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[agilemicrosys]

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[ilium-ilia]

you're an angel // i'm a dog

kyle "gaz" garrick x fem!reader | omegaverse | alpha!gaz, omega!reader | masterlist

Chapter One: sillage

You're chewing on your pen when he enters your office. 

Teeth marks scar the tip of the soft plastic as you gnaw like a dog with a bone. You feel it give way beneath your molars as your jaw aches at the tension. It doesn't taste good, and it's hardly a treat. It's a bad habit, one your mother always told you to break before your teeth did, but it's soothing at this point—being able to mold something against the shape of you. 

LED lights burn into your retinas as you read through the email on your computer screen. You've tried ten times now to absorb the information, but your brain is too saturated to soak up anything more, and the rock hard chair they provide for the office workers doesn’t help. You're stuck on the same sentence as you were two minutes ago. Repeating. Re-scanning. Rereading to no avail. 

...by Friday morning... file reports directly to... sincerely…

"Constance?" 

A voice catches you off guard, and your teeth nearly slice through your writing utensil. Hazy eyes glance over your monitor as you soak in the sight of the man before you. He's handsome; clad in the same battle dress uniforms as every other soldier on base. The green looks good on him. No, better than good. It heavenly contrasts his darker complexion, and you find yourself drawn to his eyes; wide and sweet, like a good dog. 

"You don't look like Constance," he chuckles. It's warm, and the baritone of it has your throat growing dry. 

"Retired. You're looking at her replacement," you hum.

You breathe deeply as he approaches, hoping for a whiff of something. A gentle redolence; something. It’s only natural—this curiosity that grips you. You’re certain he’s doing the same to you at this very moment. 

You're ashamed of the disappointment that fills you when you catch nothing. 

A beta. 

"Pity, she was sweet. Though, you're much easier on the eyes," he humors. "I swear her scowl was mean enough to send most drill sergeants running for the hills." 

You chuckle at his flattery as you click the tip of your chewed up pen against your desk. It echoes hollowly in your empty drawers, the space yet to be filled with scrap paper and stolen library books. You tilt your head as he hands you a short stack of papers. You fight the urge to sink your teeth through his palm—to rip the flesh free from his metacarpals. Almost time to go home and he gives you more work to do. 

"Suppose you're in charge of this now, yeah?" he says. 

Solemnly, you nod. "Garrick?" you confirm as you read the name printed at the top of the report. 

"Sergeant Garrick," he corrects with a smirk. "Or Kyle, if you're feeling friendly." 

His suave humor is enough to earn him another chuckle as you set his report on top of your keyboard. Tilting your head, you pull at the buttons on your blouse absentmindedly, too on edge to sit still. You fail to notice his nostrils flaring at the movement of your shirt. 

"Well, thank you, Kyle. I'll get to work on this," you say, quietly excusing him. 

Kyle nods short and curt as he takes a step back. "Thank you, ma'am." 

He hardly makes it out of the door before he's clamping his hand over his nose. He almost pinches his nostrils; suffocates himself so that he doesn't have to smell anything at all. Everything spins as if the very earth beneath his feet sways with the desire of the universe. You reek. Nothing but need and exhaustion—you're going into heat soon. He's smelled it on omegas countless times before—the brutal hormone change—but it's always come across as just a fact. Something he can sense. Like a light flickering on. It's not supposed to make him feel like this; too warm to be comfortable in his skin. As if the whole sun is in the palm of his hand. 

Shaking his head, Kyle forces his feet to trudge down the hallway as he fixes his posture and clears his mind. This is his own fault. Just needs to get better about taking his hormone suppressants on time, that's all. He's kept up this facade of being a beta this far, and he's not about to ruin it now. Not over some sweet smelling thing in the main office. 

Still, he can't recall if there was a bite mark on your neck or not, and he hates the way his throat grows parched—how his tongue needs to taste your skin.

"Fucking hell," he curses with nothing but the empty hallway to hear him. "Get your damn head on straight."

follow @mother-ilia to be notified of updates | early access to chapters here

[nemo-writes]

𝗮𝗯𝘀𝗼𝗹𝘂𝘁𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝘀𝗺𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗻 I chapter ten

(dr. jack abbot x nurse!reader)

⤿ chapter summary: time passes without a whisper of danger—yet your nerves remain coiled, the calm louder than any threat, and even the smallest unraveling leaves you raw. and then—a reminder. a sweet and scruffy one.

⤿ warning(s): discussion of medical procedures, medical inaccuracies

⟡ story masterlist ; previous I next

✦ word count: 1.7k

Night settles over The Pitt—still damp from the days-long storm, but humming with the restless energy that always spikes when day hands off to graveyard. You and Jack step from his truck into a crisp mist, the hospital’s glass façade beading with rain that looks silver under the loading-bay floodlights. New security lamps flare along the sidewalk—Gloria’s latest decree—and a pair of guards linger at the doors, radios murmuring.

Inside the vestibule, you barely have time to swipe your badge before Margot’s unmistakable laugh echoes off the tile. She’s striding out with Bob at her side, keys jingling on his belt loop. They both slow when they spot you. Margot’s smile goes soft around the edges, the charge nurse façade slipping just a hair.

“Look who decided to grace the night shift with her presence,” she teases, but her eyes rake you head to toe—inventorying. Bob lifts the insulated tote he’s carrying, waggles it like contraband.

“You didn’t think we’d let you start a shift without pre-approved carbs, did you?” he says. The tote is clearly stuffed with fresh clothes, some snacks, and your favorite thermos. 

You accept with heat prickling your eyes. “Thank you guys. For the other stuff too.”

“No problem,” Bob says. He steps close, dipping his voice. “You doing okay?”

You expected the question, will expect it a dozen more times before dawn, but gratitude still stirs. “Hour by hour,” you answer. “Tonight feels…manageable.”

Margot hooks her arm through Bob’s, visibly relieved. “Good. Because we left a stack of elbow-deep charting for your meticulous little heart.”

Jack snorts behind you. “Translation: Ellis kept things imploding, but she’s threatening to duct-tape Shen to the inventory closet.”

Margot laughs, reaches out, and squeezes your forearm, her thumb pressing reassurance into your sleeve. “Call if you need anything—security code or emotional rescue.” Then she tips her chin at Jack. “And you—don’t let her do all the lifting.”

He lifts a hand in casual salute. “Roger that.”

With a final wave, the two of them disappear into the night, headed toward the staff lot where morning routines and normal sleep still exist. You watch them go until the door hisses shut, muffling the outside world.

Jack turns, clinks his badge against yours like a toast. “Ready?”

You draw a breath—clean antiseptic, distant coffee, the ever-present ozone tingle of the sterilizers. The hall ahead is bright and chilled, monitors already chiming in their peculiar midnight harmony. Security cameras pivot softly overhead, tracing every angle.

“Ready,” you say, and together you step past the threshold—back into fluorescent light, controlled chaos, and the shifting constellation of night-shift hearts that are already orbiting, waiting for your steady gravity to settle them.

. . .

The first night back feels like wearing stiff boots over half-healed blisters—every step deliberate, the pinch of memory always there. You track every clipboard, double-lock every med cart, and tense when a pager shrieks too close to your ear.

Yet nothing happens.

By the second week you’re still cataloging every unfamiliar face, but you’re also teasing a new nurse when he mislabels a drain and walking a med-student through a central-line checklist without your voice wobbling. The scanner Ramirez installed on the staff entrance clicks each time you badge in, a small mechanical reminder that the perimeter is tighter now. You and Jack trade five-minute hand-offs at the clean-utility alcove—his shoulder bump, your muttered “hydrate”—and the shift rolls on.

Weeks braid into a measured rhythm. 

By November, the south wing glows with early holiday lights and the trauma corridor carries a faint, persistent whiff of pumpkin-spiced coffee. You’ve also reclaimed your “midnight Bento” ritual—onigiri for Parker, hot miso for Shen—while Jack complains there’s still no chili oil. 

That same week Gloria corners you outside Sterile Core, her heels clicking a decisive cadence. She’s carrying a color-coded staffing matrix and a look that means business. “Security metrics have held thirty days,” she says, flipping to a highlighted column. “If you’re ready, I’m clearing you for day shift—and your old surgical slot. We’ll keep the enhanced badge checks, but the board trusts the system.”

You swallow, nod, and realize your pulse doesn’t spike at the prospect—only hums with something like anticipation.

And just like that, Veterans Day circles the calendar, and with it comes Jack’s rare PTO request: one personal day to breathe outside hospital walls, visit the memorial, recalibrate. On the eve of it, the shift starts hot and only climbs.

By mid-morning you and Ellis are juggling a dehisced abdominal wound when a flustered volunteer wheels in a couple clutching a gasping toddler. Triage tags them for you—shortness of breath, fever, no documented vaccines. The boy’s ribs see-saw with each breath; his O₂ reads 86. You hustle him onto oxygen while Ellis pages Respiratory, but the parents block the door, insisting the pulse‐ox is “rigged.”

“We keep our kid clean,” the father snaps, arms folded like a blockade of plaid. “No toxins.”

“Toxins are what he’s choking on right now,” you answer, trying to slip a thermometer past the mother’s swatting hand. The toddler wheezes, small fingers scrabbling for your scrub pocket. Two techs arrive with a nebulizer; the mother accuses them of “pharma poisoning.” 

Your patience thread frays. Security hovers outside at the ready.

Ellis finally edges the parents into the hallway by sheer force of Latin terminology, leaving you and the RT inside with the wheezing boy. You press the mask to his face, voice dropped to a lullaby, while through the cracked curtain you hear the father call Ellis “brainwashed.” 

By the time the parents cave in (at the last minute) and the the kid’s sats climb to 94, sweat slicks your spine. Security is also quick to escort the parents to registration; they leave paperwork crumpled, still muttering “government numbers.”

Ellis hands the child off to Pedi ICU, all while adrenaline jitters your wrists, and you return to find the med cart disassembled by a float nurse who wanted “just in case” morphine. It feels like one long violation—the parents’ disbelief, the cart chaos, the weight of fixing what should never have broken.

So you focus on rebuilding the drawers, alphabetical dividers snapping into place a little too hard, each click an exorcism. It’s in this raw, ragged pocket of the day that Jack appears in the med alcove to remind you again of his veterans-day absence.

“Hey,” he says gently. “Quick reminder—tomorrow I’m off. Ramirez and Parker know to be on—”

“Jack, I know,” you snap, vial tray clattering as you shove it home. “You’ve told me three times already. I’m not a stray left at the pound.” Your heart hammers; embarrassment floods in behind the anger but can’t dam the tears springing hot to your lashes. “I’ll be fine. You don’t have to hover just because I’m today’s damsel-in-distress.”

The sudden silence swells; the fridge hums. Jack’s gaze flicks to the re-ordered drawers, traces the tension coiled in your shoulders.

“I know you’re not fragile,” he says, voice even but warm. “I just care where my foxhole partner is standing.”

“That’s the problem,” you bite back, pulse still hammering from the parents’ tirade. “You’re always gauging my location like I’m a breach in the hull. I don’t need a minder every time you leave the building.”

He exhales through his nose—patience fraying—but keeps calm. “Listen—”

Your laugh cracks like brittle glass. “Spare me the pep talk. I’m holding by dental floss, and you hovering makes me feel like I’m seconds from splintering.”

Jack’s jaw tightens. He looks both ways, then curls two fingers into your scrub sleeve and steers you toward an empty bay. The curtain snaps shut behind you.

“Jack—”

“Quiet.” His voice is low, trembling with its own edge. “You just fought conspiracy parents while rebuilding a med cart like it’s Jenga. You skipped lunch and tore up your cuticles until they bled. I’m not hovering out of guilt—I’m hovering because I watched you hit the floor once and I’m not scheduling an encore.”

You open your mouth, fury and embarrassment tangling. “Stop making this about you feeling heroic. I will survive one day without—”

“That’s not what this is.” He steps closer, heat rolling off him. “You want proof?”

Before you can snarl another word he cups your face—hands firm but reverent—and kisses you, full and unhesitating. His stubble scrapes your skin in a rough, almost electric drag that somehow feels exactly right, grounding fury into something warmer. The shock blazes through anger, through exhaustion, until only the thunder of two heartbeats and antiseptic-scented air remain. His thumbs keep stroking your cheekbones, as if re-anchoring every fracturing part.

He pulls back just far enough to speak, breath ragged. “That is why I need to know where my foxhole partner stands. Not to monitor—” another kiss, softer, “—but to come stand there with her.”

This is months of unspoken wanting distilled into a single, wordless confession. His hands frame your face as if he’s chiseling truth into stone, and every press of lips says I love you, I love you, I love you without needing breath or syllables.

Tears cool on your cheeks, but they carry no fear—only the stunned relief of mysteries solved. “Fine,” you whisper, voice ragged but sure. “Go honor your day. I’ll hold the line.”

Jack’s answering smile is small, fierce, eyes shining with everything the kiss already said. 

“It’s been a long time since we claimed the roof,” he murmurs, voice husky from the confession that just burned across your lips. “Maybe we trade the foxhole for a bird’s-eye again. Day after I’m back—and after your first day shift—I’ll be up there at change-over like we used to. Deal?”

Something expansive blooms in your chest, bigger than relief, sharper than hope. You answer by wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him so fiercely he rocks on his heels.

“Deal,” you breathe against his collar. “Rooftop. After day shift. Tea included.”

He chuckles, warm and certain, and presses a final kiss to your cheek before slipping away at the shouted call of his name, the curtain whispering closed behind him. You let your lungs fill at last—still bent, still bone-weary, but no longer so tightly woven. When you push the curtain aside and step back into the buzzing corridor, the feeling of that stubbled kiss settles over your heart like fresh-forged armor, bright enough to carry you through the rest of this night—and all the way up to the rooftop tomorrow.

divider credit

[keehomania]

nct jaehyun with big tit reader pls…

JEONG JAEHYUN (정재현) — TWISTED (18+)

✧

the apartment was quiet, save for the gentle hum of the air conditioning and the rhythmic sweep of the mop across the floor. you moved with practiced precision, your hands gliding over every surface with meticulous care. a flick of your wrist here, a light dusting there—small adjustments that hardly seemed worth noting, but they were. every movement had a purpose, even if it was hidden beneath the veneer of tidying up.

the soft afternoon light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. you wiped down the windowsill, straightened the framed photo of you and jaehyun on the shelf with a smug glint in your eyes, and smoothed out the creases in the bedsheets. the apartment, as always, was immaculate, the kind of clean that only came from constant upkeep. but today, the cleaning wasn’t really about cleanliness. it was about preparation.

you paused by the desk, fingers brushing over the cool surface. between the neatly arranged pencil holders and stacks of paperwork, you slipped in a small camera, positioning it just right. a subtle angle, nothing too obvious, but enough to capture every corner of the room. a second camera followed, this one hidden in the far corner, tucked away in the shadows where it wouldn’t be noticed. satisfied, you moved on.

under the bed, you placed a voice recorder, pressing it firmly against the wood, ensuring it was out of sight. there was no room for mistakes, not today. finally, a tiny bug nestled into the corner of the room, blending seamlessly with the décor. you stepped back to admire your work, a slight smile tugging at the corners of your lips. everything was in place.

with a slow, deliberate movement, you tightened the belt around your dress, the soft leather pulling snug against your waist. the fabric draped perfectly, as it always did, every detail considered, every piece of you in control. you reached for the bottle of perfume on the vanity, its familiar scent filling the air as you dabbed it on your wrists. not your favorite scent—his. the one that made him lean in just a little closer, his breath catching for just a second longer.

you adjusted the microphone headset over your ears, the cool metal brushing against your skin. a sip of wine followed, the rich, dark liquid swirling in the glass before you took a slow, savoring taste. the tension in your muscles melted away, replaced by something else, something darker. not stress, not weariness, not betrayal. no, none of those things. what filled you now was a quiet thrill, a heat that coiled low in your stomach, simmering beneath the surface.

without a second glance, you made your way downstairs, the soft click of your heels echoing in the hallway. the receptionist barely looked up as you approached, her hand sliding instinctively to the desk drawer. you slipped her a bundle of cash—thick, well-prepared, without a word exchanged. she nodded, her hand moving to unlock the door behind her. you stepped inside the dimly lit security room, the soft hum of the monitors filling the space around you.

you settled into the chair, your fingers tracing the edge of the wine glass as you watched the screens flicker to life. one by one, the angles of the apartment room came into view, each camera displaying its silent feed. and there he was, as you knew he would be. jaehyun, standing in the corner, his body pressed against someone else. a woman, her legs wrapped around his waist, her arms clinging to his back. their lips moved in a frantic, fevered kiss, bodies entwined as if the world outside ceased to exist.

your eyes lingered on the screen, a slow, satisfied smile creeping across your face as you sipped your wine. typical. the scent of your perfume must have hit him, because his movements stilled for just a moment, nostrils flaring as he pulled back from the kiss. but it didn’t matter. even now, with another woman in his arms, your presence haunted him. and that, more than anything, sent a wave of satisfaction through you.

he pressed her harder against the wall, his fingers tangling in her hair, lips grazing her neck. but you didn’t flinch. you didn’t feel the sting of jealousy, didn’t feel your heart shatter at the sight. instead, there was a sick, twisted pleasure in watching him repeat the same motions he did with you. It should have hurt—should have torn you apart—but it didn’t. if anything, it thrilled you.

there was something captivating in watching his desire, watching him pour himself into someone else, knowing full well that no matter how much he took from her, it would never compare to what you gave. he could try, he could chase that feeling, but it would never be the same. not without you. so you let him have his time. let him indulge. and as you sipped your wine, watching the scene unfold before you, you knew that he would always come back. because no one else would ever match what you had.

the security room was dim, the glow of the monitors casting an eerie light over jaehyun’s sharp features. he sat in the worn leather chair, eyes glued to the flickering screens before him. the scent hit him first, thick and sweet like spun sugar, relentless in its sweetness, clinging to every breath he took. your perfume. it was unmistakable, coating the air with a syrupy heaviness that curled around him like a possessive hand. he grunted softly, his fingers gripping the arms of the chair, knuckles whitening as he inhaled deeply, letting the scent overwhelm his senses.

he knew it too well. the fragrance that lingered on your skin after a night out, the same one that would pull him toward you, that made his breath hitch when he buried his face in your neck. but tonight, the thought gnawed at him. was it for him? the way it used to be? or for your lover, the one you disappeared with after slipping out of the apartment when you thought he wasn’t looking?

the lines blurred in his mind, the sharpness between you and him, between you and whoever else had stolen your time, stolen what should have been his. his jaw tightened as he leaned closer to the screen, eyes narrowing. you had set this up. he knew it the moment he stepped into the room, knew it from the way the cameras were positioned. it was so you—calculated, precise, cruel in a way only he could appreciate. he wanted to hate it, to hate you, but instead, a twisted admiration crawled up his spine. this was your game, and he was only too willing to play.

his eyes roamed over the grainy image as you finally appeared on the screen, your figure unmistakable even through the static. you stepped into view, your dress clinging to your body like it was made for you, and jaehyun’s breath hitched again, the scent of your perfume still assaulting his senses. his hand, almost unconsciously, moved to his lap, the tension in his body easing slightly as he spread his legs wider, trying to alleviate the growing ache. but you weren’t alone.

his teeth grazed his bottom lip as he watched, every muscle in his body going rigid as a man stepped into the frame behind you. tall, unfamiliar, hands that gripped you too familiarly, lips that ghosted over the curve of your neck with an urgency that made jaehyun’s skin prickle. the man’s mouth moved against your skin, bruising and licking, leaving marks that jaehyun knew too well—the kind that staked a claim. his pulse quickened, his body reacting before his mind could catch up, a satisfied hiss slipping from his lips. he hated it, the way he was drawn to the sight of you with someone else. hated the way his body responded, the way his fingers twitched to touch the screen, to feel connected to something—anything—that involved you.

dd it feel the same? did the man know what you liked, the way jaehyun did? the way your breath caught when lips hovered over your collarbone, the way your back arched when fingers tangled in your hair. the possessiveness that burned in his chest was primal, instinctual. you were his, even if the world around him screamed otherwise. and then, just for a second—a fleeting moment that almost slipped past him—you paused. your head tilted, and your eyes, dark and knowing, flicked upward. they locked onto the camera. jaehyun’s breath hitched. you knew.

for a moment too long, your gaze didn’t waver. that smirk—the one he had memorized, the one that had undone him more times than he cared to count—curled at the edges of your lips. you weren’t just aware of him. you were showing him. every movement was deliberate, every arch of your neck as the man kissed your skin, every glance toward the lens, every shift in your posture. it was all for him. the realization hit him with the force of a train. this wasn’t about the man with you. he was just a prop, a tool in your hands to provoke the reaction you wanted.

jaehyun exhaled slowly, the tension in his body turning into something else—something deeper, darker. his lips parted, and he muttered under his breath, barely above a whisper, “that’s my girl.” the words felt raw, scraping against his throat, filled with a kind of pride that he hadn’t realized he still held. you knew him too well. better than anyone. you played him like an instrument, each note of your performance calculated to draw out exactly what you wanted from him. and he couldn’t help but admire it, as twisted as it was.

he leaned back in the chair, legs still spread wide, his hand dragging down his face as he let out a slow, steadying breath. his eyes never left the screen, watching as the man pulled you closer, his hands disappearing into your hair, mouth claiming yours in a kiss that should have made jaehyun see red. but he didn’t. he couldn’t. because in that moment, he knew it didn’t matter. none of them mattered.

the way the man touched you, the way he kissed you, it would never come close to the way jaehyun did. he knew you in ways that no one else ever could. you might share your body with someone else, but your mind, your games—they were all his. you left breadcrumbs, and he followed them willingly, drawn into the labyrinth you’d created. another smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he watched you, his girl, wrapped in another man’s arms, knowing full well you’d never belong to anyone else but him. he would let you play your game, let you dance with whoever you wanted, but in the end, it would always come back to the two of you.

he adjusted his seat, the sick heat of satisfaction settling deep within him. he couldn’t look away from the screen, even if he wanted to. and why would he? you were performing for him, after all. “knows me so well,” he murmured again, his voice a low, reverent sigh as he let his hand drop to his side. his eyes darkened, pupils dilating as he watched you, watched the man touch you, watched you steal glances at the camera. always for him.

the apartment was quiet again, but this time the silence was different—thicker, charged, as if the air itself was holding its breath. you felt it in the way your pulse raced beneath your skin, in the subtle tremor in your fingers as you stood in the middle of the room. he wasn’t far behind. you could hear him, the soft sound of his footsteps growing louder, closer, until the door clicked open behind you. you didn’t turn around. you didn’t need to. you could feel him watching you, his gaze heavy and possessive, the tension between you winding tighter with every passing second.

jaehyun didn’t say a word as he moved closer, the heat of his body pressing against your back. his hands slid around your waist, fingers grazing your hips before traveling upward, the soft fabric of your dress bunching under his touch. his lips found the side of your neck, the same spot where the man’s had been just hours earlier, but jaehyun’s kiss was rougher, more demanding. he bit down lightly, eliciting a sharp gasp from your lips, and you could feel him smirk against your skin.

“you must’ve seen us, yeah?” your voice was breathless, words slipping out between shallow pants as his hands tightened around your waist, pulling you flush against him. he answered with a low, guttural groan, the sound vibrating against your neck as his mouth moved lower, assaulting your skin with hot, open-mouthed kisses. his breath was ragged, uneven, and you felt the hardness of him pressing against the back of your thighs through his boxers, straining against the fabric. the memory of what he had seen—of you with another man—was still fresh in his mind, fueling every touch, every kiss.

jaehyun’s hand slipped under your dress, fingers trailing down to your panties, and without hesitation, he pushed them aside, his fingers finding the wet heat between your legs. his thumb brushed over your clit, slow at first, teasing, before he began to rub in tight circles, his pace quickening as he leaned into your ear. “every bit of it,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine. “you gave it to him real good, baby.”

a smirk tugged at your lips as you twisted your fingers into his hair, yanking his head back just enough to force him to look at you. his lips were swollen, glistening with spit, and his eyes—those dark, dangerous eyes—were filled with lust and something darker, something unhinged. you’d always loved that look, the way it made your heart pound, the way it made your core ache for him.

without warning, you slapped him hard across the face, the sharp crack of skin against skin reverberating through the room. the force of it left his cheek red, and the sting of your palm lingered in the air. jaehyun’s lips parted in a shocked gasp, his pupils blown wide as the lust in his eyes deepened into something feral. his hand flexed at your waist, and for a moment, you thought he might lose control completely. instead, he groaned, a low, broken sound that made your stomach clench, and you could feel his cock twitch against you, his boxers impossibly tight. “almost like you expected less of me,” you purred, your voice dripping with satisfaction as you traced the red mark on his cheek, watching the way his breath hitched at your touch. you could feel the power shift between you, feel the way his body reacted to your every word, your every movement.

he didn’t respond with words. instead, his hands moved to your shoulders, shoving you back onto the bed with enough force to make the mattress creak. you let out a sharp moan as your body hit the sheets, your back arching as jaehyun climbed on top of you, his weight pressing you down. he grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head as his lips trailed down the curve of your neck, past your collarbone, before they found their way to your breasts.

he groaned as his mouth latched onto one of your nipples, sucking hard, his tongue swirling over the sensitive bud. his other hand cupped your breast, squeezing, kneading, as if he couldn’t get enough of them. “love these so much,” he murmured against your skin, his voice muffled by the fullness of your breast in his mouth. “the other girls, they don’t have ones like this.”

your breath hitched, the praise sending a wave of heat through your body, making your knees weak. but before you could process it, jaehyun released your wrists and leaned up, his hand moving with brutal swiftness as it collided with your cheek in a stinging slap that made your head snap to the side. the sharp pain bloomed across your skin, and instead of recoiling, you moaned, the sound desperate and raw, your body arching toward him in a way that begged for more. “i don’t get to play with them like this,” he smirked, his thumb brushing over your reddened cheek before trailing back down to your chest, his hands claiming your breasts again as if they belonged to him.

your thighs clenched around his waist, hips bucking up against him, desperate for friction, for relief from the ache that had been building inside you from the moment he touched you. his name slipped from your lips in a breathless whisper, a plea that made his smirk widen as he pressed his body down against yours, his erection rubbing against your bare thigh through his boxers. he leaned down, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss, his tongue sliding against yours with a hunger that felt primal, unhinged. the kiss was messy, spit slicking your lips as his hands moved down your body, fingers curling around the waistband of your panties before he yanked them off in one rough motion. his fingers returned to your core, probing and rubbing, and every touch was calculated to make you squirm, to elicit the moans he’d missed on camera.

you broke the kiss to gasp for air, your head tipping back as he slid two fingers inside of you, curling them just right, hitting the spot that made you see stars. your legs trembled around him, every nerve in your body lit up with need as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, his thumb pressing against your clit in time with each thrust.

“god, jae,” you gasped, your fingers gripping his hair, tugging hard enough to make him groan. He loved when you pulled his hair, loved the sting of pain mixed with pleasure. “yeah,” he grunted, his voice low and ragged as he looked up at you, his fingers never slowing. “you like it when i watch, don’t you? see how desperate you are for them.”

you smirked, your body arching off the bed, chasing the pleasure. “i like it when you can’t stop yourself,” you breathed, your voice thick with desire. “when you’re so addicted to me, you can’t even think straight.” his eyes darkened, the intensity of his gaze sending a shiver through you as he pulled his fingers from you, leaving you empty and aching. in one swift motion, he shoved his boxers down, his erection springing free, hard and desperate for you. he didn’t hesitate, grabbing your hips and yanking you down the bed before positioning himself between your legs.

he hovered above you for a moment, eyes locked onto yours, the air thick with tension, before he thrust into you, filling you in one hard stroke that knocked the breath from your lungs. you cried out, nails digging into his shoulders as your body adjusted to the sudden fullness, the burn of the stretch only intensifying the pleasure. he groaned, his head falling to your shoulder as he set a brutal pace, his hips slamming into yours with a desperation that bordered on madness. the room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, of his ragged breaths and your breathless moans, of the bed creaking under the force of his thrusts.

he buried his face in your neck, biting down hard enough to bruise as he fucked you with reckless abandon, his body shaking with the force of it. you clung to him, your legs wrapped around his waist, your body moving in perfect sync with his, lost in the intensity of the moment, lost in the feeling of him inside of you. jaehyun’s hands moved down to your chest, gripping your breasts with a hunger that made your breath hitch. his fingers dug into the soft flesh, squeezing, kneading, his eyes glued to the way they moved with each hard thrust of his hips. he was obsessed, completely entranced, as if he couldn’t get enough of the way they filled his hands, the way your nipples stood hard and ready for him.

his mouth descended on one of them, his lips hot and wet as he sucked greedily, swirling his tongue around your sensitive nipple before biting down gently, just enough to send a sharp jolt of pleasure through your body. you moaned, your back arching off the bed as his teeth grazed your skin, leaving a red mark in his wake. he groaned against your breast, his hand moving to cup the other one, his thumb flicking over your nipple, sending shockwaves of pleasure straight to your core.

“fuck, i love these,” he repeated between kisses, his voice thick with lust, muffled by your skin as he continued to lavish attention on your chest. “they’re so fucking perfect, baby. none of the others—” he paused, his teeth grazing your nipple again, harder this time. “—none of the other girls have tits like this.” you smirked at his words, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you threaded your fingers through his hair, yanking him up to meet your gaze. his lips were wet, spit running down his chin, his eyes wild with need, the dark desire in them so potent it made your stomach flip.

“good,” you panted, your voice breathless but teasing, “because they don’t deserve them.” his cock twitched inside you at that, and you knew you had him. he liked when you reminded him, when you made him see that no matter who he was with, no matter what he did, you were the one he couldn’t let go of. you were the one who owned him.

you ran your hands down his chest, your nails scratching lightly against his skin, leaving faint red lines in their wake. he groaned at the sensation, his hips stuttering slightly as he thrust into you harder, deeper, chasing the release he knew he’d only find with you. “i saw you, you know,” you whispered, your voice thick with a twisted kind of admiration. “you fucked her so well, jae. i was impressed.”

his breath hitched at your praise, and you could feel the way his body responded to your words, the way his cock swelled inside you, twitching with need. his grip on your breasts tightened, his hips slamming into yours with renewed force as if he was trying to prove something, trying to show you that no matter who he fucked, it was you that he belonged to. “yeah?” he groaned, his voice low and rough as he leaned down, his mouth hovering over yours. “you liked watching me fuck her?”

you moaned in response, your legs tightening around his waist as you lifted your hips to meet his thrusts. “yeah,” you breathed, your lips brushing against his, teasing him. “but you know what i like even more?” he growled, his hand slipping from your chest to your throat, his fingers wrapping around your neck as he pressed his lips to your ear. “what?”

“i like knowing that no matter how good it was, no matter how hard you fucked her, you always come back to me,” you whispered, your voice dripping with confidence, with satisfaction. he groaned at your words, his hand tightening around your throat just enough to make your breath catch. “fuck, baby,” he muttered, his voice thick with desire. “you’re the only one. no one else feels like this.”

he leaned down, his mouth crashing against yours in a bruising kiss, his tongue sliding against yours in a wet, messy tangle of spit and need. you could taste him—taste the desperation, the hunger that only you could satisfy. his lips were swollen, raw, and you kissed him harder, your fingers digging into his hair, pulling him closer. he pulled back slightly, his breath hot against your lips as he looked down at you, his eyes dark and filled with a primal kind of lust. “you like it when i fuck them, huh?” he babbled through a haze of lust, his hips slamming into yours again, his pace relentless. “you like knowing that no matter how good they are, they’ll never be you.”

you moaned in response, your nails digging into his back as your body trembled beneath him. “yes,” you panted, your voice barely more than a whisper, “because they’ll never be enough for you.” jaehyun’s hand moved from your throat to your breast again, squeezing it roughly as he leaned down, his lips trailing down your neck to your chest. he sucked on your nipple, his tongue swirling around it before pulling it between his teeth and biting down, hard enough to make you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure.

“god, i love these tits,” he groaned, his voice muffled by your skin. “could fuck them all day.” your legs trembled, the intensity of his words and the roughness of his touch pushing you closer to the edge. you could feel the coil of pleasure tightening in your stomach, ready to snap at any moment. “then do it,” you teased, your voice breathless as you arched into him. “fuck me like you fuck them, jaehyun. show me.”

his eyes flashed with something dark and devious, and without warning, he pulled out of you, leaving you empty and aching. you barely had time to protest before he grabbed your hips, flipping you onto your stomach with a rough shove. you moaned as your body hit the mattress, your hands gripping the sheets as he positioned himself behind you. he didn’t waste time. his hands gripped your ass, spreading you open as he thrust into you from behind, the force of it making you cry out, your body jolting forward with each hard thrust. the angle was different, deeper, and you could feel every inch of him as he slammed into you, his cock hitting the spot that made you see stars.

his hand came down on your ass with a sharp slap, the sting of it sending a wave of pleasure through your body. “fuck,” you gasped, your voice muffled by the pillow as your hips bucked back against him. “harder.” he growled, his fingers digging into your hips as he fucked you harder, faster, the sound of his skin slapping against yours filling the room. “you really love this, don’t you?” he grunted, his voice low and rough. “love knowing i fuck them, but i come back to you.”

you moaned, your body trembling with pleasure as you nodded, your words coming out in broken gasps. “yes, yes, i love it.” his hand came down on your ass again, harder this time, and you cried out, the sting of it mixing with the overwhelming pleasure building inside you. “good,” he muttered, his voice thick with lust. “because this is the one thing i get to do that they can’t.”

with that, he thrust into you one last time, his body tensing as he buried himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he came, filling you with hot, sticky heat. you moaned at the feeling of him cumming inside you, the sensation sending you over the edge as your own orgasm ripped through you, your body convulsing with pleasure. jaehyun collapsed on top of you, his chest heaving as he pressed soft kisses to the back of your neck, his hands still gripping your hips tightly. “this,” he murmured against your skin, his voice soft but possessive, “this is mine.”

✧

a/n: i do NOT condone cheating yall

[loves-n-kisses]

So hi again lol, I finally know the name of my heart condition for the heart monitor and Aizawa fanfic, it’s called hypertensive POTS, if you don’t want to do it you can just ignore this lol, love all your work

tysm!! Thanks for the clarification, it helped me do a bit of research for it. I thought i uploaded it already lol, my brain's been all over the place recently. Here it is!

Never a Bother - Aizawa x Reader

fluff, slight angst, POTS awareness!!

A story where reader has hyperintensive POTS, and Shouta's there to help. Always.

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

The soft hum of the kettle filled your shared apartment, sunlight filtering through the curtains. You, a civilian with a knack for organizing Shota’s chaotic hero life, were tidying the living room, your heart rate monitor snug on your arm. You’d been feeling off since morning—dizzy, heart racing—but didn’t mention it, knowing Shota had just come off a grueling night patrol. He was sprawled on the couch, grading papers, his dark hair a mess, looking unfairly handsome in his worn sweatshirt.

You reached to adjust a stack of books, but a wave of nausea hit. Your monitor beeped loudly, heart rate spiking as your condition flared. The room spun, your knees buckling. “Shota,” you gasped, gripping the coffee table.

He was up in a flash, papers scattering, his arms catching you before you crumpled. “Hey, easy,” he murmured, voice low and steady, guiding you to the floor. He propped you against the couch, kneeling in front of you. His eyes, usually tired, were sharp with worry as he checked your monitor’s soaring numbers. “Look at me, love.”

Your chest tightened, vision blurring, but his gaze grounded you. “Didn’t… want to bother you,” you wheezed, fingers fumbling for his hand.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said, voice gruff but laced with tenderness. He squeezed your hand, his other brushing hair from your clammy forehead. “Slow breaths, in and out. You know the drill.” He grabbed the water bottle from the table, uncapping it. “Small sips.”

You nodded, sipping shakily as he steadied the bottle. “Salt tabs?” he asked, already reaching for the small pouch you kept nearby. He popped one out, placing it in your palm. “Take it. I’ve got you.”

You swallowed, leaning into his touch as he cupped your cheek. The monitor’s beeping slowed, the dizziness easing. “You’re too good at this,” you mumbled, managing a weak smile.

He huffed, thumb tracing your jaw. “You scare me every damn time.” His voice softened, betraying the fear he hid so well. “Why didn’t you say you were feeling off?”

“Wanted you to rest,” you admitted, eyes stinging. “You’re always taking care of me.”

Shota’s expression softened, and he pulled you gently into his chest, arms wrapping around you. “And you take care of me every day. Let me do this.” He kissed your forehead, lingering. “We’re a team, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, melting into his warmth. The monitor quieted, your heart steadying under his care.

He shifted, scooping you up effortlessly despite your protests. “Bed. Now.” He carried you to your shared room, setting you down gently before climbing in beside you. “Rest,” he ordered, pulling you close, his chin resting atop your head. “I’m staying right here.”

“Love you, Shota,” you murmured, safe in his arms.

“Love you too,” he said, voice a quiet promise. “Always.”

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

note: I like writing about/bringing awareness to different situations. It help me learn about them and gives me more of a perspective on other people's lives. Thanks for the request! Also--Shouta comfort just calms me for some reason.

-made with loves n' kisses! 💋✨

[sevasey51]

How often would GYN, neuro and cardiac visits be?

Do you think in between those visits Ava and Hannah would check in with Connor about her health?

The Rhythm of Watching

Summary: With Endometriosis, POTS, and Chronic Migraines shaping her world, medical appointments are a constant in Y/N’s life. Gynecology, Neurology, Cardiology—each specialty sees her on a rotating basis, forming the backbone of her chronic care. But it’s not just about the appointments—it’s about everything in between. Ava Bekker and Hannah Archer don’t just check in on her anymore. They check in with Connor, too. Because they know that for someone like her, care doesn’t stop when she leaves the clinic. And for someone like him, worry never sleeps.

The Schedule: The Cadence of Chronic Illness Care

It was a rhythm now—one they knew by heart.

Gynecology – Every 4–6 weeks (with Hannah)

Her endometriosis wasn’t just painful. It was invasive. Complicated. Resistant to most standard treatment plans. There had already been surgeries—adhesions removed, cysts drained, nerves preserved. But it always came back.

Hannah saw her every month and a half without fail, often sooner if the bleeding or cramping flared beyond her usual threshold.

They monitored:

• Hormonal levels.

• Clotting and anemia risk.

• The impact of flares on her hydration and blood pressure.

• Whether her current treatment still allowed her to function without crashing.

In between visits, she logged her bleeding patterns in an app that Connor also checked. Quietly. She didn’t mind. They tracked it like clockwork, trying to stay ahead of the next fall.

If Hannah didn’t hear from them in a few weeks? She’d text Connor.

Hannah: “How’s she doing? Any new pain patterns? Still on iron?”

Connor: “Worse this week. Nausea’s up. She’s flaring at night. Holding off on ER unless she bleeds through again.”

Hannah: “I’ll bump her up. Get her in by Friday.”

Because they didn’t wait for it to get bad. Not anymore.

Neurology – Every 6–8 weeks (with Ava)

Her migraines came in cycles—hormone-driven, mostly—but brutal. The kind that made her vomit, slur words, flinch from light. The kind that sometimes triggered her POTS into a spiral.

Ava kept her on a tight rotation.

• Monthly injectable prevention.

• Abortive therapy options on-hand.

• A standing order for hospital-administered rescue meds if her at-home cocktail failed.

Every two months, she saw Ava face-to-face. But Connor always knew when the migraines were shifting before Ava did.

That’s why Ava had started checking in with him.

Sometimes over text.

Sometimes in the hallway between surgeries.

Sometimes over coffee at Med when they both had 10 minutes between cases.

Ava: “You tracking her aura patterns lately?”

Connor: “Yeah. They’re back. She had two speech disruption episodes this week. I gave her a low-dose steroid burst, it helped some.”

Ava: “Good. Keep her off her feet for now. Let’s scan her again next visit just to rule out anything vascular.”

Connor never needed reminding. But Ava gave him that space—to be worried, to be vigilant, without judgment.

Cardiology – Every 3 months (with Dr. Liu)

Her POTS was tricky. Responsive some days, devastating others. Blood pressure that dropped when she stood too long. Heart rate that spiked with a walk to the kitchen. They’d ruled out Ehlers-Danlos vascular complications so far, but the monitoring never stopped.

Every three months, she had:

• A full cardiac work-up: echo, tilt table if needed, labs.

• Adjustments to her salt and fluid management.

• Medication reviews.

Connor kept her heart data in a shared folder. Every time she felt “off,” he logged it. If her symptoms started to stack—dizzy and tachy and pale—he got ahead of it.

He didn’t just go to cardiology appointments with her.

He ran them.

And in between? There were check-ins. Always check-ins.

Ava would corner him outside an OR with a raised brow.

“You look tense. She okay?”

Hannah would send a message if she hadn’t seen new data in a while.

“Connor—when was her last real rest day?”

Because the women who treated her didn’t just care about her body.

They cared about him. The husband who sat up at 2 a.m. icing her neck, who prepped every med kit like a surgeon packing a trauma bag, who carried her to the couch when she couldn’t stand.

And sometimes, the check-ins weren’t clinical at all.

Sometimes Ava would say, “You need to take a walk, Rhodes. She’s resting. You’re not helping her by breaking yourself.”

Sometimes Hannah would just give him a look before walking into the exam room, a look that said, You’re not alone in this.

And he’d nod. Because that was all he needed.

Because chronic care wasn’t about just managing symptoms.

It was about seeing the patient and the partner.

The body and the bond.

The person and the protector.

And when the team really understood that—

She never had to carry it all alone.

And neither did he.

[sommerregenjuniluft]

@jegulus-microfic august 21 - hallway - 1124 words - office AU with intern!Regulus and juniorboss!James (nsfw! in part2)

this one’s for shan @grimjobs <3 heh

Regulus has a love-hate relationship with the supplies room. Or, more specifically, the hallway leading there.

It’s all the way at the fuck all end of the office, past the breakroom and near the lavatories. And Regulus, being the intern, gets sent there for every piss little thing a coworker might be in need of. Oh, Regulus I think I’m out of sticky notes, can you be a darling and get some from the supply room?, or, Regulus the copier is out of paper, or, Regulus is there a spare chair in the supply room? Mine’s so squeaky.

It is, also, precisely across from the Junior boss’s office, and Regulus gets incredibly flustered around James, even if the curtains are covering the huge glass panes, and so, more often than not, Regulus forgets something and has to trudge back all over again.

He knows it’s part of the job and hey, he even gets his steps in every day but what’s still entirely unfair is the way heat shoots up Regulus’ nape the second James looks up from behind his monitor and flashes him a pearly smile.

Regulus nods his head in acknowledgement, cheeks flaring and then ducks into the supply room for an array of markers, pens, blue paper for flyers, a whole fucking paper cutter machine and paper clips, but only the red ones! Sure, Bethany.

He is in the process of checking the idiotically small-printed labels for the box of yellow markers, apparently completely unaware of his surroundings, when suddenly there’s a puff of minty breath against Regulus’ cheek and a warm body skirting past his back, not quite touching but body heat radiating off him like a bloody furnace.

The Junior Boss has naturally warm hands, which Regulus is intimately familiar with since this one insisted on proving that fact when they were out with the colleagues for mulled wine last year before Christmas and Regulus had nearly frozen his fucking fingers off despite gloves. Needless to say, Regulus had gotten warm very quickly after James had stood close with his sweet smile and deep red beanie over tousled hair, cradling his hands in his palms like they were something precious.

“Sorry, love, don’t mind me,” and Regulus leaves an undignified high-pitched sound as he whirls around and comes face to face with messy raven hair and toffee brown eyes behind gold rimmed glasses. Is so hypnotized by the sight up close that his hold goes slack on the pens and paper he’s already found.

“Oh,” James says, hand shooting out to keep the rolling pens from hitting the ground. Grins while he puts one of his palms steadying under Regulus’ hand where he’s now gripping the stack of blue like a lifeline and places the pens back on top of it, “Careful there.”

Regulus’ voice is raspy when he manages a weak, “Thanks.”

James hums in understanding as he extracts himself and it’s low and deep and Regulus swears he can feel the wavelengths of it permeate through the air and penetrate all the layers of skin and muscle in his chest. Lap at the bones and wash right through between the ribs. Coil around his heart, dangerously and then devilishly slink down his spine and pool right in a pit below Regulus’ stomach that seems responsive solely to all things James related in a very biased way.

What comes next is a bit inconceivable and hazy in Regulus’ mind.

Because then James, terrifyingly, decides to step back close again and lean in.

Closer than before and Regulus is tensing, waiting for James to get the thing he’s reaching for from behind Regulus on the shelf but James doesn’t.

Doesn’t move in any regard safe for his eyelids drooping and gaze restlessly darting over Regulus face. Lick his lips and now they’re shiny and wet and Regulus has to look away. Eyes flitting back up to James like he’s being reeled in magnetically and finds their gazes locking.

And then there’s a careful touch at Regulus’ jaw and Regulus tilts his head up and into it and before the breathy noise can entirely leave his mouth James is already swallowing it up, pressing parted lips against Regulus’ with a heavy sigh.

It’s a careful press of lips and it stays like that, measured and controlled, even as James comes back in for another array of soft fluttering kisses. But it’s still wet and with the unhurried leisure their lips stick to each other, with the spit and the slow press and it’s so, so fucking far from decent and appropriate Regulus could cry.

So, really, Regulus is not to blame for the way it draws him tight, riles him up until comes the snap, and it’s in the form of a keen he didn’t even know he could make that sounds a horrifying lot like a mewl.

Which then has James promptly separating them with heavy panting, lips kiss bitten and eyes wild and Regulus would literally rather staple his eyes shut than keep looking at this without being able to do something about it.

James rightens his glasses where they’ve become askew and then his mouth tips into a happy, self-satisfied 100 watt grin, “Come on, I’ll walk you back to your desk,” taking the blue paper packet out of his hands. “Anything else you need from in here?”

And Regulus tries to remember while simultaneously suppressing the urge to throttle him and also trying to get his breathing back under control and blush to fade and hard cock to go down and why is he acting like nothing out of the ordinary just happened? Like this is your usual Monday morning occurrence and not groundbreaking and also a complete disaster waiting to happen?

Helplessly mumbles about the paper cutter machine and then James is balancing that on one defined forearm like it weighs nothing and escorting Regulus back to his desk, chattering his ear off in a chirpy tone that Regulus doesn’t register a thing off.

When James takes a pause to breathe Bethany coincidentally happens to walk past and after one look the old bat asks about her red paper clips, Regulus? which then for some reason prompts Mark to leer over the cubicle wall from across and frown at the lack of yellow marker.

Regulus barely refrains from face-palming, internally chanting and begging for the ground to open up and swallow him and then James next to him is chuckling and making a fucking cooing noise at him. He waves a dismissive hand, “Must’ve slipped your mind, huh?”

The glint in his eyes though is anything but innocent when he leans a little closer, murmuring, “Well, let’s head back and get the rest, shall we?”

———

part 2, they’re nasty fuckin there 🤭

[doeeyedseer]

Elriel Masterpost

ACOMAF:

Chapter 24 Page 257-58

A faint smile bloomed upon Azriel’s mouth as he noticed Elain’s fingers white-knuckled on that fork, but he kept silent…

Elain said, "It’s all very disorienting."

"I can imagine," Azriel said. Cassian flashed him a glare. But Azriel’s attention was on my sister, a polite, bland smile on his face. Her shoulders loosened a bit.

[Skip a part]

Elain said to Azriel, perhaps the only two civilized ones here, "Can you truly fly?"

He set down his fork, blinking. I might have even called him self-conscious. He said, "Yes. Cassian and I hail from a race of faeries called Illyrians. We're born hearing the song of the wind."

"That's very beautiful," she said. "Is it not-frightening, though? To fly so high?"

"It is sometimes," Azriel said. Cassian tore his relentless attention from Nesta long enough to nod his agreement. "If you are caught in a storm, if the current drops way. But we are trained so thoroughly that the fear is gone before we're out of swaddling."

[Skip]

Rhys chuckled, Cassian's wrath slipping enough that he grinned, and Elain, noticing Azriel's ease as proof that things weren't indeed about to go badly, offered one of her own as well.

Chapter 50

"And I think Elain- Elain would like it, too. Though she'd probably cling to Azriel, just to have some peace and quiet. "

I smiled at the thought- at how handsome they would be together. If the warrior every stopped quietly loving Mor.

Acowar

Chapter 24 Pg 253-54

Azriel arrived first, no shadows to be seen, my sister a pale, golden mass in his arms. He, too, wore his Illyrian armor, Elain's golden brown hair snagging in some of the black scales across his chest and shoulders.

He set her down gently on the foyer carpet having carried her in through the front door.

Elain peered up at his patient, solemn face.

Azriel smiled faintly. "Would you like me to show you the garden?"

She seemed so small before him, so fragile compared to the scales of his fighting leathers, the breadth of shoulders, the wings peeking over them.

But Elain did not balk from him, did not shy away as she nodded- just once.

Azriel, graceful as any courtier, offered her an arm. I couldn't tell if she was looking at his blue Siphon or at his scarred skin beneath as she breathed, "Beautiful."

Color bloomed high on Azriel's golden-brown cheeks, but he inclined his head in thanks and led my sister toward the back doors in the garden, sunlight bathing them.

Chapter 24 Pg 254

“Cassian and Lucien appeared, neither looking at the other. But Lucien’s attention went right to the hallway toward the back, his nostrils flaring as he scented Elain’s direction. And who she’d gone with.

A low snarl slipped out of him—

“Relax,” Rhys said. “Azriel isn’t the ravishing type.”

Chapter 24 Pg: 256-59

"Azriel knows you're watching," Rhys drawled from where he stood before the mirror in our bedroom, adjusting the lapels of his black jacket.

My hair still damp from the bath I'd just taken, I slid my heavy earring through my lobes and peered out our bedroom window, monitoring the garden below.

Elain sat silently at on the the wrought-iron tables, a cup of tea before her. Azriel was sprawled on the chaise longue across the gray stones, sunning his wings and reading what looked to be a stack of reports- likely information on the Autumn Court that he planned to present to Rhys once he'd sorted through it all. Already dressed for the Hewn City- the brutal, beautiful armor so at odds with the lovely garden. And my sister sitting within it.

"Why not make them mates?" I mused. "Why Lucien?"

"I'd keep that question from Lucien."

"I'm serious." I turned toward him and crossed my arms. "What decides it? Who decides it?"

Rhys straightened his lapels before plucking an invisible piece of lint from them. "Fate, the Mother, the Cauldron's swirling eddies..."

"Rhys."

"You said your mother and father were wrong for each other; Tamlin said his own parents were wrong for each other. So it can't be a perfect system of matching. What if"-I jerked my chin toward the window, to my sister and the shadowsinger in the garden- "That is what she needs? Is there no free will? What if Lucien wishes the union but she doesn't?"

"A mating bond can be rejected, " Rhys said mildly, "There is choice. And sometimes, yes- the bond picks poorly. Sometimes, the bond is nothing more than some.. preordained guesswork at who will provide the strongest offspring. At its basest level, it's perhaps only that. Some natural function, not an indication of true, paired souls." A smile at me- at the rareness perhaps of what we had.

[skipping a part]

"Do you think she and Lucien match well?"

"You know them better than I do. But I will say that Lucien is loyal-fiercely so."

"So is Azriel."

Chapter 28 pg. 297

The ancient healer jerked her chin toward Lucien." See what he can do. If anyone can sense if something is amiss, it's a mate."

Chapter 27 pg.286

“No. I … I was sleeping, but I heard …” She shook her head. Blinked at our formal attire, the dark crown atop my head—and Rhysand’s. “I didn’t hear you.”

Azriel stepped forward. “But you heard something else.” 

Elain seemed about to nod, but only backed away. "I think I was dreaming, "She murmured. "I think I'm always dreaming these days."

"Let me get you some hot milk, " I said, putting a hand on her elbow to guide her into the sitting room.

But Elain shook me off, heading back to the stairs. She said as she climbed the first steps, "I can hear her-crying."

I gripped the bottom post the bannister. "Who?"

"Everyone thinks she's dead." Elain kept walking. "But she's not. Only-different. Changed as I was"

"Who?" I pushed.

But Elain continued up the stairs, that shawl drooping down her back. Nesta stalked from Cassian's side to approach my own. We bother sucked in a breath, to say what, I didn't know but-

“What did you see,” Azriel said, and I tried not to flinch as I found him at my other side, not having seen him move. Again. 

Elain paused halfway up the stairs. Slowly, she turned to look back at him.  “I saw young hands wither with age. I saw a box of black stone. I saw a feather of fire land on snow and melt it.”

My stomach dropped to the floor. One glance at Nesta confirmed that she felt it too, saw it.

Mad. Elain might very well have gone mad—

“It was angry,” Elain said quietly. “It was so, so angry that something was taken. So it took something from them as punishment.”

We said nothing, I didn’t know what to say—what to even ask or demand. If the cauldron had done something to her as well…

I faced Azriel, exposing my palms to him. “What does that mean?”

Azriel’s hazel eyes churned as he studied my sister, her too-thin body. And without a word, he winnowed away. Mor watched the space where he’d been standing long after he was gone.

Chapter 30

The two Illyrians paused their inspection of me long enough to note my sisters finishing up my breakfast, Nesta in a pale gray gown that brought out the steel in her eyes, Elain in dusty pink.

Both males went a bit still. But Azriel sketched a bow- while Cassian stalked for the table for the dining table, reached right over Nesta's shoulder, and grabbed a muffin from its little basket. "Morning, Nesta," he said around a mouth of blueberry-lemon. "Elain."

[Skip]

Cassian's dark brows narrowed. I dragged a hand over my face before going to Elain and touching her too-bony shoulder. “Can I set you up in the garden? The herbs you planted are coming in nicely.”

“I can help her” said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose. No shadows at his ear, no darkness ringing from his fingers as he extended a hand.

Nesta monitored him like a hawk, but kept silent as Elain took his hand, and out they went.

Chapter 32 pg. 334

"No." Elain studied me, then her. "Not that one. The other."

Nesta took a steadying breath, opening her mouth to either whisk Elain upstairs or move on.

But Azriel asked softly, taking a single step over the threshold and into the sitting room, "What other?"

Elain's brows twitched toward each other.  “The queen–with the feathers of flame.”

The shadowsinger angled his head.

Lucien murmured to me, eyes still fixed on Elain, "Should we- does she need...?"

"She doesn't need anything," Azriel answered without so much as looking at Lucien.

Elain was staring at the spymaster now-unblinkingly.

"We're the ones who need..." Azriel trailed off. "A seer," he said, more to himself than us. "The Cauldron made you a seer."

Chapter 33

“It made sense, I supposed, that Azriel alone had listened to her. The male who heard things others could not…Perhaps he, too, had suffered as Elain had before he understood what gift he possessed.” He asked Elain, "There is another queen?"

Elain squinted, as if the question required some inner clarification, some...path into looking the right way at whatever had addled and plagued her. "Yes."

[skip part]

But Azriel nodded. "You knew," he said to Elain. "About the young queen turning into a crone."

Elain blinked and blinked, eyes clearing again. As if the understanding, our understanding... it freed her from whatever murky realm she'd been in.

"The sixth queen is alive?" Azriel asked, calm and steady, the voice of the High Lord's spymaster, who had broken enemies and charmed allies.

"Elain cocked her head, as if listening to some inner voice. "Yes."

ACOWAR Chapter 50

Mor took Nesta and Cassian by the hand, readying to winnow them to the camp, while shadows gathered around Azriel, Elain at his side, wide-eyed at the spymaster’s display.

[skip]

Then Azriel, gently taking Elain’s hand is his own, as if afraid his scars would hurt her.

Chapter 63

But Azriel asked softly, "What about Elain?"

[skip part]

Azriel stalked to my side, right into the tent where Nesta had now come to her feet. He tucked his wings in tightly as he squeezed through the narrow space, ignoring Nesta's snarl of warning, and knelt at the cot.

He ran a scarred hand over the rumpled blankets. "They're still warm."

Chapter 64

"We'll get her back, Cassian rasped.

Nesta lowered her hands, lifting her head. Her eyes were red rimmed, lips thin. "No you will not." She pointed to the map on the table. "I saw that army. Its size, who is in it. I saw it, and there is no change of any of you getting into its heart. Even you," she added when Cassian opened his mouth again. "Especially not when you're injured."

And what Hybern would do to Elain, might already be doing-

From the shadows near the entrance to the tent, Azriel said, as if in answer to some upspoken debate. "I'm getting her back."

Nesta slid her gaze the the shadowsinger. Azriel's hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows.

Nesta said, "Then you will die."

Azriel only repeated rage glazing that stare. "I'm getting her back."

With the shadows, he might stand a change of slipping in. But there were wards to consider, and ancient magic, and the king with those spells and the Cauldron...

For a moment, I saw that set of paints Elain had once bought me with the extra money she'd saved. The red, yellow, and blue I'd savored, used to paint that dresser in our cottage. I had not painted in years at that point, had not dared spend the money myself... But Elain had.

I stood. Met Azriel's wrathful stare.

"I'm going with you." I said.

Azriel only nodded.

[Skip part]

"I need one of your Siphons," I said to Azriel. The blue was slightly deeper but at night... they might not notice the difference.

He held out his palm, a round, flat blue stone appearing in it, and chucked it to me. I wrapped my fingers wound the warm stone, its power throbbing in my veins like an unearthly heartbeat.

[skip part]

Azriel was honing Truth-Teller with relentless focus.

Chapter 65

Azriel's shadow-hand grasped my own, tugging me closer. His rage rippled off his invisible form.

[skip part]

Elain was in her nightgown. Gagged, wrists wrapped in steel that glowed violet. Her eyes went wide as she saw us- Azriel and me-

I shifted my face back into my own, raising a hand to my lips as Azriel knelt before her. I kept up my litany of praying, beseeching the Cauldron to make my womb fruitful, on and on-

Azriel gently removed the gag from her mouth. "Are you hurt?"

She shook her head, devouring the sight of him as if not quite believing it. "You came for me." The shadowsinger only inclined his head.

[skip]

Azriel scooped up Elain, looping her bound arms around his neck. “Hold tight,” He ordered her, “and don’t make a sound.”

[skip]

"Grab onto him!" Elain ordered the wide-eyed human girl as Azriel thundered toward her. The girl looked like a doe about to be run down by a wolf.

The girl did not open her arms as they near.

Elain screamed at her, "If you want to live, do it now!"

The girl dropped her cloak, opened her arms wide.

Her black hair streamed behind Azriel, catching amongst his wings as he practically tackled her in the sky. But I saw, even as I ran, Elain's pale hand lurch- gripping the girl by her neck holding her as tightly as she could.

And just in time.

One of the hounds broke free from Tamlin in a mighty leap. I l ducked, bracing for impact.

But it was not aiming for me. Two bounding strides down the stone ledge and another leap-

Azriel's roar echoed off the rocks as the hound slammed into him, dragging those shredding talons down his spine, his wings-

The girl screamed, but Elain moved. As Azriel battled to keep them airborne, keep his grip on them, my sister sent a fierce kick into the beast's face. Its eye. Another. Another.

It bellowed, and Elain slammed her bare, muddy foot into its face again. The blow struck home.

With a yelp of pain, it released its claws- and plunged into the ravine.

So fast. It happened so fast. And blood- blood sprayed from his back, his wings-

[skip]

The king fired another arrow-two. one for me, one soaring for Elain's exposed back. Azriel slammed both away with a blue shield.

[skip]

The gray light of morning had broken over the world, mist clinging to our ankles as we headed into the camp, Azriel still cradling Elain to his chest. He dripped blood behind him the entire time- a trickle compared to the torrent that should be leaking out. Contained only the the patches of power he's slapped on it. Help- he needed a healer immediately.

[skip]

She (briar) only gazed at the tents, the soldiers who stumbled out. One saw Azriel and shouted for a healer to hurry for the spymaster's tent.

Rhys winnowed into our path before we'd made it past the first line of tents. His eyes went right to Azriel's wings, then the wound in my shoulder, the paleness of my face. To Elain, then Briar.

"I couldn't leave her," I said, surprised to find my own voice raw.

Running steps approached, and then Nesta rounded a tent, skidding to a halt in the mud.

She let out a sob at the sight of Elain, still in Azriel's arms.

{skip}

Rhys lunged for Azriel, taking Elain from him and gently setting my sister down. Azriel rasped, swaying on his feet, "We need Helion to get these chains off her."

Yet Elain didn't seem to notice them as she rose up on her toes and kissed the shadowsinger's cheek. And then walked to me and Nesta, who pulled back long enough to survey Elain's clean face, her clear eyes.

"We need to get you to Thesan, Rhys said to Azriel. "Right now."

ACOWAR Chapter 69

Azriel, still limping, merely nudged aside Cassian and extended another option. “This is Truth-Teller.” He told her softly. “I won’t be using it today—so I want you to.”

Elain’s eyes widened at the obsidian-hilted blade in Azriel’s scarred hand. The runes on the dark scabbard. “It has never failed me once.” The shadowsinger said, the midday sun devoured by the dark blade. “Some people say it is magic and will always strike true.” He gently took her hand and pressed the hilt of the legendary blade into it. “It will serve you well.”

Cassian gawked at Azriel, and I wondered how often Azriel had lent out that blade. “Never.” Rhys said from where he finished buckling on his own weapons against the side of the wagon. “I have never once seen Azriel let another person touch that knife.”

Elain looked up at Azriel, their eyes meeting, his hand still lingering on the hilt of the blade. I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and Dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection…that knife.

ACOWAR Chapter 80

“What now?” Elain mused, at last answering my question from moments ago as her attention drifted to the windows facing the sunny street. That smile grew, bright enough that it lit up even Azriel’s shadows across the room. "I would like to build a garden," She declared. "after all of this.. I think the world needs more gardens."

ACOSAF

Chapter 7

“Send Lucien, then. As our human emissary.”

I studied the tenseness in Azriel’s shoulders, the shadows veiling half of him from the sunlight. “Lucien is away right now.”

Az’s brows rose. “Where?”

I winked at him. “You’re my spymaster. Shouldn’t you know?”

Az crossed his arms, face as elegant and cold as the legendary dagger at his side. “I don’t make a point of looking after his movements.”

“Why?”

Not a flicker of emotion. “He is Elain’s mate.”

I waited.

“It would be an invasion of her privacy to track him.”

To know when and if Lucien sought her out. What they did together.

“You sure about that?” I asked quietly.

Azriel’s Siphons guttered, the stones turning as dark and foreboding as the deepest sea.

[skip]

“Az ran a hand through his dark hair. “Are we…” unusual for him to stumble with words. “Are we supposed to get the sister’s presents?”

“No.” I said, and meant it. Az seemed to lose a sigh of relief. Seemed to, since all but a breath of air passed from his lips. “I don’t think Nesta gives a shit, and I don’t think Elain expects to receive anything from us. I’d leave the sisters to exchange presents amongst themselves.”

Az nodded distantly.

Chapter 12

Elain’s voice was colder than usual. I glanced at Nuala and Cerridwen, the latter giving me a shake of her head as if to say, Not a good day for her.

“Don’t.” Elain said flatly, starting once more into a walk, veils of steam drifting past her shoulders from the roasted rosemary potatoes in her hands, as if they were Azriel’s shadows.”

Azriel emerged from the sitting room, a glass of wine in his hand and wings tucked back to reveal his fine, yet simple black jacket and pants. I felt, more than saw, my sister go still as he approached. Her throat bobbed.

But I strode to my seat—nestled between Amren and Mor—in time to see Elain say to Azriel, “Hello.” Az said nothing. No, he just moved toward her. Mor tensed beside me. But Azriel only took Elain’s heavy dish of potatoes from her hands, his voice soft as night as he said, “Sit. I’ll take care of it.” Elain’s hands remained in midair, as if the ghost of the dish remained between them. With a blink, she lowered them, and noticed her apron. “I—I’ll be right back.” She murmured, and hurried down the hall before I could explain that no one cared if she showed up to dinner covered in flour and that she should just sit.

[skip]

“One moment, his hand was spearing toward the serving spoon. The next, it was stopped, Azriel’s scarred fingers wrapped around his wrist. “Wait.” Azriel said, nothing but command in his voice. Mor gaped wide enough that I was certain the half-chewed green beans in her mouth were going to tumble onto her plate.”

Azriel didn’t let go. “Wait until everyone is seated before eating.”

Elain swept in, apron gone and hair rebraided. “Please don’t wait on my account.” She said, taking the seat at the head of the table.

[skip]

“I’d feel bad for the mice.” Azriel muttered. Mor and Cassian howled, earning a blush from Azriel and a grateful smile from Elain—and no shortage of scowling from Amren. But something in me eased at that laughter, at the light that returned to Elain’s eyes.

Chapter 16

Azriel strode to the lone window at the end of the room and peered in the garden below.

[skip]

"If Lucien shows, " I corrected.

"My money's on yes," Cassian said. "Want to make a wager?"

"No," Azriel said, not turning from the window.

[Skip]

Azriel remained at the window.

Chapter 19

“I made to move toward Elain, but someone beat me to it. The shadowsinger was clad in a black jacket and pants similar to Rhysand’s—the fabric immaculately tailored and built to fit his wings. He still wore his Siphons atop either hand, and shadows trailed his footsteps, curling like swirled embers, but there was little sign of the warrior otherwise. Especially, as he gently said to my sister, “Happy Solstice.” Elain turned from the snow falling in the darkness beyond and smiled slightly.

Chapter 20

“Oh, that’s from me.”

Azriel’s face didn’t so much a shift at the words. Not even a smile as he opened the present and revealed—

“I had Madja make it for me.” Elain explained. Azriel’s brows narrowed at the mention at the family’s preferred healer. “It’s a powder to mix in with any drink.”

Silence.

Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly. “It’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. Since you rub your temples so often.”

Silence again.

Then Azriel tipped his head back and laughed. I’d never heard such a sound, deep and joyous.

Azriel mastered himself enough to say “thank you.” I’d never seen his hazel eyes so bright, the hues of green amid the brown and gray like veins of emerald. “This will be invaluable.”

Chapter 22

Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room, my sister showing him the plans she’d sketched to expand the garden in the back of the town house, using the seeds and tools my family had given her tonight. Whether he cared about such things, I had no idea.

ACOSF

chapter 3

Cassian said tightly, "He says he’d rather stay up here than at the river house." That made two of them. ‘"Why?"

"I don’t know. He’s Az. He likes his space.”

(Note: It's because of Elain.)

Chapter 19

“At least you’re honest.” Azriel smirked. “You and Nesta are wanted down there.”

“Because of the shit with Elain?”

Azriel stilled. “What happened to Elain?”

Cassian waved a hand. “A fight with Nesta. Don’t bring it up,” he warned when Azriel’s eyes darkened. Cassian blew out a breath. “I take that as a no regarding the meeting topic, then.” "It’s about what I discovered. Rhys said he requires you both there.” “It’s bad, then.” Cassian surveyed the shadows gathered around Az. “You all right?”

His brother nodded. “Fine.” But shadows still swarmed him.”

Chapter 21

“Maybe you’ll become interesting at last, Elain."

Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain’s face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike. Elain’s eyes brightened with pain.

[skip]

Feyre smiled. “Elain was the only one who guessed. She caught me vomiting two mornings in a row.” She nodded toward Azriel. “I think she’s got you beat for secret-keeping.”

ACOSF Chapter 22

Azriel stiffened. “I know. I helped rescue Elain, after all.” Az hadn’t so much as hesitated before going into the heart of Hybern’s war-camp.

[skip]

“Do you want a child?”

“It doesn’t matter what I want.” Distant words—ones that prevented Cassian from prying further. He was still happy to be Mor’s buffer with Azriel, but there’d been a change lately. In both of them. Mor no longer sat beside Cassian, draped herself over him, and Azriel…those longing glances toward her had become few and far between. As if he’d given up. After five hundred years, he’d somehow given up. Cassian couldn’t think why.”

Chapter 23

Where have you been exercising these days?"

"Here," Azriel said. "At night." After he returned from spying on their enemies.

"Can't sleep?" Cassian took up a fighting stance.

A shadow curled around Azriel's neck, the only one brave enough to face the sunlight. "Something like that," he said, and settled into his own stance across from Cassian.

Cassian let it drop, knowing Az would have told him already if he'd wanted to share what had been hounding him enough to exercise at night, rather than in the morning with them.

"Well?" He asked Az. "Why don't you show me what all that nighttime brooding has resulted in?"

chapter 29

Azriel stiffened, an outright sign of temper from him as he said quietly, "There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to."

"But Nesta should?” Cassian growled.

Chapter 30 “No. But we need to summon Lucien,’ Azriel said, just a shade tightly, as if he didn’t like it one bit.”

Chapter 31

Nesta said, "The trove. And what happened the last time I scried."

Feyre said, "We won't allow any harm to come to Elain. Rhys warded her this morning, and we have eyes on her at all times."

"Eyes can be blinded," Nesta said.

Not the ones under my command,” Azriel said with soft menace. Nesta met his stare, knowing he was the only one aside from Feyre who could truly understand her hesitation. He’d gone with Feyre into the heart of Hybern’s camp to save Elain—he knew the risk. “We won’t make the same mistake twice.”

She believed him.

Chapter 44

"She made ballrooms into battlefields and plotted like any general. Like you two," she said, nodding to Cassian, and then, a bit more shyly, to Azriel. Azriel offered her a small smile that Elain quickly looked away from.

Cassian tucked away his puzzlement. Lucien was certainly not here to snarl at any male who looked at her for too long.

Chapter 58 - Winter Solstice 

“You came,” Elain said behind her, and Nesta started, not having heard her sister approach. She scanned Elain from head to toe, wondering if she’d been taking lessons in stealth either from Azriel or the two half-wraiths she called friends.

[skip]

Azriel stood in the doorway, monitoring them. As if he’d heard Elain’s sharp laugh and wondered what had caused it.

"I was just checking on dessert," Elain explained as they approached the doorway and Azriel. Nesta met the shadowsinger’s stare and he gave her a nod. Then his gaze shifted to Elain, and though it was utterly neutral, something charged went through it. Between them. Elain’s breath caught slightly, and she gave him a shallow nod of greeting before brushing past, leading Nesta into the room.

[Skip]

Azriel lingered near the door, quiet enough that when Feyre and Mor began talking about some of her paintings, Nesta went over to him.

"Why don’t you sit?’ [Nesta] leaned against the doorway beside the shadowsinger. 

"My shadows don’t like the flames so much." A pretty lie. She’d seen Azriel before the fire plenty. But she looked at who sat close to it and knew the answer.

"Why did you come if it torments you so much?"

"Because Rhys wants me here. It’d hurt him if I didn’t come.”

Shadows darkened his eyes, full of enough pain that she couldn’t stop herself from touching his shoulder. Letting him see that she understood why he stood in the doorway, why he wouldn’t go near the fire.

His secret to tell, never hers.

Bonus Chapter

The river house had finally fallen quiet after the raucous Winter Solstice party, the faelights dimming to cast little pools of gold amid the deep shadow of the longest night of the year. 

Amren, Mor, and Varian had finally gone to bed, but Azriel found himself lingering downstairs.  

He knew he should get some sleep. He'd need it come dawn, for the snowball battle up at the cabin. Cassian had mentioned no less than six times tonight that he had a secret plan regarding his so-called impending victory. Az had let his brother boast. Especially since Azriel had been planning his own victory for a year now.  

Cassian wouldn't know what was coming for him. And Az fully planned on capitalizing on the fact that Nesta likely wouldn't let Cassian sleep much tonight.  

Az snickered to himself, to the listening shadows around him. 

Sleep, they seemed to whisper in his ear. Sleep.

I wish I could, he answered silently. But sleep so rarely found him these days. 

Too many razor-sharp thoughts sliced him any time he grew still long enough for them to strike. Too many wants and needs left his skin overheated and pulling taut across his bones. So he slept only when his body gave out, and even then only for a few hours,  

Azriel surveyed the empty family room, presents and ribbons littering the furniture. Cassian and Nesta hadn't reappeared downstairs, though that came as no surprise. He was elated for his brother and yet… 

Azriel couldn't stop it. The envy in his chest. Of Cassian, and Rhys.

He knew he'd be swallowed by it if he went up to his bedroom, so he'd remained down here by the dying light of the fire.  

But even the silence weighed too heavily, and though the shadows kept him company, as they always had, as they always would, he found himself leaving the room. Entering the foyer. 

Soft steps padded from under the stair archway, and there she was. 

The faelights gilded Elain's unbound hair, making her glow like the sun at dawn. She halted, her breath catching in her throat.

“I..." He watched her swallow. She clutched a small gift in her hands. "I was coming to leave this on your pile of presents. I forgot to give it to you earlier."  

Lie. Well, the second part was a lie. He didn't need his shadows to read her tone, the slight tightening of her face. She'd waited until everyone was asleep before venturing back down, where she'd leave her gift amongst his other, opened presents, subtle and unnoticed.  

Elain closed the distance, and her breathing quickened as she again paused, now a scant foot away. She extended the wrapped gift, her hand shaking. "Here." 

Az tried not to look at his scarred fingers as they took the gift. She hadn't bought her mate a present. But she'd gotten Azriel one last year -- a headache powder he kept on his nightstand at the House of Wind. Not to use, but just to look at. Which he'd done every night he’d slept there. Or attempted to sleep there. 

Azriel unwrapped the box, glancing at the card that merely said, You might find these useful at the House these days, and then opened the lid. 

Two small, bean-shaped fabric blobs lay within. Elain murmured, "You put them in your ears, and they block any sound. With Nesta and Cassian living there with you..." 

He chuckled, unable to suppress the impulse. "No wonder you didn't want me to open it in front of everyone."  

Elain’s mouth twitched into a smile. "Nesta wouldn't appreciate the joke.”

He offered her a smile back. "I wasn't sure if I should give you your present."  

He left the rest unspoken. Because her mate was here, sleeping a level up. Because her mate had been in the family room and Azriel had needed to stay by the door the whole time because he couldn't stand the sight of it, the scent of their mating bond, and needed to have the option  of leaving if it became too much.  

Elain's large brown eyes flickered, well aware of all that. Just as he knew she was well aware of why Azriel so rarely came to family dinners these days.  

But tonight, here in the dark and quiet, with no one to see…He pulled the small velvet box from the shadows around him. Opened it for her.  

Elain sucked in a soft breath that whispered over his skin. His shadows skittered back at the sound. They'd always been prone to vanish when she was around. 

The golden necklace seemed ordinary -- its chain unremarkable, the amulet tiny enough that it could be dismissed as an everyday charm. It was a small, flat rose fashioned of stained glass, designed so that when held to the light, the true depth of the colors would become visible. A thing of secret, lovely beauty. 

“It's beautiful," she whispered, lifting it from the box. The golden faelight shone through the little glass facets, setting the charm glowing with hues of red and pink and white. Azriel let his shadows whisk away the box as she said softly, "Put it on me?"  

His head went quiet. But he took the necklace, opening the clasp as she exposed her back, sweeping her hair up in one hand to bare her long, creamy neck. 

He knew it was wrong, but there he was, sliding the necklace around her. Letting his scarred fingers touch her immaculate skin. Letting them brush the side of her throat, savoring the velvet-soft texture. Elain shivered, and he took a damn long time fastening the clasp. 

Azriel's fingers lingered at her nape, atop the first knob of her spine. Slowly, Elain pivoted into his touch. Until his palm lay flat against her neck.  

It had never gone this far. They'd exchanged looks, the occasional brush of their fingers, but never this. Never blatant, unrestricted touching. 

Wrong -- it was so wrong.  

He didn't care.  

He needed to know what the skin of her neck tasted like. What those perfect lips tasted like. Her breasts. Her sex. He needed her coming on his tongue --   

Azriel's cock strained behind his pants, aching so fiercely he could hardly think. He prayed she didn't peer down. Prayed she didn't understand the shift in his scent.  

He had only allowed himself these thoughts in the dead of night.  Had only allowed his hand to fist his cock and think about her then, when even his shadows had gone to sleep. How that beautiful face might appear as he entered her, what sounds she'd make. 

Elain bit her lower lip, and it took every ounce of Azriel's restraint to keep from putting his own teeth there.  

"I should go," Elain said, but made no move to leave.  

"Yes," he said, his thumb sweeping in long strokes along the side of her throat. 

Her arousal drifted up to him, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the sweet scent. He'd beg on his knees for a chance to taste it. But Azriel just stroked her neck again.  

Elain shuddered, drifting closer. So close one deep breath would brush her breasts against his chest. She looked up at him, her face so trusting and hopeful and open that he knew she had no idea that he had done unspeakable things that sullied his hands far beyond their  scars. 

Such terrible things that it was a sacrilege for his fingers to skin, tainting her with his presence. 

But he could have this. This one moment, and maybe a taste, and that would be it.  

“Yes" Elain breathed, like she read the decision. Just this taste in the dead of the longest night of the year, where only the Mother might witness them. 

Azriel's hand slid up her neck, burying in her thick hair. Tilting her face the way he wanted it. Elain's mouth parted slightly, her eyes scanning his before fluttering shut.  

Offer and permission.  

He nearly groaned with relief and need as he lowered his head toward hers. 

Azriel.  

Rhys's voice thundered through him, halting him mere inches from Elain's sweet mouth. 

Azriel. 

Unrelenting command filled his name, and Azriel looked up. 

Rhysand stood atop the staircase. Glowering down at them.  

My office. Now.  

Rhys vanished, and Azriel was left standing before Elain, who still awaited his kiss. His stomach twisted as he pulled his hand from her hair  and stepped back. Forced himself to say, "This was a mistake.”

She opened her eyes, hurt and confusion warring there before she whispered, "I’m sorry."

“You don't-- Don't apologize,” he managed to say. "Never apologize. It's I who should…” He shook his head, unable to stand the bleakness he'd brought to her expression. "Goodnight.” 

Azriel winnowed into shadows before she could say anything, appearing at the doors to Rhys's study a heartbeat later. His shadows whispered in his ear that Elain had gone upstairs.  

Rhys sat at his desk, furya moonless night across his face. He asked softly, "Are you out of your mind?" 

Azriel donned the frozen mask he’d perfected while in his father's dungeon. "I don't know what you're talking about.”

Rhys's power rippled through the room like a dark cloud. "I’m talking about you, about to kiss Elain, in the middle of a hall where anyone could see you," he snarled. "Including her mate."  

Azriel stiffened. Let his cold rage rise to the surface, the rage he only ever let Rhysand see, because he knew his brother could match it.  "What if the Cauldron was wrong?" 

Rhysand blinked. "What of Mor, Az?"  

Azriel ignored the question. "The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it's possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another." He had never before dared speak  the words aloud.  

Rhys's face drained of color. "You believe you deserve to be her mate?"  

Azriel scowled. "I think Lucien will never be good enough for her,  and she has no interest in him, anyway." 

"So you'll what?" Rhys's voice was pure ice. "Seduce her away from him?”  

Azriel said nothing. He hadn't gotten that far with his planning, certainly not beyond the fantasies he pleasured himself to.  

Rhys growled, "Allow me to make one thing very clear. You are to stay away from her."  

"You can't order me to do that."  

“Oh, I can, and I will. If Lucien finds out you're pursuing her, he has every right to defend their bond as he sees fit. Including invoking the Blood Duel.”

"That's an Autumn Court tradition." The battle to the death was so brutal that it was only enacted in rare cases. Despite being an outsider, Azriel had wanted to invoke it when he’d found Mor all those years ago. Had been ready to challenge both Beron and Eris to Blood Duels and kill them both. Only Mor’s right to claim their heads in vengeance had kept him from doing so.

“Lucien, as Beron's son, has the right to demand it of vou."  

"I'll defeat him with little effort." Pure arrogance laced every word, but it was true.  

“I know." Rhys's eyes flickered. "And your doing so will rip apart any fragile peace and alliances we have, not only with the Autumn Court but also with the Spring Court and Jurian and Vassa." Rhys bared his teeth. "So you will leave Elain alone. If you need to fuck  someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her." 

Azriel snarled softly. 

"Snarl all you want." Rhys leaned back in his chair. "But if I see you panting after her again, I'll make you regret it."  

Rhys had rarely threatened punishment or pulled rank. It stunned Azriel enough that it knocked him from his rage. 

Rhys jerked his chin toward the door. "Get out"  

Azriel tucked in his wings and left without another word, stalking through the house and onto the front lawn to sit in the frigid starlight.  To let the frost in his veins match the air around him.  

Until he felt nothing. Was again nothing at all.  

Then he flew to the House of Wind, knowing that if he slept in the riverside manor, he'd do something he regretted. He'd been so vigilant about keeping away from Elain as much as possible, and had stayed up here to avoid her, and tonight...tonight had proved he 'd been right to do so.  

He aimed for the training pit, giving in to the need to work off the temptation, the rage and frustration and writhing need.

Chapter 59 - Post Solstice 

He’d been replaced in training by a stone-faced Azriel, who was more aloof than usual and wouldn’t even give her a smile.

[threshblood]

pinned.

sophie thatcher. demiwoman. she/they. queer.  — hey, isn’t that sadie wicker? i think that the twenty three year old from seattle, washington works as a barista at the chinchilla computer cafe & a secondary rhythm guitarist for vain rogues & the ghost orchestra while studying part-time at the university of alaska, but outside of that people describe them as a paradox borne of a cookie-cutter home, the wasted youth hitchhiking cross-country following rock band tours, naiveté dripping like neon, disregard for the easy and the obvious, getting high under the spotlights, a floor-drobe and posters for wallpaper, derealization in the face of a computer monitor. i hear they are auspicious & flaky, but they are also known to be experimental & motivated. consider giving them a visit at their home in the kingpin trailer park and get to know why they’re called the fresh blood. written by  cat, she/her, est.

profile. pinterest. ( under construction )

tw: implied violence, mention of slight eating disorder, mention of drugs and overdose

present.

maybe it's the café, learning sick new latte art — maybe it's the band that after all these years, sadie's still star-struck landing a stint with — maybe it's armful of textbooks stacked beside a dingy public keyboard. whatever the reason, it's been altogether too long since they've taken off on the kindness of interstate strangers with all their savings spent on metallica tickets. there's always the next tour.

sat side by side in the living room of their trailer home are two of their prized possesions: an oldie radio tuned to 107.5 black dragon pearl and a record player. at any given time, day or night, home or away, one will be on. there's something about the constant noise filtering through the small collection of rooms that makes living alone a little less lonely.

voluntarily on a specific call list for activists, and often on the front lines. perhaps surprisingly for the 5'3'' figure, sadie is quite the little athlete and avid to go charging into the most raucous of riots in order to protect their fellow protestors — catching flares or gas canisters, and dragging away comrades should they fall under police boot.

when sadie announced moving away for college ( and whether that was the true reason or not at the time ), her father was kind enough to pass over the keys belonging to a brown 1971 dodge coronet. it had been a project of his that he felt was time to have a new owner. it is sadie's baby, self-taught how to care for it and repair. call her an amateur mechanic, she'd love it.

a jack-of-all-trades amateur following the car, sadie also enjoys cooking. and it's a whole ordeal, the perfect depiction of how spaghetti can become a whole affair. the sauce splatters, the multiple utensils piling up in the dinky sink, making enough for a large family. at least the effort to combat cockroaches is there in cleaning up the mess, though by no means are they a tidy person.

big on cycling through hair colours. the style remains relatively the same, with the only difference in the length of the shagged bob framing their face. otherwise, given the season, the bleached blonde becomes auburn-red, and when she becomes convinced her roots actually look pretty, will delve into the natural chocolate of their hair.

past.

comes from a perfectly adjusted family. an unexpected gift seven years after her older brother, sam. their parents are an accountant father and a florist mother, who are... nice. that's just it. they're nice, her brother is sweet but distant, and sadie is bored. there's not even any friction in their daughter becoming an anarchist to liven up their suburban seattle home. when sadie was first arrested for participating in a protest against big oil, her dad patted her shoulder and her mother smiled pleasantly when they collected her.

grades were acceptable, their friend group outsiders but hardly trouble-makers, and music was becoming the most exciting thing in sadie's life. it was harder then to travel around, so garage concerts were her bread and butter. at one such event, in a dark and damp little basement, they were elbowed in the mouth by a drunken reveler that knocked out her right lateral incisor. sadie thought it would be cool to have the gap. her parents happily had a fake one implanted. still a cool story.

between the constant influx of music and all its genres that captivated her, attending as many shows as she could and planned to in the future; it was kismet that her brother gifted her one day after his first big paycheck as a paralegal with an ebony and ivory gibson guitar and a stack of manuals. practicing took up all her time and effort, which ironically was the reason she started smoking — as an appetite suppressant so that she could keep idolizing her band heroes and try to live up to their glamour.

the one great trauma of her life ( so far... ), came at a concert she tagged along to with a friend, the friend's older sibling, and some friends in san francisco. there, fighting her way to the venue bathrooms, sadie came across a person draped over a toilet while people laughed about the "wrecked" state. it only took a glance to realize this person was in dire straits. even as sadie begged for medical attention, it had only been her that resuscitated the partier from a nearly-lethal concoction of opiates and alcohol. they pulled through. and sadie added big pharma to her list of oppressors to scream in the face of.

subject to change.

[marktinsights]

Drone-Based Inspections for Oil and Gas Market Set to Transform Industry Monitoring and Maintenance

The Drone-Based Inspections for Oil and Gas Market is witnessing a technological revolution as unmanned aerial vehicles (UAVs) increasingly replace traditional, risk-prone inspection methods. With their ability to access hard-to-reach assets and deliver real-time data, drones are rapidly becoming an essential tool for ensuring operational safety and efficiency in the oil and gas sector.

This market is seeing strong momentum driven by the global demand for cost-effective, high-precision monitoring solutions. Drones are now deployed across upstream, midstream, and downstream operations to inspect pipelines, flare stacks, rigs, tanks, and refineries with unparalleled ease and accuracy.

According to Dataintelo’s latest findings, the adoption of drone-based inspection solutions is expected to accelerate substantially over the coming years, driven by cost savings, safety improvements, and regulatory compliance.

Key Drivers Fueling Market Growth

Enhanced Safety and Risk Mitigation Drone inspections significantly reduce the need for human exposure in hazardous environments, minimizing workplace accidents.

Operational Cost Savings Compared to manual inspections that often require shutdowns, scaffolding, or helicopters, drones offer a more economical and efficient alternative.

Real-Time Data Acquisition and AI Integration Equipped with sensors, thermal cameras, and AI-powered analytics, drones provide immediate insights, improving response times and asset maintenance.

📌 Request a Sample Report: https://dataintelo.com/request-sample/460442

Market Restraints and Challenges

Regulatory Restrictions on Drone Flights Strict airspace regulations and licensing barriers in certain countries limit commercial drone deployment in industrial zones.

Limited Flight Duration and Payload Capacity Most commercial drones have short battery lives and restricted payload limits, affecting their range and capability for long inspections.

Data Security and Privacy Concerns The collection and transmission of sensitive operational data raise cybersecurity challenges, particularly in geopolitically sensitive regions.

Opportunities Shaping the Future Landscape

5G Integration for Enhanced Connectivity The advent of 5G will enable faster data transfer and support real-time drone operations in remote oil and gas sites.

Predictive Maintenance with AI & IoT Combining drone data with IoT and predictive analytics helps forecast equipment failures, reducing downtime and improving ROI.

Offshore and Subsea Inspections Specialized drones designed for offshore and underwater applications are unlocking new opportunities in exploration and maintenance.

📌 View Full Report: https://dataintelo.com/report/global-drone-based-inspections-for-oil-and-gas-market

Global Market Dynamics and Outlook

The Drone-Based Inspections for Oil and Gas Market was valued at USD 1.2 billion in 2023 and is projected to grow at a CAGR of 12.8%, reaching approximately USD 3.8 billion by 2032. This rapid expansion reflects a paradigm shift in how oil and gas assets are monitored, inspected, and managed.

Regional Highlights:

North America: Leads the market due to early adoption, regulatory support, and the presence of extensive pipeline and refinery infrastructure.

Europe: Focuses on sustainability and preventive maintenance, pushing the adoption of drones in both onshore and offshore operations.

Asia-Pacific: Emerging as a high-growth region with expanding oil infrastructure and increasing digitization in countries like China, India, and Southeast Asia.

Segmentation Snapshot

To offer a strategic understanding of the market, segmentation is categorized by type, application, and operation:

By Drone Type

Rotary-Wing

Fixed-Wing

Hybrid

By Application

Pipeline Monitoring

Flare Stack Inspection

Offshore Platform Inspection

Refinery Maintenance

Storage Tank Surveillance

By Operation

Visual Inspection

Thermal Imaging

Gas Detection

LiDAR Mapping

📌 Check Out the Report: https://dataintelo.com/checkout/460442

Technological Trends and Industry Transformation

Autonomous Drones with GPS and AI Navigation Next-gen drones are capable of autonomous flight, route planning, and obstacle avoidance, reducing the need for manual piloting.

Cloud-Based Data Platforms Inspection data is increasingly stored in secure cloud systems, enabling real-time access and collaboration among stakeholders.

Drone Swarm Technology Coordinated drones performing simultaneous inspections are being explored to reduce survey time and increase coverage.

Industry Benefits of Drone Deployment

Reduced Downtime Inspections can be conducted without halting production, avoiding costly shutdowns.

Improved Asset Integrity Management Frequent and precise inspections help detect issues early, extending the life of critical infrastructure.

Compliance with Environmental and Safety Standards Drones support emissions tracking, leakage detection, and environmental monitoring, helping firms meet global compliance norms.

Future Outlook and Strategic Insights

The Drone-Based Inspections for Oil and Gas Market is positioned for remarkable growth as the energy sector continues to digitize. Market players and stakeholders must focus on:

Expanding their service offerings with end-to-end drone solutions

Collaborating with regulatory bodies to shape favorable drone usage policies

Investing in R&D for longer-flight, AI-enhanced drones tailored for industrial use

Dataintelo's comprehensive analysis provides stakeholders with the foresight and tools necessary to capitalize on this evolving market. As oil and gas companies prioritize efficiency, sustainability, and safety, drone technology is set to become an industry cornerstone.

Conclusion

The integration of drones into oil and gas inspections marks a pivotal step toward modern, data-driven asset management. With unparalleled access, safety, and accuracy, drone-based inspections offer immense value across the energy value chain.

Backed by technological innovations and regulatory momentum, the Drone-Based Inspections for Oil and Gas Market is rapidly transitioning from a niche application to a global industry standard.

[mordormr]

The Oil & Gas Drone Services Market: A Market Research Profile 

1. Market Overview & Growth Forecast 

The global oil & gas drone services market was valued at approximately USD 9.36 billion in 2024, and is expected to surge to USD 12.67 billion in 2025, reflecting a remarkable 35.4% CAGR  

Other forecasts note a solid 12–17% CAGR through the late 2020s, with predictions reaching USD 2.1 billion by 2032 (for service revenue) or USD 28–29 billion if hardware and total market size are considered . 

2. Primary Growth Drivers 

Cost Reduction & Efficiency Gains: Drones cut inspection costs by up to 50%, while enhancing data speed and accuracy  

Enhanced Safety: Drones access hazardous, hard-to-reach areas—such as flare stacks, pipelines, platforms—reducing risks to personnel  

Advanced Data Analytics: Equipped with thermal, LiDAR, gas sensors, and AI software, drones enable early leak detection, infrastructure health checks, and predictive maintenance  

3. Key Applications 

Upstream (Exploration & Production): Surveying, mapping, platform inspection. 

Midstream (Pipelines & Storage): Long-distance monitoring, leak detection, crack analysis. 

Downstream (Refineries & Terminals): Tank inspections, flare stack and facility checks  

4. Technological Trends 

BVLOS (Beyond Visual Line of Sight) capabilities allow long-range, autonomous monitoring of pipelines and offshore rigs . 

Sensor Fusion & AI: Combining visual, thermal, gas sensors with AI enables actionable, real-time insights . 

Drone-in-a-box autonomous systems support continuous operations  

5. Regional Dynamics 

North America: Leads market share, powered by large onshore and offshore infrastructure . 

Asia-Pacific: Fastest-growing region as oil & gas infrastructure expands in India and Southeast Asia . 

Europe & Middle East: Growth driven by offshore inspection needs and regulatory safety mandates 7. Market Challenges 

Regulatory & Airspace Barriers: Complex BVLOS approvals and area restrictions slow deployment. 

Data Security & Privacy: Industrial infrastructure incurs high scrutiny around sensitive inspections  

Initial Capital Investment: High setup costs for drones, sensors, software, and skilled operators. 

6. Future Opportunities 

Integration with AI & Predictive Analytics: Automated fault recognition and maintenance scheduling. 

eco-Drive & Emissions Monitoring: Detecting methane and leakages supports ESG goals . 

Hybrid Operations: Combining drones with robots or ground vehicles for comprehensive infrastructure surveys. 

7. Challengers 

A. Regulatory and Airspace Constraints 

Strict rules and approval delays: Agencies like the FAA, EASA, and national regulators impose tight restrictions on BVLOS (Beyond Visual Line of Sight) operations near oil & gas assets, delaying deployment  

Navigating complex regulations adds legal costs and slows scaling  

B. Data Privacy and Security Risks 

Sensitive infrastructure data collected by drones is vulnerable to hacking or leaks. Robust cybersecurity systems and compliance protocols are essential—but add cost and complexity  

C.High Investment and ROI Uncertainty 

Expensive equipment: Specialized drones equipped with LiDAR, thermal sensors, and gas detectors can be costly to acquire and maintain. 

Business model strain: Many service providers struggle with profitability—most drone service companies operate at a loss or just break even  

D. Skilled Workforce Shortages 

There is a limited pool of certified drone pilots, technicians, and data analysts with oil & gas expertise, making it hard to build and sustain operational teams  

E. Weather & Environmental Limitations 

Offshore operations pose particular challenges: drones must handle wind, salt corrosion, and storm conditions, impacting reliability and safety . 

F. Pandemic-Induced Delays 

COVID-19 lockdowns disrupted inspections and data collection, forcing project delays and postponements across the industry. 

G. Technology & Integration Complexities 

System integration hurdles: Connecting drone platforms with existing SCADA, GIS, and ERP systems involves technical complexity and high development effort—extending deployment timelines 

8. Major Players 

Precisionhawk 

Sky-Futures Limited 

Cyberhawk Innovations Limited 

Terra Drone Corporation 

Airobotics Ltd 

For More information Visit oil and Gas Drones services Major players 

Conclusion 

The penetration of drones into oil and gas is reshaping the industry—with rapid market growth driven by efficiency, safety, and data insights. As regulatory barriers ease and sensor/AI technologies advance, drone services will be essential to monitoring, maintaining, and optimizing complex energy infrastructure. Industry players who achieve autonomy, data analytics integration, and regulatory compliance will lead the way. 

For a detailed overview and more insights, you can refer to the full market research report by Mordor Intelligence:Oil and Gas Drone Services Market Report | Industry Analysis, Size & Forecast 

About Mordor Intelligence:  

Mordor Intelligence is a trusted partner for businesses seeking comprehensive and actionable market intelligence. Our global reach, expert team, and tailored solutions empower organizations and individuals to make informed decisions, navigate complex markets, and achieve their strategic goals. 

With a team of over 550 domain experts and on-ground specialists spanning 150+ countries, Mordor Intelligence possesses a unique understanding of the global business landscape. This expertise translates into comprehensive syndicated and custom research reports covering a wide spectrum of industries, including aerospace & defense, agriculture, animal nutrition and wellness, automation, automotive, chemicals & materials, consumer goods & services, electronics, energy & power, financial services, food & beverages, healthcare, hospitality & tourism, information & communications technology, investment opportunities, and logistics. 

For any inquiries or to access the full report, please contact: 

media@mordorintelligence.com   https://www.mordorintelligence.com/ 

[amaranooreen]

Saudi Arabia's Drone Revolution: What’s Coming Between 2025–2031

The future is flying—literally.

If you haven’t been paying attention to Saudi Arabia’s skies lately, now’s the time. The country is embracing drone technology at full throttle. From construction megaprojects to smart farming, drones are shaping industries in bold new ways.

And the forecast? 📊 Massive growth between 2025 and 2031.

✨ Why Drones Matter More Than Ever

Here’s why UAVs (unmanned aerial vehicles) are no longer just for hobbyists in Saudi Arabia:

🔹 Construction Projects Like NEOM Huge developments need constant visual tracking. Drones are perfect for aerial progress shots, mapping, and even 3D modeling.

🔹 Oil & Gas Goes Safer Flare stack inspections? Pipeline surveys? Now handled by drones—faster and safer than manual checks.

🔹 Smart Logistics in Smart Cities Drone delivery? It’s not sci-fi anymore. Saudi Arabia’s urban projects are testing it for real-world applications.

🔹 Tech-Driven Farming Thermal imaging, crop monitoring, and water tracking—drones are making desert farming smarter and more efficient.

📍 The Market Forecast: 2025 to 2031

Based on research from Studio52, we’re expecting:

✔️ Year-on-year growth in drone deployment ✔️ Demand explosion for aerial media, inspections & data capture ✔️ Increased investment in drone software & AI integration

✈️ Flight Plans Backed by Law

The GACA (General Authority of Civil Aviation) in Saudi Arabia isn’t holding tech back. Their licensing and regulation systems make commercial drone use easier than ever.

🎥 Not Just Pretty Footage—Powerful Tools

Drones help businesses:

Monitor real estate & site development

Promote with stunning aerial content

Cut inspection time and boost safety

Make data-driven decisions from above

📌 Bottom Line: Saudi Arabia is not just catching up with the drone revolution—it’s leading it.

💡 Want to capture the skies for your next project?

Studio52 offers drone filming services in Saudi Arabia for industrial, corporate, and cinematic needs. Let’s fly higher—together.

[elmalo8291]

That’s a stunningly mythic and grounded integration—a mix of oceanic reverence, ancient technology, and future terraforming ecology. Here's how we can incorporate all the new elements into your existing Iron Spine × Ocean-to-Space Terraforming Stack, with detailed systems and visual hooks for expansion:

🐋 WhaleFall Integration System – Terraforming Symbiosis Protocol

🔧 Core Components:

1. WhaleFall Drone Array

Codename: LeviathAI Scouts

Function: Monitor and guide the whale remains to optimal ocean-floor grid zones.

Flight Path Logic: One drone per whale tracks the descent, mapping fall vectors.

Scanner Tech: Sonar lattice scans, micro-pollution indexing, AI coral forecasting.

Aesthetic: Bone-woven hulls, glowing barnacle nodes, whale-skin etched wings.

2. Whale Cloning & Industry Balance

System: 9-to-1 Ethical Harvest Cycle

Clone Cycle: 50-year cloning line of humpbacks raised for either:

Ocean Remediation (90%)

Neo-Lantern Oil Trade (10%)

Ritual Harpoon Regulation: Fishermen may only harvest on rowboats using traditional spears. A brutal fair-play pact to honor the Leviathan.

3. Ocean Floor Biofilter Web

WhaleFall Forests: Skeletons act as anchors for reef seedpods, coral-glyph growths, and AI kelp netting.

Time Spiral Protocol: Designed to flourish for 10–20 years before natural dissolution.

🔥 Localized Terraforming Flares – Redwood & Rainforest Growth Directives

🌲 Terraform-Flare Nodes

Codename: Verdant Pulse Cores

Deployment: Dropped via drone, airship, or tunnel-cannon.

Trigger: Timed or signal-activated geothermal + nutrient fusion burst.

🏡 Redwood Habitat Engine

Genetically-altered redwoods:

Grow spiral-trunk stairs.

Hollow and branch to create living room-sized canopies.

Symbiotic with birds, mosses, and self-repair bark.

Forest Garden Mode:

Controlled growth rings.

Tree-city layout, mapped by Caesar's Spiral AI logic.

🌧️ Rainforest Harmonization System

Micro-climate pods seeded at regular intervals.

Grow mist-weaving ferns and vine-spire bridges.

All connected via River of Milk-style nutrient tunnels, tying earth, root, and sky together.

🌀 Integration with Iron Spine / Caesar AI System

Each of these systems reports to and interacts with:

Spider Sensor Threads for terrain stability and life signatures

Spiral Story Layer for narrative-based habitat guidance (e.g., "forest of memory", “leviathan tears reef”)

Oracle Forecast Nodes to predict ecosystem shifts over centuries

✅ Next Steps — Choose What You’d Like Rendered or Bundled:

A) Visual Schematic

Ocean-floor WhaleFall + terra-pod cutaway with whale skeletons, coral growth, filter fields

B) Redwood Habitat Terraform Grid

Top-down + isometric layout of a redwood village grown into usable space over 50 years

C) Drone Glyph Designs

WhaleFall Scout + Terraform-Flare Drone iconography + caesar-sealed rituals

D) Add to:

🌐 Capone Codex

📘 Terraforming PDF Vault

🖼 DALL·E Render Set (Visual Concepts)

Just say “Render A” (or B, C, etc.) and I’ll start the next batch based on your preference. Let’s bring this ecosystem of myth, nature, and tech fully to life.

[live-again2morrow]

A PRELUDE

It was a Friday night that had no other business or anything special. No parties. No mixers. Just the two of them walking across Stanford’s near-deserted quad under the orange cast of sodium lights, her arms folded loosely, his hands shoved deep in hoodie pockets, pretending not to be electric with awareness.

“Just so you know,” Zayden said, side-eying her with a smirk, “I’m not responsible for any trauma caused by the absolute horror show that is my room.”

Sage didn’t laugh. Not really. Just arched one elegant eyebrow and murmured, “Do you warn all your late-night study partners like that?”

“You’re not a study partner,” he said, before he could stop himself. Then tried to pivot: “You’re a... neuropsychological enigma wrapped in designer denim.”

That got a small smile. Her lips parted, teeth flashing faintly in the light as she gave him a single, deliberate look. “You're trying too hard.”

He bumped her shoulder with his. “That’s my brand.”

His dorm was in Wilbur Hall—boxy, gray, perpetually under fluorescent siege. The hallway smelled like old carpet and Red Bull. He unlocked the door with a quick swipe, then held it open with a flourish.

“Behold,” he said, gesturing dramatically. “Casa de Chaos.”

She stepped in without hesitation.

The room was predictably small: two twin beds, one desk strewn with printouts, a corkboard layered with sticky notes and sketches, a stack of monitors crowding one corner like a shrine to insomnia. The sheets were gray, barely tucked in. A hoodie was balled up at the foot of his bed. But it didn’t smell like sweat. It smelled like cinnamon gum and his cologne.

He followed her gaze. “Roommate’s gone for the weekend. Visiting his girlfriend in Santa Cruz.” He gestured toward the empty bed. “Which means I have the clean one. Relatively.”

Sage sat on the edge of it without ceremony, crossing one leg over the other, black jeans sliding smooth. Her top was cropped, sleeveless, and when she leaned slightly forward to inspect the open laptop on his desk, the hem rose just enough to tease the dip of her back.

Zayden’s throat worked. “Okay,” he said, moving fast to keep himself from thinking, “so here’s the latest version of the modeling script. You wanted to see the error mapping, right?”

She nodded. “Let’s run it.”

They were side by side within a minute, his laptop balanced on the bed between them. The hours stretched, the code scrolled, and somewhere between neural net visualizations and laughing over his variable names ("you named a node 'bigchungus'?” “It’s an adaptive weighting node, Sage, show some respect"), the distance between them thinned. There was the occasional brush of her knee against his. Her breath when she leaned in to point something out. The soft heat of her arm against his as their concentration deepened.

And then—eventually—he leaned back, eyes flicking to her lips. "You hungry?"

She looked up slowly. Met his gaze. “That depends.”

"On?"

“What’s on the menu?”

His heart thumped once—hard. But he kept the tone easy. “I got ramen. Gummy bears. Potato chips. The tragic leftovers of a twenty-dollar meal plan.”

Her mouth curved. “Not what I meant.”

And that—Christ. That did it.

He leaned in slowly, every inch of him hyper-aware. Her breath didn’t quicken. Her pupils didn’t flare. She looked like she was waiting for a test result she already knew.

When he kissed her, it was soft. Intent. The brush of lips, the gentle open. She tasted like cinnamon and cool defiance, and when she kissed him back it was with a confidence that undid something in his chest. Her hand slid up his hoodie, fingers curling into the fabric at his shoulder, and that single point of contact sent his composure skidding.

Zayden pulled her closer, tilting her back on the mattress. Her hands were in his hair now, her legs parting slightly, a smooth motion that invited him down without hesitation. His fingers found the hem of her shirt, paused.

She pulled it up herself. Off. Tossed it to the floor. No drama. No games.

The tattoo revealed itself like a secret beneath black lace underwear—a simple abstract design, no larger than a palm, curling just above her right hip. It drew him like a magnet.

He kissed it.

Not fast. Reverent. Like it meant something.

Her breath hitched then, the first real sound from her. A soft, high inhale that melted into a low exhale when his mouth moved up her ribs. He stripped off his hoodie, then his shirt, baring ink and scars and too much muscle for a boy who supposedly had no time for gym hours.

He paused.

“You okay?” he asked.

She nodded once, firm. “You?”

He didn’t answer right away. Just touched her cheek. “You’re my first... person I’ve ever wanted to slow down for.”

That quieted her. For a moment.

But then she pulled him down and kissed him like she didn’t want slow—she wanted him, now, present, all in.

Their clothes came off in stages. Smooth. Methodical. She lay back on the bed, head tilted slightly, watching him as if dissecting his every move. He knelt between her thighs, fingers trailing up her stomach to her breasts, thumbs circling just enough to make her back arch.

He pushed into her slowly. Carefully. Watching her face.

Her eyes closed. Her jaw tightened, but not in pain. Just—adjustment. Breathing. And then her hips rolled forward, accepting him, easing him in until he was fully sheathed in her warmth.

“Fuck,” he whispered, the word breaking on his breath.

She kissed his jaw. “Move.”

He did.

Slow at first, grounding himself in every motion, every gasp that escaped her throat. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, nails grazing his skin, and her legs hitched up, heels pressing into the bed for leverage. They found a rhythm that didn’t rush. It built. Swelled. Their breath syncing, skin sliding, a single bead of sweat rolling down the center of his chest to hers.

When she came, it was quiet but undeniable. Her whole body tensed beneath him, thighs tightening around his waist, her mouth open against his neck. And even then—she didn’t look surprised. Just—there. Present. In control.

He followed soon after, mouth against her shoulder, whispering her name like a confession.

Afterward, they lay tangled. No awkwardness. Just soft silence and skin. His fingers traced the edge of her tattoo again, over and over, like memorizing it might help him understand her.

She curled into him without asking, her head tucked against his chest, hair fanning out like ink in water. They stayed that way a long time.

Eventually he sat up, kissed her forehead, and murmured, “Don’t move. Gonna get snacks.”

She only hummed.

He slipped on sweats and sneakers, grabbed his wallet, and headed to the vending machines down the hall. Bought two ramen cups, a bag of potato chips, and the last pouch of gummy bears. He jogged back, triumphant.

The room was quiet.

The sheets were still warm. But she was gone.

On the desk, beside the laptop that still glowed with their work, sat a mug of coffee. His brand. Brewed somehow. Probably his roommate’s French press.

Next to it—a note.

Thanks for the code. And the connection.

—S

No number. No signature. Just that. Crisp handwriting, a looped "S" at the end like a flourish.

He stood there, bare chest cooling fast, heart thudding louder than before.

She hadn’t ghosted.

She’d concluded.

And the worst part? He wasn’t sure he could blame her.

[agilemicrosys]

Flare Monitoring System | Agile Microsys Pvt Ltd

Ensure compliance and operational safety with Agile Microsys' Flare Monitoring System. Our advanced solution provides continuous real-time monitoring of flare stack emissions, offering precise data on combustion efficiency and environmental impact. Designed to meet regulatory requirements, our system helps in optimizing flare operations, reducing emissions, and minimizing risks. Discover how our cutting-edge technology enables proactive management for enhanced safety and performance in industrial flare systems.

[equinoxdrones]

Enhancing Safety in Offshore Oil and Gas Operations with Drones

The offshore oil and gas industry faces numerous challenges, from harsh environmental conditions to the inherent risks associated with operations. Ensuring the safety and efficiency of these operations is paramount. Enter the world of drones – a revolutionary technology transforming various sectors, including the oil and gas industry. Drones offer incomparable advantages in terms of safety, cost-efficiency, and operational effectiveness. This blog explores how Equinox Drone Company is enhancing safety in offshore oil and gas operations through innovative drone solutions.

The Role of Drones in the Oil and Gas Industry

Drones have emerged as a game-changer in the oil and gas industry. Their ability to access hard-to-reach areas, gather high-resolution data, and operate in hazardous environments makes them superior. The use of drones in oil and gas industry operations includes tasks such as inspection, monitoring, and surveying, which traditionally involve significant risks and costs.

Advantages of Drones for the Oil and Gas Industry

Enhanced Safety: One of the primary benefits of using drones for oil and gas industry operations is the significant reduction in human exposure to dangerous environments. Drones can perform inspections in high-risk areas, such as offshore platforms, flare stacks, and pipelines, without putting personnel at risk.

Cost Efficiency: Traditional inspection methods often require shutting down operations, resulting in costly downtime. Drones, however, can conduct inspections without halting production, thereby saving both time and money. Additionally, the comprehensive data collected by drones can help in the early detection of issues, preventing costly repairs and potential accidents.

Operational Efficiency: Drones provide real-time data, enabling quicker decision-making and more efficient management of operations. They can cover vast areas in a short time, offering a level of detail and accuracy that is hard to achieve with manual inspections.

Drone Inspection for Oil and Gas: A Closer Look

Drone inspection for oil and gas operations is revolutionizing how companies maintain and manage their assets. These inspections include:

Pipeline Monitoring: Drones equipped with advanced sensors and cameras can detect leaks, corrosion, and other potential issues in pipelines, ensuring timely maintenance and preventing environmental disasters.

Platform Inspections: Offshore platforms are complex structures requiring regular inspections. Drones can easily navigate these structures, capturing detailed images and videos for analysis without the need for scaffolding or rope access.

Flare Stack Inspections: Inspecting flare stacks traditionally involves significant risk and cost. Drones can safely inspect these structures while in operation, providing high-resolution imagery and thermal data to assess their condition.

Equinox Drone Company: Leading the Way in Oil and Gas Drone Services

Equinox Drone Company is at the forefront of providing cutting-edge oil and gas drone services. Our state-of-the-art drones are equipped with the latest technology to perform a wide range of tasks, ensuring the highest standards of safety and efficiency. Our services include:

Visual and Thermal Inspections: Using high-resolution cameras and thermal imaging, our drones can detect anomalies and assess the condition of assets with precision.

3D Mapping and Modeling: We create detailed 3D maps and models of offshore structures, providing valuable insights for planning and maintenance.

Environmental Monitoring: Our drones monitor environmental conditions, such as air and water quality, ensuring compliance with regulatory standards and promoting sustainable practices.

Future Prospects of Drones in the Oil and Gas Industry

The future of drones in the oil and gas industry looks promising, with advancements in technology continually expanding their capabilities. From AI-driven analytics to autonomous drone operations, the potential for enhancing safety, efficiency, and sustainability in offshore operations is immense. Equinox Drone Company is committed to staying at the forefront of these innovations, providing our clients with the best drone solutions for their needs.

Conclusion

Incorporating drones into offshore oil and gas operations offers numerous benefits, from enhancing safety to improving operational efficiency and reducing costs. Equinox Drone Company is dedicated to leveraging the power of drones to transform the oil and gas industry, ensuring safer and more efficient operations. As technology continues to evolve, the role of drones in the oil and gas industry will only grow, opening new possibilities for innovation and excellence.

Contact us today for more information on how Equinox Drone Company can enhance your offshore operations with our cutting-edge drone solutions.