#when i’ve been doing exactly as much as anyone on keeping the cycle going

[starfruitslush]

having such a sensory day /neg

[ctrlhope]

The Pitfalls of Silk (m)

synopsis: The winter gods are out to get you. That could be the only possible explanation for the series of bad luck tumbling before you— tropical vacation cancelled, snow locking you inside. Hell, even your shovel broken in half has got to be the gods playing some sort of trick on you. Pulling you along, making decisions for you as they guide you along the red string of fate. Guide you towards the very spider that found his way into your basement. Allowing him to fall into your heart all the same. -> apart of the rest, relax, reserve series

p.jimin x f.reader

⋆𐙚┊: wc: 20.0k

⋆𐙚┊: genre: hybrid au, soft yandere, soulmate au, romance, fluff, smut, v light angst

⋆𐙚┊: content: spider hybrid!jimin (cobalt blue tarantula), human!reader, soft yandere jimin, dom!jimin, power imbalances, blood, blood kink, injury, mates / mating, stupid misunderstandings, reader is rlly bad at feelings, heat/rut cycles, jealousy, biting/marking, jimin has fangs, brat taming, light subspace, bondage, fingering, breeding / breeding kink, unprotected sex, cumplay, overstimulation, manipulation, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of venom, honestly rlly soft- jimin is just a little off his rocker, so many mentions of the word silk, jimin is soft for reader but also a little perverted freak <\3

⋆𐙚┊: notes: AHHH it’s finally here!!! I’ve had such a bad crush on spider jimin for such a long time. Creating his character over the years in my head— how exactly this type of hybrid would function was so fun for me. This fic (& the others that follow) has been spurred on by my special interest in arthropods so I hope you end up loving this jimin as much as I do <33 mwah I kiss u guys

18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni

The weather has grown cold, too harsh for anyone to live outside— survive. Burly temperatures tumbling through the air in icicles, the entire world painted in white.

While the city was still busy, your quaint neighbourhood had gone completely quiet. Everyone huddled inside, trying to keep warm while they sipped on cocoa. The worst blizzard in generations deciding to tumble through on the exact weekend you were meant to go out of town. Meant to be enjoying a tropical beach with the best of your friends!

But nooo, all of the planes had to stay grounded and you had to be stuck in your house with nothing but chilly embers decorating your fireplace.

You were pissed about it all, to say the least. Annoyed that your vacation had to be cancelled, annoyed at the fact you couldn’t stay warm in the slightest, annoyed that you had to be shovelling snow out of your driveway right now.

Well, attempting to shovel snow would be a better way to put it. In theory it seemed like the right thing to do– try and get your car out just in case, start to clear a path for when you’d finally be able to greet the outside world, triumph over whatever winter gods are trying to keep you locked in your home.

In reality, you could hardly move– three layers of pants, two coats keeping all of your joints locked down. God, and the snow. It was coming down way too hard, piling up faster than you could brush it away. Hurting your cheeks with the freezing temperatures, making your bones throb with want to go back inside.

It is safe to say that you did not succeed. That was an easy enough conclusion to come to with the two halves of your snow shovel in your hands. Eyes staring blankly at the object with utter… you don’t even know the word.

Cheeks flushed red with cold, head lifting to the sky as you blink. What the fuck! How shitty can your shovel be! What the fuck is wrong with the snow!

Okay, maybe you did buy it at the dollar store. But that isn’t the point! Where has quality gone in our nation! Caring about the consumer! Yeah, that was never there to begin with! But still! You like to think that there's a point in that somewhere!

The snow falling on your skin feels like the sky is laughing at you, mocking you. It probably is. Cancelling your trip, forcing you to stay at home into the lonely confines of your small neighbourhood.

Yeah, the world is out to get you, you’ve decided it.

A grumble leaves your throat in annoyance, quiet cusses leaving your lips as your legs try to waddle themselves inside. Layers of clothing restricting every movement you make, joints feeling stiff and bones feeling cold. You are no more than a penguin, are you?

“Stupid fuckin’ shovel, stupid fuckin’ snow…” You huff, slamming the thick oak door behind you. Hoping, in a way, that you could pretend none of the frost was there in the first place.

It’s not that you hate snow– of course not. You don’t like to hate much of anything. But when it’s this deep, this thick, you can’t help the sour mood you fall into. Can’t help the sickly feeling in your gut that it has somehow wronged you simply for existing.

Whatever, not that it matters much. You aren’t mother nature. You can’t change it or your now cancelled– most likely non-refundable plans.

What you can change? A nice warm pizza in your tummy.

You hum to yourself, tapping off your boots before ridding yourself of them entirely. Soon follows your jackets, puddles of water quickly forming on the floor where it falls. Snow melting much too fast now that it is in the warmth of your home.

You stare at it in spite, another way mother nature has wronged you today.

You know what? No, not your problem right now. That is a problem for you later today! The wood would be fine. And if it isn’t?

…

You groan, throwing your head back as you move to the bathroom. The battle of opposing forces inside of your head has won again– being responsible, doing the right thing.

Your hand snatches a towel, “Stupid shovel… stupid snow…” You huff, kneeling on the ground to wipe away the liquid that pooled.

You hang the towel back in the bathroom for it to dry before finally making your way to the kitchen. To finally make the frozen pizza you want– no deserve! Yeah, you’ve had a hard day today, being an adult is too hard sometimes. You deserve a little treat don't you?

Feet scuffling against the floor, fluffy socks dragging along the surface allowing you to quickly slip against the tiled floor. Your hips sway, a quiet hum leaving your lips as your hands move diligently, efficiently. Placing the pizza in the oven, setting the timer, flipping the switch on on the kettle.

Everything happens with practised ease. With movements that leave no room for error. Careful, efficient, the way your parents always taught you. The right way.

If you do everything correctly, things will never go wrong. You’ll never have to worry. When everything is in your control, everything is perfect and content.

It’s too bad the right way never accounts for things out of your control. When the world causes you to tense and get annoyed– when it doesn’t behave the way it's supposed to, like you want it to. Just like stupid shovels and a winter storm no one predicted.

But hey, at least you still have power. Your backup generator is there if you need it. Can still watch your dramas and eat warm food. Keep yourself sane while the insane persits just outside of your door.

Lonely, lonely, lonely winter storm~ whatever shall you do~

Your head begins to sing to itself while you wait. Maybe you already were going insa–

Bang.

What the fuck was that?

Your eyes instantly dart to the basement door wide with fear– the source of the sound.

A crash, a quiet cry, a scurry all sound in quick succession. Too loud to miss. Too loud to ignore. Too distinct to place on anything else.

You know winter noises. The crash of shutters against the window, the influx of snow on glass. The beating of hail against the roof or the creaking of pipes chilled from the cold. The noises you just heard? None of the above. They couldn’t possibly be. They weren’t. They were too… too…

Human.

Shit, shit. Is someone in your basement?! Oh god, oh fuck.

The room, it freezes over.

Your pulse starts to race– hairs raise, stand on end. Breath filtering through your nose as you start to panic. Fingers grip the countertop as you try to ground yourself. Try to figure out a way to escape this.

If horror movies have taught you anything– it’s how to run. Grab everything you can, high tail it out before you become victim to the unknown lurking just below the surface of your floorboards. Before you can be possessed or worse, chased down by some mass murdering clown.

That would be the smart thing to do– the wise thing. To get out of your house as quickly as possible, call the police to investigate it for you before you have to become the ‘final girl’ of a movie franchise of your own.

But the storm, the storm would never allow for the right thing.

The police would never make it in time, the roads far too hazardous to truly reach you. If they did, you would already have frostbite from the cold outside by the time they made it. You might be worse off than before–

At least, that’s what you tell yourself. The reasoning formulated in your head as you grab a broom from the closet, slowly make your way to the basement door. Completely ignoring the nagging feeling in your gut, the one that tells you that you actually want to travel down the stairs. A string tugging you along a path predetermined, forcing you to forego anything you had thought before.

No, your line of reasoning had to be the object pulling you down those stairs, creaking with every slow, nagging step that you take. It could never be curiosity, a want to understand the unknown guide leading you astray from the dirt road you’ve taken time and time again.

The right road that would lead to the right solution is all but forgotten in this moment. Only adrenaline spurring you on, fingers clenching and unclenching around the broom handle in your grip. Fingers tied so tight around the metal that your knuckles may as well be white.

You're terrified– scared out of your mind. The only noise passing through the drums of your ears is your own pulse, the accelerated beat of your heart as you try to clear the fog that dances over your brain. Fear must be clouding your judgement, making you follow it blindly into the light; well, dark.

Your breath leaps from your chest in short pants, eyes haphazardly harding around your form as you make it to the bottom of the stairs. Something is keeping your legs moving when all your brain wants to do is turn back and run. Call the authorities like you should be doing instead of risking everything to satiate the incessant need pulling at the back of your skull. Acting on instincts alone, allowing the string of fate to tug you around the corner. The urge to investigate is stronger than anything you had ever felt before. Anything you’ve ever wanted to feel before.

He sees you before you see him.

“P-please..” The quiet, almost non-existent voice sends a chill down your spine. One you were not expecting in the slightest.

Terrified, panicked. Shaking like a leaf, eyes welled with tears. It’s almost like he knew you were coming down all along, just… didn’t know what to do about it. Too scared to move, too scared to hide. Too scared to do anything but sit there and wait.

Just as petrified as you.

Nothing about the scene before you is making much sense at all. Not to you, at least. Why is he so scared? Why is he in your home? Why isn’t he doing anything but sitting there with pleading, helpless eyes? You try to take everything in, try to fit the pieces of the picture together.

Basement window opened slightly, just enough to allow the man— was he a man? To climb inside. Pretty blonde hair completely dishevelled on his head, grime coating what you know would be such pretty locks. Eyes with double pupils brimmed with tears threatening to spill at any second. Pink plush lips quivering with worry, fangs biting into them so hard you fear they may bleed. No, they are bleeding.

He is definitely not a man. Nor is he a beast. An intoxicating swirl of the two combined into a species of hybrid you’ve never seen before.

The first thought in your head is one it shouldn’t be. One that makes your heart stop for entirely different reasons than before. Makes you drop the broom in your hands, allowing it to fall to the ground with a clatter. Defences dropped completely in the face of the stranger before you.

He only flinches at the noise, blood covered hands reaching in panic to cover his all too sensitive ears.

Any worries have left you– something seeded deep within your soul tells you he isn’t a threat in the slightest. Not to you, at least. Never to you. Maybe it is the same string as before pulling you along. Pulling you to what destiny has provided.

He is absolutely gorgeous. Even with the grime and his pale complexion from the cold you can tell that easily. He might just be the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen, and you find lost in yourself what to do about it.

What is anyone meant to do when a drop dead gorgeous hybrid enters their home in the middle of a blizzard? Just as scared as you were moments before? Looking like he might freeze to death if you don’t–

Holy shit he must be frozen solid.

It’s only then that you come to your senses, your eyes racking over him once more as you take in all of him for more than just the beauty he brings.

His clothes are thin– far too thin for this weather at least. Tattered on the edges, few stains spotting the fabric, though its clear effort was spent trying to get them out. Your mind wants to wonder why he would worry about that, worry about making himself appear presentable, but raking your vision down you know there is no time for it. Not with the blood on his palms or the red of his flesh.

Your body moves quicker than your brain can think, crouching down in front of him. Noticing the way he flinches once more, the fear in his eyes more palpable, hurting worse than a gunshot wound.

The constriction of your chest is dumb, or at least it should be. Feels almost benign, unfounded. You just met him, you're scaring him, but for an unexplainable reason you wish you could take all of his worry away just for that moment. Make him feel a little better, a little warm. A little safe.

“It’s okay… it’s okay…” Your voice mumbles, trying to soothe him or yourself, you’re not entirely sure.

“I-I’m sorry… pl-please don’t.. It’s just so cold… Please…” He begs, though neither of you are sure what for. Not to hurt him, not to send him back outside. All you know is the tears that now flow from his eyes, cresting along his cheeks, dripping to the floor.

“Not going anywhere…” You hope your voice sounds stronger than you feel, hope he can’t hear the way the strings of your heart break, hope he hears how much you care in your tone all along, “Trust me a little okay…?”

You know your words mean nothing, that it might have been an impossible task for him to do so. But you had to try. Had to hope.

It should be hard for you to trust him too, it should be hard to rectify your fear in the face of the one who had caused it. It isn’t the right thing– none of this is the right thing, but it all just comes too easily. Compassion, caring takes over the anxiety too easily. Too brilliantly to do anything else other than care for this hybrid that has wound up at your door.

He was just a scared hybrid doing whatever he needed to to survive. Terrified out of his mind that he would freeze or starve out there– probably had no burrow or… you’re not sure, honestly, what his home might be like. But no home nevertheless. You could never just send another person out there to die.

He stiffens as you reach out for him, gently take his hands in your own. They feel like ice, frozen solid. You don't want to acknowledge what could have happened to them if he was out there any longer.

Without thinking you raise them to your lips, blowing on them as best you can. Trying to do anything to get the blood flowing again before you take him upstairs. Warm him up properly. Make him feel like more than a snowman once again.

You don’t notice the way his form completely loses all stress as you touch him for the first time, speak to him the first time. He feels transfixed on your voice– it had to be too sweet to be real. But you were too focused on your mission. Too focused on making sure the man who has broken into your home is okay to notice the way his lips part slightly at your tone.

You don’t notice the way his breath hitches, the way all of his hair stands on edge as a current runs through his body, breathing life into every pore he possesses. Nor the way his eyes widen, losing their will to cry as he stares at you.

Don’t notice the recognition on his face.

You don’t notice a lot of things he does that day. Too focused on getting him into a warm shower– one he was very confused by, you might add. Too focused on getting a warm meal in his belly. Too focused on getting him in nice, clean clothes. A set that will properly keep him warm.

You could worry about other things later. But this felt right. This felt like something you were always meant to do. Or maybe that was just the size of your heart talking– you could never be too sure. But you liked to think it was the former. Liked to hope that Jimin, who you later learned was a spider hybrid, was always meant to come tumbling through your window, into your life for good.

The days that follow are easy– falling into a rhythm with him, taking care of him is just too simple. As basic as breathing, maybe.

Though, it hasn’t exactly been hard with how much he sleeps. How deep he’s nestled in your bed, blankets piled on top of him to drown out any chills that may attempt to slip into his bones. It’s almost like hibernation– if you could describe it. Re-building his energy, making himself feel strong again before he faces the world.

You can’t blame him, honestly. Not after everything he’s been through. Only god knows how long he had been out there. How long he had to brave the snowstorm, the cold weather that previewed it as well. You would probably do the same thing. Hide yourself from everything that hurt you.

Most days you wish you could be doing the exact same thing as him. Hide under a pile of blankets and forget the rest of the world exists. But the voice of your parents would always nag you out of it, force you to be human with the rest of society because it's the right thing.

You humph, gently placing a plate of food on the bedside table. Let him occupy your room for as long as he needs, preparing meals for him even though he never touches a bit of it. It’s the least you can do with his condition.

You don’t think you’ve ever wanted to stop someone's pain so badly. You hope you can by just doing small things like this. You sigh, heading for the door once again. Another day on the couch.

“Human…?” His voice is quiet, almost non-existent as he calls for you. Cracking slightly, the first time he's spoken in days.

You quickly turn to face him and almost want to fall to your knees at the sight. Fluffy blonde hair peeking from just below the covers, doll eyes peering at you while the rest of him stays hidden beneath the surface. Does he know how destructive he is?

Wait, no. Now isn’t the time to be thinking about this. He’s letting his defences down, actually talking to you. Stop it.

“Hmm?” You gently call back, glued to your spot in the doorway. You don’t know what he would do if you moved, how startled he may be because of it. You want to talk to him– to find answers.

“What time is it…?” He slowly asks, pacing his question. You notice a slight lisp behind his words– how much of an effort he puts to cover it up.

“Mmm.. about 1? I made myself some lunch so I was just stopping by.” You explain, trying to justify your presence in the room.

“Oh.” He looks beneath the blankets, eyes darting around the room, “Okay. Thank you.”

It seems neither of you are great conversationalists, awkward air passing between the space left between your bodies. You don’t blame him. You don’t know what you would be thinking, feeling if you were in the same place as him. If you didn’t really know what your fate was going to be.

“How are you feeling?” You ask quietly, playing with your fingers to distract from the nerves that you feel. As much as you want to jump, pin him down and ask every single thing your heart begs for, you know that isn't the right thing to do. You know you should be slow, careful with this. At least, that's what the articles online have told you.

“Better…” His voice comes out smoother this time, finally coming out of sleep as he sits up in the bed. Gently taking the plate into his lap, scrunching his nose. “It’s not cold in here like out there.”

You can’t help but smile to yourself. He seems so relaxed, so at ease. Not scared in the slightest of you or what you may do. You forget all about the fact that you should probably be scared of him too.

“Not really,” You smile gently, eyes glancing at the window as he starts to eat, “I was really worried about you, scared me bad.”

You don’t see the flush that covers his cheeks.

“I-I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to… your window was the first one I could get through and I knew I couldn’t take the storm anymore so I–”

“Hey, It’s fine.” You turn your attention back to him, “I’m just glad you’re okay, yeah? It must’ve been terrifying out there.”

“It was.” He doesn’t hesitate in answering in the slightest, eyes serious as they focus on you. They’re beautiful, really. His eyes.

“I’m sorry…”

He shakes his head, “Not your fault human, I left the reserve. My fault.” He tells you in earnest, wanting you to believe it with every piece of your soul that you could never do anything to hurt him, “Come sit?”

The question is quiet, but you oblige nonetheless. Legs moving you slowly, perching at the end of the bed to face him. Kicking your legs slightly as you stare at the pattern of your sweats.

“The reserve?” You ask, turning slightly to face him. His face is suddenly smiling, nodding at your question. He must like the place a lot, see it as home for him to become so excited.

“Yeah! Where I live,” He explains, continuing to shovel food into his mouth as he speaks, “They say humans can't hurt you there, you get to hunt like in the wild too.”

He hums, content in talking about the one place he has ever found comfort in, found friends in. You can’t help but smile as he speaks, too.

“Yeah? It sounds really nice.” He’s nodding his head once again, as quickly as he can.

“There are lots of other arthropods to play with there. Lot’s of food. Sometimes the humans that visit will give you some too, but they’re normally scared of me.” He suddenly looks serious, eyes coming to meet yours once again, “You’re not scared of me, right?”

You jerk your head back, brows furrowing together in confusion. How could someone be scared of someone like Jimin? You’ve only known him for a matter of days and you doubt that you could ever be.

“Of course not.” You tell him, gently reaching a hand over to place on his knee. He doesn’t flinch away like you expect him to. “You just needed some help, we all need help sometimes.”

He smiles, the serious demeanour retracting from his face in an instant. Back to smiling down at his food happily. The silence doesn’t feel as awkward anymore, at least you don't think it does. It makes you happy, stretching on as he continues to eat like a man starved. He probably is, days of not eating and only sleeping.

“Why did you leave it?” You tilt your head, staring out the window once more. Few snowflakes trickle against the blue sky, “I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But I figure if we’re going to be together through the storm–”

“You’re not gonna kick me out?” His face is awestruck, fork dropping to the plate in surprise. What is he talking about? Kick him out? In this weather?

You quickly shake your head, hand slowly pulling itself back from your knee. He whines in protest, quickly trying to force himself back under your heat. The touch of your hand warmed him up more than anything else in this room– more than the blankets, more than the heater or the warm towels.

His hand tangles itself with your own, pulls you back to his covered knee. Keeps your hand in place with his own while he uses the other to eat. Good. This is better. He likes it when you touch him. The way your small hand feels wrapped in his own.

Makes the tips of his fingers tingle, warmth spread throughout his skin. This is right. This is good.

“Why would I kick you out?” You ask in disbelief, either unnoticing or uncaring to the way he holds your hand– he’s unsure. Not that it matters much! “It’s too cold for anyone out there. I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

He smiles, the pit of his stomach only warming more at your words, “Good.”

“We have to wait for the snow to melt to drive you ba–” He cuts you off once again, not wanting to think about going back. At least not without you.

“My friend Taehyung leaves a lot,” He begins to explain, fingers squeezing your own as his palm lays heavy against the back of your hand, “He always talks about how fun it is. All the cool things he gets to see, you know?”

He places his plate to the side while he talks, licking one of his fangs gently. You don’t want to think about how handsome he looks while he does such an action.

“So I wanted to try it out, but we’re not really supposed to leave, you know? ‘Cause then we’re not protected.” You nod along, “And I don’t really have wings to fly out so… I had to wait until they weren’t really paying attention.”

“And that just happened to line up right before the snowstorm was supposed to hit.” You finish for him and he nods, looking down at his lap, “That has gotta be such shitty luck, Jimin. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s really not, you just wanted to go out and experience new things and you almost ended up dead.” You frown at him, trying to get the man to understand the gravity of what may have happened. He simply shakes his head, plush lips tilted into a small smile just for you.

“I said it’s okay.” He tries to make you believe it, leaning closer. Feeling nothing like the stranger he was only days before. “I got to meet you, so it was all worth it.”

Mate. Mate. Mate.

Jimin has a mate that he’s going to be with someday. Someone he’s going to fall in love with. Someone he’s meant to be with, be happy with for the rest of his life. Someone that isn’t you. You really need to accept that and move on from this stupid fucking crush you’ve developed. One that will amount to nothing but heartbreak.

All hybrids have them– Jimin is not excluded from that. You know it’s true. Know it’s so true that you can hardly breathe but he just makes it so easy, too fucking easy to fall for him.

He takes care of the house, cleans it for you whenever there is a mess. Does the dishes after dinner. Takes out the trash. Tells the spiders in the yard not to mess with you– okay, you’re not entirely sure he does that last one. But he is adamant he can speak to them, and who are you to rain on his little spidey parade.

As the seasons change and the months pass, he only makes it easier and easier. Fitting into your life like he was the only piece missing. Filling in all of the bits and pieces you never knew you needed, wrapping silk around your heart and pulling it tight before you could ever think about letting him go.

Even as the months heat and his deep blue roots grow out from his bleached hair, he has no desire to the place he once called home. The reserve quickly pushed aside every time you try to bring it up. Saying he likes it better here, that this is now his home.

To be honest, nothing makes you more happy. Nothing in the world could possibly make you feel better than Jimin. His little webs he places in the corners, the soft way he clings to you when he becomes needy, the way he likes to show you any bugs he catches before he eats them. You’re not sure you could continue in your life without it.

Yet still, still. You’re not sure if this is right. The right thing, the right way to go about it all.

You often fear that you’re keeping him from what he really wants, if he actually wants to go back but feels indebted to you in some way. If that’s the only reason he actually sticks around.

You worry you’re being selfish in that regard. And then once again you find yourself spiralling into the void of questions you could never have answered. Feelings that will always be unaccounted for because Jimin has a mate.

Or at least, will have one. Someday. And you’re not sure if you could handle that day coming. Not in the warm heat of spring, flowers blooming alongside feelings for an arachnid that has entered your life.

One that has no intention of leaving your side anytime soon, if he has anything to say about it.

But nothing, nothing in the world could prepare you for this. What could prepare the thrum of your heart or the butterflies in your tummy? You never expected him to hold you this close, keep your body pressed against his own in the small space of the coat closet. Keep his face tucked away in your neck, whining in pain at something you could never think to discern.

So quickly you were pulled away, without a second to waste you were dragged onto his lap. One second kicking off your shoes, covered in mud from gardening, the next a hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you into the dark confines. Only Jimin there to cover up your scream, lips delicately pressed to your ear uttering a quiet please. Voiced laced with a whine so pained you couldn’t help but join him without a second to spare.

A thought to think– a debate on whether this is right to do or not, for yourself and your own heart.

“Min? Min, what’s wrong?” It’s the only thing you can think to ask, pulling him away from your neck, making his head face your own. Hands gently cupping either cheek as your eyes attempt to make out the features of his face.

It’s too dark, you can’t see anything. The only answer he gives is in the form of a pained groan, not even his eyes reaching you through the darkness. You start to panic, feel the nerves along your spine light up in trepidation.

He’s hurt. He has to be. What happened? Is he okay? He’s never acted like this before. Not with you. Never before has he seemed so hurt, so dishevelled save for the night you first met him.

Just before this the two of you were gardening, mid-morning sun shining bright overhead. A light breeze passing through the trees keeping the two of you cool. That was it! He only went inside a few minutes before you, a few minutes alone and he was already hurt this bad.

Oh god, you never want him to hurt. To be in pain. It hurts your heart just as bad as it hurts him, if not worse.

You’ve fallen a lot farther than you thought.

“Min, let me just turn on the lights okay? Let me see what’s wrong.” You try to coax him, try to kneel from his lap to reach the string above you. Panic flooding through you as he keeps you snug, keeps you from helping him.

You stop your struggle, veins running cold as he lets out a sharp, violent hiss. A sound he’s never made before, never dare uttered towards you– around you in general. It leaves you nervous, scared for entirely different reasons than before.

But one thing is clear from the way his fingers dig into the skin of your wrist almost painfully. The same wrist that was reaching for the string. He doesn’t want you to turn on the light.

“Okay…okay I won’t…” You tell the arachnid, slowly lowering yourself back onto his lap. Letting go of the struggle, letting go of the resistance. It isn’t what he needs right now, isn’t what he wants.

His grip loosens, arms returning to their place around your waist. Holding you close. Keeping you in his arms. His face nuzzles back into your neck, inhaling deeply with every breath he takes. Smelling you. Imprinting the memory of it in his brain.

“What if I use my flashlight…? Would that be okay?” Once again, the response is a much short, quieter hiss. A lot less defensive, angry than the first. Just a sign of dismissal.

“Okay…” You say quietly, bringing one arm behind him to gently run through his hair. Scratching his scalp in a way that always has him preening, “Can you please tell me what's wrong? So I can help…? Please…”

Your voice is quiet, almost a beg as you ask him. He squeezes your body tighter in response. Would’ve basked in the tone you gave him if not for the pounding behind his eyelids. Still, he knows if he’s going to get you to stay, he has to talk. No matter how much it hurts.

A whine leaves his lips, nose running along the column of your neck as he tries to scent you, “Hurts.”

He answered, his voice shaky and quiet, but it gives you nothing.

“I know Min, I know…” You hush quietly, trying to consol something that you do not have the answer to. Your other hand slowly starts to soothe up and down his back, trying to relax the poor boy enough to speak.

“The light. Hurt eyes. Head Hurts.” He gruffs out, burying his face into your skin to block out any other source that he could.

Your lips part in a soft ‘o’ as the picture becomes clear to you. Staying outside too long, helping you in the garden had come at a cost to the poor spider in the form of a splitting headache.

How could you have been so dumb to let him help you? The articles you’ve read, the pieces you’ve tried to put together to understand the man in your life– they told you as much. How delicate some species' eyes could be but… Jimin never seemed to have that issue before. Never mentioned it, anyway. He doesn’t mention a lot about himself.

You frown.

“Min, I’m so sorry…”

He only grumbles in reply, blunt nails digging into the back of your shirt to keep himself grounded. To keep his head from pounding any louder.

“Let me– Let me go get you some Ibuprofen, yeah?” You hope the sound of your voice isn’t making everything worse. If it does, he doesn’t say anything, only shaking his head, burrowing it further under your hair.

“Just… stay.” He sighs in defeat, shoulders relaxing as he holds you close. He doesn’t need medicine. He doesn’t need anything else. He just needs you. Why can’t you understand that?

“I’ll–” You breathe, trying to force the flush of your cheeks to disappear. He can see in the dark, you know that much. You wouldn’t want him seeing this. The effect he has over you. Doesn’t he know how dangerous he is?

“I’ll stay.”You sigh in defeat, unaware to the pride that blooms in his chest at the battle won. The quiet chirp from his throat that he has you here, with him. Where you’re meant to be.

Hours pass just like that, just the two of you wrapped in each other's arms. No words spoken but quiet requests to know the other is okay. That the other is safe. Even as your muscles begin to cramp, bones start to become sore you don’t dare to move. Don’t dare to do a thing when you are the only one that matters to him right now.

Jimin makes it so easy to pretend.

Especially as his migraine begins to lift, as the conversation between two souls becomes more frequent. As he moves your body to the side so your head can rest against his chest. As his fingers smoothe over the skin of your thigh, rubbing gentle, comforting circles into your flesh.

“And then Namjoon, you know how bad a flyer he is, ran straight into the director of the park. Made her spill her whole coffee all over.” He smiles to himself as he tells the story of the bee hybrid, eyes heavy as he looks down at your form. So cute and small, “and you know what he said?”

You shake your head, “what?”

“‘You need some honey?’” He recites, dipping his voice in a deeper octave to mimic what you can only assume to be Namjoon’s. His voice falling into quiet giggles, you quickly follow suit. Laughing at stories of friends, feeling at home in the dark closet.

You don’t care how long the two of you have been in there. Only that he isn’t in pain anymore.

“I’m glad you’re okay now.” You tell him, eyes feeling heavy, the soothing tremor of his voice vibrating in his chest making your head start to fog. Inklings of sleep slipping into your frame. Head lulling back against him, looking up at him with sleepy eyes.

He nods, his throat constricting at just how perfect you look there, fingers teetering on the brink of digging into your skin once more. “Feeling a lot better… my vision is still a little spotty but it's okay.”

You pout. He has to hold back a coo. Too cute. Do you even know how cute you are when you get like this? Probably not.

“No, it’s not okay. I should have known. Told you to go back inside so you don’t get hurt. I don’t like it when you get hurt.”

His heart pounds once, twice before he releases a shaky exhale. Do you know what you do to him when you talk like that? When you show him just how much you care?

The level of restraint he has, it has to be impressive. If he was Taehyung, he would have taken you right there. Wrapped your arms in webs so you couldn’t move. Mate you without a second thought.

Seriously, what did you think you were doing? Talking to him like that? Making him feel like he’s going insane, a few short strings from breaking free and just taking you to his nest. Keeping you there.

You can’t say things like that to him. Not with how innocent you look, with how terribly he already wants you.

A harsh breath comes out of his nose as he forces the thoughts away. He’s not Taehyung. He’s not going to take you for his own selfish desires alone. No, he’s going to keep lulling you into his web like he knows you want. Knows you need. Keep being a good little spider for you.

“I should have told you.” He says quietly, lips coming down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, “Couldn’t have known my species is sensitive like that.”

You hum in quiet annoyance, “Still… read online about some glasses that can help some insects manage light… should have bought them.”

A courting gift? No no, you don’t know what that is. No matter what his spider screams he knows that isn’t true.

He sighs, he needs a distraction. Something to calm the voice in his head screaming at him to kiss you.

Your leg kicks out gently as he starts, feeling like nothing but a feather tickling across your skin. Gentle silks laying across the surface from his wrists, spinnerets hard at work to produce the webbing he places on your thigh.

He huffs quietly, a smirk of a laugh coming out as he moves your leg back, “Tickles?” He asks, an amused lilt present in his voice. Oh god, he’s going to start teasing you again. He loves teasing you.

“What are you doing?” You ask quietly, eyes glancing down to where his fingers move expertly. Thread after thread moving through his fingers, decorating your skin as he draws pictures. Paints flowers, sunsets, anything he can think of really across the canvas of your thigh.

“Just drawing… calms me down.” Marking you, claiming you. Showing every other arthropod that this one is his, this one is Jimins’. Well, at least for the next 3 days when the stick wears off. “Do you want me to stop?”

A tingle runs through your spine as he works, eyes not able to leave his hands for even a second. Your stomach swarms with what has to be a hive of bees, your core bubbling with something you don’t want to describe or think about.

You just hope he can’t smell you. Can’t hear the race of your heart, the increase in breath. The flush on your cheeks that travels all the way to your ears.

He can.

“N-no… It’s okay. I want you to feel better so… do what you need to do.” You mumble, trying to get your feelings to calm down before you fully lose it.

You have to buy those glasses.

Being a spider is just too difficult!

At least that’s what Jimin has told you time and time again over the past 8 months you’ve spent with him. Cold, icy months blossoming into the summer heat with him by your side. With him making residence in your home, cementing his place in your life without any regards for going back to his original home.

It’s too hard for him out there anyway! People at the park think you’re scary so they won’t give you any snacks, security removes your webs when they become too prominent around the landscape. Something about having to “give other spiders a chance” and them “taking up too much space.”

Can you believe them?! All the time and effort he put into his pretty webs, gone in a flash! The strain the sun caused his eyes, the pounding headaches he endured stringing up pieces of silk along the trees, creating a beautiful orchestra of white to claim his territory.

Thank god he doesn’t have to deal with that anymore, at least. Ever since you bought him those sunglasses, making webs outside has never been easier. Catching prey so much easier than ever before.

You don’t think you’ll ever get used to the sight of him eating the bugs he catches, but who are you to yuck his yum? You know all of the things he’s had to endure as a spider. Everything he’s convinced the world hates him for simply based on his breed alone. The least you can do is show kindness around his diet.

That’s how you end up rubbing his back in soothing circles time and time again, fangs piercing a stuffed animal or piece of fruit– anything he can get his hands on really, as he whines, flinches as he spits out all of his venom.

His venom is one of the worst things he’s had to deal with, you’ve learned. It builds up behind his teeth, waiting to be used on a waiting victim when there is no such thing. No exit point for the liquid to flow.

His fangs begin to ache, begging to pierce something just to release all of the pent up tension in his gums. It hurts too bad, too much to just keep it inside. So once a month, you find yourself in the same position, trying to help him relieve the aggression with soothing, gentle words as he spits the venom out in a way you can only imagine is unsatisfying. Leaving his fangs sensitive and achy for days to come.

In general, his fangs seem to be a point of special contention within the hybrid. They’re too pointy, cause too many issues. The extended canines digging into his plush lower lip just a little too hard making every movement just a little too uncomfortable. God, and he has to worry about brushing them to perfection– keep them pretty for his mate.

At least, that’s what he tells you.

The rest of the world hurts him. You don’t.

Today especially. At least that's what you can assume by the stretch of his arms, the whine bubbling from the back of his throat. His arms reaching for your form, beckoning you, calling you to join him on the couch. All worked up, acting like a wounded puppy that needs nursing just to get your attention.

It always works. Always will.

Some would say he’s become more pushy— more desperate for your attention, forcing it from your grasp without realizing it yourself. That’s what your friends have told you. How easily you fit into the palm of his hand with no more than a simple gesture coaxing you forward into his sweet embrace, never noticing the glares he sends others who enter your home.

No, you would deny all of it. Listen when he tells you that you don’t need your friends anyway. It just feels so good to be needed by him, wanted by him in a way you can never have him. In whatever way he’s willing to give.

r weakness than ever before. No matter how much you’ve tried to avoid it, how much you’ve tried to do the right thing and shove the stupid, pesky feelings down, he’s managed to twist himself into the confines of your heart. Filling a deep hole inside with his pretty silks and crooked little teeth. Takes up a lot more space then you’d ever be willing to admit. Not to him, anyway. Not when he could find his mate any day now.

You’ve been thinking about it more and more lately– the prospect of his mate. It’s difficult not to when he treats you so kindly. When he creeps in your bed at night to cold you, when he reaches out for your comfort alone. When he graces your neck with his fangs his lips–

You drop the dishes back in the sink, shoving your thoughts back into the deep dark recesses of your mind. Maybe if you can be his comfort for now, that will be enough. Even if it isn’t right.

Maybe that’s just how far you’ve fallen, how much he’s tangled you in his embrace. Not that it matters much, you smile all the same. Abandoning your task on only his third whine and fourth dramatic roll of the night. Giving in is so easy when it’s him.

But! It’s a new record for how long you’ve held out! Even got two stomps out of him. You should be proud of yourself.

Maybe you are, though it's for different reasons entirely as Jimin grabs at your wrists, pulling you down beside him. Nudging his face into the crook of your neck with a quiet, pained whine.

You like to ignore those other reasons. They’ll only hurt more if you face them head on. But it's hard to, so hard when he’s this close. When he’s holding you like you may just be the very thing from shattering his world apart.

Or maybe you’re over thinking things.

Yeah. It’s probably that.

“Y/n…” You feel his lips ghost your neck as he whines, wiggling slightly in discomfort.

His duality is always impressive, has been making your brain go a little haywire since he first moved in, since he became more comfortable in your presence. Letting you see him for what he really is. Always playing so cute, so pliant when he needs something– attention, food, for you to just give in and give him what he wants.

Other times he acts as if he could be the reincarnation of Arachne herself. Beautiful, deceptive. Terrifyingly aware of how attractive he is to the human eye. You think he does it on purpose. Likes to see your head spin as you try to keep up with which apparition of Jimin you will experience that day.

He doesn’t know how dangerous it can be, especially for you. How easy it can be to believe that it's real and not just the flirt of his personality. At least you have cute Jimin for now. It’s a little easier to manage.

“You okay Minnie? Something happen?” Your arm reaches up for where he clings to it, fingers gently petting through his fluffy blonde hair. The action seems to soothe him, make him almost pur from the feeling of your fingers alone. Make him feel the slightest bit better from whatever might be irritating him.

He forces his wrists onto your lap, nuzzles his face further into your neck. Inhale all the scents you have to offer. Let you see the issue of spiders.

The tiny holes of his spinnerets come into view, red and inflamed. Shit. They have to be hurting. The skin jutting out slightly more than it should be. Pretty strings of silk hanging in a messy manner. Clogged glands always hurt. Always make for issues.

You frown at the sight, delicately taking his wrist into your hand, looking at it closer. No, not too bad you have to take him to the doctor… you can handle it fine. But it won’t feel good, it never does. Dummy must’ve gotten too excited while webbing up the basement again, got his poor spinnerets working too hard. Overproducing silk to the point it has nowhere to go.

“Min!” You whine, already grabbing a pair of tweezers from the side-table– you’ve learned it’s always good to have a pair on-hand. “I told you that you gotta be more careful!”

“I know!” He hisses almost pathetically, “Just got ahead of myself!”

His voice is no more than a grumble, turning his head away from you yet not pulling away in the slightest. Pretending he hates when you scold him, when you show just how much you care about him.

You pretend it isn’t cute in much the same way.

“Always end up getting ahead of yourself,” You sigh dramatically, acting as if having to take care of the arachnid bothers you more than it actually does. Truth be told, you don’t care in the slightest. Who knows, maybe it even makes you preen in delight.

Feeling wanted as your fingers try to be as gentle as possible while removing the silk. Pulling out the little pieces strand by strand, work out the knot it's made under the skin to try and bring him some relief.

Though, no matter how careful you may be, he still flinches in pain all the same. Trying to cover it up like it was nothing, like every poke and prod doesn’t hurt. Like he can be tough under your gentle hands and pained gaze. He knows it has to be done and no matter how much you hate to see him in pain, you do too.

The dull ache will grow worse and worse, could even turn into an infection if you don't handle it as fast as possible. Worst case? He may have to have his spinnerets removed completely. A fate that feels worse than death to a spider hybrid– or so you’ve read at least.

Soon after he came into your life you did everything in your power to learn as much about his species as possible. Scoured webpage upon webpage, blog post on blog post, youtube video after youtube video. Even went down the sticky threads of a reddit rabbithole to try and learn everything about him.

The only thing you found: how horrible arthropod hybrids are treated in your society. Either sold at auction for absurd prices or cast aside completely depending on how “inhuman” they look. How they are used as tools to show wealth or are discarded from the rest of the world completely. The notion alone had pissed you off to no end.

Jimin was a member of the latter group– or at least that’s what you assumed. From behind no one would be able to tell he was any less than human. His lack of multiple limbs or fluttering wings left him to the devices of the reserve. Probably cast aside, dropped off by the people that raised him for not providing anything that went along with their definition of ‘value’.

Your eyes pinch into a quiet glare. They’re just fucking stupid. Anyone could see that Jimin is perfect. Anyone could see that he did not deserve the treatment he's received, nor deserved to be in the state he was in when you first found him.

And while you’re glad he didn’t end up with anyone else, still didn’t end up in an auction house like many others had, you hate them for thinking they could define his value. That they could define him for more than what he lacked. He still has beautiful fangs. Still has beautiful eyes and his natural cobalt-blue hair. He is still perfect to you.

A sharp hiss leaves his lips, arm attempting to jerk back from your hold as your grip tightens just a hair too hard. As you accidentally tug on a far too sensitive part of the knot. Getting a little too lost in your head while your fingers pick away diligently. Trying to ease the pain as fast as you can.

“Human!” He whines, quickly shushed by a flurry of apologies leaving your mouth. Face flushed, panic in your eyes as he admonishes you.

Once again you’re reminded all too well of how far you’ve fallen for him. Heart racing, brain yelling at itself for hurting him.

It’s dumb, you know that. Everything about the schoolgirl crush you’ve formed on him is. But it doesn’t stop the frown on your lips, the gentle rub of your fingers into his skin as you try to make it up to him.

A quiet grumble leaves his lips, heart hurting at the little dejected expression you wear. He forgives better than he forgets, moving his arms back to the pillow propped on your lap, allowing you to continue your work.

A pout stays on his lips as he watches your hands move. Watches the way the tweezers move under the thin layer of skin. Watches the way you move softer now, taking your time with him. Trying your utmost to not hurt him again.

To you it feels far too intimate. To him, it leaves him almost feral.

“Been working really hard on them lately, haven’t you?” Your voice sounds, trying to distract him or yourself from wandering thoughts– you’re not sure. He’s almost clean– almost all better so you can stop playing nurse. Get a warm washcloth to soothe the skin, take away any ache that lasts from the overused glands.

He nods, “Autumn is coming up…” He mumbles, the words leaving his lips in almost a shy fashion. Like it’s a secret that isn’t a secret at all in the coy fashion he knows you adore.

He knows all too well all of the things that make your stomach flutter. Listens to your heart beat like it’s his favourite song, the flush of your cheeks his favourite painting. Every little twitch of your lip or tap of your feet he catches with ease. You are his favourite everything.

You’ve become far more interesting than any book, far more gorgeous than any actress. Learned to read you better than yourself.But he supposes that would happen to any hybrid who had to wait as long as him, endure as much as he has.

Humans are tricky things, you know? You have to wait and wait and wait just for them to finally give into what they really want. Play the long game to win a prize at the end like he wants, deserves.

He’ll win it soon. August.

“Mmm? Having a contest with the house spiders or something?” You giggle, an effort to try and keep the atmosphere as light as possible. Try to distract from any pain he may be feeling at the moment.

Jimin is convinced he can speak to them– the house spiders that you allow to stay in the corners of your house. Another one of Jimin’s pitfalls that you couldn’t help but wonder into. He claims that they’re his friends, that he talks to them all the time. You, on the other hand, are unconvinced. They probably just use him for food!

“How did you know?! Who told you!” He gasps in mock surprise, head dipping low to rest on your shoulder before he continues, “No, not this time…they all know I would win anyway.”

“I know you would,” He doesn’t allow you in the basement to look at them, at least he hasn’t in the last month, but you’ve seen plenty strung around the house. Dotted in the corners of each room, his way of claiming territory. “You’ve always got such pretty silk.”

His face flushes– he knows you can’t see it. It’s good if you don’t, better if you have no clue how much your words affect him. Exactly how much those words mean to him.

Hopefully you will soon enough. Hopefully, if things go according to plan, you’ll know a lot of things. But right now you just need to stay a little clueless. Just for a little longer.

That’s what he promises to himself.

“What’s happening in autumn then?” You ask, finally pulling the last bit of silk from his left wrist. Both finally clean, finally working like they should be.

Taking each wrist into one of your hands, your thumbs find the openings to the spinnerets. Fingers rubbing gentle, soothing circles into the flesh. Your version of a little makeshift massage. One that always causes him to fall apart under. Spine slumping, mouth parting slightly as he watches your fingers work. His brain going a little empty along with the soothing motion of your fingertips.

Another thing that you don’t understand the intimacy of. The extent of what your touch means to him. How terribly it makes him want to bite you.

His voice is a pitch lower than before. You can’t help but notice the way his breath stutters in his throat at the gentle movement of your thumbs. The way his pupils expand ever so slightly. The way he leans into your touch, avoids eye contact at all costs.

You can’t help the blush that dusts your cheeks, the flutter of your ribcage. The way you keep going just because you know it’s making him feel good.

Stop it! You’re thinking in a bad way again! It isn't right! It’s just from the massage, the relief after his spinnerets are cleared! God, you can’t think about him like this. Can’t do this to yourself! Calm down, seriously. None of this is a big deal.

You know he can hear fast your heart is beating regardless of the argument going on inside of your brain.

“Autumn is mating season.” Your thumbs stutter.

Oh. That is something all of the articles definitely neglected to tell you. They didn’t tell you anything about… that aspect of spiders. Not that they explained much to begin with but certainly nothing about breeding.

You can’t help the way your grip tightens, trying to find purchase– stability at the revelation. Heart thrumming in your chest faster, more aggravated than before. The chill that travels down your spine with the hum of his voice so close to your ear.

Can’t help the sinch of jealousy that finds you either.

Fuck, you hate that he’s smirking– without even looking at his face you can tell! You know he can hear the exact pitter-patter of your heart, any little sound or smell you let out he can easily pick up. Knows your exact emotions before you know them yourself.

“Ah… I see.” This topic really shouldn’t make you so embarrassed! Pull yourself together!

You know that all hybrids have a cycle they go through. Heats, ruts, anything in between. You knew that when Jimin came into your life he would be the same! Knew there would be a time when he’d have to lock himself in the basement, body flooded with hormones. The pretty sounds you’d have to block out filling the house.

But still, because it’s him, you can’t help the nerves that arise from your core. The realisation that it would be coming sometime soon.

If you’re going to make it through you’d have to invest in some soundproof headphones. For your own sanity.

“Mmm?” He smiles, voice sweet and saccharine. Away with the pain of existing also left cute Jimin, leaving a deadly predator in its wake. One that likes to taunt and tease you while acting as innocent as an angel.

Leaves your brain confused, floundering trying to keep up with his deceptively sweet tongue. Doing it all just to get a cute little reaction out of you.

Guess he picked up on the exact little whirlwind of your mind, “You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed…”

“Shut up!” You whine, trying to stand from the couch so you can retrieve a washcloth. Try to avoid the way your heart is going to pound out of your chest, the way you know you’ll fall farther into his clutches.

His arms lock on firm, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck to rub his cheeks against your skin. Scent you just like he does a million times a day claiming that it's necessary. Spiders smell so much less than other hybrids– he has to do it or else.

Or at least that’s what he says– you think that it’s another lie.

“What!” He laughs, “Not like I’m saying anything dirty, it’s only natural.” He chides, sliding back against the couch, pulling you into his side with ease. Slotting you in like you’re meant to fit there, not whatever mate he meets in the future.

Your brain yells at itself. You know how dangerous that line of thinking is.

“Unless you want me to be dirty? I could if I wanted, you know.” He smiles as innocently as a wolf, fangs oozing with confidence behind them.

“Oh my god!” You sigh dramatically, putting on the front you always do when your heart feels like it may just explode. When you feel like digging an early grave because Jimin knows exactly what he’s doing.

You simply roll your eyes, “And I could punch you in the dick if I wanted to, you know?”

His laugh is always so pretty, boisterous yet still as light as air. Head tilting back, his neck on display as he chastises you for the empty threat. One you both know won’t come true, at least not right now.

He smiles, a gentle kiss being placed on your forehead as he urges you to stay. Promising he’ll be a ‘good little spider’ so you don’t have to worry about him. The implication of snacks and movies making you stay. The way he pouts when you tell him you’re not buying anymore BugBitez™ until the end of the week confirming that this is where you need to be right now. That it’s right.

It’s almost too easy for him too. Everything is too easy for you when it comes to Jimin. He claims the exact same.

Or at least, that’s what he mumbles in your ear now. Arms wrapped around you as tight as he can manage. Movie nearing its end with Jimin on the cusp of consciousness, you having lost the plot of it a long time ago.

Something about Aliens? Cowboys? Mothman? You couldn’t even hope to guess. Not when his breath is in your ear.

It’s hard to focus when he’s so close like this. When he’s saying pretty words that could get you lost in your fantasy over and over again. Making him harder and harder to give him up every moment that passes you by.

“Got lucky with my human.” He mumbles, half asleep, face buried in your hair, “Really good human.”

His lips move so lazily when they speak. Fangs running across the surface your skin like they have a mind of their own. Never daring to pierce the surface. Never daring to bite you for real. No matter how bad he really, really wants to.

How bad he wants to mate you. Make you his pliant little prey– see if the rumours about what his venom does to humans is real.

Your breath stutters but you pay it no mind. Trying, begging your eyes to remain focused on the movie. To ignore how deceptive sleepy Jimin is. Tomorrow, he will act as normal. His words will carry no weight.

He isn’t your boyfriend. You aren’t his mate. You two are just friends sharing a house.

Feelings you have no right to have are forced down over and over again. It seems like it's become a daily occurrence– a pattern of habit you have no hope in breaking. The love piling behind your eyelids means nothing when the person he is meant to be with could be around any corner.

But it’s getting harder. Too hard to hold them back and restrain yourself. Especially on nights like this when it feels like fate that the two of you met.

Thinking back on that fateful day now, all of those months ago, you’re sure it had to have been. Maybe the winter gods (if such a thing existed) decided to shine their light on you; to make the blizzard a little less lonely. Make your life filled with long days and even longer nights just a little bit brighter.

Or maybe they hated you and wanted you to suffer.

Wanted you to live a life knowing your affections will never be reciprocated, knowing that Jimin has a fated one out there somewhere just waiting for him. Knowing that it isn’t you. Cursing you to a life of watching Jimin fall for another.

Thinking becomes so hard when it’s about Jimin. When it’s about the man who made you so far into the pits of hell that you don’t think you’ll ever crawl out.

So instead your fingers simply squeeze his hand. Rub gentle, soothing circles into the skin. Care for him like you’re meant to instead of thinking about what the future may hold. What will happen when he does find his mate. What they might be like, what they might dress like, if they’ll have to move in here, if you’ll have to watch him fall in love over and over again every single day.

You think you might hate them.

You sigh.

No, that wouldn’t be fair. Could never be fair to Min. He deserves happiness. He deserves the world whether or not you’re a part of it.

You hope he isn’t able to pick up on the changes in your scent.

“Mmm mm, got lucky with you Min.”

August 11th.

A beautiful dream shattered by the incoherent nightmare that is your spider pacing around your room. A pillow pulled to either side of your head, doing everything in their power to drown out the noise as an audible groan leaves your lips. His nervous prattling too early in the morning for your liking.

Any other day it would be fine, you would think that it’s cute. The way he worries his lip between his teeth. The way he gently bites down on the pad of his thumb, one arm crossed while the other soothes the skin of his chin.

Any other day you’d sit in bed, listen to him. Mock him slightly with how much worry runs through his body.

But he isn’t talking about his mate any other day, is he? No, it seems that the occasion has been saved for this morning. His head running a mile a minute, losing all composure he once had before. Losing his very sense of self as anxiety courses through his veins.

“What if it isn’t good enough? I need to present it to her soon. Need to make sure everything is perfect for her.” Apparently he had met her. When? You have not a single clue. Jimin hasn’t left the house in weeks other than to go hunt bugs and to go to the grocery store with you.

“What if the web isn’t big enough? She might not like the style either…” He grumbles, eyes locked on the carpet as he moves back and forth across your room, “God and what if she hates the food… No, no you know what she likes.”

“Jimin, she’ll like everything. It will be fine.” You groan, sitting up in bed to face him, voice gruff with morning air.. You don’t want him to be in here, talking about this. Talking to you about this. Shattering your heart every second that passes by.

You knew it would happen someday, you really did. You tried to do everything right. Tried to pretend reality wasn’t creeping through your windows with every second that passes by. Try to ignore the impending sense of doom that covered your skin.

Did everything right only to end up failing once again due to the rations of Park Jimin.

You try to look at him through the fuzz in your eyes, sleep still trying to force you back into its clutches with everything that it has. Try to see what he is doing– understand what he is saying. His voice continuing to speak yet not fluent enough for you to actually understand. His body twitches ever so slightly, head jerking as his teeth dig deeper and deeper into his thumb. It was almost like you weren’t even in the room– not to him at least. Lost within the tangles of his brain.

Pulling himself deeper and deeper into the recesses of his mind, spiralling out of control of everything that seems rational, everything that he is meant to do or meant to say. It’s almost like he isn’t in the room at all. Isn’t pacing along your floor, surrounded by your scent. Comforting his inner spider before it loses control entirely with the hormones that rush through his veins.

August 11th. The date was circled 5 times on his calendar– red exclamation points, doodles scattered across the stupid day. Yet now, for the life of him he can’t seem to remember why. He can’t seem to remember much of anything though, so that isn’t a surprise. Only his web. The gifts he’s prepared for this day. Yeah. Those are the only things he can seem to think about.

A hand lands on his shoulder– one that isn’t his own. Who’s touching him? He isn’t sure. Isn’t sure of much other than the smell combing through the room that becomes sweeter and sweeter by the second. Honey he is unable to resist.

Especially with how soft the hand is that touches him. How gentle it is on his shoulder, his pace back and forth falling just so he can revel in it. Understand it.

“Hey Min.” Oh. It’s you. Your voice coming through the fog. Your voice startling him from the dream.

Gorgeous, gorgeous you.

Mate.

“It’s gonna be okay, yeah?” Why do you sound sad? No, maybe it’s distressed. His face falls.

No, no, no. You shouldn’t be sad. You should never be sad. You should always be happy with him. You should love him. His love should make you whole. Your love makes him whole.

Wait, does he have your love yet?

Now he isn’t sure.

All he knows is that he should. You should. He should wrap you up in his nest, hold you close until you feel nothing but him. Don’t think about anybody else. Look at anybody else. You should always be happy and safe. Happy and safe with him just like he feels with you. Has always felt with you.

More than that stupid reserve. More than his webs back there. It was fate that brought the two of you together, right? Right? So he should be allowed to indulge just a little. He should be allowed to let go of this stupid, fucked up play he’s been putting on for so long. He should be allowed to do whatever he wants.

The reserve always taught him he was a wild spider, you know?

Wait, spider.

Spider.

His rut. That’s what’s coming today. That’s why the day was circled. That’s why Jimin isn’t acting like himself. That’s why his spider is itching, clawing to come out to play. Why he so desperately wants all of you to himself.

He hasn’t even presented his web yet.

He tilts his head at you, blank eyes staring down into bright ones. Ones that hold his entire world at your fingertips.

“There he is.” Your smile is almost blinding. Makes his head pound just like the sun's rays.

That’s right. That’s why he needs to keep his composure. To keep that smile on your lips. To keep you happy. To keep you falling in love with him slowly the human way. The way he knows you’d prefer. Knows you adore every second of.

He isn’t Taehyung. He isn’t Taehyung.

The human way is better. Better at keeping you pliant. Better at keeping you happy. Better at keeping you unafraid.

He hates when people are scared of him. Hates when people flinch with every movement he makes. Hates when people can’t just love him like he so craves. He’s still a hybrid. He still wants love. He was bred for it just like the rest of them.

So when you came into his life, so gentle and caring despite the palpable fear that scented the air– weighed it heavily, it sparked light behind his eyes. When he felt you touch him, felt the sparks dance across his flesh and allowed himself to inhale once more. When there were no traces of fear within you, only the scent of his mate. His eternity.

He knew he had to do the right thing. Had to make you love him the human way. Had to make you fall for him, endure the wait. Endure the daily struggles of his instincts just so you would never be afraid of him. The end would be worth it.

He would never let you fear him even at the cost of his own sanity.

Because he isn’t Taehyung. He’s Jimin. He’s a good spider.

“You need to be careful Min…” You tell him quietly. Your voice is the only anchor to his shaky world. The light brought him back from the edge over and over again today.

He needs to leave your room before all of his planning goes to waste. Calm himself down. Present to you his web and all of his gifts so you can accept him properly.

“Your thumb… it’s bleeding honey…” He tilts his head again, inspects your hands as they move closer. Tries to force lucid thought from behind his heavy eyelids as you touch his skin directly.

Tries to ignore the throb deep inside as you gently remove the finger from his lips. Pull it away from the fang that was piercing him. The sting of the bite.

He hadn’t even noticed it.

He watches as a single drop spills from the abrasion. Slipping down his finger. Feels the way your hands come up to cup his cheeks.

Leave. Leave. Leave.

The way your thumb comes to his lips, worry etched across your features as you swipe away any remaining blood from his lower lip.

Leave. He needs to leave.

He isn’t sure how your finger ends up in his mouth. His plush lips wrapping around the digit, tongue curling around your flesh as he licks away the red spilled. Sucking on it gently as heat curls in his stomach. His eyes half-lidded, staring into the recesses of your very soul.

A groan passes through him at the taste of your skin. How sweet you are against his tongue. Do you even know what a vixen you are? What a tease you’ve come to be over the past 9 months?

No. Of course you don’t. Not with the blush that rushes to your cheeks. The stutter of his name that passes through his lips. The questions that you ask– what are you doing? Wh-why?

He wants you to be quiet. To enjoy you for all it’s worth. Enjoy everything you have to offer.

The command is silent– no more than the press of his bleeding thumb to your lips. The demand that you part them for him. To clean that wound that you unknowingly caused.

A hand on your cheek directing your head back. He’s been a good little spider, you can be a good little girl too, can’t you?

You are.

“J-Jimi–” He slips it inside, resting the pad against your tongue. Holding it in place. Asking, begging for this one little thing from you. You don’t mind, do you? You’ve always made him feel better before. This is no different, is it?

And so you do.

He watches the way your eyelids fall, your lips close as you begin to gently suck against it like he so craves. Like he desires down to the very cells that make up his body.

To imagine it’s his cock instead. Gently fucking into you over and over again, teaching you how to take his it how he likes. How he knows you’ll like. You’ll love everything about him. You’re meant to. It’s in the fabric of your DNA and soon it will all be his. Right after he shows you his–

Shit.

He needs to leave.

Got carried away in his fantasy. In pretending again.

His rut is coming too fast, too strong now that he finally has his mate in his grasp. He needs to leave. He needs to calm down so he can go this properly.

He leaves you on the bed, more confused and distressed than when he first entered. Annoyance hovering over your entire wake in a blanket of unrest. One that you know will not ease your soul for the rest of the day.

The spider has locked himself away. Hiding from you. Keeping himself in the basement, door locked, shutters drawn to drown out any sense of you that may be persisting.

You, on the other hand, have had nothing to do but stew in your own emotions. Think about every little decrepit detail that occurred hours prior. Edicting yourself to only address him by spider even in your thoughts.

It’s spiteful, sure. But it’s the least he deserves, you know? After everything he’s put you though– pulling you along like a little puppet on a string. Making you sit idly by for him to give you any lick of affection he’s willing to part with. Making you feel special, like you're worth something every second that he gets only for him to remind you with too much familiarity that he isn’t yours to have.

He woke you up, told you about his mate, looked at you like he was going to fuck you, and made you suck on his finger only for him to leave? The sheer fucking audacity of this man.

You’re sick of it.

Sick of having to force everything down because you know it isn’t what he wants. Sick of falling in love with him every day. Sick of having to play house. Sick of not having him. Sick of being playing the lovesick fool.

So, into the novels you fall. Into alternate worlds that are far better than your own. Displacing yourself into new habitats, new environments to escape the confines of the four stuffy walls that surround your body, head, and heart.

Into a world where it’s okay to fall in love with whoever you want. Where it’s okay to feel wanted. Where reality can be shut away by your headphones and a good snack. Where you can ignore the body approaching behind you. The tap on your shoulder.

You try to, honestly. And a good attempt it was.

Keeping your grip firm on the pages, nails digging into the paper below. Breath in your lungs held as if doing so would keep him away. Eyes tracing the pages over and over again though reading nothing. Attempting to appear as if you didn’t notice him at all.

Maybe he would leave, that was your biggest hope. Take the headphones placed firmly over your ears as a loud, obnoxious hint. That he would see you’re not interested and retreat to his basement layer to plot on the next way to torture your heart.

He doesn’t. He never would.

His frame comes to kneel in front of you. To stare up at you with those big brown doe eyes that you know you could never escape. Placing a gentle hand on your knee, trying to get you to see that he is there. That he wants to see you.

You see his lips move, though ignore entirely what they say. Letting out a huff, turning your body away from his own. Continuing to mindlessly stare at the pages even though their contents holds no meaning in this moment. No real value.

His forehead drops to your leg, a sigh leaving his throat. Words mumbled from his lips you’re unable to make out– not that you would want to hear them anyway.

Maybe it’s a temper tantrum of sorts. Giving him a taste of his own medicine. To feel even a pinch of what you do. He probably never does.

Your fight is a good one. It truly is– at least you think so. But it all comes tumbling down the second his lips press against your knee. His hands reaching past your iron grip on the book to hold your own.

You will always fall to the likes of Jimin.

Especially when you see his lips mouth the word please. His brows crested with worry, his lower lip quivering in worry. Fangs biting the surface to try and soothe the nerves he feels.

Any sense of foreboding he held earlier, gone. The tick of his shoulders, the cold, blank stare of his eyes vanished. Your Jimin, the one you’re used to, in love with, rising to the surface again.

You’re unable to fight against the plea, no matter how much you want to. Unable to fight against him.

“What is it.” Your voice is harsh as you remove your headphones, setting the book to the side. Much more than it appears he’d like it to be if the flinch of his neck is anything to go by.

“I…” Words feel lost in his throat, but he forces himself to continue forward, “I have something I need to show you, human…”

Why is he acting so weird? Acting like earlier never happened? He seems nervous, almost petrified at your reaction. As if anything you say could break him entirely.

You don’t understand it at all. Anything about this situation, really.

“Okay…?” You watch his face carefully, trying to reason. To figure out why exactly the air seems so heavy. Why this situation feels so tense. “Show me then?”

“I…You have to come with me?” It sounds like a question, his face flinching at his own words. He’s meant to do this perfectly. Why can’t he seem to get it right? Why can’t his instincts help him with this? “Like, I can’t bring it up here… I need you to follow me?”

“Huh?” The quiet breath leaves your throat as your features pinch.

He quickly tries to explain further, trying to help you see through the worry on your face, “Not far I promise. Just to the basement, yeah?”

Your head jerks back in surprise, “You never let me go down there.”

“Yeah but…it’s special this time.” Oh.

It’s almost as if the pieces click together on their own. Your brain drawing conclusions, making decisions for you despite the obvious staring right in your face. His mate is probably down there. Wants you to meet her.

You can only sigh, accept your fate for what it is. Follow the boy with the string to the basement once again, just like the first night he came tumbling into your life.

“Okay.”

He holds your hand as you walk.

Holds it as if his life depends on it. As if it’s the red string of fate that has tied your two bodies together for the rest of eternity. As if he might die the second you two part. As if you might run away the second he lets go.

You never do, never try to run away from him. You’ve tried to run away from your feelings for so long. The least you can do is see through to the end of them, right? That would be the right thing to do. The dignified thing instead of trying to throw a tantrum on the floor.

The walk to the basement feels like the longest in your life. A marathon you have no training for, no experience with tugging you along. Silence extended for miles along each creak of the floorboards, each set of the dim stairs.

Jimin left the lights off, dusk settling along the horizon not long ago. Only distant flickers from the basement coming through as you make your way down. Candle light in the distance lighting the way.

He doesn’t say a thing as your feet reach the bottom of the stairs, toes cushioned by soft silk lining the floors. He doesn’t have to.

It’s beautiful. That’s the only way you can describe what he’s turned the basement into.

Beautiful silks cover every waking surface– the floors, the walls, the ceiling all lined in brilliant patterns of white dancing across the surface. Creating stories as if they were living themselves.

You wish you could stare at them. Admire them for the rest of your life. Decipher each piece laying, coating the surface. Envisioning the world through the eyes of Jimin. Through the world around him.

Webs cross from floor to ceiling, taking space over the room. Intricately laid in patterns you are more accustomed to with spiders. Webbed hatching sectioning off parts of the space, acting as furniture for the bug to rest on.

As your eyes scan the room, you finally find what you think has to be the most gorgeous web in the world. Sitting in the far right corner of the room stands a nest that takes up the entire corner. The effort it took to make it clear in its craft. So soft, so comfortable.

You almost want to curl up in it yourself.

Illuminated by only the glow of candle light, Jimin does nothing but watch as you take everything in. Watch as your face changes into that of euphoria. Mesmerised by everything he has worked so hard on, everything he’s done just to impress you.

You turn to face him, staring at him with nothing but wonder in your eyes.

“Jimin, this is– fuck this is incredible,” Your voice is breathless, cut off by how overwhelmed you are with everything. With him. “This must’ve taken you so long, it’s so beautiful. Oh my god, how did you–”

He can’t take it anymore. Can’t take it now that he has you here, has you in his web. Now that he can keep you in it forever. Complimenting him. Completing him. He needs to finish with the rest of this fast. Before he does something he’ll regret. Before he finishes showing you how good a mate he will be to you properly.

He tugs you forward, practically puzzling as he tugs you deeper into his room of webs. Expertly guiding you through each one without a second to spare.

Jittery, excited. Feeting rocking themselves back and forth as he sits you on a blanket placed on the ground.

He isn't going to last much longer. Not before his heat takes over. Before he loses his mind at you in the sight of his nest. His mate in his nest. Waiting to be bred. Waiting for–

No, no Jimin. Stop it. Stop acting like a spiderling that doesn’t know what to do with himself now that he has his mate in his nest.

“I…” He takes a deep breath, voice shaky as he tries to calm himself down, “I made us a picnic… I hope you like it.”

His spider hisses at the words, hating having to describe it as something stupid like a picnic. No, it's a nuptial gift. Evidence that he’s a good enough mate. That he’s good enough for you. That he deserves you.

You watch him, watch as he pushes the basket filled to the brim with food over to you. Watch as his frame shakes slightly as he stares at you, fingers tapping against strings of webs closest to your leg.

You can’t help but feel lost. Overwhelmed with affection, but utterly, entirely, hopelessly lost all the same. What is he doing? Why is he presenting all of this for you? Shouldn’t he be doing this for his mate? Isn’t all of this some type of courting ritual?

Oh.

It appears the puzzle you constructed– pieces matched together haphazardly stuck together with glue isn’t the solution after all. Isn’t the reality presented before you know.

You’re… you’re Jimin’s mate?

Your eyes widen, head jerking to meet Jimin’s gaze. His pupils shaky, not daring to leave the surface of the basket. Not daring to move an inch until you accept him.

You’re an idiot.

“J-Jimin a-are we…?” You hesitate to ask, hesitate to break the gentle balance residing over the entire basement.

His head snaps to face your own, eyes plagued with the same blank, predatory look as before.

“Mate.” Deep, harsh, scratchy. His voice makes you feel like he’s going to devour you whole. Like he is the monster waiting in the deepest recesses of your nightmares when that couldn’t be farther from the truth. When in reality he is the very being your soul yearns for stronger than any other.

The revelation, the– everything leaves you overwhelmed. Emotions strung up for the stars, casting aside any comets that tried to hurdle towards the perfect glass encasing this moment. This eternity you wish to live in forever as you finally understand that he wants you just as much as you want him.

You can’t help but grab his cheeks– ignore how venomous he looks, and press your lips against his own. Can’t help the explosion behind your eyelids, the sparks that travel across your skins in euphoric waves. The way your heart swells like a balloon, racing in your chest so fast you fear you may die.

Every emotion you’ve felt that day, every nagging, creeping sensation finding its way into the back of your skull vanishes in an instant. No going back. No orchestra or chorus reprise. No thoughts of not being his mate. You are his mate.

Only him.

Only Jimin.

He doesn’t part with you, not for a second. Not when he finally has you against him. When you so easily rise into his lap. When his natural instincts finally stop screaming at him and take over completely. Kiss you with everything he’s worth. Devour you whole.

His hands find purchase on your hips, blunt nails digging into the skin. Mocking him for not doing this in the closet with you all those months ago. Allowing him to truly understand how good it would’ve felt then. How good it will feel every second that follows.

He thinks you have to be the prettiest thing in the world.

His spider thinks that you need to be bred full of his spiderlings. Fucked so hard that you wont be able to walk– wont be able to leave his nest. That he’ll be able to tie you up nice and pretty, stuff you with his cum over and over again until you’d never even think about leaving.

His spider is winning.

“Min…” Your voice is breathless, trying to keep up with the flurry of kisses he presses against your lips, your face– anywhere he can reach. It’s like he’s addicted to the feeling, like he’s making up for lost time.

“Min, I love you.” And just like that, any sanity he has left vanishes.

His spider has won.

Without a second thought you’re lifted from your place on his lap, thrown carelessly into his nest. His nest where you will stay. His nest where he’ll keep you. All thoughts vanished from that pretty little head of yours. Just like it should be.

His hands find the back of his collar, shirt discarded without a second thought on the floor. He doesn’t need it anymore. Not when he has you. When he wants to feel you fully.

You can only stare– fawn at his tan skin. The gentle muscles on display for you. For your eyes only while he crawls towards you. Stalks you just like they might a pretty little butterfly caught in their web. Wrapped in webs and killed without a second thought.

His lips find yours once again. Slotting together, filling the other to make them whole. Dazed in lust and passion, neither soul hoping there would ever be a way out for the other.

Well, there won’t be for you. But that’s okay. You’ll love it. Love every second of it.

He knows it as his fingers dance against your skin. Sliding beneath the hem of your shirt, running with skilled ease up your sides. The chill that racks through your body is evidence enough. The way you so easily allow him to draw your shirt over your head solidifies it. Your shorts follow, making it set in stone.

Your breath comes out in short pants, every slight touch, every little movement sends fire burning through your skin. Igniting you, setting your core ablaze with heat that only he can extinguish.

Fingers gently sliding over your ribs, thumbs coming just blow your breasts to rub circles into the skin while his fangs nip gently into your lower lip. He can’t bite you now. No, after he mates you he can bite you all he wants.

He groans at the thought, hips rocking themselves against your clothed cunt. Allowing you to feel all of him– the press of his cock, the motion of his need allowing you to fall higher and higher into a heaven you did not think possible.

You whine at him to do something, anything. Too impatient to wait any longer. Too impatient to live a second more without something, anything buried inside of you.

His smile is sick, twisted as he reclines back on his heels. Allows himself to get a good look at you.

“Shh, Shh…” His hand cups your cheek, smoothing his thumb against your lips. Pressing it inside with more ease than before. More compliance than before. There’s a good little girl.

“Poor thing is having a hard time, huh?” He mocks gently, hips pressed firm against your own allowing you to feel every inch of him, “Pretty lips all swollen, pussy a little mess from just kissing… mm mm…”

He groans, hand slipping between your legs. What he finds is no more than a mess of a girl. Hips bucking upwards. Slick dripping from your center, panties coated in arousal. Puffy little clit begging for any attention he’s willing to give it.

Without any hesitation his thumb finds your clit, pressing against it without any thought of reprieve. Without any thought to give you any of the relief you crave. You’ve made him wait this long, you can wait a second, no?

He groans high as you buck against his hand, mewl leaving your lips as some sort of plea. Ah~ how cute. Such a little thing so desperate for something, anything that you’re willing to give up your very head in return? How cute! How adorable!

His spider preens. Is almost so belated he doesn’t notice the hands that come down to grip his wrist. Hold him in place all so you can circle your hips against his thumb. Rub adorable little rings into your clit without any help from him. Use him to make yourself feel good.

A coo leaves his lips. Who is he to deny such a pretty little human?

“Ah pretty baby wants to feel good, does she?” He almost giggles at how pathetic you look. How adorably you cling to him. How hard you try.

His arm is ripped from your grasp, pulling back from the very place you desire him most. Where your arousal soaks the cotton of cotton, so palpable he can practically taste it in the air.

“It’s okay baby…” He sees the annoyance in your face, the battiness you hold in your heart coming to light. Excited to tame it. Excited to quell the pretty little devil in his web.

Tie you up. Breed full.

Breed you.

His fingers work fast. Arms are pulled over your head, silks quickly pinning them to the surface. Strings wrapping and wrapping until he’s sure you’re secure. Sure you can’t move.

His hips gently rock against your own, clothes cock pressing against your core. Watching as your hips buck, as you try to urge him closer with a pathetic whine.

See exactly how you struggle against the strings.

Perfect, perfect girl. How did he get so lucky, huh? Can never be sure.

You’re unable to stop the cry that leaves your throat as his hands pull your panties aside, finger thrusting into your wet heat. Filling you up, making you feel a little more whole.

“Min~” The moan of his name is shaky. Every sense you have in overdrive as he works his finger against your walls. Every push inside deeper, harder. Curling against your walls in the exact way you craved.

Pleasure coils in your stomach faster than you thought possible. A second finger joining the first, pumping in and out as he prepares you for his cock. Prepared you to take all of him and nothing less.

He knows you can do it. You can, can’t you?

“Mhmm baby, I know… head a little clearer now, huh?” He chuckles, chastising, “Can only think when you’re full. It’s so cute.”

You whimper at his words, head rolling back as the coil pulls tighter and tighter within your gut. Urging you to just let it snap, feel everything you’ve been waiting for.

“F-feels good…” You mutter quietly, unable to see the haze cloud his vision. The way his amused expression drops into that of a wild animal.

Without any warning his fingers pull out of your heat, body leaving your own entirely as he stands. Grabbing your hips, dragging them closer. Flipping your body over. Setting you pretty on your knees, arms uncomfortable crossed in front of you.

He quickly rids himself of his pants, allowing his cock to spring free from their confines. Head red and messy as it hits his stomach. Angry at how neglected you’ve left him. How desperately he wants this.

You have no way of preparing yourself for the drag of his cock through your lips. The gentle nudge against your clit. Thick head dragging through your folds, spreading your arousal. Mixing it with his pre-cum.

Making you messy. Making you dirty just for him. Making you belong to him.

“Gonna fill my mate.” All humour is gone from the man behind you, as if he is someone else entirely. It’s really too bad your head has a few too many screws loose to care. Care about anything other than the way his firm head presses against your hole. The way his blunt nails dig into your flesh.

“Gonna breed her. Mate her. Make her mine.” It’s almost as if his word is a command. The very sentences he utters become law.

You can only nod your head. Give yourself to the very man that fate led you to all those months ago. “Want~”

The thrust of his hips into your walls is almost too much to bear. A cry leaving your lips as he fucks himself inside in a single thrust. Forcing you to take him to the hilt, to feel all of him stretch your walls. No break. No waiting around.

You’ve both done enough waiting.

It hurts— the burn, as he stretches you full. Presses his cock against your walls making sure your cunt remembers no one but him.

The way he gives no reprieve, fucking into you like an animal starved. Pulling back until only the tip remains inside before fucking himself fully inside once more.

“Min!” You cry, waves of pain and pleasure boiling all the same within your bones. All the same inside of your blurred head, nothing but static and thoughts of him behind the line of your eyes. Slipping off into space as you let cunt clenched pathetically around his cock.

“Good mate, taking me so well. Such a good human.” He groans, hips pulling back and thrusting into you over and over again. Making you fall apart with his pace. Pumping his cock into your pathetic little hole fast and hard. Ruining you for any other man.

Making sure he will be the only one you allow to enter heaven.

Your moans come out wanton, pleaing. Hips start to move back against him, trying to keep up with his pace despite the burn you begin to feel in your tied arms. Desperate to let him know just how good he’s filling you. Just how good he’s making you feel.

“My mate.” His pants come out harsh, breath on your neck as he hovers close. The sound of skin and against skin is the only thing you’re able to hear. The pressure of Jimin’s lips against your neck makes you feel like you’re about to go insane.

He’s desperate to make you fall apart on his cock alone. Pleasure building and building, the coil tight. Ready to snap at any moment. Ready to fall apart at his command.

“Gonna make you mine forever pretty.” His voice is featherlight once more. The switches have you reeling, your brain spinning. “Want that, don’t you? For me to bite you? Mark you up? Breed you full of my spiderlings? Ruin that pretty little head for anything else.”

He sighs, nails digging into your hips where they’re sure to leave bruises. You nod your head in agreement, moans spilling past your lips as his hips change their angle. His cock hitting the spot that leaves you seeing stars on every thrust.

“Say the word and you’re mine.” You feel his fangs against your skin. The harsh drag across your delicate skin. “Forever.”

You can’t take it anymore, pleasure burning through you. Blinding you. Unable to think about anything else other than the rough thrusts of his cock against your walls.

“Please.” It’s no more than a whimper, but he swears it’s the loudest thing he’s ever heard.

His teeth clamp into your flesh— the final thing needed to push you over the edge into bliss. Your body stutters, walls a vice around his cock as the coil finally snaps. Heat flowing through every cell you possess. The only thing in your soul is Jimin.

Your back arches, eyes dotting with black as you allow it to overtake you. Jimin rocking you against him, groaning as he fills you with his cum, painting your walls white. Allowing you to ride out your high with him. Finally allowing the rut to rid his brain for only a moment.

He slowly pulls out of you, panting. Quickly moving to cover your center back up with your underwear. Make sure all of his cum stays tucked away in your pretty little pussy to get you nice and pregnant.

You can only whimper, body twitching at every movement he makes. Worn down your bones— energy sucked so dry you can’t even feel the throb of your neck. Don’t even notice the blood that drips from where he marked you— claimed you in the way only a hybrid can.

All you're sure of is the need to be close to him. Need to feel him.

Is this what he had been feeling all along? Marks were known to do that, to allow you to feel what your mate does. If he had to endure what you’re feeling right now, it had to have been hell for him.

“Min…” you calm his name. Pull him from where he stares between your legs. Where his fingers rub circles into the surface of your underwear, spreading any cum that leaks from your twitching hole.

Within a second he’s at attention, staring at you with all of the love in the world. You’re not sure how you missed it before. How you could have deluded yourself into believing any less.

He pouts as you wiggle at your restraints, silk holding your arms in place all this time. He gently shakes his head, slowly flipping your body back over onto its back. Crawling over you to look at your face properly. Take in your fucked out expression. Ruined his pretty little human. Made her perfect.

“Don’t want to.” His lower lip juts out at you, eyes wide just like a begging dog. “Look pretty tied up in my web. Should stay like this. Forever.”

“I don’t think my job would like that very much.” You giggle, lip pouting out to match his own. He leans down, quickly capturing your mouth in a quick kiss.

Something hard pressed against your leg once more. His hand comes down to guide it against your heat. Rub against you despite the oversensitivity and cum leaking from your hole.

“Then we move to the woods together… I’ll hunt for us…” He grumbles, pushing your underwear to the side once more. Collecting any cum that has spilled out with his cock, gently fucking it back into your cunt with the head.

A whine rips from your lips due to oversensitivity. Pussy sore, aching from what he just put you though. What you aptly begged for. Yet you can’t deny him. Don’t want to deny him with how good it feels to be filled. How addicted you’ve become. Cock drunk.

“Wh-what?” You try to breathe, walls fluttering around his length as he slowly thrusts back inside. Filling you to the brim once again. “W-we can’t do that, Minnie…”

His thrusts are slow, languid. Almost like he’s making love. Treating you with utmost care despite how wrecked your entire frame is.

He is entirely unaffected. His rut leaves him wanting for more and more until you have nothing left to give. Face twisting into confusion at your words.

“Why can’t we? Make you up a nice pretty web… keep you full all the time” He hums against your neck, gently licking at his mark, “treat you like a real good mate, yeah? Fill you up over and over. Will look so pretty with my spiderlings.”

He moans the words, hips speeding up ever so slightly at the thought. It dawns on you that this must be his rut talking. Filling his head with nonsense he knows can’t come true. In a few days when he wakes up from it, he’ll probably pretend he never said anything about taking you to the woods. Keeping you there.

No harm in agreeing, is there? Especially when he makes you feel so good. So happy and full. When it makes him feel just as good. When your head starts to feel fuzzy, the exhaustion weighs heavily on your consciousness. You’re on birth control anyway, it's fine.

“Mmhmm… sounds nice..” You moan quietly, already feeling your second orgasm approaching. Allowing yourself to become lost in the same dream as him. Allowing yourself to fall victim to pretty words and false promises. Ones that he intends to make true.

“Gonna take such good care of my mate.” He groans, face buried in your neck. He feels your walls clamp around him, pulling him in over and over again. Cunt never wanting him to leave.

His hand draws between your thighs, fingers rubbing quick circles into your clit. Neither of you are going to last long. Both too sensitive to do anything but fall into the pleasure of each other.

Pussy fluttering against his cock, head rolling back as your high runs through you once more. White clouding your vision, ears ringing as you are overcome with fire. Drowning in the feeling of his cock fucking you full of his cum once again.

He lets out a harsh groan as he fills you. Breeds you just like a good spider would. Makes you feel complete as he helps you through both of your highs.

Your eyes feel heavy— too heavy to stay open even a second longer. Too tired to stay awake as he pulls your underwear back over your center. As he pulls your body close to his own.

He doesn’t blame you, never could. It must be hard having to keep up with a hybrid during their rut. But he knows you can do it. Knows you’ll do it for him. Especially with the promises you made. The ones you made only to him.

The last words you hear before falling under the veil of consciousness is a simple declaration. One you’ve waited months to hear.

“I love you.”

“Y/n! Hurry up!”

The whine of Jimin’s voice is louder than any car, highway, hell— aeroplane you’ve ever heard, you’re sure of it. The grip of his hand around your own is like iron, tugging you along the worn trail path, trying to urge you faster than your feet will allow.

“I’m going! I’m goin!” You chide with him, giggle leaving your lips at his hurried nature. You don’t think you’ve ever seen the spider more excited. Maybe even more so than when he strokes the bite mark scarred into your shoulder– your permanent reminder that you are his and he is yours.

“Not fast enough!” He groans, head rolling back in annoyance, “The best spot is going to get taken!”

He’s told you about this spot time and time again– excitement palpable with every mention. A beautiful clearing back at the reserve, one that the trees shine perfectly through. The best spot for basking in the whole park, as well as for begging humans for snacks.

You smile at the thought. Following as close behind him as your feet will manage. Blanket and bags of food tight in your grip. After months of paperwork, he can finally return to this place without fear they’ll take you away from him. The mate licence in your wallet proof enough of it.

He finally gets to take you to the reserve– the place he called home for so long before he met you. The place where he first learned how to be a proper spider. The first place he learned to make friends. He’s most excited about the latter part, getting to show off his shiny new mate to all of his friends. The one he caught the human way.

He’s been talking about it for days, since you first brought up the idea of visiting. Of wanting to see where he lived before he met you. Prattling on and on about everything he’s going to show you, how he’s going to introduce you to Jungkook if he can. About the waterfall over the cove that you two can swim in without anyone finding out.

All of it is a dream come true for your little spider. Your mate.

You smile at the thought– how excited he is as he helps you set up the blanket on the ground. As he helps spread food all around you. Body jittery, head twitching at every little sound.

It’s clear he’s going a little crazy with joy. Entirely ecstatic to have you here with him. Sitting across from him on the ground in a way that almost mocks the picnic you had in his basement that night months ago.

Ah, sorry. Nuptial gift ceremony. He liked it a lot better when you called it that.

“Oh! And then, after we eat, I can introduce you to the head of the park! She’s Namjoon’s mate, but she doesn’t know it yet.” He talks to himself, chatting idly about nothing as he presses another strawberry to your lips. You eagerly take it, biting down on the fruit without a second thought.

You cover your mouth with your hand as you speak, “Really? It must be difficult to confess to her, then.”

He nods his head, overexcited as he looks past you into the trees. Nose twitching as he tries to pick up a scent. Yellow tinted sunglasses high on his nose to block any light from hurting his delicate pupils.

You can’t help but think about how beautiful he is. How lucky you are to have him.

His hair has grown out since that fateful day months ago, blonde replaced by a deep blue that puts the night sky to shame. How his frame has bulked out ever so slightly. Pretty tan skin looking more healthy than ever. His head off in the clouds, trying to ground himself so he doesn’t pick you up and drag you off into the woods.

The human way is never easy for him.

“Mhmm… he’s trying but he isn’t very good at it. Doesn’t understand how humans like it to be done…” He mumbles.

“Hybrid’s do it different?”

“Yeah,” He seems a little lost in space, nose twitching harsher as he tries to recognise the exact scent he knows will be coming soon. Jungkook can never hold himself back from a picnic, no matter how far. He just wishes his nose was stronger.

“Hybrids just take their mate right away. Prove they’re a good mate and then it’s done. But human’s you have to teach.” Your shoulders drop slightly, and maybe if it wasn’t for the love you felt for him or the mate mark pressing against your neck, you would have understood the severity of his words. Of teaching a human, tricking them into making them fall.

“Oh…” You pout, head coming down to rest against his shoulder. None the wiser to the meaning behind his words, “I’m sorry… it must’ve been hard for you.”

He only shakes his head, “It’s okay. I just didn’t want you to ever be scared.”

Suddenly, Jimin is standing. Eyes darting across the underbrush that surrounds the treeline. You follow his vision, squinting slightly to try and make out exactly what he is looking at when two antennae pop over the other side of a bush. Twitching, pointing in your direction. Hunting down food as they move closer.

The insect moves close, tilting his head as he finally moves within your line of vision. Mop of brown floppy hair on his head, wide bunny eyes. Twitching nose all the same. If it wasn’t for the lack of ears and black antennae jolting from his head, you would’ve thought he was a rodent.

“Kook!” Jimin’s voice is loud as he quickly run’s to meet the boy. The other looks just as excited, eyes lighting up with stars as his legs take off in the same direction. The two fall into a puddle of laughter and play fighting as they fall to the ground in greeting.

The infamous Jungkook, an ant hybrid– the biggest ant hybrid you’ve seen, mind you. Jimin’s best friend is finally revealed. And you have to say, seeing them together. Watching as your mate attempts to playfully tie him up silks has to be the prettiest sight you’ve ever laid eyes on.

“Oh my god, Min!” You laugh as Jimin struggles, the giant ant hybrid easily breaking free from the others strings. Instantly the attention is on you. Jimin leaning back to his heels, head thrown back as he whines.

“Shut up! He’s gotten stronger! My webs hold you good enough!” You continue to laugh, unaware of the ant sneaking closer. His antenna tickling your shoulder as he stares at the food in front of you. Begging for just a little taste to bring home to his colony, a little bit to make the queen happy.

You happily oblige, making room for the two of them to join you once again after their little scuffle. A reunion too cute to not try and remember forever. And just like that, conversation begins to flow easily between the three of you. Almost as if Jimin never left in the first place.

The two of them spend all afternoon catching up– Jimin reciting the story of how you two met, Jungkook opening up about the cute human that’s started to come by the park every saturday. Pulling his antennae down as he speaks, clearly embarrassed. Telling you all about how they met, about the reserve.

“Ah~ don’t mind him. Kookie’s just embarrassed cause he doesn’t know how to talk to girls.” Jimin teases, leaning over to ruffle Jungkook’s hair. His arm tightly wrapped around your frame, holding you close. “Not every day that an ant hybrid has a mate outside of their colony, you know?”

“Hyung! Shut up!” He quickly whines, eyes shooting a subtle glare towards the other. Legs kicking slightly underneath his frame. “You… know what it means… especially cause she’s human…”

“I know.” His fangs shimmer as his hand reaches out to ruffle his hair, “Don’t worry. She’ll wanna be your queen in no time.”

You nod your head in agreement, picking up another piece of fruit and popping it into your mouth. Nothing much to add to the conversation– you’ll never really understand the intricacy of hybrids and how they work. Especially those like Jungkook and Jimin.

Yet, you can’t help but feel at peace with that. At peace with them and this moment. Content with your life, content with your mate and the life you’ve built together. You hope that Jungkook can do the same with his own someday. Build a nice little colony or whatever it is that ants do.

“Mhmm, anyone would want someone as cute as you.” You smile, watching as the ant’s eyes go wide. Blush covering his cheek as he tries to pull his antenna down to cover them. Jimin instantly pounces on the other, starting a new round of play fighting. Laughing about having to defend his mates honour. That she isn’t allowed to look at any other hybrid. No one but him.

You giggle along with them, leaning back from your spot. Taking a mental picture of the scene in front of you. Jimin happy, playing. The sunset over the horizon as the three of you laugh in the woods. As Jimin no longer looks anything like that spider all those months ago.

And maybe he’s right. Maybe you did fall into his trap lined with silk. But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Even when you wake up in the middle of the woods. When you wake up in a cabin decorated in pretty webbing. When you come to find society is far behind you. When you discover no one else other than Jimin telling you that this is exactly what you asked for.

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

⋆𐙚 if you enjoyed this fic, please consider buying me a kofi!

© all rights reserved to ctrlhope 2019-2024 ; do not copy, plagiarise, or translate.

[skele-ghost]

Fuck in the Graveyard (not really)

Summary: (Graves/Reader) You’ve been taking illegal suppressants for wayyy too long, and when you miss a dose, it all comes crashing down.

Content Warning: A/B/O Omegaverse dynamics, reader is afab, female pronouns?, substance abuse, technically is a fuck or die situation, p in v, knotting, brief fingering

Graves is kinda sweet in this one. I’ve never posted my stuff anywhere before and this is the first fic I’ve written in second person. Let me know what y’all think. I do not take requests.

(*˘︶˘*).｡.:*♡

The thing about taking illegal suppressants is that you have to time them perfectly. You’d better have your cycle down to a science, and you’d better take them three days before your heat, during, and three days after—and don’t you dare take them any more than 24 hours apart.

That’s how you wound up completely fucked: you took one dose two hours too late, and now the suppressants were completely ineffective. Was it really your fault? No, you’d been in the middle of a firefight, for fucks sake! But by some sick case of luck and science that made next to no sense, your heat started to build.

You hid being an Omega as much as you could. It wasn’t exactly a secret—it was there in your file for anyone to see. But so long as your heats were taken care of and you weren’t sending every Alpha within a mile radius into a rut, the military was happy.

And you were happy to let them believe that you were taking the regular course of suppressants that they prescribed you, and not the dangerous, high-dose, illegal ones that you preferred. They made your scent next to undetectable and made sure you could actually think straight when you were suppressing your heat, unlike the regular ones.

You were a specialist, an asset of high importance, and you’d be damned if you’d let your own biology stand in the way of that.

That’s why you liked the Shadows. Graves sent you a job offer after working with you on a mission gone sour in Urzikstan. He admired the way you kept your head cool when the world was falling apart around you. Even when you disclosed your designation, he shrugged it off.

“As long as you can keep your head cool like you did out there, we won’t have any problems,” he’d said.

And you’d kept your promise for nearly two years, now. But that was a long time to go without a heat, and a long time to be surrounded by the heady scent of Alpha unclaimed.

You were ashamed of the way you had to take off earlier. Once everyone was back from the mission, in one piece, settled in, you bolted, feeling the heat and sweat cling to you like a second skin.

It was sheer resolve that allowed you to keep the scent patches on for so long, little bandages clamped over your glands with a strong deodorizer, not letting anything out. You nearly passed out from the intense pain of prying them off your neck and wrists, the scent glands over-sensitive to even a breeze.

You blink away the tears quickly; you have to stay focused. You’ll drive to the safe house and crash there, get something planned. You knew the consequences of completely suppressing your heat for so long with such toxic drugs. Now you had to live with the consequences.

The little white farmhouse is remote, nestled deep in an old growth wood. It was beautiful, living up to the pictures you’d seen when Graves had shown it to you as a precaution. It had been in his family for generations before he fixed it up and decided to turn it into a safe house.

You pant as you put the car in park, staring at the building for a moment, your thoughts jumbled and disconjointed. As much as you want to melt into the seat, you have to get inside. A cold shower—that’s what you promise yourself, meek little motivation.

It manages to pull you out of the truck, onto shaky legs that want to collapse underneath you, but you push on.

They key is behind a brick on the foundation beneath the porch. It takes you a moment to remember which one—Graves had only shown you once.

Since you are the only unclaimed omega in the Shadows, he told you where the house was and how to access it. Just in case you had, in his words, “omega-related problems.” It isn’t too far from base. You’d have to figure out some way to show your eternal gratitude for the man…if you ever saw him again.

You retrieve the key and turn to make your way up the stairs, and that’s when things go sideways. You trip on the last step, crashing onto the porch with a force that shouldn’t hurt as much as it does.

The key falling out of your hand is the last coherent thought that you have before the pain takes over. Your sensitive skin and muscles cry out and it feels like hitting a sore bruise, everywhere.

You whimper, tears rolling down your cheeks as you stare up at the watery image of the porch’s ceiling. There’s a wasp’s nest, gross, but it’s November. They’re either sleeping or dead from the cold.

And thank god it’s cold, because at least your skin doesn’t feel like it’s completely on fire.

You know this is bad. You’ve deteriorated too quickly, the heat sneaking up and hitting you like a blitz attack from the dark.

As much as you hate to admit it, heats are necessary. It gets rid of built-up chemicals in the brain, provides a release to make new ones. Not quite like sleep was necessary, but in a similar fashion.

You’re worried that this one might kill you. You’re worried that if this one isn’t quelled and satisfied, you might end up brain-dead or in an eternal coma like the people in those stories your middle school health class scared you with.

But in the face of death? All that you wish is that you could apologize for the inconvenience. What kind of paperwork would Graves have to fill out for your corpse? Would he get in trouble for not monitoring you, for not knowing about your use of the illegal suppressants?

You slip into unconsciousness, the word ‘sorry’ on the tip of your tongue.

-

A whimper is all you manage as you stir awake, the first thing you notice being the thick, heavy, intoxicating scent of an Alpha, and one you know.

Graves smells like bonfires and bourbon, or maybe it’s whiskey? You make a breathy moan at the smell, brows furrowing as you feel yourself being carried.

“I know, baby, I know,” he says, his voice making a nice rumble trail down your spine.

He’s holding you bridal style and then holds you close to him as he sits down, tucking your head into his neck so that you can scent him.

It cools the flames slightly, letting your mind clear itself of the fog as you finally stir, opening your eyes.

“Com-mander?” You ask, voice not much louder than a whisper.

He pulls you back, glancing down at you, his blue eyes filled with concern. “(Y/N), what’s going on? You don’t smell right, sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“Suppressants…not working,” you grit out, whimpering as an uncomfortable cramp begins in your gut.

“The ones you’ve been taking? Why, what’s wrong with them?” He lays you down on the bed he’d been sitting on and you whine at the loss of contact, squinting your eyes shut at the cramping.

You can hear him search through your bag, the one that had been digging painfully into your back a few minutes ago, and you hear the rattle of a pill bottle.

“Oh, (Y/N), you didn’t…” he says, and you can only imagine what his expression is as he looks at the bottle. It’s pretty damning—the prescription bottle with someone else’s name blacked out on it, half empty, label reading exactly what’s inside.

Graves returns to your side, his cool hand on your cheek turning you to look up at him. He looks…betrayed? Crestfallen? Worried, above all else, as he holds the bottle up with one hand.

“(Y/N), tell me you didn’t take these—tell me this isn’t what I think it is,” he demands, the command in his tone making a gush of slick escape you, adding to your already soaked panties.

“M’ sorry,” you whisper, tears blurring up along your waterline.

“Shit, (Y/N),” he growls, tossing the pills onto the bed, running his hands through his hair. “What do I do? You need to go to a hospital, is that it?”

You shake your head, “no, they can’t do anything. And I’d get arrested—ah!” You cry out, curling inwards as a sharp, painful cramp rolls through. Slick gushes out of you again, your organs overproducing as if they need to make up for all the missed heats. After a few agonizing moments it calms down and leaves you gasping, tears rolling down your cheeks.

You know what your options are, you know how fucked up this is, and you know that Graves is probably going to fire you after this—but you also know that you’re not ready for the final alternative.

“Please, it hurts!” You beg, pleading up at the sight of your commander above you, “please, Alpha.”

He closes his eyes and clenches his jaw, pursing his lips in that way you’ve always found so hot, “are you sure? You’re not thinking clearly, (Y/N).”

You nod frantically, grabbing his arm and scenting his wrist, keening at the smell, “please, please, Graves.”

His restraint snaps and he climbs ontop of you, pinning your wrists to the bed and placing his mouth on yours. You moan into it, trying to lift you hips up to get some kind of friction to no avail.

He pulls away and you tilt you head aside to give him better access to your neck as he scents you, breathing in deeply and growling. You cry out as he runs his tongue and teeth along the glands.

“I never got a good smell of you, (Y/N), you always wear those damn patches and I always want to rip them off,” he nibbles along your jaw, your whines and whimpers filling the small bedroom.

“Alpha, please,” you beg, desperate, clenching around nothing when you want to be clenching around him. “Inside, please put it inside.”

“I know, baby,” he says, pecking your lips again before he pulls back, hands gliding along your sides as he pulls your shirt off. “You’re burning up.”

Tears prick in the corners of your eyes and you squirm, whining and babbling as he pulls your bra off, too. The cooler air feels nice on your sweat-sheen skin, and you buck your hips as Graves gets off of you, hooking his fingers to pull your pants and panties down in one fell swoop.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he curses, then groans at the sight of your slick, how it clings to your parties in wet strings before he pulls them away.

Your boots are still on and he didn’t get your pants all the way off, but maybe seeing how soaked you are makes Graves hasty.

The most pornographic moan escapes you as he sinks two fingers in your hole, your sweet little cunt sucking them in and clenching down.

“Fuck, good Omega,” Graves groans, slipping in a third finger that has you moaning even louder.

Every spot he hits is the right one, every move pure ecstasy. Your voice is a broken babble of pleads and curses and moans, begging for your commander to fuck you, to take you, to make you his.

You almost sob when he retracts his fingers, not even caring to wipe them as he rolls you onto your stomach, grabbing your hips and pulling them up into the air, right against his own.

Feeling his erection against your ass, you turn downright frantic, “please please please, please fuck me, Alpha, please I need your knot so bad!”

He hisses as you rub against him and he begins unbuckling his belt, which only spurs you on more. He manages to still your hips and get his pants down, rubbing the head of his cock through your slick.

You keen embarrassingly loud as he enters you, slowly letting every inch of himself be swallowed up by your greedy cunt.

When he bottoms out, pressing against your cervix, it’s like a switch flips. You cum, whining as your legs shake, as Graves gasps behind you.

“Goddamn, baby,” he drawls, squeezing into the meat of your hips. “You’re fucking perfect, you know that?”

Your brain is too melted with lust to be able to form any coherent sentence. When he pulls out and slowly thrusts back into you, testing the waters, you all but go limp, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you moan.

“Goooood girl,” he praises, speeding up his thrusts and finding a steady rhythm, your skin slapping together. “So slick and tight for me, omega, good god—“

All you can do is moan and take it. There’s no more painful cramping, and though your skin is still hot it’s not as bad. Your body is getting exactly what it needs: a good, hard fucking by a big, strong Alpha.

“(Y/N),” Graves moans, his voice sounding so sweet to your ears, “so good, baby. Better than I ever imagined.”

You keen at that, at your alpha wanting you—well, he isn’t yours, is he? It makes your heart sting slightly but that’s quickly forgotten with a slap to your ass, sending shockwaves of excitement through you.

You can feel yourself getting tighter, getting ready to be thrown over the edge again, and you can feel Graves speed up his thrusts, his knot slowly beginning to swell inside you.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, “gonna give you my knot, gonna fill you up good—“

His thrusts get even harder, even rougher, and you cry out, feeling yourself come tumbling violently over the edge as his knot catches on you, cumming in waves like the sea crashes onto shore.

Graves stills inside you, making good on his promise, shooting ropes and ropes of hot seed. You can feel his swollen knot inside you, just past your entrance, making your pussy full in the most delicious way. You hear him catch his breath before he carefully rolls you both over onto your sides, laying down with you on the bed.

You hum happily as he wraps his arms around you, placing a chaste kiss on your shoulder as both of your ragged breathing calms.

“Fuck, (Y/N),” he says, his voice husky in a way that makes you wish you were his.

“Yeah,” you manage to reply, running your hands along the arms that hold you.

“I don’t want you taking those damn pills ever again,” he growls, making you shiver. “Understand?”

You open your eyes and turn to look at him, confused at the soft expression on his face. It’s almost…vulnerable? Wasn’t he going to fire you?

“Commander?”

“This isn’t up for debate,” he says. Behind his blue eyes is a fire you know well, akin to the one that dances in his eyes on the battlefield. “I’ll drug test you if I have to, but I’m not going to lose you to some stupid suppressants.”

You blink. “You’re not going to fire me?”

“What? No,” he says like you’re crazy for thinking so. “But if you want to stay, darlin,’ we’re going to need to set some ground rules.”

“Okay,” you agree, relieved. You didn’t want to lose your job, it’s a good gig. The employee benefits are killer…and you’d miss your commander.

“It’s simple, (Y/N), no more illegal suppressants, and you come to me for your heats,” that bastard smirk of his returns and you giggle.

“Are you propositioning me, Commander?”

“Hell, yes I am,” he says proudly, reaching up to caress your cheek. “Probably should’ve done it sooner.”

You lean in and kiss him, enjoying how it sweetens his scent. Your heart flutters in place, content, elated; you had only ever dreamed of this. You finally have him.

“Oh, and no more scent patches. You smell too damn good to be covered up.”

You roll your eyes at him, still grinning. “You sure about that? I don’t think you’ll like every other alpha sniffing after me.”

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll keep you safe,” he says confidently, placing a lingering kiss to your cheek. His eyes hint at something darker, “besides… they’ll catch on.”

[garoujo]

・✶ ｡ﾟtighnari is so glad he’s got you to help him through his heat cycle.

♱ warnings — somnophilia, f!reader, heat cycle mentioned, pussy jobs, previous consent mentioned, he’s a little teasing ? maybe ?

♱ note — more kinktober for u . i love him sm so i couldn’t not include him ofc <3 also i’ve never written heat cycles or anything b4 so sorry if anything is like not accurate idk !

RETURN TO KINKTOBER MLIST ♱ REGULAR MLIST

“gah.. it hurts.” tighnari grunts from the doorway, his footsteps feel heavy — he should’ve never agreed to patrol when the desire was already so thick in his cock. he was barely able to focus on anything else except the urge to cum, to rid himself of the ache that’s been pulsing through his body for the past few days.

it’s almost instinctive, like feral instinct the way his body carries him deeper into the tent when he gets his first glimpse of you on his bed — his ears twitching at the sight as a shudder rocks through his tail.

your figure is only slightly visible from the moonlight through the crack in the door, and tighnari feels his mouth run dry when you make a sweet noise in your sleep and it makes his cock twitch behind the confines of his uniform at the sound.

he’d already tried to relieve himself while he was out, fucking his fist in a secluded area just to try and rid himself of the heaviness he felt, but it didn’t work — it wasn’t you.

you knew how much tighnari’s heat seemed to affect him, promising him he was always able to use you to rid himself of the pain if he needed to — no matter what you were doing, you would help.

and he needs you now.

“it feels so heavy.. ugh. i wonder how much you can take.. hmm, let’s test that, shall we?” you were always so pretty, even nuzzled into his pillow in the dimly lit tent you were still beautiful, making his cock throb and leak behind his uniform so carnally as desire twists in his stomach at the sight.

but tighnari’s too pent up, hes too desperate when he’s haphazardly shoving his pants down around his thighs — climbing onto the mattress to loom over you before he’s turning you onto your back with a needy groan.

“i’m sorry.. it’s so hot.” the sight of your body so soft and pliant underneath him forces him to squeeze his eyes closed when his cock throbs painfully against his thigh, pre-cum smearing along your skin when he cages you beneath him.

tighnari’s already panting by the time he’s lined his throbbing cock up with your cunt, not enough time to pull your panties to the side — he’s too bothered by the latent heat under his clothes and the weight in his balls. “o-oh, my.”

the first grind of his hips into yours is eager, messy as he lets his head rest in the crook of your neck — one of his arms hooking around your middle to keep you pressed beneath him while he humps himself against your clothed pussy like a wild fucking animal.

he’s got your thighs spread so wide around him that it’s easy for him to swirl and rub the shaft of his cock along your folds. even in your sleep, you’re unbearably cute as you gasp and twitch at every eager rut of tighnari’s hips and he’s pretty sure if anyone were to walk past they’d know exactly what is going on — especially with how shamelessly he’s grunting and whimpering into your skin.

every back and forth rock of his hips feels like it steals the oxygen from his lungs, he’s already sweating and fucked out as his tail swishes wildly behind him — ears twitching along with the throb in his cock and it really is like his original instincts have taken over.

“you’re going to make me feel s-so good, sweetheart.” tighnari stutters, spreading your thighs wider as the blunt head of his cock catches under the hood of your clit, making your lips part to gasp as you begin to wake beneath him.

“‘nari?” you even sound so fucking cute when your sleepy gaze is blinking up at him, still a little confused but he’s pressing so deep into you until you’re wound around him and you still try to meet his movements once you realise what’s happening.

you’re clutching him so close, letting your fingers trace up tighnari’s hair to scratch at his ears and you watch the way his tail shudders at the sensation, making him push down eagerly on the damp spot you’ve both created along your panties before he whines, long and broken.

you’re whimpering at his movements as you meet him with needy little humps, feeling him mouth along your neck between carnal nipples of your flesh as he grits his teeth. “oh, im sorry. but—you looked so cute, i couldn’t help myself.” his voice wobbles through his frenzied need, breathing heavy against your skin as he tugs you into his restless movements.

you feel the first shiver and grind of his hips stutter before he’s cumming with a startled moan of your name, cumming thick and heavy along your panties and abdomen as his tail stiffens and shakes. tighnari’s cock is glistening with slick and cum, squelching lewdly as you hook your legs around hips and let him ride out his orgasm before he stills for a few seconds to catch his breath.

but you’re almost startled when his movements cease and he pulls back to look at you, gaze still blown and wild as he looks over you. “you okay?” you feel his fingers tuck underneath the fabric of your ruined panties and pull them to the side.

“oh yes, sweetheart. we’ve already made such a mess but won’t you let me fill you up? i’ve barely started. i know you can take it.” he grunts with a few touches along your thighs. you’re a mess beneath him, you’ve not cum yet and every graze of his fingers along your skin only feels like it burns you in the best way, feeling tighnari line his cock up when a quiet little yes falls so sultry-like from your lips.

it’s almost mean the way he sinks his cock into you, you’re barely prepped but his cum almost works as lube and the saccharine squeeze of your walls around him already feels like fucking heaven. he can’t stop himself, pressing his weight against your hips like he’s burying you beneath him, digging his cock into your cunt like it’s his lifeline as you grab at his shoulders.

“slow down, ‘nari. it’s so much.”

“oh? but it’s not enough, i still have so much cum for you. you have to try harder than that to tire me out.”

© 2022 garoujo. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

[sukiipjs]

✮ BLONDIE : PT 2

°:. *₊ ° . ☆ °:. *₊ ° . ° .•

↳ nick sturniolo x masc reader

↳ words - 1961

↳ summary - you’ve been having a hard time realizing and accepting the fact that you’re gay, and in love with your best friend. you try to ignore the feelings but that only makes everything worse until you can’t hide it anymore.

↳ contains - swearing, use of y/n, angst, crying, verbal fighting, idrk 😭 [READ PT 1 - PT 3]

↳ song - blondie by current joys

°:. *₊ ° . ☆ °:. *₊ ° . ° .•

°:. *₊ ° . ☆

days after and nick hasn’t texted me since. no more random tiktok’s, no more check ins, just complete nothingness now. i don’t blame him of course, i’d do the same if he was being as shitty as me right now. but honestly i miss those texts so so much, even if i rarely responded to him, or more so i miss the texts we had before all this stupid shit started.

but again, i truly don’t even know when it all started, it was so easy to just brush this off these feelings and whatever as a friend thing before and not think of it too much. why can’t it just be a friend thing now?

actually i think ive just accepted it all at this point though. i love him and no it’s not just a friend thing, it’s way more and it always has been way more. sure i might wish it wasn’t, but it is and i know it is and i cant just ignore it.

i’m not even trying to get rid of it anymore, i don’t have the strength for hiding it. honestly i think if i kept trying to get rid of it, it wouldn’t even work. obviously i still won’t tell him, or anyone, unless he pries it out of me. i know he doesn’t feel the same and i doubt he even looks at me as a friend anymore.

☆ °:. *₊ ° . °

i continue repeating my own sad cycle of doing nothing but staying in bed, hiding myself from the world… without nick. i still check up on his socials, being the weird stalker that i am and looking at all the story’s and snapchats he posted of himself, he looks just fine without me, of course.

i lay in bed, staring at my phone to avoid looking at the mess around my room. i scroll and scroll, starting to see a weird amount of videos of people taking care of themselves or videos of people ‘spring cleaning’.

i scroll away, i really don’t need to see people functioning completely fine right now, it’s like their taunting me, laughing at me. but the videos just keep coming back, haunting me, laughing at me. all i see through my scrolling cycle is random ass dog videos, cleaning and organizing videos, or nick edits… and that’s exactly what i need.

i let out a loud sigh, slightly rolling my eyes then rolling over to my other side, having my blanket wrap around me. i choose to just swipe off the app and throw my phone to the side of me before closing my eyes and just trying to get some sleep. that way those videos, my stupid feelings, and not even nick can haunt my mind anymore.

°:. *₊ ° . ☆

my eyes flicker open, the sun shining directly in my face and i finally decide to actually do something good for myself and go out for a walk when the sun and clear weather is still out, it’s been raining almost the whole time i’ve seen dying in my room alone.

i slowly move myself up to sit, leaning my back on the wooden headboard behind me and sitting on some pillows below that cushion me. i stretch out my arms in front of me, yawning and running my fingers through my hair to fix the shaggy mess.

i move myself off my bed, stand up then fixing my off center shirt and trying to flatten out a few wrinkles. i throw the blanket that covered me to the side and decide to just throw the shirt and pants that i wear off me -actually putting them somewhere other than on the floor too- i pick out a clean outfit, already feeling way less gross, it’s the small things that count right.

i walk out my room, not forgetting to grab my phone to come with me before going into my bathroom, splashing my face with water to get me more awake. i run my hands in my hair again, fixing it up with my mirror in front of me so i can actually see what i’m doing before grabbing some actual water giving myself something to drink other than dr pepper.

finally i walk out to go by my door, grabbing a light jacket and pulling it over my arms then putting on my shoes and heading out the door. i start off to go a longer way, turning the corner of the sidewalk. i feel all the small breezes on my skin as i get actual sun and nature.

i continue walking random ways, i just want to be out of the mess that i’ve been living in for so long right now. it actually feels nice to be outside, not sitting in a gross hole of dirty clothes and dishes.

☆ °:. *₊ ° . °

i walk, making my way around the neighborhood, my eye catching all the small colorful flowers blooming up and all the small brown squirrels scurrying to run up trees as i pass them. i remember all the times me and nick went out, running around the streets when we were younger. not thinking of anything, just being kids living a simple life. i wish it was still that simple.

as i walk, still obviously thinking of nick, i notice the sky above graying and clouds starting to cover up the sun, shit. i start to walk a little faster, hopefully being able to get home before it pours but as soon as i speed up, small water drops start to fall on me.

i grab the end of my jacket to pull it over my head, holding it over me to shield out the rain. the sides of my jacket block my view as i focus on the path i walk to my place.

i look down at my feet walking, trying not to get too wet as the rain pours more and more, bouncing off the sidewalk. suddenly i feel two hands place on me, pushing me back, “the fuck.” i mutter as i look up, gaining my balance on my feet again. “oh” my face softens as i see nick standing in front of me, his blonde hair damp and drops of water falling from his cheek. he stares at me, i can tell he’s mad and obviously i can tell it’s my doing.

“nick-“ he cuts me off quickly, slightly pushing against my shoulders again as i put my jacket down, wearing it normally, my head now getting pelted with rain. “no, i talk. what the fuck y/n. honestly what has been going gone, you’ve completely ignored me for weeks, you keep blowing me off and i don’t fucking know what i did and the only way i can talk to you about this is randomly bumping into you since you won’t even answer my texts?”

“nick-“ i sigh as i try speaking again but he pushes me back once more. his glassy eyes narrow and i see water pooling in them, i can’t tell if it’s rain or tears. “no! you’re my- you’re supposed to be my best friend and this shit isn’t cutting it y/n! just what is it! what is it. what did i do please just talk to me. if you hate me or something just tell me!” he shouts, his fists starting to clench as i wipe the wet hair in my face away.

“nick stop. you- you didn’t do anything i promise, i’m sorry okay” my voice croaks, i can feel the water pooling in my own eyes now. “then what is it! you can’t just block me out, out of no where.” i shake my head, trying to figure out how to say an actual explanation without saying too much. “nick i’m sorry!”

“stop apologizing! i’m not asking for that, i’m asking for an answer, please. i feel like shit and you haven’t even been there, i kept trying to talk and hang out with you but apparently you hate me now and never want to see me again, i get it!” he scoffs, staring me down as his eyes shut, tears dropping as he takes a breath before opening his eyes back up, wiping off the mixture of tears and rain.

“like i said, if you hate me or suddenly don’t want to be my friend, tell me. i truly, truly, don’t understand this shit your pulling and if you won’t talk now then when will we? you’ll just ignore me again so just spit it out now!” nick keeps rambling on and i just stare at him, seeing how hurt i’ve actually made him. i don’t know what to say, i really don’t.

i just want to shut him up, have him realize that it’s my fault and i don’t hate him. i cut him off as he continues to yell at me, “nick!” my voice feels weak as he shouts back, “what!” i stare at him for a moment, seeing those blue eyes i miss, those star earrings, his grown out roots and before i know it my hands go up to his face, pulling him in as our lips press together.

my hands hold him as strands of his hair poke my fingers, our noses slightly brushing against each others. i quickly step back, eyes wide as i realize what i just did, taking my hands back. “i-im sorry“ my breath is short before i turn around, running away from him to get back to the shit hole of comfort i’m living in to avoid what i just confessed.

i swear i hear him try to call my name but i ignore it, i can’t see him. what did i just do. i can’t even process any of this.

°:. *₊ ° . ☆

i finally reach my place again and i swiftly open my door and walk inside, standing as raindrops slide off of me, creating a small puddle on the floor below. i shake off my hair a little, flicking the water droplets off of me. i take off my jacket, putting it on a hook to let it dry as i take off my shoes too, leaving them by the door.

i wipe my face off with the palms of my hands, wiping off many of my tears that still fall. i walk over to my fridge, getting out another dr pepper then walking over to my couch, slumping down into it as i set my can down and wrap a blanket around myself to warm me up again.

i slowly slide to the side, laying myself down on the cushions. why the actual fuck would i kiss him? what that really the best thing i could do? he already hated me, i did not have to make it worse. i ponder in my head, genuinely trying to find a valid reason of why i just kissed my best friend that hates me. oh. my. god. i’ve ruined my life -not like it was already ruined- i’m never coming back from this.

i stare at the unopened dr pepper sitting on my coffee table, i try making myself reach for it but my arms don’t want to leave the warmth of the blanket i’m huddled in. i hear my phone buzz next to the dr pepper on, i also cannot seem to have my arm reach out to see who’s calling, i hope it’s not who i think but why would he even call me?

rain pelts out on my window, water sliding down the cold glass of it as i lay holding my blanket close to me, pulling the blanket over my eyes as they close, resting as i try forget about my phone continuously buzzing and the drink still on my table.

☆ °:. *₊ ° . °

taglist : @slutforchriss @mattsleftnipple03 @mattsdinosweater @ccolleenn @mixvchelle @leah-loves-lilies @sturn-wrld @redz0nez9 @cheriematt @freshloveforthefit @nickuniversity @whore4matt @txssvx @will-yummy @matty-bear @venusbabysblog @m0r94n

[moonjxsung]

random question but being jisung biased has writing so much about minho bias wrecked you at all?

Oh my god I love this question so much……. Sorry in advance for the long answer to this but I’ve been wondering if anyone else has ever wondered this about me LOL

So fun fact: I actually have a twin sister who also ults skz! when we started stanning, we purchased their bubble tickets and split it into: she pays for hyung line bubble messages and I pay for maknae line. So I was only really obsessed with Jisung and didn’t quite have a bias wrecker picked yet. I very quickly became obsessed with the rest of my line (having bubble will do that to you lol) so I bias maknae line and she biases hyung line. Meaning SHE biases Minho…. So I don’t know when exactly, but I was always cracking jokes about how Minho isn’t part of my line, and my sister started this running joke that I should bias Minho and she always started saying the most out of pocket sexual jokes ever “you should be his manager and have backstage sex with him” and I’d be like nooo stop he’s not even my line!!! So when I first started writing on here I was really partial to writing abt Felix (I’m a Felix collector mainly) and he’s the one I’d have the most inspo for. Well when I got my first Minho request on here I was nervous af bc I was like I don’t bias him and he’s not even one of my bias wreckers🙁 Well let’s just say having someone in your ear talking about you and Minho having sex as a joke ALLL THE TIME came in handy bc I quickly started having the MOST inspo for him when it came to fic writing. Very quickly I started to get an influx of comments about how I write him the best and they like all my Minho stuff best so I just kept the cycle going and then it started to get bad in real life too…. Whenever my sister would be like ooo new Minho bbl message I’d be like WHAT IS IT? 🏃‍♀️ And she very quickly grew suspicious about whether I started actually biasing him 😭 we also saw 3racha in New York for global citizen, and when they first broke the news about the car accident (☹️) I cried like a BABY mostly for Minho and I had to take a break from my other social media when he was sorta MIA because I realized he means so much to me!! like he’s the source of so much of my inspiration and NO ONE knows I have a tumblr or write fanfic so it’s a TOP secret that Minho means this much to me and is a central part of my online presence here and most of my popular works. So in short: YES. Kinda. But nobody knows except my followers here now. And me. Let’s all keep it a lil secret between us bc my sister still thinks she’s the only one who biases him but she doesn’t know the epic highs and lows of Lost in Translation Minho or WTRS Minho like I do 🤭 THANK YOU FOR ASKING THIS LOL I LOVE THIS QUESTION SO MUCH IVE BEEN DYING TO SAY IT TO SOMEONE (I still bias Jisung though and Felix is still my main bias wrecker but….. Minho is my muse I guess)

[five-rivers]

Cult Division 3

Part of the Exhumed series

.

“What do you mean, you can’t change back?” asked Daily. 

“What do you think I mean?” asked Danny, stepping off the cloth, then stooping to ball it up into something he could easily carry.  “I can’t go back to being Phantom.”

“Then they really revived you?”

“No,” said Danny, “I don’t think so.”  He could still feel his ghost half, he just couldn’t grab it.  It had been like this for less than a minute and he already hated it. 

Daily shifted, looking around the park.  “Okay, um.  Can you do any of your… stuff?  The ghost stuff?”

Danny bit his lip and cycled through his basic powers.  Nothing.  He shook his head. 

“Oh, that’s bad.  You’re just like a normal kid now.”

He wasn’t wrong, exactly, but Danny wished he’d phrased it at least slightly differently. 

“A normal kid… In the park in the middle of the night…”  Daily shook his head.  “We shouldn’t be here when McGee comes back.  He still hasn’t chilled out.”

Meaning, he was still looking for things to report back to the agency that sent him in the first place.  Danny groaned.  “Don’t worry, I’m going home.”  Maybe his parents would have some insight into what had happened.  Or, at least, who they had sold Ghost Catcher thread to.

“Hey, no, wait, you can’t walk home from here like that.  You’re not even wearing a coat.”

“I don’t really have another option—”

“I’ll drive you.”

“Isn’t that Collin’s car?”

“He won’t miss it.  And he left the keys.”

Danny stared for a moment at the blatant lies, then shrugged.  He could still hear distant sounds of people running through trees and bushes.  It would take a while for Collins, Paterson, and McGee to catch everyone, assuming they caught anyone at all, and Fentonworks wasn’t that far away. 

He walked back to the car and opened the door, the front one, this time, and slid in.  Daily got in the other side, then stared blankly at the steering wheel. 

“You do know how to drive, right?”  It was a valid question.  Danny had never seen Daily drive. 

“Of course I do!  I just haven’t driven this car before.”  He started the car up, and very slowly pulled out onto the road. 

The slowness of the drive gave Danny time to further assess himself.  His ghost half was definitely, absolutely, still there (thank goodness).  It just felt… weighed down.  Pinned.  Tied up. 

He started picking at the glowing thread.  The patterns were repeated on his skin, but maybe it was just a matter of taking off his clothes…

The car slowed to a halt.  “Do you need me to walk you in?” asked Daily, drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel.  “I can…  Explain to your parents?  Or maybe your sister?”  Jazz was mentioned in a significantly more helpful tone than his parents.

“No, I’ve got it,” said Danny, opening the door.  “Thanks for the ride.  You’ll let me know what you find out about that cult and…”  He gestured at himself.  “Whatever they did.”

“Okay,” said Daily.  “Yeah.  Of course!  That’s my job, right?”

Keeping an eye on and researching cults was part of Daily’s job, but telling Danny wasn’t.  Still.  “Yeah,” said Danny, smiling weakly. 

.

Collins frowned at the empty parking lot.  “Paterson!” he called. 

“Yeah?” came Paterson’s voice, echoing across the park. 

“Did I, or did I not park here?”

“What?”

Collins groaned.  “Give it up, they got away!”  He sighed.  “Possibly with my car.”

.

Danny did not have the best track record when it came to telling his parents about things, but he was trying to get better.  Still, he felt like the present subject had to broached delicately.  That was why he was sitting on the floor outside their bedroom, listening to his dad snore.

He wanted to tell them.  He wanted to fix this.  But he didn’t want to admit how much trouble he’d gotten into and how a bunch of cultists had gotten the better of him. 

But he was trying, and his new, ugh, magic glowing tattoos weren’t something he could hide.  He picked up the broom he had brought with him and opened the door.  No point in knocking, they both wore earplugs to bed.  He picked up the broom and poked his dad with the end of it. 

“WHAT!  GHOST!”

“Hmhph?” said Maddie.  “Ghost?”  She had a small ectoblaster in her hand already. 

“No, just me.”  Danny put down the broom and raised his hands. 

“Oh, Danno,” said Jack, rubbing at one eye as Maddie pried the earplugs from his ears. “What are you doing here?” 

Danny bit his lower lip.  “I… might have screwed up.”

.

“Danny, sweetheart, that doesn’t sound like it was your fault.  It would have happened even if you stayed home.  You were kidnapped.”

“I guess.”  It still felt like he could have done something.  Maybe if he’d paid a little more attention to the cults, kept a closer eye on what they were doing.

“But we do need to see what we can do with all this.”  She picked up his hand and rubbed her thumb over one of the green marks on its back.  “…and about that summoning thing.  I don’t like that these people can just snatch you away whenever they like.”

“And we’ll never let them do anything like that again!  Or else!” said Jack, brandishing the spatula he was using to flip the pancakes.

“It sounded like it was related to the date somehow.”

“That doesn’t comfort us much, sweetie.  Especially considering what they did to you.  Do you think they really involved your, ah…”

“I mean…”  Danny trailed off and took his hand back.  He rubbed his arms against the sudden chill.  “I don’t know.  It’s not like I’ve never gotten my powers knocked out of whack.  It could be like that.  Might even have a time limit.”

“But?” prompted Maddie. 

“But… it feels different,” admitted Danny.  “It’s weight, not static.”

“Do you think we’ll need to, uh, what’s the word again, for digging up a, um…”

“Exhumation,” said Maddie, before Jack could come up with a proper euphemism for corpse. 

Danny wasn’t really comfortable about his… mortal remains.  But the pauses and too-obvious references were, in many ways, worse. 

Literally everything else about his life was better than when he’d still been keeping things a secret, though!  He did not want to go back!

Except maybe to earlier tonight, when getting the dead half of his body shoved back into him wasn’t something he had to worry about happening.

“We’ll have to ask the police about that,” said Maddie.  “Maybe we can start with a few simple tests after breakfast, though.  See if how much your readings changed from your baseline.”

“Hey!  Could be that all you need is a trip through the old Ghost Catcher!”

“Ghost Catcher string partially caused this,” said Danny.  “I’m not sure it’s a good idea to, uh, cross wires.”

“There shouldn’t be any problem with that,” said Jack.  “The strings aren’t reactive with each other, they wouldn’t work if they were.  Speaking of which, how did they even get it into this cloth?”  Jack used the spatula to point at the cloth, which was spread out over Jazz’s chair.  “Usually, you have to have special tools to work with any of it, or else it just falls through.”

“I don’t know, they didn’t really say anything beyond path of enlightenment nonsense.  You know, the whole ‘we worship you but won’t listen to a thing you say’ thing.”

Maddie sighed.  “We’ll just hope they get caught so they can tell us what they were actually trying to do.  In the meantime, we’ll do our own research…  And maybe you can use this as a break.  A little vacation.”

“In the same way sick days are a vacation, I guess.”

“Do you feel sick?”

“No,” said Danny.  “Not yet, anyway.”

“Maybe you should stay home from school until we can find a way to undo this.”

“Aw, no, Mom.  I don’t want to miss any school.  I’ve been actually doing okay this year.”

“But we don’t know how any of this is going to affect you.  What if it is temporary, and your… body is involved.  What happens if it times out in class?”

Danny swallowed, suddenly nauseous.  “I hadn’t thought about that.”

.

The chief of police sat in his office, blinds drawn, two thirds of the trouble trio and Cameron Daily. 

“You’re telling me that the person who is primarily responsible for protecting our city from hostile ghosts has been nerfed by cultists.  Cultists that you let get away.”

“Hey!” said Daily.  “I didn’t know you knew what nerfed meant, chief!”

The chief groaned.  “Find these cultists.  Figure out what they did.  Get the Fentons whatever they need to undo this.  Fast.”

.

“Alright,” said Maddie, as if she hadn’t been having a whispered argument with Jack only minutes before, “I’m going to city hall to file the exhumation paperwork.  You two stay here unless something happens to Danny.  No leaving for ghost attacks.”

“Aw,” said both Jack and Danny. 

“But, Mom—”  

“No buts.  This is a sick day for Danny, and someone needs to look after him the whole time.”  She pointed sharply at Jack.  “Don’t run off.”

Danny hunched his shoulder.  He wasn’t that bad to look after, was he?  Not that he wanted to be looked after.

“But if I’m the one to talk to Vladdie, it’ll be faster!”

“It’ll be hours, sweetie, if you two get started.  If he doesn’t leave you in the waiting room,” she added under her breath.  “You know how you two get.”

“Not when Danny’s at stake!”

Maddie gave him a look. 

“Fine,” said Jack. 

“Maybe you two can do something together while I’m gone.  Fudge, maybe?  Or cookies?”

“Oooooh!” said Jack.  “Yeah!  Cookies!  How does that sound, Danno?”

“I have homework,” groused Danny. 

“I can help with that, too!”

“Goodbye, guys.  Oh!  Remember, if I’m not back by lunch, run the tests again, okay?”

“Will do, Maddie!”

“Okay, Mom,” said Danny, giving a little wave. 

“Good, good.  So, keys, cell phone, wallet, boo-staff—” The door clicked closed, cutting off the rest of her list. 

“Okay,” said Jack, thumping Danny’s back and giving him a little shove at the stairs.  “I’ll get the kitchen set up!  You get your homework!”

“Yeah,” said Danny.  “Okay.” 

“Fundge here we come!” said Jack, pumping his fist.  “Get it?  Fundge?”

“Yeah,” said Danny, giving him a weak smile.  “I get it.”  He started for the stairs, irrationally annoyed he couldn’t fly up them.  He wouldn’t have flown up them anyway.  He hardly ever did that. 

He walked into his room and stopped.  Actually, where was his homework?  Where was his backpack? 

Ugh.  Typical. 

He started looking behind and underneath things, the process all the more tedious because he couldn’t just reach through them.  Hopefully he hadn’t done something stupid like phase it into the wall last night.  ‘Oops, I made my homework inaccessible to the living’ was not going to fly in any of his classes…  Unless he blamed it on his parents…  Food for thought.  He paused to email a request for class notes to Sam and Tucker.  Halfway through writing the message, he heard the screaming doorbell go off.

“I’ve got it!” called Jack. 

“Okay!”  Danny hit send on the email and kept looking for his backpack.  He dropped to the floor to look under his bed, scowled as it wasn’t there, either, then got up and tripped over his sheets, pulling them off his bed. 

Why had he put his backpack in his bed?  So stupid. 

He shouldered it and prepared to go downstairs, but… 

Something was wrong.  He thought back, trying to decide what it was.  Living… or unliving?  Half-living the way he did, he was pretty good at pinpointing the sources of vague senses of wrongness.

It was quiet. 

The front door hadn’t shut. 

Holy crap, had someone just kidnapped his dad?

Emergency blaster, emergency blaster…  He held his backpack by one strap to use as a bludgeon – the books in it were certainly heavy enough – and held the blaster steady in his other hand.  He would activate the Defense System, but his parents had ripped a lot of it out after the reveal and were still in the process of reinstallation. 

He tapped his door open with his foot and ventured out into the house.  It really was too quiet.  Almost suffocatingly so.  He held his breath.  Probably not the best choice, strategically, but something about everything…

He hit the bottom step of the stairs, turned into the kitchen, and ran into two people wearing oxygen masks. 

His reflexes were better, so he started firing immediately.  Ectoblasters weren’t meant to hurt humans, not really, but the impact to the chest was enough to knock both of the men back.  The recoil was equally sufficient to knock the air out of Danny’s lungs.  He wasn’t really trying to hold his breath, after all. 

He ran past them, inhaling, and… stumbled, suddenly dizzy. 

Oxygen masks. 

Stupid mistake!  Sometimes his instincts were good!

Something touched his upper arm, and he lashed out, swinging his backpack backwards.  There was an oof sort of sound, and one of the men toppled over.  The other one pulled the backpack out of Danny’s hand, which was a mistake, because he was still holding the gun.  Ectogun.  Whatever.  He shot him. 

Then…  Outside.  Whatever was in here, they couldn’t have enough to get the whole neighborhood, and if they could get away with just oxygen masks, it probably wasn’t super toxic.  Also, if it had spread very far, someone in the neighborhood would have noticed.  Probably.  Maybe. 

They’d notice enough to complain, at least. 

Halfway through the living room, he had to breathe again.  Human physical limits sucked. 

Black spots danced over his vision and left him on his knees.  He got back up and went for the door, stumbling drunkenly.  He hit it with his face.  Why were doors so hard to operate?

The black spots slowly grew until they consumed his vision. 

“Did… did he just run into a wall?”

“Just because he’s perfect doesn’t mean he smart.  And get rid of… we… need… backpack…”

.

Collins and Paterson stared at the most significant piece of physical evidence regarding Daniel Fenton’s kidnapping. 

“If you’re not going to say it, I am,” said Paterson. 

“Don’t say it,” said Collins. 

“I really want to, though.”

“Don’t.”

“I think ‘my homework ate a kidnapper’ is a great excuse for not doing it.  That kid is brutal.  How much blood do you think is on that thing?”

“Paterson, he got kidnapped.”

“Yeah,” said Paterson, a grin plastered on her face, “and that’s terrifying, thanks.  Let me have this.”

McGee escorted Daily through the front door of Fentonworks, his hand firmly on the man’s shoulder.  “Got him,” he said. 

“Oh, man,” said Daily.  “So, this is what a real crime scene looks like.”  He saw the backpack and squeaked.  “Is that blood?”

“Yeah.  Now do your thing and find out why these two think what happened last night in the park is connected to this.  Fenton wasn’t actually involved in that, was he?”

“His family takes care of the gravesite,” said Collins.  “And this is the biggest crime in Amity Park for years.  We have to look at everything.”

“Uh huh,” said McGee.  “Well, I’m going to go back out and question the father.”

Collins groaned internally.  Dealing with McGee was usually… if not exactly fun, then at least amusing, but dealing with his everything on a case like this…  With Danny’s… possibly with Danny’s life on the line, who knew how that worked with the whole cult thing…

“Do you think we can offload McGee on someone else?” he asked Paterson. 

“And give him something to actually report to his bosses?  Not a chance.”

[ghostoffuturespast]

Glitching The Matrix: Portrait Photos and Getting Up-close And Personal With NPCs In Cyberpunk 2077 Vanilla Photomode

Howdy, folks! Ghost here, back with some more tips and tricks for vanilla photomode. Some of you may have read my previous tips and tricks guide (laundry list?) a few months back, but I’ve learned some more fun things since then that I thought I’d share with you all. Specifically, in terms of taking portrait style photos and getting intimate with your favorite NPCs. (Well, as intimate as vanilla will allow.)

With the 2.0 update and the release of the PL expansion, I imagine a lot of people might be going minimal with the mods until they get up to speed, or maybe you just want to take some bomb photos if you’re running on a console, or you don’t have access to mods. Whatever the case, just know that with the right application of cheese whiz, you too can get dope photos.

I don’t claim to be the world’s best anything, but I’m always happy to share what I know and what I've learned.

Portraits

I have yet to actually play any of the expansion, but I’ve seen that there are some sweet new outfits and some hella cool new backdrops, and who doesn’t want to show off their Vs & OCs?

Now, there is nothing wrong with pulling out photomode and snapping a photo with the standard settings and not touching any of the sliders. I'm not here to ruin anyone's good time or dictate style. However, if you're looking for techniques to add a bit more panache to your photos, I’m going to do a quick rundown of some key things that I keep in mind when I'm taking portrait-style photos.

If you've been taking VP for a while, you may already know these things. But, hey, never hurts to review the basics.

Field Of View

The Field of View (FOV) slider is one of the most important tools in your toolbox and is basically the zoom on your camera. (Okay, it's a bit more complicated than that but I'm not that technical) It’s located on the far left tab. I utilize the shit out of it, and, if you aren't already acquainted, I’d recommend you become friends with it.

Rather than simply moving the camera closer to your subject, which, if you leave it at the standard 60 setting produces a lot of distortion and doesn’t give you much detail of your subject, slide that setting all the way to 15 to zoom in and then adjust the position of the camera to frame your shot how you want. At this point if you want to you can pull the Field Of View out to a higher setting or play around with where exactly you want the camera, for instance if you want to include more of the background or if there’s additional characters. 

By using FOV in conjunction with the camera position, it’s possible to get crisper detailed shots of your subject with less visual distortion. And if you have decent lighting and play around with some of the other settings (exposure, contrast, highlights) you can get some stellar shots with minimal editing. 

Just for reference, I usually don’t do any post-production on my photos. They’re all straight off my PS5. Photo editing is a bit of a time sink so it's personal preference that I don't do it. I barely have enough time for most of my other hobbies, so it's one less thing for me to do. If you want to do photo editing after the fact, more power to you.

Play with poses, look at camera, rotate poses, and camera location

I know that heading is a long list, but seriously, play with the angles! Since we’re working in vanilla photomode, all the poses are canned, everyone’s got the same stock poses and unfortunately some of them are just downright goofy. Which is fun on occasion, but maybe you're looking for something a bit more natural. So, in order to jazz things up and give yourself as much variety as possible, you’re going to want to keep angles in mind.

A lot of times I’ll cycle through all of the poses to find one that gels with the photo I’m trying to take, and at times I’m surprised at which ones those end up being. You zoom in close enough, you can barely tell you're using the JoJo poses. And rotating your character, rather than having them face straight on, can also help spice up the stock poses.

Swinging the camera around wildly in a circle also helps me scout out interesting compositions and backgrounds. I'll pan the camera around 360 so I can find the spots with the most visual interest. And I typically will make attempts to jam the camera in the weirdest places possible. (Through door ways, behind furniture, along walls, in between people and other objects etc.) I often think I know what I want when I go into grab photos, but often times a change of perspective helps me find something even cooler.

Not every pose has a look at camera option, but some of them do. Rotating your V/OC or changing camera position while using this feature will allow you to add some extra variety to your poses and expressions. You can get your character to look straight at the camera (which can be very striking), get some side-eye action, gaze off into the distance, and my personal fave, over the shoulder shots.

You can also add some additional flair by doing low-angle or high-angle shots too. And if you want a portrait orientation instead of landscape? Rotate the camera 180 degrees. It’s a bit disorienting at first, and try not to crik your neck, but now you can get full body shots. The only editing you'll have to do after exporting is rotating the photo to the intended viewing orientation, which you should be able to do in most photo viewers. No editing software required.

NPCs

If you’re taking photos of an NPC, you don’t have the option of posing these characters in vanilla, but if you time it right you can grab some awesome shots! The easiest time to snag photos of NPCs is usually right before you select dialogue options. They’re static, will cycle through a handful of actions, and main NPCs also eye-track V, so you can use this to your advantage if you need them to turn or want them to look in a specific direction.

It’s possible to grab action shots as well! They’re a bit trickier as it requires a lot of timing and you may need to hop in and out of photomode or even reload a previous save if you miss the monent, but totally doable. It also helps to be familiar with the flow of action for the quest by having done it at least once, that way you know when to bust out the camera. (I've lost count how many times I've played this game... Too many.)

Unfortunately, lighting is going to be very hit or miss during missions. If you keep your eyes peeled for good lighting opportunities it's possible to find them, and sometimes you can even kite NPCs over to it if they're following you. (Turning the muzzle flash on when your character is in a gun pose also works in a pinch, but might look a little silly depending on the context and if you're also trying to get your character in the frame.) When you're out and about free roaming though, it's much easier to come across good lighting sources as you can adjust the time of day or utilize the lighting you do come across.

But remember field of view, camera angles, playing with the poses, and adjusting the effects sliders can all help enhance a portrait shot.

Glitching The Matrix

Sooooo, I may have mentioned previously that I couldn’t do anything to help you all take shippy/otp pics… I’m more than happy to have proven myself wrong. Obviously, there are limits to this (you're not going to be able to get anywhere close to posed pics like you can with mods), but it’s a hell of a lot more feasible than I thought it was.

With help from this post (Thanks again, Heather!) and applications of sheer stubbornness on my part, I did in fact manage to glitch the matrix. It is entirely possible to bypass the collision physics around characters and certain objects with a little ingenuity.

Grandpa V & Old Man River are my otp, but I went ahead and took some additional photos for the sake of science. They aren’t cannon to my V’s timeline, but I just wanted to show you all the realms of possibility. And for all you SilverV shippers out there running vanilla, yeah, you can finally kiss your own brain worm.

This is as close as I'm gonna get to kissing Keanu Reeves lol.

(SilverDyne shippers… I’m sorry, I have no control of either rockerboy. It’s out of my hands, they’re just too spicy for vanilla. Or if you got a multi-ship or rare pair outside of the player character, can't help you there. Ask your local modder for assistance.)

Be advised, in order to take these kinds of photos, there are specific environmental parameters that need to be met and getting your V/OC posed correctly is going to test your patience the first couple tries. It's a finicky technique but once you get a feel for how to do it, it gets much easier and you'll know what to look for in order to setup this kind of photo.

Steps:

Find a time when your NPC is static (i.e. not moving from a particular spot. Doesn’t matter if they’re standing or seated. I don't want to say it's impossible to attempt from moving, but getting everything timed right is mega tricky and I haven't had much luck with the times I've tried so far.)

Make sure you have plenty of overhead clearance and that you have some room to pan the camera around. (If there’s an overhead barrier like a ceiling, cabinets, umbrellas, awning etc. it’ll impede your ability to move your character into position. For those of you that know me, I tried on the water tower and in the kitchen with River. I really did, but no dice. Dumb cabinets, and there weren't any objects at the right height that were close enough to use on the actual water tower.)

Get some height in proximity to your destination. You want something relatively close and around shoulder/head height of the NPC. (Can be anything really so long as it's the right height and close enough. If it's too high up, or too far away, you won’t be able to get your character in range. Too low, you won’t be able to circumvent the collision physics.)

Open photomode and hope you have access to all the action poses.

Find an action pose that has the up/down slider (Off to the Races is a good one to start with) and move your character all the way up. Then position character above NPC, lower them down into the NPC, and pray they clip through.

Mess with all the poses and pose sliders until desired results are achieved.

*If you cannot complete 4 or 5, exit out of photomode, adjust position, and repeat until you can clip through the NPC. If you can't get any kind of clipping to occur or you keep sliding around the NPC when you're positioning, you may not have the right environmental settings and may need to try in a different spot. It happens.

(Trust me, the horror face sucking is a good sign.)

Panning around so it looks less awkward, make some camera adjustments, and voila! (Good thing Judy's rocking that asymmetrical haircut.)

Your object also does not have to be right next to the NPC, like with Judy and the van. I used the white box thingy that Grandpa's hovering over in the photo above. The roof did get in my way on a couple of my attempts, but I did get it to work.

If you can get the full catalog of action poses to populate and you can get your V/OC to fully clip through your desired character/object without suddenly rubberbanding or deflecting when you move them around, know that you made it. 

Getting to this point though, may take several attempts. It’s also important that you use the action poses to move your character around as most of those have the up/down slider positioning, which is not available on the idle poses with a few exceptions. I’ve had the best luck with Roundhouse Shot to the Face, Just a Peek, Take Cover (left or right), Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon, and Off to the Races.

Unfortunately, I don’t have any solid advice on best practice for getting them into position however. You’re just gonna have to feel it out as the position sliders have a tendency to behave very erratically since you’re doing shit you’re not supposed to.

Do your best to not accidentally exit out of photo mode, be patient, and if you get a half-way decent shot or even kinda close, snap pictures for posterity in case something goes awry and you have to start over. If nothing else, you can have a good laugh about it later.

Utilize the tips from the portrait section above as well. You can’t change the NPCs expression or make your characters close their eyes (unless you get really lucky with your timing), so you’ll have to pull out all the camera tricks in your arsenal to make the setup look sort of natural.

Behind the scenes is pretty hilarious though.

And you can use this technique for objects and certainly for non-ship pics too. I demoed kissy pics because those are the hardest to set up. Maybe you just wanna hang with the chooms instead, y’know? S'all cool.

Grandpa gets tired and sometimes she needs to sit down. There's no pose to get your character to sit, but with some creative camera angles and poses, it sure does look like she's sitting.

Or you can finally just annoy the crap out of Johnny.

Anyway, hope this was helpful, and feel free to hit up my inbox if you’ve got questions!

May all your cheese be fine and remember the most important thing:

Have fun!

Grandpa's got the best seat in the house as far as I'm concerned.

[fights4users]

More assorted system headcanons

I’ve been doing a lot of individual post ones lately, slightly larger than these but not enough for an essay. I haven’t really had big post ideas lately but these are fun and I like to use them in writing (and anyone can for anything I put out btw)

Here’s some more after this one [ Sleep | drink ]

Encom system has (or used not to) no currency system, it’s more efficient to just let everyone about their way to do what they need to do. It keeps everything productive and less complicated… that was until paywalls went up. When the company got more greedy and secure things went a bit sour. Now you have to pay to travel to certain domains and it’s a hastle. Some know how to jump or get around paywalls others have a card from their users that gives them permission (basically a in world translation for paying to access a site)

However the Grid had currency from the start both as users were intended to eventually come in and they needed something to do with so long without purpose, they have their entirely own system that’s mainly made up but they ahear to. Clu doesn’t regulate it- mainly because it keeps the masses busy

Encom still utilizes physical buttons, keyboards and switches alongside some touch screen- while The grid is purely touch or holo screen (mainly for aesthetic, that’s the way most of it was built)

Another way to recuperate energy would be to plug in/charge sort of like a phone. Computers themselves are constantly plugged in and most of the time programs get energy simply through functioning but this is a more direct way, that also helps to skip a sleep cycle which takes much longer.

Similar to all programs using it/it’s interchangeably with gendered pronouns I can see them having open and undefined relationships. There’s not exactly jealousy as Counterparts are a bond that goes well beyond the way we view relationships, i don’t know if this makes sense

There’s a fate worse than Deresolution or deletion for programs …  obsolescence. You’re not dead but you’re also not running, not being used and you haven’t for a really long time. Existing but not, installed but the users and soon those you know forget you’re still there. Sort of a living-dead situation. (At least being derezzed your energy is recycled back into the system, not just wasted)

Coming from the Encom system Tron mourns buttons and the physicality of everything- it’s his “old man yells at cloud moment”. Whatever the digital version of ‘grandpa’ would be that’s what the betas (teens??) call him. “What was it like when the computer was invented?” *punts child* he’s two years older than the grid itself don’t do this to him

Encom is very abstract in everything, more often than not furniture is more of a low-resolution 3D abstract than a actual chair (if you’ve seen CGI from the. 80s- that) it’s much less representative of our world beyond programs reflecting users. There’s never ending horrors if you step just outside of where you’re supposed to.

Pac-Man is a “Grid eater” as described in the novelization. (Sark 100% put some poor soul in the Pac-Man maze,) types like him can be contained there’s others that are like worms and destroy-all viruses that you better just derezz— however sometimes they’re just sort of lumbering deep beneath out lands not hurting anyone so it’s 🤷‍♀️ Go there at your own risk

[hollowknightinsanity]

Do you ever think about. the fact that Radiance, the Light, the goddess of light herself, was upstaged by the Pale King. because his light was so much greater. and everyone flocked to him instead, and she was left behind and abandoned.

do you think about what she might've felt. the abandonment and betrayal she suffered, the revenge that she went lengths to achieve. would a higher being's grief be more powerful than mortal bugs, or do they grieve the same?

Well now I am

Time to ramble *cracks mental autism knuckles*

So!! I’ve always thought Radi to be more a goddess of dreams rather than light, and since I’ve already made goddesses for All Of It with my Kirby insanity (staring intently at the entire ykkan religion), she’d be more of a. Demigoddess rather than a full-on goddess. But she’s still wildly powerful.

I imagine that, with the context of my own story’s lore, Radi would be the daughter of one of the four Godsisters, specifically the Ykka of Dreams — like, in the Dream’s attempt to keep at least a part of herself alive, she threw out another being made of Dream matter to be her successor in her downfall.

Because she’s made of Dream matter, a type of matter associated with memories and emotions, her rage and grief would be felt by anyone physically close to her. Before she was contained in Holly, her own emotions would’ve been felt by all bugs throughout the entirety of Hallownest, and that’s what probably started the infection in this (VERY UNFINISHED) au. After her sealing though, it would mostly just be felt by Holly, since that’s where she is, but the already infected bugs would still be carrying that wrath.

And allll of that emotional-rage-grief stuff is exactly what killed Radi’s mother.

‘Tis a vicious cycle, the cycle of Godhood.

I also think PK would be the Soul’s attempt at salvation. As such, PK’s power would be equal to Radi’s if not even stronger considering the rarity of Soul Magic. And beings like the Soul are literally built to create new life, hence why all those types of beings are called Creator Entities, which means any creature birthed by the Soul would be of very high magical capabilities.

In Soul Journey, Soul Magic is incredibly powerful and incredibly rare — like, rare to the point that people thought it didn’t even exist anymore — so beings made with the sheer power of Soul Magic are bound to be almost on the same level as the Ykka of Soul. Not on exactly the same level, but almost. That amount of power is more than enough for someone to be worshipped.

Sure, Dream Magic is powerful — the ability to have complete control over one’s mind, to achieve mental Godhood, is unlike any other. But to naturally wield Soul Magic is to have complete control over the very thing that keeps living beings alive. To have control over how someone feels and acts, when they die, when they’re born, what they truly are to begin with. That type of power is absolutely insane, and is to be both feared and worshipped.

That is why PK stole Radi’s spotlight. Being birthed by the Soul means unbelievable power.

And that’s why Radi was so destroyed. She was worshipped, she was loved, she was treated like what she was — a Goddess. But then, some random creature part of a near completely extinct species appeared out of seemingly nowhere and dragged her worshippers way from her, all because he was made by something more powerful than she could ever be.

She was jealous. She was grieving. She was enraged. She was destroyed. Her mental state was in pieces, as was her following.

All that glory, completely stripped from her, leaving her forgotten and alone like she was nothing.

It broke her.

And she lost her mind.

She lost her will.

She lost herself.

She lost everything, and with it, her life.

And suddenly I feel really bad for calling her a bitch.

*ahem*

Yeah, PK was definitely deserving of the worship he received. But Radi in no way, shape, or form deserved to be left in the way she was.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I do think I’ll go cry now

[chvoswxtch]

May I request a drink? I have never done this before so I’m scared. 🥺 A margarita on the rocks with Javi. I recently have been addicted to listening to TS’s Folklore album, especially Exile.

Congratulations on 2k. You are an absolute amazing writer. Keep on doing all the amazing things.

hi nonnie!

welcome to the bar! please don't be scared. this is a safe space for all.

thank you so much for stopping by and making a request! i was hoping someone would order javi so i could play around with him. i hope you enjoy! cheers! 🥂

as a reminder: margarita on the rocks means it's spicy (minors dni)!

blurb below the cut

exile

i think i’ve seen this film before, and i didn’t like the ending

You both knew exactly how this would end. It would fall apart the way it had every other time. It was always great in the beginning, constructing a gilded house of cards together, until one of you, usually him, sent it tumbling down to scattered pieces with either too much accidental force or intentional self-destruction. 

“You’re breaking my fucking heart, baby.”

“You broke mine first, Javi.”

He knew you were right. It was always his fault. He wanted you, God did he want you, and for a while, he could ignore that little voice in the back of his head telling him he wasn’t good enough for you. He could remember to call to check in and ask how your day was. He could show up at your door on a Wednesday afternoon with a bouquet of flowers he saw in your favorite color that reminded him of you. He could slow dance with you in your kitchen under the spotlight of the moon to only the music playing in your hearts. For a little while, he could pretend.

But then reality would creep in. Javi would get so wrapped up in his job that you wouldn’t hear from him for days. He was never particularly good at expressing anything but anger, so he could never explain how he really felt. He either used the cowardly excuse that his life was too dangerous for you to be involved in, or he’d be a vindictive asshole on purpose to make you resent him, swearing to himself it was for the best. He’d let you go, and he wouldn’t chase after you.

Instead he’d drown his heart at the bar and lose himself in whatever woman he could find. But it didn’t matter how many women he ran through, because everytime he was inside someone, the only face he saw was yours. He wouldn’t call, but he kept tabs on you, and the second he even thought you were attempting to move on from him, he’d start the vicious cycle all over again. Javi would show up at your door with those remorseful eyes you couldn’t ever find the strength to slam your door shut on, and he’d get on his knees and beg for your forgiveness, spew an apology and declaration of love that could put the world’s greatest love songs and sonnets to shame, and seal his apology with a passionate kiss and another empty promise of change. 

“You can’t actually stand here and tell me that you love him.”

“How can I, Javi? How am I ever supposed to even try to fall in love with someone else if you won’t let me? This isn’t fair to me. Everytime we break up, you go and fuck every woman within a five mile radius and I’m supposed to just be okay with that, but when I go on a date, you’re breaking my door down-”

“It’s different. I’m not taking them on dates because they don’t mean anything. They’re nameless, faceless, nothing.”

“That doesn’t make it hurt any less, Javier.”

He hates it when you use his full name, because then he knows he fucked up. He hates hearing the break in your voice. He hates when you look away from him to hide your teary eyes because you don’t want him to see you cry. Not again. He hates making you cry.

“Mi amor. Por favor, no llores. Tu cara es demasiado hermosa para arruinarse con lágrimas.”

(My love. Please, don’t cry. Your face is too beautiful to be ruined with tears.)

Javi loves you. More than he’s ever loved anyone. By some miracle or the grace of God, you love him back, no matter how many times he returns your heart shattered in his hands. So he shows you how much he loves you and needs you, and how fucking sorry he is the only way he really knows how to express.

He pulls you into his arms and captures your lips in a deep kiss, pouring every ounce of love he feels into your mouth, gripping onto your face gently to keep you in place so that you can’t walk away from him. He gets on his knees and uses his tongue to beg for forgiveness and redemption at the altar between your thighs. Javi fucks you slowly and deeply into that magical spot of time between midnight and twilight where everything is still and anything seems possible. He holds your hand above your head as you surrender your body to him. He catches a glimpse of heaven inside you and plants a seed, wondering if this one will take and give you the opportunity to try to grow something else together.

Javi drips sweet nothings and praise into your ear like honey, nuzzling affection into your neck and promises of ‘it’ll be different this time’ are plastered to your lips.

“Tienes mi corazón. Siempre lo has hecho. Quítame la vida también. Tómalo todo.” 

(You have my heart. You always have. Take my life too. Take it all.)

Maybe it will be different this time. Maybe there will be a different ending.

Maybe it’ll be a happy one.

[chibishortdeath]

I’ll keep this under a cut since it’s a vent, but things are going very horribly right now. I have no idea what to do. I feel like a complete fuck up.

Now I don’t know if this is what it is for sure, but something is fucking wrong with me cause I obviously just can’t interact with people correctly. I have realized recently that every single friendship I’ve ever had lines up exactly with BPD and having a ‘favorite person’. Not diagnosed obviously cause this is all very new information to me and I don’t have a therapist or anything, but holy hell is it pretty much exactly the cycle that’s happened with almost every single friend I’ve ever had my whole life. If that’s not what it is then idk what else it could be but yeah idk where I’m going with this sentence…

I have a great first impression with someone, we end up very great friends talking almost everyday or often, I care so so deeply about this person, something happens to the usual routine or someone else ends up talking to me, I suddenly either end up feeling way less close to them or just lose the spark entirely, I feel like a complete asshole and desperately try to feel the same way again to no avail, it either ends horribly and painfully or is never the same again and I am completely wracked with guilt and confused as to why I’m a terrible person who sucks at being a friend for a while, and then I end up stupidly believing it’ll be any different next time. It’s been this way as long as I can remember.

And it’s just constant. I can’t keep any more than maybe one main friend and a few secondary friends at a time. I can’t have too many social interactions with secondary friends too frequently no matter how much I love them or I’ll end up completely burnt out and overwhelmed. I can’t talk to anyone without being terrified I’ll just break them. I feel like a fucking parasite. I don’t know what to do, I don’t feel like I wanna get close to anyone anymore. I don’t think I should. I’m just gonna fail and hurt everyone I love. Part of me just wants to dip off the internet for good, but I’m an idiot and I need to see content of and talk about a game or I’ll start spiraling again, not that I’m not already though I guess.

To make it worse, I do have friends that I know I’m failing right now. I know I’m gonna hurt all of them. The pattern is already past the point of no return. And now I know that it’s my fault. That it’s really is just a me problem. It’s always been me that’s the problem. Every time has been because of me. I know I’m going to inevitably neglect most of them because I’m already isolating myself. I know can’t balance all of them at once without being overwhelmed. I know I can’t pick myself up again without getting overwhelmed. I know I can’t get the routine back. I know it can’t go back to how it was. I know it can’t. It’s just gonna end like it always has, awful for everyone involved. I don’t know how to fix it or if I can at this point.

It’s so fucking selfish. It’s disgustingly mean of me. I just wanna be a good person. I just wanna be a good friend. That’s all I want. I just wanna make people happy and share time with people and talk and have similar interests and laugh and be there when they need it and give gifts and hug and hang out. I just wanna be a friend. But it never works. It always ends up this way. I shouldn’t have tried. I really shouldn’t have. I’m just hurting people at this point.

[moodymelanist]

ooh if you haven't already, tell me something about "nothing in the world is mine for free..." please?

thank you for asking about this one 🥰🥰 I’ve been obsessed with mitski’s “my love mine all mine” and I saw a stucky edit with that song on TikTok… and the lyrics really resonated with me especially for Bucky.

so I just put it on repeat one day and started writing to see what came out haha. it’s a post-tws thing where Bucky is keeping tabs on Steve (and remembers Steve!) but he hasn’t gone to him yet. here’s a snippet under the cut:

Bucky wanted to go to Steve more than he’d wanted anything in decades, but his feelings for Steve were the one thing he’d been able to hold onto for himself for a long time. He knew it was selfish to keep eyes on Steve when Steve couldn’t do the same, but Bucky thought he’d earned the right after all these years. The way he felt about Steve was his, and like hell would he let anyone take it away from him. Not again. He’d paid more than high enough of a price.

So Bucky watched, and he kept tabs, and he waited. For what, he wasn’t quite sure, but he wasn’t quite the same Bucky Barnes that he’d been before he’d gotten blasted out of that train. What if Steve was just chasing a ghost of the Bucky he’d known and loved? What if he wouldn’t be able to handle this new and not-so-improved version?

Bucky knew logically that Steve would never, ever think that. They’d both changed; neither of them were the boys they’d been back in Brooklyn. But his brain didn’t always think rationally outside of a mission, and his general paranoia and anxiety fed into a vicious cycle of worries about Steve rejecting him. He wasn’t exactly a catch these days. He wouldn’t blame Steve if he was too much now.

Even when Bucky had had nothing, some part of him had remembered Steve, had felt the echoes of the love that had kept him going through hell even when he hadn’t known what it meant. He didn’t know what he’d do without it, so it just seemed… easier to keep his distance. If he never made himself known, never confronted Steve, nobody could take away his carefully constructed house of cards.

Not even Steve himself.

[thesecretattic]

Not “modern” obvs masculine clothes cuz she has the habit of doing that (she takes from all those men even middle aged uncles) n she loves being androgynous, her body language is also such. Now I’m dying. 50+ deaths even in my Gen. See the eye, She had disappeared mysteriously & her body is hidden in that casket, I had a feeling no small princess or local woman wud do that, I didn’t “remove” anyone identical to Aneri, don’t laugh SEE ALL THE EVIDENCE first, I love different cultures & traditions & I searched for that particular time frame (Dynasty period out of curiosity B.C.) & I was shocked to see someone exactly like her, when I read the article I read about her obsession with Sun God Amun (u remember the signs wud always say Sun?) and see the eye she’s reversing it on my eye. Now I’m dying. Read about my mother’s worse torture n Harsh isn’t here his behaviour has made everything worse for me even my childhood abuse. All my life I was abused not kissed even once it’s insulting.

50+ Deaths due to ur INFIDELITY which keeps the cycle going especially with the rebirth of that same vengeful spirit around (Aneri who had klld ppl in every prev life find Mysterious Deaths & Titanic post hence same nos. & 0404 post, Opposites post Find LIST OF SOULMATE SIGNS ON FB, 21st Dec post (from 26th July) both our moms birthdate see what the post has I’ve been much WORST than u can imagine, Red Vision post 29th July (see my condition it’s scary u did this to me see my eyes) Damaged eye post & Lungs Brain & Heart post 25th June. Karmic tale gone awry. I was FATED TO BE a KARMIC reaction for her (it was supposed to teach her a lesson OR AT LEAST save ppl from HER DESTRUCTIVE JEALOUS nature in this life YET she did this by making Harsh UPTURN IT ALL with UNFAIR things all undeservingly) SHE IS THE PARSI DAKHMA’s rebirthed Vengeful Spirit “VAJANI” 29th Mar vs 26th Mar Harsh ruined it by DOING THE OPP MADE THINGS UNFAIR. Wasted my best friend’s MOM’S death which gave me a new life entirely wasted that also. That vengeful ghost’s rebirth Aneri VAJANI won all over again

MORE SIMILARITIES in all the DEATHS (same patterns) BELOW its continued

[mama-ivy]

The Unexpected Alpha

Ok, kids. This is my first deep dive into the world of werewolves. With a word count of 6320, it has become glaringly obvious to me that this fic got way out of control. Do I hate it? No. Do I love it? Also, no. There were so many more places the Avengers cast of characters wanted to take this, but being the cruel mistress that I am, I cut them short. Maybe, just maybe, I'll come back to it.

The only warning is cussing.

So here, below the cut, is all of the craziness that I can now delete from my brain. For this year's @augustwritingchallenge Day 12 - Animagus.

“What do you plan on telling them?”

“I haven’t figured it out exactly, yet.  I’ll probably just tell them the Alpha is away on business.”

“And you don’t think that they are going to question why our Alpha thought other business was more important than his son being mated to the only daughter of their Alpha?”

“Yeah, that’s why I haven’t figured it out exactly, yet.”  Bruce ran his hand through his uncombed raven curls. His large shoulders slumped before he dropped into the overstuffed lounge chair in front of the roaring fire in the Alpha’s office space.  He knew being his cousin’s Beta would be hard, but no one had told him it would be this hard.  Running a pack following the untimely death of his Alpha cousin was the single handedly hardest thing he had ever done.  “Dammit, Tony. You’re supposed to be here doing this, not me.” He muttered to himself before looking up at the man waiting for his response.

Nick had served as the Alpha’s personal secretary and liaison for over thirty years, serving both the most recent Alpha and his father loyally. He had watched Bruce and his older cousin, Tony, grow from small boys and took a personal hand in their training and education.  No one was startled when Tony finally transformed into a silvery white wolf, indicating he was destined to be the next Alpha, but Nick was the only one not surprised when Bruce’ wolf finally showed with jet black fur proving him to be the next Beta.  He knew the two boys better than anyone.  Bruce was meant for Beta.

“What about James’ fur?”

“It’s black. There’s nothing I can do about it. Tony’s son will be the next Beta. Fenrir alone knows who the next Alpha will be.” Bruce let out a large sigh. “Maybe this moon cycle, we will as well.”

“Are you excited?”

James looked over at his best friend with a look of utter disbelief.  “Why in the world would I be excited?”

Steve shrugged his shoulders and lay back in the tall grass lining the creek running through the northern most tip of the pack’s territory. The two boys could often be seen playing in the trickling water together away from everyone else. It had always been their favorite place to escape schooling and Nick’s rigorous training.  “I figured you’d be looking forward to meeting the girl.  I heard she was pretty.”

“Yeah. Super excited.” James rolled his eyes and tossed the last of the skipping rocks into the water before laying down beside Steve. “They’re going to be even more excited than I am when they find out I’m not the Alpha they thought I was.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. It’s just been a lot. Dad dying and my wolf not being white. Uncle Bruce keeps snapping at me.”

“Bruce is under a lot of stress right now. He doesn’t mean it.” Steve rolled over and propped himself up on his elbow. “Besides you’re going to be a great Beta. You just better not let the new Alpha kick me out of the pack.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. He wouldn’t dare. Besides, you’re all set to take over as Guard Major.  Why would any Alpha kick out his head of security?”

“I’m technically not a pack member. The only reason I’ve been in the pack house is because your dad took pity on your poor little fatherless friend.”

“You’ve been living in the pack house since you were five.  I think you’re considered a pack member by now.”

“Well, I don’t feel like much of one.” Steve sighed.

“That’s on you.” James sat up and picked at the grass tickling his feet. “Wanna switch places?”

“Not a chance in hell, Buck.” Steve stood. “I’ve got to go check on the ylva.  You better get back to Bruce before he sends someone to look for you.”

James nodded and then stood to give his friend a quick hug. “Thanks for talking to me. Seems like not a lot of people are willing to just listen to me since dad died.”

“You’re going to do great. I’ll see you after dinner.”

James nodded and then left for the pack house while Steve crossed the stream to see the ylva.

“Mother? Are you busy?”  Steve called out before fully stepping into the ylva’s hut located just outside of the pack’s territory on the small sliver of neutral ground between their home and the home of James’ future mate.

“I’m never too busy for you, sweetheart.” Steve was the only cub of the ylva that served as seer and advisor to both pack leaders and was crucial in securing the ceremony to align them both. She appeared in the doorway dressed in the traditional gowns that she wore while communing with Fenrir.

“You look like you’re getting ready to pray.”

“Just finished.” She pointed towards the small kitchen just off of the main sitting and meeting room. “There’s some leftover lunch if you’re hungry.”

“No thanks, mom. I ate at the pack house.”

“How is James doing? Nervous?”

“Not exactly. More scared than anything.” Steve sat in one of the chairs that faced the front windows. “He doesn’t like the idea of marrying a girl he’s never met and who thinks his fur will be white.”

Steve’s mother shook her head slightly. “Yeah, that is unfortunate. Fenrir assured me that the next alpha would be Tony’s son. I was sure it would be James.”

“Bucky doesn’t have any brothers. Who else would it be?”

Steve’s mother was silent for a moment. Steve didn’t notice. “What about your fur, sweetheart? The moon cycle ends in a couple of days, have you been feeling alright?”

“Nothing yet, mom.” Steve sighed. “I must be the oldest wolf in the pack that hasn’t changed form yet.”

“It will happen when Fenrir feels it is the right time. Your father changed late as well.”

Steve hummed to himself. He knew better than to probe further about his father. His mother never answered any questions about him. It was the one sticking point between the two of them. “When are they coming?”

“They, darling?” The ylva gathered her robes and sat in the chair next to Steve. “Oh, the mate for James. She is already on her way – along with her father and his Beta. They should arrive at the pack house by tomorrow evening.”

“Do you think she’ll stay after finding out about him?”

“Knowing Bruce, he has already concocted some elaborate story as to why Tony is unable to attend. Very intelligent man, that one. And yes, she’ll stay. The other pack has been warned what Fenrir will do if they back out of this deal.”

“Fenrir will do, or you, mom?” Steve grinned at his mother.

Steve’s mother grinned back and patted his knee. “One and the same, my darling.”

Steve reported back to Bruce as soon as he returned.  It was late, but he knew that Tony had always required him to check in immediately following his return from his mother’s hut regardless of the time.

“How is she doing?”

“I can come back tomorrow, Bruce. You look exhausted.”

Bruce shook his head and leaned back in the same chair that he had been sitting in all evening. He motioned for Steve to continue.

“She’s fine. She sent a list of supplies that she is running short on. The Carter pack is bringing her some things, but was unable to get these for her.” He handed the slip of paper to Bruce. He read over it quickly.

“Give it to Nick. See that he takes care of it.”

Steve took the list from his mother and tucked it away. “She said they’ll be here by tomorrow evening.”

“Did you tell her about James?”

“She already knew. She’s just as confused as you are.”

“They’re going to back out.” Bruce sighed and closed his eyes. “I don’t know what to tell them.”

“Mom said that they wouldn’t dare back out for fear of what she told them Fenrir will do. She also said you would come up with some great story about Tony’s absence.”

Bruce chuckled to himself. “Your mother is a piece of work. I’m grateful every day that she chose our pack to train you instead of the Carters.”

“I’m going to bed. Get some rest, Bruce. You need it.”

Bruce only nodded.

Peggy sat quietly next to the roaring fire that her father had started shortly after sunset. She normally loved camping with her dad and Scott, but this felt very different. She knew she wasn’t coming back. “It’ll be fine, kid. You’ll do great.” Scott tried to reassure her.

“You’re only six years older than me, Scott. If I’m still a kid, then so are you.”

“Alright, not in the mood for teasing. I get it.”

“James will make a fine match, Peg.” Her father interrupted.

“You’ve already said, dad. I just don’t like how medieval this feels. Really? We’re still marrying for political reasons?”

“If you don’t like the political aspects, then consider the religious ones. Fenrir as expressed a desire for this mating to happen. For the good of the pack.”

“Fenrir or Ylva?” Peggy scoffed.

“There’s a difference?”

“I think there is.”

“Margaret!” Her father bellowed setting off the crickets nearby.

Scott leaned in to her. “Careful, Peg.”

“Dad, I get it. I’m going to be Luna of the Stark pack. I’ll provide James with a slew of pups. But I don’t have to like any of it. And I’m definitely not allowing him to imprint on me.”

Scott shook his head while her father stood. “I warned you.” He mumbled just loud enough for Peggy to hear.

“I am going for a run. Scott, she better be in a milder mood when I return.”

“Like I can do anything about the attitude your daughter inherited from you, Hank.”

Hank growled at both of them before shifting and running off into the woods.

“Sorry if I got you in trouble, Scott.”

Scott laughed. “I’m not the one in trouble, Miss Mouth. Your dad might be old fashioned, but he’s still the alpha. You need to figure your shit out. Quickly.” Scott laid down and closed his eyes. “Don’t let the fire go out before he returns.”

James and Steve were both awoken early the next morning in their respective rooms by Bruce. “I need you both to help Nat clean out the guest houses today.” The boys were following Bruce through the halls towards the kitchens. “No grumbling please. I promised Nat I’d find her some help and I’m already in enough trouble with her for not returning to our bed last night.”

“I told you to go to bed.” Steve laughed.

Bruce spun around to face them. “Are you the one that tattled on me?”

“Like anyone needed to tattle.” James replied. “We all know how Nat is when you don’t listen to her.”

“Yeah. Which is why you two are helping her today and not me.” Bruce turned back around and continued to the kitchen. “Quick breakfast. I made sure the Omegas made something filling for you. Then go find Nat. She’ll have a list of chores for you both.”

The boys spent the day cleaning out the guest houses that were currently being used for storage. Every inch of the two houses were stuffed full of extra tables and chairs for large pack gatherings and boxes of things like party and holiday decorations. Nat assured them that the mopping and dusting would be left to the Omegas and the sooner they were able to empty the rooms, the more time they would have for getting ready for the dinner that would be held in honor of the Carter pack’s arrival. They did as they were told and kept their mouths shut. They could tell Nat was still a little hurt by the fact that she had slept alone the night before.

The sun was just setting when the call came that the Carters had reached pack territory.  After a final swarm of activity, Bruce, Nat, Nick, and James stood stoically on the front porch of the pack house to welcome their guests. Escorted by two guards, Hank, Scott, Peggy, and Ylva approached them.

“Welcome.” Bruce stepped forward and held his hand out to shake Hank’s and Scott’s. “We were expecting quite a bit more of you.”

“Unfortunately, much like yourselves, the pack is busy with other matters.” Hank shook Bruce’s hand firmly. “I will have to return first thing in the morning. Scott can stay as long as necessary to ensure Peggy settles in.”

“Yes, I apologize for Tony’s absence.”

“No matter. Ylva explained everything on our journey.”

Bruce looked over at the ylva. She smiled warmly at him. “Tony assured me that he wished us all the best during these tense hours.” She said. “I promised him I would keep him updated. Now where is Steven?”

“He’s inside, Ylva.” Bruce gave her a grateful look. “Make yourself at home.”

Ylva bowed gracefully before the three men and entered the pack house in search of her son.

Peggy spent the remaining few hours of her last day of freedom staring into the fire while her father and Scott slept somewhat peacefully inside their tents. Her father had suggested they take 4x4’s to the neighboring camp, but Peggy (whether it was to delay the inevitable or relish in the nostalgia, she didn’t know) insisted they hike and camp according to their family tradition. With tradition mentioned and the opportunity to spend a few remaining hours with his only daughter, Hank couldn’t find it in himself to argue despite his presence needed at home.

The sun rose too early for Peggy’s taste and with very little rest in her, she started breakfast for the three of them.  They would be reaching the ylva’s hut by midday where they would eat lunch, deliver the supplies, and bring the ylva to the Stark’s to oversee the ceremonies which were scheduled to take place in three days. Hank would not be there for the mating ceremony. Peggy’s older brother was extremely sick and he would be returning after spending only one night at the Stark’s pack home.  The future of the Carter line was at stake and took precedence over the future of the neighboring pack. This fact made Peggy even more upset that she was being shipped off. She loved her brother dearly and wanted to be home caring for him.

The last day of travelling was uneventful and they reached the ylva’s hut on schedule. As soon as she stepped into the hut, Peggy started to feel off. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but knew something was wrong. It wasn’t nausea – she was able to eat her lunch without any issues – but she felt warm and tingly all over. The ylva noticed and pulled her aside to ask her how she was doing.

“I feel ill.” Peggy moaned. “Hot and on edge. Am I running a fever?”

“No.” Ylva felt her forehead. “The moon cycle is reaching a close, have you been able to shift yet?”

“Yes, ma’am, last cycle.”

The ylva smiled before giving her a hug. “I think I know what it is, but your wolf doesn’t understand yet. She’ll know by tomorrow, I’m sure.”

The last leg of the journey was spent catching up with pack business and filling Peggy in on her role in the ceremonies. Hank apologized again and again to both Ylva and Peggy for needing to leave, but only Ylva responded with kind words. Peggy remained silent, desperately wanting to tell her father that she was sick and wanted to go home. She knew better though and by the time they reached the pack house she was leaning heavily on Ylva and praying her wolf would stop her screaming.

He's here. Our mate is here.

Ylva found her son in his room. In bed. Writhing in pain.

“Mom.” He cried weakly. “It hurts.”

“Oh, my baby boy.” Ylva laid down beside him and gently stroked his sweat soaked hair from his forehead. “Tonight is the night. We’ll get to see your gorgeous fur.” She hummed softly to him and tried to distract him, but still he sobbed softly and tried to curl into a small ball.

Less than a half an hour later, a knock came at the door. “It’s me.”

“Come in, James.” Ylva called out.

James quickly entered and closed the door behind him. “You holding up?”

Steve only shook his head.

“How long has he been like this?”

“Ever since lunch today.” James came closer and sat on the end of the bed. “Uncle Bruce chewed out the Omega’s for giving him food poisoning.”

“He’ll have to apologize to them, then. This has nothing to do with food.”

“He’s shifting, isn’t he?” James looked over at his friend who continued to moan.

“Yes. Is there somewhere I can take him for some privacy?”

“The creek.” Steve managed. “It’s far enough away.”

“Tell me where.” Ylva helped her son sit up.

“I’ll show you.” James replied. “He stayed with me during my shift, I’m staying with him.”

“You two are something else.” Ylva smiled.

James helped Steve shuffle to the creek.  It took almost an hour. “Why is he hurting so much? I don’t remember it being this painful.”

“Every wolf is different.” Ylva replied. “The stronger the wolf, the more transition needs to take place.”

Steve collapsed in the soft grass. “I want to get in the water.”

“That’s a good idea, baby boy.” Ylva helped him undress. “You feel very hot. The creek will help you cool down a little.”

James undressed himself and then carried his friend into the water. “Lean on me, buddy. You’re too weak to swim.”

As soon as Steve reached the water, he leapt from James’ grip and dove into the deepest water he could find. He felt like he was burning up. Every muscle and bone ached. He needed to be under water. The creek might not cool him off enough, but it would definitely muffle the scream sitting in his throat.

“STEVE!” James started to go after Steve, but Ylva stopped him.

“He’s shifting now. Don’t get close!”

James watched helplessly as Steve’s head dropped under the water. A flurry of splashes and a flood of bubbles surfaced. The usually crystal-clear water looked murky and dark in the moonlight. James quickly lost sight of Steve. What seemed like forever later, a howl pierced the air. Deep, rumbling, haunting. Steve emerged from the water like a silver cloud. His wet fur glistened in the moonlight like it was covered in diamonds. He climbed onto the bank and shook violently. Droplets flew outwards immediately soaking both James and his mother. He looked around momentarily, his blue eyes narrowing as if he was trying to figure out exactly where he was.

Ylva let out a gasp. “Steven.” She whispered.

“Holy fuck, buddy!” James laughed loudly. “I can’t believe it!”  He held his hand out to Steve who bowed slightly and licked his palm. “We have to go tell Bruce. He’s going to freak out.”

Steve sat back on his hind legs and nodded his head. With howls of excitement, Ylva and James both shifted – James into his raven wolf, slightly smaller than Steve and the new alpha’s perfect pairing, and Ylva into her golden fur hiding just the smallest hints of red. The trio ran back to the pack house, the moonlight making their damp fur shimmer with every movement.

Peggy sat quietly and uncomfortably at the spread of food that covered almost every corner of the large dining table. Her stomach was in knots and every joint felt like it was on fire. She desperately wanted to escape and lay basking in the moonlight in the meadow near her home. Tears threatened to surface, and try as she might, she could barely keep them under control.

Only tasting every dish out of respect, Peggy barely ate anything and spend most of dinner wistfully staring out of the window across from her toward the view of the gardens. Her father, Scott, Bruce, and Nick discussed what she knew would be her future, but she paid them no mind and excused herself as soon as she was able.

She wandered into the gardens and found a small clearing surrounded by rose bushes. The heady scent helped to calm her nerves, but did nothing to ease her physical discomfort. In the distance, she heard several wolves howling. This time of the month, that would be normal, but one howl in particular seemed to shoot like lightning straight to her heart and made her breath catch in her throat. Her wolf howled back, and it took everything in her to not shift and take off toward the unknown male.

Closing her eyes and lifting her face to the moon, she did her best to even her breathing. This was going to be her life now, and the sooner she accepted that, the sooner she’d be able to be satisfied. Probably not happy, but satisfied, at least. Off in the distance, she heard loud panting and the thundering of feet. Three wolves came tearing through the tree line surrounding the pack house. The golden one, Peggy instantly recognized as Ylva, but who were the other two? An alpha and a beta. She was told Tony wouldn’t be here this week and Bruce was still inside talking to her father. Something weird was going on and Peggy intended to find out. Her wolf very much agreed, but she suspected for quite different reasons.

She watched them run around to the back of the house, and assuming that they were sneaking in, started looking for entrances that were downwind so that she would at least have a few moments before the three wolves knew she was following them.

She ended up going back in the same door she exited and sneaking past the entrance to the dining room. She saw her father and Scott talking to Nick, but Bruce was nowhere to be found. None of the men paid her any attention.

Wandering through the halls, she let her wolf lead her.  She seemed to know where she was going, and was desperate to get wherever that was.

Mate. Our mate. He’s here.

The closer she got to the mystery, the stronger her wolf fought to get out. Peggy struggled to keep her under control and not shift. Quietly, she creeped. Closer. Closer.

At the end of the longest hallway, Peggy found what (or rather who) she had been looking for. The door was slightly ajar, and voices were drifting through the crack. Some she recognized – Bruce, Nat – but one voice in particular caught her wolf’s attention.

“Did you know?” Bruce demanded.

“Not at all.” Ylva replied. “I was told Tony’s son. Nothing more.”

“So Fenrir lied?” James asked.

Ylva stood silently looking directly at her son in the corner of the room.

“Ylva, you’re telling us that Fenrir was mistaken.” Nat tried to clarify in an attempt to diffuse the situation.

“No.” Ylva straightened up and looked up at Bruce defiantly. “Fenrir neither lied nor was mistaken. Tony’s son is the new alpha.”

Bruce’s jaw dropped. “Are you – um, Steve is – Ylva, Steve is Tony’s uh – son?”

“What?” Steve stepped forward and in between Bruce and his mother. “Is that why you refused to tell me anything about my father?”

“Tony asked me not to.” Ylva turned and sat in one of the lounge chairs facing the Alpha’s desk. “In return for my silence, he would raise him and train him. What choice did I have? I was called into Fenrir’s service before I knew I was pregnant. An Ylva cannot raise a child.”

“Did Ginny know?” Nat took Ylva’s hand carefully.

“Yes.” Ylva slumped into Nat. Tears began brimming in her eyes. “Ginny had been my best friend since we were pups.  She knew that Tony and I were true mates. She also knew that we would not be afforded the chance at a life together. She promised me that she would raise Steve as her own and care for Tony as I would have.”

“Mom,” Steve took his mother from Nat’s arms and enveloped her in his own. “You could have told me. I wouldn’t have been mad.”

“I know, son.” She whispered into his neck. “Your father specifically did not want it known for fear that the pack wouldn’t accept Ginny as Luna.”

Steve comforted his mother for a moment before lifting his head and staring at the door of the room. “Someone is here.”

“Do you smell someone?” James came to stand next to his friend.

“Not smell.” Steve let go of his mother and shook his head furiously. “My wolf is screaming. How do you guys stand this?”

“You get used to it.” Bruce replied dryly.

“You don’t think it’s weird that only Steve is reacting?” James asked him.

“If only Steve can tell someone is here, then that person is here for Steve.” Nat explained. “We are not meant to be a part of that.”

Ylva stepped back away from her son and looked up at him. “Peggy.” She whispered.

A muffled cry came from the other side of the door and Steve was there in a second throwing the door wide open.

Years from now, Steve would not be able to name anyone in that room the first time he laid eyes on Peggy. He would swear on all the moon gods that his heart stopped. He would tell his pups that a moon beam followed her down the hall creating a back light that made it look like she wore wings. Peggy would tell the story differently to include intense fear and the most menacing growl that she had ever heard.

Peggy clasped her hand over her mouth to keep in the sobs. Her wolf was screaming in her head and she could barely concentrate on anything else. “I’m so – I’m, s – “ She watched as Steve tilted his head to the right as if he were waiting on her to do something that she should already be doing. “I’m sorry.” was all she could muster before she darted back the way she came.

“I forgot about her.” Bruce mumbled.

Hank and Scott fell asleep in the soft guest house beds almost immediately. Peggy was not as lucky. Drenched in sweat, she tossed and turned fitfully before giving up and going out to the small porch and sitting on the front steps. She could see him in the distance, framed almost perfectly by the moon. She watched him shift back and forth several times.

He’s ours. Ours.

“Peggy?”

She whipped her head around and saw James coming up behind her. “Oh. Hi.”

James watched Steve on the horizon for a few moments and then sat down beside Peggy. She scooted over to give him some room. “So that’s Steve.”

“Does my dad know?”

“Our whole pack doesn’t even know yet. This is a sort of new thing.”

“He just changed, didn’t he?”

“Tonight. During your dinner.”

“I was wondering where you were.”

“How did you know?” James looked at her. “That this is brand new?”

“I did the same thing.” Peggy nodded in Steve’s direction. “Shifting back and forth that first night. Wanted to get used to the feeling. See if I could control it any better.”

They sat silently for a few moments before Peggy spoke again. “So, I guess I’ll be Beta Female then.”

“I mean, I figured you’d be mating with Steve, but I guess so. Are you mad?”

“Nah. Wasn’t looking forward to the whole Luna thing anyway.”

NO! LUNA! STEVE IS OURS!

Peggy grit her teeth and scrunched up her face against the onslaught of screams in her head.

“You ok?” James asked.

“My wolf is upset. She’s yelling at me.”

“You can hear your wolf too?” James looked at Peggy in awe. “I thought that was only me. I think Steve can hear his too. No body ever teaches you this stuff.”

Peggy smiled weakly at him. “Do we have to tell my dad right away?”

“The only reason Bruce hasn’t already is because he was busy getting Steve sorted. He’s going to want to in the morning.”

“It’s just, Scott will take the news so much easier without my dad growling about everything. Sometimes it’s easier to let Scott handle stuff than my dad.”

James pulled a face at her. “I can’t imagine not telling my alpha everything right away.”

“Your alpha neglected to inform you that you had a brother. Seems like your pack loves secrets. What’s one more?”

“Touché.”

“Please will you help me?”

James nodded. “C’mon. I know where to find Bruce.”

They found Bruce in the Alpha’s office as expected.

“You two are crazy.” Bruce huffed as he was putting away all the papers on the desk. “I am not a fan of this idea.”

“Bruce, we have our secrets too. Secrets that I could very easily tell Peggy right now.”

Bruce laughed. “Blackmail?”

“Not at all.” Peggy answered. “I’m going to know eventually anyway. Besides, anyone with half a brain, can figure out one of them involves the absence of your alpha.”

“Why? What have you heard about dad?” James looked at her.

“I get it. Pack business keeps alphas busy, but my brother and future Carter Alpha is sick and dying as we speak and my dad still found a few days to come here. So I could easily make an educated guess as to what is keeping Tony away right now.”

James and Bruce looked at each other.

“Yeah, I thought so.” Peggy pointed at Bruce defiantly. “You are going to forget to tell my dad that James is the new beta and his recently discovered brother is Stark Alpha.” She turned to James. “And you are going to instantly forgive me when I conveniently decide in a few days that I don’t want to mate with you.”

James nodded. “Yup. I’m good with that. Bruce?”

“Fuck.” Bruce sighed. “I hate being alpha. Steve can have it. I’ll even gift wrap it for him.”

“If you need anything, honey. Promise you’ll tell me. Ylva can get a message to me or Scott. We’ll take care of everything.”

“Dad, I’ll be fine. I promise.” Peggy hugged her father tightly the next morning before he left. “I had a long talk with James last night. It’ll take some getting used to, but I think I’ll fit in just fine.”

“Do you have any messages to relay to your brother?”

“You can tell him I love him, but I made sure to say my goodbyes before we left.”

Hank nodded at his daughter. “You surprise me every day with your courage and resilience. You are going to make a great Luna.”

“Thanks, dad.” Peggy smiled at him. She stood silently for a few moments watching him shift and run off into the woods towards home.

“You ok?” James came up behind her and touched her shoulder.

“Yeah.”

“Bruce sent me to find you. He’s asking for us.”

Peggy turned to look at James. “It’s time?”

“I think so.”

When Peggy and James arrived in the main meeting room of the pack house, the chairs surrounding the large table were already full. Bruce sat at the head, Steve to his immediate right with his face buried in his hands, Nick to his left, and lining the sides sat Nat, Ylva, Scott, the current Guard Major, Harold, and the pack Gamma Rhodes. James and Peggy each took a seat before Bruce stood and cleared his throat.

“I’m going to start with an apology to Scott. I can’t imagine how you are going to explain this to Hank, and if you need anything from me to make it an easier chore, please let me know.”

Scott’s head dropped. “Damn it.” He mumbled under his breath.

“Tony could not be here today.” Bruce continued. “Not because he is away on business, or whatever other excuse that I instructed Ylva to give you. He died several weeks ago from an injury sustained during a rescue of one of our pups on a hunting trip. We have been without an alpha since. Until yesterday.”

“What?” Harold leaned forward. “What is happening, Bruce?”

“Steve finally shifted during dinner last night. He will be the new alpha.” Bruce motioned over to Steve who was furiously rubbing his temples and gritting his teeth. A low growl could barely be heard coming from his throat.

“Who else knows?” Rhodes asked.

“This room.” Bruce replied.

“So not Hank.” Scott looked up at the group. “Why not Hank? Or did we already answer that. Could we answer that again?”

“I’ll get to that.” Bruce answered. “Right now we have another more pressing issue. Alpha Female. Normally, I would love to let Steve head this one up, but Tony was hellbent on making peace with the Carter Pack.”

“Bruce, don’t.” Nat whispered from the other end of the table, knowing that their link would allow him to hear her clearly.

Bruce looked up at his mate. “What do you propose then, Natasha?”

Nat stood slowly as all eyes turned in her direction. “I propose we let Peggy, Steve, and James make this decision. Look at them, Bruce. Just being in the same room causes them physical pain.”

Bruce looked over at Steve who was still hunched over in his chair and then to Peggy who was holding so tightly to her stomach that her knuckles were turning white. “You of all people should know what it feels like to be apart from your mate. Their wolves are fighting for their chance at love and security. Who are we to deny them?”

“James, what do you think?” Bruce asked.

“Why are we letting the children lead this meeting, exactly?” Rhodes interjected.

Steve jumped from his chair, his blue eyes flashing, and let out a roar that shook the windows. “I AM ALPHA AND MARGARET CARTER IS MINE!”

The room fell silent.

Scott instinctively moved to protect Peggy who had started shaking like the temperature in the room had dropped fifty degrees.

“It’s decided then.” Ylva said quietly. “Fenrir blesses this union.”

“Mother, take Peggy outside and wait for me on the porch.” Steve took a deep breath and waited patiently for them to follow orders. Only after they had closed the door behind them did he continue. “I realize that I am not going to jump right in as Stark Alpha. I was not trained to do so. However,” he took a heavy minute to stare menacingly at Rhodes and Harold. “James will be by my side as well as Bruce and Nick. I will not be doing this alone. I am also aware that trust and respect are earned. I will step up to the challenge and when I have proven myself, I will demand I be treated with the same respect and loyalty that you gave my father.”

Every person in the room stared open jawed at the new Stark Alpha as he turned and left.

“His father?” Rhodes asked. “Bruce, what on earth is he talking about?”

“Nat, you want to field this one? I have to go.” Bruce followed Steve out of the room as Nat let out a sigh.

Steve found Peggy cowering in the far corner of the front porch sobbing into the crook of her elbow as it held her drawn up knees in front of her. Ylva sat beside her rubbing her back and shushing quietly.

“Peggy?” Steve approached slowly.

“Careful, please son.” Ylva slowly stood to greet him. “You scared her.”

“Thanks, mom. You can go inside. I’ll take it from here.”

Ylva left while Steve sat down on the porch several feet away from Peggy. “Do you mind if I sit?”

She shook her head without looking up. Just sensing his presence calmed her a bit. She could tell his anger had subsided and worry had set in. She could smell his scent as it carried on the breeze. Her wolf had finally stopped her crying when Steve stood and made his announcement in the meeting room, and for the first time since her arrival, her stomach had stopped hurting.

“I’m sorry if I scared you. It wasn’t my intention. My wolf, just – “ he paused while he tried to find the right words. “He just refused to let anyone else near you. Not even Bucky.”

“Mine too.”

Steve almost didn’t hear her. Her voice was so small. He fought the urge to just scoop her up and take her back to his room. “Yours too?”

Peggy nodded and looked up at Steve. “She’s been asking for you since we got here. I tried to convince her that we had to mate James, but she refused.”

Steve smiled. “I’m glad.”

“Can you – um, can, I mean, do you mind if, uh – “ Peggy struggled to get her words out.

“Do you need a hug?”

Peggy nodded again and Steve held his arms out for her. She crawled into his lap and curled into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled into her hair. “Please don’t ever leave me.” She whispered.

“That’s funny.” Steve kissed the top of her head. “I was just about to say the same thing.”

They sat like that for a long time, not noticing that they had an audience.

“I’ve never seen her so comfortable around a male that wasn’t directly related to her.” Scott and Nat stood watching from the main window. “It doesn’t really matter what I tell Hank. If he could see this, he’d be satisfied.”

“Fenrir certainly does bless the union.” Nat replied.

Moon dividers borrowed from the gracious @saradika-graphics. Thank you for the use of your talent.

[divinewill]

Capítulo Diecinueve: インザバックルーム (In The Backroom)

My alter ego appeared within the impossible space behind the closet door, paused, and closed the door behind her.

“Where on earth is this place?” I asked him.

Kauākṣara explained, “This is nowhere on earth. This domain belongs to a metahuman. He instinctively replicated a spell from an old animated film, sans the monsters and their fear-mongering corporation. It bridges the space between doors presented here and on the human world. Open any of these doors, and you can cross through a corresponding doorframe somewhere on Earth.”

I observed a door beside mine and opened it to test his statement, and found a bathroom with a woman showering. She spoke in French, with a tone expecting a lover, and I closed the door. I noticed I could hear and smell what was behind the closed doors.

I asked him, “How did you find me so fast in this maze?”

Tapping his clawed index finger to his beak, he explained, “Each door transmits the sounds and smells behind them. I sought a door with your scent or voice. I found nothing with your voice, but I detected the faint trace of your current scent.”

This disturbed me and made me very glad that I had trained a nonlocal application of my summoning and banishment.

I asked him, “You said this place belongs to a metahuman. Who are they?”

Kauākṣara explained, with tremendous sobriety, “I cannot tell you that, just as I cannot tell anyone else of your true identity, of which I will not ask…”

He turned to walk and, using a gesture of his right hand, invited me to keep pace with him as he guided me through this labyrinthine array of hallways.

He continued, “To my dismay, this territory will not be open to us for much longer. For you see, our gentleman benefactor has terminal cancer and only six months to live by medical prediction. I suspect he will not make it to his third month. Despite my offer to help extend his life and take care of him, he adamantly believed that as an old soul, I shouldn’t waste my time with a young cripple. I told him he was talking nonsense, but he remained unmoved.”

With unshed tears in his eyes, he explained, “He told me to focus on witnessing history’s great cycles and the great men who shape them. I told him how the small stories, the ones nobody else will remember, hold equal significance. They shape the story of humanity, even if we can���t see how.”

I gave him my condolences, but he assured me, “Everyone dies eventually. Even I will die one day. It’s truly tragic for a young man to face death so vainly. I’d rather see him off with humility, for his soul’s sake.”

I assumed, by vanity, he was referring to the refusal of care by someone perceived as greater than oneself.

I asked him, “How old is he?”

He told me, “Counting from his conception, he would be exactly ten thousand days old in two hundred and seventeen days.”

I assured the creature, in their stoic self-control, “I’m sorry that you’re going through that, but I’ll pray for him, and if you believe in God, pray as well.”

He sighed, “I do, but prayer isn’t magic, and God does not answer all prayers…”

A mournful pause punctuated the moment.

He stated, “When he dies, we will lose access to this domain unless someone is on this side of the doorways. I’m going to miss his witticism, but enough of my troubles. On to the reason I invited you here…”

He asked me, “Why do you think I’ve brought you to this place?”

I noted, “You mean to tell me that this domain exists, and that we only have a limited window of opportunity to use it against the Yōma?”

He told me, “Not quite. I will do my best to ensure this domain remains open, as a memento to him, and for any heroic soul who needs it. Although I’m not sure this domain will be useful against the Yōma threat.”

We reached our destination several floors below, through a damaged door which led to an abandoned building that had been standing unmaintained for decades. He walked into this unknown territory, and I followed him, using my penetrating vision to discover that this was an abandoned metropolitan area in Australia. That’s when I realized Kauākṣara was leading me towards another, what I presumed was a nouiform, still a mile down the road, towards the center of the city.

It looked like a corgi-sized mouse with pangolin-like armor, powerful digging claws, rabbit-like ears, and a single spine at the end of its tail. It was cute a chimera. The creature clearly heard us coming, as shown by its ears tracking our movements, but it seemed unbothered.

My penetration vision showed me the entity’s hypercarnivorous teeth and skull, as well as unfamiliar organs with yet-to-be-determined functions without analogue in any known animal.

Kauākṣara noticed me visually lock onto the creature and deduced, “Ah, so you can see through walls and at great distance as well. You’ve probably deduced why we are here then.”

I guessed, “You wish to show me something regarding your kind?”

Kauākṣara, with a clear sense of vicarious pride, admitted, “Yes and no. I’d like to show you what a friendly bout between nouiformes looks like.”

I asked him, “How does this help us with the task at hand?”

Kauākṣara informed me, “Don’t you realize that your kindness to our sleeping friend has earned you an ally? He will fight for, and even die for, you. Also, while I abstain from bloodsports and mortal combat, I too will do what I can to help you defend the race of men that I love.”

As we approached our target, Kauākṣara warned me, “Princess … We nouiformes are incomplete beings. We need to seek other beings, unlike ourselves, and bond with them. When a nouiform finds a partner with a high enough compatibility, it results in a psychic bond: our partners can see through our eyes and they through ours. But this comes with a cost, as our companions will feel our pain and our rage, and we will feel theirs in return. To kill a nouiform with such a psychic tether is to kill their companion. The psychic trauma will destroy their nervous system long before the nouiform dies, but the reverse does not hold. Killing a nouiform’s companion will not kill it, but it will make them berserk.”

I asked him, “Killing human beings is out of the question for me. I am a peacekeeper, not a soldier or executioner.”

Kauākṣara informed me, “The companions of a nouiform are not always human. They can be any self-aware entity, including elephants, great apes, corvids, cetaceans, etc. The GSSDO has, on one occasion, discovered a nouiform bonded to a domestic cat, but upon testing, it showed self-recognize in a live video feed.”

I asked him, “You’ve worked with the GSSDO?”

He confessed, “Sort of. I developed a bond with the child of one of its members back during the Global War on Terror when they made the discovery in question. I was not their first encounter with my kind, but they treated me well and I taught them many things.”

Akhbar noticed that we were approaching another nouiform, raising its head and perking up its ears. Kauākṣara calmed the creature with a head pat. Akhbar stayed on their perch, sniffing the air for information, and remained alert until we entered the backyard of the abandoned house. The novel creature opened its eyes, looking towards us.

Kauākṣara appeared to initiate and moderate the contact between the bestial nouiformes. They negotiated the situation inhumanly, agreed to a mere test of mettle, and Akhbar jumped to the ground. Two creatures’ eyes locked, Kauākṣara warned me to step back. A click from his closed beak signaled the fight’s start.

Akhbar, in a fraction of a second, accelerated to Mach 2 and tackled the creature. Brutally dragging it through the fences and walls of five houses, two of which collapsed because of their primary supports being turned into shrapnel. The new creature broke from Akhbar’s control and threw them a distance of 300 meters. This creature slammed its left paw down, exploded the ground beneath it and caused an earthquake that shattered the immediate surroundings and shook a tremendous distance. Moving our foundation and compromising my footing, so I leaped 500 m into the air.

I saw this earthshaking violently uproot the foundations of and collapse all the houses and skyscrapers in this ghost town. Judging by the sound, feeling, and damage to buildings, as well as how it destabilized my footing, I estimated it to be an 8.5 on the Richter scale.

Akhbar, fighting to regain stability, unleashed a particle beam of Čerenkov radiation that effortlessly sliced through the ground, buildings, and abandoned vehicles as though they were air. A crack-like thunder accompanied the flash of light and blinding brightness of ionized air.

The other creature, experienced with earthquakes, used the unstable footing to its advantage, racing around Akhbar in a giant half-oval before attempting to ambush them. It vomited out a gallon of a napalm-like compound burning at a heat of 9 gigajoules, causing a massive self-oxidizing conflagration, which missed Akhbar.

Unknown to me, Akhbar could levitate and fly. The sound barrier breaking shockwave stunned the novel creature, but not before it could dodge Akhbar’s beam attack and throw a brick at escape velocity as a counterattack. I found it difficult to determine whether the creature was dodging the Čerenkov radiation itself or was aim dodging with startling proficiency.

Once grounded, I told Kauākṣara, “This is insane! We have to stop them!”

Kauākṣara advised me, “They’re competitive, but they won’t kill each other. Chyūn Sāan Gaap, has been my friend for over fifty years, and it seems these two already knew each other as well. Though, if you’re concerned about human casualties, no one’s here. I checked before we started this fight.”

At some point, the new creature burrowed underground, to avoid Akhbar tracking it. Hidden by the earth, the creature unleashed a VEI-3-like eruption, hurling molten debris towards Akhbar. In response, Akhbar instinctively curled up and formed an invisible sphere as a protective shield.

Kauākṣara altered the weather, turning the cloudless and sunny day into a rainy day. This interference immediately ended the match. Akhbar descended to the ground unharmed and returned to us with the demeanor of an annoyed cat, climbed up on me and took a nap upon my shoulders. Chyūn Sāan Gaap, on the other hand, exited from their hole and returned to Kauākṣara with the disposition of an annoyed golden retriever.

The degree of casual power displayed, even by Kauākṣara himself, horrified me. Moreso from Akhbar, who only weighed 6 kg (13.2 lbs), and Chyūn Sāan Gaap, who looked like they weighed 12 kg (26.5 lbs).

We conversed briefly in an abandoned house. He allowed the heavy rain, which was falling at a rate of 10 mm per hour, to persist for 10 minutes. Then, he dispersed the rain clouds, bringing back the sunny day. Akhbar sleeping on my shoulders like a pet monkey, and Chyūn Sāan Gaap sleeping at my feet like a dog. During the downpour, I asked him why they stopped so suddenly, and Kauākṣara revealed that his interference disrupted the point of the fight. To see who was more powerful.

Kauākṣara confessed, “My friend has shown me your adventures in Japan and your activities in America. You’ve witnessed the danger even limited metahuman powers can pose, as well as the danger presented by the kaijū. I believe it’s important for you to know the threat we also pose as well.”

Kauākṣara explained, “Nouiformes are more dangerous than most metahumans are. Our capacities for regeneration and matter manipulation are frightful indeed… And we can continue to fight with injuries that would quickly kill any animal…”

I asked him, “Like what?”

Kauākṣara confessed, “I have seen disemboweled nouiformes, with a broken spine, and shattered skull, go on to raze whole forests. We get more dangerous the closer to death we are, and the closer to death we survive, the stronger we get.”

I asked him, “Then how do we kill nouiformes?”

He explained, “Complete evisceration is the only surefire way to kill us. Given our durability and regeneration abilities, this is no simple task. Nothing short of getting sucked into the most powerful turbines could hope to accomplish this to even the weakest of us.”

I asked him, “I’ve seen metahumans do great things with their powers, both villainous and heroic. How can we reach out to noble nouiformes and the nouiform-bonded to serve and protect as well?”

Kauākṣara told me, “Some already have. Did you not hear of the pygmy-descended fellow with the giant bird in the GSSDO? He was a nouiform tamer, and the bird was his nouiform. Yet, there’s an undisclosed aspect of our nature that you must know.”

I asked him, “Continue?”

That’s when Kauākṣara revealed the horrifying truth: “We nouiformes are cannibalistic and anthropophagic. Without a bond to one of noble disposition or a personal transformation, we consume each other and the humans bonded to our prey. To us, cannibalism and anthropophagy are a means of becoming stronger. It is likely that under the previous attachment, your newfound friend here ate people, even if only the partners to rival nouiformes. Although now that he has attached himself to you, there is already a change in his apparent disposition. For transparency, the last time I ate a human being was around fifteen hundred years ago. I ceased this practice after forming a bond with a sage of the Dvaita and Nyāya-Vaiśeṣika-darśana.”

This admission shocked me. He analogized his revelation to the biblical command to confess our sins to each other.

“Think of this as my confession,” he explained, “so you can better understand what I am and why I won’t fight as our friends here…”

I experienced an awkward pause where I couldn’t think of anything to say. So, Kauākṣara redirected me to another important topic, “You know, our friend here needs a new name.”

He motioned to Akhbar and explained, “A new name to mark a transformation in mission and ends, don’t you think?”

I agreed, “I suppose so?”

He advised me, “Well, daughter of Adam, since they chose you, I think it should be you who chooses their new name. Consider what you want for your new friend.”

Kauākṣara gently patted Akhbar, who remained asleep.

To avoid disrupting Kauākṣara’s series of revelations, I refrained from mentioning something that had been bothering me. Although I suspect he noticed, he chose not to inquire further, likely out of courtesy. The entire time I was here, despite my penetrating vision seeing no signs of human life, I could nevertheless hear what sounded to be human whispers. Whispers whose content was indecipherable, but whose melancholic disposition was obvious.

At the end of our conversation, I noted that our way home was gone. Kauākṣara apologized but believed I could find my way back with my speed and navigation prowess.

Just before I attempted to call myself back to me, Kauākṣara reported, “One more thing before you depart, Princess. Those girls were not sufficiently skilled to pose any kind of threat to me, and they’re not prepared to fight any kind of eldritch threat.”

I asked him, “You met those girls who contacted me?”

He told me, “Yes. They failed an ambush against me yesterday. I am not sure how they could track me down, but I doubt they will be willing to co-operate with me. So, uncovering what is afoot on their end is on you. I’d suggest, if possible, contacting the girls and feigning submission to their request. I will investigate the Eldritch threat on my side as well. I have some ideas but need to research further to narrow possibilities.”

I smiled at this gentle soul and told him, extending my hand for a fist bump, which was reciprocated, “Godspeed with your investigation, Kauākŝara.”

At that moment, I was still unaware of my mispronunciation of his name.

He didn’t mind and said, “I’ll keep you in the loop and in my prayers.” Let’s keep your home safe.”

New Providence, New Hampshire, wasn’t quite my home yet, but it had grown on me for the past year. Even so, I was determined to protect it as if it were my home.

I attempted to call myself back to me, and to my surprise, all the way from an Australian ghost town, it worked.