking down until she encases your nipple within her mouth. You moan at the feeling, hands reach up to bury itself in her raven locks.

"I'm close! I-I—please!" You plead as her constant torture of your cunt begins to teeter at the edge. Mizu pants heavily as she places a soft kiss behind your ear.

"I am too." Her breath shakes as her hips falter. It doesn't take long before you climax, body arching and shivering from the intensity of the pleasure. Tears begin streaming down your face as you twitch with each thrust she gives you. She smiles placing a soft kiss on your lips. "Good girl."

Mizu follows shortly behind, coming in grunts and low moans before slumping down against you. There's a moment of reprieve before Mizu props herself up once more to take a look at your afterglow.

You smile up at her, hand coming up to brush her hair over her ear. Mizu leans against your touch.

"I love you." You mumble softly. Mizu gazes into your eyes with a love so true that it warms your very being.

"I love you too."

a/n: mwehheheheheeh hope yall enjoyed that <3 not proofread will do it later mwehe

[probablyintensemuses]

A-Z NSFW Alphabet

Armando Aretas

🎧- Girls Need Love: Summer Walker

summary: head cannon on what sex—a-z—is like with Armando

A: After care (what they’re like after sex)

I’m fully convinced that after you have sex, Armando cleans you off while telling you how well you took him. Then he sets a bath or shower, your preference, for you both. He likes to clean you off and sing you some more praises before you ultimately fall asleep in each others arms.

B: Body part (what’s their favorite body part)

I see Armando as an ass and back guy. There’s no doubt he’s in killer shape, so I think seeing a toned back and a fat, perky ass bouncing while he drills into you from behind, would definitely turn him on, only fueling the way he destroys your cunt.

C: Cum (where do they like to cum)

Armando cums literally anywhere you let him. On your face, in your pussy, on your back, on your stomach. Anywhere you tell him, he will

D: Dirty (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Armando once caught you using a vibrator and never told you. It was just something about the way you moaned and squirmed, touching yourself while you called out his name, that fueled his ego and lust for you.

E : Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Armando’s a drug dealer, there are desperate girls lying up just waiting for the chance at a good fuck with him. I think it goes without saying that he’s pretty experienced and has methods on making you cum each and every-time you fuck.

F: Favorite position (this goes without saying)

I think Armando likes some good ole’ missionary, except he likes to fold you like a pretzel, test the bounds of your flexibility, as he pounds and drills deep into you. He loves to not only hear your cries and moans but see them too, and in missionary, he really gets the best of both worlds.

G: Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

To Armando, there is nothing funny about getting the chance to fuck you and see you wither from his touch. I doubt he laughs in general, so sex would definitely be a no laughing matter.

H: Hair (how well groomed are they)

For the most part I think Armando is clean shaven. I didn’t see a spec of hair on his chest in the prison scene so I think when you pull down his pants, it’ll either be clean shaven or a slight buzz down there.

I: Intimacy (how intimate are they)

It depends, are you the love of his life, or a quick fuck? Love of his life? He’ll go above and beyond for you. A quick fuck? The most you’ll get out of his is an orgasm and one night in a five star hotel.

J : Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Armando has a high sex drive—I mean look at his father—so he’s definitely going to jack off, especially with the time he spends alone and in prison. He’d jerk off thinking of you, squeezing snd pumping his swollen cock in his fist until he cums.

K: Kink (what are their kinks)

Now as violent as Armando can get, I don’t think his kink would be anything that can hurt you. I think if anything, the lack of a stable family and community around him would make him desperate for a family of his own with the right woman. I think he’d have a breeding kink, always moaning and babbling about how he wants to cum deep inside of you, impregnating you to start a family. His favorite phrase to moan near his orgasm: “Hazme papá, mi amor.”

L: location (where do they like to fuck)

Armando will fuck you anywhere his cock starts to ache, needing to be inside you. It doesn’t matter where you too are, if he wants you, he’ll have you.

M : Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Armando has expensive taste. So he gets the most turned on when you’re sensually dressed in the lingerie he bought you, all dolled up for him. I think seeing you like that, doing mundane things like cooking and cleaning, will have him ready to explode.

No: No (what are some things they’re not doing to you)

I don’t think Armando’s doing anything that can hurt you. He doesn’t want you to fear him if he goes to far, then he’ll loose you and he can’t risk that.

O: Oral (do they give and receive oral)

Armando loves the taste or your pussy, and he loves how he can make you cum just by eating you out, he loves the power of gives him. He doesn’t always ask for it, but he loves when you go down on him and suck his cock with such ease. It’s glorious watching you choke and slob on his large member.

P: Pace (how fast or slow is sex)

This depends on Armando’s mood. If you’re fucking or having a quickie, he’s all about fast and tough, making you cum as quick and hard as he can. But if you’re making love, he will give you slow, powerful, and calculate strokes, making sure to hit your sweet spot every-time time he pushes into you while singing you praises and telling you your worth.

Q : Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Armando is always game for a quickie, but I don’t think he has them often. If he’s going to fuck you, he’s going to fuck you passion and purpose and quickie doesn’t give him the time to do what he truly wants to do to you.

R: Risk (how risky are they)

Armando’s a drug-dealing assassin, risk might as well be his middle name. He’s fucking you in the office, in the van, in the compound, outside in the woods, in an airplane bathroom, upstairs at a friends place. He’s an adrenaline junkie and some part of him gets off on the fact that you like the risk too.

S: Stamina (how long do they last)

Do you see his body? That man can last for hours if he has too. Round after round he won’t tap out until you do, and if that means being balls deep for hours, he’ll do that.

T: Toys (do they like toys? Do they use them?)

Armando won’t use toys on himself. And he doesn’t really like them, he’d rather his partner cum because of him and what can do. He’ll study every part of you and listen to your sexual language so that he can perform just what you need to make you cum harder than any toy could make you.

U: Unfair (how unfair are they when you fuck)

Armando loves to tease you, edging you and seeing how far he can push you for your release. He loves to stop fucking you just when you’re at the edge so that you’re begging for him just to stick the head of his cock back in and finish his job. Hell do this a few times because some insecure part of himself needs to know just how badly you need him.

V: Volume (how loud they are during sex)

Armando is definitely vocal. He grunts and moans as he takes your pussy with his cock. He praises you in Spanish and English for how well you take his cock. He wants to be heard by you and others, claiming you as his with his sounds.

W: Wild card ( a random head canon)

As dominant as he can be, I really do think he’s a munch. I think he could sit for hours just eating your pussy or doing as you ask him and following your orders. Whatever you tell him to do in the bedroom, that won’t hurt you, of course, he does it. And he does it with fucking pride. He’s your best eater and there’s no doubt about it.

X: X-ray (what’s going down underneath)

Marcus said it: “those Lowery genes are a bitch.” I’m thinking Armando is strapped. He’s about 7 1/2 inches and thick, a perfect size to stretch you out and give you a good, full fucking that’ll have you craving for more.

Y: Yearing (how high is their sex drive)

High. That’s all I’m going to say. High.

Z: Zzz (how fast to the fall asleep after sex)

I don’t think he sleeps right after. Armando definitely pulls you into his arms and watches you sleep against his chest. And once you’re sleep for a while with no waking, I think that’s when he’ll slowly start to doze off himself.

[melobin]

mtl to have angry sex after an argument 😭

like instead of apologizing with words they apologize by fucking u just right

hmmm …

eunseok

eunseok would be all for it. it’s the first thing that comes to his head. the moment he can sense the tension in the air and he can feel your eyes looking at his differently, he’s all over you. fingers digging into your waist as he presses you against the nearest wall, lips on yours in an instant. as soon as you whimper please into the kiss he’s pulling back, turning your around so he can press your front against the wall before pushing away any clothing that’s blocking the two of you. would lean his head against your shoulder when he pushes into you, moaning so prettily as your walls suck him in. he’d fuck you so well, having a hand wrapped in your hair as he presses the side of your face against the wall, looking down at where the two of you meet repeatedly. he’d be so vocal too, groaning almost constantly, in time with your cries of pleasure and whimpers of his name. the moment you both cum you’d be collapsing into his arms, the two of you ending up cuddled together on the floor, forgetting what made either of you upset in the first place.

sungchan

sungchan finds you being mad a little hotter than he should. well, he knows he shouldn’t find it hot at all and if he knew you were genuinely upset then he’d try his hardest to push away any creeping thoughts. but, if you were mad over something little and mundane, he wouldn’t hold himself back. you’d know just from the way he looks at you, would end up wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into him, muttering a low apology into your ear before promising that he can make it up to you. takes you to bed, lays you down and fucks you in a way that quite literally has you seeing stars. sends you dizzy with every sharp buck of his hips, speeds up his pace when he knows you’re slowly losing your mind. would hold his hands in yours just for the added intimacy despite the roughness of his thrusts. could imagine the way he’d kiss at your skin and ask you how you want it before he pushes into you, promising to give you exactly that and more.

wonbin

wonbin would be a little torn on what to do, but ultimately he knows if there’s one way to make it up to you then it’s to make you cum at least three times on his fingers before fucks you. he’d touch you carefully, sitting next to you and letting his fingers trace over the skin of your thigh. he’d watch as you part your legs slightly but stay silent, not looking at him as his fingers dance up your bare skin. he’d test it out by pressing the pads of them against your panties, watching in amusement as you squirm and let out a deep breath but you don’t push him away and that’s all he needed to know. he’d push your panties aside, pressing his fingers into your slit. he’d gulp back a sigh when he feels you already wet under his touch, and after a few achingly slow circles of your clit, he’d bring his fingers down to push into you. only one at first, but would soon turn it into two. after your first orgasm where you’re sitting, your hands would be digging into his arm and your eyes would be watering as you shook from the intensity of it. he’d move you to sit across his lap before sliding his fingers into you again, letting you bury your head in his neck and cry out as he curls his fingers all over again. would coo at you, telling you it’s okay baby, you can cum. let’s you make a mess of his fingers before he lays you down and pushing into you. making sure you’re at the depths of submission whilst he kisses at your face and tells you he loves you.

seunghan

seunghan is the middle ground of the list. he wouldn’t think of sex as an argument resolver immediately and if he did he’d tread carefully to make sure it wouldn’t make you madder at him. once he knows you’re not too mad he’ll make his move, sliding his arms around your waist from behind, pressing himself against your backside whilst kissing at your neck. whispering just how sorry he is whilst his fingers inch lower down your waist, would murmur promises of how he can make it up to you, how he’ll make you feel so good that you’ll forget why you’re upset in the first place. he knows you’re stressed and he can help with that, he promises to. so within the space of a few minutes he’d have had your back turned to him, ignoring him, to having you sat on the sofa with your legs over his shoulder whilst he sucks on clit and basks in the way you cry out his name witch each flick of his tongue.

anton

anton, during the heat of the moment wouldn’t know what to think or what to do. he’d find himself frustrated but ultimately he knows you’d be feeling the same and that’s when things calm down. whilst communication wouldn’t be too big in these moments, soft little touches would. the soft touches turn into something deeper when he kisses you, his fingers pressing deep into your skin as if you were to disappear right from his grasp. the two of you would end up in bed for hours, no matter what time it is. he’d love having you ride him in these moments. him laying down, his hands gripping you whilst you ride him cock, sometimes slowly and attentively and other times faster and harder, bouncing on his cock until you’re cumming together. both of you would end up overstimulating yourselves by the end of it and the majority of the time your arguments would be discarded and forgotten, quite like the clothes you two ripped off one another before hand.

shotaro

shotaro wouldn’t really know what to do. there may be a small part of him who believes physical intimacy may help but the other part of him wants to talk things through with you and calm you both down before you engage in any sort of sexual act. that part of him tends to win, with him sitting you both down, both of your hands in his as you speak softly about whatever you argued about. he’d keep eye contact the whole time, running his thumbs over the backs of your hands whilst listening to you attentively before speaking himself. only once the issue is resolved will you pull you into him so he can kiss you, the kiss only deepening from there as you find yourselves tangled together in your bed. he’d take you so slowly, making sure you feel every inch of him as he kisses you through it. whispering sweet words to you and making sure you hear him when he tells you how much he loves you. would probably want to fall asleep cock warming you too.

sohee

sohee would feel too bad to initiate anything. the last thing he ever wants to do is upset you or make you mad, so when he knows he has all he does is beat himself up. you’d be the one to initiate the sex with him, slowly strolling over to where he’s sat on the sofa before straddling his lap and taking his hands off of his face. he’d watch you with careful eyes as you fingers his fingers before looking at him, reaching out to cup his cheek whilst running your thumb over his skin. he’d let you take him there, sitting back and letting you slowly ride his cock whilst kissing him slowly. the grip he’d have on your waist would be tight, being too afraid to let go insane he loses you for some reason. you’d have to assure him with many kisses, many orgasms and countless i love yous that you’d never leave him.

[citrus-moonlight]

As I often do, I've seen a few posts going around lately lamenting the lack of interaction with fanfiction/fanart here on Tumblr as well as AO3, but after reading a particular comment last night I just need to say this:

If someone tells you that the lack of response to sharing their writing is making them feel so upset that they're thinking of quitting writing altogether, don't tell them that's not a good mindset to have and they should just have fun with it and write for themselves. (have you just tried not being sad? you'll feel so much better!)

Even if you're a writer who felt that way once upon a time but then you changed your mindset so that you don't rely on others' feedback for validation and now you're so much happier, that's not helpful. Because that's obviously not what the person who is feeling sad and defeated is able to do right now, and for most writers/creators that's never going to be possible.

And it shouldn't have to be.

Especially here. Especially fanfiction.

Fanfiction is something that's created because someone loves something and wants to share it with others who love the same thing. And this is specifically a fandom space, somewhere that is supposed to be a community where discussion and dialogue can and is encouraged to happen between the people who write and the people who read. So when there's radio silence when you share something in this kind of space, do you really not see how that would be discouraging?

Because of course I write for myself - I would never get anything down on the page if I didn't - but I share because ultimately I want someone else out there to read what I wrote, and with any luck, to get some joy out of it. But if no one tells me they did, how am I supposed to know? As far as I know I've just been yelling into the void. As far as I know, all that work wasn't worth it.

A metaphor I've seen as an example is that it would be like having someone invite you over and cooking an entire delicious, heartfelt meal, you eat it all without saying anything, and then just leave. Do you not see how that would be upsetting?

We put so much of ourselves into what we write, bits of our hearts and souls and the things that we love and are exploring and are interested in or confused about. It's such a vulnerable thing to share something you've created, so when you tell someone that they shouldn't care if someone else reads what they wrote or tells them that they liked it, you're dismissing a very real and valid experience for so many creators out there.

Because regardless of how slow or fast a writer is, or how big or small their fandom is, it's still hard and takes time and energy and dedication and love - all of it in between our day to day lives from the mundanities to the heartbreaks - to even get something to the point where we're comfortable sharing.

Now, I know that not everyone thinks that writers are silly or selfish or entitled when they ask for feedback. Before I started writing again after many, many years, the main reason I didn't really comment on fics very often wasn't because I didn't think that the authors deserved feedback, it was more that I didn't really think that it would matter. That my comments would just be noted - if read at all - and brushed aside and then they would continue on about their day.

I could not have possible been more wrong. You might think you're just one person and it's just one comment but it's amazing how it can turn a day (or week, or month) around. How it can encourage someone to finish a story, or make a connection they'd been struggling with, or even just manage to add 500 words to a WIP. It is truly incredible to hear that someone loved something I wrote, and if you've ever commented on or reblogged one of my fics, please know that it truly means the world to me.

I've gone through a rough time with all of this lately myself, but I'm doing a bit better now (for the moment), so I just wanted to say this, in part to remind myself when it inevitably gets hard again:

If you're reading this, whether you're a friend or you've never seen me on your dash and never will again: I'm sorry it hurts right now. I'm sorry you feel discouraged and lonely, that it doesn't feel like it's worth it anymore, that you're struggling to find a reason to continue.

But I desperately hope that you keep writing. I hope you keep sharing. You're worth it. I know it's hard, and if you don't want to and you're just tired of the cycle of giving so much of yourself and getting so little in return, I understand that, too. It's ok to be in your feelings about it, it's ok to feel drained by it, and even though knowing you're not alone in your experience doesn't change anything and it still sucks, it's normal and valid and there's nothing wrong with you feeling the way that you do.

But I hope that you are able to find the joy in it again, because you deserve it. ❤️

[rambite6]

Astrology observations and notes

- Mula natives can be intense in intimate relationships. Claire Nakti mentions them being energy vampires, a trait that I believe all Ketu nakshatras share. However, Mula individuals take this to an extreme—they deeply desire to consume their romantic partners or loved ones, often expressing love and affection in ways that can be violent or disturbing. For example, Mula ☽ native Amy Winehouse once carved “I love Blake” (referring to her then-boyfriend Blake Fielder-Civil) onto her stomach using a shard of glass during a photoshoot. Mula ☉ native Keith Richards snorted his own father’s ashes. He explained, “The truth of the matter is that after having Dad’s ashes in a black box for six years—because I really couldn’t bring myself to scatter him to the winds(…)when I took the lid off the box, a fine spray of his ashes blew out onto the table. I couldn’t just brush him off, so I wiped my finger over it and snorted the residue.”

- All three Pisces nakshatras (Purva Bhadrapada, Uttara Bhadrapada, and Revati) are late bloomers. This may be because Pisces is the last sign of the zodiac and is connected to the 12th house, which rules moksha and the dissolution of individual existence into the eternal flow of life. The ultimate purpose of the 12th house is spiritual liberation and freedom from samsara. Sidereal Pisces natives are often tested and placed in situations where they must lose aspects of themselves to gain wisdom and grow, which can delay the usual stages of development in their lives. Pisces is naturally detached from material matters and easily in tune with its divine essence. Similar to Ketu, Pisces is often associated with spirituality and higher wisdom. In fact, many Vedic texts suggest that Ketu co-rules Pisces, but I’ll explore that topic in another blog post. The 12th house represents confinement, the subconscious, loss, endings, isolation, delusion, unseen realms, and private emotions. It is a deeply spiritual and sensitive house where suffering is often hidden, but it also holds profound wisdom when approached with the right mindset. Pisces natives are highly sensitive, and when faced with harsh realities, they often cope by withdrawing from the world. They prefer to live in a reality of their own making—a gift they naturally possess. However, they cannot escape responsibility entirely, as life’s traumas frequently force them to reflect and grow. Pisces natives are natural observers rather than active participants, and you won’t often find them following societal trends. They tend to stay alone, forging their own unique path. As escapists at heart, Pisces struggles to make sense of things logically, often relying on emotions and intuition instead. This is why Mercury debilitates in Pisces. For Pisces, life feels like a ripple in water—vast, reflective, and abyssal like the ocean. Because of their tendency toward isolation, the mundanity of life can be deeply depressing for them. They may overthink, fall into maladaptive daydreaming, or become so lost in their imagination that they miss out on their own present lives and development. Once Pisces natives stop escaping and begin addressing their emotions in a healthy way—through spiritual practices or creative expression—they can unlock their full potential. Pisces is highly creative, with Venus exalting in this sign, emphasizing their natural gifts in art, music, and storytelling. Most Pisces natives feel a calling for something greater than an average life and often possess the talent to fulfill that calling. However, their main challenge lies in taking consistent steps toward their goals and overcoming their finicky, scattered tendencies.

- Ashwini natives are prone to addiction, self-medicating habits, and mental health challenges. Ashwini is a Ketu-ruled nakshatra, and Ketu, being the opposite of Rahu (the head), represents the headless body—detached from material desires and driven by the pursuit of spiritual liberation. This detachment creates disillusionment with the material world, leaving Ketu natives in their most raw, primal state, seeking the deeper truths and secrets of existence. Ketu’s influence is often compared to Mars because both planets help break through limitations, but their motivations differ. Mars is driven by ambition and devotion, while Ketu is fueled by detachment from material pursuits. This immense detachment makes Ashwini natives especially susceptible to addiction, often as a way to numb themselves or escape from overactive mental activity. Aries, the sign ruled by Ashwini, governs the head, and Ashwini as the first nakshatra carries the primal spark of energy and mental impulses. This nakshatra relates to mental activity, making its natives highly energetic but also restless and prone to overthinking. Their constant mental stimulation can lead to exhaustion, agitation, and self-destructive behaviors if not managed well. Ashwini natives have a natural intelligence and a desire to attain things quickly. However, this need for constant intellectual or physical stimulation can result in impulsive and reckless behavior when they are not moving or engaged in something meaningful. Ashwini is a restless nakshatra, and when placed in social environments requiring conformity, natives may struggle to fit in, often resorting to sarcasm and bluntness. Their detachment from societal norms, combined with their cosmic youthfulness and childlike nature (symbolized by their deities, the young twin horses), can make them appear rude or immature. Although Ashwini natives may try to behave in a “normal” or formal manner, this often leads to frustration due to their need for freedom and stimulation. Their childlike energy and cosmic vitality are best channeled into pursuits that allow them to move, grow, and explore.

- Venus in the 12th house is a beautiful but challenging placement. Natives with this position view romance, spirituality, or even life through rose-colored glasses. While this gives them a dreamy and idealistic perspective, it can also lead to disconnection from reality, resulting in disappointment and, often, depression. Venus is desires, romance, pleasure, and art. When placed in the deeply private and spiritual 12th house, these aspects become tied to one’s emotional and spiritual well-being. People with Venus in the 12th tend to keep their relationships very private, often out of fear of outside interference. The 12th house also rules hidden enemies, which can make these natives cautious about exposing their love life. They are unconditional lovers, often idealizing their partners to the extent that they may overlook toxic or unbalanced dynamics. It’s common for Venus in the 12th natives to love more intensely than their partners, which can lead to one-sided or non-secure relationships, such as secret affairs. These natives are often seduced by the idea of love in their minds, finding it difficult to accept the reality of their situation. This disconnection can lead to insecurity, particularly regarding their self-image. Physically, those with Venus in the 12th house are quite beautiful, but they may struggle to see or embrace their own beauty, feeling unworthy of love. Despite these challenges, Venus in the 12th house produces some of the most empathetic, self-sacrificial, and artistically gifted individuals. Venus is exalted in Pisces, the ruler of the 12th house, which enhances their creative potential. The 12th house governs hidden things, so natives may have hidden artistic talents that they should explore. They can create art that has a profound emotional and spiritual impact, capable of healing others and excel in surrealist forms of expression, romantic poetry, music, and visual mediums that convey unexplainable yet resonating emotions.

- Ashlesha and Uttara Bhadrapada bring to mind the effects of anesthesia. Ashlesha represents the beginning stages of anesthesia, with its Shakti—the power to inflict poison—a clinging and restrictive energy that feels paralyzing. This is akin to how anesthesia is injected into the nervous system, suppressing consciousness and inducing a detached, deep sleep-like state. Uttara Bhadrapada represents the culmination of this process, embodying the state of deep sleep. Its deity, Ahirbudhnya—the serpent of the depths—reflects the energy of stillness and dissociation of what’s above (reality/conciousness) , as well as the 12th house’s connection to sleep and the unconscious. Uttara Bhadrapada signifies the transcendental detachment from the physical body, much like the dissociative, dream-like state brought on by anesthesia. Ahirbudhnya’s symbolism as the serpent of the deep ocean mirrors the sensation of being submerged or taken into a controlled, deep state under anesthesia. Ashlesha’s clinging, paralyzing venom parallels Uttara Bhadrapada’s surrender and stillness, with both evoking states where the body is subdued or transcended. Ashlesha operates through the subconscious and instinctual nervous responses, while Uttara Bhadrapada focuses on spiritual transcendence. Anesthesia acts as a bridge between these realms, allowing the body to rest while bypassing conscious awareness.

- Pushya and Krittika natives can have features characterized by full lips, almond-shaped or wide-set eyes, which can also be rounded and downturned , or upturned and almond shaped typically deep-set. They tend to have very soft cheeks and overall gentle facial features, even among Krittika natives. Those born under the sheep yoni have soft, curly, or full hair. These natives dislike being alone and will often join others they can’t emotionally or socially relate to simply to avoid solitude. Krittika is in the ♉︎ and ♈︎ rashi, while Pushya is in ♋︎. Interestingly, Taurus exalts the Moon, and Krittika is the nakshatra where the Moon is exalted. Despite their planetary differences, both share similarities, including being associated with the goat/sheep yoni consort. Both Krittika and Pushya are nurturing by nature; however, Pushya leans toward giving, while Krittika tends to receive. There is a pure aura about them, as they are spiritually pure at their core and often sacrificial. For example, Joan of Arc, a Pushya ↑, led French armies based on divine visions she claimed to have, ultimately leading to her martyrdom by being burned at the stake—an example of these nakshatras embodying the archetype of sacrificial lambs. Krittika’s symbol is a blade, and the name itself means “one who cuts.” Its deity, Agni, the fire god, represents purification through fire, especially of the soul. Krittika women, in particular, can face disdain from both men and women due to their sovereign and independent nature. They are often misunderstood and may fall victim to others attempting to humble or overpower them.

Ebonee Davis - Pushya ↑ Halle Berry - Pushya ☽ Krittika ♈︎ ↑

Spike Fearn - Krittika ♈︎ ☽ Mick Jagger - Pushya ☉ krittika ♉︎ ☽

-Jyeshtha natives are known for being great writers, excelling in songwriting, literature, poetry, and rap. There are many notable poets, rappers, and songwriters with Jyeshtha placements, including Bob Dylan, Emily Dickinson, Jim Morrison, Clarice Lispector, and Sonny Hall. Rappers like Nicki Minaj and JT, as well as singer-songwriters such as Sinead O’Connor and Tom Waits, also carry strong Jyeshtha energy. Jyeshtha is ruled by Mercury, which governs communication and expression through use of speech and writing. It also rules numbers and words and how we use them to problem-solve and convey ideas. Known as the “elder,” Jyeshtha’s deity is Indra, and Jyeshtha natives tend to excel because of their high standards, ambition and intuitive expertise in their craft. Relying in the ♏︎ rasi—a mysterious, transformative, intense, and passionate sign co-ruled by Mars and Ketu—Jyeshtha natives delve into themes of impersonal tragedy, exploring the darker aspects of the human psyche. Their writing is distinguished by their technique, style, and wordplay. Mars appears prominently in charts of many rappers through both signs (Aries and Scorpio) and nakshatras (Mrigashira, Chitra, and Dhanishta).

- Chitra nakshatra is quite similar to the Venus nakshatras in terms of behavior in my opinion. Chitra is all about refinement, creativity, beauty, and enjoying things that appeal to the senses. Although ruled by Mars, its connection to Venus (♎︎) and Mercury (♍︎) gives it a visually oriented and perfectionist nature, much like the Venus nakshatras, which are immensely creative. Both Chitra and Venus nakshatras share a tendency to push boundaries, sometimes indulging in taboo subjects. Venus nakshatras are known for their exclusivity, often socializing and collaborating only with other Venus nakshatra natives. Similarly, Chitra exhibits a form of discrimination by networking and associating only with those they deem worthy—often based on aesthetics or social status. Chitra natives are also highly judgmental, frequently offering unsolicited critiques because they cannot tolerate anything they perceive as imperfect. This mirrors the Venusian tendency to prioritize beauty and refinement above all else Especially because Venus (Shukra), the guru of demons and Chitra is demonic Rakshasa gana. there are, of course, key differences between Chitra and the Venus nakshatras.

- Saturn in the 4th house: The 4th house is one of the most private houses in astrology, ruled by Cancer, which is governed by the Moon (representing emotions). This house symbolizes our early home environment, upbringing, and especially our relationship with our mother. The mother is our first home (the womb) and nurtures us emotionally. How our parents teach us to regulate emotions is crucial for our emotional well-being. However, with Saturn in the 4th house—a restrictive and malefic planet—its energy clashes with Cancer’s nurturing qualities, as Saturn is in its detriment in this sign. Saturn represents coldness, self-limitation, underdogs/outcasts, effort, and karma. Natives with Saturn in the 4th house experience a difficult childhood, being forced to mature quickly and take on heavy responsibilities at a young age. They may feel disconnected from peers, unable to engage in carefree, childish behavior due to these responsibilities. This placement often indicates a mother who is emotionally distant or invalidating. These natives might have been told to “be strong” instead of expressing their emotions. In some cases, they may have served as their mother’s emotional crutch, catering to her emotional needs instead of receiving the nurturing they needed. Traumatic family events may linger, leaving them feeling tied to their family out of a sense of duty. For Saturn in the 4th house natives to thrive, they need to move away from their homeland or create physical distance from their family. Despite the hardships, individuals with this placement tend to develop deep empathy, a strong sense of responsibility, and profound wisdom. However, they are prone to anxiety and mood disorders, making it crucial for them to seek therapy, learn emotional regulation, and to give themselves a break and allow themselves love by building a supportive community that provides comfort and belonging.

- Jupiter in the 5th House: The 5th house is an important and auspicious house in astrology, representing past karmas and influencing one’s life journey. Creation is a central theme of the 5th house, whether through children, art, intellect, or ideas. With Jupiter placed here, this becomes a highly favorable position. Jupiter, known as Guru, is an expansive planet that represents luck, joy, knowledge and abundance. It thrives on self-improvement through activities like reading, studying, meditation, and creative pursuits such as music or painting. Natives with Jupiter in the 5th house feel an innate optimism about education, creativity, and spirituality. They approach learning and creating with a sense of childlike curiosity and openness, allowing them to absorb knowledge and express their creativity with purity and innocence. This mindset helps them flourish in these areas. Because the 5th house also rules children, individuals with this placement have a growth-oriented relationships with children. They may naturally take on roles as teachers, mentors, or guides, and children are likely to be drawn to them easily. Their own children will be blessed as well. However, this positive energy is best expressed when the 5th house is free from malefic influences or harmful conjunctions to Jupiter. Without such hindrances, Jupiter’s energy shines brightly, encouraging intellectual and spiritual growth. It’s important for those with Jupiter in the 5th to remain mindful of their potential naivety. While optimism and generosity are key strengths, they must remember that actions still carry consequences. Overindulgence or excessive reliance on luck can negatively affect their karmic balance. To truly thrive, these natives should strive to give as much as they receive, ensuring that their abundance benefits not just themselves but others as well.

*All these notes are just based off my own personal observations and readings. It may not resonate everyone with these placements

[moonmaiden1996]

Thinking about Sanji... 🤔🤭 Do you think besides the nosebleeding he comes undone in his pants very often?

18 +++ Suggestiveness

I mean I should be sleeping but this ask must be answered!

ALL THE TIME!

This man is practically the poster child for coming in his pants. Let’s break it down even further, because the scenarios where this man absolutely loses it are endless.

Sanji is the ultimate combination of devotion and zero chill. From the moment you set foot on the ship, he’s been hopelessly infatuated, worshipping you like a goddess. And let’s be real—when Sanji loves, he loves hard. Which means he also cums hard. Every glance, every smile, every casual interaction with you is like a shot to his very soul and well--- his pants.

The nosebleeds? Just the tip of the iceberg. Sanji is so worked up, so brimming with adoration and desire, that the smallest, most innocent gesture can leave him clinging to his last shred of composure and make as mess in his pants.

Everyday Moments That Ruin Him:

When You Praise His Cooking: The way you moan softly after tasting one of his dishes? He’s toast. A trembling, stammering mess, ready to drop to his knees and thank the universe for your existence as he explodes.

Adjusting Your Clothes: Fixing your shirt strap or adjusting your skirt without even thinking about it? He’s biting down on his lip so hard its hard to know where his losing the most bodily fluids from.

Stretching in the Morning: Catching a glimpse of you stretching after waking up, arms above your head, soft sigh escaping your lips? He’s gripping the nearest piece of furniture for dear life- the man needed to change his outfit and he he hasn't even made breakfast yet

Subtle Teasers That Shatter Him:

Eating Something Messy: Watching you innocently bite into a piece of fruit or a pastry, lips glossy and fingers a little sticky? He’s sweating, his knees weak, heart pounding like a drum and his definatly twitching.

Playful Touches: You laugh and lightly tap his arm, or, heaven forbid, rest a hand on his shoulder while asking him something. His brain short-circuits defiantly thinking about another place he would like you to touch as he reaches his peak.

Trying to Learn Something New: If you’re cooking and lean in close to ask for tips, he’s hyper-focused on not combusting as you innocently stand inches away from him. If he has to put his arms around you to help your technique he is a goner.--- RIP SANJI.

Accidental Intimacy:

Sharing a Drink: You take a sip from his glass or taking a bite off his fork? His thoughts spiral, and he’s barely holding it together. I mean he just isn't he collapses on the floor and is twitching for at least 10 minutes before his aftershocks subside.

Fixing His Tie: Adjusting his tie or brushing crumbs off his shirt? He’s will be needing to take a trip to his room to change.

Wearing His Clothes: Borrow his jacket or shirt? The though alone sends him its a sea of moans. The sight-- this will send him onto a full on fit and I am talking multiple. He passes out from pleasure here.

Sanji’s mind has been racing about you since the day he met you. Whether it’s imagining sweet, romantic gestures or, well, less innocent daydreams, he’s perpetually teetering on the edge. Any minute he could burst. He’s so eager and so deeply in love that even the most mundane interactions feel electric so he is very sensitive to anything you do.

Would he be mortified if you caught on? Absolutely. But deep down, a secret part of him would revel in it— he wants you too watch him! Knowing that even without trying, you have this effect on him. It’s just further proof of how utterly and hopelessly devoted he is to you and proves how amazing you are.

On the whole Sanji doesn't see this as a bad thing he sees it a proof that your made for him but... he does not love the amount of laundry he has to do or running out completely and having to borrow erghhhh Zoro's. The texture, the smell… the sheer uncomfortableness of having to wear Mosshead's clothes. But when he’s desperate, he’ll reluctantly reach for those, all while muttering curses and swearing that he’ll never let it come to that again. Of course it does as Sanji simply cannot stop himself.

But after that horrifying experience Sanji will just go commando or finally get you to love him so he can become undone in some other way *waggles eyebrows* you know what I mean.

I cannot resist a Sanji ask...who am I joking I cannot resist any One Piece guy I mean Corazon ....

Hope you enjoyed. I would love to know your take on his too :P

LIKE. COMMENT. REQUEST.

[kimberly-spirits13]

Dating Jason Todd General Headcannons

warnings: nothing graphic but there are a few bed preferences in there without being descriptive

He's a very veryyyy touchy person

There is not a time in your entire relationship where he doesn't have his hands on you somehow

he wants you to sit in his lap and be cuddled up against his chest, wants his hand on your thigh, pinkies linked, holding your hand, touching shoulders while standing close together, literally anything

He's a total big spoon almost always

He likes to engulf you and it makes him feel like you're safe

Also likes it when you use his chest or stomach as a pillow

"Don't you have a pillow to sleep on Y/N/N?" "yea, I'm using it doofus."

He likes to sleep on top of you and have you scratch his scalp or run your fingers through his hair

has him out like a light

Jason is a heavy sleeper so if you move around a lot, it won't bother him

That being said, it's hard to wake him up from a nightmare

sometimes you can't wake him up and have to let him ride it out and wake up on his own

He HATES waking up alone and will tightly wrap his arms and legs around you when he sleeps

He likes being able to do things separately but in the same room

maybe you're working on a case and he's reading Jane Austin or something

He really prefers a vigilante S/O because he knows they can take care of themselves

it's one less thing for him to worry about if you can roundhouse someone three times your size

He really thinks that it's hot when you get aggressive on patrol or missions

gets hot and bothered very easily

he's not one to say anything degrading while you two are in the sheets

he's more like a really sweet and attentive type that can also get aggressive but never mean

he's not into choking, sorry but no- you two have been choked to near death enough and he doesn't find anything attractive about it

He also isn't the type to immediately want to get it on the moment you're in shorts or have your shirt off or something

Like he'll tell you that you're fine as hell but he's not immediately a dog towards you unless you want to do anything

He's the kind of person that you can be very very comfortable around

Likes to ride his motorcycle with you since it's another chance for you two to be close

is a hype man and is the kind of person that you take shopping with you

He'll always be bias towards red though

I don't know that I'd say that Jason is the type of person that is sleeping around with everyone

I think that he's had a few relationships before (maybe like 2 or 3, 4 at most) but he's not going around the neighborhood

Is extremely protective and loyal

Like would not even think about doing ANYTHING that could hinder your trust towards him

He is the type to open your car doors and open the door into a building and order for you if you want and walk closest to the road

if scary dog privileges were a human

Jason is the sweetest little thing but he looks like he can snap anyone like a twig with his pinky

He likes being held

Please wrap this man in your arms for a few hours

that's ultimately all he wants

He doesn't have a boobs or butt preference and generally just loves everything about you

There's no being insecure in this house y'all

"What'd you say about yourself?" "Jason it's really not a big deal, I just don't like this scar from that sword fight a few years back." "You know what Y/N, no, uh uh, sit down and let me tell you something you literal angel"

goes on and on and on and on about how perfect you are

Sticks his head under your shirt

It's a common occurrence

ultimately, Jason just wants love

that's it, that's all the puppy wants

He really likes to cook for you since it's very domestic

He likes anything domestic, even cleaning the house or doing something mundane like the dishes

it makes him feel at home with you

he's the one that buys the candles in the house since I think he would secretly have really good taste in things like that

takes care of himself really well after he was resurrected in the Lazarus Pit

uses nice shampoo, conditioner, washes his face and moisturizes, shaves often, he's down to do face and hair masks with you at any point

[thebibliosphere]

Hm. I'm rereading something I wrote, and I can't decide if it's going to be infuriating for some readers, or if there will be more going "OH, same!"

Given that my readership is largely in the Autistic 🤝ADHD vampire fan club (Vlad), I'm hoping it'll be the latter, but it's still making me hesitate because it's not how people expect sex scenes to read.

Everything's usually boiled down to a laser-focused precision of sensations and evocative, heated language -- and that does eventually happen with this. You just have to get past Vlad's brain wandering around for a bit because while Nathan's doing a good job of getting his attention in the moment, he's not being consistent, and it's giving Vlad's brain time to wander. Like noticing that Nathan squints a bit when he reads. ("(Hyperopia, Vlad’s brain supplied helpfully before he could smother it.)") Or just generally having full-on conversations in his head in the downtimes between stimulation -- and by downtime, I mean the split second it takes for Nathan to grab something from the nightstand.

Another part of me worries people will think I'm playing to stereotypes or I'm hamming it up to be "quirky," but given my brain is the epitome of the "hyper 8-year-old boy who can't sit still shiny disorder" despite being a 36yo cis woman, I've pretty much resigned myself to some people calling Vlad a stereotype anyway.

A larger part of me just... kind of really wants to see this kind of thing in a sex scene. I want to see my own thought patterns and acknowledge that even when you're getting hot and heavy with someone -- arguably an act that should consume all of your attention -- you'll still find your mind wandering. You'll notice something out the corner of your eye and go, "fucking shit, laundry, do not forget, do not forget" (and then you'll forget), or you'll be about to go down on someone, and the dick joke your friend told you three months ago will pop into your head and suddenly you're snickering with no tactful way to explain it.

(This is another thing that I always think is sorely lacking in sex scenes. No one's messy. No one's laughing like an idiot because they just thumped their head into the headboard, or a joke just popped into their head. Or someone's body made a fart sound because there's lube in places and things are thrusting. Like, maybe it's me, maybe I'm weird, but I think those are the moments you can build real romance out of. Not necessarily erotica, because those things (supposedly) aren't sexy, but there's so much emotion you can show with partners who are able to laugh with each other in those moments. You can show so much love and reverence through the mundane it hurts.)

It'd just be nice, for once, to have the character be absolved of the guilt that often happens in those moments because you're supposed to be focusing on what is happening, and your idiot brain just won't shut up.

Ultimately, it doesn't matter too much. It's a short story I'm hoping to fling out at some point (as soon as my idiot brain shuts up and lets me finish it). But it feels more important than it actually is because it feels like I'm exposing a major part of my psyche. Like pinning down all the ugly parts of my brain that can't ever actually be pinned down, no matter how much I try.

idk. Words. Things. Stuff. I'm going to try and finish this and then see what I want to do with it.

[aphrothiti]

I’ve noticed that a lot of artists seem to channel their rahu placement in their early work, and then mature into their ketu placement as time passes

There is an instinctive urge to make art that is original or interesting in some way, in larger projects even an urge to worldbuild. Creation when you are an amateur often makes you want to reach outside the mundane you and express your ego (rahu).

But as artists get older and their work matures with them, art becomes less about making an imprint and ego and more so about self expression. In this context I mean self expression as in expressing everything you come from, and everything you already are at rest (ketu) when you aren’t rationalising yourself into being something else (rahu).

Ultimately it’s good to have a balance of both, and you wouldn’t be able to really separate them anyway since they work on an axis. Channeling your ketu artistically is important because it’s what comes naturally to you (for lack of better phrasing- ykwim). Using your rahu is also important because you need to understand the context in which you are creating, and to consume and intellectually digest the work of others around you.

When artists lean too hard into their ketu, their art can become a bit uncouth or controversial or at the very least out of touch.

When you lean too hard into your rahu, your work can become unoriginal as you’re too heavily influenced by what other people are doing.

[yaekiss]

𝑴𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝑵𝒆𝒆𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒙𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

꩜ Room Content: GN! Dom! Reader x Sub! Kaveh, no gendered terms for reader, no mention of reader's anatomy, handjob & blowjob (Kaveh receiving), praise (Kaveh receiving), lmk if I missed out anything ! ꩜ A/N: I've been thinking about writing something for Kaveh again lately so thank you pringles for sending in this prompt!! Also a huge thank you for waiting! Hope you enjoy the fic !! <3 ꩜ This was written for @xxpringlesxx as part of my Care for a Fic fundraising event for Gaza! If you would to request a fic of your own, do check out the event post above ^^

As he busies himself with washing the dishes after dinner (it’s his turn today), Kaveh hums along to the tune of that catchy love song that’s been popular in Sumeru lately, one that’s been stuck in his head all week. 

From where you’re seated, you can hear the water run and plates and glasses clink as he washes them and puts them away on a rack to dry. However, interspersed between the mundane noises and his light humming, you pick up frustrated huffs. 

Concerned for your lover, you crane your head over to look at him, and you see the problem. He’s constantly rolling his shoulders back and sharply tilting his head to each side, probably trying to pop a stubborn crick in his neck.

Making your way over to the kitchen, as you get closer, you can’t help but notice that his posture looks tense as he hunches over the sink. Mind processing, you recall him complaining about his latest commissions to you over dinner.

(“Can you believe the client even suggested that?” He sighs before lifting another spoonful of soup to his mouth.

“And don’t even get me started on the deadlines, dearest! I don’t know how I’ll survive this one without pulling a few all-nighters,” Kaveh all but wails. The soup doesn’t really make it into his mouth since he just sets the spoon back into the bowl so his hands are free to tug at his hair.

You laugh lightheartedly, take his hands out of his hair gently, then pick up his almost empty bowl of soup so that you can refill it. 

“You’ll need all the energy you can get then, I’ll get more soup for you. And I hope you’d still get some rest though, beloved,” you chide him softly.)

He hears you pop into the kitchen and he turns around to face you.

“Hey, just finished the dishes, do you need something from the drying rack?”

You shake your head, “Nope. I was just wondering if you wanted a massage, since you’ve been working hard and your shoulders are tense, is all.” 

Kaveh answers as he wipes his wet hands on a clean dry cloth hanging by the wall, his tone chipper, “That’ll be nothing but heavenly, thank you so much, dearest. Ugh, you don’t even want to know how much my shoulders have been killing me lately.” 

He allows you to lead him into your shared bedroom, where he promptly faceplants down onto the mattress, a tired muffled sigh leaving him. Reaching over to the bedside table, you pick up the tub of lotion in the drawer. Opening it, you look back down at Kaveh who’s still sprawled out prone on the bed and you sigh.

“Come on, don’t you think it’ll be better and easier for me without your shirt in the way?” He doesn’t answer but you know he heard you because of the way he kicks his legs, as if throwing a fit. 

“But I just got comfy,” he groans, his grumpy tone muffled by the mattress under him. Ultimately, he sits back up, pulls his shirt over his head, folds it quickly and sets it to a side, then flops back down onto the mattress, all in quick succession.

Clambering over him to straddle his lower back, you scoop a nice dollop of the lotion and spread it across the expanse of his back so that your hands can smoothly glide over his skin. You start from between his shoulder blades, where you rub it into his shoulders and take note of how tense his muscles are. While you work at the knots in his muscles, he relaxes more and more until he has practically melted and become one with the bed. 

Then gradually, your hands make their way down to his waist. When your thumbs dig into the area around the small of his back, he shivers under you, along with a low hiss. 

Unbeknownst to you, your beloved Kaveh lays pinned and squirming beneath your hands as he desperately tries to muffle the moans that itch to make their way out of his throat. He fights back the urge to buck his hips downwards, you were nice enough to help him wind down from a busy couple of days and yet here he is getting hot and bothered under your touch.

It’s not his fault that you’ve been running through his mind, who wouldn’t be enraptured by you? You’re the only thing keeping him sane in spite of his growing workload, his thoughts wandering to his dearest lover throughout these hellish days as a balm to soothe his weary soul.

The more he tries to tear his traitorous mind away from you, the more it conjures up increasingly scandalous fantasies of how this current situation could play out. What would you do to him? Tease him until he’s begging for his release, a full-body blush painted across his skin? Or perhaps the inverse, where you’d wring climax after climax out of him until he’s mumbling nothing but utter nonsense, limbless in your arms? How’d he love for your hands to drift further down his body, trail under the waistband of his pants to where he needs you the most.

Your voice snaps him out of his daze and drags him out of his daydreams.

“Done with your back, beloved. Flip around for me?” He hears you coo from above him as you move to sit on the bed so he can change his position and yet, hesitates to turn upwards and face you.

Mainly, due to the tightness in his pants right now.

“Hmm, Kaveh? What’s wrong?” The concern in your voice is evident and he tries everything to will away his hard-on until he’s confronted with the fact that he has no choice but to do as you say, lest he causes you to worry even more.

Slowly, he peels himself off the mattress on shaky hands while the tips of his ears are burning red. But before he flips over completely, he manages to mumble out a weak, “Um. Uh. Just don’t look down too much…”

When he’s finally done shifting positions, you’re able to see just how bright of a blush has settled on his face, his brows knitted together as he quickly moves his hands to the front of his pants. However, it’s too late and you’ve already caught a glimpse of what he’s trying to hide. (And really, the rumpled state of his pants aren’t helping his case.)

Kaveh knows that you’ve realised when a mischievous look flashes across your face, “Aww, why didn’t you just tell me? Just an innocent little massage and you’re already so worked up?” He didn’t know his face could get any hotter but it does when he recognises that you’re teasing him.

Fortunately for him, it seems like you’re in a merciful mood tonight as you drag your fingertips down past his navel, goosebumps rising on his skin along the path you trace out. When your fingers go to hook under his waistband, you ask, “Do you want this?”

Kaveh thinks he has never nodded this hard in his life.

Prying him free from the confines of his clothes, he’s already almost fully erect, to which you quickly fix. Wiping your hands of the remaining lotion still clinging to them, you procure a different container, a water-based lubricant this time, and slather it generously on your palms and fingers to bring it up to your body temperature. 

Wrapping a hand around his base, you stroke upwards in a fluid motion, making him jerk his hips up into your fist. Eyes squeezed shut, Kaveh hisses sharply when he feels your other hand snake up to his chest and flick at one of his sensitive nipples. 

Filthy slick noises fill the room as you take the time prying moan after moan from his lips and he looks utterly debauched lying under you. A messy halo of golden blonde hair frames his face aflame with colour and you sear this image of your beloved into your memory.

“Are my hands really that good?”

“Hnn… Ye-yes! More, please…!” He slurs, half out his mind.

The combined onslaught of pleasure proves to be too much for him as the telltale sign of his thighs tensing signals his oncoming release. Yet, just as he tips over the edge, you instantly stop your ministrations, pulling your hands away from him.

But before he can whine out in disappointment, you take him into your mouth. The sudden replacement of your hands with the warmth of your tongue takes him off guard and it rips a drawn out keen from the architect. Your hands rove around his body, alternating from pinching and toying with his chest to kneading at the muscles of his thighs and ass.

“Absolutely lovely, beloved. I’m so lucky to have such a hard worker, someone so kind and earnest in everything that he does,” he moans unabashedly at your praise, head pressed back hard against the bed as he tries to hold himself back from coming too soon. Unshed tears cling to his eyelashes as he blinks rapidly at the overwhelming sensations.

“Going to… hah! Need to-!” At this point, Kaveh’s mind has been reduced to mush, his fingers tangled in the bedsheets as he begs and babbles in between breathy pants.

“Go on, beloved, anything you want,” you coo, pressing a kiss to his inner thigh. When you lick up the underside of his shaft and take his drooling tip into your mouth, a hand twisting at the base whilst the other toys with his balls. His muscles lock up as his back arches off the bed and he cums with a shout. 

Stars dancing behind his eyelids, he moans when you press your lips to his and he tastes himself. His hand scrambles to find yours, fingers entwining as his thoughts fill with nothing except the love he has for you. 

When you break away from him, Kaveh sighs against your cheek, plastering kiss after kiss across your face. But you’re not done pampering him for tonight yet, and he knows this when you nibble at his ear.

“Looks like you’re still tense, how about we continue your massage, hmm?” 

Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡

If you'd like to request a fic of your own, do consider checking out my event post!

[irisintheafterglow]

invisible string (gojo x you)

summary: the story of the first time megumi used ten shadows.

wc: 3k

cw/tags: fluff to angst/comfort and back to fluff, canon-typical violence, mild language, mentions of kidnapping, weapons (gun, knives), established relationship with pet names (babe, baby, sweetheart)

note: coparenting megumi? coparenting megumi. something about little megs at a dog shelter is just so cute to me but then yk we gotta have the soulmate-tie-object angst/comfort because it's impossible for me to write solely fluffy jjk content hope you enjoy!

likes/reblogs/feedback are appreciated <3

“Alright, Megs. Let ‘em rip.” You nod reassuringly despite the hesitancy riddled on his face. 

“Are you sure I’m not going to hurt you?” His voice is small, different from his usual boredom. For the first time in the two years since you’ve met him, Megumi was scared. He was scared of causing you harm, and for good reason. Even though he was barely taller than your hip, Satoru believed it to be a good idea to tell him that, in the future, he could grow to become the next god of the Jujutsu world. It made the boy slightly nervous, then, to unleash something that he wasn’t a hundred percent sure he could control. “I’d rather test with Satoru in case something goes wrong.” 

“You want to test with him or test on him, bud?” You smirk at his pursed lips and frustratedly furrowed eyebrows. It was no secret that he’d rather see your boyfriend get hurt than you, even though nothing could touch Satoru since he mastered unconscious activation of Infinity. “If you really want to, we can wait for him to get back from his mission, but that won’t be for another few days; I’d really like you to try out the technique with at least one of us with you, but it’s ultimately up to you.” You never wanted to push him into something that he didn’t want since he was already caught in a delicate balancing act. It was hard enough having the Zenins’ prized technique and even harder to prioritize relatively mundane spelling tests. If he were with his power-hungry relatives, you knew education and training would go hand in hand, but he’d also be taught that strength equals worth. That’s not shit you nor Satoru wanted such an inherently good kid to be learning. 

He bites the inside of his cheek in contemplation and you can see the gears turning in his mind. “I don’t know how to…say it.”

“You don’t need to say anything if you don’t want to; you just do the thing with your hands.” You squint against the sun hanging high in the sky, bathing in the warmth that radiated from the school’s courtyard. An idea crossed your mind of bringing Megumi inside where there’s less light, but he stops you before you can say anything. 

“No, it’s not that. I know how to do it, but I…don’t.” His eyes avoid yours in shame and you kneel down in front of him, taking his hands in yours. “I don’t know how to connect with them and I don’t know how to fix it.” You smile softly and gently ruffle the spikes of his hair. 

“It’s okay, really. Let’s get lunch and then we’re gonna make a pit stop before we come back; does that sound alright?” He nods and the tension in his shoulders dissipates. “Go get your bracelet.” 

He groans in protest. “Do I have to? It’s all the way over–”

“Megumi.”

“Fine.” His little steps run up the stairs in the direction of his backpack and you glance down at the shining black ring on your right hand lightly glowing with Cursed Energy. It was a gift from Satoru that you received a few months prior and a third of a shared present between you and Megumi. 

“As much as I love you, it’s way too early to get married.” 

“What? No. I wouldn’t propose using something as boring as that.” He shakes his head adamantly as Megumi inspects his gift with all the care of a scientist analyzing radioactive material. For all you knew, maybe it was radioactive. With a sly grin, he takes your hand and slides the ring onto your finger. “Look closer. I didn’t get it just ‘cause it’s shiny.” Your eyes narrow and you gasp when you see the faint aura of blue Cursed Energy imbued in the ring. “See it?”

“Why does it do that? It’s not a weapon, is it?” 

“Wait and see,” is all he whispers before he takes the beaded bracelet from Megumi and slides it carefully onto his wrist, cinching it securely. “Alright, Megs. Tell me what you see.” 

“It’s a bracelet,” the boy deadpans as his eyes flick up to Satoru’s boredly. 

“Well, no duh, it’s a bracelet. Tell me all your practicing hasn’t been for nothing.” Satoru gives Megumi one of his rare serious expressions and you see the lightbulb flicker to life in Megumi’s brain. His eyes narrow in concentration on the bracelet and his mouth opens in realization. Satoru’s eyes shine in determination as he asks the boy what he sees.

“What color–”

“Blue. Light blue, like the sky.” 

“Mhmm, good!” Your boyfriend hums triumphantly and pulls out a chain he must have been hiding under his shirt. Slung on the chain is a single black pendant glowing the same color as your ring and Megumi’s bracelet and you smirk in understanding. 

“You’re putting GPS on us? Didn’t know you were the stalker-type, babe.” You admire the ring and stick your tongue out teasingly when Satoru’s expression becomes defensive. 

“For the record, I am most definitely not that type.” A flash of amused skepticism blinks across Megumi’s face and you both catch it. “I’m not! I’m simply giving the people I care about a way of contacting me if something were to go wrong and they need me.” He crosses his lanky arms across his chest, huffing an indignant exhale. 

He’s so cute when he acts angry. “Oh, when we need you, hmm? What about when you need me to get you toilet paper at three in the morning because you didn’t check before going to take a–” 

“I’m still here!” Megumi’s slightly panicked voice pipes up and you can’t hold back your laughter any longer, doubling over and covering your teary eyes with your hand. Your boys start laughing with you, Satoru chuckling defeatedly and Megumi smiling a little nervously. 

“So, what? We hold these and talk to you like walkie talkies?” 

“No, that’s what phones are for. If one of these breaks, everyone else’s will too and I can use the Cursed Energy it releases to track where you are.” 

“How will you know which one of us broke it?” 

“There’ll be a significantly larger release of energy, or so I’m told.” 

“Does it repair itself afterward? Or will I have to get a new one every time you forget a towel in the shower?”

“No, and I forgot to mention that these are for emergencies only. Dangerous emergencies only.” Your face falls and the big picture hits you like a semi-truck. He wanted you two to be connected to him at all times with essentially a direct SOS line to the most powerful human on the planet. He wanted to be able to save you, even if you couldn’t reach him through technology. The fact that he needed to think about this felt like several hundred needles in your soul. “But!” His serious aura is gone in a snap. “I’m already with you all the time so these will probably just become redundant.” 

“Thank you, Satoru. This is really thoughtful of you.” You reach for his hand and give it a squeeze, the melancholy smile he shoots you making your heart ache. “Megs?” 

“Thanks. I’ll get strong soon, though, and then I won’t need it.” Your boyfriend breathes a subtle sigh and smiles sadly. 

“That’s exactly the point, buddy.” 

From that moment onward, the ring stayed on your finger at all times, even when you showered or went to bed. It was there as you drove to lunch with Megumi, there when you called a friend for a last-minute favor, and there when his voice quietly asked from the backseat where the pit stop was going to be. It was there when his little hand wrapped around your pinky while you walked up the steps of the shelter, and there when you gave the front desk your name. The rich darkness of the band glittered as you were led outside into the yard and met with the cacophony of barking dogs, and stayed there while an attendant brought you two enormous Husky-Shepherds. 

“What are we gonna do with them?” He hesitantly stands behind your legs, peering at the animals sprinting about the play area. 

“We’re gonna help you make a connection, Megs.”

When the two dogs first enter the field, they bolt to the other side and back multiple times. After they seemingly run out their excess energy, they make their way to you and Megumi, who reaches out a cautious fist for them to sniff. He laughs softly when they affectionately lick his hand and nudge their heads against his body. Despite being huge compared to the little boy playing with them, the dogs were incredibly gentle and obediently brought back the ball whenever he threw it for them to fetch. At one point, he turns back to look at you with a grin brighter than the sun as the dogs race across the grass for the ball. You watch him observe the dogs in awe when they play-fight, tumbling over each other and lightheartedly nipping at each other. In the short time that you’re there, Megumi creates a game with them where he creeps around the perimeter of the fence; when they inevitably follow behind him, he jumps into a funny stance and the dogs leap away playfully, tails wagging faster than helicopter blades. You take a video and send it to Satoru, hoping it makes him just as happy as it was making you. 

When the time comes for the attendant to take the dogs back to their kennels, Megumi has both his arms wrapped around the dogs’ necks and his head buried into their thick fur. You crouch next to him, rubbing his back while he kisses each dog on the forehead and commits their faces to memory. 

“So are they going to be adopted?” He asks on the walk back to the car. 

“They are. They’re gonna go home with one of the shelter’s volunteers who just so happens to be my friend from middle school. When I told her you were working on Ten Shadows, she invited us to meet them to better understand what it’s like having dogs.”

“I liked it.” His dark eyes twinkle more than you’ve ever seen before. “I like dogs.”

“I’m glad; I really am. Do you wanna get ice cream and try out your technique again at school?” He gives you a fierce nod and you smile, opening the door as he climbs into the back of your car and immediately grabs hold of his stuffed wolf. 

To your surprise, he continues to talk about the dogs even after you leave the shelter. 

“Would you ever get dogs like them?” 

You can’t help chuckling at the earnest hope in his innocent eyes and you wipe ice cream from his chin with your thumb. “Why, you want me to get dogs so you can play with them all the time?”

“Yep.” He takes another confident spoonful of ice cream. The sun finishes its descent over the horizon as the sky rapidly darkens. You can see the moon in the reflection of Megumi’s eyes. “Do you think Satoru would get dogs like them?”

“Satoru can barely take care of himself, Megs, much less two other living creatures.” Cool night air breezes past your face while you finish the last of your ice cream. 

“He takes care of you and me.” 

“That is true. Though, sometimes it feels like we’re taking care of him, huh?” He snickers, meeting your gaze contentedly before his eyes flick over your shoulder, to something behind you. His eyebrows furrow in suspicion. 

“Do you know him?”

“Who?”

“That guy. He’s been watching us for at least ten minutes.” You don’t look back at what Megumi sees yet, not wanting to raise unnecessary alarm. Instinct tells you something is wrong, but not your sorcerer instincts. You sense no immediate threat from Cursed Energy, but can detect the malicious aura from miles away. 

“Cursed Energy?”

“Not that I see.” 

“That’s weird. Is it okay if you finish your ice cream in the car?” He agrees wordlessly, eyeing the figure behind you that now walked closer as you turned to face it. 

The man looks at you with a revolting sneer and nods to another person you’d seen lingering by where you and Megumi were eating. There were more men now, all with an equally predatory expression that made your skin crawl. Before you can grab Megumi’s forearm and start running, a hand darts out with a knife. You dodge it easily, but the momentary distraction takes your focus away from Megumi. One of the men grabs him and you scream only to be cut off by a rough hand over your mouth. You wiggle out of your assailant’s grasp and kick back hard and he goes tumbling down the sidewalk. Autopilot takes over while you take down each attacker until the sound of a readied gun makes you freeze, cold metal pressed against your back from someone you didn’t sense. 

You catch sight of Megumi struggling in one of the attackers’ grips and shake your head, pleading with him to stop so he doesn't get hurt. He does, eyes wide with anger as you try to slow your racing pulse. The men were using Cursed Tools, you realized, but had no Cursed Energy which is why you couldn’t sense them coming. With sudden death at such close proximity, you couldn’t do anything but wait for an opening to attack. 

“This the one?” The man holding Megumi shoves him forward and it takes all your willpower not to grab him and kill everyone within a three mile radius. 

“Yeah. That’s the kid they want.”

“What do we do with his little babysitter?”

“Kill ‘em. Get rid of the body.” 

You have half a second to concentrate as much Cursed Energy as you can to your back before a bullet collides with it and you fall forward trying to push back against the energy-infused metal struggling to pierce your skin. With a pained cry, you successfully reject the bullet but it knocks the wind out of you, your forehead hitting the sidewalk while you futilely try to pull yourself up. Head spinning and barely able to summon any amount of Cursed Energy, your hand against the concrete gives you an idea. 

“Megumi, my ring!” Your voice sounds hoarse but he understands, throwing his hands together in the position you’d been helping him perfect for a week. You can’t tell who the screaming is coming from; but, in an instant, a gigantic white dog is tackling your assailants while an equally large black dog goes for the throat of Megumi’s captor. In that opening, the boy rushes forward, sliding the ring off your finger and smashing it to pieces. The beads of his broken bracelet clatter to the floor at the same time his technique wears off, the huge dogs returning to black voids. You grab Megumi and stumble to your feet, forcing as much Cursed Energy as you can physically create into your hands while your back hits a wall. 

Not that you need it. 

A telltale wave of vibrations hits your ears and your shoulder sag in relief when he finally takes form between you and the surrounding ring of men. 

“Hiring mercenaries and kidnapping? That’s low, even for them,” is all he says before he’s moving faster than you can blink, and in seconds he’s cradling your face gently while the men groan in agony behind him. Your arms are locked around Megumi, holding him close to your body, but you don’t realize that you’ve slid to the floor with your back against the wall. Satoru briefly checks Megumi’s face but returns to you when he deems him safe. “Hey, babe. You can let go of Megs now; I think you’re strangling him.” 

“Oh, shit. Sorry, baby.” You let your arms drop but Megumi’s arms stay squeezing around your torso, like you’d disappear if he stopped. “I hope I didn’t steal you away from something important.” 

“Nah, I was finished anyway. I was souvenir shopping, in fact. I found a very delightful pair of socks with pandas on them that I wanted to get Yaga.” You chuckle and his hands brush stray hairs from your forehead. “Thanks for keeping my kid safe, sweetheart.” 

“Our kid,” Megumi murmurs against your chest and Satoru turns a shade pinker. “You didn’t almost die trying to make sure I wasn’t kidnapped.” 

“You almost died?” Electric blue eyes dart to you in alarm and you tiredly shush his worries, reassuring him that you did not, in fact, almost die. 

“It was just a gun with Cursed Bullets. Not sure why they brought that if they were only trying to take Megs.”

“Probably thought he’d be with me.” Your boyfriend draws his mouth into a tight line and you lightly punch his shoulder. “Ouch, what was that for?”

“Stop thinking like that. I didn’t get hurt because you weren’t here. If it meant making sure he was safe,” you glance down at the boy curled into your body, “I’d get hurt like this a thousand times more.” 

“Alright, let’s get you both home before that becomes a possibility.” His arms effortlessly snake under your back and legs, lifting both you and Megumi off the ground and pulling you close to his chest. The familiar, roller coaster-drop feeling of warping envelopes your body and you close your eyes. 

When you wake, two pairs of arms wrap around your body as Satoru’s stretches over both you and Megumi, whose arms are firmly wrapped around your torso. A bright blue eye lazily winks open. Of course, he’s awake. You hush him before he says anything, glancing down at the sleeping boy between you both. He nods but his voice is still a loud whisper. 

“I’m so damn mad I missed his first Ten Shadows.” 

“It’s okay, babe,” you say as your thumb brushes over Satoru’s cheek and you think about Megumi playing in the yard with the two huge dogs. 

“I doubt it’ll be the last time he uses it.”

[1] New Message - Volunteer Announcements

Today at 12:07 P.M

We are proud to introduce our Shelter Volunteer of the Month: FUSHIGURO MEGUMI (7 yrs old)

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