#but it’s natural. it comes with the territory

[astrocafecoffee]

Venus observation 🙂

Venus in Aries is drawn to partners who aren't afraid to stand up to them or push their buttons. They don’t want someone who just agrees with everything they say. They crave that playful friction, someone who can test their limits and push them to grow. Someone who just tells them "yes" all the time will quickly lose their interest.

You might not expect it from their calm, laid-back exterior, but Venus in Taurus can get pretty possessive and jealous. Because they value security and loyalty, any threat to their relationship, real or perceived, can trigger a strong reaction. If they feel like someone is encroaching on their partner’s attention or affection, they might become a bit territorial. They might not say anything outwardly, but you'll definitely sense it.

If you can make Venus in Gemini individual laugh, you’re in! Venus in Gemini loves someone who has a quick wit and a sense of humor. They can be very attracted to people who can joke around, tell funny stories, or keep the conversation flowing with clever remarks. It’s not about traditional romantic gestures, it’s about sharing a mental connection that’s also fun and light-hearted.

Venus in Cancer often gravitates toward people who have emotional needs they can care for. If their partner is vulnerable, has some sort of emotional wound, or even needs a “shoulder to cry on,” Venus in Cancer might find themselves deeply drawn to them. They can’t help but want to nurture and protect those they love, and sometimes this leads them to take on a caretaking role that can sometimes be emotionally draining. They thrive on giving, but it’s important for them to find someone who also knows how to take care of them in return.

Venus in Leo is often stereotyped as someone who’s just interested in the thrill of the chase or loves attention from multiple sources, but once they commit, they are incredibly loyal and devoted. If they’ve decided you’re their person, they’ll have your back no matter what. They’re not interested in playing the field once they feel secure in the relationship,they’re looking for a partner who can offer the same level of passion and dedication they give.

Venus in Virgo doesn’t do unnecessary drama, fluff, or superficial romance. They’re looking for something real and grounded. Empty flattery, unrealistic ideals, or dramatic outbursts can turn them off quickly. They prefer sincerity and practicality in love,this could mean straightforward communication and avoiding overblown emotional expressions. They just want the truth, no matter how it comes.

If there’s any tension or conflict in their personal relationships, Venus in Libra is likely to step in and mediate. They hate disharmony and will do whatever it takes to restore peace and equilibrium. This can mean smoothing over arguments between friends or helping couples navigate rough patches. They’re natural peacemakers and don’t like to see anyone involved in conflict. But sometimes, this can mean they suppress their own feelings just to keep things peaceful.

Venus in Scorpio isn’t satisfied with a shallow or stagnant relationship. They want to be part of a transformative process where both partners evolve together. They are attracted to people who are willing to dive into the depths of themselves, face their fears, and grow. They often have a strong influence on their partner's emotional development and can help them uncover their true selves. This transformation can feel like a “rebirth” for both people involved.

Venus in Sagittarius is a dreamer when it comes to romance. They can often get swept away by the idea of love itself, rather than being overly focused on the practical realities. They’re optimistic about love and tend to idealize it in their minds. This can lead them to fall in love with the concept of a person or a relationship before they’ve fully gotten to know them. While they have a genuine love for exploring different types of love, they may sometimes find themselves disappointed if the reality doesn’t match their idealized vision.

For Venus in Capricorn, actions speak louder than words. They may not shower their partner with compliments or romantic declarations, but they’ll show their love through practical means. They may take care of everyday tasks, like helping with chores, running errands, or ensuring financial security for both people. They also appreciate these same actions from their partner,they want someone who is dependable, responsible, and willing to contribute to the relationship in a practical way.

People with Venus in Aquarius are generally very open-minded and accepting of others, and they want the same in return. They are non-judgmental and don’t like to impose conventional expectations on their partners. They believe in the importance of allowing each person to be their true, authentic self without restriction. In relationships, they tend to be tolerant and accepting of differences and expect their partner to respect their need for personal growth and individuality.

Romance is incredibly important to Venus in Pisces, and they are often natural romantics. They may be prone to grand, sweeping gestures of love or to envisioning a love story that’s straight out of a fairytale. Whether it's candlelit dinners, heartfelt poetry, or spontaneous acts of kindness, Venus in Pisces wants to create beautiful, memorable moments with their partner. They also enjoy being pampered with romantic gestures that make them feel special and cherished.

[mochacoda]

night d(r)ive | yjh

Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x GN!Reader

Synopsis: Jeonghan is the kind of guy who would drive 40 minutes out of his way just to pick you up, but also wouldn’t yield the last ramen at the local convenience store to you. He’s also the kind of guy people are quick to fall for, only to get crushed by his indifference for dating. As a close friend of the most sought-after man on campus, you’d like to think that you know Jeonghan well enough to predict his thoughts on romance and his territoriality over ramen. (Spoiler: You don't.)

Content: Angst, Fluff, Comfort | Friends to Lovers | College AU

Tags: short hair jeonghan, extreme pining, liking ramen as a plot device, crying, being losers for each other, insecure reader, lots of konglish w/ translations, overly indulgent kissing, no "y/n,” this is for everyone who voted jeonghan in the poll <3

Word Count: 5.8K

Masterlist

You‘d like to think that you know Yoon Jeonghan well. Surely, you do! Over the years, you‘ve come across—and committed to memory—dozens, if not hundreds, of his little oddities. You’ve witnessed his personality change with the length of his hair, and learned the hard way that cheating at card games is like second nature to him. At this point, you can recite more information about his pet rock than ramen, which is somewhat terrifying if you dwell on it for too long, considering that ramen is your favorite food. 

But despite Jeonghan’s chaotic personality, you also know that he’s incredibly smart, having sat next to him in countless college lectures and trivia events. 

Honestly, it can’t possibly be a stretch to say that you know the man too well, can't it? And at times, it feels a bit unfair that you can only reply, “oh, I know him,” when people fleetingly mention him in conversation. It hurts that you can’t clarify that you know him—that you can’t ramble on about how he made the stupidest joke to make you laugh when you were upset about your most recent midterm, or handmade you the sweetest present for your birthday, or let you choose your favorite film for movie night for the third time in a row—because no one wants to nor needs to hear about it.

But, unfortunately, that’s all you can think about these days. 

Because, unfortunately, Yoon Jeonghan is simultaneously the funniest, weirdest, kindest, and most devastatingly handsome man you’ve ever met. 

Yoon Jeonghan is the kind of guy who would drive 40 minutes out of his way just to pick you up, but also wouldn’t yield the last ramen at the local convenience store to you. Though he gives into his internal demands for petty possessiveness quite often, he cares deeply for his friends. 

He’s also the kind of guy people are quick to fall for, only to get crushed by his nonchalant but somewhat firm indifference for dating. You’ve witnessed him casually turn down far too many objectively gorgeous and incredibly intelligent people, which has convinced you that his standards are impossibly high. And if you were honest with yourself, based on the people he’d already rejected, it would be laughable for you to even think about confessing to him.

And so, as a close friend of the most sought-after man on campus, you’d like to think you know Jeonghan well enough to predict his thoughts on romance and his territoriality over ramen.

In fact, you’re sure about the ramen issue, because you’re witnessing it happen right now.

You’re staring at his smirking face in the instant food aisle of the convenience store, both of you gripping the last Neoguri cup like it’s a trophy.

“You gotta learn patience,” Jeonghan tuts, his lips upturned infuriatingly at one corner. 

“No, you should learn patience. 손 빼, [Take your hand off,]” you demand, grasping the cup tighter.

“싫은데? [Don’t wanna,]” he says in a sing-song voice, raising his chin in defiance.

The ramen cup creaks slightly under the pressure of your combined grip, and a terrible thought forms in your head. Your hand is sandwiched between his hand and the cup, making you feel the heat radiating from his body. It’s something you’re afraid you could get used to. 

You narrow your eyes, targeting his ridiculous, perfect lazy smile. “Take it off while I’m being nice.”

“Nah,” he replies immediately, smiling wider, his tongue sliding to the right. 

Your heart lurches at the sight. 

“치사하게 진짜 이럴 거야? [You’re so petty, are you really going to be like this?]” You chew on your bottom lip, eyes flitting between his face and his hand. 

Jeonghan tilts his head slightly, his dark eyes sharp and steady on yours. He’s not really looking at the ramen anymore, and the intensity of his gaze makes your cheeks feel like they’re on fire.

“내가 여기서 이 옷을 입고 있는데, [I’m wearing these clothes here,]” he says, using his free hand to pinch the fabric of the expensive suit he always wears at his internship. “굳이 라면 하나 때문에 나랑 싸운다고? 그냥 빨리 가자, 음? [You’re really gonna fight with me over just one ramen cup? Let’s just go now, hmm?]”

You press your lips together and jut your chin in defiance. 

He sighs dramatically, shaking his head. His shaggy, dark hair flows with it, and you can’t help but think that he looks princely like this, standing in the middle of this convenience store with his stupidly gorgeous face, and that dumb suit and tie. 

“양보해. [Give it up.] I’ll give you whatever you want,” he says, his voice dipping lower. It feels less like an offer and more like a taunt, a challenge. His tone sends a small shiver through you, and for a second, you’re not sure if he’s teasing or serious.

You have to take a slow, deep breath to calm yourself down before even considering what to say next. You’re grateful for the ride (and his company), of course, but that doesn’t mean he can steal your rightful claim under your nose, in the same casual manner he has when letting one of his fans down. 

You’ve always given into him. Because he means everything to you, of course. 

But you’ve had enough of letting him have his way so easily, not with your precious ramen at risk.

You boldly step closer to him, cutting the distance between the two of you in half. You’re close enough to see your reflection in his eyes, now. 

“I’m not letting go, 하니 [Hannie].” You firmly shake your head. You wouldn’t let him win this time. “I don’t want anything but this,” you add, stubbornly.

Tugging hard, you try to pull the cup toward you, but it frustratingly remains stuck on the shelf between the two of you. Looking back up, you see that he isn’t even straining to keep the ramen in place! You frown, wondering when your best friend got so strong.

He leans in just a fraction closer. “Keep trying,” he murmurs, and he’s so close that you can feel his warm breath tickling your face. 

The world narrows to Jeonghan, and the faint scent of the cologne he only wears on weekends. It’s dizzying.

“야아아! [Hey!] I was here first!” you weakly defend, voice embarrassingly squeaky.

And then Jeonghan does something that completely short-circuits your brain.

His free hand lifts and brushes your hair away to your back, before resting on the divot between your neck and collarbone, where his thumb caresses the side of your neck. Feather-light, his touch is gentle, and his fingers are impossibly warm, a stark contrast to this slightly chilly convenience store. You just about choke on your surprise, your heart kicking into overdrive at the sheer intimacy of the gesture. 

God, how is it that you never get a rest day with Jeonghan? How is it that he’s always flirting, always disregarding the boundaries of platonic and romantic love, always making you confused? And how is it that you just let it happen, that you just take whatever affection he gives you? How is it that you’re drawn into his dangerous touch like a moth to a flame? Except that analogy doesn’t really work, because at least moths don’t know that they’re in danger when they reach fire—you know what you’re getting into, and you know all too well that Jeonghan will never be yours. 

“Please?” he whispers.

Your breath hitches, suddenly aware that even for your overly-touchy friend, this level of skinship is extreme. 

Does he know? Has he found out that you’re in love with him, that you’ve been keeping this ungodly secret from him for far too long? Does he know that every time he lets someone down, that every time he complains to you about people confessing and crying over him, you give him superficial laughs as you swallow your own feelings? 

Does he know that you feel like sinking into the ground every time he entertains a random girl flirting with him, and that every time he crosses boundaries with you, it hammers in the fact that he thinks you’re a joke? 

Does he know that you’ve spent over a year trying to convince yourself that you don’t have feelings for him, only to fail miserably, because there is no such thing as cutting Yoon Jeonghan out of your life, because he makes you feel so, so alive? 

He must know. He must be making fun of you, now.

Your eyes widen, frantically searching his face for an ounce of malice. And you expect to see the look he always has when shredding the hearts of the brave people who confess to him, the face he makes when he casually tells someone that he doesn’t feel the same way. You expect to see an almost-cruel, blank stare paired with apologetic lips pressed together. 

You expect him to crush your heart. 

But instead, he’s staring at you with a gaze so, so, very soft, you wonder if you’ve hallucinated it. Shining eyes, raised eyebrows, mouth parted—he looks devastatingly beautiful. 

You can’t even bring yourself to blink, afraid that it might disappear before you can commit it to memory.

Technically, he’s looked like this before—you’ve seen it a handful of times on movie nights when you leaned against his shoulder, sleepily rambling about the bad decisions the main character had made. You’ve always figured that it was just the face he made when he was running on eight percent battery, tired and only half-registering the words coming out of your mouth. 

But now, seeing this version of Jeonghan out of its usual context, your heart stops. 

Your grip slackens.

In an instant, Jeonghan takes advantage of your daze. He snatches the ramen, links his arm through yours, and drags you to the counter. Your feet stumble, but his hold on you is firm, keeping you stable throughout the entire sudden exchange. He sets a bill on the counter, and then you’re being ushered out of the convenience store. 

The freezing cold bites at your cheeks as you stand in a haze of confusion by the passenger seat of Jeonghan’s car, unable to do anything but just watch as he starts the engine and unlocks the door. He stares at you through the window, waiting. 

If you could move a muscle on your face, you’d furrow your brows, wondering what he’s waiting for. But you’re still frozen, and before you can really think about it, Jeonghan gets tired of waiting. 

He gets out of the car and walks over to you, squeezing your shoulders as he shifts you a little to the left. Withdrawing one of his hands from your shoulders, he opens the door, and then maneuvers you inside, using the same hand to cover the top frame of the door. You bump your forehead slightly against it, and he buckles you into the passenger seat—all without a word.

When you blink owlishly at him, he just ruffles your hair and shuts the door carefully, then walks over to the driver’s side. 

Dazed, you literally have nothing to say. 

When Jeonghan gets back into the car, he looks over at you with an unreadable gaze, then reaches his hand over the console to you, this time holding an object out. Your eyes flicker downward, then shoot up at him immediately.

The ramen?

You squint at his outstretched hand, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. 

Jeonghan never yields. 

“Take it,” he says simply, airily, as if his giving up was obvious all along.

You hesitate, finger lightly tracing the top of the cup. 

“Come on,” he insists, his eyes still intensely trained on yours. “I… it was always yours.”

Your fingers close over the cup, brushing his hand. He exhales softly, the corners of his lips twitching.

Averting your eyes from him and his strange actions, you drop the ramen in your lap, then settle for staring outside the window at the night sky, finding it unbearable to look at him. Drumming your fingers against the border of the window, you get lost in thought. You’re not sure you can handle it if Jeonghan tries to flirt with you again. Every time he does it, it just hammers in the crushing idea that you’re nothing but a friend to him. That you’re just someone to practice on while he waits for the goddess of his dreams to appear, or something.

And then a strange thought occurs to you. A silly thought, really. When Jeonghan said that the ramen was always yours, he didn’t use the “ih” sound that the word “it” has. No, he used the pronoun “I” first, before correcting himself. A faint, pitiful smile makes its way to your lips as your heart pangs. 

Just what would you give to hear him say “I was always yours” someday?

Oh, maybe everything. 

────୨ৎ────

The gentle hum of the car engine fills the silence from the lack of conversation between the two of you. The moon and the stars are beautiful tonight, and you’re content with staring at them instead of the man driving the car. You prop your head up with your elbow against the window, closing your eyes with every lull of the engine. If Jeonghan ever looked over at you at a red light, you wouldn’t know, preoccupied with pretending to be asleep. 

When you feel the car come to a complete stop, you’re still feigning sleep, but you can’t help but furrow your eyebrows slightly. Surely, 40 minutes haven’t already passed? It seems way too soon. Had you actually dozed off at some point between staring out the window and faking sleep?

You peek one eye open, only to startle at Jeonghan’s gaze trained on you already, immediately opening the other. He seems completely at ease, with one hand gripping the steering wheel and the other resting on the gear shift. He stretches his fingers, accentuating the veins on his forearms, and you have to avert your eyes for a moment. 

“잘 잤니? [Sleep well?]” he asks casually. 

You look back at him, and see a strand of his dark hair fall into his eyes. Fingers twitching, you fight the urge to brush it behind his ear. 

You answer him with a nod and flush, wondering if he could tell you were acting the entire time. Hands itching for something to do, you fiddle with your seatbelt.

“야, 나 좀 보고 말해봐, 음? [Hey, can’t you look at me and talk, hmm?]”

You glance at Jeonghan out of the corner of your eye, then shy away again. He looks too good right now, too much like a doting boyfriend. You pick at a loose thread from the bottom hem of your shirt.

“자꾸 나를 안 보니까 섭섭하네. [You keep not looking at me, I’m sad.]”

You faintly laugh. In all your years of knowing the man, you’ve yet to see Yoon Jeonghan truly sad. He’s always, always composed. He never says anything without thinking about it first, and he doesn’t have to lift a single finger that he doesn’t want to, because he knows that people will jump just to fall at his feet. It’s funny that Jeonghan now just assumes that with a few pretty words, he’ll get his way. 

But your resentment is growing. It started with the ramen, and built up with how he won at the end of the fight. And it peaked when he gloated under the guise of kindly yielding the cup to you, leaving you stranded in your confusion, leaving you to sort out your racing mind and heart. What’s worse is, he has a history of doing this to you. But you never learn. Because he also has a history of giving the best, warmest, longest hugs. And he tells you all the time that he wants to be with you forever, that even when you’re 80 and wrinkly, he’ll come over every day to sing duets using your karaoke machine. And he has a bad habit of staring into your eyes with so much adoration, that you mistake it for real love. 

He has a history of making you think that his flirting might actually mean something real to him. But he never confesses any feelings, because they don’t exist, and you feel the pain of being used as romantic practice all the same. 

You’ve tried to convince yourself to just accept his affections as platonic love, but it has become increasingly more difficult to ignore it. How can you, when you get a rush of serotonin from seeing how bright his smile is when he whispers an inside joke to you in the middle of your fatally boring math discussion? How can you, when Jeonghan insists on picking you up from work even though it’s a waste of time and gas for him to make the far drive here and back? Your heart has grown to accommodate, and even expect, the constant fluttering it feels in his presence. 

So, to be exact, it’s not that you feel resentment toward him—it’s resentment for your lack of a backbone when it comes to all things Yoon Jeonghan. It happens all the time; you get mad at him, and the consequences last for all of five seconds before your will caves. 

“근대, 안 섭섭하잖아, [You’re not sad, though],” you softly say, eyes now tracing the glow of the crescent moon. 

Jeonghan shifts in his seat, questioning your words. ”What? Why would you say that?”

“아니야, [No,] forget it.” You sigh, eyes falling to your hands again. Picking at a hangnail, you inhale deeply. 

“Why wouldn’t I be sad? I love talking to you.” He removes his hands from the wheel and gear shift, then reaches out for yours.

You flinch, and he freezes. 

“Hey, did I… do something wrong?” His voice shakes, suddenly sounding strained. It’s the complete opposite of how he was just three seconds ago.

You swallow thickly. No, he didn’t do anything wrong. “아니, [No,] it’s my fault.”

He frowns. “What did I do? Please, tell me. I’m sorry, whatever it is, I can fix it, I promise.” He looks at you so earnestly, your heart sinks. 

“그건 불가능해, 정한아. [That’s not possible, Jeonghan.]” The words come out slowly and breathily, as if it’s taken you half of your life force to say them. You stare out the window again, this time at the stars, and add, “We should really get back, now. Why’d you stop here, anyway?”

“I figured you didn’t eat yet,” he says carefully. “I thought you’d want to get Thai. When you’re hangry, you yell at the TV more, and I get complaints from my neighbors.”

You blink, turning your attention down to the stores lining the street rather than the night sky. Jeonghan really had driven to your favorite Thai restaurant. “Oh. I didn’t know I did that, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he replies softly. “I never liked my neighbors anyway.”

Your eyes close, remembering when one of your classmates, who happened to be his neighbor, confessed to him. He had vented to you about friends needing to understand when not to cross lines. The memory makes you smile weakly again, acknowledging how strong you’ve been for managing not to confess so far. 

Jeonghan continues, “But hey, your neighbors don’t like me, either. Remember when they banged on your door because we were singing too loud?”

You laugh this time, and it’s fleeting but it’s not forced. “언제 쯤 얘기야? [How long ago was that?] That was like two years ago.”

Jeonghan smiles. “You were wearing those teddy bear pajama pants, and I had my Cookie Monster pants on. They were like 70, and told us to stop being childish and grow up.”

“Maybe they had a point,” you say with a sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I didn’t know that you paid attention to those things,” you add offhandedly. 

“Pay attention to what?”

“You know, just… the stuff I wear, the random shit I do,” you say, picking at your split ends. 

Jeonghan’s wide eyes narrow, and you feel too hot under his intense gaze.

“Why wouldn’t I?” he asks, voice deep and tinged with something you can’t quite put a finger on. The question feels strangely charged. With what, you don’t know. 

You gnaw on your lip. 

“Answer me. Why shouldn’t I?” 

“I don’t know,” you shrug, feeling put on the spot. “I’m just your friend. Shouldn’t you be spending your energy remembering weird stuff about a girlfriend? Like a serious romantic partner, or something?”

Jeonghan groans, running a hand through his hair, before it comes down on the console with a light thud. Your eyes widen at his unexpected physical display of emotion, taking in his clenched fists and heaving chest. 

“하니? [Hannie?]” you say softly, concerned. He doesn’t normally resort to physical exertions when frustrated, probably because he doesn’t get frustrated very often at all.

Your hand reaches out to his right bicep, where you rub the muscle soothingly. 

“Now you’re calling me 하니 [Hannie] again,” he says with a marginally more relieved, deep sigh. 

You furrow your brows. “What?”

“Now you’re calling me 하니 [Hannie] again,” he repeats. “Please, don’t call me 정한 [Jeonghan]. Only 하니 [Hannie].”

“Okay?” you say tentatively, unsure where this is going.

“You know I love you, right?” he says suddenly, staring at his hands. 

You blink rapidly. “Of course. I love you, too.” He’s your best friend, but you’re probably not his best friend. 

Jeonghan jolts, looking at you directly in the eyes now. “You know I love you more, right?”

He looks a bit crazed like this, his frantic chocolate brown eyes searching deeply for something in your face. At a loss for words, you gape your mouth at him like a fish out of water. 

“I’m not sure that’s possible,” you manage to say. “I bet I love you a lot more.” 

The statement is accompanied by a rather self-deprecating laugh from you, the kind that digs deep into your heart even as you try your best to seem casual. 

“No, no,” he says, reaching with his left hand to grasp the hand you’ve been patting his right bicep with. This time, you don’t pull away. “You don’t get it. I love you.” 

What?

Your heartbeat begins to beat so loudly that the sound of it pumping overwhelms your thoughts. Your chest tightens, and you’re half-sure that you just hallucinated it.

“뭐라고? [What did you just say?]”

“사랑한다고, [That I love you,]” he chokes out, his voice thick with the one emotion you’ve been dreaming of him reciprocating. 

You gasp.

“Please,” he whispers. “Please don’t be mad at me.”

Oh.

Crestfallen, your heart drops. You pull your hand away from him. 

This must be his new way to get you to relieve your “anger.” He doesn’t actually love you romantically, he just wants you to go back to acting like you normally do. He’ll never feel the same way that you do, in the crushing way that drives you insane every day, in the way that—

“설마, 나 지금 무시하는 거야? [No way, are you ignoring me right now?]” Jeonghan’s wounded gaze strikes you like lightning. “아니면, 나 못 믿는거야? [Or, are you not believing me?]”

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. 

Is this real? A dream, maybe? The real Jeonghan would never say this. He would never, ever entertain the idea that you could ever be more than—

“내가 사랑한다고 했는데, 왜 아무 말이 없어? [I just said I love you, why won’t you say anything?]” Jeonghan’s voice quakes, and you’re taken aback by his pained, strained eyebrows and glittering eyes. 

Jeonghan’s eyes well with tears. He swallows thickly, “나… 아니야? [Am I… not it for you?]”

Your breath catches. He’s crying. Yoon Jeonghan—Yoon Jeonghan is crying? You’ve never even seen him sad, let alone crying. He’s always been untouchable, effortless in the way he teases and flirts with you, so sure of himself. So nonchalant and casual with his affection, that you’d always thought he never truly meant anything by it. But here he is, raw and vulnerable in front of you, holding his heart out with both hands—eyes rimmed red, voice breaking, mouth trembling. All because of you? 

He really means it, huh? The realization slams into you so hard you feel like you can’t breathe, let alone speak, your chest constricting like you’re having a heart attack. All those lingering touches, all these years. The way he’s always made you the center of his jokes, how he has the softest shifts in his voice when someone mentions your name—it wasn’t all a game to him? It was never just practice for someone else, for someone better? 

It was love?

God, you had been so overwhelmed with self doubt and insecurity that you’d convinced yourself that you had no chance, all while he was giving you clues through his proud affections, every day.

The man in question looks at you like you’ve just shattered his fragile heart, tears fully trailing down to his chin, now.

Feeling like your entire body has been engulfed in flames, you reach a trembling hand out past the gear shift. It trembles despite yourself as your arm extends to caress his cheek, where you carefully rub his tears away. 

Jeonghan shudders when your hand touches him, and he shuts his eyes. More tears fall.

“하니, [Hannie],” you breathe shallowly, still feeling an immense pressure in your chest. “Look at me.” When he doesn’t open his eyes, you swallow roughly. “하니, [Hannie], please?”

Stubbornly, Jeonghan keeps his eyes closed, and you shakily sigh. You want to tell him—no, you need to tell him that you love him with every fiber of your being, but you need to see his eyes to register whether he understands you. He needs to open those beautiful, brown eyes of his. 

You’ve never told him that you love him in Korean before. Something about it always felt too intimate, while “I love you” in English felt less charged. But you think he needs to hear it now.

Withdrawing your hand from his cheek, you unbuckle your seatbelt at last. Finally freed, you shift your legs until you're sitting on the back of your calves, facing the stunning, devastated man in the driver’s seat.

“하니야, [Hannie],” you say softly, his name a prayer on your lips, your face coming near his. 

You raise your hands up to tenderly brush the tears away from the soft tissue right under his eyes. Trembling, your right hand brushes a strand of hair out of his face, then rests on the back of his neck. 

Heart threatening to jump out of your chest, you hesitantly move closer, and closer, until your lips gently meet his forehead in a kiss so light, you foolishly wonder if he even feels your lips there at all.

“하니야, 사랑해. [Hannie, I love you.]” 

Jeonghan stills immediately. You can feel his hot breath catch against your neck, and you feel a shiver come down your spine. 

“I don’t want anyone else. Just you,” you say choppily, each word spilling out before you can think about what you really just said. 

When you retreat an inch or two back from his forehead, you can see that he has finally opened his eyes. 

“You mean it?” he asks, voice high-pitched in disbelief. 

Not trusting your voice, you nod three times. 

“Say it again,” he begs, his red-rimmed eyes downturned.

“사랑해, 하니야 [I love you, Hannie]. I tried so hard not to. 내 마음을 접고 다른 사람을 바라보고 싶었어. 싶었는데… [I wanted to let go of my feelings for you and search for someone else. That’s what I wanted, but…]”

Jeonghan inhales sharply. Distressed, his Adam's apple bobs up and down. Your heart aches at the sight of him so exposed, and your thumb moves to rub soothing circles by his collarbone. 

You assure him, “근데 그게 진짜 그냥 안 된거야. 도저히 너를 포기할 수 없었어. [But that really just didn’t work. There was no way I could bring myself to give you up.]”

Your fingers close to his neck, you feel Jeonghan’s pulse racing. Trying to help his heart settle down, you press another light kiss to his forehead, cradling the back of his head with your other hand. His breath shudders against your cheek. 

“마음이 하니한테 만 끌리니까, 뭐… 포기하려고 노력을 했는데 소용이 없었어. [My heart was only drawn to you, Hannie, and well… no matter how hard I tried to give you up, it was no use.]”

Jeonghan blinks up at you with watery eyes. 

“You’re it for me, 하니 [Hannie]. Okay?” Sheepish, you feel a bit embarrassed at having been so honest. 

Now that you’ve bared your heart and soul to him, you take the opportunity to really look at him, since you were distracted with telling your part for the past few minutes—and, oh. 

His pupils are so dilated, his eyes look almost black. His breathing has slowed down compared to earlier, but his fists are still clenched, like he’s holding something back. 

In a low voice, so deep that it wouldn’t have been audible if you weren’t practically pressed against him, Jeonghan finally responds to your confession. 

“You love me,” he says hesitantly, like he’s asking to confirm. 

The corners up your lip turn up, and he grins. “You love me,” he says again, only louder this time, and then he’s leaning forward into you. 

His hands find you first, clinging to your neck and waist sweetly yet firmly, like he’s afraid to let you go now that he finally has you.

When his lips meet yours, you melt into the kiss. His lips are warm, softer than you expected, moving against yours with an aching tenderness. Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt as his hands tighten around your waist, pulling you in like he’s afraid you’ll slip away.

He tilts his head slightly, deepening the kiss, and a shiver runs down your spine when his thumb brushes along the curve of your jaw. The touch is so careful, so reverent, like he’s memorizing every part of you.

Then, he pulls back just an inch—just enough for his breath to fan across your lips, his forehead resting against yours. His eyes, dark and unreadable, search yours as if needing confirmation.

"You love me? 진심이지? [You’re serious, right?]" His voice is barely above a whisper.

Your chest tightens at the sheer vulnerability in his expression. You cup his cheek, brushing your thumb against his damp skin, and nod. "사랑해, 하니야. [I love you, Hannie.] 진짜, [Really,] I always have."

A sound escapes him—somewhere between a laugh and a sigh of relief—before he leans in again, kissing you with more urgency this time. His hands tangle into your hair, fingers curling at the nape of your neck as he presses you impossibly closer. The kiss is deeper now, more certain. He parts his lips slightly, and you do the same, the heat between you growing into something undeniable.

Your hands wander—one slipping into his hair, the other trailing down his shoulder. He shudders under your touch, and you feel the tension slowly unraveling from his body, like he’s finally letting himself believe this is real.

When you finally part for air, he lets out a shaky laugh, thumb ghosting over your kiss-swollen lips. "You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this," he murmurs, his voice husky.

Your heart swells at the confession. "Actually, I think I do," you whisper back before pulling him into another kiss, this time knowing—without a doubt—that neither of you are going anywhere.

────୨ৎ──── 

“하니, [Hannie,]” you say, leaning against him on the sofa in your apartment, drawing random shapes on his chest with your right hand. “We should go on a drive again.”

“Mm, a drive?” he says, distracted by his fascination with observing your left hand, holding it like a precious gem. 

“Yeah, 바람 좀 새자 [let’s get some air]. A night drive.”

His hands stall, lips curling up at the corners. “Oh, a night drive, huh? 역사적인 거네. [How historic.]”

You bury your face in his chest. “Mmh,” you say to his shirt.

“You know, you said 사랑해 [I love you] to me for the first time on a night drive,” he says casually. His hands let go of your left hand, then make their way to your head, patting your hair gently. 

You prop your chin up on his stomach, expecting to see Jeonghan’s pure smile. But instead, he’s smirking at you. 

“You wanted me so bad.” He sighs dramatically. “What else could I do, but accept your love?”

You can’t help but smile. “I think you’re misremembering things a little, 하니 [Hannie].”

“Oh, am I?” he gasps, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. 

If he were anyone else, he’d look stupid feigning ignorance. Fortunately for you, though, he isn’t anyone else—he’s the love of your life, and he makes everything look good. 

“Ugh,” you say, eyes shining. “You look dumb, stop it.”

“You love it,” he says cheekily, arms falling from your head to wrap around you in a big hug. 

“Mmfph,” you say in response, relishing in the warmth radiating from his body. 

“Not denying it, I see,” he says. “Overwhelmed by your love for me, you dove at my poor, innocent self in the car, kissing me all over!”

“Pfft,” you laugh. “No, that was you!”

“No,” Jeonghan pouts.

“I happen to remember a little crybaby confessing first,” you say with an upside down smile, hugging him tighter.

Jeonghan’s eyes look up at the ceiling. “무슨 말인지… [I don’t know what you’re talking about…]”

“야아! [Hey!]” your hand slaps his chest lightly. “나 좀 봐봐, 음? [Look at me, hmm?]”

“싫은데? [Don’t wanna,]” he says, pouting. 

“사랑해도 안 볼 거야? 섭섭하네… [Even if I love you, you won’t look at me? I’m sad…]” you huff, burying your face into the sofa pillows instead of Jeonghan’s chest. “하니가 안 사랑해주면 난 갈 거야. [If you don’t love me I’m gonna leave.]”

Jeonghan laughs, “가긴 어딜가, 여기 너네 집이잖아. [Leave? What do you mean, leave? This is your house.]” 

Jeonghan hugs you tighter, then suddenly sits up, taking you with him. 

“사랑해, [I love you,]” he says earnestly, staring deeply into your eyes, as if he wants to dive into the depths of your iris. Your name leaves his lips fervently, like a prayer.

“사랑해, 하니야, [I love you, Hannie,]” you say back, and you mean it. 

Because Yoon Jeonghan is simultaneously the funniest, weirdest, kindest, most devastatingly handsome man you’ve ever met. And he’s yours.

Masterlist

Author's Note: here’s a big literary hug <3

Disclaimer: nothing i write is representative of how svt acts off camera, take their names as stand-ins for oc's!!

Taglist: @syluslittlecrows - @junplusone - @fragmentof-indifference - @junniesoleilkth - @woncheecks - @peachypie97 - @viciousdarlings - @11zzyy

[cvntroach5000]

Underneath it all, we're just savages

author's note: i dont know what the fuck is happening in the trailer, but thats okay. i have ideas and those ideas dont need this context, they just need to entertain me and i hope they can entertain you as well. nexos is not the actual name of the place and i dont like the codenames used for the lis in the event, so ill just be making shit up. do not take anything i say at face value, this is a self-indulgent space. also this is more of a preview than a whole fic, so please send feedback if you'd be interested to read more!

based on the new tommorows catch-22 trailer, written with the event outfit in mind, no use of y/n, reader has the command evol, if you feel like im referencing something no you do not

i think command evol reader is going to become a recurring thing on this blog, so stay tuned for more of that ig

pairing: sylus x reader (implied LaDS men x reader)

content warning: imprisonment, power imbalance, mind control, depiction of fictional mental ailments, descriptions of bodily discomfort

Becoming head warden of the Nexos Prison was not something you did out of ambition. It wasn't some kind of dream-come-true, a job and position you yearned to seize. It didn't make you feel fulfilled, it didn't bring you happiness nor satisfaction. It did ensure you had a roof over your head and food to fill your stomach, basic needs you suppose you were grateful to have taken care of.

But the reason you were here, overseeing the most dangerous wards and the most rabid prisoners was because they were yours. Madness tried to take them from you, so you followed them to the place where insanity rules to reclaim them. Once you'd succeeded, you'd leave this wretched place and take your prizes with you.

Six wards, six sectors in each. The sixth sector of every ward was your territory. Unless explicitly asked, other wardens steered clear of those places. Not that they were forbidden entry, but rather it was wise of them to stay away if they valued their lives. In each sixth sector was a lion's den, containing a single ferocious beast. People infected with insanity, distorted into abominations in body and mind.

You don't work on Sundays. This is a prison, not Hell, even if the lines seem to blur sometimes. The remaining six days, you make rounds through the wards, interrogating the predators residing in your sectors. As the number goes up, so does the level of contamination. The first one is quite sound of mind, even if his body acts out. The sixth one is wholly feral, lashing out physically and verbally, itching to tear everything near him to shreds. But it's okay, it's not like you play favorites with your charges. They are all precious in their own ways and working with them gives you purpose. The only gratification from this cursed fucking job.

Today, you're going to the Sixth Ward.

...Perhaps you do play favorites, after all.

The prison is a labyrinth, massive and intricate. Everything is made with enforced steel from Deepspace. It's cold and harsh, giving the place as little comforting energy as possible. You swear, if those who are sent here were not mad already, they'd be driven mad by the dreadful atmosphere. Nobody gives a shit to put up some pastel colored wallpaper or even a little photo of a sloth that says 'Hang in there'. Though natural light is scarce in the desolate wasteland beyond the prison gates, Nexos goes above and beyond to snuff it out and enshroud the whole facility in complete darkness. Some hallways are lit so poorly, the staff carry around lanterns to be able to navigate through them.

It only takes two hours of elavator rides, weaving through the dark halls and passing through security to arrive at your destination of the day. You climbed the chain of command so fervently when you first arrived here. You used to be nervous and unsure, worried you might mess up at your tasks. Anxious and insecure, struggling to communicate with the other staff. Now you barely notice the guards cowering and scattering as you pass by. You don't even feel a rush of adrenaline as you finally make your way to the gate to the Sixth Sector.

As the doors slide open, a long corridor comes into view. Even from the entrance you can feel the stiffling energy crackling from the cell at the end of the hallway. It's disorganised and weak, as if the air itself is calling out for help. You let slow, long steps guide you down this path you've walked hundreds of times before.

There he is.

You catch a glimpse of the shock of white hair in the darkness, an imposing figure leaning against the jailbars. Even sitting down and slouching, his hulking body looks massive. He doesn't react to the sound of your footsteps. You've made no effort to conceal your presence, yet he doesn't seem to notice you up until you are directly behind him.

His hand slams into the bars, snapping back in a sudden burst of instinct. He almost seems surprised to see you—he really didn't register your presence until now. Still, he lets out a low, breathy laugh. You can see his fangs gleaming in the faint light as he grins mischievously. His gaze seems shrouded by a dark cloud, pupils practically gleaming as they erractically scan over you.

"Well, hello there, dear supervisor. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" There's bite to his tone, yet he doesn't sound entirely sarcastic either.

You adjust your gloves and review the toolbox you have prepared outside his containment cell.

"Hello. I'm here for your routine interrogation." You announce robotically, as per protocol, "Do you know who I am?"

The prisoner exhales through his nose as though offended by your question. But he takes a moment to observe your face before slowly admitting,

"No. Should I?"

The furrow of his brow softens and he seems to genuinely rack his brain for an answer. He means to tease you, imply you're a nobody that he'd have no way of knowing. And yet he studies you carefully, searching your uniform for some kind of identifier; a name tag, ideally. Though there seems to be a thin metal plate over your right breast, he doesn't spy any words engraved in it.

"Noted." You finish preparing your tool box, setting it just outside the door of the cell.

"I will now be entering your cell. Stand in the middle of the room and raise your arms, please." You instruct him.

He snaps his teeth at you in defiance, but complies, positioning himself as you asked. A special set of chains snakes down from the ceiling, coiling around his wrists and pulling him upwards. He hisses as the links in the chain bite into his skin and he is hoisted high enough that even with his height, he's forced to stand up on his tip-toes.

You lift your hand up to the scanner on the door, activating the security lock. After authorising your identity through the biometric scanner, the bars of the door slide to the side. You leave your toolbox outside for now, slowly entering the beast's cage.

It is dreadfully barren, a single chair stationed in the corner and a pathetic, thin little mattress lying directly on the cold floor. Unfortunately, there wasn't much else that could be provided to predators of his level. They were so stripped of their senses, they barely registered the discomfort they lived in. Always pacing around like starving lions, they were restless. They didn't sleep, they simply collapsed from exhausion once the contamination couldn't force them to stay alert anymore. And they recovered fast, prowling in their cells again as soon as an hour later.

You hum in acknowledgement, stepping forward to inspect your charge. There's a few fresh bruises on him, some a ghoulish shade of purple. A couple of small scratches and one open cut. You suspect he'll heal up soon and create more wounds to replace the old ones. None of them ever had the same injuries two visits in a row. Still, this was a pretty tame entry on his record.

After circling around him, you are quite satisfied with your findings. You look at his face to find him staring back at you, analysing you with intensity to match yours. His eyes trail over the items lined at your belt; a whip, a pistol and a baton. You take the whip from its strap, caressing the leather as you do.

"Heh, I see you came here to play. Plan on beating the disobedience out of me?" He taunts you, but the crazed look in his eye tells you he's almost excited by the prospect.

You huff increduously, "My weapons are tools of self-defense."

He lets out a humorless laugh, "There is no such thing as a weapon for self-defense, sweetie. Weapons are always made with the intent to hurt, to maim. You cannot enforce peace."

You swiftly crack the whip, using it to seize the chair in the corner by one of its legs. You pull it towards yourself, halting its acceleration with your foot. You turn it to face the prisoner and sit down, crossing your legs. You like putting on little shows like this for him. They are wholly eccentric and unnecessary, but often, they help loosening a stuck cog in his brain. Something to work with later on, as you continue your routine interrogation.

"You know, you used to tell me that your body is a weapon. What about your body then? Does it, too, only know to hurt and to maim?"

He seems a little taken aback, but shakes it off quickly. He snarls, gnashing his teeth at you like a wild beast.

You sigh. You snap your fingers and the chains holding him up to the ceiling clatter to the ground. He grunts in surprise as his heels touch the ground. He rubs his sore wrists, red eyes raking over you in intrigue.

"Aren't you arrogant, letting your prey loose like that." He scoffs.

He's trying to figure out if you're stupid or if you've got an ace up your sleeve.

"Sylus."

His ears perk up at the sound of his name, so foreign yet so familiar. Nowadays, it means nothing to him. He can't even recall it himself. And yet, your voice and that name resonate with a primal part of his soul, buried under the layers of madness and contamination.

"Who—"

"Sit."

His brain barely registers the command before his body acts on it. His knees give out and he falls to the ground. It's like his nerves are on fire. More than a prisoner of this cell, he now feels imprisoned in his own body. Like a spirit, tethered to a hollow, useless shell. He can barely form thoughts as his entire being responds only to you and your instruction.

"What... Did you..."

"It's my Evol. Everyone obeys me, whether they want to or not. You are no exception."

Sylus's mind is racing a million miles per minute, yet it feels completely standstill at the same time. He's trying to comprehend this power, gauge its limits, figure out its weaknesses. Pinpoint the loophole he can exploit to escape your grasp. Through the haze over his mind, he registers how your eyes have a knowing glint in them. Like you know exactly what he's thinking, like he's an open book to you.

Can you—

"I cannot read minds, no." You clarify before he can even attempt to voice the question.

He notices the whip is gone from your hands. Instead, you play with the baton, inspecting it as you ponder your prey.

"You must be thinking 'There has to be a weakness I can use to break free'. You always loved testing the limits of my ability."

You're answering his questions, yet your words leave him more confused than before. Always? When did he ever see you use your Evol? When has he strategised with it in mind?

A sensation like an electric current runs violently through his body, making his brain tingle as though it's going to pop. It hurts to think, yet he can almost taste all the answers he seeks. They are like blood on his tongue, reeking of iron.

He strains his neck to look you in the eyes.

Your gaze is so empty, as though you are looking through him. Miles into the distance at versions of him he can't recall.

"What if I told you..."

There's a buzzing in his ears, growing louder by the second.

"That we've had this exact conversation hundreds of times before?"

The buzzing halts to a complete silence. And the prisoner slumps to the floor, unconscious.

You stare at his limp body for a moment. Then, you get out of your chair and pull up your notepad.

Another failure.

Tommorow, you're circling back to the first ward. Let's see if there's going to be any progress there.

As you fill out your report, you hear the faint sound of wind rushing through the corridor. Of course, there is no wind in Nexos Prison. Cawing echoes through the cramped space and a single mechanical crow flies into the open jail cell.

Mephisto perches on your shoulder, peering at the tablet in your hands. Then, his eyes shift over to the unconscious, white-haired man on the floor. He lets out a soft caw, flicking his metal wings. Absentmindedly, you reach up to scritch his head, even if the robotic bird can't really feel anything, only simulate the joy of being pet.

"Don't worry, Mephie. He'll return to us."

[babsworlds]

ENEMIES OR ALLIES?

pairing. Sergei Kravinoff x fem! reader.

synopsis. Kraven was done with fighting you, he wanted something more and better.

warnings. violence, poorly written fight scene, kinda giving enemies with benefits.

YOU DIDN’T KNOW WHY OR HOW YOU GOT THESE POWERS. Despite how much you wanted to know, you just couldn’t remember what happened.

You had the eyesight of a jaguar, you were fast, strong, and lethal as them. It was like you were one of them.

The world around you had transformed. Colors were sharper, movements more precise, and the smallest details didn't escape your notice. Your newfound strength and speed were exhilarating, yet unnerving. You could outrun anyone and anything, your reflexes as sharp as a predator's.

You often found yourself wondering about the origins of your abilities. Had it been an experiment gone wrong? A miraculous accident? The questions haunted you, but the answers remained elusive. Despite the uncertainty, you had come to accept these powers as a part of you, adapting to the changes and honing your skills.

There were times when the power felt like a curse, isolating you from others. But you also felt a deep connection with nature, especially with the jaguars. They became your silent mentors, guiding you through the challenges you faced.

You decided to use your powers to hunt those on the wrong side of the law. With your jaguar-like abilities, you became a force to be reckoned with. Even though many tried to get rid of you, you remained on top of the food chain. You hunted them, not the other way around.

But still, there was someone who hunted you, always lurking in the shadows. Kraven The Hunter. He wanted you to be his next trophy, and he was relentless in his pursuit. You found it annoying and really exhausting to constantly fight with him.

Kraven was a formidable adversary, his skills and cunning rivaling your own. He was determined to prove himself by capturing you, the ultimate prize in his eyes. His relentless pursuit kept you on edge, forcing you to stay one step ahead at all times.

The constant battles with Kraven took their toll on you. It was a never-ending game of cat and mouse, each encounter more challenging than the last. Despite your frustration, you knew you couldn't let your guard down. Kraven was a threat that needed to be dealt with, and you were determined to put an end to his hunt once and for all.

You walked through the tropical jungle, your home, your territory. The warm air and the mist from the waterfalls enveloped you, bringing a sense of calm and peace. You loved this place, where you felt truly alive and connected to nature.

But then, you caught a familiar scent—distinct and unwelcome. He was here. Kraven had followed you into your own home. His obsession knew no bounds.

You breathed out, rolling your eyes in exasperation. "Not again," you muttered under your breath, your muscles tensing as you prepared for another confrontation.

The dense foliage rustled, and you could hear his deliberate footsteps, a reminder that Kraven was relentless in his pursuit. He wanted to prove himself by capturing you, but this was your territory. You were the apex predator here, and you wouldn't let anyone challenge that.

With every step, you steeled yourself for the inevitable encounter, knowing that you had the skills and the instincts to outsmart and outfight him.

As you knew he was about to attack, you sprang into action, your reflexes lightning-fast. You leaped and took him down, using your strength to pin him to the ground as you straddled his lap. Your eyes blazed with intensity as you looked down at him, your voice a low, menacing growl.

"You don't hunt me," you snarled, your grip tightening.

Kraven struggled beneath you, his eyes wide with surprise and anger. He hadn't expected you to be this fierce, this relentless. But you were done with his games, done with being the prey.

“Listen, listen,” he said as he tried to overpower you, but it was no use. “This time I’m here to make you an offer,” he explained.

You raised an eyebrow, curious about what he came with this time. You let him talk. “Look, I’m the same. I have these abilities too,” he started.

Your curiosity piqued, you loosened your grip slightly but remained cautious. “Go on,” you urged, keeping a watchful eye on him.

Kraven took a deep breath. “We’re not so different, you and I. We both possess incredible abilities, and we’re both driven by some kind of instinct. Instead of constantly fighting each other, we could team up.”

You studied him, trying to gauge the sincerity in his words. “Team up? And what would that accomplish?”

“We could be unstoppable,” Kraven continued, his eyes gleaming with ambition. “Together, we could take down those who deserve it.”

You had every right not to trust him, and why would you? Trust someone who hunted you and fought you for years, never letting you rest?

But there was still something that pulled you closer to him, something you couldn't quite name. An inexplicable connection, a shared understanding of the power and the burden you both carried. Despite your reservations, you couldn't ignore the possibility that working together might lead to something greater than constant conflict.

Kraven noticed your hesitation and pressed on. "We can accomplish so much more together," he insisted. "Think of the potential, the impact we could have. We don't have to be enemies."

You didn't trust him. Every fiber of your being screamed caution as you stared him down, eyes narrowed and filled with skepticism. "What's your plan?" you spat, your voice dripping with disdain. "Pin my head between your collection of superheroes?"

Kraven's eyes flickered with a mix of frustration and earnestness. He took a step closer, his movements deliberate and cautious, as if he knew one wrong move would shatter any semblance of trust you might have. "No," he said, his tone steady but edged with desperation. "That's not my plan."

The choice heavily weighed on your mind, the enormity of it pressing down like a leaden burden. Trusting Kraven went against every instinct you had honed over years of survival and vigilance. The memories of past battles, the sleepless nights, and the constant feeling of being hunted played through your mind like a relentless loop.

But the potential for what you could achieve together lingered, tugging at the edges of your thoughts. Could you truly set aside the years of conflict and rivalry? Was there a path forward that didn't involve constant warfare?

You still tried to hold Kraven on the ground with all your strength, but as the thoughts ran through your mind, you and especially he could feel how you gradually loosened your grip.

Kraven sensed your weakening hold and seized the opportunity. With a swift and powerful move, he spun you around, reversing your positions. Now, you were the one lying under him, pinned to the ground, and you almost lost all ability to move.

“C’mon, Y/n,” he said, looking down at you. The weight of his body pressed into you, and you could feel your bones creaking under the pressure. His eyes held a mixture of frustration and a hint of pity, as if he knew you were fighting a losing battle.

Desperation surged through you as you struggled to find a way out. The pain and pressure were overwhelming, making it hard to think clearly. Your breath came in shallow gasps, and you could feel your strength waning.

“Get off me,” you managed to say through gritted teeth, your voice strained with effort.

Kraven's grip tightened, and he leaned in closer, his face inches from yours. “Why do you keep fighting?” he asked, his voice low and intense. “You know this is pointless.”

Before you could choke out a response, he continued, “If you join me, this would never happen again,” he said, referring to your current predicament as you squirmed under his weight.

His words hung in the air, heavy with implication. The idea of joining him, of aligning yourself with his methods and mission, was something you had never seriously considered. But now, with his offer laid bare before you, it felt like a tempting, albeit dangerous, option.

You could see the intensity in his eyes, the conviction that drove him. He truly believed that this was the only way to ensure your safety, to protect you from the dangers that lurked around every corner. But deep down, you knew that joining him would come with a cost—a cost you weren't sure you were willing to pay.

“Never,” you growled, defiance burning in your eyes despite the dire situation you were in. You couldn’t fathom joining someone who had been hunting you for such a significant part of your life.

“Then I think I won this long-time game,” he said, a cold smirk forming on his lips. You saw the way his muscles tensed, ready to finish you off like it was nothing.

Your mind raced, searching for any possible way to escape the impending doom. The weight of his body pressed down on you, making it difficult to breathe, let alone think clearly. But you knew you couldn’t give up now.

You saw the darkness in his eyes, and you choked on your words. Something broke in you—perhaps it was the survival instinct kicking in. “Okay, okay,” you said, trying to catch your breath. “I'll join you.”

Kraven's expression softened slightly, but there was still an edge of skepticism in his gaze. “Good,” he said, his voice steady and commanding. “I knew you'd see reason.”

You could feel a knot of tension in your stomach as you realized the weight of your decision. Joining Kraven meant aligning yourself with someone who had hunted you for years, someone whose methods and motives you didn't fully trust. But at this moment, you had no other choice.

Kraven finally released his grip, allowing you to move and breathe freely. You looked at him with masked anger and hate, your eyes burning with a promise of defiance.

Deep down, you knew you would betray him sooner or later. The thought of aligning yourself with someone like Kraven, a man who had hunted and tormented you for so long, was unbearable. You had no intention of sticking with someone who represented everything you despised.

Staying with him had its advantages, and you were determined to make the most of them. As long as you remained close to Kraven, you had the opportunity to learn his biggest fears and weaknesses, and later use them against him when the time was right.

[thecreaturecodex]

Bekkah

"Alien Cat, step 2" © Cary Narveson, accessed at their ArtStation page here

[The bekkah seems to only appear in the Creature Catalogue, not having come from a Basic D&D adventure nor being reprinted in the Mystara Monstrous Compendium later on in AD&D. It's also not entirely clear what it looks like; the text just refers to it being black, but there's a picture of a sabertooth lynx with the Big Cat entry that might be it, or might just be the giant lynx. The third eye is unique to the art I'm using, but it fits in well with me giving it greensight, inspired by the medieval bestiary lynx being able to see through solid objects. As is often the case for big cat monsters, the damage is high for a creature of its CR; I compensated by bringing down the AC.]

Bekkah CR 11 LN Magical Beast This great black cat is the size of a bear, with a short tail, long ears and oversized paws. It has eerie gray eyes, a third of which sits in the center of its forehead.

The bekkahs are supernatural black-furred felines native to the deepest jungles. They are apex predators, and do not brook intrusion into their territories by other large carnivores. Humanoid hunters are tolerated as long as they do not overhunt, and they pay the bekkah proper deference. This deference is usually in the forms of offerings of meat, although especially desperate or evil societies may do so through humanoid sacrifice. Bekkahs do not go out of their way to hunt humanoids, but are willing to consider them prey.

A bekkah’s combat style does not differ much from those of mundane big cats. They stalk prey and attack from ambush, grabbing their foes in their enormous paws and tearing with claws and teeth. The special offense of the bekkah is in its roar, which carries supernatural fear. A creature that hears a bekkah may be rooted to the spot, unable to flee and thus singled out for a brutal pounce. Bekkahs do not kill needlessly, and if attacked by a party may kill one as a warning to the rest and then retreat with the body to feed.

A bekkah is rarely found unless it wants to be; they are very difficult to track and have magical defenses against divinations. They usually lair in the densest vegetation, which they can pass through without difficulty, anywhere from tangles of roots to the canopies of large trees. Their territories are demarcated with scent marking, deep grooves carved in tree trunks, and oversized paw prints left on trails. Bekkahs are solitary, with males leaving their territories every several years in order to find a mate. Females are good mothers, raising one or two cubs for three years before they leave to find their own territories.

Bekkahs speak Sylvan, but have little to say except to fey creatures and to each other.

Bekkah CR 11 XP 12,800 LN Large magical beast Init +8; Senses darkvision 60 ft., greensight 60 ft., low-light vision, Perception +17, scent

Defense AC 23, touch 13, flat-footed 19 (-1 size, +4 Dex, +10 natural) hp 138 (12d10+72) Fort +13, Ref +12, Will +9 DR 10/magic; Immune fear, paralysis; SR 27 vs. divinations Defensive Abilities elusive

Offense Speed 50 ft. Melee 2 claws + 19 (1d10+8 plus grab), bite +19 (2d8+8) Space 10 ft.; Reach 5 ft. Special Attacks pounce, rake (2 claws +19, 1d10+8), roar

Statistics Str 27, Dex 19, Con 21, Int 6, Wis 16, Cha 16 Base Atk +12; CMB +21 (+25 grapple); CMD 35 (39 vs. trip) Feats Ability Focus (roar), Improved Critical (bite), Improved Initiative, Iron Will, Skill Focus (Stealth), Toughness Skills Acrobatics +14 (+22 when jumping), Climb +18, Perception +17, Stealth +13 (+25 in forests); Racial Modifiers +4 Acrobatics, +4 Climb, +8 Perception, +4 Stealth (+12 in forested environments) Languages Sylvan SQ woodland stride

Ecology Environment warm forests Organization solitary or pair Treasure incidental

Special Abilities Elusive (Su) A bekkah gains a +20 bonus to the DC to follow its tracks, and is treated as being under the effects of a nondetection spell as a supernatural ability. Roar (Su) As a standard action once every 1d4 rounds, a bekkah can unleash a terrible roar. All creatures within 120 feet must succeed a DC 21 Will save or be shaken and unable to move from its current space for 2d4 rounds. A creature that succeeds this save is immune to the roar of that bekkah for the next 24 hours. This is a mind-influencing fear effect, and the save DC is Charisma based. Woodland Stride (Su) A bekkah’s movement is not impeded by natural vegetation.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

The criminal, hunter and pianist

Nikolai/Sergei/Dmitri x fem!reader warning : only the fluffiest and best kisses of the three and no criminal acts on this pink day Summary : A world full of money, nature and melodies opens up for you. Three men sometimes agree and disagree because of their different sides but this day is serious because it's about love - your love info : The three sweet Kravinoff need a place, this time all three and not just sweet Dima. Have fun and see you tomorrow ;) masterlist

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

Nikolai

The head of the Kravinoff family and influential 'businessman' as seen from the outside. A man who relied on honor and influence, Nikolai ruled over territories and weapons, but even a man like him had a heart for his love.

But there was one day that he would have hardly paid attention to if he hadn't seen the small mark on her calendar. ,,So my darling wants something?” he asked, and saw her mischievous expression as only a smile could give her when she handed him a glass of wine.

During the years they were together, it was mainly about business, money, and a certain honor between them. A respect between two sides that brought him back down to earth and he fulfilled her dreams. ,,You know how much I love surprises,” she said as he led her back to the estate.

His rough hand lay at her side as she opened her eyes and looked into a newly added room of the present. ,,A studio for your art... and a sparkling something for my jewel” he announced as he reached around and she felt the cool metal on her neck.

A necklace with a diamond adorned her neck as he fulfilled another dream for her, as he bought her everything for her freedom and as he gave her a kiss when a small smile slipped onto his lips as he saw her joy and excitement. Nothing was too expensive for his love, especially not on this day.

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

Sergei

The hunter may be a myth, but he is not a myth for his love. Sergei was gone for weeks only to return full of wounds and still holding a bouquet of roses. His love for her was always his top priority.

Even if you often lost track of time out in nature, they were always there for two days or sometimes in the city. ,,In six days it's Valentine's Day,” Sergei heard his girlfriend say in amazement when she saw the marked day.

He tried not to show anything and a plan gradually took shape as he hastily replied, ,,I have to go out again, I won't be long" before grabbing his jacket and hastily disappearing from the hut. It didn't take long, but it seemed to take a few days, days in which she waited for him to come back as usual.

Until the door of the glass hut opened and she finally saw her love again, a love that was completely disheveled and tousled, ,,Sergei, thank you, nature, you are back,” she greeted him with relief and hugged him, putting her hand on his cheek and feeling the kiss when he handed her something.

Seeing that he had pressed flowers from, with a dragonfly's wings encased in metal serving as a pendant for the necklace, ,,Back with a gift for my dearest” he admitted and placed the gift around her neck as he was the one whose hand rested on her cheek and could finally give her the kiss of reunion. Even in nature, this was the day of love, especially in nature.

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

Dmitri

The blondest and gentlest of the family, someone whose compassion and gentleness brought them together in a harmonious relationship. But weeks before Valentine's Day, Dmitri reminded everyone, especially his girlfriend, how great the day would be.

After she had invited him a year earlier to design his own fashion collection with a few connections and they had both decided to adopt a chameleon in celebration of the day, he knew that this year everything would be a sign of her love.

He had made extra heart-shaped pancakes and placed fresh roses on the table. ,,A private morning concert just for you,” he announced and struck up on the in-house piano as his voice enchanted her, while the delicious pancakes and roses created the ambience. Still in their dressing gowns, they danced through the apartment, listening to the same song that had brought them together.

Holding his hand, they sat down at the piano and tried to play a piece called “Almost as good as you" she giggled and saw the smile that she also formed on his lips when she gave him a kiss and his cheeks turned a rosy hue. He was her sweet, kind Dmitri.

All day long they did something together, played the piano, went singing, danced through the clubs, visited the zoo and had a romantic dinner in his club, ,,A day that belongs only to us,” he murmured as he once again kissed her and she saw him take out a ring... this love-filled day would only become more precious.

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

@sillylittlewritings0 , @xxxibgdrgons , @starry-night-lover1 , @bruhlpng , @amecchii , @bel0ved-heretic , @tori111777 , @ange-olras , @simonsrealwife , @njunieyja , @myromanempire81

[nanami-is-nanamean]

Hi. I have seen a nerdjo fanart and went a little insane.

I specifically saw this art--

and like LJKHFGLKJSHLDFKhGKLSD i know its satosugu or some kind of self insert bUT HEAR ME OUT OKAY--

the thought of a nerdjo nanago where GOJO is the straightlaced person in the relationship while NANAMI is the "bad influence" rough and tough bad guy iS SO GOOD TO MEEEEEEE

BECAUSE LIKE--

we all collectively hc nanami as being some kind of emo punk in hs or at the very least got into some bullshit during his uni/college years when he got out of juju tech and this is just its Natural Conclusion OKAY-- IM NOT INSANE BUT I WILL ADMIT THAT I AM GOING FERAL

Because like-- imagine a college au where gojo and nanami are assigned to be each others tutors in their respective fields (gojo with physics and nanami in economics). Gojo is painting this picture of a mean, money focused economics student that would rather look at the stock market than entertain theoretical physics, a subject that wont really affect his life before meeting him

But then they actually meet each other for their study session for the first time and oh god gojos never felt this gay before-- other than the time that gojo discovered he was gay, dear LORD he didnt feel that bad before KJLGSDGDL

Because while yeah, nanami did show up rockin the stereotypical hoity toity econ student fit-- glasses, collared shirt, watch, shined shoes-- he didnt expect him to be built like a brick shithouse, okay. And even as he fell back on his tried and true method of getting back into focus (which is breaking things down using physics to figure out how they interact with the world), even that failed because he started wondering about the physics of fabrics and how they didnt rip yet from such huge rippling muscles

He does manage to get through the tutoring lesson safely and, thank god it was the physics lesson first because if he had to sit there listening to nanamis voice talk about literally anything for extended periods of time, he may turn into a puddle. As gojo packs up, both his materials and his thoughts that are steering WILDLY into inappropriate territory, he resigns himself into being the fushiguros babysitter for the next 3 weeks because cleaning up baby diapers are the fastest way to get rid of a boner and he cant be popping those everytime hes around nanami

So imagine gojos surprise when nanami hesitates a bit before he leaves. "Are you busy tonight?" "...what?" "Are you busy tonight." "Uhm..."

Is this it? Is his 1 to 2 hour long crush discovered? Is nanami actually straight, found out his gayness, and decided to destroy him????

"...I noticed you didn't have anything down on your planner. A friend of mine got sick, so now im kind of going alone to this concert." "...Oh! Aren't you gonna--" "Sell the ticket? No, its... not really a concert, its an underground diy venue. its more live music in a bar, than an actual concert you buy tickets to. you get to find a lot of small starting artists. its pretty good." "...so youre saying is, there's no ticket to sell?"

gojo's breath hitches, as his deep chuckle graces his ears. "yeah, no tickets." his face is warm, and he has no idea if it shows. nanamis eyes tear themselves away from wherever they roamed and met his again. "you wanna come?" "y-yeah! yeah sure, im down."

he really fumbled the delivery on that one, but thank god nanami seems to like clumsy people because that just widened the small smile on his face. "that's good. see you 8 down at the lawsons?" "8 at the lawsons, yeah sure okay--" a nod, a grin, and he walks off.

Triple Threat Tokyo Groupchat

Sight Impediment: @/Dr. House Kinnie @/The Ball Vorer help what should i wear to an underground bar Dr. House Kinnie: wtf happened on that tutoring session gay boi The Ball Vorer: what else dude, he was being gay Sight Impediment: YOU GUYS ARENT HELPING

[yellowsubiesdance]

that actor thing when you catch feelings for your scene partners when your characters are in a romantic relationship

[violent138]

HC that Superman goes public about his lack of American citizenship and over a hundred countries offer him either broad diplomatic immunity or honourary citizenship since he's demonstrated a willingness to help them out in times of trouble/generally is a good human being.

[deoidesign]

quick traditional piece for fun ^^

[cursed-spectre]

"Hmm, I don't think you have, actually. I can give you her contact info for the next time you visit Outpost 3. I'd say she could come here, but"—she looks around at all the Disassembly Drones—"I don't think she'd handle the territorial nature of these guys well."

Spectre walked up to the gate of Outpost 5. Her feet crunched the snow beneath them, as her wings and tail laid out, but furled in and relaxed.

(fuck it I'm taking the bait/silly/j)

Three disassembly drones immediately stood in her path.

They had menacing X's on their visors and lashed their tails, their wings unfurled.

Pretty intimidating.

"Who are you?" One of them hissed. She probably recognized him, but he didn't.

[hajihiko]

Your tag saying Mikan is gonna have it rough has me worried. She’s already been through enough! I mean they all have but especially her! I don’t even want to imagine what her haunting is like!

there's no metric for suffering so it's not like she literally has more bad than the boys. I just mean that, to me, things pertaining to childbirth and the menstrual cycle is horror in itself so it hits harder

[nutelloona]

btw is anyone else also in love with the fact that Jim, Oluwande and Archie naturally evolved into a throuple no announcement no questions asked no big deal????

[notbecauseofvictories]

nosferatu is a beautiful movie, amazing choices by everyone involved---except the main actors. they were terrible.

[aretheywlw]

welcome to aretheywlw! 💕⚢

name is pretty self-explanatory! you just vote on whether you see xyz character as sapphic/wlw or not. GROUND RULES:

do not start shit. just don't. i will nip any kind of discourse, bait, or unnecessary conflict in the bud to the best of my ability. you come at me being rude and/or accusatory for any reason? blocked, deleted. you start acting aggressive to others over the polls, or say inflammatory shit in the notes? blocked, deleted. at the end of the day this is my blog, not anyone else's, and is just one in a sea of many others like it. if you can't handle something then i advise you to block and move on as well.

submit through the askbox! all i need is the character's name and the media they are from. attaching a canon image of the character is appreciated, but not required (but please let me know if there ARE no canon images of them). adding "propaganda"/evidence for them being wlw is appreciated, but not required. anonymous asks are off to minimize assholery, but i will answer character submissions privately and won't reveal who sent submissions unless i am asked to @ you in the post.

when i say "canon", what i roughly mean is explicit, word-of-god confirmation and/or no intentional evidence to the contrary. i am fully willing to admit that the matter of "canon" can definitely get shaky, that this definition isn't perfect, and that this is more of a guideline i'm quickly setting for clarity than what reflects the entirety of my beliefs regarding character identity status

you can submit characters who are canonically any gender! it doesn't matter if they're a woman, a man, or even nonbinary in canon. note that plenty of nonbinary people are sapphic/wlw, and i trust that any submission of nonbinary characters is meant in good faith. i will not tolerate actual attempts to misgender or erase nonbinary characters.

THE ONLY EXCEPTION TO THE ABOVE is characters who are CANONICALLY transmasculine, and/or nonbinary in a way that CANONICALLY excludes womanhood (nonbinary with specifics just not given is okay, for example kris from deltarune). please don't submit characters who these apply to!

characters who are canonically lesbians or bisexual women shouldn't be submitted as every single poll option but one would become redundant. however, characters who are canonically sapphic/wlw but NOT specified as either lesbian or bisexual are more than welcome!

depending on the canon identity of the character, some options may be removed. for example, a character who is canonically sapphic/wlw will not be given a voting option that says they aren't attracted to women, and a character who is canonically transfeminine will not be given a voting option that says they aren't a woman.

if a character is NOT canonically transfeminine, you can still specify that you are submitting a transfem reading/version of the character, and i will specify this in the poll and treat that particular submission the same way i'd treat a canonically transfem one. this is different from just submitting a canonically male* character without specification, as the latter leaves room for disagreement while the former focuses entirely on the transfem version of the character - "hey, do you guys agree this character could be a wlw trans woman?" VS. "let's say this character IS a trans woman, is she wlw?" (*canonically female but not canonically transfem characters can still be submitted as transfem readings, this is just the more common scenario in my experience)

if i ever unknowingly disregard a character's canon identity in a way that breaks the rules i have set, please let me know! i never intend to do this and i will always verify as best i can, but mistakes happen.

whatever submissions ultimately go through are up to my discretion, and i don't have to justify myself. this shouldn't really be a problem, though. if i find that i don't want submissions of a particular character or series, i will simply write a clarifying post and update this point.

i am not very motivated and i have a lot to deal with and prioritize in general, so my posting schedule may be quite inconsistent. don't worry about that at all, i will always get to it eventually!

that's all for now! thank you for stopping by 🫶

sapphic divider by @aquazero! last updated: 11/14/2024

[clowndensation]

now i don't know who irelin or strife are, so far be it for me to question why they think the way they do. but. you would assume that two dalish elves would, upon hearing about the return of two of their gods (gods who fought against fen'harel, who is currently causing so much trouble), express some sort of happiness or perhaps hope at what this could mean for the future of their people. "elger'nan and ghilan'nain were NOT known to be good gods" is like. not tracking. for me. personally.