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Thank you so much.

Muchas Gracias!!

Hoping for a reupload of the whole series🙏🙏

Sora could see the frustration building in Fang—the tightness in his jaw, the way his shoulders stiffened as if he were bracing for another blow. Maybe there was anger there too. Sora bit his lip, fighting the instinct to take it personally. Fang didn’t mean it that way. This wasn’t about him. It was about wounds that had never truly healed. The question had struck too close to home. And what could Sora possibly say that wouldn’t sound hollow? He had never lived through what Fang had endured—never had a lover or family ripped away by violence. His parents had left, yes, but they had chosen to walk away. That abandonment carried its own quiet ache, a tangle of unresolved feelings, but it was nothing like the devastation Fang had been dragged through. Sora would never insult him by pretending otherwise. [“What am I supposed to do?”] The shift in Fang’s voice caught him off guard. The anger cracked, revealing something fragile underneath. Fear. Desperation. Sora’s chest tightened painfully. Fang had spent so long afraid to form connections, terrified that loving someone again would only give fate another target. The people who had murdered his family—his mate—were still out there. The threat was not abstract. It was real. “Fang…” Sora said softly, but the words that followed refused to come. [“What if the roles were reversed… and I was killed… what would you do?”] Silence swallowed the space between them. Sora’s first thought was so dark it frightened him. For a split second, he saw it vividly— the world hollowed out. A black void opened inside his chest and swallowed everything whole. His mind spiraled somewhere cold and emty. He shook his head sharply, as if he could physically dislodge the image before it rooted itself. “I’d want whoever did it brought to justice,” he said carefully. “I’m not going to pretend I’m above revenge. I’m not some saint. If it came down to it… I don’t know what I’d be capable of.” He stepped closer, searching Fang’s tense expression. “But let me ask you something. If you were dying… would you want me to die too? Would you want me to throw my life away trying to follow you?” The answer was already written across Fang’s face. “Because if it were me,” Sora continued, voice steady despite the emotion behind it, “I wouldn’t want that for you. I’d want you to keep living. To keep fighting. To not give up on yourself just because I wasn’t there.” He exhaled, then allowed a faint, stubborn smile to tug at his mouth. “But this is all hypothetical. I don’t plan on getting killed. And I’m not losing you either.” His tone sharpened with resolve. “If anyone ever comes for us, I’ll fight with everything I have. I know fifteen ways to knock out a guy—seven if it’s a woman, but it still counts. And don’t forget we got the police. If they hear anyone talking about hunting werewolves, they can be sure they end up questioning their life choices in a psychiatric ward.” The humor was deliberate, but the determination in his eyes was not. “Did that answer your question,” he asked quietly, “or do you need me to prove I’m not all talk?” He straightened slightly, a hint of smug confidence slipping through. “I’ve been on my own since I was fifteen. I had to learn how to defend myself—especially once I hit dating age.” It was true he would never match Fang’s raw strength. But strength wasn’t everything. Sora knew how to move, how to use leverage, how to turn someone’s weight against them and send them crashing to the ground before they realized what happened. He had more than a few tricks tucked away. He’d rarely ever used them on Fang. Mostly because, if he was being honest, he didn’t want to. Sora rather liked it when Fang pinned him with his body or crowded him against a wall. He had no desire to escape those moments. “Want me to knock some sense into you before bed?” Sora asked, a crooked grin spreading across his face. “I could use the practice.” His tone was teasing, deliberately light, an obvious attempt to cut through the heaviness that had settled between them. The darkness of the conversation still lingered in the air, but Sora refused to let it suffocate them. If Fang insisted on spiraling into grim thoughts, then Sora would drag him back out. The playful challenge in his eyes made it clear, he wasn’t entirely joking. _______________________________ Leon didn’t let the silence stretch for long. Only a brief pause. Just enough for him to process the request. Before he leaned back slightly against the couch, studying Asta with a thoughtful expression. ((Letters.)) It wasn’t what he had expected. And if he was honest, it made him nervous almost instantly. Writing things down had never been his strength. Speaking? That he could do. When someone stood in front of him, he could read them. He could see the exact second a word landed wrong or right. He could adjust his tone, reach out, soften the impact. Conversation was alive. Flexible. A letter wasn’t. Ink didn’t let you correct yourself in real time. It didn’t show you the other person’s expression as they read something vulnerable. It just… sat there. Permanent. Still, Leon didn’t let that discomfort turn into hesitation. “If this is easier for you,” he said after that short beat, voice steady, “then I’m okay with it.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. His hands clasped loosely together, thumbs brushing once in a subtle tell of nerves. “I’ll be honest though,” he added, meeting Asta’s eyes. “Writing makes me a bit nervous. I’m used to saying things to you when I can see you. I like knowing how my words affect you right away. If I say something wrong, I can fix it. With a letter… I can’t do that.” A faint, almost self-aware smile touched his lips. “But I don’t want you feeling like you can’t tell me things. If writing helps you say what’s on your mind, then I want to read it.” There was no wavering in that part. “And I’ll write one too,” he continued, more resolute now. “Even if I have to stare at a blank page for an hour.” His gaze softened. “Buy I’m okay with it.” He watched the nervous energy still flickering through Asta’s posture, and instead of giving him space, he reached for him. Gently. He caught Asta by the waist and pulled him back into the couch with him in one smooth motion. The cushions dipped as Asta’s back met his chest. Leon adjusted instinctively, one arm sliding securely around his middle, the other resting over his forearm. Warmth enveloped them immediately. Leon settled in, his chin coming to rest on Asta’s shoulder. From here, he didn’t need to see his face. He could feel everything—the slight tension in his abdomen, the careful way he held his breath before slowly letting it out. Leon exhaled softly against the side of his neck. “So…” he murmured, voice lower now, relaxed. “This doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to say things out loud, right?” His thumb began tracing slow, absent patterns over Asta’s stomach through the fabric of his shirt. Not distracting—just present. “Like: when you asked to come back here with me. My mind was going all kinds of ways” He let the words linger. "Honestly it caught me off guard,” he admitted quietly. “In a good way.” His nose brushed lightly along the curve of Asta’s neck as he shifted, settling more comfortably behind him. The contact was subtle, but deliberate. “I kept thinking about about how you chose to come here with me. I was nervous, I admit, but also very happy.” His arm tightened slightly around Asta’s waist, pulling him flush against his chest. The heat between them deepened, the steady rhythm of Leon’s breathing syncing slowly with his. “You don’t have to overthink everything,” Leon murmured near his ear. His voice was softer now. Closer. “If you want to come here.. you can just say it.” His fingers slid a fraction higher against Asta’s abdomen, spreading wider, feeling the subtle shift of muscle beneath his touch. “Letters are fine,” Leon said after a moment, his lips hovering dangerously close to the shell of Asta’s ear. “I will write it.” His thumb stilled briefly, pressing just slightly more firmly against him before resuming its slow path. “But that doesn’t mean I'm shutting my mouth off"

@Ryo-Ma sama, thank you so much for sharing these manga!!

KyaaAaaHhhhh thank you so much I have another one to make me sleep like a baby

thanks :3c

Omg i love this so much! Need part 2 if it exist 😭 the animation so hella good, the btm is so pretty and i love the va immersion in being btm as well moreee<33

Thank you so much!!!

Reupload please 😭

𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝 : RJ01180568

Tysm!!

Thanks a lot!!

thankss😚

thanksss😻

Reupload please

Any chance for re upload?

Re upload please

happy chinese new year of horse