#Whats wrong with knowing both sides of the story?

[enchantressiren]

❝𝐏𝐀𝐂: 𝐀 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥.❞

Who has their eye on you? (Very detailed)

Masterlist.

Author's note,

I would appreciate if everyone read this -> Boundaries.

Divider.

Pile I.

If you’re into men, then this pile is for you. If not, you picked the wrong pile (an intuitive disclaimer).

There is a tall man who makes sure he takes care of himself and always eyes your body like eye candy. Their smell is rich, it makes your nostril flare up slightly, aching to be beneath him and allowing him to stuff you full. This man knows how to draw you in and likes to play coy around you. Possibility of him manifesting you as their specific person with one sided love (on his side), or you both are manifesting each other unaware you both are looking for the same qualities in each other. He is someone who likes to subtly touch you and apologize gracefully for others when you know damn well he is bullshitting. He is someone who focuses on being the best version of himself for the wealth that streams from his wallet. Meaning, it does not matter who you are, he is going to do everything in his power to take what is his. Even if that means it is you and your private parts.

Some of you actually have already had sex with him and have made him your friend with benefits, or you have somewhat of a situationship. During sex, they absolutely love to grope your ass, always telling you how perfect it is and how it fits right with his dick. How it thrusts nicely into your ass or pussy (depending on your situation). Or how it feels so warm on the tip of his dick as it hits and molds nicely into your sweet spot. He is the epitome of those mafia stories you see in smut stories or Wattpad stories (but very nicely done stories). He reeks of sexy perfume and dark red, adding a bit of dark blue if he were a color. His aura drags you in, which is how the both of you had sex in the bathroom, somewhere with people, whether it was hidden or risky, or how you both met if you don’t have a specific relationship with them. He is someone who will brag about how good his aftercare is but suck painfully with it and need your guide for it. His ego is through the roof, but you make this bastard soft as a puppy. He is aching to be around you, and when he is, he always struggles to hide his boner, or the bulge in his pants. He loves sucking your juices or will if you do decide to have sex or date him.

If you do decide to date him, the relationship will be gorgeous and surprisingly healthy considering how his mind runs. Or how you have seen him with others, the trope “I hate everyone, and I mean everyone but you and my pet” is really it. Key of advice: make sure to give him a blowjob during angry sex so he can become pudding and pamper you. His last lover never gave him oral, so he has been craving it, but also, it is part of a love language for him.

Masterlist.

Pile II.

It’s not a who, more so a what. Now, I know that sounds confusing, but let me make it clear. Do you speak to deities? Spirits, ghosts, and so forth that are associated with sexual energy? Because that is what I am picking up, and their energy is so soothing that you know you can trust them, and they are there to guide you through your journey. I would not say they are like spirit guides, or part of your ancestral guide, but they are similar to a teacher.

They are eyeing you because they want to protect you and make sure you follow their teachings. A lot of you are becoming impatient with your future spouse, lover, fwb, etc., coming to you and assuming every person that feels ‘’right’’ to you, or that you connect well with, is your lover/situationship. None of them that are coming are yours; you are supposed to meet them, and that is what they told you, so listen to them. They are meant to help you despite what others have said about them. Some of the people that you have spoken to were into this and have told you not to trust them because of what they are and the stories about them, but from an energy perspective, they are trustworthy and actually adore you. Now, I am always hesitant to talk about deity energy since I don’t know if the pile you are reading is actually for you or not, but I will give you signs that may help:

Lucifer, Lilith, Nyx, Athena, Zeus, Tlazolteotl, sponge it up, something to do with pain, tears, and breaking his heart, breaking my heart, Apollo is my certain love, and the demons of it’s figure.

Now, if these signs are not fitting with what you have seen, heard, spoken to, etc., then do not trust the deity you speak with. It does not matter if the deity you speak to is not in the sign list, it is only what signs were channeled. and what resonated. And if it does not fit through, please cleanse your energy fast and efficiently since I keep seeing red warning signs and alarms ringing in my head.

Moving on, your deity has spoken to you about the gifts your future person will bring into the relationship, but they have spoken about how you are being ungrateful with the circumstance you have right now. I understand that sometimes trying to figure out who your future person can be draining and exciting, but it can also cause weird paranoia. And that sometimes it feels like those mystery games, but you have to let it go, trust in your deity (and spirit guides for some), and work on yourself. You have to learn to trust your intuition about which deity you speak to, about who you have sex with, and when you masturbate (because intuition tells me you are causing yourself more pain in associating yourself with your trauma kinks/thoughts instead of focusing on what makes you feel good), and ignoring the signs that tell you to leave certain situations surrounding you. Your environment has a lot of toxicity, and you only stay in them so you do not feel lonely, but sometimes it is a good thing to be lonely since you learn a lot about who you are. And that is something you need and what your deities have been telling you. Some of you are ignoring their teachings because you use people to hide away from your pain.

You need to talk to yourself as you would with someone else that you felt close to and get to know yourself as a best friend. Learn to appreciate your behaviors that you find “repulsive,” and understand that it is okay to be different than everyone else. Being different is not repulsive, it is a beautiful and cool thing. Fitting in is what is ruining your relationship with yourself and your future person. So instead of being so impatient about something that can happen within the year, why don’t you use that time to do better for yourself? Because at the end of the day, the only person who is stopping you is you. You are the person who can change your world, even if it is something small. For example, let’s say you are living in a toxic environment, but you have a desire to learn all you can? You can use free resources that allow you to. The internet has the same resources that allow you to learn, you do not need courses to learn or scholarly reports to learn. Everything is available to us now because of how broad the internet is. Now, you could have complained about it, but you did not and decided to do better for yourself and change. One step at something is much better than doing absolutely nothing. Even if you read something for a minute, it can still benefit you.

I felt like something was missing when I was editing your work, but some of you have to understand this fully. You cannot manifest your future person either. Some of you thought about it throughout this pile, and like I mentioned, I understand how desperate you are for love, but this paranoia that is surrounding you and your heart is the problem. I understand that you can manifest anything, and it does not matter how you do it, but you have this belief that it does matter, and you must have emotions in order to manifest. So instead, why don't you have a clear mind and heart for this person, so when you do meet them, you can be better for both yourself and them as well as make it easier for yourself to manifest with a clear conscience? Do not be your own blockage when it comes to this or sabotage yourself through your overwhelming paranoia that surrounds your mind every second of your time.

Masterlist.

Pile III.

Your first kiss back from August when you were either a kid or a teenager. You still keep in touch with them. I wouldn’t say the kiss meant anything between you both, I would say it happened by accident for the both of you until now. Have you noticed their flirty remarks with you, especially when you hang out around others, how they only gaze at you despite others coming to flirt with them, how they pamper you for no reason, or how they are doing it more frequently, how they decided it would be best if they stood next to you where the cars are located rather than the other way around? How they believe it is important for you to suddenly take care of yourself, and though some of you already do, they make it somewhat overbearing, but you push it aside because it is them. Have you also noticed how doting they are with you, how sometimes they coddle you, or how they make sure you have taken your medication when it comes to your body or latest surgery? Have you noticed all of these, or have you been pushing them aside because you would rather stay oblivious instead of admitting your teenage crush has feelings for you, or perhaps has already fallen in love with you? With your ability to be genuine with everyone, with your ability to show people respect and compassion without seeking anything back, with your ability to write efficiently without the need to re-edit your work, with your ability to be smooth when you think you are being geeky and awkward. Have you also noticed how they make somewhat dirty remarks only around you? Have you noticed they do it out of respect for your body and privacy, and yet you still decide to ‘’act’’ oblivious because it is too scary to admit they like you back? The word "back” scares you, it is like your heart is trying to escape, but a strong pull is pushing you back into the same corner. It is not a bad thing to be committed to someone in a relationship, but for you, being stuck in one relationship and not having the ability to explore with others seems suffocating. And for you, all of this stems from trauma, that one memory you are pushing away in hopes it gets pushed away as well.

I am not the person to decide for you whether or not you explore this relationship with them; all I will mention are some things that may change your mind since that is what your heart is begging for you to do. As well as some key things to help you heal.

When things become tough for you, your favorite activity is throwing the relationship away or sabotaging your achievements through disrespecting your honor and then laughing about it. When things become tough, it is easier for you to feel shame or regret rather than deal with the toxicity of your actions. And lastly, when things become tough, it is easier for you to be your own ruthless villain than to take accountability for your wrongdoings. Yet, at the end of the day, there is one person who has always stayed by your side, never changing their mind on who you are because they know how far you can go. They know how much potential you would have if you allowed yourself to deal with your sadness and realize that being sad is not a weakness nor is it a blessing. Our emotions are simply emotions, they come and go. Sometimes they make us realize some things, giving us mental clarity, and other times, they are a reminder of how we feel about the situation, or internally. In short, emotions are subjective and man made, therefore, feeling those emotions should not be the problem when it comes to challenges arising. You should understand that you are the one creating those emotions.

For example, let’s say that I am dealing with a breakup. The usual response would be to cry about it and think about them constantly, be angry and try to seek revenge or be petty, maybe sleep around and brush them out of my mind, etc. But this would stem from how secure I am with who I am and how our relationship was like. Though, if I were secure, then I would understand what had happened, use that sadness as an opportunity to improve, and learn the lessons. Embrace the fond memories, or perhaps use those memories to find someone better for myself. But then again, this is my idea of how a breakup would go if someone was healthy or unhealthy. How do you see it? You have to ask yourself this.

Once you have asked yourself this and finally understood it, ask yourself another question. “Why do I feel the need to distance myself from those that actually care for me? What am I seeking when I do this, and how is it helping me?” Asking this will help you understand if you actually want a relationship in the first place and help trigger those fears in a safe manner instead of you pushing yourself to be someone else when you answer self-aware questions.

Now that you have asked these and fully understood them, allow me to speak about your friend, and then it will be your choice. And if you need to stop this reading and come back after a month, then please read this when you are fully ready.

This person has been by your side when you ruin your past relationships. They are someone who will stop what they are doing to be by your side or help you when your past comes back to you. Sometimes, they will pamper you with fresh fruits or hot meals and hope it can soothe your mind away from those thoughts that have been affecting you lately. They are someone who will soothe your tears with kisses or caress your tears away with pure determination; someone who sees the bright side of things when you think it is better to be realistic and pessimistic. They are someone who texts you faster and makes sure your feelings are taken into consideration, as well as your family (if you are close with them) or your pet that may be sick at the moment, and if not, your pets. They will buy you the things you adore without any expectations or seeking your validation (your exs were like that). They are someone who will be firm with you when you make a mistake but not allow you to walk over them. They are someone who sets boundaries with you and others, and though it does not go well with others, they keep their head high and focus on what is more important to them. They are someone who hates the concept of gossip and makes sure to not engage, and when they are pulled into it, they act oblivious and make sure people see them as ‘dumb’ or ‘silly.’ To them, it is better to be seen as that than engage with something repulsive like that. They are someone who makes sure they uplift people, especially behind their back, and you have seen it multiple times, thus causing your heart to fall for them.

Yeah, you are crushing on them hard since you were young but have been pushing away from your past experiences. Some of you are actually in love with them but keep gaslighting yourselves because it is easier for you. And ironically, ‘Love Someone’ by Lukas Graham popped up. It fits quite well with how they view you and how you view this whole situation. I believe there is nothing else to channel because once you listen to the song, everything will make sense.

Masterlist.

[eshehdafah]

Coming back to this over a month later after a 20m scroll back through my blog specifically to find it. I said I would talk about this, and I will.

I created my first proper OC, Stella, at age 17, in Jan or Feb of 2016. Xenoblade X was *the* game for me at the time, and I spent a few hours messing around with the character creator. I'd made a different 'character' to actually do the story on, but he didn't feel...right. So I did my work and moved on.

Stella was heavily inspired by Black Rock Shooter, one of the first anime I watched. I took my bitterness at my school experiences, all the bullying and exclusion and boundary-invasions (the last of which being by adults too), and gave it all to her. She had a very barebones backstory of her time on Earth, and her friend group, that she had trained up herself to be adequate combatants, all perished in an incident she blamed herself for. Given how specific this version of her backstory is to the world of Xenoblade X, I don't feel that this is an appropriate place to expand upon it.

She was hurting. An open wound. She fought viciously, ran headlong into danger heedless of her own life, and was at times very jaded and pessimistic. There was an AU going around the fandom at one point that I threw her into, turning her into a wrongfully-assigned criminal on the run in a world where the rules said she had to be erased from existence, even though everyone knew she had done nothing wrong.

How appropriate that I came out as trans a few years later.

Stella has been with me as a character for 8 years now. She's grown into a compassionate soul, ready to defend those she cares about and those who need that help. She still fights viciously, but it's now less because of a desensitisation towards violence, and more because she knows she *has* to fight her hardest no matter what.

One thing she won't do is lay down her life for someone else. She has a drive to not just survive, but to *live*, for herself and for others, to see what tomorrow will bring. That's more than I can say for my current state, and for most of the 26 years of my life so far. But it's what she deserves.

I sometimes think back to that time in early 2016, creating her as a character. Did I know I was choosing the path my life would take? Of course not. I was just making a character that felt more comfortable for me to play. But I took her name as my own, and her ambitions and goals as my own. I put her in situations, not ones made to harm her, but ones where she can do me proud.

I've sent her back in time to do it all over again, armed with the power and knowledge to save everyone (within narrative constraints of course, Fhail Ahm Lohs Daih is a story I pride myself on with regards to respecting and understanding the source material). I've played her in multiple TTRPG campaigns, and in each one she's an absolute min-maxed powerhouse, a force of nature, my GM and I working together to make her fit into the worlds.

When I ran my own campaign set in Bleach, I let that older side of her out, her power and traumas manifesting as a Bankai that forced her to (harmlessly, but symbolically) self-harm in order to release it. It was incredibly cathartic to me to be able to explore that side of her character, the side that did not value her own life and would sacrifice it for others in a heartbeat. I laid that portion of her to rest with that campaign, and both me and her feel all the better for it.

She continues to get development to this day. Her main home now is in FFXIV, but with Xenoblade X Switch on the horizon, I plan to make her again there. I wonder how her interactions with that world will change nearly a decade later.

I have other OCs too, of course. Arven, Candice, Ashe/Camelia. Arven is more confident and flirtatious, and specialises in fire magic. Candice, a character created for a 3-year-long campaign and never used outside of it, began as a teenager who was unsure of her place in the world, and grew to become something more. And Ashe/Camelia, a character I originally created as a result of trauma I went through in 2020 with both family and former friends, is now the one who holds much of the bitterness and edge that Stella used to carry. Kiriya, the lifeless shell that Stella took over and repurposed the body of to her own ends, will never return to this world, and thus I do not count him among my OCs, even if I owe him a life debt for helping me take those first steps of self-discovery.

But Arven is not who I want to be, she's an idealised partner for Stella with little development in regards to any flaws or shortcomings. Candice is the childhood I never had. Ashe, an identity assumed, is but a false name for Camelia, the scared little girl at the core who wants to scream at the world and ask it why life is suffering and cruelty. They all help me shoulder my burdens in different ways.

And Stella has been here since the start. She means more to me than I could ever put into words.

actually creating an oc at 16 and not really thinking much of it at the time but then having no choice but to carry her with you in your soul as you experience the next 10 years of your life and your first foray into adulthood and you return to her again and again in moments where you need comfort and familiarity and you wait to hear what happens to her next meanwhile everything is happening to you at once and next thing you know you're 26 and she's outgrown you by a decade but she's wiser and softer and less angry and so are you and there are lines at the corners of her eyes and you have them now too and you hear her voice again and it makes you feel like you're 16 sitting at your dad's computer desk again and its sad because you're not sitting there anymore and you never will again but its okay because she got the happy ending she wanted and you know that you will too. anyway.

[kunareads]

kiss it better

sukuna x reader

when your ex shows up unexpectedly, your boyfriend reminds you exactly who you belong to

wc: 4.5k

partly based on a true story </3

content: brief mention of emotional abuse (not from sukuna), slight anxiety, spanking, unprotected piv sex, oral (f! receiving), fingering, dom/sub dynamics kinda, general filth, cutesy aftercare (!!!)

18+ please i block children <3

you're out with sukuna and your mutual friends, laughter spilling out in waves as you all shuffle into the restaurant. the place hums with energy, clinking glasses and soft murmurs blending with bursts of hearty laughter. you take your seat across from him, his gaze settling on you with an intensity that's both comforting and unreadable, a subtle reassurance of his presence.

everything feels easy at first. the conversation flows, the food comes out steaming and fragrant, and you're immersed in the warmth of the group. gojo is mid-story, grinning mischievously as he leans forward. "last week, utahime tried to parallel park for like… twenty minutes. twenty. minutes."

"shut up, gojo," utahime snaps, her glare piercing. "the space was tiny!"

"the space could have fit a truck," gojo says, holding back laughter. "there was a crowd cheering her on by the time she finished."

"at least i didn't hit anything," utahime fires back. "unlike you last month."

"let's not get sidetracked. this is about you," he retorts with a wink.

"you're insufferable," she mutters, crossing her arms.

"you're both ridiculous," you say, grinning and shaking your head as you take a sip of sukuna's drink. the banter swirls around you, warm and familiar.

and then you catch sight of someone two tables down. your breath catches before you can stop it, heart stumbling over itself as your ex-boyfriend's gaze locks onto yours for the briefest second. you look away quickly, forcing yourself to focus on the conversation surrounding you. you don't say anything.

you lean over to sukuna, your voice low to keep from interrupting the group's laughter. "have to pee. i'll be back in a minute," you say. his eyes flick to yours, searching, and his hand lightly squeezes your arm.

when you enter the bathroom, the mirror glares back at you as you lean forward, palms braced against the sink, eyes burning. flashes of the past hit you—the way he would twist your words, make you question your own reality. the nights he'd pick fights out of nowhere, his voice cutting sharper than any blade. how you'd leave arguments feeling like you'd done something wrong, even when you hadn't.

your breath stutters as you force the memories back, swiping liner and gloss across your lips to steady your shaking hands. a quick touch-up, a calming breath, and you're heading back out.

sukuna notices immediately. of course he does. his eyes linger a second too long as you settle back into your seat, the faint crease of his brow betraying his concern.

recognition sweeps his expression when he looks toward the table where your ex sits. he knows exactly who the man is and what he's done to you, knows the full weight of the memories you carry, cradled you through them long before this relationship even started. his jaw tightens, and his fingers drum once on the table.

choso, observant as ever, notices and leans in slightly, his voice low and steady as he murmurs, "focus on her, not him." sukuna's shoulders relax just a fraction. he smooths his features back to their usual calm. he doesn't say anything as he grabs your hand over the table, just looks at you reassuringly. he’ll let you talk about it if you want to, the way he always has.

+++

it’s easy to lose yourself in the night as it goes on. the group hops from one bar to another, each stop adding to the warmth in your chest. sukuna is at your side, doting on you in ways that feel instinctive. he’s making sure you have snacks, that your drink is always topped off, even pulling you onto the dance floor for the songs he knows you love.

"come dance with me," he requests, extending his hand toward you as a new song starts. his smirk softens as he leans closer, his voice quieter now. "come dance with me," he murmurs, his tone steady, almost reassuring. "i've got you."

his demeanor leaves little room for argument, and you let him guide you to the floor, his touch warm and steady. it's impossible not to laugh as he spins you around, his moves teasing but surprisingly smooth, pulling you further into the moment.

"did you see her moves?" gojo teases as you both make your way back to the group after a few songs, breathless and laughing. "i think you might have a future in interpretive dance."

"shut up," you giggle, swatting at him.

sukuna smirks, handing you a glass of water. "ignore him. he's jealous he can't keep up."

"jealous? of that?" gojo shoots back with mock indignation, throwing a hand over his chest. "please, i'm a national treasure."

"you're a national headache," utahime mutters, sipping her drink. "but at least you're consistent." the group erupts into laughter, the warmth of their camaraderie making you forget everything else. the food, the drinks, the jokes that make your cheeks ache from smiling so much. you're happy, you realize.

at the third stop of the night, your phone buzzes. you glance down and see a text. from an unsaved number that you recognize too quickly.

so u not gonna say hi?

you're drunk now, and the edges of your vision blur just slightly as you try to focus on the words. your stomach twists, the alcohol amplifying the unease that settles heavily in your chest.

but you school your features, slipping the phone back into your pocket with a shaky hand. it's a problem for tomorrow. you're not going to let it ruin this night.

+++

the following day, everything's back to normal. sunlight spills through the windows as you lounge on the couch, nursing a slight hangover in sukuna’s shirt and panties, watching some shitty reality tv that's more noise than entertainment.

the text from last night barely crosses your mind. it feels like a distant, unimportant thing. sukuna's in the next room finishing up some work. your phone is in there with him, left charging on his desk. you haven't even thought to check it.

his voice calls you in, low and casual. "c'mere," he says, leaning back in his chair with an air of effortless confidence. you step into the room and he's waiting, one arm over the armrest, the other reaching out to pull you closer.

"took you long enough," he begins, looking up at you with a faint smirk. "thought you forgot about me."

"it's only been a minute, ‘kuna" you counter softly, letting him draw you in. his grip is firm but not demanding, his touch grounding as ever.

"i love you, you know that?" he murmurs against your skin, his lips brushing along your jaw, smiling when he feels your nod.

"you're mine," he says, the words low and sure, not a demand but a statement, a claim. his lips press against your jaw, praise slipping out between kisses. "you're fucking perfect, and you're all mine."

a tension you hadn't recognized before snaps, his movements losing their gentleness as he claims your attention completely, the air electric with the shift.

his hands guide your movements until you're bent over the edge of the bed, your breath hitching in anticipation. he runs fingers up your spine, his touch making you shiver.

a hand comes down hard against your ass, the slap echoing in the silence, pain blooming under his palm. it catches you off guard, a yelp escaping as your body jerks, reflexes scrambling to process the sudden sensation. the sting fades quickly, leaving a deep warmth in its wake.

you can hear him chuckle behind you. his fingers trail lightly across the redness on your ass. "so responsive."

a hand rests at the small of your back, warm and steady, before another sharp, unexpected sting blossoms against your skin. this spank is harder than anything he's ever given you before.

"what—" you start, but your words falter as heat spreads through you.

he leans down, his voice low and smooth in your ear. "the text," he states, his tone calm but laced with unmistakable authority. he pulls your phone into your line of sight, the screen lighting up with the message you didn't open. "you weren't going to tell me?"

"it wasn't important," you manage, your voice barely above a whisper.

"hmm," he muses, his palm sliding over the curve of your ass, soothing the spot he spanked. the motion makes you tense, a hint of nervousness settling in the pit of your stomach now.

"he's nothing," he says harshly. "you don't hide things from me. especially not about him. you know that." his words make your breath catch, the atmosphere shifting to something unfamiliar. the air between you crackles, his possessiveness undeniable and exhilarating.

he connects a hand to your ass again, a sharp slap that sends another spark of pain through you. he keeps a steady rhythm, strikes coming hard and fast. the ache builds, his palm leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

you can't help the noises that escape your throat or the tears that prickle at the corners of your eyes.

a sob slips out, and his hand pauses. his other hand slides up your side, his thumb wiping a stray tear from your cheek.

"you're okay, pretty baby," he soothes, his tone gentle, a stark contrast to the harshness just moments ago. his lips press against the small of your back.

"'m sorry, 'kuna," you sniffle.

he hums, his hand rubbing over the redness on your ass, the sensation making you whimper. "i know."

your body moves instinctively as he soothes your ass and admires his work, pressing back against his crotch as a new sensation washes over you, an intensity that feels raw and real.

"fuck," he groans. the sound makes heat pool low in your core, the ache building as the pain bleeds into something more, a strange mix of pleasure and discomfort that leaves you desperate. "you take it so well," he praises. "everything i give you."

his hand slips between your legs, brushing over your clothed clit. a spark shoots through you as you inhale sharply, pleasure coiling at the contrast between the sting of his hand and the tenderness of his fingers.

you can hear the smirk. "and you're soaked," he says, his voice laced with approval. "did that turn you on?"

"y-yes," you manage, barely above a whisper.

he chuckles darkly, his breath hot on the back of your neck as he pushes your shirt over his head and starts pressing kisses down your spine.

you whimper, your mind struggling to process as the sting lingers and desire ripples through you, the contrast delicious.

he kneels behind you, pressing kisses to the welts now forming on your ass. his tongue is soft against the sore, sensitive skin as he strokes over your panties, gentle at first, then more insistent. you exhale, leaning into his touch. the contact is maddeningly light, and it's not enough.

"more, 'kuna," you gasp.

"you'll take what i give you," he replies, his tone unyielding.

the words send a shudder through you. the ache in your core is so intense that it's almost painful, your body throbbing with need.

his fingers trace the lace edges of your panties, slipping under the fabric to feel your soaked pussy. the touch makes you moan, your hips arching as you press back onto his hand.

"is this what you need?" his voice is low, his touch gentle as he slowly slips two fingers into you.

"yes," you gasp, grinding against his hand. his thumb presses down on your clit, and it's too much. "please," you pant. "i need it. please, 'kuna"

his hand lands on your ass again, the crisp slap followed by the sound of your yelp. "you're going to cum on my mouth," he instructs. "and if you're good, i'll let you cum on my dick."

your heart thuds at his words. he pulls your panties down, exposing your dripping cunt.

he turns so his back is to the bed with you still bent over the edge. his face dips between your legs and he wraps his hands around the backs of your thighs, pulling you onto his face. he wastes no time licking a broad stripe over your cunt. his grip on you tightens as he groans, the vibration sending a jolt through you.

"'kuna," you whimper, pressing down against him, needing more. he laps at your cunt hungrily, his tongue dragging over your clit, and you can't help the loud moan that escapes your throat.

he spreads you open for himself, fingers grazing the swelling pink welts as he slurps at your dripping pussy. he's sucking your clit and fucking into you with his tongue, the pleasure overwhelming. the sound is filthy, and it only adds to the ache building inside of you.

"fuck, 'kuna," you gasp. "please don't stop."

he hums and presses a finger into you, and you gasp, clenching around him. his lips close over your clit, sucking as he slides another finger in, pumping them slowly.

"oh fuck," you moan, gripping the bedsheets. his slow pace is unbearable, and your hips buck, searching for more.

his grip on you tightens as he pushes deeper, hitting a spot that makes your vision blur.

"fuck," he groans, pulling away. "always taste so fucking good."

your eyes squeeze shut. "please," you moan.

"please what?" he asks, and you can hear the mocking grin on his face.

"please let me cum," you gasp.

he pauses his movements and you whimper.

"do you deserve to cum?" his voice is low, almost a purr.

you whine, your head spinning. you don't know how to answer, and his hand comes down, the sound ringing out and stinging your already sore skin.

"i asked you a question."

"i don't kn—"

"yes, you do," he cuts in, his tone firm. "always such a perfect girl for me. you deserve to cum."

he picks up his pace and the pressure builds, the ache coiling deep inside of you as you grind down against his mouth, chasing the pleasure.

his fingers curl, hitting that spot over and over until your vision blurs and the room spins. the heat is intense, and the pleasure coils so tight you feel like you're about to explode.

"fuck," he breathes, his lips brushing over the spot where your thigh meets your pussy. "such a pretty little thing when you're desperate. want you to cum all over my face."

he sucks at your clit again, maintaining the steady pace of his fingers, and you're right at the edge. you feel his lips turn up into a smile against you, and he curls his fingers, hitting that spot again.

"cum for me, pretty baby."

"i'm gonna — 'kuna, i'm—"

his hand comes down again, landing with a slap. the feeling tips you over the edge and your words falter as the orgasm hits, bliss crashing over you, your thighs clamping down around his head. it's intense, your muscles spasming as time slows. his biceps flex as he holds you in place, and he keeps working his fingers, his pace never slowing despite the way you clench hard around him.

he doesn't let up, his tongue lapping at your oversensitive cunt, his fingers continuing their assault.

"wait, wait," you gasp. "'kuna, please, please, i can't—"

"you can," he says, his voice a low growl.

the tension in your core is so tight that it's almost painful, each brush against your clit making you shudder.

"that's it, sweetheart," he breathes. "fuck, i can feel you getting close again." his words send a rush of heat through you, and he doesn't let up, his touch driving you mad.

"c'mon, sweet girl," he coaxes. "be good for me."

your toes curl, and a moan rips from your throat, the tension snapping as another orgasm hits. the sensation is intense, fire licking at every part of your body.

his tongue slows, dragging over your folds lazily. he presses a few soft kisses there before he pulls back. he grins with slick lips, lifting you onto the bed from underneath.

you're trembling, barely able to move as he turns you on your back, sliding a pillow under your head. the room is spinning slightly and your limbs are heavy, the aftershocks of pleasure still rippling through you.

he lays next to you, studying you as you catch your breath, face caught somewhere between lust and obvious concern.

"okay?" he asks softly.

you nod. "just... need a minute.

he gives you space, stroking your hair, feeding you water from the bottle by the bed and cooing when it dribbles down your chin.

once your breathing returns to normal, you look at him to find that his expression has changed again, something predatory creeping into the lines on his face.

"who do you belong to?" his voice is steady, his tone unwavering.

"you," you breathe.

"say it."

"i'm yours," you say, meeting his gaze.

"again."

"i'm yours, 'kuna."

"mine," he repeats, his fingers sliding into your hair and gripping tight. "all mine."

your breath catches as his lips crash into yours. the kiss is hot, urgent. you whimper against him, the sound muffled, and he breaks away, leaving a trail of bites along your jaw. his hands are firm on your body, and his touch burns, the ache building again.

"tell me how bad you want it," he says.

"need you," you gasp as he moves down to suck on a nipple, and he chuckles.

"not good enough."

he presses a hand against the base of your neck, fingers splayed. his grip isn't tight, but the threat of his strength is undeniable.

"what do you need, sweetheart?"

"need you to fuck me," you reply, face burning hot with shame. "please."

he smirks, pupils blown wide with lust.

"so polite," he says, his voice thick with arousal. "my sweet girl."

he stands and sheds his clothes, the fabric landing in a pile on the floor before he gets back on the bed to kneel before you.

he's rock hard and your mouth waters as he wraps a hand around his dick. his grip is firm and his strokes are quick and smooth, his tip leaking.

"i'll give you what you need," he says, his eyes locked on yours.

"thank you, 'kuna," you whisper.

"you're welcome, pretty baby," he murmurs.

he studies you, shifting forward to run his tip over your swollen clit. the touch is gentle, making your back arch, a whine escaping your throat.

"shh," he coos, his hand coming up to stroke the side of your face.

"'m sorry," you whimper.

he shakes his head, his expression softening. "no need," he comforts, shifting closer, lining himself up with your entrance. "let me make you feel good."

you can't respond, the words lost as he pushes into you. the stretch is eased by your previous orgasms, but the weight of him makes you moan, the sound low and guttural.

he pauses, letting you adjust, his breath catching as your cunt flutters around him. "fuck, there we go," he says, his voice thick. "take me so well."

he shifts, wrapping his arms around your torso, his thrusts slow and deep. his movements are deliberate, and each push feels like heaven. his touch is tender, his kisses soft, his body warm and comforting against yours.

he pushes the hair away from your face, soothing you as you start to lose yourself in his arms.

"my sweet girl," he coos, pressing kisses to your face. "so good for me."

he rolls his hips, each stroke slow and deliberate. the drag of his dick against your walls is exquisite, and the friction sends a shock of pleasure through you, your back arching, eyes rolling back.

"'m yours," you whimper.

he kisses along your jaw, his touch firm but gentle, his praise steady.

"so beautiful," he rasps.

"'m yours," you repeat.

"yeah, sweetheart," he breathes. "all mine."

"yours," you whisper.

"and i'm yours," he says. "only yours."

you're shaking, the words making your heart pound.

"i love you, 'kuna," you whisper, meeting his gaze with teary eyes.

"i love you too, sweet girl" he replies, his voice hoarse.

"so good to me," you mumble, burying your face in his neck.

"always," he replies.

he keeps his pace steady, his thrusts shallow and slow, his lips pressing soft kisses to your temple. you feel safe like this, wrapped up in his arms, his steady thrusts making you tremble.

"'m close," you whimper.

"i got you," he breathes. "let go, sweetheart. let go for me."

your eyes slide closed, his words pushing you over the edge, the pleasure white-hot and intense, his touch anchoring you. the orgasm is drawn out by his slow movements, and he doesn't stop, fucking you straight through it.

"fuck," he groans. "so fucking good."

he leans back suddenly and puts your ankles on his shoulders. the angle allows him to push even deeper, and the shift makes you moan loudly, his thrusts harder and faster now. his movements are measured, his gaze locked on yours, the intensity between you palpable.

"tell me who you fucking belong to," he demands, his voice rough.

"you, 'kuna," you gasp.

"who the fuck's making you feel good?"

"you," you pant, the sound broken and raw.

"fuck," he groans, his pace picking up, his thrusts faster now, his movements more erratic. "so fucking perfect."

the words make you whimper, and you squeeze around him, the pressure making him moan.

you feel your mind go blank. the only thing you know is his touch, his command, the feeling of him filling you.

"'kuna," you gasp.

"i know, pretty baby," he breathes.

his hips slam into yours, his grip around your thighs unforgiving, his pace brutal now, the room filled with the slap of skin on skin.

he watches the hearts form in your eyes, that distant stare, the look of blissed-out submission. his gaze is intense, lips turning up in a feral grin.

"there's my good girl," he growls, his voice dripping with pride. "fuck, look at you, taking my cock so fucking well. my perfect little slut."

you clench around him with a dazed smile, his words sending a jolt through you. the coil in your core is tightening, the ache so strong that it almost hurts.

"'kuna," you whimper.

"that's it," he growls. "such a good girl."

he pounds into you, his movements relentless, his grip tight.

you’re not thinking, only able to focus on the sensation of his dick inside you.

"'s too much," you gasp.

"no, sweet girl," he replies. "you can take it. be good for me."

your hands reach for his face. he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him, his hips moving in sharp, deep thrusts. the change in position has your thighs up against your torso now, the force of his thrusts almost bruising.

"p-please," you stutter.

"just a little more," he breathes, his thrusts slowing slightly.

"fuck," you gasp, your nails digging into his skin.

"come on, sweet girl," he coaxes, his pace picking up again.

you squeeze around him again and he moans, his hips stuttering, his rhythm faltering. he shifts, adjusting so his lips are pressed against your ear.

"love watching you take me," he pants. "my perfect girl."

his words send a shudder through you, and the coil in your core threatens to snap.

"'m gonna — 'kuna," you stutter, and another orgasm crashes over you, your vision blurring.

"yes," he hisses, his movements losing their rhythm. "fuck, fuck."

his grip on you tightens as his own climax hits. his eyes roll back, and he thrusts into you twice more. he groans into your neck, his movements slow now, the room filled with the sound of his moans, your soft whimpers. his chest is heaving, and his arms are shaking slightly.

"i love you, sweet girl," he tells you, kissing your face.

"i love you, too," you whisper, voice cracking.

"you're everything, my love."

"always gonna be yours, 'kuna," you sniffle, and he presses another kiss to your forehead.

he holds you for a moment, silence enveloping the room as his heart rate slows, the sound of his breath quieting. he pulls out slowly, and a rush of warmth pools between your legs. his cum drips from you, the sensation making you blush.

"don't move," he murmurs, sliding off the bed and heading into the bathroom.

the sound of running water drifts from the open door, and a moment later, he returns carrying a damp washcloth. he gently wipes the sticky mess between your legs, the cloth soft against you.

"thank you, 'kuna," you murmur, and he kisses your forehead before tossing the cloth onto the pile of clothes on the floor.

the intensity is gone now. the room is quieter, but your senses remain heightened, details amplified in the aftermath. sukuna shifts into a softer rhythm, the sharp edges of his earlier demeanor melting away entirely.

he moves with care, his fingers brushing damp strands of hair from your face with tender precision. his touch is grounding, his presence an anchor as he steadies you.

"didn't hurt you too much, did i?" he asks, his voice low and filled with a quiet vulnerability. his thumb grazes your cheek, the touch warm and reassuring as his eyes search yours for any sign of discomfort.

"no," you manage, your voice soft and your lips turning into a small smile. "i'm okay."

his shoulders relax visibly, and a faint smile tugs at his lips as he leans forward to press a lingering kiss to your forehead. "good," he whispers, his breath brushing against your skin. "you're everything to me, you know that?"

he shifts carefully, reaching for the blanket draped at the edge of the bed and wrapping it around you. he pulls you against his chest, his arms encircling you in a protective hold, his steady breathing matching the rhythm of your own as it slows.

"you did so good," he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm in the stillness of the room. "always so good for me." his lips press against your temple, his praise flowing steadily, each word deliberate and grounding. his hand moves gently along your back, his touch careful, as though reminding you of his devotion.

you feel tears burning in your eyes, not from negativity but because of how loved you feel, have always felt, by him. a few trickle down your cheeks, and his grip tightens slightly.

his heart pounds and you can feel the way his chest rises and falls as his breathing hitches, a shaky exhale falling from his lips. he knows exactly how much you need him.

"'m right here, sweetheart. you're safe," he says softly, his tone carrying the certainty you need. he rocks you back and forth slightly. "i've got you. always."

your senses gradually settle as the weight of the moment shifts into something calmer, safer. one of his hands strokes softly along your back while the other remains firm around your waist, his voice threading into the quiet with reassurances.

as the quiet deepens, the room feels softer, almost sacred, wrapped in the warmth of his embrace. your eyes close slowly, the weight of his words and the steady rhythm of his heart drawing you into a space of perfect calm. his hold is unwavering, a reminder that here, in his arms, you are completely safe.

[silvermoon424]

English Edition Sailor Moon Manga

There are 4 official English translations of the Sailor Moon manga, spanning from 1997 all the way to 2025. I've seen some confusion over what's what, so I thought it'd be helpful to make a post outlining each edition.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

TokyoPop/Mixx/Chix Comics (1997-early 2000s):

The OG translation and the only official one we had for many years. The translation uses names from the DiC dub, although Usagi is named "Bunny" instead of "Serena." Like most early English translations, the manga was flipped/mirrored and read from left to right to make it reader-friendly for American audiences who were unfamiliar with manga. Eventually this standard faded into obscurity and now we have the famous "STOP! You're reading the wrong way!" page.

Going into the whole history of this translation is kind of a headache because it gets complicated, but just know that it was released as both single-chapter comic books and as actual manga volumes. There are 18 volumes of the manga, same as the original tankoban printing in Japan. The binding on these TokyoPop volumes was notoriously cheap and flimsy, so it's hard to find copies that are in good condition nowadays. Finally, the translation itself was not very good.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

Kodansha Edition (2011)

This was a big deal back in 2011, as the TokyoPop version had been out of print for many years and even back then it was hard to find them for a decent price. The Kodansha edition used the shinsoban (second printing) of the Sailor Moon manga. This printing features colored pages at the beginning of the volume. Some pages were also completely redrawn to match Naoko’s later style, most notably during the first two arcs. The initial 18 volumes of the manga have been consolidated down to 12 volumes, plus 2 additional volumes with the side stories collected apart from the main story.

Unfortunately, the English translation itself is infamous for being subpar (although it was still an improvement over the TokyoPop editions). The translation was overly literal and came across as stilted. Sometimes the translation was so literal they would mistranslate well-known phrases (the one I remember the most is Sailor Jupiter's attack being translated as "Spark Ring Wide Pressure" instead of "Sparkling Wide Pressure"). There were also a number of typos and inaccurate translations.

With all that said, I (and many others) still appreciate the Kodansha editions for giving me access to the Sailor Moon manga in a time when reading it was very important to me. Fortunately, it's been succeeded by two much better translations.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

The Eternal Editions (2018)

Imo the gold standard of Sailor Moon manga. It uses the kanzenban (完全版, lit. “perfect complete edition”) printing from Japan. This edition reproduces individual chapter covers, color pages, and side-stories from its original magazine run, features that are often omitted or converted to grayscale in standard tankobon releases (so basically, color pages are included throughout the entire volume instead of just the front like in the shinsoban edition).

The kanzenban/Eternal Edition retains the artwork changes made in the shinsoban/second printing. It consists of 10 volumes, with the side stories being interspersed throughout the main story; this is also the case with the first edition. Finally, the volumes themselves are large and printed on high-quality paper; it feels more like an artbook than a manga volume.

As for the translation itself, it feels much more natural and is a huge improvement over the previous two editions. I really can't go on enough about how high-quality this edition is. The only downside is that, because it's such high quality, it's more expensive than typical manga volumes (the list price for each volume is $27.99, but thankfully you can usually find them on sale). The volumes are also large and heavy so they're not really manga you can casually take to a coffee shop or whatever. Thankfully the final edition rectifies this issue.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

Naoko Takeuchi Collection (2022)

The final and most current edition. It's a budget-friendly alternative to the Eternal Editions. They feature the same improved translation, but are printed as smaller books on cheaper paper. Like the shinsoban/Kodansha edition, they only feature colored artwork at the beginning of the volume. It uses the kanzenban/Eternal Edition's consolidated format, so it consists of 10 volumes.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

"So What Should I Buy?"

The TokyoPop and Kodansha editions are out of print, so it really just comes down to whether you want the deluxe Eternal Edition or the more affordable and portable Naoko Takeuchi Collection. Because the translation is identical, which edition you buy should be based on your preferences regarding size, paper quality, colored artwork, etc.

Imo, if you're just getting into the Sailor Moon manga the Naoko Takeuchi Collection volumes are a perfect place to start. For people who already love the manga, I highly recommend splurging on the Eternal Editions. It took me like 2 years to buy all of them because I only let myself buy a volume every couple of months, but it was so worth it!

[jtl07]

Shenanigans prompt - avatrice as queer superheroes, one is out, the other not yet...

hey anon, apologies on the delay here - caught a bit of a cold over the weekend; hopefully this reads alright. decided to lean on a previous shenanigan where Bea is a super and Ava is The Halo...

"Uh oh, we've got a level 5 thinking face. Who do I have to go rough up?"

Beatrice blinks up at Ava, still in costume and hovering next to her on the rooftop that was completely empty just a few moments ago. Or hours, considering the deep darkness of the sky. Beatrice frowns, not used to losing track of time. Then Ava's words catch up to her. "What do you mean level 5?"

"Like yknow," Ava says, flipping onto her side in midair, as if lying on a couch. She's somehow also procured a bag of gummy bears that she offers to Beatrice. Beatrice waves it off, looks at her expectantly. "Like hurricanes and stuff. Your thinking face is intense. Sexy though, don't get me wrong -"

Beatrice rolls her eyes, ignores the brief rush of heat to her cheeks. "You're ridiculous."

"And you're running yourself more ragged than any of the fights we had this week. And I dunno about you, but this week was shit." Ava flips over onto her stomach, hovers towards Beatrice until their face to face. "Cmon. Talk to me."

Beatrice sighs. "It's dumb."

"Probably not but I'm still listening."

"It's just -" Beatrice bites at her lip "Pride is coming up." It's hard to ignore, what with all the decorations, all the excitement. It's also why she and Ava have been working so hard lately, to make sure the festivities are exactly that: festive, joyful; safe.

"Yeah! Cam said she's got my new cape with the rainbow lining ready. I'm so excited to wear it," Ava all but squeals, wiggling still in midair.

"I'm excited to see it," Beatrice says - and she's telling the truth, she is.

Ava touches down quietly. Takes Beatrice's hand. "But?"

A deep breath shudders out of Beatrice. Followed by a tremulous want: "I just wish I could do something like that too."

The words hang in the night air, held in the quiet space between them. There's so much Beatrice wishes she could do, that she could be. She can do all the super things - fly faster than the speed of sound, leap tall buildings in a single bound - but when it comes to being normal; when it comes to being simply Beatrice -

"You can, Bea." Ava wraps Beatrice's hand with both of hers, surrounding it in warmth. "But only if you want to."

"But -"

"No buts." Ava's voice is firm. "There's no duty in this. It has to be for you first." She tugs gently on Beatrice's hand and brings her in close; cradles Beatrice's head against her shoulder. "We have time, Bea. There's no rush. And when you're ready, I know a certain journalist who can write one hell of a coming out story. I should know: she wrote mine."

Beatrice laughs softly into the curve of Ava's neck. Presses a light kiss there. "Thank you, Ava." For loving me as I am.

[ishigamisenku]

This is why I love Dr.STONE so much. Because, not only does it give us an incredible story, but it presents us with questions that go far beyond the end of the story. An anime about science and rebuilding society offers us some incredible opportunities to ask questions and discuss some pretty philosophical topics; i.e. the morality of human beings, how well we'd handle a disaster such as this occurring, what we'd do about it, etc. We're met with moral dilemma early on with Tsukasa, and his opinion that they should NOT revive everyone and live in a world where we don't encounter the corporate greed and selfishness that has been alive and well for generations. He's seen the corruption this causes, and he wants to start anew. Give humanity a clean slate. Senku, a character that is presented as someone who leads with logic and reasoning over feeling and emotions, is of the opinion that they should revive EVERYONE regardless of age, race, social status, etc. He thinks everyone should have the chance to advance and move forward within this new world they've been given. The idea to him, as we all know, is very exciting. However, Senku also acknowledges that if they revive people too quickly, their resources will deplete fast, and they don't have what they need to sustain large populations of people...yet. So he agrees they need to be choosy on who they revive for now. It's only logical. Both offer really good points, and regardless of who you side with, there are some incredibly interesting aspects of both sides to explore.

SPOILERS below the cut. If you are not caught up in the manga and you don't like spoilers, please do not go past the cut. And buckle in friends, this accidentally became a long post.

The questions OP raises in this post are things I've thought a lot about as well. Do we just go along assuming that since Senku spearheaded this whole thing, he's the one that's essentially in charge? How much power does he hold? We know enough about Senku to know that while he is obviously a leader-type character, he surely wouldn't want to concern himself with leadership on a large scale such as being a head of state or government. Senku's got one thing on his mind, and it's science. He wants to be able to have time to work on his scientific endeavors, and continue to contribute towards the advancement of science. Buuuut he's also not alone in his leadership, since we know he has the four other "Wise Commanders." We DO see Gen kinda working as an ambassador of sorts, though. A Diplomat. So, seems that they put his yapping (affectionate) to good use. For what happens to the petrification device...At the end of the series, we discover the origin of the Medusa device, and their motivation is explained. (Albeit a rather lame motivation and the way this is handled story-wise is not my favorite, but I'll do a deep dive on my opinions on the Medusa origin on my own time.)

While the rest of the Medusa/Why-Men decide to leave and find some other intelligent life to leech off of, one of them stays behind. From this point on, this Medusa is primarily only seen with Senku, and we can assume he is the Why-Man Keeper. We can also infer this from the fact that when see him in Ch. 232, he is quite literally wearing the vacuum tube they keep Why-Man in on his body:

We also get this exchange in Ch. 3 of 4D Science:

Sooo my guess is Why-Man sticks with Senku. There never seems to be much issue with anyone else in the main cast interacting with it, but they do seem to have it guarded when Senku doesn't have it with him. They are definitely aware of the fact that if in the wrong hands, Why-Man can be used as a weapon, and they acknowledge that. The concept of using Why-Man for eternal life is also acknowledged, and they stay quiet about that because they don't want anyone trying to get their hands on it for that reason as well. This is also explored in the 4D science chapters through interactions between Chrome and Kaseki. But this brings us to the question of mothers being revived to see their children grown- Due to the petrification, any biological being petrified doesn't seem to physically age. Chronologically, technically, yes, but not physically. This was quite literally Why-Man's "gift" to humanity, as stated by Why-Man itself. As long as people remain petrified and their statues are kept safe from weathering or breakage, they'd be fine up until they are ready to be revived. We know this pretty early on. This is sort of best-case scenario given the issue of resources not being plentiful enough to sustain large populations, as mentioned earlier in this post. They can revive more people as they go along once they feel they can be properly sustained. But the unfortunate fact there is... anyone revived DOES go on to age. So that could absolutely lead to someone's child being revived before them, and once they are revived, they have to experience the shock of their child having aged while they seemingly didn't themselves. And that's a lot to process in a scenario where they already have to attempt to process the fact that they've been encased in stone for over 3,700 years. It's all just such an interesting scenario overall. Again, this is why I adore this story so much. Yes, it gets you really excited about humanity's ability to persevere, adapt, evolve, and overcome. But it also raises some really interesting scenarios for us to stop, sit, and think about. Buuuuut... maybe I just really like getting deep, philosophical, and existential. I know that's not everyone's vibe. If you read through all of my crazed rambling, thanks! And thank you for this post, OP. You raise some super great questions.

Thinking about how the world will never go back to “normal” after Senku brings everyone back. Given how nature has fully recovered cities, it’s going to take probable years to go back to the massive carrying capacity we had. How many will have to leave behind loved ones to be revived later down the line because they can’t sustain that many people? How many mothers will wake up with their children fully grown and older than them? And how will world politics regard Senku? What will happen to the petrifaction weapon? It’s so interesting and intriguing and the thing I think abt the most when Dr. STONE is mentioned. What happens when everyone is revived?

[ashes-writing-corner]

And we are back, literally on time for Nosferatu to come out! Yall gifmakers are gifts from the gods I swear! Thank you for all you do! And to those who read my story and enjoy it, yall are gifts too and I love all of you ^^

Taglist: @exactlyelegantwizard, @xenoanamorph, @hoeia-strigoi, @arwenkenobi48, @xanth420, @serpentdeath, and @landlockedmermaid77

If you want to be added to the taglist please let me know ^^

On to chapter 3!

Exile: A Nosferatu Fanfic

Chapter 3

You're not my homeland anymore. So what am I defending now?

Ellen was at a loss. She honestly had no idea what to do. How could this have happened? How could she have been so blind? Ever eternally…and the Beast had seriously meant it. Even in death they couldn't be parted. There had to be a way…something…anything. This was not how she wanted to spend her eternal rest, lying next to the monster who made her life a living hell.

Not just her life. Thomas’ too for the brief time he knew of the situation. Her beloved Thomas…she couldn’t help but wonder about him now. Where was he? Was he even alive? Ellen didn’t take him for the sort to take his own life, and she would be devastated if that were the case. He had been her everything after the Beast abandoned her initially.

Oh yes, he left her. He left her alone when she needed him most. Left her with nothing but trauma and a severely scarred soul and a heart to match. It had hurt, even if Ellen wouldn’t admit it aloud. She didn’t understand why he had pulled away so harshly, so suddenly. But he stopped answering her, stopped visiting her, leaving her with this numbing sadness. She had waited, and waited, weeks turning to months, before she met Thomas.

He had been one of the few suitors her father had found for her. He wasn’t rich, nor did he have a well known name, but Thomas was hard working, honest, and decent. All were qualities her dear papa had liked and respected about him. Despite her oddities, he was so kind to her, so warm, courteous, and gentle. A better suitor couldn’t be asked for. So no surprise they courted and finally Thomas asked her to marry him, which Ellen was quick to accept.

With her acceptance, she thought that was the end of it. The Demon was gone, she was happy, and had all she wanted. Ellen didn’t need wealth or a nice house or material things. She just wanted a peaceful, happy life with her sweetheart. That was all.

But of course, the dead can never stay dead for long…

Furie whined softly next to her on the bed, his ears flattened as if sensing her emotions. For a hound literally named Rage, he seemed to have very little of it. The wolfhound had literally stayed by her side for the past two days, keeping watch over her for his master. The Beast hadn’t come back, just as Ellen commanded, and it made her wonder: Was he bound still by her power? Did she still hold some sort of sway over him, even in death?

Ellen had tried to be kind in a sense. She had to kill him, there was no doubt in her mind about that. He needed to die. But she had tried to be kind as it happened, for the sake of what they once were to each other. That was only fair wasn’t it? Ellen had tried to give him one last kiss, one last small gesture of love before they were both gone. It was only meant to be kind, as a way to let go of what once was.

She gently pet Furie. “It’s okay. I’m alright. I promise. I just…have a lot on my mind”.

The wolfhound looked at her, his ears perked as if he were listening intently. Ellen chuckled, her first laugh since her death.

“I don’t know if you’d be able to understand. But…I don’t really have anyone else to talk to I suppose-”.

Furie whined, as if attempting to remind her there was someone she could talk to. Ellen shook her head.

“Trust me, I would rather much talk to you more than him. At least you don’t try to tell me I did the right thing for the wrong reason” Ellen paused, “I don’t understand. I don’t understand any of this. I know what the covenant said but I thought with death it would be done. I could be free. But I’m not and I don’t know why”.

She knew why. It said Ever Eternally…but she didn’t understand why that meant even after death. Ellen got up and looked out the window, peering out the expansive, glistening surroundings. For a second she thought she heard a voice, a soft collective of voices, on the wind calling her name somewhere in the distance. It sounded like the whispers of every person she ever knew: Thomas, Papa, Freidrich and Anna and their children, even the Demon’s voice could be heard among them. Ellen felt her mind go blank a moment, her eyes going a strange milky white color as though she had died again. Furie rose from the bed and growled, followed by a sharp bark, pulling Ellen back to herself.

She took a deep breath and blinked several times to recollect herself. Ellen turned to the dog, calming herself a little as he came to her side and whined, nuzzling her hand. She pet him, breathing deeply as her mind and spirit settled back into her body. What in the world was that, that strange call?

Ellen kept a hand on Furie’s head. “Good boy. Thank you…thank you so much. I think I might’ve been in a little bit of trouble had I somehow answered that”.

Furie whined, wagging his tail at her praise. He had sensed something was amiss and had been quick to pull his mistress back from what he thought was something that could and would seriously harm her. He was entrusted with her safety after all, and the wolfhound clearly took that job to heart.

“It’s always snowing here” Ellen looked outside again thoughtfully, “How about we go outside and do something fun?”

The wolfhound cocked his head curiously and Ellen smiled as she got up to change. She wasn’t sure if she really needed to dress warmly in this world, but she figured it was better to be safe than sorry. The wardrobe was shockingly full of clothes she remembered wearing in the other world…and there were others in there she had never seen. Older dresses, some furs that looked like they hadn’t been touched in ages. These weren’t hers. But yet, somehow, they felt familiar. The texture, the smell hiding beneath years of unuse…she knew these older articles of clothing somewhere. Again, it was like a memory from a dream she had a long time ago…

“Let go” she heard a voice sound in her head, one that was eerily similar to her own, but not quite hers, “Please…you have to let go…for me…”

In her mind’s eye, Ellen could see the image of a woman with a face like hers, but her hair was a shining copper color, and her eyes a deep blue tinged with green. She looked pale, deathly so, laying in bed looking at her dead in the eye. Her pale blue-purple lips trembled as she reached a quivering hand out to her.

“Please…love…I’m afraid…”

Ellen dropped the fur coat immediately, frightened by the dream. It was like looking at her own pale, dying face in a mirror. Only the reflection had spoken to her. She set the coat back in the wardrobe and grabbed one of her own warmer outfits for her outside activities, which Ellen wasn’t even sure if she wanted to do anymore.

No, no, she did want to. She needed to get out of this castle, out of this room, even for a short while. Even if it was to do something silly and childish with a large wolfhound at her side. Ellen redressed herself and motioned for Furie to follow her, something akin to excitement blooming in her chest. She hadn’t done this particular activity since she was little and she always loved doing it.

She made her way outside, surprisingly avoiding the Demon. Ellen glanced around, rendered breathless by the glistening snow around her. It was as though the grounds of the castle were being purified under a blanket of white. Ellen stepped out, the soft snow giving out a satisfying crunch under her booted feet. Furie followed behind her, his tail wagging in excitement. He liked being outside, but liked it even more with her it seemed.

Ellen found a nice, clear spot to begin her work. She made a ball, small enough to fit in her gloved hand and slowly started to roll it around to increase its size. Her troubles seemed far away as she worked, her mind drifting to happier times. Furie moved the ball too with his head and Ellen laughed.

“Trying to help me now?” She asked and gave him a pet, “such a good, sweet boy. I don't get why he called you Furie. You're anything but” Ellen stopped in her work to give the wolfhound pets along his chin and chest. All the while his tail kept wagging in delight.

“You are the sweetest thing I swear” she put her nose to his and giggled, feeling very much like a little girl again.

Ellen turned back to her task, and Furie joined her in pushing the ball around. Little did they know, the third hound, Durere, had spotted them outside and ran back in to tell his sister and master about it.

He let out several barks to Orlok, as if trying to articulate what he saw. The vampire glared.

“She's outside?” He got up and glanced out a nearby window.

Lo and behold, there was his Little Soul, rolling a large ball of snow around with Furie, before finally settling it somewhere. What in the world was she doing out there? Chaos still called for her, and she was still susceptible to its call. It wasn't safe to be out there alone. Orlok turned from the window, grabbing his enormous coat to go out and keep an eye on her…

“I think we can start on the body now, hm Furie?” Ellen asked, to which the wolfhound barked and wagged his tail.

She turned to start a new ball, this one to be slightly smaller than the other, when Ellen felt her blood run cold. An all too familiar shadow fell over her, and she knew it was the Beast. She sighed and stopped rolling the ball as Furie barked a greeting to his master. Ellen stood, facing him fully for the first time since they found themselves here to see him petting all three wolfhounds.

“You’ve named him poorly” she dared to say, “There’s not an ounce of rage in him”.

“Because you haven’t seen him angry…yet” Orlok replied, looking over at the large ball of snow, “What is it you’re doing, Micul Suflet?”.

Ellen stifled the urge to glare at the nickname. “I would appreciate it if you used my name…And what does it look like I’m doing? I’m making a…a snowman”.

He raised a brow. “A what?”

“A snowman. Have you never…” she stopped when he just looked contemplative, as if the concept of such a winter activity was foreign to him, “You’ve never made one before, have you?”

“Such things were considered a waste of time back in my youth. I spent the winters studying, learning and preparing for my role” He told her, almost avoiding her eyes.

“You never even got to do such things? Just…do childish things like this?”.

Ellen didn’t need an answer. His silence and avoidance were more than enough of an answer. Honestly it hurt something in her to know that. Maybe that was a part of the problem, why he turned out like this. Ellen took a single step toward him, a hand reaching for his.

“Come…join me. Help me with this” she requested, “Please?”

He pulled his long clawed hand away from her, shaking his head. “It’s a childish waste of-”.

“Stop. Right now. Time doesn’t mean anything anymore. It’s okay. We can do things like this. No one’s here to stop us or judge us or anything. Who cares if it’s childish? A time spent in merriment isn’t wasted time, even if time was still relevant to us” Ellen looked in his eyes, “A passionate hour is never a wasted one. Help me with this…Just once”.

Orlok narrowed his eyes at her and then the huge ball of snow. He sighed in annoyance and shook his head.

“Fine…Once, and that’s it” he conceded.

“Once is all I ask” she smiled coyly, like a cat who had just caught her prey. Her first genuine smile since they appeared here.

But even that was enough to make something in his chest feel awfully warm…

If you guys enjoyed this please feel free to like, reblog, and comment! If you wanna read more of my work, feel free to follow! Thank you all so much for reading and I'll see you in the next one ^^ <3

[in1-nutshell]

Hi! Can we get more Nova and Bumblebee please?

Maybe Bumblebee starts too realize slowly about Nova and his own feeling.

The pinning has finally finished!

Hope you enjoy!

Bumblebee and Nova confess?

SFW, Platonic, Romance, Cybertronian reader

G1

Raoul was sick and tired of hearing about the drama Tracks had.

Now normally he would be all in for hearing about bot stories from the flying car, but lately it had turned into an endless rant about how it was going to probably take the ending of the war to get Bumblebee and Nova to confess.

He had had enough!

Raoul: “Tracks, I love ya man, but can you PLEASE talk about anything else besides those two!” Tracks: “Well, no one is asking you to stay.” Raoul: “I’m just tryina hear abou da new stuff on base and here ya are talking about Bee and Bova! I’m sick of it!” Tracks just huffs at this. Raoul: “I swear. Ya know what? I bet I can get those two bozos together faster than you can drive.” Tracks: “Yeah right. No offense Raoul but those two are as dense as your skull.” Raoul: “Some offense taken. Then let’s make things interesting. If I can get them together on an actual date by the end of the month, you have ta drive and fly me for a week.” Tracks: “Raoul if you get them to go on a date, I’ll drive and fly you anywhere for a month.” Raoul: “Deal!”

Raoul has most of the basics down on both bots… but apparently completely forgot that she was a dinobot.

Bit of a surprise, but you know what, he is still doing this.

Cranks up all his confidence and swagger in his body up by 100 the moment he steps out of Track’s alt mode.

He heads straight to the bot, who was happily chatting with Bumblebee.

Raoul: “Yo what’s up?” Nova looks down in surprise. Nova: “Hello? Who you?” Raoul: “The name’s Raoul, gorgeous. I’mma a friend of Tracks.” She was pretty for a bot, but not his type. Nova: “Tracks friend?” Raoul: “Yes siree. I’ve heard a ton about ya Nova, especially about ya being a dinobot, and being strong. I’d sure like ta see a cutie like you in action.” Nova smiles at him. Nova: “Nova can show friend Raoul! Come! Come!” Raoul and Nova happily talk as they make their way out of the Ark. Every bot who witnessed this: “…” Prowl: “What was that?” Jazz: “I think I need Ratchet to check my optics…” Blaster turns to Tracks: “I didn’t know Raoul was into bots.” Tracks: “He isn’t!” Bumblebee was standing in the same place trying to process what had just happened. Bumblebee: “That was… weird?” Grimlock is slowly blinking and trying to wrap around his processor how this new human took away his scout from the love of her life. Grimlock: “Me Grimlock can’t handle love triangle today…”

No one has any idea what just happened.

And this is not the end of it.

Nova was out with her new friend almost every day.

She always seemed to be by the humans side from patrol routes to hang out spots.

There was a clear trust gained within those couple of days.

Raoul went from walking by her side, to sitting on top of her helm in dino mode.

A sign of extreme trust.

New bets are made in the betting pool concerning whether Bee or Raoul would end up going out with Nova.

Grimlock is just watching all of this from afar and banging his helm.

Ratchet and Wheeljack are trying to stop him from making a hole in the Ark with his helm slamming.

Bumblebee has no idea what to think about this.

He was so used to having Nova close by, it felt wrong to have her so far.

Sure, they had been separated before on missions and when on different patrol routes, but this was different.

She was giving Raoul HIS smiles!

Wait—what did he just say?

Bumblebee wakes up at 3 in the morning as the Brick of Love had hit him square in the face. He liked Nova. He liked his best friend. Bumblebee: “Oh Sweet Primus…” He gets up and walks a bit around the Ark. Jazz was dragging Prowl to the berth when they both spot Bumblebee. Jazz: “Bee? You okay man? It’s kinda late for a stroll.” Prowl: “Did something happen?” Bumblebee: “I just had a realization, that’s all.” Prowl: “What is it?” Bumblebee looks a bit nervous. Bumblebee: “Promise you won’t laugh?” Both mech nod and wait. Bumblebee: “I think I like Nova... like more than a friend.” Prowl and Jazz: “…” Prowl vents and face palms. Prowl: “Thank Primus I thought it was serious.” Bumblebee: “What?” Jazz brings him to a side hug. Jazz: “Congrats Bee. You’re the last to know.” Bumblebee: “Wait? It was that obvious?” Prowl: “Bumblebee, everyone knows Nova has feelings for you.” Bumblebee: “…Even Grimlock?” Jazz: “Especially Grimlock.”

After some encouraging words from the two Bee walked back to his berth.

He did try to go back to sleep but couldn’t.

After the realization, he needed to talk to Nova.

It could have been his last chance if Raoul hadn’t taken that too.

In hindsight, he knew it was probably not a good idea to sneak into the dinobots quarters.

Most of them slept in their dino modes in a circle or giant pile.

Why a pile? He didn’t know and it didn’t look comfy either.

Thank Primus it was circle today.

As carefully and quietly as he could he sneaked to Nova’s side and gently tapped her helm.

Her optics slowly opened as she let out a yawn.

He told her in a hushed voice to follow him.

Not yet understanding everything, she let the yellow bot grab her servo and lead her away from the circle.

The pair was now outside the Ark as the first signs of the sun started showing in the sky. Nova yawns again finally noticing how Bumblebee hadn’t let go of her servo. Her frame started heating up. Nova: “Why Bumblebee bring Nova outside? It very early.” Bumblebee: “Well… You see I…umm… Nova I…” Nova looked at the yellow mech now concerned. Nova: “Something wrong?” Bumblebee: “No its just… You know what I’m just going to say it!” Nova: “Bumblebee?” Bumblebee: “I like you! I like you a lot!” Nova froze in place. She tilted her helm at him with near pleading optics. Nova: “Is that true? You like like Nova?” Bumblebee nods before looking down embarrassed, missing the new brightness in her optics. Bumblebee: “I think I have for a while but never acted until Raoul came.” Nova: “Friend Raoul? Why? He is friend.” Bumblebee: “Really? I thought maybe you two had something—” CLANK! The smaller mech was suddenly trapped in a tight hug by the taller dinobot. She curled her tail around his pedes as her chassis made a low purring noise. Nova: “Raoul is friend. Nova like like Bumblebee only.” Bumblebee let out a laugh of relief as he hugged her back. They broke from the hug and opted to sit next to each other and wait for the sun to rise. Meanwhile in the Ark… Grimlock wakes up first and notices Nova’s spot empty. Grimlock: “Nova? Nova! Swoop! Snarl! Sludge! Slag! Where Nova at!?”

While having several panicky dinobot’s wake up everyone wasn’t the best start for most of the bots on base, it was worth it when they saw Bee and Nova holding servos.

Both with the same lovesick look on each other’s faces.

It finally happened!

There was much rejoice that the two had finally confessed and announced they weren’t going to be available in the evening.

Grimlock is now torn between celebrating or giving Bee the shovel talk that he has seen on TV.

… Probably celebrate first, then talk.

And a happy Raoul got his rides for an entire month.

[emblemxeno]

Meetcha half way: Miklan and Xander are both awful, terrible people.

You're allowed to think that way, I genuinely think whatever floats your boat is good, anon.

I don't share that opinion. Forgive me for the rant ahead.

Fates, IMO, made it clear what nuance it was going for. Aside from the little sisters and non-story important characters, there weren't purely good people. However, there were always clear hate sinks that the player was meant to despise.

War makes good people do bad things; evil people start or take advantage of war to benefit themselves; good people are taken out of the equation early on or don't get involved as often. Bam, that's it.

3H on the other hand, tries to justify every fucking action an antagonist takes. It tries to make everything an "I can see where you're coming from" situation, even when it falls on its face. For example, Lonato. No, actually, I don't feel bad for the guy trying to assassinate the archbishop in a plot of revenge for the execution of his son who was caught trying to assassinate that person already, especially when he's mowing town resistance in the process while knowing he could potentially harm or kill his other son in the process.

For fairness, Xander also does bad things and has no qualms harming a former sibling. But that was a fact established as soon as chapter 2, early in the story to intentionally give the audience a lasting impression. Yes he cares for his family, but his fear of his father outweighs that. The next logical step in analysis would be to discover why.

Lonato doesn't get that. He gets praised, shows that he's actually a douche, yet gets off the hook in various directions, excused by the Western Church (undeniably horrible group, but he himself shouldn't be exempt), the Central Church (should Ashe be on Crimson Flower because most of the cast isn't allowed to have a rigid backbone since they must be allowed to steamroll their own homes on Byleth's word), and even in Ashe's support with Catherine.

Miklan is no different, where they shift blame from the individual's actions to being about Crests, something that's contradictory to ingame information. He was disinherited well fucking after Sylvain was born, so it stands to reason that it's because he was an irresponsible, jealous, violent creep, and not because of Crests. But the game wants us to feel bad! He doesn't get a nuanced death because whining about Crests takes priority in the game's writing. Three Hopes cemented this by making him a fucking ally, highlighting that "oh he's actually a good leader even without a Crest!!1!" Yeah, I'm sure all the women he kidnapped, villagers he robbed, and families he tore apart will just be hunky dory with knowing that.

Xander meanwhile dies like a little bitch, taking himself out by letting Corrin stick a sword through him. That's thematically poignant, because he was the most common antagonist and a plot consistent hurdle that Corrin had been preparing to face ever since he made the choice to side with Hoshido. It's supposed to hit that it was really fucking easy, that Xander wasn't taken out through raw strength, but the weight of his own actions. That's exponentially more ingame acknowledgement of the wrong that Xander did, than any one character in 3H can manage to say about anyone they're fighting against besides maybe the Slithers.

[nevadancitizen]

-> ROT IN PUREST GOLD

synopsis: you've been skipping through universes ever since you touched the source of the hexgates. through everything, you've never stopped searching for your viktor -- now, you've found him, and you just want to go home.

word count: 2.7k

ships: viktor/reader

tags: angst with a happy ending, fluff and angst, pre-established relationship

notes: inspired by purest gold by miracle of sound. and this is my first shot at writing viktor.. lmk if i got anything wrong ^_^

It’s been years since you saw Viktor. Many years – artificial years. Years spent close, away, at a distance but still observing. But they were never your Viktor. 

Viktor with the accented voice and the long face. Viktor with the work ethic of a hive of worker honeybees, tireless and continuous. Viktor with the eyes of pure gold – never pyrite or brass with a yellow twinge. He’s always been made of the purest gold.

None of them ever could’ve replaced him. With all these alternate universes you were hopping between, you met plenty of Viktors. Some came close, but none replaced him. It wasn’t their faults; they couldn’t compete with a memory. 

You were a variable, too, so you couldn’t blame them completely. You went by different names, had different stories. Anything to make this depressing, grueling trudge through many lives more tolerable. 

Some things made things less annoying, like cars. (Well, sometimes. Sometimes they were a nuisance.) Cars are one of the things you think your Viktor would’ve liked to study. To take apart, to put back together, to modify and make better. You could see him becoming a real torque dork while listening to Speedfreaks FM. 

Mostly because that’s what he insists on listening to when you drive him to his doctor’s appointments – both of which you’re doing right now. Well, this universe’s version of him insists on Speedfreaks FM, and insists on you not calling him a ‘torque dork.’ Differentiating the Viktors from each other gets really complicated really fast, but giving them numbers feels dehumanizing. (If you did, this Viktor would be V-24. You’ve been keeping track.)

You turn on your blinker and wait for an opening to drive into the parking lot. Beneath the chatter of the radio hosts, you can hear Viktor tap his slender fingers against his forearm crutch in the passenger seat. Another difference you’ve noticed – both his outward fidgeting and his different mobility aids. 

When your turn comes, you turn your car into the parking lot. You slowly let the car drift, your foot hovering above the brake in case someone needs to cross. 

You turn down the radio a few clicks. “You think you’ll need your wheelchair?”

Viktor is silent. You take your eyes off the road for a split second and glance at him. He’s looking out the side window, at the plaza’s tall buildings and a sign that says Pueblito Plaza. 

“Viktor?” You say. “You hearing me?”

You pull into a parking spot and put the car in park. Worry eats through you – you don’t know what’s happening. Why is he acting like this?

He’s turned in his seat, looking through the back window at the buildings. There’s amazement on his face and for a second – a split second – he’s there. He’s your Viktor. 

But he’s not. He’s not. 

Those eyes are not gold. They are topaz and they are citrine. They are the yellow-orange that accompanies the sunrise. Beautiful, yes, but not yours.

“Where… are we?” He asks, his voice soft and wonderful.

“We’re going to your doctor appointment,” you say. “With… what’s her name? The pulmonologist. And then you have a CT chest scan.”

“No – the nation,” Viktor says. “What nation are we in? I have never seen technology like this.”

He runs a hand over the console of the car, then over the glovebox. He opens it, then looks inside. Nothing but napkins from fast food places and a laminated copy of your car insurance. 

“What’re you looking for?” You ask. You turn the key, and the car shuts off. 

“The power source,” Viktor says, looking at the key in your hand. “May I?”

“Viktor, you’re not cleared to drive,” you say, your voice growing sterner and firmer. “The doctors said your legs are… too weak or something – I don’t know.”

You clutch the key (and the carabiner it’s attached to) tighter in your hand. The charms hanging from it jingle and clink together. A small cog and a toy that looks like a spark plug make a metallic click as they collide.

“What is that?” Viktor reaches out, but just barely stops himself from touching the spark plug toy. You pause for a second, then give him the entire carabiner. 

Viktor holds the spark plug toy up to his face, inspecting it closely. He lets the rest of the charms on the carabiner dangle freely. You watch him – watch his eyes. A spark of gold. A fleck of cooler color in a pool of a warmer, yellowish orange. 

He sets the pad of his thumb on the hex of the toy (the hex here is a piece of metal on a spark plug fitted for a wrench – not the hex you were used to, so long ago). He wiggles it back and forth, then spins it. The hex spins with a barely-audible metallic rasp, like a fidget ring.

“It’s very intricate for a toy,” Viktor says. “Who made this?”

“Wh… you did. You gave that to me,” you say softly. “Why don’t you remember that?”

A quiet question nags the back of your mind – is Viktor getting worse?

You silently beg that you’re right. In a twisted, selfish way, you want him to get worse. You’ve taken care of Viktor before. Watched him die in multiple dimensions. In some of them, he even died in your arms, his golden eyes fading and his hand falling from your cheek.

You know what it’s like to watch him get worse. You’ve done it before, seen it before. You know what to do, how to grieve. You don’t know what you’d do if this is… Viktor. Viktor for real. Your Viktor.

“Are you trying to stifle my curiosity?” Viktor asks, a teasing smile on his face, his eyes still on the toy. 

“You gave it to me… I don’t know, six, seven years ago?” You say. You turn so that your shoulder is leaning against the car seat, facing him. “A spark plug. It’s important to the engine. I don’t remember how. And now… I’m failing your test.”

Viktor puts the carabiner down on the console. He laughs, and he’s looking at you like… you don’t know how he’s looking at you. But it’s something familiar. Something long-lost that you’ve been yearning for. 

“How could I test you on something I barely know anything about?” He asks. His smile falters a little.

“Don’t bullshit me,” you say, smiling. (His laughter always manages to make you smile.) “You know everything there is to know about cars, trucks, motorcycles…”

Viktor’s smile turns forced and confused. His eyebrows furrow a little. “I… have no idea what you’re talking about…”

And then he says it. He says your name. Your real name, your true name – the name V-1 called you. The name the real Viktor called you. 

It goes through you like a cold shock. A baptism in electrified ice water. You want to put your hand to his throat and ask, “What the fuck? What the hell did you just call me? Who’re you talking about?” 

You want to… but you can’t. You’re frozen until Viktor places a hand on yours.

You jerk it away, cradling both hands to your chest and scrunch back against the car door. “Don’t touch me.”

And he says your name again. Again, in that tone that invites sympathy, but mostly pity. He’s pitying you. You’ve gone through this too many times, with too many therapists.

“You – Viktor,” you say, his name coming out in a gasp. There’s a lump in your throat and you feel almost nauseous. 

“You’re not… you’re not the real one,” you grind out. “You’re not my Viktor, so stop acting like it. In th– in this universe, you’re just a friend, and that’s it.”

Viktor is silent, his mouth agape. “My love –”

“Don’t! Please,” you say. The words escape you before you can do anything. “Please, just don’t. Who – who told you?”

“Who told me what?” Viktor asks. His voice is still soft and sympathetic and sickly sweet.

“That you’re… you were…” You slump against the car door. Your elbow knocks against the steering wheel.

You look at him again. Your eyes dart between both of his, looking, observing. They’re not gold anymore. Well, they never really were, but now they’re… they’re opaline – pearlescent. A whole kaleidoscope in a drop. This is something different, but, still… it’s almost like you can sense him. This is the true Viktor – your Viktor. 

“I was there, Runeterra, the core of the hexgates, and then… I wasn’t. I’ve lived twenty-three lives before this. My first memory of… here… is of my fifteenth birthday party. I had to grow up all over again. Make new friends, go to a child’s school. I didn’t have anyone. And you –” Your voice catches in your throat, on both anger and sorrow. “You left me here! You left me to do this all alone!”

“I would never.” Viktor’s cold hands meet yours. He cradles them both. “I would never leave you, my love. I’m so, so sorry.”

“But you did!” You grip his hands as tight as you can, trying to savor the feeling. Tears well at the corners of your eyes. “You left me with this… this rot. These gilded Viktors that look like you, act like you. And it hurt. Everything hurts.”

“I know,” Viktor says softly. “You’re hurting me, too.”

You blink, then realise what you’re doing and loosen your grip on his hands. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He breathes out a soft laugh, then brushes his thumbs over your knuckles. “It must’ve been lonely, all by yourself.”

“You have no idea,” you say, your voice breaking a little. You blink hard, and a tear runs down your face. “We went to an arcade, and I spent all my quarters on you. We went to a museum, and I bought you a small paperweight of a statue that was on display there. We went to this weird, exotic place – Great Britain, I think it was called – and we shared tea and scones. And, no matter what I did, it… it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t right. It… he wasn’t you.”

“I’m here now.” Viktor gives your hands a gentle squeeze – much softer than what you gave him. “How long has it been?”

“I don’t… I don’t know,” you say tearfully. “Time moves differently here. Maybe… sixty years? I’m not sure.”

“Sixty?” Viktor balks. “Oh, my love…”

His hands slowly, carefully, move away from yours. Cold fingers meet your jaw, and your eyes flutter shut on instinct, head tilting down into the touch. Viktor cradles your face, both his thumbs brushing back-and-forth over your cheeks. 

 “I dreamt of you,” you say softly. “Every night. And I thought of you every day. Just… thinking of you, every moment I could spare.”

“Surely that’s an exaggeration,” Viktor says. 

You shake your head and lean further into his touch. “I’ve waited so long… so long. And now you’re here, and I – I don’t know what to do.”

He moves his hands, the tips of his fingers splayed across the sides of your neck and his thumbs gently pressing into your temples. “What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know,” you sigh. “This is nice, though. Just… you being here is nice.”

You lean forward, placing your hands over his to ensure they stay in place. “It felt like eternity, waiting for you. Just waiting, and longing. None of them could replace you.”

You open your eyes, just the slightest bit, and take Viktor in. Good god, he’s Viktor. He’s your Viktor. No longer the purest gold, but something new. Something better. Something life-bringing and something with infinite mercy.

“That is flattering, coming from you,” Viktor says. “You could have anyone you want – anyone across twenty-four universes. And you chose me, in every single one? That is the highest praise I could receive.”

You breathe out a laugh as your eyes shut again. “Shut up.”

“Eh… if you continue to act like this, I don’t think I will,” he teases. In a softer, warmer tone, he adds, “Your face is getting warm, too. I can feel it.”

You groan and hide your face in Viktor’s hands further. Even though you act like you hate it, you’ve missed this – you’ve missed this immensely. His teasing, his compliments that make you feel like you hung the sun, the moon, and all the stars by yourself. 

“Maybe you’re just getting warmer in general,” you say softly. “Maybe you’re getting better.”

“I have gotten better,” Viktor says, his voice light. “In our universe… I… I have touched the Arcane. I have been healed, and I am a healer. A herald into a new, better world – not only for the Undercity, but for the whole of Piltover.”

You shift his hands so that they’re resting on your cheeks and open your eyes, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “That sounds nice. I’m… sorry you had to do all that without me.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Viktor asks. “It’s not your fault.”

“I don’t know. I just…” You sigh. “I blamed it all on you, and I was angry. Real angry. But it wasn’t your fault – it wasn’t anyone’s. I was angry and I took it all out on the memory of you.”

“Do you really think I care?” His voice is soft as he swipes a thumb over your cheek. 

“No,” you admit after a moment. “But, still…”

“You are occupying your mind with the past and what-ifs,” Viktor says. He draws a hand over your scalp, his fingernails lightly digging into the skin there. “Focus on the here, the now.”

You shudder and melt into his hands. Your eyes, though still closed, sting with a fresh wave of tears. 

“I missed you,” you choke out. 

“You’ve said that already,” Viktor says. 

“I can’t say it enough,” you say, your voice sticky and wet. “I was your champion in the arena. I was your personal knight. I was the chieftain of your armies. I was your tool, your instrument. And you were my everything.”

“You are my everything,” he says. His tone is so sincere and heartfelt that it makes your throat seize up. “Why would you ever doubt that?”

“I didn’t,” you say. “It–it’s just that, all these memories… I was so many people, and so were you. And some things blur together, and it gets hard to differentiate everything, and…”

You groan and lean into Viktor’s touch. You glance up into his eyes, still opaline. “Everything got so complicated so fast. I just wanted you – the real you.”

“It’s okay, my love.” His hands move to hold your jaw, to draw you closer. “You don’t have to explain yourself.”

“But I feel like I have to,” you say. “I just… I just want you back. I wanna go back to the Viktor I know. I wanna go home.”

“We can go home,” Viktor says. “I can take you home.”

“Then take me home,” you say, almost too quickly. “Viktor, please.”

“You don’t have to beg,” he says. There is no teasing or hidden malice in his voice. He just wants you home, too. 

Viktor’s hands slide to the back of your head, his palms almost cradling your skull. He presses his fingers down and tilts your head forward, towards his. Your eyes flutter shut as your forehead touches his. 

It’s white. It’s the bright, cleansing light of some sort of heaven. Heaven? Haven? You’re not too sure. You’re not sure you can bring yourself to care, either. Not when you’re here – not when your Viktor is in reach. Not when you can touch him, hold him, talk to the one you love. The one you’ve been pining for, fighting for, losing and winning for. From somewhere between sixty years and eternity, you’ve been wanting him. And now he’s here. Your Viktor is here. 

It’s unbelievable. Your Viktor is here. 

The memories of your past lives, the former realities you’ve lived, meld and blur into distinct feelings. Visual memories blend into base emotions. A warrior’s pride. A traveler’s wanderlust. A teenager’s excitement. A knight’s confidence and courage. A chieftain’s insecurity cloaked as hostility. 

They melt away into contentment. A gentle wave lapping at a quiet shore. Acceptance. 

You are healed. 

You are home. 

[srovtl]

(Tea Etiquette Lecture) Figaro SR Card Story Translation

The answer is two-sided? - Episode 1

Figaro: Hey, Bradley. Do you want more tea? I'll pour you some.

Bradley: What? I want nothing from you.

Figaro: Don't worry, I didn't put anything weird in it. Here you go.

Bradley: Ah, hey… aaand, he poured without listening.

Figaro: Okay. Now that we've set the stage for a chat… Bradley.

Figaro: The game we all just played earlier. "Tell each other what we like about each other" game. Why don't we do it with just the two of us this time?

Bradley: Can't.

Figaro: Why not?

Bradley: Because there's not even a single thing I like about you. I can list tons of stuff I hate about you though.

Figaro: Then let's go with that. "Tell each other what we don't like about each other" game.

Bradley: Why, exactly...

Bradley: Anyway, there's no way you, with your high pride, could handle this game.

Figaro: Don't worry, I'm the kind doctor from the south. And this game does have its merits.

Figaro: A lot has happened between you and me... but as long as we are both sage's wizards, we need to get somewhat along or else Master Sage will be in trouble, right?

Figaro: So if I ask you what you hate and fix it if necessary, maybe we can build a more friendly relationship.

Bradley: Hah, you're still as articulate as ever. Bet it's just a way to kill time anyway.

Bradley: ...You were the one who brought it up, you better not snap at me no matter what I say.

Figaro: Of course. Well then, let's get started. You go first.

The answer is two-sided? - Episode 2

Bradley: …….

Bradley: I hate the way you pretend to be a good guy. Your nature is arrogant and cold-hearted, but you act all silly and call yourself the doctor from the south.

Bradley: It's the same now. It's creepy that you'd go out of your way to pour me tea.

Figaro: Creepy? How mean.

Figaro: The current me is the kind Doctor Figaro. I can't just leave someone be alone at a party.

Bradley: Hah, I say this, you say that. You should fix that cunning part of you too.

Bradley: Learn from the simplicity of the people in the north and Oz.

Figaro: ...Haha, I see.

Figaro: Now I understand how you see me. Thanks for letting me know.

Figaro: Well, I think I'll go back to the others.

Bradley: Hey, what about your turn? Since when are you the type to just accept getting told off.

Figaro: I'm fine. Even if I told you, you wouldn't change anything...

Figaro: And now I know what you like about me.

Bradley: Ha?

Figaro: You know, they say that hate is the opposite of love. In other words, you like me when I act like a northerner, don't you?

Figaro: Plus, you think of me as special among the wizards you know because I am the only one who can match you in conversation skills. 

Bradley: You...

Bradley: Gotta fix that part more than anything. 

Figaro: Hmm, I don't think that's possible.

Figaro: When I see this face on you, I don't want to fix it anymore.

Tell me what you like about me - Card Episode

Figaro: Master sage, the game we played at the tea party the other day was fun, wasn't it?

Figaro: You know, the one where we tell each other what we like about each other.

Akira: You mean the one Arthur suggested! I got embarrassed a little, but it was fun.

Figaro: I wish I could have asked you what you like about me, Master sage.

Akira: Huh, what I like about Figaro?

Akira: Hmm...

Figaro: Oh, you have to squeeze one out?

Akira: Ah, sorry! No, not at all.

Akira: Actually, there's a lot I like about you, so I'm not sure where to start...

Figaro: I see. I want to hear everything then. I'll wait as long as you want, so just tell me about it all.

Akira: Very well. Umm... I like how you're always calm and dependable...

Akira: Also, when I'm feeling anxious, you notice right away and gently listen to me.

Akira: Also, you always keep a close attention to your surroundings, and give me advice on things I haven't noticed, and also...

Figaro: ……

Akira: Hm, is something wrong?

Figaro: Sorry, it's nothing. I just never thought you'd praise me this much.

Figaro: Thank you. For me, I like how you can praise others so honestly, Master Sage.

Homescreen voiceline

I was wondering if there was ever a person who can bring this group of a little too colorful personalities together…. Master Sage, seriously who are you? Haha, just kidding. Thanks as always.

[zahri-melitor]

If we're being mean about it, I think it's entirely in-character for Tumblr to call any story falling outside the Wayne Family Adventures paradigm "out of character". I mean, did that phrase ever really mean anything more than "I didn't like this characterization?"

Oh this is a spicy take, and one I’d like to dig into.

I don’t think that’s entirely true (see how much time tumblr spends yelling about their hatred of Tom Taylor, when Tom Taylor’s characterisation beats and storytelling are tonally similar to Wayne Family Adventures, to the point I’ve actively recommended his Nightwing run as an entry point for WFA fans who want to read main universe comics), but yes I agree that as far as superhero comics go, ‘out of character’ is most frequently used as a cudgel for ‘I didn’t like this storyline/characterisation’ or quite often ‘my favourite was in the wrong here/wasn’t the viewpoint character’.

My personal conception of characterisation in comics (and for any long running universe handled by multiple writers over decades, actually), is that every character has a range of what is ‘them’, and different writers slide back and forth along the scale of that range. Bruce Wayne written by Paul Dini (as a caring, empathetic hero) and Bruce Wayne written by Frank Miller (as a gritty angry hero raging at the world) are both Bruce Wayne, they’re just very different conceptions of him in the range.

Not everything ends up getting captured by that range; there are occasions when you get stories that are genuinely out of character, where there’s no continuity between that story and other appearances of the character, where every other writer and the fandom at large generally agree to drop and ignore that story. However, those occasions are less common than most people think, and what’s far more common is a later writer massages the story and applies a soft-retcon to ‘fix’ the situation.

That Danny Devito Penguin and Catwoman story where they solve COVID by vaccinating the world then disappear into the sunset as a couple? Ignored by everyone. Hal Jordan as Parallax? Subject to multiple retcons in terms of the reasoning for how and why things happened.

A bunch of the biggest ‘that was out of character’ arguments are over things where someone has decided THEY don’t want to treat some story as having happened (usually because it makes their beloved character look bad), and then a later story goes “okay, but how about we reference that story, look at it from a different perspective, and how that changes things?”. The comics fandom as a whole is large, widely distributed across platforms and communities, and very much does not think in one mind. Generally for every story you hate, there are others out there in the fandom who really enjoy it. Even truisms in certain communities over what is ‘bad’ don’t necessarily hold outside those communities. (Rob Liefeld still gets work as a comics artist, and while some of that is related to who he’s friends with, people still buy his comics!)

And finally, there’s what I like to think about as the comics perspectives issue. One of the unusual characteristics of superhero comics is that they’re wide shared universes…where we get to see stories from a LOT of different characters’ perspectives. Characters tend to appear in stories differently when they’re the main character of that title, to when they’re a side character or an opponent of the main character. That’s because the viewpoint character colours how that character is perceived. Bruce can be a noble hero in Batman, the father figure his kids are struggling against in their titles, a self-righteous blowhard in an antihero book like Poison Ivy, the irritating know-it-all colleague in Green Arrow, and the reliable best friend in Superman/Batman. They’re all still Bruce Wayne; different characters just have different relationships with and perceptions of him.

And a lot of complaints about ‘so and so is out of character’ is because in their own title that character has had some self discovery and characterisation to better themselves…and then in a book where they’ve got a walk on part, they don’t appear to have changed. And that’s a ‘this book is not about your blorbo’ problem more than a ‘your blorbo is out of character’ problem. Your blorbo might be being used as the heel or the obstacle in the title. The viewpoint character may not have seen this internal change as it hasn’t manifested externally. Maybe, change is hard and characters can and do backslide. Or maybe…this title isn’t about blorbo and the writer is just using the default ‘everyone knows’ characterisation for them because they’re not actually that important to the story outside of the writer needing someone who is likely to do X.

It's a sliding scale! This is how Jeremy Adams Flash and Si Spurrier Flash are both two great, fun Flash books…but tonally in completely different universes.

[sunarots]

taste ━━━ suna rintarou & miya osamu

11. people change ♡

"Hey, wake up."

Your eyes flutter open as someone lightly nudges you awake, a hand rest on your knee. You lift your head from Osamu's shoulder, rubbing the sleep from your eyes to wake yourself up. "Sorry, was I asleep for long? You should've woken me up." You wait for Osamu to get out of his seat before shuffling from the window seat, taking your rucksack from him as he grabs his own.

"Wake you? I'm not that dumb. I've heard the stories," he scoffs, leading you off the bus. Though he's not looking, he knows the exact look on your face.

You follow him with a scowl. "I'm not that bad..."

"You are," Kuroo agrees, hauling your suitcase and his towards you. "You have the itinerary handy?"

You nod your head and rummage in your bag, pulling out the crumpled sheet of paper. You lead Kuroo to the front of the group, comparing the time on your phone to the timeline on the sheet. "Damn, we lost some time. I said to everyone to use the toilet before we left, but did they listen?"

"They never listen to you," Kuroo teases, lightly nudging your arm.

Rolling your eyes and dismissing his comment, you wait for everyone to gather around you and Kuroo before proving him wrong. "Okay, everyone! We're late to the games but we're in time for dinner. You all have your room assignments, drop off your bags and get settled. We'll meet in the common area in ten minutes with Sendai's team and make our way there together. Be on your best behaviour, just because coach is sick doesn't mean we can slack off and misbehave. Any questions?" You spot Bokuto's hand shoot up, already knowing what he'd ask - again. "No, Bokuto, you cannot share with Akaashi. We've been over this. Now, go get settled. If you need me, I'll be in room seven with Sendai's manager. I'll see you all soon."

You hang back, waiting for Osamu to send his brother off into the unknown so he can walk you inside. Atsumu goes bounding off ahead, almost tripping up a step on the way. You bite back a laugh and turn to Osamu, now by your side. "Maybe he'll get lost."

He switches his case from one hand to the other to drape it around your neck. "One can dream. So, who are you rooming with?"

"Sendai's manager. We've met a couple times, all the managers have a group chat...well, the girl ones. Kuroo keeps up with the guys," you explain, smiling at the student holding the door for you both. You lead him past the common room and towards the dorm.

"Why does Kuroo keep up with the men?"

"Because they're just so... Weird. They act crazy." You glance over your shoulder to make sure no one's following. "So, what's the plan? With me and you, I mean. We need to try make it really convincing for everyone. Well, I'll probably tell Kiyoko because we're always gossiping, but everyone else needs convincing."

"Well, I think if I kiss you on the cheek at some point when people are looking it could give Iwaizumi a stroke," he comments, a smile tugging at his lips at the thought. "I know he's not the target, but it would be funny."

"That would be funny." You knock a couple times on the door to the dorm room, turning to face him. "We can do that tomorrow morning. That would wake everyone up."

"Or kill someone..." He pauses in consideration and turns to you as the door opens. "Worth it."

"Who are you killing? I'd rather not harbour a fugitive." Kiyoko keeps one hand on the door as she eyes you suspiciously. "Unless it's Rubi. In that case, I can be your alibi."

"See? This is why Kuroo deals with the men and I befriend the women. We stick together," you tell Osamu before properly greeting Kiyoko. "Thanks for letting me room with you again!"

Kiyoko waves a hand and opens the door for you to step inside. "It's no problem. I like not having to share my dorm, but it's nice to have a guest once in a while."

"I'll see you in the common room with everyone else, okay? If Atsumu's late, kill him for me." You flash Osamu a smile before closing the door to the dorm, leaning back against the door.

Kiyoko has her arms crossed over her chest, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Is that pretty boy? He's cute."

"Hey, back off! You have one already." You lightly swat at her arm, pulling your case over to the empty bed and setting it on top. "How is he?"

Kiyoko sits on her bed, eyes scanning over the pictures on the wall. "He's good. He's enjoying his course and likes being able to have more control in the team. I think he was excited to see Iwaizumi-san and exchange tips." As she speaks, she watches you pull out a bag of toiletries from the case. "But enough about Ryu. How is Osamu?"

Instantly, you press your lips into a tight line. "Well... We're pretending. No one knows but you. Also, Ugly and Osamu has a fight and Osamu called him Ugly."

Kiyoko's jaw drops open as you speak, scouring her mental dictionary for an appropriate reaction. "Oh my- You're faking? Is that a good idea?"

You shrug your shoulders after a moment of thought, settling at the edge of the bed. "I mean, maybe?"

"Is this because he doesn't like you back?"

You gasp more dramatically than intended, hand on your chest. "I'll have you know that he liked me when I first started dating Ugly."

"But does he like you now? People change, y/n."

# fun fact !

kiyoko tries to stop y/n from getting too lost in her perfect world after hearing about suna

masterlist. previous | next

summary. when your ex starts dating your least favourite person on campus, your ex-best friend from high school, you can’t help but feel a little betrayed. you quickly realise a way to get back at him: his best friend.

taglist (open!). @v3nusplanetofluv @mdmraz @thoughtswithbbg @fireinyoureye @wakashudou @jisookdays @tespho @frootloopscos @gigiiiiislife @walllflowerrrsss @tangerinelovr @datonegaybestfriend @sturnprincess @jpegarchives @justanotherweeb666 @1yeah1 @rrosiitas @yuu-via @zazathezaer @softpia @animenaces-world @loveelylani @punkhazardlaw @to-dino @nanamis-right-tiddie @aboutkiyoomi @arusio @aloore @dailyakira @alexithemiyatic

[fandoms--fluff]

Hiii I hope you’re well. I love love LOVE your stories and was wondering if you could do one of Elijah mikaelson? In this context the reader is a werewolf and was his wife since the 1800s but has been on the run from him for ages (for any reason I’ll leave that up to u) Elijah finally hunts her down in mystic falls taking her back to their mansion. You can do whatever you like with this suggestion really. Also no smut but maybe lots of tension? Like pinning her against the wall during an argument or smth.

His

Immortal female werewolf reader x Elijah Mikaelson

Warnings: Swearing, fighting, mentions of death?

A/n: I had fun writing this <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I knew it was too good to be true, you think to yourself as you quickly pack a duffle bag of clothing, money, and other essentials around your apartment. Which happens to be located right in the middle of 'downtown' Mystic Falls.

You rush around the space that has brought you comfort over the past couple years. But of course everything has to end, the friendships you made here, the comfort, and having a life. Now you have to start all over again. Hopefully this time where he can't find you.

You've heard whispers about the originals and Klaus around the small town, mostly within the group of the Salvatore brothers and the others. You have made acquaintance with them after the killings started happening around a year after you had moved here. It was okay, for now, you thought, Klaus hasn't actually shown his face yet.

Until Elijah kidnapped Elena, and gave her a less than friendly warning, not to mess with the wrong people. No one knows what that means, and you're glad they haven't traced it back to you. They don't know your history beside being an immortal werewolf and basics like that. And you plan to keep it that way.

Which is why you need to leave. Now. Before he gets to you.

And that 'he', is no other than Elijah Mikaelson. The husband you once loved and have been running from for the past two centuries.

You both had once loved each other very dearly. Until it came to the night that ruined everything and made you go on the run, not standing to be near him. And you've been running ever since. You're quite surprised you've made it this long without being caught by him. Or even one of his siblings, Klaus especially.

Your thoughts are all jumbling together as you rush around your apartment. A place that brought you security and comfort, now being torn away from your grasp. Because if you stayed, then you can't even think about the pain it would leave you in by taking that action. As you try to leave as fast as you can, you can't help but think about the past. The reason why you're so frantic and have the urgency to get out of the small town in Virginia.

It had all began when you were younger, still innocent, enough that is, to the cruel dark side of the world. Of course, you already knew about your werewolf side and it had been activated when you were very young on your seventh birthday. You could never figure out why you hadn't needed to kill anyone to activate it. But it was clear you were special from a young age.

You were eighteen, mastered full control of the wolf inside you and hadn't brought pain to any one beside a few woodland creatures. You tried your best in the world, keeping your secret while also keeping up with societies rules as a young woman, as the people of your village would murmur around about you. About how you had not found yourself a suitor. A husband. But how could you? with a secret like yours? So, you kept to yourself.

That was until a new family arrived in your village. A very wealthy and mysterious family of apparent four siblings. Word spread around the small village of their names, Klaus, Rebekah, Kol, and finally, Elijah Mikaelson. Though no one knew where they came from or why they had came to this specific place. Except it was clear they had major influence.

You didn't trust them, it felt weird how they just appeared out of no where over night, something seemed off about them. You stayed clear from the new residents of the village, minding to the apothecary shop your parents owned in the corner of town.

It didn't last long though until one of the Mikaelson's came into the shop. At first you hadn't acknowledged them, hoping they would pick something up, buy it, and leave. Or just leave entirely, not even wanting them to buy anything. But luck wasn't on your side.

The strange man comes up to the counter where you're standing. "I don't believe we've met, I'm Elijah" The man, Elijah, says to you. Smiling weakly at him, just wanting him to leave, you have a bad feeling, "I'm Y/n."

He continued the conversation and left after a while. And you we're surprised to have a wish of hope that he would've stayed longer. Maybe you we're wrong about the new family. You hadn't known what you'd just gotten yourself into for the next centuries.

And so, the handsome man has come to the shop everyday since and you couldn't be anymore exhilarated. It's been so long since you've felt happiness like this.

It had been good, or so you thought. The relationship you guys had was romantic and lovely, and anything you could ever wish for. It soon turned to marriage, and you loved him and he loved you. That was until the night everything went wrong. The night you ran and have been ever since. From your one true love.

You didn't mean to eavesdrop, really. But you had been on the way to the kitchen to grab a glass of water when you heard voices in your husband's study. It was him and Klaus, talking of the plan going just right with the werewolf.

Elijah had 'discovered' you were a werewolf about the same time you suspected of him being non human as well. Just you weren't expecting him to be a vampire. And it was quite strange how he wasn't surprised of you being a wolf. Which should have been your first clue. But you overlooked it, filled with love for the man. Which was a painstaking mistake. Especially when discovered after many tests that you were no longer aging after your twentieth birthday.

Your eyes widen as they mention a werewolf. Are they talking about me? You wonder, as you continue listening.

"Y/n suspects nothing of it, right?" Klaus asks his brother. "Nothing, I love her, but she can't know what we have planned, not yet" Elijah answers him from across the room.

Tears well up in your eyes as they continue talking. "There's a chance my curse will be broken by using her?" Klaus asks. "Yes, by the next full moon in two days, there is a best chance with her willing or unwillingness of the ritual, that it will be undone. You will be a full hybrid, Niklaus" Elijah grins to his younger brother, taking a sip of his drink.

You quickly cover your mouth and walk away as quickly but quietly as you can while tears run down your face. You thought Elijah loved you, just as you do him. But of course it's not. He just pretended to get close to me, you think as you get to your guys' room. You grab your cloak and nothing else before sneaking out of the massive house.

There's no point confronting your husband, it was clear there was no love to be shared between the two of you. Instead, a need to get far away from here as you can before you get caught. You should have never fallen for the original, should have never spoken to him like your gut told you to.

You stealthily make your way to the stables. No one has caught you yet, making it easy to get on the horse and start the galloping travel through the woods.

It's not until you're deep into the forest when you hear voices and men shouting. When you hear Elijah shouting for you, anger enriched in his voice. But you never look back, only making the horse go faster until you're so far that they can't keep track of you.

Until now. Elijah is here, or at least close to here. You know Elena had met with him, unwillingly. And you can't risk anything else.

You finish zipping up the bag and leave the apartment behind, going outside where your car awaits. Unlocking it, you throw the duffle in the trunk before speeding into the driver's seat.

Driving above all speed limits, you get to the border of the town before a man, a man that you could recognize anywhere appears in the middle of the road.

Fear sparks in your eyes, and instead of stopping like any sane person would do, you swerve the car and press on the gas, passing him.

It doesn't turn out so well, when you hear a thunk on the top of your car and then the man crashing his fist through the windshield, making you slam on the breaks. The breaks emit a loud and jarring squeaking sound as your breathing picks up at the sight of your husband.

Before you know it, you're manhandled out of the car and whisked away to a mansion. You fight your way out of his grip, "Let me go!" You exclaim.

He lets you out of his hold, raising his arms up. "It's been a while, my Y/n" He says, and you swear you could hear a smidge of longing in his voice. "What? Since you used me and pretending to live me just to break your brother's curse?!" Your voice booms with emotion.

After everything, a small part of you still loves the vampire in front of you. A part before you found out his plans, when he was still mysterious to you. But you can't let that cloud your vision, speech and thoughts right now.

"It wasn't like that" Elijah takes a step forward, making you take a step back, not wanting to be close to him. You scoff, "I'm not so naive now, Elijah. Of course it was like that. You knew I was a werewolf before you pretended to find out and tell me you were a vampire, a god damn a original at that" You lash out, anger and resentment coming out.

"Just hear me out my darling-" You interrupt him, "No, you can't just hunt me down for 200 years and then once finally catching me, make me listen to your lies and justification. You we're going to what? kill me? Why not just do it instead of pretending to love me and then fucking marry me."

Elijah's face falters before grabbing your arm again. He slams you up against the wall, pinning you against it. His grip on you is hard and painful.

Your eyes flash into the amber colour out of anger. You try to struggle out of his grasp, but have no luck.

"No need for those eyes, darling. For your knowledge, I did love you and marry you because of that love. To this day I still love you. Even after the running away stunt you pulled." Elijah explains to you with a hard voice.

"Good for you, but I promise you, those feelings are definitely not reciprocated" You ground out, still struggling against his hold. Elijah just leans in closer to you, you can feel his breath on your skin. "I could never love someone like you after what you planned for me" you spit in his face.

Elijah falters for a moment, giving you just enough time to switch it around and have him pinned against the wall in his place. You use your werewolf strength to hold him down. "Now, I think it's best for both of us to just move on with our lives. I mean it" You say in a loud and clear voice, no pain whatsoever leaking out. All you want to do is leave and never see this man who has caused you so much pain.

"You don't mean that" Elijah's mouth twitches up into a loose grin. "I assure you, I do" You claw your nails into his skin, making his gasp out.

With an ounce of strength, Elijah gets free from your hold and wraps his hands around your neck. They're not tight enough to block your air supply, just to get you to not move.

"We both know your feelings aren't gone for me. You love me. You just can't admit it. I have been after you for so long, you're my wife whom I love."

You scoff, "A wife who you still want to do the ritual. let me think about it" you pause to 'think'. "NO!" You exclaim in his face. Elijah's vampire face comes on display for a moment before he calms himself. "You don't need to be in the ritual. there's another way now. A new one, my darling. We can finally be together. No more running or hiding, or secrets. I give you my word" He come's closer to you again.

You pause, not knowing what his plan is. There's no way he really means those things. His 'word' may have worked two centuries ago on you, but not now. "And how am I supposed to take you seriously? Or believe a single word you just said? Just because I'm technically your wife still, doesn't mean I have to act like it." You finally tell him.

"Then I truly am sorry, darling" Elijah takes another step closer, you being a couple inches apart now. "For what?-" You get cut off.

Elijah grabs hold of you and twists you around. He quickly wraps his arms around your neck, placing a hand on your jaw and twists your neck. Breaking it.

He's lost you for this long, he's not going to take any more chances. He'll make you remember your feelings for him, whatever it takes, You're his. Even if it means keeping you as a prisoner.

[maleyanderecafe]

My Sister Picked Up The Male Lead (Webcomic)

Created by: Moon Si Hyun / Doubu

Genre: Isekai

Considering that the story starts out with a little boy the main character and sister adopt that turns into a half naked man at night, I didn't really see the yandere come in, but I was very obviously wrong. This series does have the male lead as a yandere, but he is more on the mild side, with kidnapping and being overprotective. The story just finished it's second season with currently about 83 chapters.

The story starts out pretty simply with Amy's older sister, Diana, picking up the male lead. Although he is a child, Amy recognizes immediately that he is the male lead who is under a curse, Lennox of the cursed royal family. Unable to tell Diana this, she helps name the child Nox and takes care of him. At night, Amy finds out that Nox turns back into his adult (and half naked) form, and initially is very hostile towards Amy, not knowing where he is and what is going on. Amy learns that Nox (his younger form) and Lennox (his adult form) don't share memories and has to explain to Lennox about what is going on. She promises to take care of both forms and decides to not tell Diana as to not freak her out. After some days, Diana comes back from working as a adventurer (or swords lady, I'm not actually sure) to try to keep Amy and Nox safe, as it seems like there is someone hunting them. Amy and Lennox are able to escape and with the help of Lennox's sword fighting abilities is able to fight off the people after him and escape into the woods. There, Amy finds a book relating to Nox's curse, which also gives her a sigil on her hand that can make Nox turn into a boy and vice versa. Diana is able to save the two and soon after finds out about Nox's curse after finding Lennox hugging Amy at night (and almost skewering him). Eventually, one of Lennox's lackys comes to try to find him, and although Nox doesn't want Amy to leave him, Amy and Diana are forced to escape into the city and live a new life so that they aren't caught by the royal guards and so that Nox can find the real female lead to fall in love with.

After three years, the sisters continue to live together, and Amy actually meets with the crowed prince who seems surprisingly interested in her because of her strong magic. She, of course, doesn't want any attention and tries to push him off of her, though later down the line, he continues to persist meeting her in visions. Amy gets kidnapped by Nox's people and Nox basically imprisons her in the mansion that he has. Initially Amy attempts to bid her time and run away, but eventually starts to fall for Nox again. Nox has also been able to tone down his curse, now only turning into a child every 15 days instead of every night, something that he later does use to his advantage. During this time, Amy also learns about the tale of Lennox's family and their relationship to the Fenrirs, whom they bond with. The Fenrir actually decides to give Amy it's child to take care of, which Amy does (though with more reluctance). As time goes on, Amy starts to really fall for Lennox, and even when Lennox does meet the female lead, he only seems to have eyes for Amy. Diana's sister finally comes into the picture in an attempt to break Amy out, but is later explained the situation from Amy that Nox was the one who took care of her, also the fenrir is able to turn into a human child now. The last couple of chapters are Amy learning magic and going through a couple of trials to try to break Nox's curse.

I will say that while the introduction of this story is fairly interesting, having a cursed male lead that can turn into both a boy and his adult form, with the two sides not sharing any memories, it does get a bit boring after the timeskip. Amy, I think personally isn't all that compelling of a character, since most of her story is pretty standard for isekai, where she's trying to make the story stay the same by avoiding falling for the male lead, but ultimately fails, because he's in love with her. Sure there are moments which I thought were pretty neat like Amy being able to tell that the crowned prince is manipulating her by pretending to be her sister because she can tell that her outfit is of a worse quality than what she would normally wear, or when she's able to learn magic and pass the trials, but ultimately she kind of just feels like she's being swept up by the plot most of the time. I would argue that Diana is much more interesting and she's not really in the story. Putting aside my bias for cool sword ladies, Diana is trying to keep both her and a young boy away from harm by working as a knight, having to hide them both as people are going after them, and although it takes her an oddly long amount of time, is able to find and confront Nox about kidnapping her sister. Unfortunately, she really isn't in most of the story seeing as the story is more focused on Amy and Nox but I honestly wish she had more of a role in the story overall.

Nox and Lennox on the other hand are sort of interesting with the curse going on, swapping to both sides. Both of them have yandere tendencies, though they tend to be light. Nox is much more clingy, kind of similar to Blake from The Little Princess and her Monster Prince, though like Blake he also has the tendency to be more protective over her when there are other characters who he thinks might steal her away (even getting jealous of the baby fenrir she's been taking care of because he wants to be cute too). It is a little sad when Nox sees Amy again after the timeskip as he basically begs her to not leave him again, believing that it's something that he did to make her run away from him, which is what he probably does feel given he doesn't have the memories that Lennox has. I do feel bad for him though since he would have never known why Amy suddenly disappeared. Lennox on the other hand is a bit more possessive and overall protective over Amy. Although initially he seemed distrustful that some random sisters had decided to take care of him, he falls for Amy and then spends a long time trying to look for her and kidnap her, with everyone in the mansion taking care of her or protecting her from evil. That being said, he is one of those yanderes that does respect Amy's space, though he also tries to advance on her multiple times just to show that he's into her.

Overall, I think the story is just kind of okay, and while there are some yandere moments here and there, it's one of those isekai that you read to not really think about, and if you want to see half naked male lead bodies (especially in the first half). If you are interested, please give it a try.

[imjustsocute]

How do you think Lisette would react when she finds out Vasili joined the Pantheon — and his aim was to kill Adler throughout all these years after his fate during Solovetsky, but the problem crosses, realising that Lisette was married with Adler and had kids, which makes Vasili even conflicted, which luckily in the end he doesn't kill him as he finally sides with the CIA, one last time to stop the Pantheon from pursuing their plans.. but he chooses to finally spend a peaceful life — abandoning his friends he once called family, cause the man thought if he stayed in their presence, he'd make them suffer too, and one of them was Lisette. He spared Adler because he had kids. He was a husband to Lisette, the one he called her as his little sister. Sure, he wouldn't forgive Adler for what he did, but he would have him be happy with Lisette because he couldn't sacrifice her happiness because of his suffering. It was a really, really tough decision, but he chose to be a single father for Belikov's children (in my AU), learning to be human again :)

Of course, Lisette would be very disappointed and regret what Vasili had done, the man she once called “big brother” but now he is just a pathetic guy who tried to kill her husband for vengeance. Lisette felt pity. She felt pity for this sad man. “You were a good brother to me, Vasili, but……you’re not different from him right now…to take whatever it takes for nothing…” she said with a sad smile on her face. She knows that she has no right to judge him like that but she wants him to let all the suffering that shackles him for a long time, bury it in the past, and find a reason to live for the best of himself.

After she finds out that he has proven himself to warn her about the Pantheon wanting to get rid of her and her children he helps them escape from both the CIA and the Patheon. She just asked why. Why is he doing this? Is it really worth it to sacrifice his soul for revenge? He only smiles. "No, it's not worth it at all.....I already paid the costs of what I have done." Now he's ready to atone for his sins. Vasili didn't hope for forgiveness from her if he got out of her life she would be happy with her family. 'The True Family'

Lisette saw it in his eyes. 'Sincerity'. No lies, no pretending only ingenuousness that's just the reason enough to forgive him already. She told him that he did not need to do this, to stay with her and they could be together again. But it's too late, Vasili already made the decision he's going to leave her. he doesn't want to make her suffer anymore. Lisette couldn't help anything but let him go no matter how she tried to convince him he wouldn't listen to her and leave anyway. Before Vasili did go Lisette said goodbye to him "Be happy, brother." Vasili kissed her forehead. "You will be my lovely sister forever." And this was the last meeting between them."

(OMG. I had never written such a long story like this before. My grammar must really suck. I'm sorry if anything went wrong with my writing. And thanks for asking! I really fun writing interactions between OCs even though my English is terrible.🫠)