#;; measuring the distance up | not safe

[feminist-space]

World Health Organization

MEDIA ADVISORY

NEW: COVID19 variant of interest JN.1

Geneva, 19 December 2023 -- Due to its rapidly increasing spread, WHO is classifying the variant JN.1 as a separate variant of interest (VOl) from the parent lineage BA.2.86. It was previously classified as VOl as part of BA.2.86 sublineages.

WHO advises people to take measures to prevent infections and severe disease using all available tools. These include:

-Wear a mask when in crowded, enclosed, or poorly ventilated areas, and keep a safe distance from others, as feasible

-Improve ventilation

-Practise respiratory etiquette - covering coughs and sneezes

-Clean your hands regularly

-Stay up to date with vaccinations against COVID-19 and influenza, especially if you are at high risk for severe disease

-Stay home if you are sick

-Get tested if you have symptoms, or if you might have been exposed to someone with COVID-19 or influenza

For health workers and health facilities, WHO advises:

-Universal masking in health facilities, as well as appropriate masking, respirators and other PPE for health workers caring for suspected and confirmed COVID-19 patients.

-Improve ventilation in health facilities

Image also has alt text embedded.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Wrongful Imprisonment

Male Alpha Yandere Prisoner x Omega Male Reader CW: Noncon, imprisonment, prison setting, knotting, mating cycles, a/b/o, rut/heat, knotting, size difference, ass eaten like it's groceries, general yandere behavior Word Count: 2k (Sorry this took so long.)

You never thought you would find yourself in prison. But there you were. Locked away in a minimum security facility.

You were innocent. When your home was raided you had no idea there were drugs there. Your boyfriend at the time had put all the blame on you to escape punishment.

What's worse was that you were an omega sentenced to a mixed facility full of alphas. Since male omegas were so rare no one bothered to make separate facilities for them.

They forcefully drugged away your heats to the best of their ability but the meds had side effects on your mood and gave you dizzy spells. And they weren't perfect. Even without a heat a faint scent of omega peaked through. During heats it was a bit more pronounced.

To some of the alphas who had been there for years it was enough to get their interest. And they were not men whose interest you wanted.

It was terrifying. The cells had no doors so you were in constant fear that you'd wake up with a rapist over you.

The guards were no help. You did your best to avoid all of the alphas of ill intent for as long as you could manage it, but one time you were cornered.

They had followed you in from the yard and crept up behind you. You flailed, scratched, and bit but they didn't take your struggles well and beat you until you stopped fighting.

You could hear them snickering as one slammed his knee into your gut before giving you two brutal punches to the face. You doubled over in pain, your nose bloody and tears cascading down your swollen face.

"Just be a good cock sleeve and stay still"

You felt your pants being yanked down to your knees.

"Look at how tight it's pussy is!"

You prepared for the worst, unable to eek out any pleas over your ragged sobs of hurt and fear.

But the worst never happened. Instead you heard growling followed by hisses and cries of pain.

Your pants were pulled up and you were helped onto your shaky feet.

In front of you stood a sweaty mountain of a man. He was about your age. Tan skin and red hair. All muscle. Probably spent every free moment lifting weights.

Which wasn't really true. Lately he also spent a lot of time watching you from a distance. Trying to get to know the one who's scent called to him so strongly despite the suppressants.

"Th-tha-th-" You tried to mutter a thanks, but your assault and near rate had sent you into a full panic attack.

"Shhh, don't try to talk. It's okay."

His green eyes stared into yours as he inspected your facial injuries. Nothing was broken.

He gently led you back to his doorless cell. The cells had a lot of traffic. You were a bit nervous but you were more scared to be alone and if he had wanted to hurt you he could have.

At least, that's what you had thought. Though you were completely unaware of how badly he wanted to bend you over and fill your body full of his seed. Unlike the brutes from before though he at least wanted you to moan and cling to him while he did it.

He introduced himself and you managed to return the courtesy once your sobs had lessened.

His name was Lance.

And over the months you spent in prison the two of you had become very close.

He kept you within his sight at all times and made sure you were safe. The two of you even managed to have it arranged where you could share the same cell so he could protect you at night and prevent you from getting a bad roommate.

Lance also rubbed all your clothes every morning on him so they had his scent to keep you safe.

The alpha even had the idea to give you a claiming bite just to make sure no one would try anything.

You allowed him to do so, you didn't think it meant anything. In fact, he had reassured you that it hadn't. It was just another measure to protect you.

Of course that wasn't how the alpha saw it at all. Even though he hadn't bed you he considered you his mate. And really, if anything, the fact you were so naïve about it only proved that he was taking the correct course of action.

You were too trusting and soft. That's how you had ended up there in the first place. That's why those vermin tried to get their unworthy hands on you.

You were his mate. Even if you didn't know it yet. You needed him.

And he needed you too. Your scent and personality drove him to keep you safe. So kind. A perfect mate for him. You were the only light in his otherwise miserable existence. To say that you were as essential as oxygen to him would be an understatement.

And after he saved you from those lesser alphas his instincts screamed that he owned you. He had won you in a physical contest.

The alpha just had to calm himself down and be patient. He would get you gradually. He was confident he was almost there.

Until you got the news that you were being released early because new evidence had come to light.

Lance feigned joy at the news.

"I am glad... a place like this really isn't for a person like you..."

"Yeah! And now I won't have to be such a burden to you anymore either! Thanks for helping me so much Lance, you're a great friend. I'll miss you."

Inwardly Lance wanted to go on a rampage. His mate was being taken away from him! He wouldn't be able to protect you. Someone might try to hurt you and touch you with hands unworthy of your skin.

The mere thought filled him with unbridled anger.

Lance knew what he had to do.

/////////

It had been just a couple months since your release and you were adjusting about as well as could be expected for someone in your situation.

You had been money from a settlement for being falsely imprisoned so finances weren't an issue. But you had no friends on the outside anymore. You had nothing to do.

And the ptsd from over a year of living like an animal was immense.

The hardest thing to adjust to, at least physically, was no longer being on industrial strength suppressants. And the very strong heats that accompanied that change.

It was during one such extreme heat that Lance broke out of prison and was making his way up the hill right towards your secluded home. He could smell you from far off.

He was in rut. He had not seen his omega in months. And he could smell your heat.

The alpha was coming for you... and very soon... he would be cumming in you.

When he came upon your home he noticed the window was open. You were so careless! Just letting your damn heat scent drift out and attract any piece of shit alpha right to your open window!! You were really fucking lucky you had such a dedicated mate like him though. So loyal that he broke through prison to take care of you.

He watched you for a minute through your open window. Poor little omega. Writhing in your empty nest. No alpha scent to soothe you. Your nude form hot and sweaty, jerking your cock and bucking your hips fervently, a puddle of slick staining your blankets. And the smell was insane, practically screaming for someone to slide in you.

But fate had provided you with a strong lover that was going to fuck all your frustrations right away.

As he stepped through your window your eyes snapped to him immediately, his musky smell grabbing your attention. “L-lance? B-but…”

“I got out for you. Now I can help you and we can be together.” His voice was low and raspy. Almost animalistic.

You recoiled in fear of him and fell out of your bed.

Lance was hurt that his precious lover was scared of him, but he understood. Past lovrs had hurt you and other alphas had tried to rape you very violently. But that’s not what he would do. He was going to keep you safe. Take care of your needs.

“You n-need to leave Lance.”

It was so hard to think clearly. Your body was on fire and his smell was so comforting even though you didn’t want his knot in you. He was still an attractive alpha who you had been close to and your body wanted to be closer. And he could smell it.

“No. I need to breed my husband.”

“Lance, y-you’re not my-”

He stood over you and picked you up easily, putting you back into your nest. He knelt beside it so that his head was right by your ass that was hanging off. He positioned your legs on his shoulders and inhaled deeply.

The scent you were giving off was too captivating, especially there, he could no longer even process your words. He tenderly nuzzled his nose beneath your balls, drinking in the scent and kissing each of your nuts gently before focusing his attention on your needy, slick-leaking hole.

He stared at it in awe for a moment, like a dragon appraising his most precious treasure.

Lance slid his tongue right in and began wriggling it to get at every inch he could reach, reveling in the needy sounds you made between your flustered protests. He kissed it and removed his lips, a small string of drool and slick briefly connecting your hole with his lips.

The alpha then flipped you on to your belly and climbed into the nest with you after discarding his pants and underwear, he took off his sweaty shirt and laid it under your head so you could enjoy his scent while he bred you. He put your head down and kept your ass up. You would have protested, but you couldn’t stay in your right mind any longer.

Not after the tongue fucking he had given you, not with his scent so concentrated with your face pressed into it.

You gripped his shirt and pressed it closer to you, trying to inhale the musk as much as you possibly could. His heart leapt at the sight of it all. His little omega was presenting so nicely for him all while drowning so willingly in his smell.

He gripped your hips firmly, but still careful not to hurt you as he sank his cock into you deeply.

Lance gasped as the wet heat engulfed his entire length. You fit over him so well. There was not a fraction of a doubt in his mind, you were made just for him.

You moaned and drooled into the shirt your loving mate had provided as his flesh smacked against yours. Faster and faster he slammed into you with your slutty noises driving him on until his knot swelled and his cum was pumped into you.

The alpha renewed that claiming bite he had given you as the two of you became tied together and while licking your fresh wound he lightly humped into you until you came hard as well. He caged your body with his and held you tightly to him as you both panted and waited for the knot to go down.

As your mind temporarily cleared you were aware that this was not something you wanted.

But it wasn’t something that you could fight either.

After everything you had been through you were still just a prisoner.

[moonstruckme]

hi, loveyy. if you'd like, would you write for reader x dr!remus where she's really sick and tries to hide it from him so he doesn't worry?

Thanks for requesting!

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

Remus keeps your apartment torturously cold. Normally you don’t mind it, but today you’re achy enough without the chill. The first thing you do when you get home is crank up the thermostat, then take a steamy shower and start warming the kettle. Proactive measures. 

You’re taking better care of yourself than you possibly ever have, all to the end of eluding your boyfriend. 

When Remus comes home, you’re sitting on the couch in your cozies waiting for your thoroughly honeyed tea to cool. You’re quick to remove the warm cloth from your sinuses before he can see. You make sure your throat is clear before you speak. 

“Hi, how was work?” 

“Swamped.” Remus bends over the back of the couch to kiss your hair. “Everyone has the flu, strep, or both. Every year, no one gets their flu jabs, and every year they’re shocked when they catch it.” He comes to sit by you, smiling tiredly. “I’d want to throttle all of them if they weren’t already so miserable.” 

It’s an effort to keep your shame from showing as you return his smile. Remus starts to lean toward you, but you back away, keeping your mouth a safe distance from his. 

At his questioning look, you say feebly, “You smell like your office.” 

He lets out a breath of laughter but moves away. “Alright. I’ll change.” 

You send him a guilty look as he goes that he doesn’t know the half of, but Remus only smiles indulgently back at you. 

From down the hall, you hear, “Dovey, did you change the thermostat?” 

Shit, you forgot to switch it back. 

“Yeah, sorry. I was chilly when I got home.” 

“It’s fine. Do you…want me to leave it like this? It’s set fairly high.” 

“Um…” Honestly, yes. “That’s okay. I’m good now, you can set it back.” 

“Alright.” 

You hear the ticks of the thermostat being turned down, and you grab a throw from across the back of the couch, wrapping it tightly around your shoulders. 

“Do you want some tea?” you ask him after a minute. “I’ve just made myself a cup.” 

“That’s okay, sweetheart, stay where you are.” Remus emerges from the bedroom in his own house clothes, looking painfully snuggly. He heads for the kitchen. “You left the honey out. Do you still need it?” 

You wince. “No, I’m alright.” 

When Remus rejoins you in the sitting room, you pretend to be busy with your book. He sits back in his spot, and you cozy up to him before he can try to kiss you again, your head on his shoulder. 

“Are you still cold?” he asks, adjusting the throw over you. 

You hum a lie. 

Remus seems satisfied with that. He tucks you under an arm and picks up his own book. 

You’re a few pages in when your nose starts to tickle. You try to breathe through it, hoping it will go away, but it’s no use. You’re hardly able to pinch your nose shut before a sneeze pitches out of you, violent and head-throbbing. 

“Bless you.” Remus rubs your back. “You okay?” 

You sniffle. “Yeah. Sorry.” 

“No reason to be sorry, lovely girl,” he chides gently. You feel his lips touch down on your head. 

You soak up the comfort like warmth on a wintry day. Miraculously, Remus doesn’t question you any further, and eventually you lay your head back on his shoulder. You flip pages without truly reading them, your mind fuzzy and your body exhausted, until your eyes grow heavy and you forget to flip them at all. At some point, Remus’ head tilts so it’s resting atop yours. When he starts massaging the back of your neck, it feels so nice you don’t even really register it. 

“Dove,” he murmurs. 

You hum in pleased, half-asleep acknowledgement. 

“You need to stay home from work tomorrow, sweet girl.” 

You blink your eyes open slowly. Pick your head up off Remus’ shoulder, and look at him in confusion. “What?”

He looks back at you patiently. “Your fever’s gotten worse, and you’re contagious. It’s not good for you or anyone if you go in.” 

“But…” Your brow furrows. You feel like you’ve missed a chapter. “How did you know?” 

Remus gives you an amused look. “I see sick people all day long. You thought I wouldn’t notice?” You frown. He chuckles and cups your face in his hand, thumbing over your cheek consolingly. “You were clearing your throat all evening yesterday. But it didn’t seem bad yet, and you didn’t seem to want to tell me, so…” He shrugs. “But now it’s time to let me take care of you, okay?” 

You rub your lips together. You think you’re waiting for him to be angry with you, but your boyfriend seems only sympathetic. And a bit smug. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble. “I didn’t wanna be another thing for you to deal with.” 

“Oh, hush.” Remus tsks, shifting so he can wrap his arms around you. “I like dealing with you, have I not been clear about that?” 

“You don’t want to throttle me because I’m another idiot who didn’t get the flu jab?” 

You feel the reverberations of his quiet chuckle in his chest. “First of all, I said I would want to throttle them. I’m a doctor, I can’t just be contemplating throttling my patients. And no, sweetheart.” He slips his hand from your shoulder down the length of your back, rubbing through your blanket. “I don’t think that about you. I wish you’d gotten it, but there’s nothing to be done now. You’re sick, and I only want to look after you.” 

The onslaught of tenderness melts you. You let your face slip down to his shoulder, nose pushing into his neck. “My head hurts,” you mumble. 

“Awe, dovey.” Remus brings his other hand to your nape, massaging the achy muscles there again. “Have you had paracetamol since you’ve been home?” 

You shake your head mutely. 

“I’ll get you some in a minute, then. And we can have soup for dinner, yeah?” 

“Yeah, thanks.” You feel frighteningly teary. “Will you stay here for a while with me first, though? Please?”

Remus’ lips press softly to your forehead. “Sure, of course.” 

[darkbluekies]

The ocs reactions to darling vomiting

Warnings: throwing up, fingers down ones throat, mentions of alcohol,

Silas:

He's the type to hold your hair if you have it long enough for it to be a bother. Brings you to the bathroom and crouches down behind you to hold your hair/you up. Isn't fazed about it the slightest. He has seen — done — worse things.

"Good girl/boy, get it all out. You'll feel much better afterwards. Hold my hand, squeeze it as hard as you want. You're safe with me, I'm not going anywhere."

Dr Kry:

He will not leave you alone until you are feeling better. If you are nauseous, he will find solutions, often leading to throwing up. He will help put two fingers down your throat if you're uncomfortable doing it yourself.

"It's safe, I promise. I am here the entire time. I wouldn't do anything that would harm you, would I? You trust me, don't you? If you throw up, you will feel better, trust me."

King Edmund:

He hates it. There can't be anything more disgusting than vomit. But he can't ditch you. And he certainly won't let anyone else hold your hair up, won't let anyone see you in such a vulnerable moment. His solution is to sit beside you on the floor and hold your hair, but with his back turned to the bucket and with a clothespin over his nose and eyes either closed or focused on anything in the distance.

"Yes, yes, I do feel bad for you, my love, i do. But I will throw up too if I see or smell it — fuck this is disgusting — but don't care about me. No, I'm not leaving! Keep on vomiting instead of whining."

Jerry:

This girl will hold your hair/hold you up, give you water, clean you up, and wipe your tears. These moments are the few ones where she is genuinely nice without any sarcastic remarks. She knows how absolutely naked one feels when throwing up and how scarring it feels in that moment. She will try to joke to comfort you.

"Lesson learned: you can't handle this much alcohol. Next time you should alter it with water. But damn babe, look how much your body holds. There's your lunch. What a waste of ten bucks on that pizza, huh? Just breathe, I'm here. I'll take care of you."

Hedwig:

If it had been anyone else, she would have been disgusted beyond measure. But since it is you, she will sit beside you and not let anyone see you, acting like a hawk. If anyone does see you, she will shout for them to leave. Hedwig will shield you from everyone who happens to be nearby while holding your hair, cleaning you up, and feeding you water.

"I know it's disgusting, sweetheart, I know it tastes horrible. You're doing great. You're getting rid of whatever is making you feel like this. It's okay, when you're done, I will get you a mint. You don't need to feel bad, I will always be here."

[faebled-stories]

Yours Forever

Kinkvember Day 13: Werewolf

LOONA/Loossemble Son Hyeju x Werewolf Male Reader

7.4k words

The week leading up to the full moon had been unbearable. You’d begun to pull away, slipping from Hyeju’s touch, retreating further with each passing day. Though your transformations were a rhythm she had come to understand, something was unmistakably different this time—something raw and electrifying that charged the air between you.

She sensed it immediately, an undercurrent of tension replacing the warmth she was used to. Your once-welcoming presence had become guarded, your eyes avoiding hers, and a strange energy bristled beneath your skin. You’d warned her of this side of yourself, the primal force that awakened with the waxing moon. She’d always honored the boundary, letting you slip into the woods each month for the transformation, a small price to pay for the security it brought to you both.

But this was different. This wasn’t just about the full moon or keeping her safe. You weren’t merely preparing for the change; you were holding something back, and the strain of it was unmistakable. Each touch was brief, your hand pulling away as if her warmth stung, your breaths turning sharp when she was near. She tried to reach for you, but each time felt like touching a live wire. A chill settled into her bones, and a deeper realization struck: this wasn’t just you preparing to leave. You were resisting something powerful, something only she seemed to provoke.

On the first night, she watched you by the window, staring into the dense shadows of the forest. You stood there, rigid, your shoulders pulled taut as though braced for release. Even from across the room, she could feel the tension rolling off you, saw the way your hands clenched, fingers twitching as if resisting the instinct to reach for her. When you finally slipped into bed, you lay at the edge, as though afraid even a brush of her skin might unravel whatever control you had left. Sleep was distant for her that night as she lay beside you, feeling each measured breath, each silent struggle that kept you tethered.

By the second day, the strain had seeped into every gesture, every look. At breakfast, you barely touched your food, gaze distant, lost somewhere she couldn’t reach. Hyeju attempted to bridge the growing gap with gentle conversation, offering smiles she knew would normally soften you. But all she received were nods, one-word responses, your fists clenched each time she leaned in, as if proximity to her had become an unbearable temptation. The quiet intimacy that usually marked your mornings was gone, replaced by a silence that felt like an ever-widening chasm.

On the third day, pretense vanished altogether. You weren’t just keeping your distance; you were withdrawing from her entirely, avoiding her gaze, jaw set so tight that the veins in your neck stood out. The scent she associated with you was sharper now, tinged with something wild and unrestrained. Whenever she entered the room, she felt your intense gaze upon her—a look that lingered, dark and unblinking, before you quickly turned away. Your eyes held a ferocity that unsettled her even as it stirred something deep within, a mixture of unease and instinctive thrill. The restraint you fought against became tangible, pressing in like a thunderstorm about to break.

The fourth night brought restlessness. Once again, you stood by the window, but this time you began to pace, muscles shifting under your skin with each jerky movement, as though barely contained by the human form you wore. The moon was still waxing, yet its influence radiated through every line of your body, in the rise and fall of your labored breaths. Hyeju watched from the bed, heart pounding, feeling a mix of concern and something nameless, like an ache that mirrored the primal energy in you. Each step you took held a rawness that threatened to unleash, your form barely holding back a force that loomed just beneath the surface.

Finally, in a voice rough and edged with strain, you muttered, “I need to leave soon.”

The words were clipped, barely a whisper, but they landed heavily.

“You usually wait until the day of,” she replied, her voice laced with concern.

“It’s… different this time,” you answered, eyes fixed on the floor, unable or unwilling to meet her gaze. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

The fifth day arrived like a storm, thick with tension that clung to the air. Every movement she made felt monitored, her presence tracked by your wary gaze. When you did speak, your voice was hoarse, each word scraping through clenched teeth. Your movements lost all their usual grace; you paced with a sharp, restless energy, each step more animalistic than human. When she came close, she felt you flinch. For the first time, there was no warmth in your gaze—only a restrained, urgent focus, as though holding yourself back from a force that could consume you both. The lines of your body, the clench of your fists, every taut muscle told of a fierce restraint that went against every primal instinct you harbored.

By the sixth day, it was undeniable: you weren’t just avoiding her, you were fighting the pull between you with every fiber of your being. The desire in you was palpable, like an electric charge, a force barely controlled, simmering under the surface. Your gaze had taken on a new intensity, a dark hunger that sent a shiver down her spine. When she neared, your breaths quickened, nostrils flaring as though scenting her, tracking her presence with instincts heightened by the looming transformation. Yet even as the tension between you grew unbearable, you held yourself back, jaw clenched, fingers digging into your palms as though this restraint was the only thing tethering you to reason.

Then came the seventh day, the full moon hovering on the horizon. Your skin was feverish, your eyes blazing with a golden light that felt more beast than human. Every muscle in your body seemed wound tight, thrumming with restless energy, and staying near her had become an ordeal. You took to the woods, vanishing into the night for long runs, returning each time drenched in sweat, breath labored, muscles quaking as though you had wrestled an invisible enemy. Yet each return left your gaze fiercer, that golden light burning brighter with each passing hour.

Hyeju watched, heart aching, understanding the battle raging within you yet feeling helpless. She could only hope that as the full moon rose and the transformation overtook you, the distance you’d forced between you would be enough to keep her safe from the powerful, forbidden pull that simmered just beneath your skin.

-----

That evening, you stood before the fireplace, fists clenched so tightly that your knuckles blanched, nails biting into your palms. The firelight flickered, casting shadows that danced across your face, illuminating the sharp lines of your jaw and the fierce tension in your eyes—a storm of unspoken fears and desires boiling just beneath the surface. The warmth of the flames did little to ease the chill coursing through you; if anything, it seemed to amplify the turmoil that had been building inside, the mounting pressure of days spent in silence. Every crackle of the fire felt like a countdown, pushing you closer to the inevitable moment when you would have to speak. The truth lay on your tongue, heavy and bitter, an admission that you could scarcely bear to voice.

At last, the silence fractured, your words tearing through the stillness. “I’m leaving tomorrow.” The sentence was low but thunderous, slicing through the quiet with a brutal finality. It hung in the air, irreversible, a single statement that felt like it would drive Hyeju further away than ever.

Her shock was instant. Hyeju’s eyes widened, her soft expression hardening into one of quiet horror as she took a step toward you, her gaze unwavering yet clouded with worry and confusion. “You don’t have to,” she whispered, her voice barely audible yet carrying an unmistakable plea. She edged closer, her look gentle but resolute. “You always come back to me—”

“No.” The word escaped you in a snarl, cutting through her words with a fierce finality. The harshness of your tone froze her mid-step, a flash of restrained power in your gaze halting her as her lips parted in unspoken confusion. “You don’t understand,” you continued, your voice tight, each word strained under the weight of what you’d been hiding. “This time, I won’t be able to control myself.”

A long, tense silence settled between you. Hyeju’s resolve faltered only slightly before her voice returned, low and unwavering, layered with quiet confidence. “But I trust you.” She moved closer, her gaze searching your face, reading every fracture in the guarded mask you’d constructed. Her scent, the soft, familiar fragrance that usually grounded you, now fueled the fire within, making each breath an exquisite torment. Every inhalation felt like stoking a flame that was already blazing out of control, testing the limits of restraint you’d desperately tried to uphold.

For a moment, your hardened resolve wavered, a flicker of vulnerability breaking through before you forced yourself back into control. “You don’t know what you’re asking,” you said, voice rough and barely steady under the strain. Admitting even that much felt like surrender, a risk too great to take. But here you were, standing at the edge, teetering between revelation and restraint.

Hyeju reached out then, her fingers grazing your forearm with a touch so light it was almost unbearable, a grounding presence that sent a wave of conflicting sensations through you—longing and fear, lust and caution. Her hand was gentle, a soft anchor amid the chaos roaring inside you, yet exactly what you knew you couldn’t bear. “I’m not afraid of you,” she murmured, her voice steady, cutting through the wild, tangled thoughts spiraling in your mind.

Her words were a balm and a curse, a calm certainty that felt like fire in your veins, heating the tension already simmering inside. Every nerve in your body screamed for release, and her unwavering belief in you only made it harder to resist. Piece by piece, you could feel yourself unraveling in her presence. “Hyeju…” you rasped, voice raw and pleading, barely holding yourself together. The confession clawed its way out of you, forced from the depths of your restraint. “I’m in heat,” you admitted, the words nearly breaking under their own weight. “Your scent… it’s driving me mad.”

At this, Hyeju’s gaze softened, her expression turning calm and understanding, as though every fleeting look, every tense gesture had clicked into place. She held your gaze, a mix of compassion and strength, her voice dropping to a soft, steady murmur. “Then let me come with you.” Her words were gentle yet unyielding, carrying a determination that left no room for argument. “You don’t have to face this alone. Don’t push me away.”

A surge of panic flashed through you, and you shook your head, sharp and decisive, knowing the risk was too great. “No,” you replied, voice rough and laden with unspoken fear. “I could hurt you. It’s not safe.”

But Hyeju’s response was quiet and certain, her trust in you unshakeable. “You won’t,” she insisted, her conviction a solid, unbreakable force. “I know you. I trust you.”

Her words shattered something within you, dissolving the last of the restraint you’d clung to, leaving you exposed, every breath dragging against the strain in your chest. She was close—too close—and every instinct in you waged a war to keep control. You opened your mouth, prepared to argue, to plead with her to understand the danger she tempted. But before you could, she placed her hand firmly against your chest, her touch a grounding warmth that silenced you. “I’m coming with you,” she declared, her gaze resolute. “I’m not letting you face this alone.”

For a long, breathless moment, you stared down at her, caught between the fierce need to protect her and the unbearable, searing desire that had been clawing at you all week. Her hand on your chest was steady, her eyes filled with an unbreakable belief in you that seemed to defy every fear and instinct within. The silence between you was thick, weighted with her conviction and your desperate restraint.

“No… Hyeju,” you managed, voice thick with desperation, as you struggled to maintain control. “You don’t get it… I can’t…” Each word was dragged from you, heavy with fear and frustration. Meeting her gaze one last time, you saw the strength in her eyes, a silent insistence that you stay. It was almost too much. “Don’t. Follow. Me.” Each word was deliberate, a plea and a command wrapped in a last-ditch attempt to shield her from the force that loomed just beneath the surface. With a final, tortured look, you turned and walked out, each step a battle against your own instincts, leaving her standing alone, the silence in your absence cutting deep, stretching like an open wound.

-----

But as the moon rose higher that night, its light spilling through her window, Hyeju found herself lying awake, your words reverberating through her mind, gnawing at her heart. She could feel the pull to follow you, a force she couldn’t quite resist, and as the night deepened, the thought solidified within her. Ignoring the warning that still echoed in her mind, she packed a small bag, slipping quietly into the forest, following the familiar path to your secluded cabin deep within the trees.

The forest was shrouded in darkness, yet the silver light of the moon cast an eerie glow over her path, illuminating the twisting roots and gnarled branches, their shadows stretching long and foreboding. Her heart raced as she neared the cabin, each step echoing with the unspoken fear and resolve that pushed her forward. When she arrived, the air around the cabin was thick, heavy with a tension she could feel humming in her very bones, a force that pulsed and throbbed like a heartbeat. She could feel you on the other side of the door, a presence more powerful than she had ever sensed.

The door was barricaded, as she had expected, but she raised her hand and knocked gently, the sound seeming almost insignificant against the thick silence of the night. She waited, heart pounding, straining to hear any response, but was met only with the quiet rustle of leaves and the occasional distant howl. Summoning her courage, she knocked again, louder this time, and after a long, charged silence, she heard it—the soft, hesitant sound of the lock being turned, of the door slowly opening.

You stood in the doorway, your golden eyes already glowing with an intensity that nearly took her breath away. Every inch of you was taut with tension, muscles flexed beneath the skin, your chest heaving with deep, ragged breaths as though you were barely containing the power thrumming inside. The air was thick, almost stifling with the electric charge of restrained ferocity. She could see the struggle etched into every line of your face, the battle raging beneath the surface as you fought to hold back the wildness that the full moon had awakened.

Hyeju took a slow step forward, eyes fixed on you, feeling the pull of something deeper than words—a call to stand by your side, come what may. She knew the danger, yet her resolve was unbreakable. In that charged silence, you both stood on the edge, caught between fear and desire, each heartbeat echoing like thunder, as if the forest itself was holding its breath.

“Hyeju,” you rasped, your voice raw and tangled with confusion. “What are you doing here? It’s not safe. You shouldn’t be—”

“I came to be with you,” she interrupted, stepping into the cabin, her gaze meeting yours with unwavering determination. “I know what’s happening. I’m not scared.”

You took a step back, running a hand through your hair in frustration, muscles twitching as though each movement was a battle to stay in control. “You really don’t understand,” you growled, voice thick with barely restrained fury. “I won’t be able to stop myself. The full moon, the heat... your scent is driving me insane. I can’t—”

But she cut you off with a steady look, her fingers reaching up to caress your bare chest. The gentle circles she traced sent shivers through you, her soft touch both comforting and excruciating. Her hands were confident, each touch pushing you further toward the edge. “Hyeju,” you growled, voice now heavy with desperation, “I can’t... You don’t know what you’re doing.”

But she did. She knew exactly what she was doing. She was choosing to trust you, to be with you in this wild, vulnerable moment, and she wouldn’t let fear keep her away.

You stared at her, chest rising and falling with each labored breath, muscles trembling with the strain of resisting the instincts clawing at you. “I don't want to hurt you” you whispered, voice hoarse, filled with the weight of the battle raging inside.

“It’s okay, baby” she whispered, stepping closer until her bare skin brushed against yours. “I want this. I want you to be yourself—no more holding back. Let your desires come through.”

The words hit you like a spark to dry wood, and your body trembled, the force of her gaze enough to break your last shreds of restraint. The transformation you had been fighting surged to the surface, muscles tensing and shifting, claws extending, your skin stretched tight as you struggled to hold back even a fraction of the wildness she was calling forth. Your eyes, now fully golden, locked onto hers with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine.

“Hyeju… please,” you pleaded one last time, voice low, desperate. “You don’t want to see what happens.”

“I do,” she insisted, her voice steady despite the fierce energy radiating off you. “I trust you.”

Without breaking eye contact, Hyeju moved toward the bed, her movements slow, deliberate, each step filled with certainty. She began to undress, her eyes never leaving yours, her gaze filled with a quiet strength, inviting you to follow her, to trust her as she trusted you. You could see her body fully bared in front of you, vulnerable yet fearless, and the sight ignited something within you, a force you could no longer hold back.

Her clothes pooled on the floor, and in that moment, you surrendered completely to the instincts you had fought to keep buried.

On all fours, she slowly made her way onto the bed, crawling toward the headboard with a teasing, playful sway, each movement inviting and deliberate. Her bare cheeks moved with each shift, her skin glistening softly under the dim light. You watched, transfixed, your glowing yellow eyes taking in every detail, every inch of her body revealed to you, a sight that was almost too much to bear. Her arousal, prominent, was an irresistible draw, an open invitation that held you captive, stirring the wildness inside you as your last vestiges of control wavered.

Finally, reaching her destination at the headboard, she flipped onto her back, baring herself entirely to your gaze. Her eyes met yours, a steady, powerful look that contradicted her petite frame, and for a moment, despite the beast inside you, it was she who held the power. Her gaze, dark and full of lust, seemed to pierce through you, striking at the very core of your deepest, most carnal desires. Slowly, she spread her legs, releasing a sweet, intoxicating scent that fogged your mind, each breath pulling you deeper into a haze where human restraint faded and only the primal urges remained.

With slow, deliberate movements, she brought a hand down between her legs, her fingers brushing over her skin, and then, as if to taunt you further, she spread her folds open, her wetness shining under your gaze. Her eyes met yours again, confident and unwavering, drawing you in until it was as if nothing else existed in the world. You felt your humanity slipping, her scent clouding your mind, drowning every rational thought as your focus narrowed down to her alone. She was yours, yet every second of her teasing was pushing you closer to the edge, closer to the part of you you had tried so hard to keep at bay.

And then, something inside you snapped.

The transformation surged through you with a force that could no longer be resisted. You felt your body begin to change, your muscles tensing and expanding, bones shifting with an audible crack. A primal energy flooded your veins, erasing the last shreds of restraint. Hyeju’s confident gaze flickered as she watched, her breath catching as the reality of your transformation became undeniable. Your form grew, stretching until you towered over her, limbs thickening with muscle, hands morphing into powerful claws that extended toward the bed, grazing the sheets.

Her confidence wavered, her eyes widening as you loomed over her, now fully transformed. The human features she had come to love and trust were now overlaid with the raw, undeniable presence of the beast. Your face was wild, feral, golden eyes glowing with an intensity that pierced the dim room. Hyeju’s back pressed against the headboard as she took in the full expanse of your towering frame, a flicker of nervousness crossed her expression. Her heart pounded as she realized just how massive every part of you had become, how easily your form could overpower her.

As the last tendrils of the transformation wisped away from your body, the atmosphere in the small, dimly lit cabin thickened with an intense energy. Hyeju, who had stood witness to this spectacle, found her initial awe morphing into a gripping fear as she took in the full extent of your metamorphosis. Her eyes, previously alight with curiosity and anticipation, now widened with shock, tracing the daunting new size and form you had assumed.

Her reaction was palpable; her once firm stance of confidence, bolstered by the warmth of her affection and a dash of adventurous spirit, crumbled under the weight of your overwhelming presence. "W-wait... wait..." she stammered, her voice barely a whisper, trembling like a leaf in a storm. Her heart pounded against her ribcage, a frantic drumbeat that seemed to echo through the room, as she felt an icy chill spread through her, urging her to retreat.

Pressed against the ornate headboard of the bed, Hyeju made herself as small as possible, the plushness of the bed offering little comfort against the backdrop of her spiraling fear. Her breaths came in short, shallow gulps, each one a struggle as her mind grappled with the surreal reality before her. The sheets beneath her fingers turned into a lifeline, gripped so tightly that her knuckles drained of color, reflecting the starkness of her terror.

“I-I’m not sure… maybe… maybe I was wrong…” she murmured, her voice a tapestry of hesitation and self-doubt. The courage that had felt like a shield now seemed like a child's armor against a giant. Her body trembled, muscles tensing with the primal urge to flee, to escape this unforeseen turn of events.

The air was thick with tension until a low, guttural growl erupted from you, slicing through the silence like a blade. It was a sound that belonged to the beastly, the wild, and it jolted Hyeju from her paralyzing fear into a sharp, sudden alertness. Before she could process her next move, you moved with a fluid, predatory grace, your large hands seizing her thighs with a grip that was nearly crushing. The suddenness of your action elicited a gasp from her, her eyes stretching even wider, now not just with fear but with an intense mix of vulnerability and surprise.

Looming over her, your presence was an undeniable force, a raw power that left no room for resistance or escape. The heat from your body seemed to envelop her, the intensity of your gaze pinning her in place as effectively as your hands did her legs. Without another moment's delay, you thrust forward, the movement powerful and unyielding. A cry tore from Hyeju’s lips, sharp and echoing, a sound that was both a release and a plea, reverberating off the wooden walls of the cabin.

Hyeju's fingers clung to the fur of your shoulders, her nails digging in as she tried to steady herself against the overwhelming onslaught of sensations.

"No... no, wait!" she cried out, her voice wavering and thick with the strain of accommodating the sheer intensity of their lovemaking. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps, each one a desperate attempt to manage the overwhelming sensations that coursed through her.

Her body trembled, stretched beyond her limits as she struggled to accept the fullness that threatened to push her past her breaking point. Her muscles tensed, quivering with a mixture of anticipation and fear of the ecstasy that might consume her entirely. She felt every inch of him inside her, an overwhelming presence that seemed to redefine the boundaries of her own body.

Every thrust was a powerful, rhythmic surge that filled her so completely, so deeply, that she could barely process the onslaught of pleasure that threatened to shatter her mind. Each movement sent waves of sensation radiating from her core, making her toes curl and her back arch involuntarily. The room echoed with the sounds of their union — skin against fur, the muffled cries escaping her lips, and the low, guttural sounds from her partner, lost in their shared intensity.

Her fingers gripped your fur tightly, as if to anchor herself against the storm of feelings that threatened to sweep her away. Her mind, awash with endorphins, could only focus on the here and now, the relentless, intoxicating sensation of being filled and overwhelmed, pushing her closer to an edge where ecstasy and madness blurred into one.

Tears of intense pleasure and pain mingled at the corners of her eyes, her emotions as stretched as her physical form. In this moment, she was not just participating in an act of love, but was being redefined by it, her very essence quivering under the weight of such profound connection.

With each movement, Hyeju felt herself being pushed past her boundaries, past what she had thought herself capable of enduring. Yet, even as she felt herself nearing the edge, she could not deny the raw, visceral pleasure that coursed through her veins. It was as if every nerve ending in her body had been set alight.

Her breath came in ragged gasps, her chest heaving as you continued to drive deeper into her, pushing her beyond what she had thought possible. Her muscles clenched around you, her body's natural response to the overwhelming fullness, yet her resistance only seemed to fuel your intensity.

"I... I don't think I can..." she cried out, her voice a mixture of desperation and ecstasy, her words broken by another sharp gasp as you increased your pace. Each thrust was forceful, driving into her with an intensity that stole her breath away. Her fingers clutched at the sheets, knuckles whitening with the effort to maintain some semblance of control.

Your rhythm was relentless, pushing her towards an edge she wasn't sure she was ready to leap from. Her body quaked, not just from the physical exertion but from the overwhelming sensory overload. The room felt too small, the air too thick with the mixture of her perfume, your musk, and the heat of your bodies. Each movement sent a shockwave through her, her legs quivering, barely able to support the weight of your mutual desire.

Her mind teetered on the brink of sanity, the world narrowing down to the points where you were connected, where pleasure met pain in a dance as old as time. She felt every ridge, every pulse of you inside her, each sensation magnified by her heightened state. Her breath came in ragged sobs, tears of both release and overwhelming emotion flooding from her eyes.

But there was no stopping now. The primal force within you had taken complete control, each powerful motion fed by a desire so deep it felt inescapable. The beast within was in command, every muscle tense with the sheer force driving each thrust, each movement a testament to the ancient instinct that surged through your veins. Growls rumbled low and unrestrained from your throat, mingling with Hyeju’s gasps and whimpers, creating a discordant symphony of need and desperation. Your claws pressed against her skin, grazing lightly but enough to leave a faint mark, holding her steady as she writhed beneath you.

Her breath came in shallow, rapid bursts, each exhalation laced with soft pleas, her voice barely more than a whisper. “Please… I-I was wrong… it’s too much…” Her voice broke again, the words trailing off as the line between pleasure and pain blurred, each new wave of sensation pushing her further to the edge. 

Her scent, mingling with the fear and vulnerability, drove you further, igniting every primal instinct within as you gave in completely, the beast’s hunger fully unleashed. Hyeju’s whimpers filled the air, her body yielding even as her mind fought against the intensity, the boundary between her own resistance and surrender melting away as the night stretched on, her cries a helpless melody that fed the fire raging within you both.

Desperately, she tried to steady herself, palms pressing against your waist—not to stop you, but to brace herself, to somehow absorb the force of each powerful thrust that surged through her body. She knew, even as her body trembled beneath yours, that resisting you fully was impossible; you were in a state beyond reason, each motion primal, instinctual, and unstoppable.

Her hands found no purchase against your hips, her touch only seeming to stoke the fire in you, compelling you to drive even harder. Her voice, pleading and broken, filled the room, her cries reaching your ears but slipping past, your mind consumed by her presence, by the intoxicating scent of her that fueled the storm of instincts raging within you.

And then, just as the rhythm peaked, your head tipped back, and a howl tore from your throat, resonating through the cabin with a raw, wild force that sent a shiver down her spine. The sound was pure and primal, yet familiar, carrying within it an echo of something deeper—moments from before, the memories of who you were, of the tenderness that lived beneath your wild exterior.

In a flash, Hyeju saw you as you had been, in the quiet of so many nights spent wrapped in each other’s warmth. She remembered your laughter, the softness of your touch, the whispered secrets shared in the night. Even as she felt her body stretched and trembling beneath you, she realized that the man she loved was still there, deep within the beast, bound by love even in this fierce, unrestrained form.

As her body adjusted to the rhythm, her eyes rose to meet yours, locking onto the wild hunger there, golden and unbridled, yet somehow… familiar. In that gaze, she saw more than the beast—she saw the intensity of your need for her, a need so fierce it overwhelmed everything else. She could feel it, the love that transcended the primal instinct driving you; it was a force just as powerful, just as consuming. Her breath steadied as she held your gaze, feeling her own heartbeat slow and sync with yours as an undeniable truth dawned within her. She’d promised to love all of you, and now, in this moment, you were offering her every part of yourself, even the parts you had fought so hard to shield from her. This was you—all of you—and as she looked into the depths of your gaze, she felt her resolve deepen.

“This is him… this is all of him,” she whispered to herself, the words anchoring her in this reality, a reality where she wanted, needed, all of you. Her fear softened, melting away as her body began to accept you, her breath growing steady as she adapted to the fullness pressing into her.

The sharp discomfort ebbed into a new sensation, an electric pulse that coursed through her veins, intertwining pain with pleasure in a way that ignited something deep within her. Her hips lifted to meet yours, a tentative acceptance transforming into a fierce desire, her body yielding as she began to move with you, each thrust building a rhythm that brought her closer to you, closer to the unbridled passion she saw in your eyes.

“I’m yours, my love,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion and resolve, the words carrying a weight she knew you could feel. “I’m your mate.”

The words, quiet and simple, struck something within you. Her voice seemed to echo through the wild storm of your mind, her words bypassing the primal urge and reaching a place deeper, more vulnerable. Your body trembled, the hunger in your eyes intensifying, your movements becoming frantic, almost desperate. Growls tore from your throat, rough and uncontrolled, as the beast within you struggled against the sheer force of need pulling you toward her. Yet in that need was a softness, a desire to give her everything, to leave no part of yourself hidden.

And Hyeju, finally, was ready. She wanted all of it, wanted to be taken without reservation, her own need flaring up to meet yours. The initial pain dulled, replaced by a throbbing pleasure that grew with each powerful thrust, filling her completely in a way that left her gasping. She clung to you, her nails raking through your fur, holding you close as if to anchor herself in this wild storm. You were rough, your hands wrapping around her waist like a belt, lifting her small frame with each deep drive. Every thrust was strong, unrestrained, but she understood that this was your way of showing her how much you needed her, how much you had held back until now.

“I can take it… I can take you,” she moaned, her voice breathless and full of need, her body surrendering entirely as your rhythm took her to the edge, each thrust carrying her deeper into the whirlwind of ecstasy. And as her voice filled the space between you, you could feel her acceptance, her desire, her trust—trust in all of you, the man and the beast entwined. Her words fueled your movements, drawing out a depth of passion that you hadn’t known you were capable of, and together, in the rhythm that bound you, you found a unity, a shared surrender that transcended the boundaries of what you had been before.

Your growls deepened, your grip on her tightening as you pulled her closer, deeper. Your pace quickened, your breathing ragged as you neared the edge. Hyeju could feel it too—the tension in your body, the desperation in your movements. You were close.

As your thrusts became more frantic, Hyeju’s own pleasure surged. She arched her back, gasping your name as her body tightened around you, the overwhelming sensation pushing her closer and closer to the brink. She wasn’t just taking you anymore—she was lost in you.

“FUCK YES BABY, claim me, mark me, do everything to make me yours forever”

The air between you crackles with the intensity of the moment, charged with an almost visible energy that binds you both in its electrifying grip. Every breath, every inch of space, is alive with a current that flows from you to her and back again, an endless loop of energy and desire that leaves no room for doubt or hesitation. As your movements grow more intense, more purposeful, a primal need overtakes you—a raw, consuming force that drives you forward, until that last, powerful thrust carries both of you across an invisible threshold. It’s more than a joining; it’s an act that resonates on a level deeper than flesh, a physical and spiritual fusion that feels as though your very souls are entwined.

Hyeju’s body responds instinctively, her breath catching in her throat as she feels herself filled completely, claimed in a way that goes beyond the physical. She can feel you within her not only in her body but in her very core, touching a place so deep it feels like you’re etching yourself into her spirit. The sensation is overwhelming, washing over her like wave after wave, resonating in the hidden spaces of her heart and mind, reaching into the depths of who she is. The intensity of it leaves her breathless, suspended in a realm of sensation and connection where nothing else exists.

And then, in a moment of fierce, possessive tenderness, you lower your mouth to her neck, a primal growl rumbling from deep within your chest. As your teeth pierce the delicate skin, a sharp gasp escaped her lips, the sudden bite a bold, possessive claim that sends a fresh surge of feeling through her. The bite is both a brand and a promise, an ancient ritual of dominion and devotion. The sting of it is sharp, grounding her even as it electrifies her senses, drawing a fine line between pain and pleasure, agony and ecstasy. She arches into you, her body a willing canvas as you mark her, the bite an indelible declaration that says without words: she is yours.

The pain of your teeth sinking into her skin serves as a fierce counterpoint to the pleasure that swells within her, a raw edge that makes every sensation more vivid. It anchors her even as it pushes her toward the brink, a grounding force in the swirling maelstrom of ecstasy that consumes her. The juxtaposition of agony and rapture only heightens her response, a perfect balance that holds her suspended on the razor’s edge of surrender.

As the bite reaches its peak, her cry breaks free, piercing through the night—a sound raw and unrestrained, the pure, unfiltered release of everything she has held back. “AAGH, FUCK YES!” The words spill from her, half a scream, half a prayer, as her body shakes with the force of her climax, her form bending under the weight of pleasure that borders on transcendence. She feels as though every nerve, every fiber of her being, is caught in a storm, shuddering with the aftershocks of an earthquake that has left nothing in its wake but pure, blissful devastation.

Your own release follows, a deep, animalistic rumble vibrating from your chest as the tension within you finally snaps. You let go completely, your body shaking as you fill her with warmth, the final, powerful surge of your passion consuming you both. And then, as the climax reaches its height, instinct takes over—a last, intense push as your knot swells, anchoring her to you with a bond as primal as it is undeniable. The sensation is overwhelming, binding her to you in a way that feels like destiny, like an unbreakable tether. Her body instinctively tightens around you, holding you close as her own pulse echoes yours, each beat surrendering to the feeling of being utterly claimed.

The growls fade to a low, satisfied hum as the last waves of release leave you both trembling, bodies still locked together, bound by the knot that signifies not just satisfaction but a profound connection. You pull her closer, breath ragged in her ear as you hold her, feeling the beast’s hunger finally satiated, fulfilled in a way that only she could offer.

Hyeju lies beneath you, her body still quivering from the aftermath, limbs slack with the kind of deep contentment that transcends words. She feels completely and utterly yours, marked not only by the bite on her neck but by the knot still connecting you both—a reminder of the bond you share, a connection that feels eternal and unbreakable. There’s a sense of peace that settles over both of you, a quiet understanding that whatever trials may come, this moment is yours, shared and sacred.

As the tremors begin to fade, you relax against her, the heat of your body melting into hers, your claws retracting as the last remnants of your hunger dissolve into a gentle calm. The weight of you grounds her, and she feels rooted, steady, even as her heart slows and her breathing deepens. For a few long moments, there’s no sound but the soft rhythm of your shared breaths, the quiet thrum of your heartbeats in sync. The warmth that wraps around both of you is more than physical; it’s a cocoon of shared passion, of trust and fulfillment, a sanctuary that nothing else can touch.

In that moment, Hyeju knows she belongs here, held by you, her world safe and still in your arms. The bite on her neck still stings, intensifying the sense of connection between you. She has been marked—claimed in the most primal, intimate way possible. And even though the night has been rough, more intense than she ever imagined, she can’t deny the rush of emotions flooding her: love, fulfillment, an almost surreal sense of completeness.

As you calm, the wild edge within you begins to fade, the beast giving way to something softer, gentler. Leaning close, you nuzzle her neck, pressing your warm nose against the tender bite mark and letting out a low, contented rumble. With each careful lick over the small wound, you soothe the sting, the earlier aggression melting away into affectionate tenderness. Your breaths slow as you relax against her, your knot still holding you both together, anchoring her in a way that feels as intimate as it does comforting. Hyeju can feel the lingering fullness, a reminder of the bond that ties you to her as you both come down from the intense high of the night.

Hyeju, still catching her breath and feeling the sweet ache left in her body, smiles softly, her gaze filled with warmth. Every part of her feels claimed, loved, and deeply cherished. The fullness you’ve left within her is more than just a physical sensation; it’s an unspoken promise, a silent reminder of your commitment and desire for her. Her arms wrap around your broad shoulders, fingers tracing lightly down your back, lingering over the places where her nails had scratched you in the heat of the moment. She can see faint marks in your fur where her touch had dug in, and the sight makes her heart skip. Each scratch, each mark is a reminder of the intense, passionate exchange you’ve shared, of how neither of you held anything back.

Now that control has returned to you, you let out a long, contented sigh and press your forehead gently to hers, a quiet moment of reconnection. A soft whimper escapes you, thick with regret, a noise so unlike the powerful growls from before. But Hyeju simply shakes her head, pressing a gentle hand to the back of your neck, her thumb tracing soothing circles. “It’s okay, baby,” she murmurs, her voice a gentle reassurance. Her fingers thread through your hair, grounding you. “It was intense, yes, but… I wanted all of you. This—us—it’s everything to me.”

Your golden eyes soften at her words, your heart filled with gratitude and love. For a moment, it’s just you—the person she’d always loved, her protector, her partner. You lean in, your tongue flicking softly over her cheek in a loving lick, a tender gesture that makes her laugh softly as she pulls you closer. You inhale her scent, now mingled with a hint of your own, a quiet acknowledgment of the bond you have solidified together. “I’m yours,” she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper as her fingers curl around your fur. “Always.”

Wrapped together beneath the soft glow of the full moon, the storm of primal intensity fades into a peaceful silence. For a long while, you remain tangled in each other’s warmth, still joined, breathing in sync, hearts beating close. Her fingers gently run through the thick fur of your back, scratching you lightly as she strokes the soft patches on your neck and chest, making your eyelids droop as you melt into her touch. You nuzzle her affectionately, licking her cheek again, her chin, her hand—anywhere you can reach as she coos softly, her voice lulling you further into contentment.

With a final, contented sigh, Hyeju snuggles into your chest, her arms wrapped around you as her fingers stroke your fur, calming you both with each gentle pass. And there, in the quiet embrace of morning, you both drift into a peaceful sleep, still bound by the knot that holds you together, entwined in each other’s warmth and presence, bound by love stronger than any force or instinct.

[aardelea]

How He Handles Jealousy

Thank you so much for the request for this headcanon! It turned out to be longer than I initially anticipated, but I hope you find it enjoyable to read. Happy reading!

Being fresh in a relationship often means confronting one's own insecurities. One of these is the question of whether one can fully trust their partner and how to deal with it when the partner themselves is plagued by the question of whether they are truly enough. So what about the ghouls: How do they handle this in both directions? In this scenario, we assume that you are in a relationship and that you, of course, never pursue any ill intentions when creating a situation that makes your loved one jealous, and vice versa. We are always talking about a healthy level of jealousy.

Jin

Jin does not strike you as a man who becomes jealous easily. He has rank, status, outrageously good looks, and charisma. Who would dare to even consider getting too close to his beloved? And what could lead him to think that you might have an interest in someone other than him? Exactly: nothing.

Nevertheless, even the king of Frostheim occasionally experiences a strange feeling in his chest when he sees you showing a little too much interest in another person. There's nothing wrong with playing it safe, right? He will be quite open about his jealousy, though he wouldn't label it as such. Instead, he will explicitly ask you what you have going on with the other person. Depending on your answer, he will either allow you to continue interacting with them undisturbed or he will ask you to keep your distance. If you disagree, he will accept it but will become noticeably clingy and unusually touchy in the presence of that person in the future.

Conversely, Jin cannot imagine that you could ever be jealous of anyone. Aside from the fact that you are his everything, which he always shows you in his own way, he considers you superior to all other people. How could you possibly think that anyone could measure up to you? Since he can't stand most other people anyway, he would never deliberately get too close to someone else.

He won't notice your jealousy unless you communicate it clearly. Initially, he will stare at you in disbelief and will need to process what you just said. Once he has absorbed the information, he will suddenly start laughing heartily. He'll begin to grin devilishly, cup your chin, and gently pull you a bit closer to his face. "Come to my room after the event tonight. I'll show you enough good reasons why you don't need to worry."

Tohma

Tohma is a true gentleman with far too good manners for you to ever suspect that he feels jealousy. However, in the early stages of your relationship, this feeling is anything but foreign to him, as your time together is limited, and he is careful to keep your relationship a secret for as long as possible. Who wouldn't feel negative emotions when they see the person they desire getting close to other people, even if it's just a fleeting touch of their hand?

Without the chains he has bound himself with by moving to Frostheim, he would certainly be the type to charmingly but firmly put any rivals in their place. Depending on how far the rival has gone with you, it could even be imaginable that he would elegantly beat him to a pulp in an alley. Otherwise, a public display of your connection through physical contact would suffice to remind the audacious guy who he’s messing with. However, in Frostheim, Tohma is forced to use different means. If your new clingy acquaintance suddenly starts keeping their distance from you, it will likely be because they received an anonymous and highly convincing threatening letter. Everyone has skeletons in their closets, and Tohma knows exactly how to find and leverage them.

Although he is rather distant, Tohma has a seductive way of conversing with others, so it's highly likely that one or two women may have cast an eye on him. Since you are suffering as much as he is from the secrecy of your relationship, you will, sooner or later, inevitably find yourself ensnared in the burning arms of jealousy.

Even if Tohma can empathize with your feelings because he knows them as well as you do, he will want to maintain the façade at all costs and will earnestly ask you to be patient and hold back just a little longer. Sooner or later, everything will fall into place, and you can be together whenever you want. But whatever happens, don't act too rashly, as Tohma's goals for his service to the Frost King will always take precedence. By letting you into his life, he is undoubtedly risking a lot, so cut him some slack if he can't change his public behavior for now. The silver lining is that you'll receive more messages asking you to bring him "special documents" to the vault room. Reviewing those together will always take a bit more time.

Luca

Luca sees you as an honorable person and won't easily entertain the thought that anyone could take you from him, unless it’s death itself. Some situations may seem strange to him in the early days of your relationship when he sees you getting close to other men, with whom you're building a tighter (albeit genuinely platonic) relationship. Even Luca is not immune to feeling a bit uneasy.

Assuming that everything must be as it should, he will swallow that uncomfortable feeling for a long time and won’t let on. Unfortunately, he will do this until it boils over, and his feelings overwhelm him. In the next situation he observes – even if it’s just lunch at Sho's food truck – he will come directly to you and confront you both. Since by that point you likely won't have known anything about Luca's emotional state (how could you?), you'll be utterly incredulous and shocked as you watch Luca throw all his pride overboard, take your hands in his, look deep into your eyes, and seriously ask whether you still love him and want to stay with him, or if you've decided to be happier with another man. The shame reflected on his face when you tell him he couldn't be more wrong will remain a topic of conversation on campus for a long time. He won't stop apologizing to both you and your friend, promising that such behavior won't happen again. It might be best to take the poor man along to your meetings so he feels better.

Luca is an old-fashioned gentleman, inherently friendly and courteous to everyone. Unfortunately, he can quickly lose sight of his surroundings when he believes he is doing the right thing, leading to situations that may push others too far and evoke jealousy without him ever intending to.

If you react to your jealousy with a corresponding mood, Luca will quickly notice and address it. However, he won't pick up on any subtle hints you might drop that aren't blatantly obvious, as he won’t be aware of any inappropriate behavior. Once he knows how you feel, he won't stop apologizing and will be overwhelmed with guilt, culminating in showering you with attention and gifts. He promises you that he won't make such a mistake again, and he means it.

Kaito

Unfortunately, Kaito suffers from extremely low self-esteem, which also reflects the intensity of his feelings. Any tiny bit of attention you give to another man will immediately be interpreted as a sign of disinterest in him. At first, he will try to calm himself down. "Come on, Kaito, that's perfectly normal! Everyone has friends of the opposite sex! It doesn't mean anything." Despite all his efforts, his insecurity will eventually overwhelm him, and he will try to speak to you privately during a quiet moment, trying to subtly inquire about the person he is feeling envious of. "What exactly do you two discuss all the time?" "Where do you know him from?" "Does he have a girlfriend?"

Depending on the nature of your response, it will either calm him down for a while or bring him to tears. However, he would never bring it up in public. His crying will, at worst, only be noticed by his neighbors (who probably aren't surprised). Have some compassion for the poor man. He is so happy with you and still can't fathom that an angel like you chose him as her boyfriend of all people. Him, who feels like he has nothing to offer. Thus, the fear of losing you becomes even more pronounced because you might realize that he is really worthless. This, of course, is not true, and you've likely told him enough times. However, words alone won’t help him in this case. Involve him in your outings with friends and communicate or show publicly that Kaito is your boyfriend. Besides making him the happiest person on the planet, it will help calm him down.

If you, on the other hand, become jealous of someone Kaito is interacting with, you can assume that he won't pick up on it at first. After all, he wouldn’t know what there is to be jealous about. Sure, Kaito didn’t pass up any chance to flirt with other women on campus before your relationship, but that was, as stated, before you got together. Meanwhile, he would never risk making you feel unloved. If you initially don’t communicate your jealousy directly and react with a worse mood instead, the last thing he will suspect is jealousy.

So if you can’t shake off those feelings, communicate them. He may respond with confusion and even shock, but secretly he will be flattered. This will be an opportunity for you to boost his self-esteem, which can only benefit Kaito. He will cease any activities that lead to your jealousy and will make it clear in public (as long as you both agree on how to appear in public) that it is only you by his side.

Alan

It’s relatively hard to imagine Alan becoming quickly jealous in the classic sense. Since he’s already unsure in the early stages of the relationship whether it was the right decision to enter it on his part, he wouldn’t really hold it against you if you got closer to other people. Not that you yourself would ever have such thoughts, but Alan might interpret even the slightest closeness to someone else as you reconsidering your relationship with him.

Just because he won’t actively bring it up doesn’t mean he won’t feel uncomfortable when he sees you (in his view) getting too familiar with another person. When his chest tightens, and he feels the urge to step in, hold you in his arms, and never let go to ensure that you belong to him alone, he would never act on that feeling.

On the other hand, he would never assume that you might be jealous of another woman he interacts with. Let alone that he would ever give another woman enough attention for you to even consider it. So, if you want to clear things up, you’ll need to bring it up directly with him.

Knowing that you're jealous would simply break his heart, and he would wonder where he went wrong. Did he give you the impression that you’ve become unimportant to him? Did he not give you enough attention? Did he actually get too close to someone else? He would apologize a thousand times and reassure you that you are his everything and that there’s really nothing to worry about. He would avoid the other person as much as possible from then on, or at least behave much more distantly. He would never want to give the wrong impression or hurt you in any way.

Sho

Sho is a very easy-going and uncomplicated guy when it comes to relationships. He gives you all the freedom in the world and fully trusts that you’d never let anyone cross the line. The only thing that could trigger jealousy in Sho is his highly developed protective instinct. Thanks to his friendship with Leo and their excessive clubbing, he knows the dark sides of human nature all too well, and he wants to shield you from them at all costs.

So, if he notices another guy leaving his hand on your shoulder for just a millisecond too long, the good man’s protective instinct kicks in, and he feels the need to set that guy straight by joining in and adding some physical contact with you. He will throw the rival a few unmistakable looks. Once the boundaries are established and Sho has made it clear with his body language what happens if the guy gets too close to his beloved girlfriend, Sho will disappear just as quickly as he came. Have fun with the rest of your evening!

In the case that you are jealous when Sho interacts with certain people, he’ll notice it from your body language right away, unless you outright tell him. Sho is, after all, an extremely attentive and surprisingly empathetic man who doesn’t miss a single one of your glances. Even though he would expect the same trust from you that he gives you, he doesn’t react with disappointment or rejection, but with loving teasing. “What, seriously, you’re jealous of her?” He simply finds your jealousy too cute to be genuinely angry.

Sho also belongs to the type of guy who would take you along to meetings with the respective person to make things more obvious and help ease your insecurities. From now on, he’ll also be a little more careful to ensure that his actions toward others don’t provoke any negative feelings in you.

Leo

Leo would never admit that he’s jealous of someone who (in his eyes) is getting too close to you. Absolutely not. If he feels anything, it’s anger because you’re risking being seen together, and his followers might think there’s trouble between you and the influencer. Yeah, that’s definitely the only thing that comes to his mind when he sees you with a supposed rival. It’s the same when he sees overly nice comments from men about you under his videos and promptly deletes them. Don’t let it go to your head or get any silly ideas.

So, don’t think too much of it when he grumbles at you to be careful how you interact with other guys because it could give off the wrong impression. Don’t read too much into it either if he starts marking his territory when you don’t listen and still let that boring guy (allegedly) get too close. For Leo, the smallest form of physical contact is enough to trigger his jealous attentive radar. He’ll then quickly start pushing himself between you two, showering you with physical (and surely inappropriate for the situation) attention. Additionally, in his usual cruel style, he’ll subtly insult and try to humiliate his supposed rival. If you’re in a relationship with Leo, you’ll have to love him very much to deal with his behavior.

In Leo’s eyes, it’s obviously nooooo problem at all if other girls get too close to him. After all, he’s a popular influencer and can’t neglect his fans. Why would you even think he’d start anything with one of those airheads? If you do somehow let your jealousy show, you can expect to be met with plenty of scorn and mockery on his part.

Leo won’t be able to stop laughing and will call you “stupid” in the most creative ways more than once. Of course, he’ll never show outwardly how cute he actually finds your jealousy. And he certainly won’t change his behavior toward his fans. Bad for business.

However, he’ll now start including you in his videos much more frequently to make you feel better. It’s definitely not because he enjoys showing off his cute girlfriend to everyone and bragging about you. Now, he just has a really good excuse to hide his true intentions behind.

Haru

Haru is usually too busy to worry about something like jealousy. Just like you, he also has his tasks and his daily life, which you can arrange however you like, with whomever you like. Things only get critical if you start spending time with someone else (for whatever reason) that’s meant for the both of you. The first couple of times, he would take it as normal, but by the third rejection, his attention would be caught. Do you have someone else?

Haru isn’t really the type to want to take away anyone’s freedom. And certainly not yours. But sooner or later, he won’t be able to bear that uncomfortable, gnawing feeling in his chest anymore and will ask you, more or less casually, what’s going on. Are you lacking something? Did he do something wrong? If you ask him more specifically why he’s asking, he’ll calmly explain that he finds it strange that you have less time for him and that he’s worried you’re dissatisfied with him. Since you certainly aren’t (and if you are, please bring it up directly – communication is everything in a relationship!), you’ll reassure him that there’s a very good reason for your absence and he doesn’t need to worry. He’ll accept any explanation you give with relief because he fully trusts you.

In the reverse situation, Haru will quickly sense your discomfort if you somehow develop jealousy. He may not invest as much time in a relationship as others, but the time he does take for the both of you is used to its fullest. As a result, he gets to know you very well, very quickly, and senses right away when something is wrong. He’ll immediately ask you about it and want to know exactly what’s bothering you.

If it’s his light flirting with female guests at the Safari Park, he’ll do his best to cut it out, even though it’s completely meaningless to him. However, he won’t always succeed entirely because it’s just part of his nature, so please don’t hold it against him too much. Whatever else has triggered your jealousy, he’ll try to stop doing it from now on, as long as it’s within his control (some circumstances just don’t allow certain behaviors to change). At the same time, he’ll encourage you to have a bit more self-confidence and stop doubting his feelings for you because they’re more than genuine. To be sure, though, he’ll conspicuously and practically tell everyone just how fantastic his girlfriend is. Absolutely everyone. In every situation. Ren will get tired of hearing it. Towa, on the other hand, will love it. Eventually, everyone on campus will know that you are the great love of the ranger. You’ll also soon read this fact on the new brochures for the Safari Park. Still have doubts?

Towa

Once you enter a relationship with Towa, you are completely devoted to him. You are his dandelion, and he is your Prince Charming. Your love is pure and true, making it unthinkable for anyone to come between you. While Towa wouldn’t dream of restricting your time with friends, he won’t tolerate anyone who seems to have more than friendship on their mind.

Towa feels his emotions intensely and is quickly overwhelmed by jealousy once it arises. You'll notice his mood shift instantly—where sunshine was, storm clouds now linger when you and a friend are too close. He’ll wait for you to approach him, but if you bring it up, his anger will flare. Why would you let anyone come so close? Explanations won’t suffice here, and actions must follow to calm him. A little more physical distance between you and your friend will be necessary from now on. Towa dreams of a fairytale romance with his soulmate, and that includes avoiding any outward appearances that could be misunderstood.

On the flip side, it’s rare for Towa to get close to someone else, as he tends to keep people at a distance. Besides, it’s almost unthinkable for him to give much attention to anyone other than his beloved dandelion. His love for you is deep and genuine.

Should the impossible happen, and you feel jealous of someone else, Towa would drop that person in a heartbeat. Everyone besides you (and maybe Haru) is practically irrelevant to him. He’ll have no problem acting in a way that reassures you. “You’re being silly, dandelion. You’re the most beautiful flower of them all!”

Ren

Poor guy. Wasn’t it painful enough for him to realize his feelings for you and act on them? Now he must also admit that you mean so much to him that even the thought of you leaving him for some brainless dullard drives him insane? Even though you likely wouldn’t give him such reason to worry, the thought is hard to avoid. Ren has healthy self-confidence, but at the beginning of your relationship, he can’t shake the fear that you might be one of those girls who’d ditch him for a macho guy at the first chance.

Ren’s jealousy is noticeable by how harshly he insults his supposed rival. “Why are you hanging out with a guy who looks like he sleeps at the gorilla enclosure?” or “Are you sure you’re actually texting with him and not an AI? No way that guy learned how to write.” These are just some of the quips you’ll hear. It won’t take much to figure out how Ren is feeling. He wouldn’t ask to join you at these meetups or accompany you if you asked. Nor would he ever demand you stop seeing this person; it’s still your life, after all. However, showering him with extra affection won’t hurt, and though it won’t make his mood improve immediately, he’ll deeply enjoy your attention. He knows he has to handle his feelings himself, and with time, he will.

You’re unlikely to feel jealous of anyone in Ren’s life, as he tends to avoid most people. If anything, you might get jealous of an online acquaintance he chats with often. Should you bring it up, he’ll likely be annoyed since he can’t comprehend how someone can feel threatened by a person who isn’t physically present.

He’s not the type to change his behavior just because you’re uncomfortable. He expects the same freedom he gives you. However, he’ll (grudgingly and indirectly) assure you that you never need to worry about him being interested in anyone else. After all, you’re his fellow inmate in the prison called Darkwick, and no one could replace you.

Romeo

Romeo is a territorial type who hates when someone tries to intrude on his kingdom. It’s not pure jealousy driving him to chase off his so-called rival but more so his outrage at someone daring to approach what belongs to him (yes, you belong to him).

However, how he reacts depends heavily on who you’re spending time with. If you’re hanging out with Kaito, Romeo won’t care much since he doesn’t see him as a threat. But if your “rival” is more elegant and even remotely comparable to Romeo’s beauty, things get dangerous. First, he’ll start appearing around you more often, publicly wrapping his arms around you and giving you tender kisses on the cheek. While you’re still trying to figure out what’s happening, he’ll brush your flushed cheek and whisper in your ear about how stunning you look today, all while shooting a triumphant glance at his rival. Not only does he publicly claim you, but he also secures a romantic interlude in his office—unless, of course, you can resist a jealous Romeo. This scenario could repeat endlessly, but it wouldn’t be wise to test Romeo’s patience. One day, your rival might mysteriously disappear. Strange how things happen…

Conversely, Romeo expects you to have enough self-confidence to not let such a petty feeling as jealousy control you (easy for him to say). There will likely be plenty of occasions to make even the most confident person sweat with anxiety. After all, Romeo is incredibly attractive and knows how to use his charm to get what he wants. Who wouldn’t be tempted?

If you can’t hold back and express your discomfort over his behavior with someone else, you’ll initially be met with disbelief and disappointment. Did he really choose a partner so insecure that she thinks the infallible Romeo would ever be in a relationship with someone replaceable? Nonsense. His words might make you feel like he’s dismissing your feelings, telling you to pull yourself together, but his actions will tell a different story. From then on, he’ll bring you along to meetings with that person, showing you subtle yet unmistakable affection for everyone to see.

Taiga

It won’t be easy to provoke jealousy in Taiga. Not because he’s incapable of such feelings or because he doesn’t care about you, but simply because he hardly takes his eyes off you. He’s quite the clingy type and takes you practically everywhere he goes. Where would be the time to connect with someone else well enough for Taiga to have any wrong ideas?

However, if you do have enough time to become close friends with another guy, such that you have some (purely platonic) physical contact (a hand on the shoulder is enough), Taiga will quickly become dangerously jealous. Who dares to touch his beloved lucky charm?! This friendship won’t last long, as Taiga will swiftly come up to you, casually drape an arm around you, and with the other, draw his weapon and shamelessly aim it at his rival. “I think it’s time for you to leave.” Even though he says this calmly with a smile on his lips, hardly anyone will miss the seriousness of the situation. He’ll tolerate your complaints about his behavior and wave them off with boredom. But he will do it again if anyone approaches you in that way. His jealousy only flares up with charismatic types; the only exception might be Romeo. With people he perceives as losers, you can remain friends as you like. Don’t look at him like that. You chose this relationship for yourself.

In the very unlikely event that you become jealous of someone in Taiga’s vicinity, an (extremely uncomfortable) solution will also quickly present itself. Taiga will notice your jealousy if you react to him in a particular mood. When you tell him the reason, he will laugh loudly and pat your head, visibly amused as he asks if he means so much to you that you become jealous so quickly.

“No reason to worry, kitty cat, look.” Without hesitation, he pulls out a weapon and aims it at the person who triggered your jealousy. You should really react quickly at this point to prevent something worse. He truly doesn’t care about anything except you, and unfortunately, he has no qualms about showing that.

Ritsu

To provoke someone like Ritsu into such a base feeling as jealousy would take quite a lot. He is an extremely pragmatic man who has his own way of handling feelings, which he keeps quite well under control. Moreover, as his chosen one, you must possess certain qualities to even be considered at his side, including loyalty.

So why should Mr. Shinjo even worry that you might fall for another man? After all, you entered into a relationship, and that comes with rules—like an invisible contract that you both signed with a kiss. If he has doubts about you, they are likely to be well-founded—like obviously more than purely platonic physical contact with another man or blatantly ignoring Ritsu in the presence of certain people. In this case, he will immediately address it and ask for clarification of the matter.

Conversely, it will also be difficult for him to develop jealousy towards someone Ritsu associates with. You know his professional nature too well. So unless you yourself tend toward strong jealousy over trivial matters, you will only be overwhelmed by your feelings in absolutely justified situations.

Ritsu is a good observer and will quickly notice if something is wrong with you. He will directly address it to inquire about the reason for your mood swing. However, he would be a bit disappointed if you didn’t bring it up yourself. He will address the problem directly and won’t waste time on the fact that he cannot comprehend your feelings, because the fact is, you have them, and he doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable. Whatever behavior led to your jealousy: he will cease it immediately.

Haku

Haku is not someone who becomes jealous easily, which is why he grants you a lot of freedom. You would have to give someone an unusually large amount of attention to evoke that feeling in Haku. However, he isn’t the type of person to directly express his discomfort. Instead, he will endure the feeling and the sight of the two of you for quite some time until he can no longer help but take action.

Nevertheless, he won’t directly address it; instead, he will take care of the problem himself, activating his hunting instinct and increasingly joining you whenever you’re with that particular someone. In doing so, he will try to more or less subtly solidify his status as your boyfriend. A spontaneous kiss on the cheek, his arm around your waist throughout the meeting, the casual question of when he can expect you tonight… Yep, he’ll manage his emotional chaos on his own. So you can sit back and enjoy this extra attention.

If you are the one who becomes jealous (which is more than understandable considering Haku’s naturally flirtatious nature), he will quickly notice regardless of how you communicate. Not that he would want to hurt you intentionally, but he will likely find your jealousy quite adorable and will playfully tease you about it. He certainly won’t pass up the chance to annoy you. “Watch out, I’m meeting a certain lady today who is quite pretty, but she can’t even begin to compare to the princess in front of me,” or “I don’t know if you’re ready for this, but I’m seeing that one person today to whom I recently told her hairstyle looks good. But don’t worry: I won’t take her home.” He’ll ride that horse for a long time.

But rest assured, Haku only wants what’s best for you. So to take away any uncertainty, he will present you even more obviously as his beloved girlfriend in public. He won’t suggest it himself, but if you express a desire to meet those individuals who triggered your jealousy, he won’t refuse. After all, he has nothing to hide. However, you’d need to be pretty thick-skinned to endure that meeting, during which Haku will naturally be all over you the whole time to show you that you needn’t worry about anyone taking his flirting seriously, as everyone should already know he’s taken.

Subaru

The former Kabuki actor suffers from many insecurities regarding himself. This is likely connected to his somewhat impractical ability that can activate without his active involvement, showing him things that were never meant for his eyes. Despite all circumstances, he has entered into a relationship with you and, given the physical contact you’ve likely had, knows pretty much everything about you there is to know. This includes knowing your sincere feelings for him.

Because of this, there’s hardly any reason for Subaru to develop jealousy. You have your friends and handle them your way. That’s absolutely okay for him. The only exception might be strangers who have just appeared and are still difficult for Subaru to assess. In this case, especially charismatic individuals who are also very friendly toward you could provoke some jealousy in him, but he would never show it openly or address it, because, as mentioned: he knows you and trusts you completely. However, you might notice a change in his suddenly much more self-confident and assertive demeanor towards the strangers, indicating what has triggered this character change.

Conversely, Subaru will notice even the slightest change in your mood or behavior and interpret it correctly, so your jealousy won’t remain hidden for long. Being who he is, he won’t stop apologizing, sincerely assuring you that he never intended to evoke those feelings in you. The situation is visibly uncomfortable for him.

Since he takes your feelings very seriously and feels them himself through your physical contact, he will take all necessary measures to nip them in the bud. This includes, of course, assuring you thousands of times that you never have to worry. He’s far too polite to simply dismiss other people, but he will still behave a bit more distantly towards those individuals.

Zenji

Given his circumstances, Zenji was likely quite difficult to convince to enter into a relationship, so he probably gives you a lot of freedom in how you interact with others—even though he, too, can reach his limits. However, he would never expect you to completely devote yourself to him when you still have your whole life ahead of you.

When it comes to the feeling of jealousy in general, he knows it all too well, as he practically feels that biting sensation towards anyone who has the privilege of being physically close to you and feeling your warmth. However, assume that he would never communicate this feeling under any circumstances. He loves you too much and is too at peace with himself and his situation.

We can probably skip the reverse scenario, as besides a few chosen ones, no one can see him anyway. But if Zenji was already that kind of person in life, it stands to reason that someone with the right disposition could quickly become envious of his admirers, with whom he interacts very openly and invitingly, even if he never has any ulterior motives.

Zenji is the definition of a pure soul. If for any reason you were ever in a situation where you became jealous of someone who interacted with him, he would notice—whether you show it or not. Without ever bringing it up himself, he would simply cease the behavior that led to your jealousy. For you should never even entertain the idea that anyone could be more interesting to him than his dearly beloved muse.

Rui

Since Rui is someone who could easily steal a girlfriend from one or two guys, he is even more wary of guys of his caliber. It’s not that he doesn’t trust you per se, but he just knows how quickly someone can be tempted when the right buttons are pressed. To make matters worse, Rui isn’t really able to defend himself. He can’t just take you in his arms to present you as his or stand up to a guy to show dominance. Your relationship is, at best, only known through hearsay. Of course, he will feel unbearably burning jealousy when he sees someone who can touch you so easily while Rui stays in the background. And this type of jealousy is a thousand times worse than the one he literally feels toward anyone who has the privilege of touching you.

In a relationship with Rui, you should be quite careful about how you interact with other men, as Rui finds himself in an extremely vulnerable position that has been exacerbated by your relationship since he suddenly has even more to lose than before. Since he already feels guilty about being in a relationship with you when you should ideally be with someone who can offer you more than he can, he will never openly reveal his feelings to spare you what he considers an inappropriate guilty conscience. Nevertheless, his jealousy will inevitably reflect in his mood and won’t escape your trained eye. When confronted about it, Rui will admit his jealousy but assure you that you don’t need to worry about him because you haven’t done anything wrong, and it’s solely his problem. At this point, it doesn’t really matter how you react, whether you change your behavior towards the person involved or not. Unfortunately, the damage is already done for Rui.

On the other hand, Rui makes a tremendous effort not to give the impression that he’s still acting the same way as before your relationship or even before his curse. However, flirting is just too natural for him, so he can’t always suppress it, even if he doesn’t really think anything of it. He will quickly realize if he has crossed a line in your eyes and immediately backtrack. He would never hold your jealousy against you, as he’s self-aware enough to admit that it is absolutely justified, even if he would never go too far.

As far as it’s in his power, he will unobtrusively try to communicate to every woman that he is more than happily taken. So, never be too angry with him. He really is doing his best.

Ed

The elegant vampire is not so easily made jealous, especially since you certainly know what kind of dangerous man you’ve gotten yourself into. He’s also a bit too old and experienced to be overwhelmed by such feelings. However, he absolutely will not tolerate attention-seeking and obvious rivals who come a little too close to you.

Let’s be honest: Ed is a drama queen and has no sense of shame. So brace yourself for a performance worthy of an Oscar. “So you want to abandon your poor, sick lover? You would just leave me to certain death?” While speaking in a dramatic tone, he physically pushes his rival away with his back and throws himself around your neck after letting out some truly serious coughs. “Haven’t I given you all my attention and love? Haven’t I satisfied you to your utmost delight every single time? What have I done wrong?” Before you can even sink into the ground out of embarrassment, he begins passionately kissing along your neck until he eventually reaches your mouth. If you don’t push him away, he will continue this act until you both find yourselves in a rather compromising position in front of everyone present, while he gains access to your mouth with his tongue. If that’s not one of your kinks, you should definitely reject him and dramatically declare that he is your great love and has absolutely nothing to fear. He will only be satisfied once you’ve embarrassed yourselves so thoroughly in front of everyone that no one would ever think of getting too close to his prey girlfriend again. But if we’re being more honest, that’s definitely better than the scenario where your supposed rival suddenly disappears from campus and is never seen again.

Conversely, Ed loves to flirt for his life. It’s in his nature to wrap his prey around his finger so they willingly give him whatever he desires. Fortunately, his interest in other people is quite limited, so you will rarely see him interacting with anyone else besides Lyca and Rui. However, if situations do arise that provoke jealousy in you, Ed will definitely notice it immediately. And he will exploit it.

He loves you fiercely. You can be assured of this when he enters into a relationship with you. However, he remains a man who loves exaggeration. So, if he observes changes in your behavior that indicate jealousy, he will ride that feeling until he pushes your patience to the limit, leaving you with no choice but to explode and confront him. Just as in the case where you “made him jealous,” he will fairly pull the reverse show and swear his sincere love to you in the most emotional way you can imagine, immediately sending the lady (?) he was just with to hell. He will then hope that you will throw yourself around him, just the way he loves it.

Lyca

For Lyca, the concept of a relationship is quite new, and he must first learn to cope with the new emotions that have opened up to him since then and learn to assign individual feelings. This also includes jealousy. However, it is unlikely that it will quickly become a part of his portfolio, as physical contact is something natural for him and merely a sign of affection. He must first understand that this affection can indeed go deeper before he begins to worry about other guys.

Once he learns what distinguishes a relationship from a good friendship, he will indeed feel that uncomfortable tightness in his chest when he sees you with someone (like Ed) who develops in his new definition of appropriateness. Instead of observing or addressing you about it, he will impulsively take action and confront your perceived rival. “Hey, why are you so close to her? She already has a boyfriend, got it?!” Despite Lyca’s heated mood, the situation can quickly and calmly be resolved, as he will listen to your explanations and apologize if he has indeed overreacted (which is quite likely at the beginning). After all, he is still learning, and everything takes time.

In the unlikely event that Lyca interacts with girls that provoke jealousy in you, he will only acknowledge your feelings if you openly communicate them. A changed mood will otherwise simply be dismissed as “women are just unnecessarily complicated.”

“Huh, why are you thinking such silly thoughts? Look.” He will immediately wrap his arms around you and give you an unexpected kiss on the mouth. “Do you think I would want to do that with someone else?” However, Lyca takes your feelings seriously enough that he will adjust his behavior toward the individuals involved in the future. Whatever has caused your jealousy will now be stamped as “inappropriate in a relationship.”

Yuri

The great and exalted Yuri Isami would never feel such a base emotion as jealousy. Where do you think you’re going?! It’s not as if he has no experience with relationships and therefore cannot assess what behavior toward others is normal and what isn’t. No, no. He has much more important things to do than pay attention to your leisure activities. As if he would care how close that one guy gets to you, how casually he places his hand on your shoulder, or the way he looks at you. As if Yuri would even give a thought to whether he’s coming so close that the guy can smell your delicately fragrant perfume, which Yuri loves, or whether you give that guy the same charming smile you give Yuri every time you finally see each other again after a long, work-filled day. Really. Completely beneath his dignity.

So if he asks you who that dishonorable worm is that you’ve been spending so much time with lately or about whom you’ve mentioned one too many times in Yuri’s eyes, he only wants to comply with your alleged request that you should get to know each other better and participate more in each other’s lives. Even the biggest idiot on the planet wouldn’t miss the intentions behind his questions, and it’s certainly incredibly tempting to mention that he is definitely the epitome of the jealous boyfriend. But do you really want to do that to this proud man? He would deny it anyway, and dwelling on his obvious questions would probably only lead to a bad atmosphere. Just assure him that the worm is just a worm you like and that no one can compare to your knight in shining armor. But go ahead and enjoy the feeling of having completely captured this man’s heart.

If you ever feel jealous of someone Yuri is involved with, you will need to communicate it directly, as Yuri won’t quickly come to the idea that you are jealous, even if you react to him with obviously poor mood and irritation.

Even though he will feel very flattered when you confess that you are jealous, he unfortunately belongs to the type of person whose self-confidence should not be stroked too much. He will give you a lecture on how silly it is to give in to such a lowly feeling as jealousy and remind you that there is no reason for it. However, if you insist on it, he will pay more attention in the future to how he interacts with other people so that it doesn’t provoke negative feelings in you. The positive side of the story is that Yuri will then give you even more attention and become even more romantic. Because in truth, despite all his strictness, he would never want you to feel bad.

Jiro

Many of the feelings that develop in Jiro during your relationship are completely new to him. The fluttering in his chest when you’re together, the goosebumps your touch gives him, the need to feel your whole body against his skin, and also this new discomfort he feels when he sees you with another man. Generally, he doesn't mind if you spend a lot of time with other men, so it takes quite a bit of physical closeness to evoke feelings of jealousy in him.

Jiro is a pragmatic and very straightforward man. When he observes a situation where you get close enough to another person to provoke jealousy in him, he will first carefully watch both you and himself until he is sure that he can't dispel his insecurity on his own. So be prepared for questions later like, “Is there a special reason why you’re so close?”, “Am I no longer evoking romantic feelings in you, so you've reconsidered our relationship?”, “Is it normal to have multiple lovers?”

Since Jiro is quite an attractive man who works with numerous patients, it won’t be uncommon for him to interact closely with them, and some examinations may take a while. He will never think anything of it and will never come to the idea that you might think something of it either. It’s his job to take care of his patients. Nothing more, nothing less.

The only exception might be if he has experienced jealousy himself beforehand. In that case, he will have taken note of the trigger and will make sure to avoid giving you the same feeling. Therefore, he will closely observe you in this scenario, and at the slightest hint that you might be jealous, he will come to you and directly remind you that you don’t need to worry. Even if you’re not actually jealous. If he hasn't experienced jealousy yet, you will need to directly address your feelings with him and probably explain them in detail so that he can understand, which will likely result in a very awkward conversation for you. And no, he won’t really be able to understand it, as he will never see a reason for jealousy from his perspective. Nevertheless, he will then try to avoid the behavior that triggers those uncomfortable feelings in you.

[justaz]

post magic reveal arthur is like “:/ mmm i’ll open up communications with the druids but idk about repealing the ban :/“ and merlin is like “??? why??” and arthur’s like “well magic is evil, that’s all i’ve been taught and all i know. i know you’re not evil but idk about other sorcerers, i can’t just let them free.” and merlin’s like “what’ll get you to consider it” and arthur’s like “well you say that magic isn’t something you chose, it choses you. alright, but people still chose to use it.” and merlin who has never followed this train of thought before is like,,, “you wanna test it? experiment? i can stop using my magic and we’ll see what happens” and arthur who has been playing his father’s lessons on magic through his head for the past like month since he found out and has been trying to figure out a way to get merlin to stop corrupting his soul jumps on the opportunity and is like “great idea :] nothing could go wrong :] you stop corrupting yourself and i don’t have to set magic free :]”

merlin stops using his magic for everything. he makes a conscious effort to force it all down and away and the first few days pass by fine. then he starts to get a little dizzy and then he gets spacey and distracted but not rambly, just staring off into space. then he’s just like. not there anymore. druids come to camelot to speak with arthur but can’t stop staring at merlin and eventually cut the conversation off to point at merlin and ask whats wrong with him

when they find out whats been going on they go all “oh shit” and urge everyone to stand still and not make a move. arthur inquires and they answer. magic has built up within him. magics natural state is free, it wishes to be used and to fly free, to be cooped up within someone is like caging a wild stallion. it bucks and kicks at the gate, bites at its handlers, and fights like hell to be set free. the magic thats been trapped within merlin for a couple of weeks is practically tearing him apart from the inside trying to set itself free. but! they can’t just tell him to use magic here. even the smallest use of magic would be a crack in a dam that would crumble like ash and set all the magic free. and with all that magic - all of emrys’s magic? he could very well flatten the city.

they cautiously, EXTREMELY cautiously, guide merlin out of the room, out of the castle, and into the middle of the woods. they urged everyone (who followed which is like arthur and his knights) back and out of the forest. then from a distance, the eldest druid mentally reached out to merlin and instructed him to let his magic loose. within seconds a blast of pure golden light shoots forth and flattens the entire forest, the druids casting a large shield to protect themselves, arthur, and his men.

merlin staggers to his feet in the distance and the eldest druid reaches out again, for safe measure, and tells him to let loose once more. merlin obeys and reaches down into the ground and pulls all the trees back up and imbues them with life so they thrive once more. the druids claim the forest as their own, sacred by order of emrys. arthur allows it. and then goes home to draft up a magic ban repeal. and an apology to merlin.

[nasa]

Navigating Deep Space by Starlight

On August 6, 1967, astrophysicist Jocelyn Bell Burnell noticed a blip in her radio telescope data. And then another. Eventually, Bell Burnell figured out that these blips, or pulses, were not from people or machines.

The blips were constant. There was something in space that was pulsing in a regular pattern, and Bell Burnell figured out that it was a pulsar: a rapidly spinning neutron star emitting beams of light. Neutron stars are superdense objects created when a massive star dies. Not only are they dense, but neutron stars can also spin really fast! Every star we observe spins, and due to a property called angular momentum, as a collapsing star gets smaller and denser, it spins faster. It’s like how ice skaters spin faster as they bring their arms closer to their bodies and make the space that they take up smaller.

The pulses of light coming from these whirling stars are like the beacons spinning at the tops of lighthouses that help sailors safely approach the shore. As the pulsar spins, beams of radio waves (and other types of light) are swept out into the universe with each turn. The light appears and disappears from our view each time the star rotates.

After decades of studying pulsars, astronomers wondered—could they serve as cosmic beacons to help future space explorers navigate the universe? To see if it could work, scientists needed to do some testing!

First, it was important to gather more data. NASA’s NICER, or Neutron star Interior Composition Explorer, is a telescope that was installed aboard the International Space Station in 2017. Its goal is to find out things about neutron stars like their sizes and densities, using an array of 56 special X-ray concentrators and sensitive detectors to capture and measure pulsars’ light.

But how can we use these X-ray pulses as navigational tools? Enter SEXTANT, or Station Explorer for X-ray Timing and Navigation Technology. If NICER was your phone, SEXTANT would be like an app on it.  

During the first few years of NICER’s observations, SEXTANT created an on-board navigation system using NICER’s pulsar data. It worked by measuring the consistent timing between each pulsar’s pulses to map a set of cosmic beacons.

When calculating position or location, extremely accurate timekeeping is essential. We usually rely on atomic clocks, which use the predictable fluctuations of atoms to tick away the seconds. These atomic clocks can be located on the ground or in space, like the ones on GPS satellites. However, our GPS system only works on or close to Earth, and onboard atomic clocks can be expensive and heavy. Using pulsar observations instead could give us free and reliable “clocks” for navigation. During its experiment, SEXTANT was able to successfully determine the space station’s orbital position!

We can calculate distances using the time taken for a signal to travel between two objects to determine a spacecraft’s approximate location relative to those objects. However, we would need to observe more pulsars to pinpoint a more exact location of a spacecraft. As SEXTANT gathered signals from multiple pulsars, it could more accurately derive its position in space.

So, imagine you are an astronaut on a lengthy journey to the outer solar system. You could use the technology developed by SEXTANT to help plot your course. Since pulsars are reliable and consistent in their spins, you wouldn’t need Wi-Fi or cell service to figure out where you were in relation to your destination. The pulsar-based navigation data could even help you figure out your ETA!

None of these missions or experiments would be possible without Jocelyn Bell Burnell’s keen eye for an odd spot in her radio data decades ago, which set the stage for the idea to use spinning neutron stars as a celestial GPS. Her contribution to the field of astrophysics laid the groundwork for research benefitting the people of the future, who yearn to sail amongst the stars.  

Keep up with the latest NICER news by following NASA Universe on X and Facebook and check out the mission’s website. For more on space navigation, follow @NASASCaN on X or visit NASA’s Space Communications and Navigation website.  

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

[cressidagrey]

The Ties that Bind - Chapter 1

Summary: 

Shadowsingers were made, not born. Made out of trauma and loneliness and desperation.

So when Cilla and Azriel meet and their shadows entwine, they both meet the only other person that could understand these particular childhood scars.

The last thing Azriel had ever expected from his mate, however, was for her to have a surprising connection to his brother.

Warnings: 

My usual amount of Rhys bashing, Low Self Esteem, Mention of child abuse, Azriel threatens to unalive somebody

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

There weren’t many Illyrians in Velaris. And even less Illyrians who clearly had no clue how flying worked. 

Azriel watched the spectacle from a safe distance away. 

He didn’t really have a choice about that after all. 

Not if he wanted to enjoy a cup of tea out on his porch. The porch of that little comfortable lake cabin right in the mountains of Velaris. 

He had settled in for a Sunday afternoon with nothing to do for once. No pressing issues, no intelligence to sort through that couldn’t wait for a while…just him and his thoughts…and her . 

It was a young female, probably just on the cusp between girlhood and growing into an adult, with the lankiness of her limbs not yet fully subsided. 

Azriel did give her credit for being smart enough to find herself one of the mountain lakes in the mountains of Velaris…which had been a brilliant thing to do because every time she threw herself off one of the cliffs on the other side of the lake, she plummeted right into that icy water, wings trying and failing horribly to keep her adrift. 

It was probably less smart to do this right now, however,  when winter was just around the corner. Nobody was stupid enough to go swimming now…not if they didn’t want to turn into an icicle. 

Still, every time without fail, she somehow managed to drag herself back out of the water, to dry land and up the cliffs to do it again. Azriel could respect that kind of single-minded determination. 

It reminded him of himself…of his own first few attempts at flying…after he had gotten out of that cauldron-forsaken cell. 

He couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to this girl…what had happened to her that made her learn to fly now , when that was something that should have happened years ago…something that should have been natural to her…

She could extend her wings fully, so he didn’t think that she had been clipped…though maybe somebody had done a truly horrible hack job at it and that explained why her wings didn’t seem to hold her body weight…How did an Illyrian female end up in Velaris in the first place? 

Question over questions and he didn’t know the answers to it. 

It was peculiar…And it was making him sit up straight, watching her clamber up that cliff again, the grey dress she wore soaked with water and clinging to her figure. 

What had brought her here? Was this a…He didn’t think that she knew that he was there and watching her…He had warded this house with everything he had, had thrown every fucking glamour at it that he could, making it impossible to be seen if somebody didn’t know that it existed…and not many people knew that it existed in the first place. 

It had become his…little escape. Far away from the House of Wind or the River House…far enough that nobody would search for him here, but near enough that…well. 

If they needed him, Azriel was just around the corner. 

And he could get some sleep in the silence of the mountains surrounding him. 

Cassian and Nesta were never going to manage to be quiet. And quite frankly, that was a very particular kind of torture after last Winter Solstice. 

His High Lord had made himself very clear…and Azriel…well, that stubbornness that had meant that he had clung to Mor for 500 years…he couldn’t manage the same anymore. 

The very heart of him was exhausted. Exhausted from always, always not being the one chosen. Exhausted from never seemingly being good enough, never measuring up. 

So silently, quietly, Azriel had let it go. Let go of wishful dreams and stolen touches…Let go of that particular wish. 

He would never have a mate. He would never have a wife. He would just exist in his loneliness. 

It was better for everybody involved. 

Regardless of how envy burned deep in his chest…regardless of jealousy, regardless of what he wanted . Azriel should have figured out centuries ago that he never got what he wanted anyway. 

So why hope anymore? 

Why hope and have that hope dashed and have his heart broken again? And again and again and again?

Why not simply accept it? Why not try to make the best out of it? 

If he would end up alone, he could do it on his terms. Thus, that charming lake cabin with only one room he actually used. 

He liked it. Scratch that. Azriel loved it. 

Loved the quietness, loved how roomy and bright it was, the perfect antithesis to all of the years spent in that cell. 

And if he made this his home… his home …well, only he needed to be content here. 

His home. 

Nobody else needed to like it. Just him. His and his alone. The perfect place to be lonely all on his own. 

Master!   His shadows snapped at that moment and he startled. She hasn’t come up yet.

What? he demanded, his gaze immediately snapping up to the lake. 

No trace of her anyway. 

She jumped and hit her head. 

Why didn’t you fucking say something? he demanded harshly. Great. Now he needed to rescue her.

Definitely not how he wanted to spend his Sunday afternoon doing. 

She must have managed to catch an updraft, because he didn’t need to pull her from the depths of that lake. Though maybe that would have been better…It would have left her with fewer scrapes. 

Instead, she had landed in a heap in the shallows of the lake, water just knee high and Azriel hissed at the ice-cold water lapping against his skin as he gathered her up. 

She was unconscious, her skin pale and ice-cold to the touch. Nearly frozen solid. 

He pulled her into his arms, lifting her up and carrying her the few feet to dry ground, a hand immediately finding her pulse point. 

He looked at her face, at the black hair and skin that was pale and clammy and…

Oh. 

His. His . 

There she was. 

After 500 years, there she was. 

He touched her with shaking hands, with reverence. Cupping her cheek, feeling her rattling breath against his scarred hands, turning her to her side as she started coughing. 

Still unconscious…a wound on her forehead bleeding nearly sluggishly. 

The water she had inhaled came back up and he made sure that she didn’t swallow it back down nearly automatically, unable not to stare at her. 

His…His mate?

His mate. 

Just a slip of a female, small and delicate, cheekbones and clavicles standing out sharply. She could use some more fat on her, to be completely honest. She looked… emaciated , not just simply thin. Starved . 

And if her body hadn’t been the first clue…her wings were the second. He stared at the scars that crisscrossed where they protruded from her back…He knew scars like that. He himself had scars like that. Her wings had been bound to her back so tightly that whatever rope had been used had rubbed at the delicate skin covering the bones…rubbing it raw. 

He swallowed at that realisation, the fury in his chest bursting wide open. It wasn’t the only scar on these wings…there were more. No wonder she had difficulty flying. It was so bad that he wondered if she would ever be able to fly at all. 

Who had done this to her? 

If he ever found out, he would plunge Truthteller into their chest and make them regret ever having been born. 

His mate coughed again, sounding miserable. “You’ll be fine,” Azriel promised her fiercely. If he had a single thing to say about it…she would be fine. He would make sure that she would be fine. She was his now. 

His mate. 

The one person that he was allowed to care for…the one person he could pour all that attention and love onto that he normally held so tightly buried in his chest. His mate . 

She was his and he was going to make sure that she was treated properly now. 

“Come on, Sweetheart, we’ll get you warm and dry,” Azriel promised her, picking her up again. She weighed next to nothing to him as he cradled her into his arms and made his way back to his cabin. 

Warm and dry and he would do something against the wound on her head and the scrapes on the rest of her. He couldn’t do anything against how thin she was, but he could probably manage to scrounge up some soup or something… Anything and everything so that she would be fine. His mate. 

His . 

Azriel reached his cabin seconds later, putting her down next to the mattress he used as a bed.

He really should have invested in some fucking furniture, but with a regrettable lapse of judgment he hadn’t. 

He hadn’t because just for him, he hadn’t seen a need for it other than the necessities. A mattress was more than enough, no reason for a bed frame. No reason to put that mattress in an actual bedroom, if one corner of his living room and kitchen would work just as well. 

Well, he could change that. He would change that. His mate deserved a bed, and a proper closet and everything else her heart desired. 

He would make sure she would want for nothing. 

Get her out of her dress and underneath the blankets, he told the shadow sharply, who for once seemed to be silent in pure shock. 

He wasn’t going to touch her anywhere. Not like this. Not more than absolutely necessary. 

Instead, he got himself dry, a pot of water boiling on the stove, all the vegetables he had stocked in the cooling cabinet and the chicken he had bought to roast thrown in right along with it. 

Then Azriel raided his stock of healing supplies, bringing them to her bedside. 

Now, safely dressed in an old dry shirt of his and tucked under every blanket his shadows could find in the house, her skin was still cold but no longer icy. Thawing. 

He dabbed at the wound on her forehand and wrapped the scrapes that covered her hands…hands that were blistering and covered with a rash. Hands that were definitely used to harsh physical work. 

These weren’t the hands of a lady. These were the hands of somebody that worked for a living. 

Azriel tucked her hands under the blankets with the rest of her, and gently tucked a straw curl back behind her ear…and then came up short when he realised that…that her ear…it was pointed . Not the usual rounded ear of a pure-blood Illyrian. Pointed like a High Fae. 

Oh . 

She must be half Illyrian, half High Fae. 

Exceedingly Rare… but not impossible. Rhys was the proof of that. 

Master! He startled a second time, glaring at his shadows. Why did they keep startling them? And why were they screaming at him in pure excitement? 

Only then, he saw the tendril of shadows. Hesitantly twirling out from her hair. 

Not one of his. He didn’t know how he knew that, but he knew. 

This wasn’t one of his shadows, this wasn’t…

Oh. 

Was she…

Are they… hers? he asked, nearly hesitantly. Was she…just like him? A shadowsinger ?

He had never gotten to meet another one. He had never…There had never been anybody that had explained to him how they worked, how he could master them…all of it…he had learnt through hard work and determination and not often the feeling that he was truly going insane. 

He had never thought that he would get to meet another shadowsinger ever. He had thought that maybe it was just a quirk of fate that also in this one ability, he would be unique, removed from everybody around him…Given that was how he felt any day of the week. 

Yes, they are, his shadows answered excitedly, a few tendrils of his slowly approaching hers…that seemingly wilted away, hesitantly. He wanted to reach out and cradle them in his hands…make sure that her shadows and his mate understood that no harm would come to her from him. 

How high were the chances that his mate, the one the mother picked for him, would be a shadowsinger just like him? 

He swallowed.  

Ask them for her name? he requested from his shadow hesitantly, wondering if they were able to communicate with hers…if he could talk to her shadows…if she could talk to his…

Cilla, the shadows answered after a moment. Cilla . Her name was Cilla. 

Then very quietly:  They are begging you not to hurt her. 

Somebody thrust a knife into his heart and twisted. 

Of course, they would ask that. Of course. 

They didn’t trust him at all. Why should they?

She wouldn’t be a shadowsinger if she hadn’t spent years feeling so alone that the shadows started talking back to her. Why should she trust him?

I am not going to hurt her. I swear that to them on my life, he promised fiercely. He would not hurt her. Never. 

She was his mate . 

He would spend the next few centuries trying desperately to make sure that he was worthy of her, nothing else. He was not going to hurt her. Not if he had any choice in that matter. 

His mate. His mate . He was going to take care of her, even when it was the last thing he did. 

Nobody was ever going to hurt her again, not if Azriel had a single thing to say about it. 

He was going to draw his line into the sand just like Enalius had down all these millennia before him at the Pass. And whoever would cross it, they would rue that day. 

It was easy enough to tug harshly at the dormant thread Rhys had long ago left in his mind…easy enough to let his brother into the ante-chamber of his mind once he had his attention. 

I won’t be available next week. 

Are you asking me for a vacation, Az? Rhys asked with some amusement. No. He wasn’t asking. 

He was going to take the next week and get to know his mate and nobody was going to stop him. Unless she told him no. 

It’s not a request. This is me informing you that I won’t be available, Azriel gave back, his voice even. 

He could nearly hear Rhys’ mental sigh. Is this still about you and Elain? Rhys asked him, long sufferingly.  

There is no me and Elain, Rhysand, Azriel shot back. Rhys had taken care of that. Though he probably did owe his High Lord a bottle of some ridiculous expensive alcoholic beverage for that. No Elain, which meant he was free to conduct his love life however he saw fit. Which meant that if Cilla was willing to give him a chance…

Then what it is about? Rhys asked him. 

Azriel could tell the truth. But he had absolutely no fucking want to do that. Rhys had made himself very clear last Winter Solstice. And Azriel didn’t want anybody to meddle. Cilla was his mate and nobody else’s and the only thing that mattered was what she wanted. Not what anybody else thought about her or their Mating Bond or anything else. 

I have some things to take care of that need my undivided attention, he said, his voice hard. Making it very obvious that Azriel wasn’t interested in answering any questions about it. 

And you couldn’t tell me that weeks ago? 

No. 

Fine. 

It’s not like it would have mattered to him if Rhysand had disagreed. Azriel was still not going to come in next week. 

It wasn’t like took many days off in the last few centuries. He was probably long overdue for a vacation. 

A soft noise pulled him away from that particular line of thinking and he looked down at Cilla, her nose scrunched up, shifting slightly. 

“It’s alright,” he promised her, keeping his voice calm and easy. “Can you open your eyes for me, Cilla?” he asked and one eye blinked open…showing him a pair of dark brown pupils.

 “There you go,” he praised her, “Good, Sweetheart.”

For one moment she looked at him utterly petrified, not understanding at all what was going on. Just a second later, he felt her fear and terror pour all over the fledgling Mating Bond, that must have just snapped for her. 

One hand flayed out and one of his shadows caught it, her eyes jumping from him to the shadows and then back again. He watched as she seemingly tried to work through it, one of her shadows gently caressing her cheek, clearly calming her down.  

“You…You’re just like me,” she whispered, her voice rough from disuse, wings twitching with something. 

“I am,” he agreed softly. 

And then, he saw the shadow curl behind her ear, whispering something in her ear. And then: “Mate?” she whispered, staring at him, her eyes wide, the expression on her face wanting and desperate and a thousand other things. 

His mouth went dry. He managed a nod. 

And then to his surprise, she pounced. There was nothing graceful about it as she clung to him, nearly slapping her with one of her wings, as he pulled her against his chest. 

“I am your mate,” he agreed with a weak chuckle.

Hers.

[tlbodine]

So, Things Are Terrible and You Want to DO SOMETHING

The election is over and, ah...did not go well. While a lot of folks are doing a post mortem of the campaigns and trying to understand what happened with the vote and fighting over who shoulders the blame, we've gotta turn an eye toward the future and figure out, okay fam, where the fuck do we go from here.

I don't have all the answers on this, and I'm not an authority by any means, I'm just a horror author with a blog. But I've been thinking a lot about it and I wanted to share my thought process with others who might want to DO SOMETHING but feel they're spinning their wheels.

Buckle in. This will be a long one.

Step One: Understand the actual risks and stakes.

I think it is very easy to start panicking now about the worst possible case scenario -- jackbooted military busting into the door to disappear everyone who ever said something mean about Trump or bought a banned book or something -- and let fear turn into inaction.

I'm not saying things can't get that bad, and I'm not saying that it won't be absolutely terrifying right out the gate for some particularly at-risk groups -- but the distance between "now" and "V for Vendetta" is long and filled with a lot of intermediary steps. There will be so many opportunities to prevent the worst case scenario.

I say this because, if your mental image of "Bad Things Happening" is The Purge, it will be easy to wake up on inauguration day, look outside to see that the world is not on fire, think, hey, maybe things will be okay after all, and then completely disengage. Alternatively, you might feel so frozen with terror at the possibility of persecution that you do nothing. This is why people are saying: don't obey in advance.

It is essential for those of us with more privilege to use it to take care of those who are more vulnerable.

So. Who is most vulnerable? What does that vulnerability actually mean? What are the most likely risks of Trump's presidency? Here's a Guardian article that I think does a good job of summarizing some of the main issues. Go read that, then come back here.

Step Two: Take steps to protect yourself

You've gotta put your oxygen mask on first, right? So before you start getting involved in other causes, figure out what risks YOU are at, immediately, and do as much as you can to secure yourself. Some potential action steps depending on your circumstance may include:

Renewing your passport (helpful for leaving the country, but also for gender/name change purposes)

Getting vaccines / boosters

Securing birth control

Ensuring your necessary papers (birth certificates etc.) are where you have access to them.

Drawing up legal paperwork for spouses/partners (always a good idea, a helpful safety measure in case you lose marriage rights)

Bolstering your data privacy and online security. Here's a step-by-step guide I found that could help with that.

The specific steps you need to take here depend on what risks you, personally, face. You'll want to do some more research into this for your particular scenario.

No matter who you are, though, it's probably a good idea to start saving money and being a little more conservative with your spending and/or pay down debts to free up some cash. You don't know what kind of emergency may befall you, and having spare money for an emergency is never a bad idea.

There is a possibility that the cost of many things you rely on might go up, if Trump goes through with his tariffs plan. You will want to plan for that.

Food costs may also rise due to tariffs (we import a lot of food from Mexico and Latin America for example) as well as a loss of immigrant labor. There is also a possibility that food safety standards could fall due to overturning regulations. Now would be a good time to look into local food resources like farm share/CSA, community farms, etc., and to stock up on a few key staples like rice and beans.

Okay. Now that YOU are reasonably safe...what can you do to protect your community?

Step Three: Get Involved

Here is your mission: You need to stay engaged enough to know what's going on, without burning yourself out or exhausting yourself, and to take actual decisive actions instead of wasting your energy arguing on the internet.

Got that? Okay. Good. Here are some action steps:

Support independent journalism. Subscribe to local papers, donate to and watch public broadcast programming. I signed up for news from ProPublica, for example, as well as the news-roundup service What The Fuck Just Happened Today. The goal is to stay informed without falling down an endless rabbit hole of upsetting information.

Share news and resources with others in your circle. This can be a good use of social media. It's what I am doing right now!

If it is safe for you to do so, challenge and educate your friends/family members/neighbors/coworkers. Only if it is safe for you to do so. Do not put yourself at risk doing this. And do not waste your time arguing with people who are unlikely to change. But if you have well-meaning people in your life who you think could be won over, look for opportunities to do this - the right way. I've had some success with this, I will probably write a guide about it in the future. In the meantime, here's a good article that can help.

Join local grassroots activism groups. You'll have to do some work to decide what groups to join and which causes you want to support, because you cannot do everything. But there are tons of organizations taking direct action in all kinds of causes. Search "grassroots [cause] activists in [where you live]" to start finding things. Once you get involved in one group, you might meet people who can introduce you to other groups and causes. Yes, this means you will have to go outside and meet people. I'm sorry.

Join direct action groups. Same concept as above. You'll have to search in your area but once you know people it'll be easier to find more opportunities. Some of these groups may overlap. You might find direct action opportunities by engaging politically and vice versa. GO OUTSIDE AND TALK TO PEOPLE WHO ARE DOING THINGS TO HELP.

Get involved in local politics. Here are some quick tips. A lot of things are affected at the city level - stuff like book bans and bathroom bills are often battled first at local libraries and schools, and you can be part of those conversations! Sheriffs are elected and can have a big influence on local policing. Local elections affect how tax dollars are spent, how homeless populations are treated, and lots more. Don't snooze on local elections. Get involved and stay involved.

Look up your representatives. Get in the habit of calling, emailing, and writing letters. Figure out what legislature is being passed and then call your reps and harangue them about it - both to support bills you approve of and shoot down ones you don't. Sign petitions. Join email campaigns. Here's one you can go sign right now from the ACLU. See? Not that scary.

I think a lot of people figure that getting involved in politics doesn't matter or that it's all small potatoes but...man. The president is not god, no matter what he thinks. The sitting administration is not the sole power in the universe. There is an entire machine of government we can lean upon and act upon.

Finally, some general safety notes:

Some forms of direct action are not legal. Take steps to be safe if you choose to partake. Follow the lead of more seasoned activists for what forms of communication to use and so forth.

If you're not willing or able to put yourself at legal risk to act, you can help others by donating to bail funds and legal defense funds.

We've already seen this in some areas, and it will only get uglier - some bad actors are feeling emboldened by the change in regime and will misbehave. It's a good idea to learn some self-defense skills, in whatever way is comfortable to you, and brush up on some tenets of victimology that can help you stay safe. I'll write more about that in the future.

All right. That's all for now. It's by no means comprehensive...but should hopefully help you get started taking the next step. Stay safe out there.

[uzurakis]

I’m not sure if this is the place to request, but I’ll leave it here. 🥹💪🏻 I hope you’re doing well! I really enjoy your work. Do you think the JJK men will ever be in a romantic relationship with someone? I sometimes feel they won’t find someone because of the dangers they face. Could you write a scenario where they love you so much but don’t want to get you in their life because you can get hurt being in love with them🥺🙏 (Please include Inumaki and Goji; I love the way you write him so much. Thanks!!! ♥️♥️♥️)

I DON’T WANT U GETTING HURT CUZ OF ME!

featuring: nanami kento. fushiguro toji. fushiguro megumi. gojo satoru

n. i’m doing well, i hope u’re too, nonnie. i don’t write for toge as i’ve stated in my rules, but i surely do write for gojo; so here it is ^^

NANAMI KENTO was meticulously grading papers late at night, the soft rustle of pages the only sound in his otherwise silent apartment. his mind, usually focused and disciplined, kept drifting back to you. he clenched his fist, pushing the thought away as he forced himself to concentrate on the assignments in front of him. “i can’t let them become a target,” he told himself repeatedly, jaw tightening with each repetition.

the pile of papers slowly diminished, yet the nagging worry in his heart did not. he knew the dangers of his occupation as a jujutsu sorcerer all too well. allowing you deeper into his life meant exposing you to those same dangers, and that was something he could not bear.

later that evening, he dropped you off at your home. his demeanor was more reserved than usual, his words carefully measured. “always be aware of your surroundings,” he said, his voice steady but lacking its usual warmth.

you looked at him, sensing something was off. “kento are you okay? you seem . . distant.”

he forced a small smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “i’m fine. just tired from work.” he glanced around, scanning the area out of habit. “remember to lock your doors and windows. and if you ever feel unsafe, call me immediately.”

though, you nodded, feeling a pang of concern. “i will. but, kento, you can talk to me, you know? if something’s bothering you . .”

the man looked at you. if the situation, if the life he chose had let him, he wanted to tell you everything, to let you in on the turmoil he felt. but then, the reality of his world crashed back in. “i know. thank you.” he reached out and gently squeezed your hand. “just . . take care of yourself, alright?”

you squeezed his hand back, feeling the tension in his grip. “i will. you too, kento.”

FUSHIGURO TOJI loved you more than he could ever express, but his world was dark and filled with danger. knowing this, he made the hardest decision of his life and left you in the dust. watching you from the shadows, his usual smirk was replaced by a look of concern and gloom. he kept his distance, observing you from afar, ensuring you were safe without revealing his presence.

fast forward, as you walked home from work, you sensed someone following you. your heart raced, but you continued walking, pretending not to notice. then, you heard his voice, low and rough, but unmistakable. “stay away from people like me.”

you froze, turning around to find the guy standing a few feet away, partially hidden in the shadows. “toji?” you whispered, heart aching at the sight of him.

he stepped closer, but not close enough to touch. “don’t search for me. my world . . it’s too dangerous for you.”

tears welled up in your eyes as you took a step forward. “why did you leave? you didn’t even give me a chance to understand.”

toji clenched his fists, the pain evident on his face. “i left because i love you, for heaven’s sake! because i know what happens to people who get close to me. they get hurt, or worse.”

“. . i can’t let that happen to you.”

he sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping whilst you were left with zero words. “it’s not that simple. every day i’m in your life, you’re at risk. the best thing i can do for you is to stay away.” he looked back at you, “just promise me you’ll be safe. stay away from people like me.”

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI often debated whether he should distance himself to keep you safe or savor every precious moment he had with you. this internal conflict left him feeling frustrated, and he struggled to reconcile his feelings with the reality of his dangerous life.

to protect you, megumi kept your interactions brief and guarded. he feared that his enemies might use you against him, and the thought of you being dragged into his world was unbearable. he knew you deserved a peaceful life, free from the horrors he faced daily.

later that evening, you approached him, sensing his uneasiness. “megumi . . is everything alright?” you asked gently, concern shown in your eyes.

he looked at you, his expression conflicted. “i, i’m fine,” he replied, though his sentence lacked conviction.

you stepped closer, refusing to be deterred. “fushiguro megumi, how many times i’ve said that you don’t have to hide from me? i can see something’s bothering you. now please, talk to me.”

megumi sighed, running a hand through his hair. “it’s not that simple. being with me . . it’s dangerous. the enemies could use you to get to me. i don’t want to see you get hurt.”

touching his arm, you reached out. “baby, i understand the risks. but i also know that i love you, and i want to be with you, no matter what.”

“but you shouldn’t be dragged into this. you deserve a normal life, without all this danger.”

“i don’t care about a normal life,” you said with all your will. “i care about you. and i want to be by your side, even if it’s not easy.”

“i just . . i don’t want to lose you.”

GOJO SATORU seldom joked and flirted like he used to, his demeanor growing more serious whenever he was around you. he often caught himself staring at you, lost in thoughts of a life where he could protect you without the constant fear of danger.

he was the strongest, after all, wasn't he? sometimes, he felt confident that he could keep you safe, that he could shield you from any harm. but a part of him couldn't ignore the nagging doubt; the countless enemies he had made, the unpredictable nature of the future. he could protect himself, but what about you? could he always make it in time when the clock struck?

currently, you both sat on the balcony, the city lights twinkling below. gojo's gaze was distant, his mind clearly preoccupied. you reached out, placing a hand on his arm. "satoru, what's wrong? you've been so detached lately."

he looked at you, those usually playful blue eyes now seemed duskier. "i've been thinking about us, about your safety."

you frowned, concern etching your features. "my safety? satoru, i know your job is dangerous, but we've talked about this. i want to be with you, no matter what."

"it's never that simple. i have enemies, powerful ones. i can protect myself, but . . what if something happens to you? what if i'm not there in time?"

trying to offer reassurance, you brushed his shoulders. "you're the strongest sorcerer, satoru. if anyone can protect me, it's you. but i also know the risks, and i'm willing to take them because i love you."

his expression softened, but the worry didn't leave his eyes. "i love you too, more than anything. but i can't help but think about the future, about the dangers. i don't want you to get hurt because of me."

"we'll face whatever comes together. i trust you, satoru. and i know you won't let anything happen to me."

he pulled you into an embrace, holding you tightly as if trying to shield you from the world. "i promise i'll do everything i can to keep you safe. but you need to promise me you'll be careful, too."

@uzurakis

[steddiealltheway]

(I have just hit a very nice (silly) milestone of 6969 followers, so I wrote this little ficlet to celebrate and thank you all for always being so supportive 💛 I hope you enjoy)

Everyone is shocked when Steve and Eddie announce they’re moving in together.

But, to Steve, it’s really a no-brainer. Robin is going away to college, the kids are starting to get their licenses and no longer need a babysitter, and Eddie desperately wants to get out of Hawkins.

So, Steve bought a map, measured the distance between Hawkins and Robin’s college, and marked a spot right in the middle.

Okay, so maybe it ended up being in the middle of a river, but there was a town near there that was perfectly not too far from Hawkins while being far away enough for Eddie to feel safe. As well as being far enough from Robin to give her space at her new school while being close enough that she could easily spend the night at their place whenever she wanted.

But distance wasn’t a problem for anyone, they were mainly concerned about how Steve and Eddie would live with each other and not kill each other.

But after a few weeks, Steve can confidently say that living with Eddie is… nice actually.

Really really nice.

Of course, he had been a little concerned about all their differences and adjusting to having someone always around, but Steve enjoys the company.

Actually, he specifically enjoys Eddie’s company.

Sure, he can be loud and a bit messy, but Steve loves that their small apartment actually feels like a home.

Whenever Robin stops by, she comments about how domestic they’re getting. Especially whenever Eddie randomly appears with a cup of water not even seconds after Steve mentions he was getting thirsty.

But what Steve fails to mention to Robin are all the little other things Eddie does, like when it’s late at night and Eddie brushes the hair off of Steve’s forehead and says, “It’s a little late for me to see those beautiful eyes still open."

Sometimes when they're watching a movie, Steve will fall asleep and wake up to Eddie carrying him to bed as if it's an easy thing to do.

And yeah, maybe Steve finds it overwhelmingly hot, and maybe he clings a little tighter whenever Eddie tries to put him down so they're stuck in a tight embrace that Steve can wave off as a result of being half asleep.

But sometimes Eddie's eyes linger on Steve a little longer than they should or Eddie will throw his arm over the back of the couch and let his fingertips lightly trace over Steve's shoulder or run through his hair gently as if he doesn't even notice himself doing it. And it makes Steve think that maybe, just maybe, Eddie might have feelings for him too.

But just when things are going great, and Steve is thinking about testing the boundaries of their friendship to push more into romantic territory, Eddie starts fucking with him.

The problem is, it's not anything big or obvious that Steve can just laugh off. Instead, Eddie starts messing with the thermostat. The thermostat Steve likes to keep strictly at 71.

But Eddie has decided to set it to 69.

At first, Steve just adjusts it, wondering why Eddie is bumping it down when he's always cold and wraps himself in a blanket, complaining that 71 is too cold.

After two days of back and forth, Steve wonders if the thing is just broken because he hasn't actually seen Eddie mess with it. So, he wanders to Eddie's room and knocks on the door lightly before opening it.

Eddie lays back on his bed with a smirk on his face that instantly alerts Steve that Eddie has in fact been messing with him.

He crosses his arms and leans against the doorway. "Have you been messing with the thermostat?"

Eddie shrugs and comments, "Maybe."

Steve frowns, not sure what the hell kind of game Eddie's playing at. "Well, can you maybe leave it at seventy-one?"

"And if I don't?" Eddie challenges, cocking his head to the side, "What are you going to do about it?"

"Change it back to seventy-one," Steve replies easily. He feels like he's missing something when Eddie's face falters a bit, but he hopes it's just him getting the message to not mess with it. And just in case he doesn't get it, he shuts the door a little more firmly than usual.

Only, two days later, Steve happens to notice that the thermostat is set to 69 again. He scowls and presses the button twice before going off to Eddie's room and knocking on the door again a little harder than usual, wondering why Eddie is trying to mess with him after they had been having such a nice day.

"Come in!" Eddie chirps.

Steve swings the door open and rests his hands on his hips. "You changed it again."

Eddie shrugs and leans back on his bed looking overly comfortable. "Just setting the mood."

"Yeah, you've set the mood, and you set it to annoyed. Stop changing it," Steve says as he starts to close the door. He stops as it's about to close and peaks his head back in. "Please."

With that, he thinks he's done with the whole thing. And after a few days pass, he's pretty much forgotten about the whole incident.

That is, until Robin comes to visit and suddenly asks, "Does it feel slightly colder in here to you?"

Steve groans and walks over to the thermostat, seeing the number 69 staring back at him. He's not sure when Eddie changed it, but he's not even currently there so Steve can yell at him. Instead, he just complains to Robin, "Eddie's been fucking with me and changing the thermostat."

Robin snorts. "Isn't he like perpetually cold all the time?"

"Yes! Which is why I'm so confused about him keeping it at sixty-nine all the time."

Robin pauses and glances over at Steve. "What is he keeping it at?"

"Sixty-nine."

Robin just cackles in response, and Steve glares at her asking, "What?"

"Sixty-nine!" Robin laughs again.

"Real mature, Robin," Steve says, rolling his eyes before the realization hits him. "Oh, Christ."

Robin only laughs harder, but Steve is stuck on the other conversations he had with Eddie which were... definitely miscommunications. Oh god, was Eddie trying to... proposition him?

Robin's laughter dies down enough for her to ask, "What's wrong?"

Steve gives her a look and sits down on the couch next to her, further realizing the thermostat incidents happened after days when the two of them got a little more... friendly than usual.

Steve sighs and explains the entire situation including the things he's left out before including his feelings for Eddie. He's glad that Robin holds in her laughter until after he's done.

"Stop laughing, it's not funny."

Robin manages to say through her laughter, "You both are disasters. But you're both so gone on each other that it's almost a little disgusting." She then stands up and grabs her bag, walking toward the front door.

"Where are you going?" Steve asks, following her.

Robin turns around and gives Steve a look. "I'm leaving before Eddie gets back and you two..." she gestures toward the thermostat.

Steve groans, "Get out, Buckley." He can't help but smile before he pulls her into a hug and digs some money out of his wallet.

"What's this?" Robin asks.

"Gas money for sending you away early."

Robin smiles and salutes him. "I guess this means I'll be coming back tomorrow."

"I'll call in case we're still-"

"Gross, dingus," Robin says with a laugh before she hugs him one more time and whispers, "Thank you for telling me."

Steve just squeezes her a little tighter.

After she leaves, Steve takes a minute to form a plan before Eddie gets back from whatever store he went to. He looks at the thermostat and sets it back to 71 degrees while he tries to think.

Unfortunately, he doesn't get far in his thinking before the front door unlocks and Eddie walks in with a few grocery bags in hand.

Steve just turns around and tries not to look too startled by Eddie's sudden appearance.

Eddie gives him a confused look and gestures outside. "Did I just see Robin leave?"

Steve nods but gives no further explanation, stuck on how the hell he's supposed to approach this subject with Eddie. God, now he understands the thermostat method.

"You okay?" Eddie asks before his eyes settle on the thermostat. "Oh, shit. Sorry, I did that late last night. Can we just forget that that happened? It was... dumb really."

Instead of forgetting it, Steve dramatically reaches up and hits the down button twice. "I think I finally get it." Eddie's eyes widen as Steve crosses his arms and continues, "Setting the mood, right? Or, tell me, what are you going to do about it?"

Eddie looks at him for a second then suddenly drops all the bags in his hands, practically racing down the hallway to Steve and cupping his face in his hands. "Am I reading this right?"

Steve slowly glances at the thermostat. "Well, it does say sixty-nine."

Eddie huffs out a laugh but quickly clarifies, "I don't just want that. I mean... I like you. And I just couldn't think of a good way to bring that up without it being some type of joke. Not that liking you is a joke, but oh god-"

"Eddie," Steve says firmly, stopping his rambling. "I like you, too."

Eddie's face lights up. "Yeah?"

Steve nods as his hands come up to Eddie's waist and pull him in a little closer.

"You like me enough to sixty-"

"Oh, shut up," Steve says with a big smile.

"Make me," Eddie replies, giving Steve an exaggerated wink.

Steve shakes his head and sighs before pulling Eddie into a sweet kiss, both of them smiling too much to make it anything more than a peck. When they pull away, Steve thinks he might murder Eddie when he whispers, "Nice."

But he wouldn't have it any other way.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Hellbound Angel

Male Yandere Demon x Male Angel Reader (CW: Noncon, drugged reader, drugged sex, drug-like cum, drug-like saliva, big ol' horse cock, literally equine dick, belly bulge, armpit kink, scent kink, musk, underwear sniffing, kidnapping, general yandere behavior, temporarily mind-broken reader, religious themes, dehydration, forced feminization, reader has minor injuries not inflicted by yandere) Word Count: 2.2k

In the never-ending war against the legions of Hell, the middle ground where most of the fighting was done was on Earth. However, the heavenly forces sometimes deemed an incursion into Hell necessary.

You had been sent on a mission to scout ahead and take note of the coming forces.

Angels were stronger than most demons. Even so, almost your entire squad had been wiped out in a bloody ambush. The other survivors had used the one holy recall scroll to teleport themselves back to heaven.

Each squad sent into Hell is given one and only one. They probably thought you were dead already when they left still with demons in pursuit. They had to act quickly. You didn't blame them. Without it, you were trapped here. Unless you could find a demon's gate that could take you to Earth. That's how the demons made it out. But there would certainly be legions of the enemy at such places.

You had managed to escape the slaughter of your scouting party, but you were injured. Your wings had been hurt as had your leg. Relatively minor injuries, but in a hostile land, they certainly made things more difficult.

To be honest, you weren't exactly the strongest angel on a good day. This was not a good day.

You limped along the rocky landscape, using your holy staff as a walking stick. You stayed low to remain unseen by any wandering beasts or demons as you made your way out of the fiery wastelands and into the white sand desert. Hell wasn't all fire and brimstone. It was the most popular depiction of Hell's most dramatic landscape, but there were other biomes, too. Now you were getting into one of the many deserts Hell had to offer.

It was cooler than the burning wastes, but by no means was it comfortable. Water and food were scarce, the white sands were nearly blinding, and the swirling black sky was a constant ominous reminder that you were not safe.

You could go a long time without food and water. You wouldn't die without them, but after a while, you would wither up and be unable to move. You'd go into a kind of stasis. And then you'd be defenseless.

For days, you wandered. At least... you thought it was days. Despite the perpetually black sky the sun never set. Your lips were chapped, your wounds aching, hope dying in your heart. You had to find an oasis to rest at. Build up your strength. From the limited maps you had seen of this region of Hell there should be one at the heart of this desert, but with your wings and legs messed up it would still take many days still to reach it.

There were several more days of endless marching, hobbling on your injured leg that was getting harder and harder to walk on before you finally saw the oasis in the distance. You tried your best to approach stealthily, going behind dunes and sand drifts whenever possible, and wrapping your white wings around you to provide some measure of camouflage with the white sands. As you got near, it disappeared in a puff of smoke. And out of the smoke stood a demon. It was a trap.

Dark brownish red skin, sharp horns, a tail flicking back and forth, and he stood at least a foot taller than you. He was very muscular, his sweat coated abs glistened in the sunlight. He wore nothing. His long horse-like cock and big nuts swinging freely below a thick patch of black pubic hair.

You caught yourself accidentally staring and looked away quickly before readying your divine staff for a fight. Which was really hard, since you could barely stand without it.

The demon winked and chuckled.

"Do you like it~ There's no harm in just looking, you know?"

He closed the distance between the two of you in a flash and knocked the staff away in one fluid motion.

"As a matter of fact, you can do a lot more than look, little bird. My cum would make you feel so much better~ That oasis you're looking for is still miles away."

"Uh, thanks for the kind offer, but I think I will pass. I'll just be on my way and out of your hair."

You stepped back slowly, hoping to make it to your staff so you could maybe limp away and give him a good smack if he followed. But he wasn't giving you the chance.

"Oh, but you're dehydrated!"

He took a few steps forward until there were mere inches between you. He put a hand on your cheek and thumbed at your chapped lips gently.

"Your lips are all dry. Let me help~"

Before you could decline, he held your head in place and leaned down. He traced and prodded your sore lips with his long slick tongue.

You tried to push him away but couldn't do much in your current condition. And the saliva was having some kind of effect on you.

He slipped his tongue past your lips and kissed you greedily.

Your head grew fuzzy and your legs weak. His spit was some type of drug. It felt... nice...

You resisted it as long as you could, even resorting to biting his tongue, but he ignored it and continued. Moments later, you slumped against him, your head on his muscular chest. The only thought in your head as you passed out was how nice this man in front of you smelled.

He picked you up gently and carried you bridal style. It was fitting since you were certainly his little bride now, as far as he was concerned. He placed a chaste kiss on the top of your head and then started walking towards the underground dwelling he called home.

When you woke up, your wounds had been healed, and you felt a lot better. Though you were still dizzy. There was an intoxicating smell all around you and you didn't recognize your surroundings.

Your first instinct was to jump up and flee, but you were immediately pulled back down and placed in the lap of your demonic captor. His monstrous cock poking out between your thighs.

You looked down and realized you were naked, your soft cock and balls laying on his unnaturally warm prick.

"Let me go!" You elbowed him as hard as you could but he must have made sure you stayed drugged because you couldn't muster up any strength to put into your struggle.

"Let you go? After all the trouble I have gone through to romance you?"

"Romance!? You kidnapped me and I don't even know who the fuck you are, creep!!"

You struggled with renewed anger, smacking your head backwards, elbowing, kicking, and scratching. All amounting to you gasping for breath, tired, while he chuckled at the attempt.

"You're in Hell! I could have raped you and left you in the sand to be killed by any passing monster and that still would have been considered romance."

He placed his large hands on your legs with his thumbs drawing lazy circles on your thighs.

"I saved you from the desert, treated your wounds, let you rest for days, fed you, gave you water, and bathed you. That is damn romantic!"

He started assaulting your neck with little licks and kisses, enjoying how you squirmed in protest while sitting on his equine cock.

"As for the name that you'll be moaning when I bury myself in you, it's Tevrik."

"My friends will come back for me. You should save yourself the trouble and let me go now!"

This was a bluff, of course. They almost certainly thought you were dead. You didn't know if your deception would work, but you didn't expect him to respond with a cackle.

"No, they won't! Rathiel won't let em!"

A shudder went through you at the mention of your boss who had ordered the mission into Hell.

"He's one of Hell's best agents. Gives us lots of intel."

You were dumbfounded and fell silent a moment before regaining your composure and replying angrily.

"Lies from a worthless demon!"

"I'd never lie to you, sweetie~"

He trailed his hands up and down your thighs as he continued.

"How else did we set up that ambush? Rathiel sent you to us. We needed more angel blood. But not yours."

Your blood ran cold as he began grinding into you.

"I picked you out from a bunch of employee profiles just to be my little princess. I'm half angel myself and wanted an angel bride~ We'll rule this region of Hell together!"

He repositioned you on his lap to face towards him as his flared cock grew fully erect.

"You weren't supposed to be hurt in the battle. I'm so sorry about that. I killed the demons who did it."

You didn't even struggle when he positioned you above his dick, hot precum smearing your hole as his cock pressed against it. The betrayal drained the fight from you.

"After the battle, I just followed you for a bit, so you'd be tired. And now here you are. With me."

The precum and smell of his arousal were making you dizzier. The words he spoke brought tears from your eyes.

"Awe, don't cry. After we have some alone time to adjust, I'll take you to the palace~ You'll be royalty!"

You winced as his cock entered you, expecting pain. Surprisingly, there was none. Instead it was like every cell in your body was filled with pleasure.

This couldn't be right. You had to escape. Sex with a demon was a very taboo thing.

You started struggling but Tevrik held you still.

"Shhh, I know you're upset. But just let it happen, okay? I'll make you feel so good."

As his precum continued to dribble out of his dick and into you and as the betrayal by your trusted higher up sank in you once more lost the will to fight.

Why were you fighting anyway? This cock felt so nice. And he was so kind and romantic to go through all this trouble to get you away from your evil boss right?

You relaxed and lay against his chest as he pumped into you slowly. You looked up at him and realized he had your underwear in his hand and was holding it up to his nose sniffing the crotch.

"You smell so good, girly. So good. You feel good too."

"You smell nice too!" Then your brain caught up with the rest of what he had said.

"A-and I'm not a g-girl." Too focused on your pleasure to really care.

"Nah, you're too pretty to be a man. Too weak too. Plus you have this tight little cunt hugging my dick. You're definitely a girly~"

"O-okay."

You blushed because he called you pretty. You supposed he made a lot of sense. You were clearly a girl. You wondered why you didn't know that sooner. It felt right.

He chuckled warmly as you drooled on his chest and made cute little gasps and moans. He couldn't wait until you were moaning his name.

Tevrik didn't pound you, he didn't want to hurt his sweet baby bird. Instead he just rocked his hips into you and enjoyed the effect it had on you.

After you started making those delicious noises his demonic precum began to make you super cuddly. He continued to breed your tight hole while you started nuzzling him and leaving gentle kisses on his chest. He began grinding into you a bit faster and more forcefully, his cock clearly outlined through your belly as it nestled into you as deeply as he could get it.

"Fuck babe, I'm about to bust."

But you came before he did it. Your cock spilling silvery angelic seed on his belly as you called his name and clung to him tightly. The combined sight of you cumming while impaled by his dick while at the same time calling his name just like you promised he would sent Tevrik over the edge. His large balls filled your tummy with hot demon cum. It made you feel warm and fluttery and loved. Like you could feel his emotions through his seed.

You were so tired from all the emotion and sex that you passed out on top of him, nuzzling your nose into the comforting scent of his armpit as you clung to him.

Tevrik smiled. You were just so precious. Sadly, he knew you'd regress back into struggling against him. But that was okay. He would keep reminding you how the angels threw you away and keep breeding you full of his drug-like semen. Soon you'd crave it. He'd bed you constantly until you needed it. And then breed you as much as you wanted him to after that.

Yeah, it would take a while. But he had all the time in the universe.

Tevrik sighed with content and closed his eyes, taking your underwear and putting it back up to his nose while he relaxed with his cock still deep inside you.

You may have been in Hell, but Tevrik was in Heaven.

[starry-boyz]

svsss modern au where shen jiu becomes self aware and realizes that they’re in a romcom world.

it’s not a slow realization, more of a sudden awareness and then suddenly everything around him made so much more sense. all of the kissing couples he’s had to walk around on rainy days, the dramatic declarations of love that would occur in the office, the sheer number of bumbling, new interns who would trip and drop documents at the feet of important senior workers, etc.

shen jiu has a crisis about this for approximately two days before slapping himself and being reassured about the fact that he is, in fact, not romcom couple potential. he’s what some have called “a bitch from hell” and he is proud of it. his family is incredibly wealthy yet thankfully completely clean in all the ways that matter. he will be safe from the romcom machinations that his world runs on even if it tries to drag him in kicking and screaming. and he went on with his days content with his distance from it all.

he did not account for shen yuan—his dearest, idiot twin brother.

he should have accounted for shen yuan.

because his brother, lovable despite how much of a bumbling, foul mouthed fool he was, was the perfect material for a modern day romcom. and perhaps shen jiu was an even bigger fool for not realizing it until danger was imminent.

and then liu qingge, famous mma fighter, his nemesis, meets shen yuan and shen jiu just barely holds himself back from ripping the man’s throat out with a combination of his teeth and sheer force of will when the brute’s face erupts into a red flush the moment he makes eye contact with shen yuan.

the shrill, inhuman noise that escaped his mouth in that moment was enough of a distraction for him to be able to grab shen yuan and drag them both to the relative safety of his apartment.

it’s then that shen jiu swears to never let shen yuan get dragged into the machinations of this romcom world, especially not when it wants to bind his twin to that idiot of a brute known as liu qingge.

it really is a shame that the world never listened to shen jiu’s wishes.

because no matter how much he tries to keep the two of them apart from one another, liu qingge somehow ends up meeting with shen yuan at least once a day. it��s maddening enough to drive shen jiu into a stress induced tea-brewing session that shen yuan said tasted bitter—border-lining on burnt.

it’s only when shen yuan starts blushing around the brute as well that shen jiu decides that extreme measures needs to be taken. it comes in the form of the trio of high schoolers that shen yuan has been tutoring: ming fan, ning yingying, and luo binghe.

after much persuasion and bribery (mostly bribery) the three agreed to join him in his mission to keep the two apart.

only, any attempt at foiling the budding romance only seems to spur it on more??? the world seems to be twisting their attempted sabotage into a romantic gesture/opportunity???

putting random, disgusting ingredients in the coffee that shen yuan made for liu qingge? shen yuan trips, spills it on the brute’s shirt, and it leads to them going on a semi-date where shen yuan buys the brute a new shirt.

replacing the rare book that liu qingge was going to gift to shen yuan with fifty shades of grey? shen yuan was thrilled to be able to tear it apart with words and later on with an actual fucking sword that liu qingge just had apparently.

the trio of minions he’s recruited had apparently had their own romcom situations happening in the background with him being none the wiser. (luo binghe attached himself ferociously to an older student named gongyi xiao, ming fan found himself in a rivals-to-lovers situation with liu qingge’s apprentice yang yixuan, and ning yingying found herself being seduced by liu qingge’s sister because of course she did)

shen jiu feels like he’s going insane.

and amongst all of this insanity, it genuinely threw shen jiu for a loop when he found his heart begin to thump when he reunites with his childhood friend, yue qi, who went from a cute and dependable older friend to a handsome man and oh fuck—

[standfucker]

Post-Injury Hurt/Comfort Series - Law, Shanks, Mihawk, Rosinante, Blackbeard

Characters: Law, Shanks, Mihawk, Rosinante, Blackbeard

Reader: GN (afab in Rosi's)

Word Count: 5.7k

CW: blood, gore, graphic depictions of injury, stitches, sepsis

Summary: Continuing the series. Blackbeard's is more of a small bonus drabble that came to me, so his doesn't meet the 1k minimum I was shooting for in these. (And Rosi's went way over...)

Ao3 Link

Law

Your opponent is quicker than you're used to. As a cat mink, his reflexes are far better than yours. However, he fights unarmed while you use twin short swords, so you're able to keep some distance between you and even the playing field.

You tilt your head left to avoid his swipe, claws barely missing your face. Acting quickly, you return with a jab that pierces his armor and stabs into his shoulder. He hisses in pain and you grin–that's one arm he can't use anymore.

Your moment of confidence makes you slip up. Focused on the movement of his remaining arm, you're taken by surprise when he suddenly kicks one of your swords right out of your hand. He hasn’t used kicks at all until now, likely to catch you off-guard like this. Before you can recover, he follows up by thrusting his claws into your chest, digging in and unleashing electricity into your body.

Law looks over just in time to see you drop like a stone. “Y/n-ya!” he shouts–but you're unresponsive. He turns to Bepo, fighting by his side. “Bepo! Count to two, then kick as hard as you can where I am!”

Bepo, wisened to Law’s tactics, nods. “Aye-aye!”

Law flexes his fingers. “Room!”

The sphere of his power expands wide to cover the battlefield. He swaps places with the cat mink, hearing it yowl a moment later as Bepo’s foot connects with its gut. Grabbing your arm, he creates one more room from where he is and teleports you both to its perimeter, a safe distance from the fight. Aside from some bloody claw marks, he can't see major injuries.

“Scan!” Law calls, voice tinged with panic as his ability checks your vitals. To his horror, the scan of your body shows your heart has stopped entirely, and his own seems to follow suit. He quickly removes your heart from your body, holding it in his hand. Focusing, he runs his own electric current through your heart in a swift, measured jolt.

The muscle twitches once and remains still.

“No, no, come on.” Law tries again. Zap. No response. “Don’t you do this.” He tries again. Zap. And again, no response. “Come back.” Zap. Your heart is still.

This time, he uses both hands and runs a higher voltage, shouting, “Come back right now!” Your heart jumps–then, finally, starts to beat. The relief is almost nauseating.

Clutching your heart to his chest with one hand, Law tilts your jaw open with his other hand and seals his mouth over yours, delivering rescue breaths until he feels you start to breathe on your own.

Slowly, your eyes open, your breaths shallow but even. He's hovering right over your head, looking into your eyes. “Law?”

“Just stay still.” He runs another scan, making sure everything's running normally.

You try to get up, fighting the sluggishness of your body. “The fight–”

“It’s still going. Lie down.” Law pushes your shoulder, forcing you to recline.

“Then you need to go help them.”

“The rest of the crew has it handled. I'm not leaving you.”

You’re not sure what happened–everything went black while you were fighting–but whatever it was, it must have been bad if Law’s saying that. Still, you’re eager to rejoin the battle. “Am I going to die?” you ask stubbornly as you try to sit up again.

“Don't be ridiculous. I'd never let that happen. Lie down, Y/n-ya.”

Law doesn't let you fight. He doesn’t even let you get up, not until he's checked everything–blood pressure, oxygen level, potential blood clots, your ability to follow commands–and even then, he doesn't give you your heart back, stating he needs to keep an eye on it for a while “just in case.” The battle ends in victory, and you walk back to the crew with a square hole in your chest.

You don't know much about electric shock effects, but you suppose it's okay to make sure your heart hasn't been thrown out of rhythm. It is weird to go about your day with the hole in your body. And it’s weird to feel Law’s fingers around your heart. It’s difficult to describe–a sort of warm, sensitive, almost ticklish physical contact that you feel within your chest, despite it being outside your body. Every time Law picks up your heart, you’re aware. You don’t know where he keeps it, but it must be somewhere on his person; you feel it at random throughout the day or as you’re laying in bed at night. You can infer he stays up late, as you often fall asleep to the sensation of him holding it in his hand. 

Throughout all those days, you’ve never felt more secure, never slept more soundly than when you do knowing he’s keeping your very heart safe by his side.

Every day Law does another exam, taking the time to run a scan on your body. It seems a bit excessive to you, but you’re not about to tell him that. You’re just grateful for the attention, truth be told. You and Law have been close for a while now, even exchanging some fond words in the rare moments you’re alone, but neither of you have the courage to risk damaging your friendship. But having him literally hold onto your heart makes you feel linked to him in a way you never have before, and it’s driving you insane.

“All clear?” you ask as Law finishes another scan.

“Yes, you look good,” he says, making your cheeks warm at the phrasing, “though, occasionally your heart rate picks up when you’re at a resting state. I haven’t figured out why yet, but I will.” He holds up your heart in front of his face, scratching his beard with his other hand as he thinks. “Like now.”

That answer is fairly obvious to you, and entirely his fault. Watching him inspect your heart so closely makes you oddly nervous. And he puts his hands on you during these exams, too, feeling lymph nodes on your neck and instructing you to breathe in and out while he listens to your lungs. What are you supposed to do? You can’t help it. It’s involuntary.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

Well, there was a hole where your heart should be that only he could fill. But you don’t say that. You just mumble, “I feel fine.”

“You always say that.”

“It’s always true.” Aside from some fatigue in the beginning, you’ve otherwise been back to normal. “What do you think? Can I have it back?”

He thinks for a second. “Alright, one more day, then, just to be safe. Do you mind?”

“No, I don’t,” you say. “It’s weirdly comforting, to be honest.”

“How?” Law looks at you incredulously. “I could crush your heart in my hand right now.”

Of course that would be his perspective. The risk of trusting someone so intimately isn’t lost on him. But after all these years, you would easily trust Law with your life, so you simply shrug. “You wouldn’t break my heart, would you?”

He stiffens. Surely you didn’t mean for it to come out that way, but the way you say it–so earnestly, so innocently, looking at him with those big doe eyes of yours–he can’t help but feel a pang of longing. He desperately wants to protect you, to make right where he failed in the past. Law wants to reassure you, to bring you comfort that he hasn’t figured out how to give.

Instead, he says, “No.”

“Promise?” you ask softly.

“I promise, Y/n-ya.” Your heart beats faster in his hand. Law looks down at it, then at you, and there’s a flash of understanding in his eyes.

“Okay,” you say. If he’s finally figured it out, maybe…maybe this is your chance. “Prove it.”

“How?” He looks a bit shocked, and the way his eyes keep flitting between your heart and your face tells you that he knows exactly how. 

You’re slow in your approach, and even slower when you put your arms around his neck, giving him plenty of time to back away. He’s uncertain, frozen in place, but if he wants you to stop, he isn’t saying so.

You lean in. Law closes his eyes. Your heart beats like crazy in his hand.

You kiss him. Just a brief, soft touch of your lips.

“Law,” you breathe. “Was that okay?”

Law responds by cupping your cheek and pulling you in for another.

Afterwards, he jokes that he doesn’t want to give your heart back. But that’s alright. Truth be told, he’d stolen it a long time ago.

Shanks

You return to consciousness through a cloud of black spots in your eyes, flashing in and out of your vision like raindrops on glass. It's immediately accompanied by the piercing whine of your ears ringing. You can’t hear anything else, nor can you tell where you are. A battle…you were pretty sure there was a battle. 

The spots recede to the edges of your vision, and you can see a cloudy sky, filling with gray smoke. You’re on your back. Faintly, you can hear shouts, filtering in through the shrill whine. A few seconds later, your brain starts putting names to the voices. Yasopp, Benn, Shanks.

Your captain’s face fills your vision a moment later. Instantly, you know something is very, very wrong, because you’ve never seen Shanks look panicked before. It’s just not an emotion in his repertoire. Always cool, always collected, always joyful, until now. He’s shouting something–your name.

“–you hear me? Just hang on. Hongo’s on his way. Fuck, fuck!”

“...Shanks…” you rasp, dimly becoming aware of your body. “What happened…?”

“It’s my fault, I didn’t stop them in time, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

It’s distant, but pain starts trickling through your body. Dull, throbbing pain, everywhere. Well, almost everywhere.

“It’s okay,” you say, trying to raise your head to assess yourself.

“Don’t!” Shanks stops you with a hand on your forehead. “Don’t move.”

Gradually, you start remembering the battle. The chaos, the noise. Now, there’s no more sound except the ringing in your ears, so it must be over. You were fighting someone who specialized in explosives, that was it. That explained the hurt, and the confusion.

“I was hit,” you say slowly.

Shanks just nods, looking grim.

Benn appears on your other side, crouching next to you and frowning. You search his face for an idea of the damage, but he keeps it carefully still as he looks you up and down. Then his eyes meet Shanks’, and they exchange a look that gives you a bad feeling.

As the ringing dies down just a little and your vision clears, the pain grows. It’s distracting, more so than you’re used to, but what’s even more distracting is the particular lack of it where it should be.

“...Shanks?” you say. “I can’t feel my leg.”

His lower lip wobbles, and then his lips press together in a tight, thin line, and that’s when you know. You lift your head to try and see, but he stops you again. “Don’t look. It’s better if you don’t look.”

It’s funny–he looks like the one on the verge of falling apart. You hate to see him so distraught, so unlike himself, all his cheerful confidence vanished.

“It’s my left leg…” you say.

“Yeah...”

“That means we match.”

He smiles ruefully, tears breaking from his lash line and running free. “Yeah.”

“It’s gonna be okay,” you say, reaching for his hand.

He takes it gently. “That’s my line.”

Coping is a funny thing. You spend most of your energy post-surgery comforting Shanks. Not because he can’t handle it by himself, and not because he asks you too. It’s just easier to externalize the situation, to make it about his self-blame rather than address the gaping loss of your body.

Shanks tries to hide it from you, to not burden you, but you know him too well. Eventually, you get tired of how he drinks himself into a stupor most nights. You get tired of how your crutches irritate your armpits, tired of how you keep losing balance, tired of the phantom pains that shoot through nerves that aren’t there anymore. You snap at him. You shout. You cry that blaming himself won’t regrow your leg, so can’t he please just be there for you? You need him–you’ve always needed him–now more than ever before.

It’s an ugly, broken confession, but it finally reaches him.

Shanks pulls you in close and apologizes. His eyes are moist even though he’s not usually a crier, overwhelmed by what he’s put you through, overwhelmed that you’re finally admitting your feelings under such nightmarish conditions.

“I love you,” he whispers, over and over. “I love you.”

Healing is both easier after that, and yet harder. Now, with no distraction from your loss, you have to face it head on. It’s easier because he’s there. That he’s been through this before makes you cling to him more than you would have, surrounding yourself in the grim comforts of someone who understands. Shanks holds you tight on those nights when you scream “it’s gone,” over and over, lets you squeeze his hand when you have phantom pain, helps you shower when you can’t manage it by yourself, supports you on your first shaky steps using the prosthetic. The recovery journey is an arduous one, but you make it out the other side closer than ever before.

Years later, it’s something you can joke about without feeling that twinge of loss, especially when your crewmates call you and Shanks a complementary set. Now that you’re finally official with him and back to your full battle capacity, you can appreciate what happened to you for what it proved: that together, you and Shanks are complete.

Mihawk

You and Mihawk were opposite sides of the same coin. As different as you could be from each other, but still inexplicably connected as longtime rivals. Being warlords was the only thing you really had in common: He was a swordsman, you used guns; he sailed alone, you commanded a large crew; his colors of arms was better, your colors of observation was better. He preferred not to talk much, while you loved to egg him into trading banter. Many clashes with each other throughout the years solidified your strange, thrilling rivalry until you looked forward to the rare times you ran into each other.

Nowadays, you only really see each other during warlord meetings. So, when you were ambushed by your own crew, Mihawk was the last person you expected to save you.

He took out the four men holding you down, tossed you your pistols, and fought by your side. Your crew wasn’t weak by any means– you hand-picked them to sail with you–and had you been alone, you wouldn't have survived. With your combined strength, however, the battle was over quickly.

It surprised Mihawk, then, that you didn't stick around to bother him like you usually did. You fired a smoke round and disappeared. He figured that you were demoralized from the mutiny and didn't have it in you, but when the smoke cleared, he saw tell-tale drops of blood where you were. 

Mihawk finds you in an abandoned shed not far from the battle. You're panting, hunched down against the wall and facing away from him, a first aid kit at your feet. He's as quiet as a cat when he approaches, but naturally you sense him anyway.

“How did you find me?” you ask without looking up.

“I followed the blood trail,” he says flatly. “You should have stemmed the flow before running off.”

“I’m working on it.”

“Did you tie a tourniquet first?” he asks, and even from there he can see you roll your eyes.

“Can’t. It’s not in the right place.” You raise shaky arms to your head, fiddling with something–stitches, most likely.

“Let me see.”

You glare at him for a moment, eyes uncharacteristically hard and angry. Then you quietly relent by turning, letting him see your other side. There’s a long, deep gash going from your temple down to your neck. Still oozing blood, he can't see for sure, but estimates it's gone down to the bone. You’ve got a few crude, clumsy stitches started in the top, the needle hanging from the wire, but without being able to see what you’re doing, it’s a piss poor job.

Mihawk wordlessly approaches you and crouches down, sharp gold eyes fixed on your wound. “It needs to be redone,” he says, unsheathing Kogatana and cutting through your stitches. You don’t so much as flinch when he pulls the wires out–you wouldn’t dare in front of him, he supposes. He’d likely do the same. Maybe you were more alike than he thought. 

He takes the first aid kid from the ground and re-threads the needle, then starts to stitch your wound, pressing gauze to soak up the blood as he goes. “It's deep,” he says.

”That explains why it stings so bad,” you mumble. While you successfully resist the urge to wince, you can’t stop yourself from tearing up. “Man…”

“It could be worse. It went down to your skull, but the bone itself wasn't damaged.”

“What, are you trying to cheer me up?” You turn to look at him, but he tilts your chin back to the side and chides you to hold still.

You exhale harshly through your nose at the unpleasant sensation. “I hate needles,” you say suddenly. “I hate sharp things in general. The thought of a blade going through skin gives me the creeps.” He doesn’t respond, and you feel awkward, but you continue anyway, feeling the words tumbling out of you before you can stop them. “I’ve teased you about using swords, but the truth is, I could never.”

Mihawk doesn’t pause in his stitching, only hums. “If it’s worth anything, I’m a terrible shot.”

The corner of your lip twitches up. It does make you feel a little better, to be honest. 

You glance at the swordsman as he works. His eyes are always so much more intense up close. You used to find it unsettling, but right now, focused as they are on your wound, it just seems oddly endearing. You glance away, blinking quickly, and a tear breaks from your lash line.

When Mihawk pauses to wipe it away, it’s so fluid and unhesitating that you debate if it really happened at all. Warmth creeps into your cheeks, and you avoid looking at him.

“Hey, ‘Hawk,” you say.

“What?”

You stare at the ground carefully. “Why did you help me?”

He’s quiet for a while, perhaps thinking about his answer, perhaps just keeping up his mysterious image.

“You’re the only one who’s ever successfully shot me,” he finally says. “To think someone of your caliber would be taken out by such cowardly tactics doesn’t sit right with me.”

You let that sink in while he finishes his work, tying off the stitches and applying the bandages. It’s weird–all the times you’ve bickered, all the times you’ve fought with lethal intent, and yet you trust with all your heart that Mihawk won’t harm you right now.

You’ve let your guard down too much, you think to yourself. That’s how you missed the warning signs of your crew’s mutiny, that’s how you got injured in battle, that’s how you’ve let Mihawk get this close.

Even then, you find yourself leaning your head into his hand. He doesn’t say anything, just brushes his thumb over your cheek.

The reality of what you’re doing hits you a moment later, and you quickly stand up, only for the world to spin and your knees to buckle.

Mihawk catches you easily. “You've lost a lot of blood.”

“It'll refill,” you mumble.

“In time. You need to rest.”

“Alright, alright,” you say. His hold is so secure, you kind of never want him to let go. Damn, you have lost a lot of blood. “I owe you for this, Mihawk. Somehow I'll pay you back.”

“How about dinner?” he asks, and you’re so caught off-guard that you stare owlishly.

“H-Hey, come on, now,” you say, but Mihawk has never really been one to joke. There's a crack in your confident demeanor. “Serious?”

“Serious.” He takes your hand, raising it to his lips, and kisses your knuckles.

Rosinante

“It’s not a fucking show,” you snap at the crew, crowded around where you are in the med bay of the Numenca Flamingo. Doflamingo is bent over the wound in your side, a string attaching his finger to the bullet still inside. Corazon holds your body down.

“You gonna scream?” Diamante teases cruelly, but you roll your eyes.

“You’d like that, huh, you sick–FUCK!” you shriek at the end as Doflamingo yanks out the bullet, body jerking against Corazon's iron grip. Diamante and Trebol both chuckle like the bastards they are, but Doflamingo waves them and the rest away as he moves in to disinfect the area.

You shiver, fighting not to tear up in front of the two of them. It is of the utmost importance not to show weakness around Doflamingo. After years of dedication and rigorous work, you’ve clawed your way into a promotion from a top Donquixote Pirate to one of the people in his Family.

It’s imperative, as an undercover Marine, that you don’t lose this chance. Your job is to support Corazon. You’d rather not cry in front of him, either, but that’s more about pride than anything else.

Doflamingo traces your hip as he finishes sewing you up with his string. “Buffalo said you took the bullet for Baby 5.” 

You stiffen at his touch, an oddly soft contrast to the string that nonetheless makes you ill at ease. “Yes, Young Master.” Are you in trouble? You don’t want to act soft, but you couldn’t stand by and let a child get shot, either.

“I see,” he says, and you hold your breath. “I’d expect no less from someone I hand-picked.”

He pats your head once, then leaves the room, and relief courses through your veins alongside the adrenaline.

Corazon gives you a look you can’t decipher. He doesn’t speak to you, of course–too risky. His voice is a distant memory at this point, all the way from back when you were in training together.

A few uneventful days pass as the crew sails back to base with their spoils. The pain in your side seems to spread to right below your gut, intensifying as it goes. The wound area isn’t red or swollen, so you realize you must have gotten your period on top of everything. Great.

You’re the unlucky type that suffers from hellish, unpredictable menstruation, the pain often debilitating enough to put you out of commission until it abates. It was easier to cover up back in the Marines, feigning illness, but you wouldn’t be granted such liberties in the pirate world. You've had to fight through the agony to keep up your appearance as a tough-as-nails pirate commander. It seemed you were being tested again, as now you had to resist while under watch of the Family.

The cramps continue to get worse by the day until you’re nauseated from the pain. You end up vomiting over the side of the ship more than once, which you claim is from eating bad food. You try everything to take your focus off the pain. Meditation, breathing exercises. But for some reason, it just keeps getting worse. There’s one day where it seems to slightly abate, and you go to bed believing you’re past the worst of it, only to wake up the next day in complete, room-spinning agony. Moving makes it worse, every time you go to the bathroom or help with the ship tasks it feels like you might pass out. You can’t get comfortable no matter which position you lay in, and you sweat like crazy even though it’s cold.

You’re shaky while you help haul in ropes, thoughts so consumed by how terrible you feel that you jump when Corazon taps your shoulder. He scribbles something on his notepad, then shows it to you. 

‘You look like shit.’

“That obvious?” you ask, even as your guts and head both swim in a thick fog of pain. Corazon scribbles some more.

‘Your pain tolerance is high. This is unusual for you.’

“It’ll pass,” you respond, turning away from him. He starts writing letters on your back, something he does to make absolutely sure no one can read your conversation later through his notepad.

‘Worried.’

The guilt eats at you before he can even finish writing it. As Doflamingo’s right hand, Corazon has himself to worry about. You’re supposed to make his job easier, not be dead weight. So even though this is the worst it’s ever been, even though you just want to cry at how much it hurts, you steel yourself. You can’t crumble now. “I’ll be okay, Cora,” you dismiss.

Law stands at the foot of your hammock that night as you writhe, a curious Baby 5 next to him.

“What do you want, Law,” you grit out.

“List your primary symptoms,” Law says. You glance at him to see he’s holding a notepad and pencil. “Also, you should let me look at how your wound’s healing.”

“I don’t need the opinion of an eight year old,” you spit, the pain making you lash out. You’ve already looked at your wound, you’ve dealt with many in the past, and the area around your incision looks fine.

Law clenches his fists, irritated. “You’re being a real bitch.”

Baby 5 gasps. Law shoots her a glare that makes her whimper and hide behind your hammock. He mutters to himself as he storms out.

“Why don’t you tell someone if you’re feeling bad?” Baby 5 asks timidly once Law’s gone.

“Because,” you say, taking a deep breath to try to focus on getting the words out. “I don’t have a devil fruit. My haki abilities are rudimentary. I can’t fall behind, Baby 5. I want to be useful to the Young Master.”

“I don’t understand.”

“One day you’ll get cramps, and hopefully they won’t be this bad. But when it happens, you have to be tough and not let anyone know. It’s looked down upon by those who don’t get them. You’ll be left behind…”

“That’s gonna happen to me?” Baby 5 looks worried.

You try to reassure her that since she’s handled everything the adults have thrown at her thus far, she’ll be fine. Baby 5 doesn’t look convinced, but you don’t have it in you to care right then.

By the next day the pain is so searingly, blindingly intense that no amount of willpower can overcome it. You’re woken up by it, and this time it’s unmatched by all the previous days combined. It feels like someone’s poured molten lava into your guts. It feels like your organs are being ripped out of your body. Pressing a pillow into your gut gives you a fraction of relief, but even the slightest relief is like heaven when the pain is that bad–until you’re ripped back down, not to earth, but to hell, and it’s agony all over again.

Somehow, you manage to get out of your hammock, only to end up on your knees on the floor, holding your stomach and making pitiful noises.

Distantly, you get the sensation that Corazon is writing words on your back, but you’re so out of it that you can’t parse them.

“Need help,” you whimper, voice breaking.

Corazon sends someone to get Doflamingo, who has Law assess you. After taking your vitals and pressing on your abdomen (you’ve never considered killing a child before, but it hurts so bad that you scream) Law declares you need to be hospitalized immediately, and also says he told you so just to rub salt in the wound.

It’s a miracle that there’s an island within a few hour’s sail. You don’t remember those hours very well. It’s in and out, coming and going with the waves of pain. All you remember is Corazon, staying by your side the entire time. He keeps the crueler Family members away from you, lets you squeeze his hand for comfort, holds your hair back when you throw up. When you make it to the island, he’s the one to carry you to the hospital.

You get palpated again by the hospital doctors (your own special hell) while Corazon holds your hand, get scanned by a machine, and finally diagnosed with a severe infection that’s gone septic. Post-surgery finally has you in relief, doped up on painkillers, but very, very weak.

Recovery is its own trial. Combined with the strength of the painkillers, plus your body fighting off the infection, you see things when you close your eyes. You’re not sure if members of the Family come to visit you, or if you’re imagining they were there. The only constant is Corazon.

You wake up one night to see him hunched over in a too-small chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. Even half-awake, you get the sudden sense that he’s trying not to cry. He probably wouldn’t want to see you like that, and you’re so, so tired still, so you go back to sleep.

You dream that he speaks to you. Perhaps it’s a memory, but when you wake up, you see his silhouette in the door.

“Cora?” You smile, lifting your head, but your smile dies when you see Doflamingo stepping inside. 

“Young Master,” you say weakly. Why is he visiting you alone? What could he possibly want, aside from telling you that you were demoted?

“Baby 5 was inconsolable,” he starts, sauntering up to your bed. “Someone told her she’d suffer the same condition that you did. Then she said something strange...” He trails a hand on the railing of your bed as he walks up to your side, looming over you. “She begged us not to abandon her.” You feel your blood run cold as Doflamingo grins. “What a silly notion.”

You open your mouth to speak, but can’t find the words. He reaches out a hand to brush back your hair and cup your cheek. It takes everything in you not to flinch away.

“Could it be, perhaps, you thought I’d abandon you, Y/n?” he asks, your daunted face reflected crimson in his sunglasses.

Swallowing, you nod, and he grips your chin harshly.

“In your concern, you almost got yourself killed,” he says. “I selected you to join me for a reason. You're no good to me dead. Do you understand?”

You nod quickly, and after another terrifying moment where he stares into your eyes–maybe your soul–he finally leaves.

Corazon writes furiously later, berating you for being so dismissive of your own condition. 

‘You were on death’s door! Your CRP was over 200!’ 

“How much is it supposed to be?”

‘Zero! Fool!!’

You apologize endlessly, and more so as he helps you recover, until he gets sick of your apologies, too–but when he takes your hand, his gaze is soft.

From here on out, no more suffering alone, he writes into your palm, we fight together.

He holds your hand in both of his larger ones and, doing a quick check to make sure you’re still alone, brushes his lips against the tips of your fingers.

Suddenly you understand just how much he’s longed not to fight alone in his mission, and how important it is for you to be there. You bow your head, pull his hands so they’re at your chest, and kiss the back of one. “I understand.”

Blackbeard

Comparatively, you are the better in sheer physical strength to your opponent, but the other pirate outspeeds you. You fail to dodge back far enough from the downward stab of his dagger, and it sinks into the meat of your thigh.

You snarl in pain while he roars in triumph. His roar gets cut off as you suddenly grab his throat.

“Insect!” you snarl as you squeeze hard, grinding his windpipe to his spine. He flails, making horrid choking noises and digging his nails into your hand. There’s a brief struggle where he tries to reach the dagger in your thigh, but you grab his wrist before he can and, with a surge of armament haki, snap it in your grip. He can’t even cry out like this, just writhes around like mad, and you wait a few more seconds before the blood flow is cut off to his brain for too long, and he goes limp.

The rest of the crew watches from the seats of the bar as you snap his neck sharply before letting him drop. The other patrons of the seedy bar cheer, and cash is begrudgingly exchanged while you hobble back to the Blackbeard Pirates. Doc Q starts to look over your leg as you lean against the bar.

“Thirty seconds,” Lafitte says, looking at his pocket watch, “you said it would take you ten.”

“Shut the fuck up, Lafitte,” you warn. The pain wracking through your leg gives you no patience for his snide commentary. “Or I’ll choke you out next.”

“Promise?”

In an instant, you yank the knife out of your thigh and stab it into Lafitte’s so deep it’s almost at the hilt. He screams while Doc Q yells at you, “Don’t pull out the knife–!”

“They fucking stabbed me!” Lafitte shrieks as Blackbeard, Burgess and Auger burst out into laughter. 

“I missed your femoral on purpose,” you grumble. “Next time I won’t.”

Doc Q rushes to stem the bleeding from your thigh, and you cross your arms, trying to quell your temper. Because the Doc has to sew you up first, Lafitte will have to wait a while with that dagger sunken into his leg. It’s a fitting punishment, but you still kind of want to kill him.

Blackbeard, wearing his shitty grin, drapes his arm around your shoulders. You throw him a warning look that he ignores, as usual. Most times he does this, you push his arm away and otherwise reject him to his face. This is one of the rare times you don't. You’re still in a lot of pain, and there’s pretty much nowhere else–no one else–on this planet that you could get a comforting touch from. You let him hold you to his side, if only to abate the burning of your injury, and ever so slightly, you feel your rage boil down to a simmer.

“Better, trinket?” Blackbeard asks you, smirking.

“No,” you lie.

[theweasleytwinsownmyjuicyass]

I’ll save you a seat | L.N.

Lando Norris x reader

Summary: Lando Norris is just that kind of guy who would save you a seat <3

Warnings: fluff<3

Word count: ~1K

You're the new face at McLaren, a bit of an outsider in a world of high-speed machines and the intense camaraderie that comes with it. Shyness becomes your loyal companion as you navigate the bustling Formula 1 scene, trying to find your footing on this elite team.

Whenever there's a function, a meeting, or a casual gathering where the whole McLaren team needs to sit down and talk something out, you often find yourself standing next to the door. It's the one place where you feel most comfortable, the place that allows you to maintain a safe distance from the boisterous conversations and the daunting glances of your new colleagues.

You watch from the shadows, trying to absorb as much as you can while hoping not to draw too much attention to yourself.

But, unknown to you, someone has been watching you closely, someone who's intrigued by your quiet presence. Lando Norris, the talented and charismatic driver, has taken note of the newcomer who always seems to be on the periphery. He's decided that he wants to change that.

One day, as you enter the conference room and lean on the wall next to the door, Lando is there, making eye contact with you. You're caught off guard, and your heart races as you wonder why he's looking at you. Maybe he's not actually looking at you, so you quickly glance around, seeking the source of his attention.

"Y/n, come here, there's a free seat," Lando calls out, breaking your self-imposed isolation. His voice is friendly and inviting, and you're not sure how to react. Your heart flutters as you slowly make your way towards the empty chair beside him. Sitting down, you're enveloped in a whirlwind of emotions as the meeting begins, Lando's presence beside you comforting and disconcerting in equal measure.

And so, the cycle begins. You walk to lunch with your teammates, the bustling cafeteria filled with lively chatter and the clinking of utensils. But amid the noise, your eyes always find a pair of familiar blue ones on you, the ones belonging to Lando Norris. He spots you, gives a friendly wave to join him, and you can't help but smile.

The seat next to him is always saved for you, a silent promise of friendship and inclusion in a world that was once daunting. You exchange small talk and laughter during those moments, gradually growing closer through the little conversations you share sitting beside one another. As time goes by, you begin to feel more at ease within the McLaren family, thanks to Lando's warm gestures and kind heart.

Late one evening, after a particularly lengthy conference at the McLaren headquarters, Lando offers to drive you back home. It's a kind and unexpected gesture that catches you by surprise. As you both sit in his car, you work up the courage to ask him something that has been eating at your heart recently.

"Why do you always do that?" you inquire, your voice tinged with curiosity.

Lando glances at you, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Do what?"

"You always save me a seat," you explain, your eyes searching his for an answer. "I don't know... just because."

"Just because what?" you presses, his grip on the steering wheel tightening.

"So you wouldn't stand alone next to the door, and... yeah that" Lando hesitates to tell you the second part.

"And?" you urge, voice barely above a whisper.

His heart pounds, and he take a deep breath before continuing, "And because I like having you close to me."

"Aww, that's cute," you say with a soft, genuine smile, "I like having you close too."

Lando can't help but smile back, his feelings now exposed. He's been hoping that you'd pick up on his intentions, and your response reassures him that you feel the same way. Before you know it, you've arrived outside your house.

You're parked outside your house, the dim streetlights casting a warm glow on the two of you. Lando turns to you, his eyes filled with sincerity, your last words echoing in his mind still urges his question, "Really?"

You meet his gaze with a loving smile and a heart full of affection. "Really," you affirm, placing tender kiss on his lips, a silent promise of the love and happiness that lies ahead. After the kiss, you exit the car, your heart feeling lighter than ever, and Lando watches you with a contented smile as you walk toward your home, knowing that your relationship has just taken a wonderful new turn.

"Y/n," Lando calls out as he exits the car.

"Yes, Lando?" you respond, a sense of anticipation in your voice.

You barely have time to react before he softly pushes you against the door and kisses you passionately. It's a moment of raw emotion, the culmination of the time spent growing closer and the unspoken feelings between you.

"Will you be my girlfriend when I ask you?" Lando finally manages to say between breaths, his eyes filled with hope.

"Aren't you asking right now?" you reply with a playful smirk.

"I did not spend two months devising a plan on how to get close to you," Lando chuckles, "just to ask you to be my girlfriend at your apartment door."

You tease him, "Does this mean I'll have to wait another two months for you to come up with another brilliant plan of how to ask me to be your girlfriend?"

Lando grins and leans in, "Sweetie, you best believe I've already picked out the flowers for our wedding day. You won't wait long, I promise."

With that, he seals his promise with another sweet, heartfelt kiss, and you know that this is just the beginning of a beautiful journey together.

^^

A.N. very much inspired by the line from "Lover" by Taylor Swift, which reads "And at every table, I'll save you a seat".

P.s. Lando's race yesterday was so good! I was crying, laughing and rolling on the floor by the end of it! Glad to see him doing so well<3