#they are connected across the universes...

[hrrtshape]

THINGS TO REMEMBER WHEN YOU'RE DOUBTING SHIFTING a.k.a DIVING INTO THE CONCEPT OF THE SOUL ✶

the idea of souls is the most beautiful, most romantic thing ever. because...who are we really? we’re not just flesh and bone, ticking along. we’re something more.

your soul is the eternal essence of you—your consciousness, your thoughts, your love, your dreams. it’s the part of you that has existed forever and will continue long after this one human life is done. the body? a temporary rental. the soul? that's the real home.

imagine this: your soul is like a little spark of the universe, a fragment of the stars, wandering through realities to experience everything it can. each life, each timeline, each moment is like flipping to a new page in a book. it’s all about the story, and the story is infinite.

𖥻  THE ETERNAL YOU. who you are right now? that’s just one chapter. your soul has seen other worlds, other lives, other possibilities. every little thing you feel, the deja vu, the dreams that feel too real, the magnetic pull toward certain initiatives, periods of time, objects—that’s your soul saying, “hey, remember when we were here before ?”

𖥻  SOULS DON’T AGE. that’s the gag. you might be whatever age you are right now here and now, but your soul? it's ancient. timeless. wise beyond the stars. think about how you sometimes just know things, or you feel a deep connection to places, people, or ideas. that’s your soul’s memory peeking through.

𖥻  THE COSMIC GAME. your soul came here to play. to love, cry, mess up, and learn. it’s all about experience—because even the messy parts, the heartbreak and chaos? they add flavour to the story. your soul isn’t scared of pain; it’s curious. it’s here to gather every emotion, every shade of existence.

𖥻  SOUL CONNECTIONS. you know those people you meet and immediately click with, like you’ve known them forever? or the places that feel like home even if you’ve never been there? that’s soul recognition. your soul is like, “hey, I know you ! we’ve danced this dance before.” example of this in my life is the fact that i genuinely believe i'm connected with the city of paris—i can't begin to describe the depression i have whenever i leave it or the ecstasy that runs through my brain every second i'm there. coincidence`? i think not.

𖥻  THE UNIVERSE IS YOUR CANVAS. your soul doesn’t just exist in this one little reality. oh no. it's out there painting across dimensions, skipping through timelines, creating infinite versions of itself. and every version? it’s still YOU. all of them are threads in the tapestry of your existence.

𖥻  SOULS ARE STARDUST. LITERALLY. you’re made of the same stuff as the stars. so, if you’ve ever stared at the night sky and felt small, flip that thought. you’re not small—you’re connected. you’re the universe looking back at itself. you’re a whole galaxy in human form.

𖥻  LOVE IS THE LANGUAGE OF SOULS. not just romantic love (though, yes, swoon), but the love you feel for life, art, music, laughter, sunsets, the way your favourite book smells. that’s your soul’s way of speaking. every time you feel love, you’re feeding your soul.

𖥻  DEATH ISN’T THE END. it’s just the soul saying, “okay, cool chapter. time for the next one.” it’s moving forward, exploring, learning, always expanding. the end of this life is just the beginning of another adventure.

𖥻  YOU’RE NOT YOUR BODY. your body is stunning and unique and so, so special. but it’s not YOU. the real you is the consciousness inside, the little light piloting this human-shaped vessel. your soul chose this body, this life, this moment for a reason.

𖥻  EVERYTHING IS VIBRATION. your soul is energy. and energy? it doesn’t die. it flows, shifts, and transforms. when you feel aligned, like you’re glowing or vibrating with joy—that’s your soul saying, “YES, this is it, this is what i’m here for.”

so when you feel stuck or small, remember this: you are a spark of eternity wrapped up in human skin. you are light, love, and infinite potential. your soul is dancing through this reality, and every breath, every moment is a gift it chose to experience.

you’re a freaking miracle. and everything is truly possible.

[writingwithfolklore]

How to Ask for Stuff

Being able and knowing how to ask for things that you want is an incredibly important skill for… y’know, getting what you want. Whether it’s mentorship, feedback, an explanation or quick advice, networking, a job, etc. etc. etc. it's important you ask the right way to have the best chance of success.

There’s three things that should be in your request:

1. Who are you—how are you related?

This should be short and sweet. “I am a university student studying major, and was in professor’s class where you presented last week.” Or “I am a recent graduate looking to get a foothold in blah blah industry, and saw you had a lot of experience on your linkedIn profile.”

You really don’t need more than that to make yourself relevant and create a connection with this person, and it immediately sets you apart as an individual/real person. People are more likely to help people that they feel like they know in some way, rather than a complete stranger. If you are a complete stranger, explain why you decided to reach out to them specifically.

2. What exactly are you looking for

Be as specific as possible. It is far better to say, “I am looking for feedback on the first five pages of my novel, specifically around if the opening grabs the audience.” Than, “I am looking for feedback.”

This part can be a little bit scary because it is the actual asking for what you want part, but if people know exactly what you want, they will find it a lot easier to help you. Other things you can ask for: “I am looking to sit down with you for coffee and discuss your experience in the industry.” Or “I was hoping you may have some leads for where to start with my job search” etc. etc.

3. What will the project/request look like?

This will help the person decide if they have the time or availability to do what you are asking for. If you’re looking to meet with them, include your availability and where or how you are able to meet. If it’s more of a feedback situation, include when you would need notes back by and how you would like to receive said notes. So,

“I am available Monday through Friday after 5pm to meet. Please let me know if you are interested and available within that schedule!”

“If you are interested, I would love the opportunity to get on a Zoom call with you to discuss feedback. I am available any time on weekends, and would prefer if you were able to get back to me by March 1st as I will need time to adjust the piece for the due date.”

Etc. etc.

              It’s important that you maintain a professional and friendly tone, even with people who have already agreed to help you. Some ways of asking for things that I have received that I find very discouraging are:

Disinterested

I got a request that was basically, “help me if you want, I don’t care it doesn’t matter to me either way.” If you don’t care, then why would I care? Only reach out to people you genuinely want to collaborate in some way with, and make clear that you are interested in working with them. We’re not trying to look cool and disinterested here.

Impatient

Everyone is busy all the time. If your person doesn’t reply right away, do not send a message back around the lines of, “um hello??” or “are you going to reply or not?” this comes across as pretty rude and a bit entitled to that person’s time and immediate attention. If your person doesn’t reply, you can send a follow up after a week, and maintain the same tone as in your initial email/message:

“Hi (name), this is a friendly follow-up on my request. If you have any additional questions for me, please let me know. I am also able to accommodate another time slot if needed. Thank you!”

As the asker, it is your job to be flexible. Of course, if your person can’t make your hard deadline or you really can’t make your schedules work, thank them anyway and move on, but if you are able to accommodate them, do so!

Here is an example email to start you off:

Hello (person’s name), My name is (blank) and I am a (major) student/graduate from (blank) University. We met at the (place) job fair last week, and I was really intrigued by your experience in (blah) industry. I was wondering if you would be available to meet with me sometime in the next week to discuss how you got started in the industry and your experience at (company). I am available between (time) and (time) (days of the week), but may be able to accommodate a different time if it would work better for you. Please let me know if you are interested! Thank you, (Full name)

[hotguycomiczine]

Is this comic anyhow related to the Double Hearted comic? Until now I thought it was the same thing 😅

Hello! The HOTGUY COMICS Zinethology has no relation to the Double Hearted comics, nor is it connected to its narrative or universe. Instead, the story and lore were conceptualized by all of our contributors and then crafted into a linear story by the moderators— hence why there are gaps in the HGCZ timeline between pieces, as well as a few questions left unanswered for the future. Very little of the HGCZ universe was decided before our contributors had the chance to collaborate on it during our creation period, which mainly took place in the full month we set for character discussion and the mutation polls. While our head moderator TJ @definitelynotshouting came up with the initial worldbuilding before the zinethology began, the only things really established were the setting, Hotguy's backstory as an actor, the concept of mutations as a whole, and the TCG— all purely as a jumping off point to get our contributors started.

It's likely that the reason DDVAU and HGCZ are often confused is because the creators of DDVAU, @kitsuneisi and @xmaruu11, were actually guest contributors for HGCZ itself! However, their lovely contribution to our zinethology was not related in any way to Double Hearted, and instead takes place early in the vigilante careers of Hotguy and Cuteguy for HGCZ's specific world. That being said, we're honored that they chose to be a part of our project on top of everything else they were working on at the time, so we're pleased to see their work get so much love.

In short, this zinethology's story was built by the community across every single one of our contributors! We're insanely grateful for their passion and commitment to telling this story, because it would have been nowhere near as rich and incredible a tapestry if they had not been so driven. Thank you for the question, and cheers!

[olivialau]

Shadow's Embrace Ch.32

Sukuna x Reader

Notes:

This story unfolds in the Jujutsu Kaisen world, set in a slightly altered universe where Sukuna inhabits his own vessel distinct from Itadori Yuji's body, making him a separate entity. CHAPTER CONTAINS SMUT AND SLIGHT DUBCON.

Summary:

Ryomen Sukuna, the King of Curses, becomes fascinated with a female sorcerer rich in potential but lacking control. Initially seizing her for his destructive plans, Sukuna aims to bind her abilities through a contract. Yet, as he tries to dominate her, he finds himself intrigued by her strength and determination. Over time, his interest evolves from strategic advantage to a deeper, personal connection.

-----------------------------------------

CHAPTER 32 - Two Sides of the Same Door

Through the haze of sleep, you felt the cold sting of the room’s chill against your cheeks. The silken sheets draped over the rest of you held your warmth like a soft cocoon, and you clutched them tighter, dragging them up to cover the tip of your nose—but instantly regretting it as they slipped off your feet, leaving your toes at the mercy of the biting air.

“Damn it,” you muttered under your breath, shifting as you tried to burrow back into your cozy nest, clinging to the last wisps of thoughtless sleep. But there was always some part of you left exposed, just enough for goosebumps to creep across your skin, each one nudging you closer to the horrible but inevitable process of waking up.

You sighed, pulling the silk all the way over your head as if that could somehow make you disappear—or at least protect you from the waking world and its shameful reminders of yesterday.

But there was no escaping.

The raw sting on your inner thighs, the angry scratches on your hips where his claws had dug in like he was holding down a prey, the tender ache of your swollen lips from his countless, hungry kisses—they were all too painfully present to ignore.

Yeah... it was pretty clear that no amount of covers could hide you from the truth:

That, yesterday, Ryomen Sukuna, the King of Curses, had reduced you to a drooling, moaning mess for him...

Him and his stupid, supersized cock.

You grimaced, reaching down to where your skin still tingled and burned, tracing your finger over your thigh, surprised by how tacky and stiff the surface felt.

But you quickly jerked your hand back as your brain processed why—

“Ah, for fuck’s sake,” you whine out. Of course, he hadn’t even bothered to clean up his mess. Dried streaks of cum were still smeared across your skin, a sticky testament to his apparent philosophy of:

'You dare pass out on me? Then suffer the consequences.'

Sleep was definitely off the table now. A shower was all you could think about. So, you pushed the silk sheets off your face, forcing your eyes open.

The four crimson walls of Sukuna’s room stared back at you, only lit up by the flickering glow of a few candles. Their light glinted off the many deadly weapons on display, casting little spots of yellow that danced across the surface.

It was surprisingly beautiful, and you followed the little lights all the way down to the floor, where your torn clothes lay scattered in pieces.

And that’s when you realized, you were among those scraps, sprawled out on the cold oak boards instead of the mattress.

You could add that to the lecture he was definitely going to get later on his complete lack of proper aftercare...

Though you could already hear his cocky retort in your head: 'Hah! A mere human should be honored to sleep in my presence at all.'

Thinking of Sukuna’s presence… you blinked, suddenly uneasy. It wasn’t there—the thick, oppressive energy that always hung around him like a stormcloud.

The air felt wrong without it.

A nervous feeling crept over you as you pushed yourself upright, your gaze immediately darting to the bed—empty.

The mattress still bore the dents, creases, and stains from last night, but Sukuna was nowhere to be seen.

For a second, you couldn’t stop your thoughts from spiraling. Was history about to repeat itself? Did he regret yesterday?

Had it been a bit... too much?

No. You couldn’t let your mind go there. You gave yourself a light slap to the cheek, to snap out of it. Sukuna wouldn’t abandon you—not anymore. He’d admitted it himself: ignoring you only made it worse.

You took a steadying breath.

Actually, this wasn’t unusual at all. The lack of windows in his dark abode made it impossible to tell if dawn had just broken or if the morning was already well underway. And you knew that Sukuna often left early, slipping out to handle whatever bloody business occupied him out there.

Now that you thought about it, there was a big fat chance he hadn’t even left at all. Maybe he was just a floor below, seated on his throne like some goddamn king.

Clutching the sheets tight around your chest, you glanced down at your torn clothes. Completely ruined—unwearable in their current state. You sighed and scanned the room until your eyes landed on one of Sukuna’s robes draped over an antique chair.

It felt like a crime to even look at it, but your options were—you reached down, hand clutching at the shredded remains of your panties on the floor—limited.

What else were you supposed to do when he’d torn every other piece of clothing in the room?

You quickly slipped into the large robe and quietly shuffled over to the door.

When you pushed it open, a sudden flood of light hit you, and you squinted, your eyes fighting to adjust. The huge hole in the doorframe let in all the harsh rays of sunlight, and you could barely see.

“Argh, too bright.”

You held one hand out in front of you like a makeshift obstacle detector while the other shielded your eyes as you tried to peer through the tiny gaps between your fingers.

But even then, you nearly tripped over the damn robe when a loud crash suddenly boomed through the air, followed by screams so piercing that you wished you had a second pair of hands to cover your ears as well as your eyes.

To the best of your ability, you hurried to the entrance and peeked out into the corridor, trying to locate the source of the panic.

But there was no one there...

Then another scream rang out, this one clearly coming from the apartment two doors down. Without thinking, you rushed in that direction. But right as your feet moved, you froze.

There was a sharp swish followed by a guttural growl that could only belong to one person.

Sukuna.

Your breath caught as he stepped into view, casually hauling a massive wooden door under his arm. Blood streaked his bare chest, fresh and glistening, but it was the grin curling at the corner of his mouth that stopped you cold.

He didn’t look the slightest bit bothered by the chaos he’d caused. No—that sorry mess didn’t matter to him.

What mattered to him was you—and how utterly baffled you looked—and how endlessly amusing he found it every time he succeeded in unnerving you like that...

When he was a foot away from you and nearly knocked you in the head with the door that jutted out from under his shoulder, he raised a teasing brow.

“Hm? Not moving, brat?”

Instinctively, you stepped aside and followed him into the apartment, still glaring with wide eyes—kind of—able to deduce what had just happened but unable to let it fully sink in...

Sukuna noticed your big-eyed stare and set the door down against the wall.

He was clearly irritated by your inability to comprehend the obvious, and so he proceeded to explain it to you as if you were some dumb, snotty child.

“It's a new door, woman. Since that blue-eyed pest destroyed the last one... You have eyes, don't you?” He scoffed.

“So why must I spell it out?”

The brand-new door, identical to the old one... his bloodstained chest and the hellish screams from two doors down.

“You...” You put a palm to your face.

“Oh my god, Sukuna, did you hurt the neighbors and steal their door?”

Sukuna looked at you again, that same look as before—the one that made you feel like you’d just said the most dim-witted thing imaginable.

“Huh? Hurt? No... I killed them. Once again, you have functioning eyes, don't you?”

He dragged a finger through the large stain of blood on his chest, as if to drive the point home.

Oh god.

Every time your stupid crush clouded your judgement, Sukuna made sure to remind you of who he really was—in the most twisted, wicked way possible.

And the worst thing... you were pretty sure it wasn’t even intentional; it was just who he was.

“Sukuna! You what?!” You yelled out peeking outside to make sure he wasn't kidding. But to your horror, you saw a big pool of blood forming in front of the entrance, two houses away.

You glared at him in fury,

“You can't just kill people to get a damn door? Are you crazy?”

Sukuna barely paid you any mind as he hoisted the door back into place, lining it up over the hinges with a snarl.

“Woman, you know exactly who I am. I'd say you're the delusional one for thinking I would do anything less than slaughter them...” He let out a cruel chuckle.

“Have you fallen so hard after getting a taste of me that your judgment’s all clouded?”

With a sharp snap, he slammed the door into its hinges.

“Don't think yesterday changes anything. I may tolerate your presence, but that's all. I don't tolerate weak, groveling insects.”

He tolerates you, huh? Somehow, that felt like a compliment. An odd, backhanded one, sure... but;

It scared you how you lit up at his words—forgetting the whole door situation so easily. It was more than unsettling. Sukuna was carving gashes into your morals, into your sense of self, cut by cut—and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

“So… I’m not, a weak, groveling insect? Is that what you’re saying?” you asked, blinking up at him through your lashes.

“If that’s the case… how about you let me return to Jujutsu High? I’m sure I can defend myself now. Seeing as I'm 'not weak' and all,”

Sukuna finally turned to face you, slowly... deliberately.

He cocked his head, crimson eyes narrowing as his hand disappeared into the pocket of his pants.

Time seemed to freeze as he rummaged around, your focus entirely on him. And then, with one quick jerk, he pulled something free—a glint of silver catching the light.

Before you could react, he tossed it at you—your dagger—now hurling in your direction with lightning speed.

“Hey—!” you yelped, scrambling to catch it.

Your fingers slipped over the hilt, the blade nicking your palm before you finally secured it in your grip.

“What the hell?! That’s dangerous!”

Sukuna shrugged, his grin spreading until a flash of white peeked through his lips.

“If a little nick like that has you whining, then you've answered your own question,”

The 'fuck you' forming on your tongue quickly fizzled out as you glanced down at the dagger. The blade was smeared with something dark—fresh blood.

Your stomach churned. Did he…? No. He couldn’t have. Could he?

“What were you even doing with this?” you demanded, your voice dropping lower, reluctant to hear the answer.

Sukuna didn’t bother to reply. Instead, he stepped toward you, like a lion stalking its prey. He stopped just a few paces away, spreading his arms wide to bare his tattooed chest. His gaze flickered briefly to the dagger in your hand, then locked with yours, a challenge in his eyes.

“C’mon, brat,” he rumbled.

“Try and cut me. If you can leave another mark—” He glanced at the faint gash on his palm, the one you’d left there yesterday with this very blade.

“—then I’ll allow you to return to Jujutsu High,” His grin widened until it was all sharp teeth and menace.

The fact that the cut was still there was a bit of a surprise. Why hadn't he healed it? Was it some sort of funny little souvenir to him?

Well... you'd gladly give him another if that meant you could get out of this brick jail.

You gripped the hilt of the blade tighter, steadying your cursed energy as it seeped slowly into the steel. The dagger pulsed under your touch—alive, and growing stronger with every drop you fed it.

Sukuna stood across from you, legs casually planted and arms now relaxed at his sides—deceptively open, practically inviting you to try and touch the invincible King of Curses.

A maddeningly smug grin was plastered across his face, promising one thing: he wasn’t going to go easy on you. And there was no way in hell you’d walk away from this unscathed.

And, to be fair, even you couldn't deny—this was going to be an uphill battle.

The cut you landed yesterday? A mere stroke of luck. He hadn’t seen it coming—hadn't anticipated that you could use your technique on cursed tools too—but now?

His full focus was locked on you.

Surr, he looked unbothered, but you weren’t naive enough to ignore the way his eyes tracked every single twitch of your muscles, every little flicker in your energy.

You took a deep breath.

At least you knew Sukuna’s fighting style; hours of grueling training had burned it into your bones.

His attacks were precise, unforgiving, and overwhelmingly quick.

So... how on earth would you do this?

Outmuscling him? Outrageous idea—his godly abs were staring you right in the face, telling you no way in hell.

Outmaneuvering him? Not a chance—his speed was unrivaled, save maybe for Gojo.

Outsmarting him? Difficult—Sukuna wasn’t just a fighter; he was cunning and calculated, the kind of opponent who could predict your moves before you'd even thought of them.

Which left... what exactly? Dumb luck? Sheer stubbornness? Maybe a few dirty tricks? Yeah, those were pretty much your only options...

You wasted no more time as you lunged forward, feinting left and then slicing low. But he didn’t even bother to dodge; he simply swatted your blade away with the flat of his hand.

At the same time, his other hand shot out, targeting your shoulder with a power-packed punch that you barely managed to dodge, twisting away just in time.

He followed up with a lightning-quick kick aimed at your side—a kick you could barely even perceive—and this time, it hit.

The impact was no joke, knocking the breath clean out of you, pain exploding across your ribcage as you stumbled backward into a coughing fit.

“You bore me, woman,” Sukuna drawled, faking a yawn, as his hands slipped down his pockets.

Gritting your teeth, you found your footing and pushed more cursed energy into the blade, feeling its weight grow heavier in your hands. If Sukuna could swat it away with his bare hands so effortlessly, it was clear you needed to channel every ounce of your power…

You charged again, unleashing a flurry of strikes aimed at his torso, fighting against the pain in your own torso. But Sukuna dodged each strike with infuriating ease—like you were nothing more than an irritating fly buzzing around his head.

“Cute,” he smirked as his hands left his pocket, and he threw his fist at you, this time targeting your stomach.

You squatted down, ducking under his attack and pivoting back to deliver a kick to his shin. And to your surprise, it landed—a small victory... but Sukuna barely flinched.

He grabbed you by the collar of your robe—or rather, his robe—you were still trapped in. And with a sharp yank, he pulled you forward.

You stumbled, your foot catching on the excess fabric at your ankles, cursing under your breath as you lost balance. And Sukuna wasted no time, seizing the opening.

His hand shot out, grasping your wrist and twisting it with a sharp crack, forcing the dagger from your grip...

It clattered to the ground, your lifeline and only chance at freedom lost.

To make things worse—before you could recover—he spun you around and shoved you down, bending you over the back of the couch.

“That's what you get for touching my things without permission, brat,” he taunted, his chest pinning you in place.

“And here I thought you might actually put in some effort to see your pathetic friends at Jujutsu High...”

You struggled against his hold, writhing as your heart thundered in your ears. The position was very uncomfortable, but worse still—it was very distracting. The warmth of his bare chest snug against your back, his breath teasing the side of your neck... it sent waves of vivid flashbacks from the previous day crashing over you.

And as you recalled all the nasty little things the two of you had done... suddenly, an idea hit you;

If there was ever a moment to play dirty, this was it.

You shifted subtly, tilting your hips and pressing your ass up against him. The movement was so slight that it could have been unintentional—not overt enough to betray your intentions, yet deliberate enough to catch Sukuna’s attention.

Just as you hoped.

He froze for a moment, the muscles in his arm letting loose as his cock twitched a single time—it was all the sign you needed to know his focus had slipped.

With the tip of your foot, you nudged the knife up from the ground, wringing free one of your hands and catching the weapon as it flung upward.

At your full speed, you twisted your arm to an impossibly uncomfortable angle and slashed upward, pouring every last drop of cursed energy into the blade as you blindly aimed for his ribs.

Sukuna’s eyes widened as he felt the blade bite into his side—not deep, but enough for a thick stream of blood to spill out.

He let out a low, pissed-off growl, his grip on you tightening for a fleeting moment before he stepped back and pulled away.

You picked yourself up from the back of the couch, panting fiercely as you leveled the dagger at him, the hilt still warm in your sweaty grip.

Meanwhile, Sukuna’s eyes trailed down to the cut, then back to you, a wicked grin returning to his face as he smeared the blood away with his hand.

For a moment, you couldn't help but admire how incredibly sexy he looked while doing so, but you quickly refocused when he let out a low, dark cackle.

“Clever, little minx,” he purred.

You stared at the wound spilling blood, feeling a twinge of guilt, wildly overshadowed by an overbearing satisfaction, as a teasing smile tugged at your lips.

“So, does that mean I can go back to Jujutsu High then?” you asked with a wink.

Sukuna wiped the remnants of blood off on his pants and stepped in your direction.

“Sure, little sorcerer, do whatever you want—” he replied, surprisingly—no, suspiciously easy in his concession.

And lo and behold, before you could fully relish your hard-won triumph, Sukuna's hand slipped around your waist, yanking you toward him and slamming you against the door.

With your back pressed against the cool wood, his calloused hand clamped around your wrists, pinning them above your head as the dagger clattered helplessly to the floor.

“And I’ll do as I please too,” he murmured against your ear, his breath filled with a hunger that you knew meant trouble.

With no mercy, he ripped the belt from your robe, the fabric falling open to expose your bare skin beneath. His toothy grin made way for a lustful smirk—one that was unexpectedly soft and playful for a man they called the King of Curses.

“Ah...! Don't do that,” you breathed, a shiver rippling through you as he traced his nails down your breast, visibly delighting in the display of scratches and marks he’d left on you the day before.

“Don’t do that? Have you forgotten… this is my robe. I can do whatever I desire with it,” his voice dropped to a sultry growl, deep and throaty—the cold touch of his fingertips drifting lower, teasing at the juncture of your legs.

“I can tear it right off your body if it pleases me.”

His hand slipped between the soft fat of your thighs, fingers burrowing down your folds as he found your clit with surprising ease. He began tracing circles, slowly drawing out each little motion as your legs instinctively clenched around his hand.

You’d never expected Sukuna to be so skilled at something so delicate; and it had to be a natural talent because you were certain he didn’t have any real experience in pleasing women.

Sure, he’d undoubtedly fucked an entire carousel back in the Heian Era, but this wasn't mere fucking—this was playing, teasing—edging.

And just as heat began to coil tightly in your belly, he withdrew his hand, trailing lower to collect the juices leaking from your cunt.

“And by the looks of you—”

He smeared the slick over the tender skin between your thighs, blending it with remnants of yesterday’s escapades that you still hadn’t managed to wash off.

“All marked and coated by me… I’d say I’ve left quite the claim on this insatiable body too.” His lips curled into a devilish grin, and your cheeks flushed crimson as you looked away.

“Argh—shut up! I'm not your property... I'm—Ah!”

Sukuna’s grip shifted from your thighs to your ass, squeezing a handful of flesh as he pressed his blood-stained torso against your breasts. His mouth inched toward your neck, teeth grazing your skin before he dragged his tongue slowly up to your ear, where a breathy whisper reverberated against your eardrums.

“Hmm~ is that so? Lucky for you, I have no qualms about taking what does not belong to me either.”

He pressed his growing cock against your pelvis, and you gulped, your heartbeat quickening as your hands twitched helplessly against his firm grasp.

Then, with a harsh slap to your ass—that stung like hell, by the way—his hand slid back down to your cunt, teasingly halting at your entrance...

He tapped lightly, his finger probing and rubbing, but never entering, the slick sound of your arousal filling the air as strings of juices clung to his fingertip.

You had to fight the urge to beg for more—so fucking bad.

And just as you felt yourself teetering on the edge of breaking, on the verge of surrendering your pride, a loud bang echoed against the door, reverberating through your entire body.

The doorframe shuddered, again and again as the first bang was followed by a chorus of firm knocks on the other side of the door.

Sukuna's expression darkened, a burning red igniting in his narrowed eyes as they locked onto the rattling doorknob. His patience thinned with each persistent knock, and his fingers twitched, ready to cut down whoever was behind that door.

But just as he prepared to strike, a voice sliced through the charged tension.

“Will you open the door? I can sense your cursed energy from miles away, Sukuna. We have matters to discuss.”

You recognized that voice—smooth and seemingly amicable, yet undeniably cold; it belonged to his monk-clad accomplice with the long shiny hair and the weird stitch down his forehead.

If you remembered right, he introduced himself as Geto back then...

Sukuna let out a mix between a sigh and a growl, his brows furrowing as his pupils shifted from the doorknob to you, warning you with his piercing stare.

“Don’t move and don’t make a sound.”

With that, he released your wrists, using the hand to grasp the doorknob and crack the door open just enough to peer through, effectively trapping you against the door with his body.

The fingers of his other hand continued to hold your dripping pussy hostage, teasing at your entrance even when you tried to push his hand away.

Fuck, this was embarrassing—so embarrassing that you felt like you might spontaneously combust when Sukuna started casually conversing with Geto through the gap.

“What is it? I’m busy. I don’t take lightly to being interrupted, Kenjaku.”

Kenjaku? That was strange... you were so certain he’d introduced himself as Geto before—or were you mistaken?

You tried to focus on their conversation, making every effort to ignore the little jolts of pleasure that threatened to escape as moans. Sukuna dipped down with just the slightest bit more force each time, nearly slipping inside and keeping you on edge.

The calm yet cold voice on the other side of the door answered:

“Hah. Yes, I’m terribly sorry about that, but there’s been a change of plans, and I had to inform you. We wouldn’t want to do anything without your say-so, now would we?”

“Hmph.”

Sukuna’s brows unfurrowed ever so slightly at the explanation, and you even caught the hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. But it quickly became clear that had nothing to do with the conversation.

Suddenly, you felt his thick finger breach past your entrance, the sharp edge of his nail skimming against your gummy walls. An unexpected gasp slipped from your lips, and you quickly clamped your hand over your mouth, desperate to stifle the sound.

You shot Sukuna a pleading look, shaking your head, silently begging him to stop. But the smug bastard didn't even acknowledge you.

If anything, your silent protests only seemed to spur him on.

His pace quickened, finger pumping in and out of you, each thrust grazing all your tender spots inside with torturous precision. Waves of tingly pleasure rippled through your nerves, only amplified by how on high alert you were at the possibility of getting caught at any moment.

And damn, your body betrayed you so easily, clenching around his finger despite your mind’s protests.

Sukuna, on the other hand, kept his poker face effortlessly intact, continuing his conversation with not a care in the world...

Though that wasn't to say he didn't secretly relish every tight squeeze around his digit—every pretty little moan you so desperately tried to suppress.

“Well, I don't have time, leave and tell me later.” he hissed through the crack of the door, already moving to slam it shut.

But just before it closed, you caught Geto—or was it Kenjaku?—shoving his sandal between the door's edge.

Your heart lurched in panic. There was no way you were going to get caught in this position. You’d never recover your pride—if you even had any left.

Desperate to escape, you tried to slip from Sukuna’s grip, but he tightened his hold, refusing to let you go.

His muscled torso pressed you tighter against the door as he pushed in a second finger, both curling up to press right against your most sensitive spot before he fell back into his rhythm.

And with two thick fingers fucking into you, the moist, mushy sounds of your arousal became shamefully obvious, your cunt growing wetter and wetter.

“I see... is that so?” The composed purr from the other side was now tinged with a knowing hint of mischief.

“—I’ll give you a second then. Though, I really must insist you wrap it up,” he added, finally pulling his foot back from the door, allowing your pounding heart a brief respite as you exhaled through your fingers.

Sukuna grunted, clearly not thrilled, but reluctantly agreed.

“Fine,” he spat, before slamming the door shut and turning his gaze back to you.

He tore your hand from your mouth and slid his fingers down your cunt, all the way to the base, wanting to hear you moan over him properly, at least once.

Then, with a slow pull, he retracted his fingers, leaving you terribly empty, clenching down on nothing but air.

His hand glistened with your juices, and he admired his efforts for a moment before casually wiping them dry against his chest.

“We'll have to finish this some other time, little sorcerer,” he murmured, finally stepping back and giving you some space to breathe.

Though, in all honesty, you were more than a little disappointed he cut it off like that.

And apparently, your face betrayed your frustration because Sukuna's scowl softened into a half grin, his eyes catching your sad, shiny ones.

“Hah. So desperate? In that case, I’ll make sure you beg for it properly next time,” he teased, pulling you away from the door and ushering you on with a rough push to your back.

“Shower, clean that filth off, and go to your precious friends at Jujutsu High,” he called out from behind you as he walked back to the door and grabbed hold of the knob.

You froze at his words. He'd seriously allow you to go back to Jujutsu High? And today, no less? A rush of excitement jolted through you, quickly replacing any lingering disappointment with a silly sense of joy.

“Hurry, brat, unless you want to give my visitor a show,” Sukuna warned, tapping his foot in impatience.

Oh snap. You pulled the robe close and hurried to the bathroom, a small smile tugging at your lips. Once inside, you locked the door behind you and let out a long sigh of relief.

Finally, this confinement would end. You’d be able to see your friends again, escape this cramped apartment, and taste a sliver of freedom—even if the vow, ultimately, still shackled you.

Though right now... that wasn’t even the strongest chain holding you in place.

No, that honor belonged to your ever-growing feelings for Sukuna, binding you in ways far more terrifying than any vow ever could.

You turned to the mirror, studying your reflection as the robe slipped off your shoulders, pooling at your feet. Now, seeing all the scratches and marks Sukuna had left on you for the first time...

And there were plenty of them.

It was as if you could still feel his touch, and god, it felt so good... but you couldn’t help but wonder: was this really okay?

Were you just a fleeting object of enjoyment to Sukuna, or something more?

That thought—that gnawing uncertainty—made you doubt everything.

Stepping into the shower, you let the warm water wash away the lingering traces of his touch, the sticky sweat, and all the other... bodily fluids, disappearing down the drain.

You even allowed yourself to let go of some of the worry, rinsing it away alongside the rest.

For now, you'd shift your focus to the happy things in life: the prospect of seeing your friends again, fresh air, a different environment, talking to your mom, your dad, apologizing, and making everything right...

After drying off, you reached for the uniform tucked in your bag, silently thanking the gods for its long sleeves and high collar—perfect for hiding any residual marks.

You threw on some makeup, fixed your hair, and then stepped out of the bathroom with an excited rush, your backpack slung over your shoulder, ready to go.

Sukuna and his accomplice—now unmistakably recognizable as the man who introduced himself to you as Geto—stood in front of the door, wrapping up whatever short but important conversation they were having.

With your ears perked, you caught the distant sound of Sukuna’s voice.

“Tomorrow afternoon, then. Report back after—or send that fool Jogo, I don’t care. Just take one of them with you. I want to see for myself how strong they are.”

His voice had an unsettling edge to it—a kind of forcibly contained excitement that made your skin crawl. You could feel it in the air too, no doubt a bad omen for what was to come...

When you hesitantly pushed past the doorframe, both men’s eyes snapped to you.

The monk’s serious expression immediately morphed into a fake, polite smile. He regarded you with a little bow of his head and a casual wave.

“Leaving too, are you? Shall I escort you out, miss?”

Sukuna shot him a sharp warning glare at the daring suggestion but still turned away, dismissing his black-haired accomplice with a flick of his hand as he made his way toward the basement.

“Do as you wish, Kenjaku. You know better than to mess with what’s mine, right?” Sukuna glanced over his shoulder one last time, a dangerous grin curling on his lips, before brushing past you.

As he did, he left a breathy whisper at your ear. “Don’t concern yourself. That man knows exactly what I’m capable of.”

You watched him disappear into the basement, and with a deep breath, your gaze reluctantly shifted back to the man—whose name now eluded you—still waiting by the door.

Yanking your coat from the couch, you slipped your arms through, eager to escape—but not before one last thing.

“So, your name’s Kenjaku, then? Not Geto?” you asked, trying to mask the unease in your voice.

Kenjaku chuckled, his brows tugging at the scar on his forehead. “I have many names. Don’t worry about it.”

He gracefully opened the door, gesturing for you to step outside.

You offered him a forced laugh as thanks and quickly turned right, quickening your pace to put as much distance between you and him as possible.

But, as luck would have it, he called after you, sending a chill down your spine.

“Wait.”

You turned, and Kenjaku stood right behind you, his usual slitted eyes now sharp with a dangerous gleam, his polite smile twisted into a sly, devilish smirk.

“We need to discuss something, girl.”

---------------------------------------------------------

Thank you for reading, lovely people 💕 I promise Yuji and the others will be back in the next chapter. ALSO sorry for the slow updates; I'll try to pick up the pace, much like Sukuna this chapter lol 🤭

Taglist: @sukunasthightattoos , @tomiokasecretlover , @6demonize6me6 , @blindbabycadder , @domainofmarie , @marcoschuitmaker , @geniejunn , @chanaaaannel , @nessca153, @technicallysublimedemon,

If you want to be added to the taglist, so you don't miss any updates, please let me know in the comments or with a private message. Thankyou!

[drakorn]

Rewriting Veilguard Part 1 - The World State

Disclaimer: I don't hate the game, I actually think it's quite great given the development hell Bioware went through in those 10 years. This is more of a hypothetical universe where there was less of that behind the scenes drama. Just a fun writing exercise.

Expanding Veilguard's World State Editor

Like many of us, I was disappointed with the total amount of choices carrying over from past games being only three, one of which dealt with romance, two with decisions made in the Trespasser DLC, and all of them being from Inquisition. This already set the precedent that we shouldn’t really be expecting the game to be as connected to our unique Thedas as we have come to be used to from previous titles—no more uniquely flavoured codex entries, no more small but sweet cameos here and there that make the world itself feel like a larger place that we had helped shape.

Given The Veilguard’s very troubled production history of multiple delays, staff layoffs, and all-around restarts of the entire project, it is honestly a surprise that we even got three choices, so credit where credit is due. They made with what they had. But what if The Veilguard had this vision from the start? What if there wasn’t any of this meddling? What if Bioware simply had more time and control? What if they could truly let us import the World State this game deserved?

Now, for this hypothetical rewritten playthrough, I’m going off from the fact that the Dragon Age Keep will not be used; I actually found it a neat idea to tick my three choices in the character creator, and it would have probably been better had Inquisition done something similar. Why do I think that? Because it means we are not running into any dangers of servers potentially shutting down, leaving us trapped in the canon we happened to have imported last. Converting the Keep into an offline editor was a good idea, but unfortunately not executed nearly enough as, let’s face it, we all expected. So we’re gonna have some fun for Veilguard.

Disclaimer: I’m going to refer to the game’s title as Veilguard from now on, not “the” Veilguard. I really don’t like the change of having a “the” in a series of otherwise one-word, or one-number, titles.

Of course, we have to be realistic about this. It is virtually impossible to implement every single decision from across all three games, and those that can be implanted can’t alter the main plot too much. Certainly, we like to imagine and picture things, but let’s approach this from an actually doable point of view.

Right, so imagine you just finalised your Rook, and then get a screen titled “Past Adventures”. Not just “The Inquisition”. And it would take up the entire screen instead of being shoved somewhere in the corner of the final CC page, which many people missed. I could have missed it too, had I not known beforehand that it was going to be there!

It would say something akin to “You can customise the protagonists and several events from the games Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age II, and Dragon Age: Inquisition. These choices will have both major and minor effects on the plot of Veilguard. If this is your first Dragon Age title, you would be advised to skip this section for now, as you may otherwise risk getting overwhelmed. A default World State has been pre-generated for the game.”

Why did I add this disclaimer? Because it would show us, right from the get-go, that we respect both new and old players. If you’re a new player, feel free to skip this part as it won’t matter to you anyway and, quite frankly, you wouldn’t want to spend an eternity in the character creator doing things you might not even be familiar with. But if you’re a returning player or someone who has read up on recaps and watched countless lore videos, come on right in, we’ve got you covered, don’t worry! We know how much time you spent meticulously crafting your World State for Inquisition, so join us and customise to your heart’s content.

If you choose to not skip ahead (honestly the only time I would click “skip” on that shit is if I was a new player), you will be presented with three tarot cards, one shows the griffon, the Grey Warden symbol, one shows Kirkwall’s heraldry, and one shows the Inquisition’s banner. Here’s your previous three games. And now we get to customise them a little. The little gremlin in me would be quite gleefully rubbing his hands at this prospect.

Past Adventures: The Blight

We open the first slide and are immediately hit with a crimson screen and an ambient reprise of several of Inon Zur’s themes from DAO. I loved this part in the game, when you click to customise your Inquisitor and are immediately hit with “Calling the Inquisition”. Really great stuff for early emotions. Now let’s actually customise things.

The Hero of Ferelden

I do not expect us to actually be able to recreate the Warden in the flesh, but I believe they should be at least brought up in conversation or mentioned in codex entries and letters. Here are the things we get to customise about them specifically:

The Hero: Here, we get to tick the race, gender, class, and background for our Warden. Again, no character creator, just fancy tarot cards. But guess what? That would already be more than enough for what we can do. At least we know the game acknowledges their continued existence.

The Warden’s fate: Did the Hero of Ferelden perform the ultimate sacrifice?

Romance: Who did your Warden romance, if at all?

The Companions

Now that our Warden is set, we jump over to DAO’s companions. Each companion has their own little mini-section. The first few questions will always be “Did you even recruit them? And if so, did they survive? If so, were you on good terms or not?” These questions, depending on the answers, will immediately lock or open the more specific ones. Which are, as follows:

Did the Warden have Morrigan perform the Dark Ritual?

What is Alistair’s ultimate fate?

Was Sten reunited with his sword?

What happened to Loghain?

What happened to Marjorlaine?

The Battle of Ostagar

What happened to the prisoner at Ostagar?

The Arl of Redcliffe

What is Connor’s fate?

Is Isolde alive?

Did you help Bevin and return his sword?

The Urn of Sacred Ashes

What happened to the Urn?

The Nature of the Beast

How was the situation between the Dalish and the werewolves resolved?

A Paragon of Her Kind

What happened to the Anvil of the Void?

Who rules Orzammar?

Did the Warden help Brother Burkel create a Chantry in Orzammar?

Did the Warden prove the Legion of the Dead was connected to a noble house?

Did Orta join the Assembly?

Warden’s Keep

What happened to Sophia and Avernus?

Denerim

Did the Warden complete Slim Couldry’s crime wave?

Who rules Ferelden?

Who killed Urthemiel?

Awakening

What happened to Nathaniel?

What happened to the Architect?

What happened to Vigil’s Keep and Amaranthine?

As you can see, I have not included all the choices, just the ones I think can be carried over in both realistic and interesting manners. Not all of them will heavily feature in the game; in fact, many of them are for flavour and codex entries only, but there is still merit in those. We know there is a whole lot of stuff happening in the South thanks to the letters the Inquisitor regales us with. So let’s put some world-state uniqueness to those letters. But in this rewrite, some of these choices will, in fact, feature in a more substantial manner.

And that’s Dragon Age: Origins done! Moving on to the next one!

Past Adventures: The Tale of the Champion

When we enter this screen, the CC assumes Kirkwall’s orangey-yellow tone and we get a reprisal of the key DA2 themes by Inon Zur, the most prominent one being, of course, Hawke’s family theme. This one is not going to be as big as DAO, but there are a few important factors nevertheless, especially concerning possible deaths and survivals.

The Champion of Kirkwall

Unlike the Hero of Ferelden, Hawke will actually be customisable in this one. Because no matter whether or not they were sent to the Fade or Weisshaupt, there is always the potential for them to still be alive. So, here are the choices regarding Hawke:

The Champion: Here you can customise Hawke’s gender, class, and personality.

Who did Hawke romance, if at all?

The Party

Pretty much every companion’s card, aside from a few, will have the questions “Did you recruit them?”, “Are they still alive?”, and “Were they friend or rival to Hawke?” at the forefront. Most of it is gonna be flavour, but it’s still my flavour, dammit!

What happened to Bethany or Carver?

What happened to Isabela and the Tome of Koslun?

What happened to Fenris and Danarius?

What happened to Merrill, her eluvian, and Clan Sabrae?

What happened to Bartrand?

What happened to Anders when the Chantry exploded?

Did Hawke approve of Ander’s actions?

Did Aveline marry Donnic?

The Tale of the Champion

Did Hawke protect the Bone Pit from all its dangers?

What happened to Feynriel?

Did Hawke let Zevran go?

Did Nathaniel survive?

Did Hawke side with the mages or the templars?

Fewer choices are carrying over here compared to DAO, but many of the events that occurred in DA2 are only relevant to Kirkwall’s immediate fate, which is already resolved by the time of DAI. Many of these will be flavour again, but some of them, I’m not going to say which, will definitely have a bigger impact.

Right, we’re done with DA2, let’s move on to the last one!

Past Adventures: The Inquisition

And here we get to the big one, the game that most directly impacts much of DAV’s story. We click on the last page and get the green shades and DAI’s ambience themes, a beautiful reprisal of Trevor Morris’ great hits. I would like to once again reiterate how emotional the CC music made me feel here when I was playing the game. Let us now customise our choices.

The Inquisitor

While the Hero of Ferelden will be a background figure in letters and codex entries, and Hawke more of a minor character with a significant role, the Inquisitor will have a much larger presence. Just how large, you’ll find out soon. But for now, let’s customise them:

The Inquisitor: Here you can customise your Inquisitor’s race, gender, class, and specialisation. Their personality as well, for while it wasn’t as apparent as with Hawke, the Inquisitor does still have a distinct range of dialogue choices. You can still be diplomatic, lighthearted, or even rough.

Who did the Inquisitor romance, if at all?

The Inner Circle

As with the other companion sections, pretty much all slides here will feature the “Did you actually recruit them?”, “Are they still around?”, and “Are you friends or not?” questions. Alongside a few specific ones that will definitely have more of an impact here.

Did Dorian resolve the issue with his father?

What happened to Blackwall?

Did the Iron Bull remain loyal to the Qun?

Did Cassandra rebuild the Seekers of Truth?

Did Cassandra discover the book of secrets and what did she do with it?

What happened to Harmond?

Which path did Cole choose?

What happened to Solas’ friend?

Did Varric track down the red lyrium source?

Did the Inquisitor give Vivienne the heart of a snow wyvern?

How was Cullen’s lyrium dilemma resolved?

How did the Inquisitor help Josephine resolve her family’s fortunes?

Was Leliana hardened or softened?

The Path of the Inquisitor

Did the Inquisitor embrace or denounce their title of Herald of Andraste?

Did the Inquisition side with the mages or the templars?

What was the general principle upon which the Inquisition was founded?

Who rules Orlais?

Who stayed behind in the Fade?

What happened to the Grey Wardens after Adamant Fortress?

What happened to Samson or Calpernia?

Who drank from the Well of Sorrows?

Did the Inquisitor respect the rituals at the Temple of Mythal?

Who became Divine Victoria?

The Inquisition’s Influence

Did the Inquisitor ally with the Hinterland cultists?

Was the rift in Crestwood closed?

Was Caer Bronach captured?

Did the Inquisitor make a deal with Imshael?

Was Suledin Keep captured?

Was Griffon Wing Keep captured?

Was Sutherland’s company formed?

What tone did the Inquisitor’s judgments take?

Jaws of Hakkon

Did the Inquisitor learn Ameridan’s fate?

Was Hakkon slain?

Did the Inquisitor share the truth about Ameridan?

The Descent

Did the Inquisitor stop the earthquakes from destroying the Deep Roads?

Trespasser

What is the ultimate fate of the Inquisition?

What is the Inquisitor’s final goal regarding Solas?

Again, this looks like a lot, and it is, but bear in mind that a lot of these will only have minor impacts on the story in the form of cameos and codex entries. However, there are several major DAI choices that will have significant impact.

For our hypothetical rewrite, I shall not list every single choice I made for my imaginary playthrough. Instead, I shall reveal them as we go along so as not to clutter the space too much. And it’s a bit more fun this way.

And that’s the World State editor finally done! I believe all of these choices are able to feature in some capacity, be it big or small. But no matter if it’s a big world-changing consequence or simple flavour texts and cameos, it will still be our Thedas, our own unique version of it that we helped shape.

Now that the past is dealt with, let’s look at the present. Next time we’ll talk about Rook, the six factions, and why a DAO-style origin story selection would have not only been beneficial but very doable.

Rewriting Veilguard Part 2 - The Shadow Dragons

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Rooted Fates (Doctor Strange)

Summary: Stephen feels familiar with you but he doesn't quite know why.

WC: 1k

Warnings: none? soulmate au?

requested: Hello! May I please request a Soulmates AU fic of Stephen Strange and fem!Reader (who has healing magic & botanical manipulation) and they fall in love again in their current lifetime? (I love fluffy romantic soulmate AUs!) @groovy-lady

read on ao3!

---

The night was quiet in the Sanctum Sanctorum, save for the soft hum of arcane energy that lingered in the air. Stephen Strange stood in the dimly lit library, his fingers tracing the edges of a weathered tome, lost in its pages but distracted by something deeper—an almost unshakable feeling that something was missing. It was a sensation he couldn't quite place, like a persistent whisper he could never quite hear clearly enough to understand.

Then, the door creaked open, and a soft voice broke through his reverie.

“Stephen.”

He looked up, his sharp features softening slightly as he met your gaze. You were standing in the doorway, the faintest hint of a smile on your lips. The air around you seemed to shimmer with an ethereal glow, a gentle aura that wrapped around you like a second skin. Your magic—botanical manipulation and healing—was always subtle but powerful, like the way a garden seemed to breathe life into a space.

You weren't just beautiful, though that much was obvious to anyone who’d ever looked at you. It was something else, something deeper. The connection between the two of you stretched beyond this lifetime, beyond this reality. And though Stephen didn’t understand it fully, he knew it was undeniable.

You closed the door behind you and stepped further into the room, the warm light from the candles flickering across your face. The flowers that had once been so bright and vibrant in your presence were now blooming softly in the corners of the room, their petals glowing faintly.

“Busy?” you asked, your voice carrying that familiar warmth that never failed to ease the tension in his chest.

“Not really,” Stephen replied, closing the book with a soft snap. He pushed it aside and looked at you, though his eyes held a distant curiosity. “What is it, Y/N?”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing the room to stand before him. “You’re always lost in those books, Stephen,” you teased softly, your fingers brushing his. It was a simple gesture, but it felt like the entire universe had paused. The touch of your hand on his sent a ripple of recognition through his chest, as though some long-forgotten memory had awoken.

He blinked, his breath catching for a moment. He knew you, he knew you.

But not from this life.

A ripple of images flashed behind his eyes—another life, another time. The two of you, in a meadow filled with flowers, your hands entwined as you whispered secrets to one another. The feel of your breath on his skin, the warmth of your touch. It was a feeling of peace, of home, but it was fleeting, vanishing before he could fully grasp it.

“Stephen?” you asked again, your voice a little quieter this time, concern lining your features.

He blinked, shaking his head as if to clear the sudden onslaught of memories. “Sorry. I... I just had a moment.”

You frowned slightly but didn’t push him. Instead, you stepped closer, your magic wrapping around both of you like a protective cocoon, filling the room with the scent of fresh earth and growing things. “Is everything alright?”

Stephen swallowed hard, unsure how to explain what he had felt—the recognition, the weight of it. The connection between you wasn’t new, but it felt like something more than just fate. It was as if the two of you had known each other across lifetimes. He couldn’t put it into words, but the magic between you—the way it pulsed in time with his own heartbeat—spoke a truth his mind couldn’t yet comprehend.

“I think I remember you,” he said finally, his voice rough with the raw honesty of his admission.

You blinked, your expression softening with understanding. “You remember me from before, don’t you?”

The words hit him like a wave, crashing over him and pulling him under. Before.

“Yes,” he whispered, his hands shaking slightly as he reached out for you, his fingers brushing your wrist. “It’s all coming back now. We were... together before. Weren’t we?”

You smiled softly, your eyes bright with emotion. “Yes. We’ve been through this many times, Stephen. We’ve always found each other.”

Stephen’s heart stuttered in his chest. “How... how is that possible?”

You stepped closer, your hand resting gently on his chest. “We’re soulmates, Stephen. We always have been. I was always the one who healed you, and you... you taught me how to grow. It’s not a love that ends with each life; it simply changes, evolves.”

The weight of the truth settled around him, and he could feel the stirrings of his own magic responding to yours, the bond between you two undeniable. In this life, he had been so lost in his pursuit of power, in his quest to protect the world, that he’d almost missed the most important thing. You.

And now, with you standing before him, he realized what he had always needed, always longed for, even before he had understood the magic of it.

“You healed me before,” Stephen murmured, his voice thick with the depth of emotion he’d been holding back for so long. “You fixed me, even when I didn’t think I could be fixed.”

You smiled, your touch gentle as you cupped his face in your hands. “I heal because of you, Stephen. You taught me the importance of growth—of not just mending what’s broken but nurturing it so it can flourish.”

He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “And now... now I understand. It wasn’t just about the magic. It was about us. All of this time... all of these lives. I was meant to love you, wasn’t I?”

You kissed him then, soft and slow, the magic between you building with every touch. There was no rush, no need for urgency, just the slow, steady rhythm of two souls reuniting after a long, long time apart.

When you finally pulled away, your forehead rested against his, your breaths mingling. “Yes. You were always meant to love me. And I was always meant to love you, Stephen Strange.”

As he held you, feeling the quiet power of your connection fill every corner of his being, Stephen knew this was just the beginning. In this lifetime, he would make sure to never let you go, to always nurture the love between you, to grow with you in every possible way.

After all, love was magic—and he had finally found his true spell.

[ginxyy]

Letting Go

I’m burning up a sun, just to say Goodbye

Your heart feels heavy as you sit on the edge of your bed, staring at the soft glow of your phone screen. A cascade of memories flashes through your mind, each moment more bittersweet than the last, reminding you of the warmth of his laughter and the solace of his embrace. Mingyu, the galaxy of stardust you fell hopelessly in love with, stands at the center of your thoughts a vibrant star whose brilliance illuminated your once-ordinary life. But now, the distance widens with every tick of the clock, and you’re reminded too sharply of the space between you that only grows as his fame expands.

Mingyu is a name that echoes through arenas, an entity adored and sought after by countless fans whose devotion knows no bounds. And yet here, in the silence of your room, it feels as though he belongs only to you, wrapped in the intimate warmth of your shared moments. You replay the nights in your mind the hushed whispers in the dark, the gentle caress of his hand in yours, evenings spent entwined in each other’s arms where the world outside felt irrelevant, if only for a fleeting moment. But reality has a way of creeping in during those peaceful hours, casting shadows over the fragile sanctuary you’ve built.

You remember how he held you close, the way his eyes sparkled with joy when you talked about your dreams. He would listen intently, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he could hear the silent hope you held for both of you. But as the days turned into months and the months folded into a whirlwind of album launches and concert tours, the spark in his eyes began to wane, replacing joy with an all-consuming exhaustion. With each passing day, you prayed for the return of the boy who used to steal glances at you, the boy who would plan elaborate surprises just to see you smile. Yet, as his world expanded, so did the chasm that separated you.

It’s a cold evening when you find yourself sitting in a cozy café, the muted hum of laughter surrounding you like a comforting quilt. Your fingers grip the cup tightly, the warmth seeping into your skin. Across the table, Mingyu sits, his handsome face drawn, shadows dancing beneath his eyes signs of sleepless nights spent preparing, rehearsing, and performing for a world that adores him. You can almost hear the faint echo of his heartbeat beneath the surface, a reminder of the connection you still share, yet it feels so tenuous, like a thread threatening to unravel at the slightest tug. As he recounts the glories of his latest performance, your heart sinks under the weight of his words, realizing you have become a spectator in the spectacular show of his life.

You find yourself fighting back tears, envisioning the life he deserves one filled with applause, adoration, and happiness. How could you keep him anchored in a world that demands his every ounce of energy? You replay the thought, a vicious cycle, and as dawn arrives with a heavy heart, you know what you must do. In another world, perhaps this love could shine brighter, but in this reality, his star is meant to soar unhindered.

As you walk home, the city moves around you in a whirl of colors and noise, yet everything feels muted, as if the universe has momentarily detached itself from your reality. You can almost hear the cosmic clock ticking, a reminder that time is not on your side. The streets are alive, bustling with life, but inside, you’re crumbling an aching heart begging for solace in a world that refuses to stop for love.

That night, you craft a message a letter filled with words straight from your heart, each line dripped with sorrow and longing. “I am burning up a sun just to say goodbye,” you write, the phrase spilling into existence like an unbidden prayer. Each word feels like an ember, igniting memories of laughter and warmth, illuminating the darkness creeping into your heart. You express how much he means to you, how watching him flourish was your greatest joy, and yet, you can’t be the anchor weighing him down.

Mingyu deserves the world: the sparkling cities, the cheering fans, and the soothing whispers of love that accompany his rise to glory. The truth is brutal, an unwavering beam of light piercing through the haze of your emotions. You are destined to fade into the background, a fading echo in a symphony that no longer requires your note. This love, while beautiful, isn't enough to tether him to a life that entraps him, choking on commitments that pull him away from the very essence of what makes him happy.

That fateful night, you gather every ounce of courage you have left and send the letter. The weight of it leaves you breathless, a tidal wave of emotions crashing over you. How does one say goodbye to a piece of their heart? Hours feel like lifetimes as you await his response, the anticipation mingling with despair. An insistent flutter in your chest reminds you of the void he’ll leave behind, a chasm far grander and emptier than you imagine.

As dawn breaks, the light filtering softly through your window, you receive a reply. His words are a gentle touch, filled with the love and fondness you both share, yet beneath them, you can sense the sinking weight of understanding. “You were my sunshine, and now I must learn to live without it,” he writes. And in those lines, you see the reflection of his soul, echoing your feelings both utterly lost and exceedingly grateful for the love you once shared.

Time moves ever onward, carriages of yesterday slip into the past, leaving impressions on your heart but insisting that you continue. Your sorrow is real, aching deeply in your chest as you tread forward into a world without him. Yet, you understand the bittersweet nature of love sometimes it means letting go, allowing someone to blaze their path, even if it leaves you in shadows. As you walk through the remnants of what once was, you hold onto his memory, cherished yet painful a beautiful tapestry of love now transformed into a melody of goodbye.

(Sorry i felt Angsty)

“Don’t cry when the sun is gone, because the tears won’t let you see the stars”

[falling-violet-petals]

For the people who liked Jayce and Viktor I think you should read This is how you lose the time war they are literally exactly like Red and Blue being each other's beginning and end and finding each other in every version of reality across time and space

I can't believe more people aren't making the connection because I haven't been able to stop thinking about how similar they are to that novel since the end of act 2

Just to prove my point here's a quote from the book that has that same vibe of love in every universe that Viktor and Jayce have going on:

I want to be a body for you.

I want to chase you, find you, I want to be eluded and teased and adored; I want to be defeated and victorious—I want you to cut me, sharpen me. I want to drink tea beside you in ten years or a thousand. Flowers grow far away on a planet they’ll call Cephalus, and these flowers bloom once a century, when the living star and its black-hole binary enter conjunction.I want to fix you a bouquet of them, gathered across eight hundred thousand years, so you can draw our whole engagement in a single breath, all the ages we’ve shaped together.

[satureja13]

None of Rubyn's many antennas and devices at Mos Verdantis was able to establish a connection to the Boys deep in space. She was so worried. But at least she could track the ship. Great A'Tuin was still on her designated route to Batuu. But the ship flies on autopilot, so that doesn't tell her anything about the wellbeing of the Boys...

It's Albaleyh's ship, so Rubyn decided to call her. Maybe she has an idea.

Not the best time for a call, though. Albaleyh is stressed beyond measure. She'd been sent on another diplomatic mission and had to take Seon Mi and Joon Gi with her. The kids are depressed more than ever because aside from their father being captured and taken from them, their beloved pet went missing a while ago.

So when Rubyn's call came in, she was just trying to get B.D's kids to eat, which they refused... as so often. Albaleyh really hopes these are some good news for once...

She went over to answer Rubyn's call. Albaleyh: "Please tell me they found him!"

Rubyn: "Eh... not - yet. How are you doing? Are the kids ok so far?"

Albaleyh told Rubyn about their misery. Albaleyh: "I don't know what to do anmore. They are acting so weird." Rubyn: "Weirder than when they planned to steal that TIE Fighter? Or when they helped repairing B.D's shuttle? Or when they tried to get the password from the First Order for the Gas Platform?" Albaleyh huffed a laugh, even though she doesn't feel like laughing: "They'd been always weird, huh? Like their father. Ach, I miss him nevertheless. But they are so quiet. At the moment, they are reading!"

Rubyn: "Oh no... I will tell the Boys to double their efforts. When I'm able to reach them again, that is. Say, do you have any idea what to do when the communication system of a... eh ... big ship is - kind of broken?" Albaleyh sighed: "A big ship like Great A'Tuin? You've lost contact to them?" Rubyn: "Don't worry. Great A'Tuin is still on her way. Just thought..." Rubyn told Albaleyh in which sector the Boys currently are. Albaleyh put Rubyn on hold and checked the whereabouts of her contacts. Albaleyh: "Rubyn? Mr Kim is near them. I'll send him over to check on them." Rubyn: "Oh my, thank you! I'm sure they are fine and they are going to bring him back, hm?" Albaleyh wasn't so sure. Why had she agreed to this crazy mission?What could those Boys do what she couldn't? She knew that's not fair to them. Her diplomatic hands are tied, she can do nothing for B.D.

She went over to the kids. Seon Mi missed her dad - and now their pet too. She was crying again. Joon Gi: "Is he dead?" Albaleyh sighed, there was no use lying to them: "Ach, no. But the possibilities of rescuing him just furter decreased. I never should have trusted Rubyn with those Boys. How are they supposed to bring your father back when they have no experience, never been at a space ship? They can't even deal with a broken communication device..."

Joon Gi looked at his sister: "Never tell me the odds. He will come back." Albaleyh just wished they acted more like other kids. She never knows how to deal with them - or how to comfort them. And she wished they'd watch less Star Wars movies...

'Sounds of laughter shades of life are ringing Through my open ears inciting and inviting me Limitless undying love which shines around me like a million suns It calls me on and on across the universe

Jai guru deva, om Nothing's gonna change my world'

The Beatles - Across the Universe

From the Beginning 🔱 Underwater Love 🔱 Latest

Current Chapter: starts ▶️ here Last Chapter: 'Here comes the Sun' from the beginning ▶️ here

📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 23-29

And if you want to read more about Albaleyh, B.D and their odyssey through space, their story starts -> here

[just-a-carrot]

reunion 💕

[stil-lindigo]

ashes to ashes.

a short comic about the day Ash was born.

Ash's story

Red and Wolf's story

notes:

--

all my other comics

store

[ruvviks]

All That's Left follows two journalists and their friends in post-apocalyptic United States as they travel from the fallen east coast megalopolis Opportunity back to Los Angeles, crossing through a harsh wasteland overrun with zombies— only to find out that there is a lot more life left than what the protected cities want them to believe. On their journey they meet dozens of people living their lives as peaceful as possible away from military forces, corporations, and corrupt governments; and they learn that the same mutated ghouls that took down Opportunity are spreading rapidly through the country, destroying everything in their path. Will this finally be the end of the world as we know it?

taglist (opt in/out)

@shellibisshe, @florbelles, @ncytiri, @hibernationsuit, @stars-of-the-heart;

@vvanessaives, @katsigian, @radioactiveshitstorm, @estevnys, @adelaidedrubman;

@celticwoman, @rindemption, @carlosoliveiraa, @noirapocalypto, @dickytwister;

@killerspinal, @euryalex, @ri-a-rose, @velocitic, @thedeadthree

[mispatchedgreens]

drift compatible bitches bc like knows like

[raiiny-bay]

before & after :-)

[to-proudly-go]

Star Wars has Force dyads and Star Trek has t'hy'la

Both concepts make me wanna take someone by the shoulders and shake them into oblivion if only to make them understand how I feel about soulmates

[yeonbam]

the way I have every single tag about lgief muted everywhere since the evening... first because I didn't want to get spoilt before finishing... now I don't have the heart to unmute and see them again lest I go through it in a way worse than I am right now... you'd think it's a bad ending with the way I'm acting but it's BECAUSE it wasn't a bad ending. it's because it was the perfect possible ending Ever.