#a part of the pack

[callsign-mimic]

Chapter five had such a sweet, wholesome ending, didn't it? Let's add some filth :3

CW: NSFW, MDNI, Omegaverse, Alpha Rut, Omega Heat, Blood and Violence, Knotting, Poorly Written Smut

Chapter Six/Final Chapter

Saint paced restlessly in their room, trying to figure out what to do. The rest of the 141 had shipped out on a mission two weeks ago. Leaving Saint behind to watch over Mimic as she continued to heal from her injury.

The boys were supposed to be back in time for Saint's rut. But the mission had gone sideways. Gotten complicated. The target managing to slip away at the last moment. And now the four Omegas were stuck on an entirely different continent.

Leaving Saint with only Mimic, the newest member of the pack. Who was still recovering from a punctured lung.

Saint had assumed that their first rut with Mimic in the pack would involve the whole pack. As their ruts always have in the past. Meticulously planned to make sure that every Omega was available to help work their Alpha through their rut. But with the complications on the team's mission, and now return date in the near future...

Would Mimic be able to handle it?

She had been spending most of her days dozing, often on the couch with her head resting on Saint's thigh. Their fingers gently threading through her hair as she purrs quietly. Not that she wasn't diligent about her physical therapy and keeping up with her workouts. But she seemed quite content to rest near her Alpha, purring almost constantly.

A knock on the door pulls Saint from their thoughts. They almost answer without thinking before realizing they had burned through their neutralizer. A soft voice comes through the door, making the Alpha pause as they reach for the bottle of neutralizer on the bedside table.

"Alpha? Everything alright?" Mimic asks, concern evident in her tone. It wasn't like Saint to leave her alone for too long. Not while she was still recovering from a knife to her lung. A knife that now hung in a shadow box mounted on the wall above her bed. Much to Price's annoyance.

She sniffs at the air, catching a faint scent that smells amazing. A scent that becomes much more potent when Saint opens their door and looks down at her with that familiar, warm gaze. She realizes it's the scent of her Alpha, leaning in slightly to catch another whiff of that mouth-watering scent that makes her whole body flush with an almost familiar feeling.

"Be out in a minute." Saint says, gently patting the top of her head. The sound of their voice combined with the physical contact and that scent sends a shiver down Mimic's spine. As the door to Saint's room closes again, she's left feeling confused and oddly warm.

Saint notices the change in Mimic's demeanor over the next couple of days. She becomes clingier, keeping as close to Saint's side as she can. Her usual patience morphs into irritability with others.

And her scent is considerably more noticeable.

Odd. Could she be...? Saint starts to think, only to immediately brush off the thought. Mimic hadn't had a heat cycle in three years due to the physical trauma that had resulted from her fight with Monroe. She couldn't possibly be in pre-heat now.

Could she...?

The moment of clarity comes when the two of them are on the training grounds, watching over the newest batch of recruits. Mimic had stopped wearing her collar once she had been fully integrated into the pack. After all, it's not like she was ashamed of her scars. And her scent was barely noticeable unless someone already knew it.

Or, that's how it had been up til this point.

A young Alpha sidles up to Mimic, sniffing at the air around her. She looks at him with one eyebrow raised as he leans in slightly, a wolfish grin on his face.

"Hey there, pretty thing." The young man croons, getting a little too close. "What's a gorgeous little Omega like you doing out here with us so close to your heat? Shouldn't you be nesting? Preparing for your Alpha to take care of you? Or do you not have an Aplha to sate a pretty thing such as yourself?"

He inhales deeply, pointedly, his eyes sparkling with barely contained lust as his voice drops slightly. "Cause if you're in need of an Alpha, then I am more than willing to help."

Normally, Mimic would just break the guy's nose and pin him to the ground with her boot on his throat til he apologized. Being an Omega didn't mean being weak or soft. A point she had made many times since her initial arrival. But she was thrown off by the young Alpha's words.

Heat? Sure, she had been feeling a bit weird lately, in a vaguely familiar way. Definitely warmer than usual. And she had been nesting, hadn't she? Her bed covered in clothes she had pilfered from the rest of the pack while they were away.

Well shit...

The young Alpha gets closer, reaching out to brush his fingers against her cheek as she stares at him in astonishment.

"I have an Alpha." She says curtly, catching his wrist and giving it a warning squeeze.

"Oh?" He asks with a smirk, clearly not believing her. "Do they know you're out here and unattended?" He tries to pull her closer, laughing when she bares her teeth. She considers showing the overconfident idiot his place. It would be so easy to twist his wrist just the right way until she heard that satisfying crack of bones breaking. But she thinks better of it.

The recruit was clearly too confident for his own good, and would likely try to fight back, broken wrist be damned. And Mimic had just had her stitches removed two days prior. If she tore open the fresh scars in a fight with a stupid recruit, Doc would ream her a new asshole. And that old man was the type of person who didn't view punishing idiocy as a violation of his hippocratic oath.

Mimic pulls away from the young Alpha with an annoyed huff, walking wordlessly over to where Saint had been keeping a silent watch over the situation. She rubs her face against her Alpha's chest with a grumble, then climbs their body. Perching on their shoulders and staring at the young recruit with disdain.

The action makes Saint's heart skip a beat. A clear sign that she fully trusted the Alpha that she had once been so skittish around.

A sign of trust that she was showing to her pre-rut Alpha.

Something she had a damn good reason to want to avoid.

Saint turns their gaze to the new recruit, their grey eyes locking on the young man as their lips curl back in a snarls. Visible through the bars on their muzzle. Their low growl of displeasure reverberates through the young Alpha's chest, and sends him running back to join the rest of the recruits.

The ambient noise of the training grounds is drowned out by the sudden sound of Mimic's purring. She melts into Saint's touch as they gently remove her from their shoulders.

"Alpha..." She murmurs, tucking herself close against Saint's side. They wrap their arm around her tightly, her purr vibrating through their very core as they lead her back to the den.

"Settle." Saint rumbles in response, steering her toward their quarters. They pause outside the door and look down at her. She looks back up at them, pupils blown wide and lips slightly parted. Ready. Eager.

Willing.

After a moment of thought, Saint opens the door to their room. As they follow Mimic inside, they reach up and unfasten their muzzle, taking it off and setting it on the dresser. They wanted to taste her. Had to taste her. And they couldn't do that with the muzzle on.

They reach for the case holding their bite guards, when the of Mimic keening softly snaps their attention over to the small Omega. She was standing by the bed, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Chewing on her plump lower lip and twisting and tugging at the hem of her shirt. Her pale cheeks tinted a soft shade of pink, eyes averted.

So clearly needy. So obviously desperate for the attentions of her Alpha. And still so hesitant to actually ask.

Saint was on her in a heartbeat, practically tearing her clothes off as their mouth found hers. They pull at their own clothes, discarding them as quickly as possible. Needing as much skin contact with the needy Omega as they could manage. Trailing their kisses down her jaw, Saint buries their nose in the crook of her neck. Nuzzling against the scarred flesh.

Her scent was overwhelming. Almost intoxicating in its intensity. Her mangled scent glands working in overdrive from the sheer intensity of her long overdue heat. Saint nips at her neck, bit guard forgotten on the dresser, and relishes in the sound of her soft moan.

Her body is so soft and supple under the Alpha's lips and hands as they trail kisses down her body. Pliant and willing as Saint settles between her plush thighs. Fuck, but they could drown in the scent of her arousal if she'd let them. They nip and lick at her inner thighs, leaving blooming marks on the pale skin until she's whimpering and squirming.

"Alpha... Please..." Mimic mewls, already breathless and panting from their teasing touches alone. She doesn't need to be anymore than that. The two words being enough to make Saint bury their face against her glistening cunt. Lapping at the sensitive flesh with their tongue and groaning at the taste of her.

It was enough to make their last thread of control snap completely.

The sound of Mimic's moans, gasps, and keening whimpers spur Saint on as they eat her out like she was their favorite meal after days of starving. Their claws dig into the flesh of her hips, drawing pinpricks of blood.

The coppery scent makes Saint pull away from her sweet, needy pussy to bite at her inner thigh. Licking at the blood that slowly welled up in the wound. The taste of her blood combined with the taste of her sweet cream was enough to make the Alpha's head swim.

Saint kept alternating between eating her out and biting at her thighs until she finally reached the peak of her first orgasm. Her back arches off the bed, fingers twisted in the sheets as the pleasure crashes over her with all the force of a tsunami. Saint's name spills from her lips in a sharp cry, sounding like a sinful prayer. The Alpha pulls back, replacing their tongue with two fingers, working her through her release.

They lean over her, licking their lips as they watch her face while she comes down from her high. Pale blue eyes glazed. Porcelain skin flushed a pretty pink. Plush lips slightly parted.

A stunning vision beneath them. Just like the rest of their Omegas when sated. Saint kisses her deeply, letting her taste herself on their tongue as they remove their fingers from her slick folds. Mimic whines at the loss, soft and needy. Watching Saint as they slot herself between her thighs, their own arousal pressing against her entrance.

The Alpha struggles to control themself as they slowly sink into her eager heat. Letting her body accommodate to their size before they start to move. They watch her face for any signs of distress, attentive even as their rut starts to completely take hold. Finding none, they finally let themselves go, giving in to the overwhelming desire of their rut.

The obscene sound of skin slapping skin fills the room. Punctuated with grunts, moans, growls, and whimpers. Saint isn't gentle, their control having given away to animalistic need. And Mimic, so sweet in her submission, so lost in the throes of her heat, relishes in her Alpha's aggression. Her claws rake down Saint's back, leaving thin lines of blood in their wake as she's brought to another earth shattering orgasm. The sensation making the Alpha growl and bury their face in the crook of her neck.

Her scent, which had once been so faint that they almost couldn't detect it over the rest of the pack, was now potent enough to overwhelm their senses. They could feel their knot start to swell. The idea of locking into her, of breeding her, makes their mouth water as they lick a stripe up the side of her neck.

Saint's orgasm finally hits with Mimic's third, the force of it clouding their vision as their knot locks them together. They bite down on her neck. Teeth piercing through the scarred skin with little resistance.

A proper mark.

A blatant claim.

"Mine." Saint growls, staring at Mimic with an intensity that bordered on obsessive. She stares back up at them, her eyes glassy and unfocused. But she doesn't object to the Alpha's claim. Doesn't balk or try to fight it. Instead melting into their touch as they lap at the bite to soothe it.

The taste of her blood is pure ambrosia. Hell, just the taste of her in general. She was just as addicting as the rest of their Omegas. A perfect fit for the Alpha.

Saint keeps rocking their hips gently. The time waiting for their knot to deflate filled with kisses, groping, and murmured praise. And the only rest either of them would be getting through the combined cycles of their rut and heat.

~*~

Four days later, the rest of Task Force 141 returns from their delayed mission. Exhausted and ready to rest, the four of them pause once they step foot in the den. The whole place reeks of Saint's scent.

And Mimic's.

And blood.

"Alpha's rut..." Gaz says quietly, dark eyes widening. "We missed it..."

Price is already moving. Following the scents as they get stronger until he's standing outside Saint's room. He listens intently, the silence from within making anxiety claw at his chest. Even an Alpha with as much control and patience as Saint risked losing all control during rut.

What if they had hurt Mimic? The smell of blood was unmistakable here.

Price steels himself as he slowly opens the door and peers inside. The sight that greets him is Saint asleep in their bed. With Mimic dozing peacefully on their chest. There's a blanket haphazardly thrown over the both of them. But enough of Mimic's skin is exposed for Price to see the scratches and bruises all over her body.

And the claiming bite on her neck.

"Alpha." Price calls, his tone low. Cautious. Ghost appears in the doorway as the Captain makes his way into the room. Saint stirs, grey eyes opening slowly at the sound of their Omega's voice. A low rumble comes from their chest, rousing Mimic.

She sits up slowly, looking around and spotting her pack members. She flashes Ghost and Price a sleepy smile as they walk closer to the bed. Leaning into Price's touch as his fingers brush the skin just under the bite that was still slowly oozing blood.

"Alright, luv?" He asks, still quiet. He chuffs when Mimic nods, looking over at Saint as they exhausted Alpha starts to sit up. "We should get you two cleaned up and get some food in you. I'm assuming neither of you has eaten in days."

Saint runs a hand through their hair, the dark locks still messy and damp with sweat. They grumble quietly as Price gently picks Mimic up and looks her over. He's surprised to see a second claiming bite on the other side of her neck. This one already scabbed over and starting to heal. Meaning the bite that was still weeping was newer. Likely having happened that morning.

He also finds several, more shallow bites along the insides of her thighs. On top of the scratches and bruises littering her pale skin. Mimic lets out a contented sigh. Nuzzling against Price's neck and purring softly as she starts to doze again.

"No worse for the wear, I see." He says with a chuckle. "Ghost, help our Alpha get cleaned up. I'll get our sweet Mim patched up. Then we'll see if we can keep them both awake long enough to eat."

Ghost nods, turning to Saint as they swing their legs out of the bed. Their eyes trail over to Mimic as she purrs in Price's arms. A faint smirk grazing their face. The bites on her neck would heal into visible scars, despite the gnarled tissue they had bitten through. Anyone who saw them would know she was claimed.

Would know she was theirs.

A part of their pack

@readingforaneternity Here you go, babs. Mimic climbing Saint. A nice parallel to the first chapter, no?

[hinamie]

morning glory

[exilley]

I do sort of wish western anime fans would analyze anime and manga from a framework of japanese historical and cultural context. Specifically a lot of works from the 90s being influenced by the general aimlessness and ennui that a lot of people were experiencing due to the burst in the bubble economy and the national trauma caused by the sarin terrorist attack. I think in interacting with media that’s not local to our sociocultural/sociopolitical sphere it’s easy to forget that it’s influenced and shaped by the same kinds of factors that influence media within our own cultural dome and there ends up being this baseline misalignment of perception between the causative elements of a narrative and viewer interpretation of those elements. It’s a form of death of the author that i think, in some measure, hinders our ability to fully understand/come to terms with creator intent and the full scope of a work’s merits

[heybrine]

Vanlife Ways Pack Part 2

Heeeeeey! Finaaaaaally part 2 of vanlife is here! An interior pack for your sims motorhomes, including 31 new items! I tried to make a full functional home with this set, so there are RV based bathroom items, kitchen items, and bedding! I was kind overwelmed when I started this part 2, I could have taken so many different options and layouts for motorhomes. I ended up using these as inpirations: inspo 1, inspo 2, inspo 3, inspo 4.

I also tried to make this as modular as possible, so the pieces snatch when possible BUT I do recommend using moveobjects to be sure you can always place things correctly!

Huuuuge shoutout to Ravasheen that made fridges and stoves possible to snatch to counters!I All credits for this goes to her, and her original files are required.

OMG guys, this was a looong way, so sorry for being so late this month!

Anyway I hope you like it, I made it with much love 💛

You can see more info on my patreon here!

If you wish, you can get early acess here!  --- available for everyone 10/20/2024

You can also check part 1 here for "the car" items! Already free for everyone 😊

[b1asho]

While it's on the mind, here's my wings of fire designs too. Not as much of a brainrot but still fun. Bad take or am I cooking with some of them? Let me know in the comments. Here's some (too many) notes:

I really liked the original designs when I first read these books, but I wanted to try my hand at uhh changing them a little. Mainly making them more distinct from each other (even if this irreversibly breaks canon XD)

-Sandwings live in a mixed savannah and desert habitat and have bodies adapted for resource scarcity, effective hunting, and heat dispersion. They have large ears to help cool off and listen for stuff. They can fly, but pretty weakly in comparison to some others, mainly using flight to navigate their large territories , get onto cliffs, and scan for prey. They typically climb up somewhere and then jump off. They are built like felines, and use a solo stalk and rushdown hunting approach coupled with a sting instakill. They live in family groups, with a ‘queen’ title going to the alpha female 💪 and everyone else hunting and living together. They are immune to their own venom, which acts very similarly to a scorpion’s but in a massive dose, causing numbness, breathing difficulties seizures, and eventually death. It takes time for them to make more once they’ve expended the dose, so they rarely use it outside of hunting or life/death situations (though the prospect of being stung is very scary to everyone else, and they will instinctively raise their tail when startled or threatened)

-Skywings live in high mountainous and forested areas, with some living in the lowlands. They are powerful flyers and very acrobatic due to their tail, though this comes at the expense of their agility on land and the strength of their non wing arms. They have long legs with powerful talons for grasping prey midair or snatching them from off the ground. They hunt and live alone unless they have a partner. Communities are made up of a loose group of related individuals who rarely collect in one place at once(queendom structure are a more recent and ‘unnatural’ thing for them, but very useful for organizing military efforts and empire building). They stay aloft for long periods of time and usually only land on their cliff homes. They need a sprint or a takeoff point to get flying, though. Unlike every other tribe, they have a noticeable difference between male and female (being a nose horn and red face for males.) males are prized for these features, and having a pretty husband is seen as an attractive trait for a queen.

-Seawings live along the coast. They normally only venture out of the water for trade and other resources, since they can get everything else they need underwater. Their large neck houses gills protected by thick pads that will close when on land, while their lungs are in their mid chest. Primarily adapted to swimming, they have very strong tails and webbed fingers and toes. They will also use their wings to steer and paddle, as well as manipulate things their other arms can’t reach. They will hunt in packs, corralling fish and other animals into a kill zone. They are very clumsy on land and in the air with their short limbs and weak wings. Their bioluminescent spots can be flashed for communication, and compared to the other tribes they have pretty poor vocal ability (due to the gills in their neck getting in the way) and will supplement with other spot/sign signals. Every individual has unique spots, though their glowing ones come in consistent numbers, sizes, patterns, and places on their body so they can use them for common language across their group. However, Different groups from different parts of the ocean have different numbers of spots in different areas, making cross communication via only spots difficult. Their whiskers help navigate in close or dark areas, and are seen as a status symbol.

-Mudwings live in warmer areas, specifically marshes and other wetlands (though sometimes in some forested areas too). Their thick armor helps protect them from other mudwings/competition, while also acting as an insulator that allows them to easily venture a wider range than other tribes from warm climates. Physically, they are the strongest and bulkiest. They typically use the element of surprise and their overwhelming size and strength to take down large prey. However, unlike other tribes they tend to eat more plants too due to their large size (all of them are technically omnivores, but meat makes up the dominant part of their diet because of their energy needs and their ancestors). They are also the poorest flyers out of the bunch, having sacrificed that for size and strength, though they can do short bursts similar to a chicken to get to hard to reach areas or to surprise attack prey faster than them, they’re similar to hippos and are adapted to living in the water too, using powerful webbed arms to propel themselves and dig through the mud, and their large lung capacity to stay submerged and hidden for long periods. Their nostrils, ears, and eyes are located near the top of their head, which also gives more room for Tusks. They use these to root around occasionally defend themselves. Tusk maintenance and appearance is very important to them. They live in large groups of families in the same area and have more communal social standards than other tribes.

-Rainwings live in tropical areas and have a very small habitat range. This has caused them to look and act very different than most tribes, leading to poor perception of them. They use their long claws, strong grasping fingers, and prehensile tail to climb around, and are pretty much arboreal. They have wings meant for quick takeoffs and flight in dense areas, and are pretty agile and swift. They and aren’t that great at sustained flight or dealing with high altitudes and winds though . Their frill is delicate and used for emoting (probably originally for mating purposes) Their skin is packed with chromatophores that they can use to match their surroundings, and they have loose ridges in their skin that they can raise to enhance the effect. Their skin is constantly changing color due to their brain activity, though they have set patterns/colors for emotions and communication. They can also choose to focus on organizing their skin patterns to get coordinated colors and patterns, since normally it’s pretty disorganized. They eat a lot more plants due to their environment and due to social standards, but arent herbivores. They have the ability to spit acid out of hollow retractable fangs, and use precise shots of this coupled with their camouflage ability to get prey. They can also spray it at higher velocities for defense and offense, though this expends their supply much quicker. They don’t recognize a queen in their communities and are fairly disorganized into different cooperative groups.

-Nightwings are the result of a group that split off onto an island, though the volcanic activity on their original island escalated to the point where they had to emigrate. They are great fliers, using their wings and tail extensions to travel great distances to track prey and ambush from above. When on land, they aren’t particularly fast or strong, and instead are built for persistence. Their hunting tactic involves getting an initial bite onto prey, then waiting for it to succumb to infection. Their spines, horns, muscles, and talons are mainly for defending their kill from other Nightwings rather than hunting it in the first place. As a result of this competition, they aren’t naturally very social like other tribes, They are mainly nocturnal.

-Icewings live in the colder tundras and snowy forest environments. They are pack hunters, using their speed and persistence to take down prey, similar to wolves. Their long overlapping scales help them trap heat and survive in the cold, and while the guy i drew here is pretty skinny they also store fat much more readily than other tribes. Their bowed wings are mainly used to swoop in in prey, and like falcons they often take steep dives to grapple it. Their antlers only grow in at a certain time in the year, but royalty will wear embellished artificial ones in the meantime.

[bluegiragi]

work it out (part 2)

early access + nsfw on patreon

[p0ssym1lker]

Red Robin: Hi I'm-

Danny: I saw your spleen in the ghost zone

[molinaesque]

"Ugh, I'm gonna miss that butt." - The Unicorn (2019)

[sakasakiii]

morning routines ft. the firstborn sons and their parents (who turned out WAY more lovey dovey than i intended omg)... i was inspired by this cute art from @/Worvies on twitter and decided to use it as a chance to draw how locked in i think they'd be when it comes to getting ready in the morning HAHAHA

in terms of who wakes up earliest to latest i think it'd go: fingolfin -> finrod -> nerdanel -> earwen -> feanor -> maedhros -> anaire -> fingon -> finarfin !!! i also never thought abt it before but. elves with makeup!!! i wonder what the various trends in valinor would be and how long theyd last....

[jade-bright]

Stiles and Peter at any given moment...

Talia: *sigh* then it's decided, Stiles will be joining us in meeting Satomi and if anyone unwanted shows up-

Stiles: Then we sick the attack dog on 'em

Derek: *facepalms*

Peter: *deadpan stare*

-

Laura: I'm going out for a run!

Talia: Sorry, not tonight dear, it's still raining and I don't think either of us are interested in cleaning up the mess that'll be your fur

Peter: Not to worry, I'm sure our resident little spark will be able to make the rain stop, won't you sweetheart

Stiles: *sitting in Derek's lap, the reason it's raining and can't figure out how to stop it, glaring at Peter*

-

But also...

Some anti-human in packs Alpha: And if you're sure that your, "honorary" human can create a strong enough ward then-

Peter: That's "Emissary" for you Alpha ___, and it'd be in your best interest to respect his title if you wish to continue our alliance *smiles cruelly*

Stiles: *standing to the left of Peter, face completely neutral but losing it internally at the alpha and his pack's expressions*

-

Talia: I'll be going myself and that's final, the alphas are seeking my guidance not a fight

Stiles: At least bring Peter, he's your Left hand, was raised knowing the same stuff as you, it would still establish strength, and it'd be less egotistical than you going by yourself

Peter: *lounging on a chair seeming uninterested, but warmed that Stiles sees him on an equal, if not similar, pedestal as his sister*

[callsign-mimic]

A Part of the Pack

Chapter 5

Content Warnings: Mentions of violence, reality adjacent Mimic, cavity inducing fluff

Price and Gaz had to practically drag Saint out of the med bay once Mimic had been admitted. Despite her having been completely lucid and seemingly unbothered. It was only because Mimic herself had firmly requested that Saint adhere to protocol that they allowed themself to be led back to the den.

Alphas weren’t supposed to be anywhere near an injured Omega. And that normally wouldn’t have been an issue for Saint. If they hadn’t watched Mimic get stabbed right before their eyes. The fact that Saint still reeked of blood that wasn’t there, in spite of the copious amounts of neutralizer that they’d been doused in, hadn’t really helped put the medics at ease with their initial refusal to leave.

It helped that Ghost had promised to stay by her side. Hell, it even helped that Nikolai had offered to stick around until she was cleared to leave medical. Two huge Omegas that bordered on Alphas watching over the scrappy little operative was enough for Saint to begrudgingly leave.

“She’ll be fine.” Gaz promises. “She was still making jokes the whole time. One little knife won’t be enough to take out our Mim.”

“And it’s going to be a running joke for the little menace for the rest of our lives.” Price grumbles, running a hand through his hair.

“Ye know she’s gonna want ta keep th’ knife.” Soap says, a shiteating grin splitting his face.

Saint huffs, comforted by the men’s words, but far from satisfied with the situation. The faint, coppery tang of the enemy soldier’s blood was still on the back of their tongue. It had been incredibly satisfying to see the ruined remains of the man on the ground before they had rushed Mimic to exfil.

A lot of the residual stress washed down the drain with the blood, sweat, and grime of the mission as Saint showered. When they returned to the den, their Omegas had made a nest. A comfortable pile of blankets, pillows, clothes… Anything they could find with even the barest hint of Mimic’s scent on it. All to comfort their incredibly stressed Alpha.

Saint’s neutralizers didn’t stand a chance against the stress they felt as they waited for word of Mimic’s condition. It got to the point where they couldn’t really leave the den for long periods of time. For fear of overwhelming the rest of the base.

Mimic, to her credit, is a good sport about the whole ordeal. Requesting only the bare minimum for painkillers, not wanting to be too doped up to appreciate her watchful company.

Nikolai stays right by her side as promised. Though the medics don’t appreciate how he keeps making her laugh as he regales her with tales of his escapades during her three year absence.

“She’s recovering from a punctured lung.” One very annoyed medic snaps, glaring at Nikolai. “You’re going to exacerbate her injuries if you keep making her laugh like that.”

“Nonsense!” The burly Russian says with a laugh. “She is made of sterner stuff than you think. She will let me know when I am too much.” The medic rolls her eyes, huffing in annoyance before they finish checking Mimic’s vitals and flit out of the room.

Ghost acts as a messenger of sorts. Moving between Mimic’s bedside and the den to keep the rest of the team up to date on her condition. The more good news he brings back, the more Saint starts to relax.

It’s a week before Mimic is finally released from the med bay. She’s given plenty of medical restrictions, including a very pointed remark about not laughing too hard. Not that the team intended on letting her do much of anything, anyway.

Including heading back to her isolated cabin.

“Doc said you’re not in any state to be travelling overseas.” Price says, his tone just stern enough to discourage argument. He crosses his arms as he stares down at Mimic. Who was trapped on the couch in Soap’s arms with Gaz resting his head in her lap.

“Why do you want to leave so soon, anyway?” Gaz asks, massaging Mimic’s hand as it rests on his chest. “Don’t you like being here? With us?”

“I do. Genuinely.” Mimic replies. She feels Soap nuzzle against her neck, making her shift slightly. “I’m just not comfortable being around everyone else on base. It’s… It’s kind of overwhelming after three years alone.”

“Ah, солнышко, but you are not meant for isolation.” Nikolai says, wrapping an arm around Price’s waist and pulling him close.

“Ye need a pack, m’eudail.” Soap murmurs against her neck. Saint perks up at his words, catching the attention of Price, Ghost, and Nikolai.

“That’s implying that there’s a pack that wants me…” Mimic grumbles in response, then yelping when both Gaz and Soap deliver a sharp nip to her pale skin.

“You have a pack that wants you, luv.” Ghost growls, the low rumble betraying his irritation and causing Mimic to give him a sheepish look.

Saint moves over to the couch, gently disentangling Mimic from Soap and Gaz. They hold her tightly to their chest, muzzle buried in her hair. Saint inhales deeply before grumbling out a single word. Enough to make Mimic’s heart melt.

“Stay.”

[laugtherhyena]

Yes yes, will Pochita eat the old age devil or not, that question is also driving me insane, but what stood out to me the most in this chapter was Asa's wake up call in regards to Yoru because it highlights how much i love the way devils are characterized in chainsaw man.

It's not anywhere near as simple as "Some devils are evil, but some can be nice." But is instead "Some devils are evil, some can be nice, but even then they're still inherently sadistic and amoral."

Because they're not human.

Even if a devil has been nice and treated you well, they're still, in fact, a devil. And that's not something you should ever forget.

[qephyr]

For the epic bird who managed to revive a fandom @randomalistic (<- SUCH A PASSIONATE AND KIND PERSON BTW YOU SHOULD TOTALLY GO WATCH THEIR VIDEO IF YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY! GO GO GO THIS IS AN ORDER!!!)

bonus doodles teehee, got attached to the idea of a little bird and its oxpecker-like relationship with the world's largest parasite :]c

[tiger-grace]

Bruce: why do I have 15 separate charges that amounts to 26,000 dollars on my card

Jason: shits crazy

Bruce: why are they all signed under “Amazon wishlist 👅 (for murder)”

Jason, sweating: ..that’s crazy

[pfpanimes]

⌕ chainsaw man • aki hayakawa.

like or reblog if you save/use. 🤍

[ramon-tikaram-love]

Ramon Tikaram as Charon Stephen Dillane as Prometheus Kaos (2024–)