#while simultaneously making him feel special and powerful

[saintsenara]

Bellatrix/fenrir greyback

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

i really back this, actually. not because i think it would be healthy, but because it would have a really compelling power dynamic and would be such a mess.

which is to say, greyback occupies an interesting position in the death eater hierarchy.

he's special. his lycanthropy, no matter its broader societal perception, means that he's a ready-made weapon. his influence among werewolf communities makes him much more integral to voldemort's political outreach to werewolves than any of the death eaters are to his political outreach to wizards.

but he's also isolated. he's allowed to wear death eater robes - clearly at voldemort's discretion - but he doesn't have a dark mark [and voldemort doesn't appear to have any intention of even pretending to him that he intends to imminently grant him one]. he's excluded from the network of relationships which link the other [male] death eaters - that they went to school together, that they're related by blood, marriage, or both.

his position in the organisation therefore depends entirely on voldemort's goodwill.

we can get a hint of how this influences his behaviour in canon. he clearly trades on his personal relationship to voldemort as a way of maintaining his authority over the gang of snatchers he's responsible for - and he's clearly worried that they'll discover his stock with the dark lord isn’t quite as good as he claims. he has no qualms about threatening lucius and narcissa malfoy in deathly hallows - a man who has fallen so far from voldemort’s favour he's basically chilling in the earth’s core - but he is deferential to bellatrix, who retains her claim to be someone voldemort would be angry to see disrespected.

and the interesting thing is - of course - just how similar this position is to bellatrix's own.

it's striking that the two death eaters of whom voldemort is fondest - bellatrix and snape - are his "exceptions" from the standard demographic profile of his minions. snape is his exception among the core death eaters in terms of social class. bellatrix is his exception in terms of gender [alecto carrow's last-minute addition to the series aside].

and so the dark lord's affection for either of them shouldn't surprise us - the fact of their exceptionality means they depend completely on him and his goodwill, both in a relationship and outside it.

and the fact of their closeness to voldemort means that the other death eaters are also interested in getting in their good books, in the hope that they'll be able to influence voldemort in their favour.

[think of the way travers acts towards "bellatrix" in deathly hallows, for example.]

i think there's something so interesting about the idea of greyback putting the move on bella as a simultaneous attempt to:

a. increase his status in voldemort's eyes by getting her to talk him up.

b. reduce her status in voldemort's eyes by getting her to engage in an act - sex with a werewolf - which voldemort canonically regards as race-treason [and also, if he knows about her and voldemort's relationship, by getting her to cheat on the dark lord].

bellatrix, for her part, would go along with it as a way of bolstering her status. as i've said, greyback is canonically deferential to her in a way he isn't to either lucius or narcissa, and this gives her a boost at a time when voldemort has drastically reduced her status by having her stay at malfoy manor with her disgraced sister and brother-in-law.

[and she must also be feeling a bit nervy about the gender politics of the regime when voldemort is victorious. he doesn't let her anywhere near the ministry, for example, and i think there's a credible claim that she's the main loser in terms of visible influence if the war ends differently.]

so they're each trying to undermine the other, all the while ruining draco's life by forcing him to listen to a man he's absolutely fucking terrified of banging his aunt's headboard against the wall each night.

it's incredibly messy - and this makes it thrilling.

[cicadaknight]

bless all the fic writers running with the subtext that tekotteh was a blatantly manipulative shithead to kotallo long before he sent him to the kulrut

[rcmclachlan]

Return of the Mack

For @alchemistc. Hope you feel better soon!

At the fire academy, three things are beaten out of every trainee: fear, a normal sleep schedule, and the social influences that prevent one from intervening in the event of an emergency. Some have jokingly called the third one the Anti-Bystander Effect, because if someone needs assistance—whether it's to stop an assault, run into a burning building, or help a little old lady find a quarter she dropped—a firefighter will immediately rush in to save the day. It's a special brand of classical conditioning that instills an elevated sense of responsibility in every trainee, and it's paid in full by the state of California.

Which is why it's so odd for there to be three capable firefighters standing around doing nothing while there's an old man clearly in need of dire assistance. If the LAFD higher-ups knew they were actively choosing to watch the carnage unfold instead of lifting a finger to help, they'd all be shitcanned. 

Luckily, there's a fourth firefighter on the scene doing the absolute most. 

"I thought we made a pact to keep him from using his powers for evil," Eddie says, taking a dispassionate sip of his coffee. 

"Is it evil if he's actually using them in service of a greater good?" Hen's attention is half on what's going down and half on the Notes app on her phone, where she's typing out the week's grocery list. "You know, the enemy of my enemy is my friend?"

Draped over the railing like his bones have melted, Chimney gives a sage nod. "He's like a one-man Suicide Squad." 

In the apparatus bay, they watch as Vincent Gerrard uses the distraction of B Shift heading home to duck behind one of the engines, most likely to regroup after being thoroughly ambushed the second he stepped into the station five minutes ago. He slumps back and breathes. The moment of weakness costs him: a grinning demon rounds the corner and makes a bee-line for him as though he can taste blood in the air.

"So, which one of you said 'spreadsheet' three times in a mirror?" Ravi sidles up next to Chimney and unwraps a breakfast burrito from Delia's. 

Chimney gives him the stink-eye. "I hope you brought enough for the whole class."

"Nope," Ravi says, taking a cheerful bite.

"None of us summoned him," Eddie says. He leans down to try and catch the conversation being had, but he's too high up. For a second, he thinks he hears the words 'crack whore' but it's probably a trick of the bay's acoustics. "He's everywhere, always, just watching and waiting for you to slip up. Like God."

"Or the Devil," Hen says in agreement.

"Or Santa," Chimney adds.

Ravi chews thoughtfully. "I thought we threw out all the clipboards. Who gave him that one?"

"Tommy," Eddie, Hen, and Chimney say through a simultaneous, long-suffering sigh. 

It's not just any clipboard. It's the king of clipboards. It's the only clipboard that has ever fucked. The thing is a navy blue polycarbonate beast with "Buckley 118" embossed in fire engine red on the back, and the clip looks like it was forged in the fires of Staples HQ. 

At the bi-weekly Beer and Bitch Night last Friday at Golden Road Pub, Tommy had pulled it out of a bag and presented it on one knee like he was proposing, or bestowing a sword to a king. The entire brewery was then given front-row seats to an intense game of tonsil hockey that nearly went into overtime until Eddie threatened to call Athena because Bobby looked like he was seriously reconsidering sobriety.

"Does he know what he's unleashed?" Ravi sounds genuinely curious. 

As if on cue, Chimney's, Eddie's, and Hen's phones chime with three incoming messages. 

T.K. 07:26am: Has it started? T.K. 07:26am: Remember: you promised one of you would film it T.K. 07:27am: I'm offering 3 nights of free babysitting to the first person who delivers

That last one is followed by a gif of J. Jonah Jameson shouting "Bring me Spiderman!"

Hen frowns down at her phone. "Who the hell is that?"

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Chimney mutters.

H.W. 07:28am: Why are you so desperate for video?  E.D. 07:28am: What 40-something year old still pinky swears? H.H. 07:28am: Clipboard Buck better not be a weird sex thing for you, Kinard

Tommy's typing indicator appears, then disappears. Then appears and disappears again. Then appears—

"Yeah, no." Chimney hastily pockets his phone. "Those two were made in a lab for each other, I swear to god."

Down in the bay, Gerrard has moved to stand almost directly underneath them. While they can't hear what Gerrard says to Melanie Wu, an electrician so talented she could probably take down the entire grid with her eyes closed, that puts such a dour expression on her face, they can hear it when Buck, popping up behind Gerrard like an insane Jack-in-the-box, says, "Don't worry, Melanie! This is something to bring up during Thursday's workplace conflict seminar."

"What seminar?!"

Buck isn't cowed. He taps his clipboard and says, "The one I scheduled with Chief Alonso. You know, the mandatory one we all need to do in order to keep our certification—well, we'll keep it as long as nothing comes up during the seminar that might call into question our ability to do the job."

There's a charged moment where it almost looks like Gerrard might take a swing at Buck, but then he notices the audience hanging above him like a Greek chorus and shouts, "Someone'd better top off the fuel and DEF or—"

"Already done, Cap." Buck makes a show of turning to the second page on his clipboard and lists off, "All fuel, DEF, oil, and coolant are set. Tires have been aired up. Hoses have been drained and cleaned, and re-rolled. Engines were all waxed yesterday, all medical supplies have been inventoried and stocked, and I've made a list of the harnesses and cutting torches that need replacing. Just need you to sign off on everything. Sir."

The ingratiating smile on Buck's face would fool even the wiliest of senior officers, and Gerrard himself looks like even he's not sure if what just happened was disrespectful, but they know better. 

"Diabolical," Ravi whispers, awed. 

Hissing through his teeth, Gerrard spins on his heel and storms away in the direction of the little office in the administrative section of the firehouse where he's taken to holing up like a miserable groundhog until they get a call that forces him back out. If he sees his shadow on the firehouse wall, it's six more hours of bullshit.

As soon as he's gone, all the firefighters that had stopped to watch the show burst into laughter and applause, and Buck cracks up, taking sweeping bows and blowing kisses to his adoring fans. 

Chimney rolls his eyes and looks to see what Hen's expression is doing, because no one gives good face like she does, but she's holding her phone in a way that clearly means—

"You're filming this?" Chimney demands, betrayed.

She gives an unrepentant shrug. "Three nights of free babysitting? I'm not proud."

"You do know this means Buck's going to get laid and be absolutely insufferable about it, right?"

"Three nights," Hen bites out through very audible regret.

Buck looks up, flashes a grin, and the second he clocks the phone he salutes it with the clipboard. Then he struts after Gerrard, calling almost lazily, "Cap, wait up! I wanted to talk about setting up a mock exam for everyone who's planning on taking the TCFP D/O!"

They all watch him go. Silently, Hen sends off the video with the air of someone about to make a drug drop. 

"So, when does Taylor Kelly's exposé come out again?" Eddie makes a dubious face in the direction of the administrative offices. "Because I don't know that Gerrard won't off himself before it does."

"We win either way," Chimney points out. 

"It comes out next Monday," Hen says, slipping her phone into her pocket and elbowing Chimney in the arm on her way to the stairs. "Karen and I are hosting a watch party that night and you're all invited."

Ravi beams. "Thanks, Hen. I'll definitely be there."

"And you'll be bringing dinner from Taco Azteca—for everybody. Make sure you get enough carne," Chimney calls over his shoulder as he follows Hen. 

"I'm not a probie anymore," Ravi whines. "You can't haze me like this."

Snickering, Eddie pats him on the shoulder and says, "You do this and I'll make sure you're not sitting anywhere near Buck and Tommy when Taylor drops the bomb about Gerrard and Ortiz."

"Extra al pastor and buche it is!"

[ldysmfrst]

American Mate (14) - Does it Always End in Ruin?

Paring: Hybrid!BTS Ot7 x Plus-sized Human FemReader

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 14 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 10,980

Work count for Story: 107,440

Genre: Hybrid Playmate Au inspired by works created by @yoongiofmine

A little about the author: I am a mother of two beautiful children, one of whom has special needs, and the other loves everyone. I started a Patreon, and I would be grateful if you donated to help me make ends meet while I am out of work because I almost died in August of 2024.

Warnings: NOT BETA READ!! This chapter does have pack dynamics, Alphas fronting, a scenting session with hints of a panic attack, comfort, possessiveness, angst, and mentions of giving aphrodisiac-laced chocolates to Jungkook without his knowledge. There are also nightmares containing mentions of past trauma, violence, abuse, and threats of death.

BTS HYBRID ANIMAL TYPES: Seokjin - Roan Ferret, Yoongi - Black Jaguar, Hoseok - Marten, Namjoon - Alaskan Timber Wolf, Jimin - Red Panda, Taehyung - White Southwest African Tiger, Jungkook - Flemish Giant Rabbit

AMERICAN MATE MASTER LIST / LDYSMFRST MASTER LIST

You can scent me in the car.

You… can… scent… me… in… the… car…

It’s not like he is gonna do anything untoward– right?

Your body flushes with thoughts of the many ways the scenting session could go “wrong,” like pinning you in the corner against the door and backseat, ravishing your neck in a way that ensures you have a mark that anyone can see.

Following the hyper-focused Prime Alpha of Bangtan Pack to allow him to scent you in a car like you both were some horny teenagers with no control makes the walk through the Gala a blur.  

With how firmly Namjoon holds your hand and guides you with determination, you aren’t the only one feeling it, right?

But what would the rest of the pack think? 

Your mind was going from things that were not safe for work while simultaneously trying to throw on the breaks.

You were too much in your head battling away the thoughts you shouldn’t be having for a mated man, much less a mated man at a public event with other hybrids that you were 100000000% could smell just what you were thinking of. 

MATED MAN!

Your mind is yelling at you, coming through like a spotty radio, while your body is thrumming with the charged atmosphere that now encapsulates the two of you.

You could be making this up and reading into things too much. You did that in high school, which is why you started shying away from skinship. Who wouldn’t after getting humiliated day in and day out about being an attention-seeking fat whore in the cafeteria with no help from the staff?

Whatever, back to the issue at hand. He has mates waiting for him to come home. You should excuse yourself to the bathroom and call one of them. 

Jin would be a good phone call, and he is the oldest. 

Then there is Yoongi, who is almost powerful enough to be the Prime himself. 

Taehyung is supposed to be helping right now; maybe he… he can… Agh! What teleport to the Gala and leave with Namjoon instead of you?

No, you already let Jimin’s Alpha scent you at your packhouse. Jin, Yoongi, and Jungkook intentionally scented you, with permission, in your current bedroom, which means Namjoon should be able to scent you in a car. 

They all have said they want skinship, and you said you would be willing to try. Now get it together, woman!

Besides, you told Hoseok that everyone deserves a second chance. This is Namjoon’s second chance. You have never turned away someone in need before, and clearly, whatever Lee Min Ho did triggered Alpha Joon to come out, and he needs the scenting session to calm down. 

You were their Playmate, which meant supporting the emotional needs of your assigned hybrid(s) was also part of your job.

The next thing you feel is Namjoon letting go of your hand, which brings you out of your internal argument as he drapes your cape over your shoulders. You watch him as he secures the closure and fusses with it to make sure it is lying correctly.

You are searching for anything to tell you exactly where he is with any of this. You notice the rigid set of his jaw, which hasn’t relaxed since you saw him at the start of the dance with Min Ho. His breaths are almost a perfect count of seven in and seven out, which means he is doing that for a reason. 

When he looks at you again, those forest green eyes are dark and piercing. It’s like time freezes; unlike his even breaths, yours seems to be caught. You can see so many emotions moving behind those eyes, but they are flashing so fast, and you don’t know him well enough to tell what they are before they are gone. 

“Prime Alpha, sir, ma’am, your car is here,” says Jen. Startling you like she came out of thin air. Smiling at Jen and moving towards the car, you hear Namjoon speak with her in hushed tones. 

Now that you can breathe again, you take some cleansing breaths before you climb into the car and buckle up. Scenting is simple. It doesn’t have to be extravagant. 

You are in a car, for god’s sake. 

As you smooth out your skirt, Namjoon gets in on the other side of the car. Careful not to touch you, he turns to face you, his calculating eyes searching your form. You can hear Jen get in the front, but the partition is up.

Licking your lips out of nerves, you hear a low growl next to you. Suddenly, the world outside the car looks fantastic as the car starts the drive back. 

“Y/n.”

Hearing your name said in Alpha Joon’s deepened voice causes your heart to flutter and your eyes to close. You said scenting was okay, and YOU offered to do it in the car. You weren’t raised to go back on your word, nor have you ever left someone in need. 

Since Namjoon is a temporary pack for you, you couldn’t deny a packmate a scenting session. It must be the Luna part of you that wouldn’t let you.

“Alpha,” you breathe out, finally looking at him. 

The stillness in his body and the focus of his attention is something that only a predator hybrid like him can have. It almost pains you to see him so closed off and far away.

“Bergamot and sugar waves,” he says with a slight tilting of his head. “You want scenting but scared of me.”

At his words, you realize just what you have had to have been putting him through while walking from the dance floor til now. Your scent must have been a swirling chaos. 

“Not exactly, Alpha,” you vaguely answer the nonexisting question. “I am not scared of you.” 

While his shoulders drop as his tense leaves his body, his eyes narrow in further contemplation. “What of?”

“None of it is something you have to worry about, Alpha,” you smile, trying to convey that you are physically fine even if your scent says otherwise. 

“Mine,” Alpha Joon says, closing his eyes, tilting his head back and swallowing. “Worry for mine is my job. Now, what of?”

Mine. Mine. He keeps calling you “mine,” which sends a shiver down your spine every time he says it. You take a moment to gather your thoughts. You want to not fall into the delusion that you are his, but you want to not argue with someone as powerful as a Prime Alpha. 

“I don’t know how to give you what you need,” you answer his question in the most roundabout but truthful way possible. Your answer seems to bring his attention back to you, but it is laced with confusion this time. 

“Jungkook scents with his chin, Yoongi scents with his cheeks, but Jin and Jimin seem to do it with touching. I don’t know what you need.”

Realization dawns on his face. You can practically see the times the two of you have been near each other flash in his mind’s eye before his face falls into a pout. 

You can’t help but giggle at his pouty face, which draws his attention to you again, and he pouts harder. 

“I am sorry, Alpha,” you say, then clear your throat. “I, ah, thought that there might be a certain way a Prime Alpha or a wolf may need to scent. I am still wrapping my head around all the different ways. As a Luna, I was typically the one scenting the others.”

“Wolf scenting wrist and licks,” Alpha Joon says, looking down at his own wrists.

“Oh! Jin licked me!” you exclaim. “Well, he licked then bit me,” you continued, looking at the inside of your wrist to see if there was a mark. 

Rubbing over the area where Seokjin licked fills the air with more of your scent. The bergamot is still present but lessened, alerting Alpha Joon that you are starting to relax into the present. 

Moving slowly, telegraphing his goal, Alpha Joon takes hold of the hand you were inspecting. He rubs your wrists together with his free hand, causing his leather and vanilla to join in the mix. 

He can tell when his scent hits you because your whole body loses its tension. The hand he is holding becomes weightier in his grip. A soft smile plays on his lips with pride that you are not rejecting his skinship, scent, or bond.

“Wolves satisfied with this. Alphas need more. It’s our nature.”

“Alphas? Or Prime Alphas?” You swallow before also asking, “More how?”

His eyes trail up your arm, and it feels like fire is licking your skin. They still at the juncture of your neck and shoulder before continuing, pausing along your jaw, then settling their journey when they lock with yours.

“Alphas prefer other areas. Only ours allow intimate,” says Alpha Joon.

Heat flashes through your body and pools low in your abdomen with the memory of Alpha Kook and his ministrations to your neck. 

Breaking eye contact, you blush as you say, “I see. It makes sense.”

“Prime Alpha, more demanding. Add threat of taking mine,” Alpha Joon growls out. 

Your eyes snap back to him with a furrowed brow as you question, “Taken from you? No one in their right mind would do that right now, would they?”

“Bobat try tonight.”

Oh. OH, that is right. This whole scenting thing was because Lee Min Ho danced with you. You mentally smack your forehead against a wall. 

“Min Ho, he would not actually do anything. He was just being a good sport and dancing with me,” you try to brush off his concern.

“No,” he says sternly. “Friends with Tae-ah. Must be nice. Bobcat natural wolf enemy.”

This information, combined with the newly understood gravity of the game Lee Min Ho was playing with Namjoon while using you as the pawn, changes everything. 

Your scent changes from the bergamot of fear to the mint of anger, distinguished by the look on your face and the clench of your jaw. 

“Mad now?” Alpha Joon says, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice. The change in your demeanor shows him that you, at best, want to be his and, at least, don't want others to play around like that.

“Yes, I am mad now. How can someone do that to you?” you say with an attitude-driven shake of your head.

Your response wasn’t what he was expecting. He wasn’t quite sure how to take it. He wanted to be proud because his newest mate was looking out for him, but she wasn’t necessarily looking out for herself.

“Wonder what Taehyung will think of his friend’s actions. I don’t think he will like them, but that is to be dealt with later,” you say with resolve. 

Looking back at the man beside you, the resolve shows as your scent changes, yet again, with a hint of lemon: “What do you need to fix what he has done?”

“Cover.”

“Cover? I thought you said he didn’t leave anything?” you press, leaning forward, trying to figure out what he needs to feel like his personal world is safe again. “Tell me, Alpha. What exactly will you cover?”

The direct question of a dominant feeling mate has Alpha Joon squirming a little. 

He wants to put you in your place as Prime Alpha, show you, and not tell you what he needs. He also wants to kneel at your feet and let you lean into your Luna so that he can let go of the tension he is holding because he trusts you to care for him. 

The dominant leader versus the submissive lover. Maybe he can be both?

“Cover his touch,” Alpha Joon clarifies. A flash of shock or fear or nerves flash across your face as he continues, “I saw some, not all.”

“Oh, I see.” Thinking of all the places the sneaky bobcat touched, your hand pulls out of Alph Joon’s as you say, “That is going to be hard to do in a car. That and you don’t know how to tango, Alpha.”

Quickly, Alpha Joon shakes his head, “No dancing. Only scenting touch.” He looks around the back of the car, thinking of how to put what he has to say.

“Dress scented at Gala,” he says with a slight hilt to his voice. You nod, trying to follow along with him. 

His eyes flick between your neck and thigh, “Now skin scent happen.”

It’s like you get doused with water and lit on fire simultaneously. Touching like one does in the Tango feels astronomically different when the same touch is done while not dancing. 

There is no way that you will not vibrate out of your own skin and panic if Alpha Joon continues to look at you like prey while touching you in all the places Lee Min Ho did. 

You will lose yourself and not in a good way. 

What did your therapist Ryan say to do when this happens? What would Derek and Evie say to do?

Control it. 

Take the reins and drive the motions. 

Find ways to grant permission for the next step, next touch, and next level of scenting, but will a Prime Alpha accept that? 

Can you control a Prime Alpha?

“Overthinking,” Alpha Joon interrupts your thoughts. 

“Sorry, Alpha.” 

Taking a breath, you calm your thoughts and focus on the you who can be in charge of hybrids. The you that allows your family pack to feel safe and cared for. The you that loves hybrids more than most humans. 

“Luna,” Alpha Joon states when your sweet pea, bergamot, and vanilla scent starts to weave in the car with a tang of lemon. 

“Yes, you may call me that. I won’t go back on my word. I will allow you, Alpha Joon, to calm yourself and settle your instincts by scenting my skin,” you inform him.

Smiling, the Alpha makes to pull you to him. However, you stop him with a single click of your tongue. Unbuckling yourself, you unclasp your cape and angle your body toward him. 

“Do we have an understanding, Alpha Joon? If not, you will have to wait until the pack can help settle you.”

Shaking his head almost violently, his eyes widen in panic at the thought of you not being the one to settle him. Rubbing his palms on his pants, he looks away from your eyes and turns slightly to show his neck. 

He is submitting to you. It's not a complete submission. Still, it’s a step that makes you feel safe and allows you to be bold enough to keep going.

Taking his hands in yours, you squeeze them in reassurance.

Shifting to the middle seat, the split in your dress widens. Flashing skin from your mid-thigh down, which draws his attention. It’s the same leg, the thigh and knee, where the bobcat held you in the dip as he trailed his nose along your skin at the neck.

“Eyes on me, Alpha,” you command, snapping his attention back to your face. 

“Min Ho held me in a classic hold, starting with a hand on my upper back while cradling my braced hand in his,” you inform as you slide your hand up his arm to his shoulder. “You may hold me that way as well.”

You had thought the Alpha would jump with permission to touch you. This is where you were mistaken. You may be calling the shots, but he was and is a Prime Alpha. 

Changing his grip on your braced wrist, he brings it up like he remembered from watching you. Slowly, his other hand reaches your side and slides around your waist to trail up your spine, then rests between your shoulder blades. The movement brings your body closer to him. 

You wait.

Nothing happens.

You smile gently. “Good Alpha, you are following directions,” you praise him before you lean forward, entering his personal space even more. 

“Classic Tango steps don’t have as much body contact as one would think. It’s all about flashy steps with kicks and flicks. But Lee Min Ho told me he was putting on a show, and that changes things.”

Alpha Joon's voice is confused as he tries to hold you just as instructed, but you keep coming closer. Your scent is invading. Mixing his scent with yours settles something profound within Alpha Joon’s soul. 

The words ‘keep in control’ repeat in your mind, almost creating their own tune as you try to maneuver yourself into the next hold used by the bobcat. As you lean in, you run your arm back down Alpha Joon’s and push it against the seat's backrest.

“Don’t move,” you instruct him.

“Yes, Luna,” he agrees, hinting a slight rumble. You pause momentarily, waiting to see if that rumble becomes something more. You continue when nothing happens, and his eyes remain on your face. 

Shifting to an angle facing you away from a whimper sounds but is cut off quickly. Glancing back up at the Alpha, his cheeks are dusted pink. It seems the Prime Alpha shocked himself with that sound.  

Now, you are sitting with your back to his front but not touching. 

You clasp his free hand in yours and lock your fingers with his. Your braced hand grabs the wrist against the seat and guides it to your stomach. 

Thank heavens that he cannot see your face now. 

Maintaining your posture is one thing, but not reacting to the heat emanating from him while his hand softly glides into place over your dress is not something you can control. 

It feels nerve-racking, but in the best of ways. Wait…what is going on with you? You shouldn’t be reacting like this. He is mated. You didn’t act like this with Jin, did you? 

You know what it is… it’s because of this morning. That’s right, with the shirtlessness, the feeding, the nesting room, all the suits… it’s that. 

There is nothing wrong with you. 

Nada.

You just happen to be stuck in a packhouse with wildly attractive hybrid younger men who know they can make almost every woman, even some men, creme their jeans with a savvy smile.

They are just flirty, like Derek and Lily. 

That’s all.

“Wrong,” a deep voice comes close to your ear as you are pulled backward, making your body fall against the wolf behind you and stealing your breath. “Hold like this, he did.”

“Yes, that is correct, Alpha Joon,” you agree with your eyes closed. His firm chest against your back has a warmth that is encompassing you. 

Your control of the situation is slipping; maybe you never had control in the first place. 

“Next touch, Luna?” he asks with his breath brushing your skin. 

Right next touch… next touch… what was next. Oh. Your eyes open and dart to your knee. Min Ho took you into a dip with his hand on your thigh near your knee. 

Well, there are two ways to do this. Robotically and cold or intimately and warm. Again, it’s about keeping control.

“I don’t know, Alpha. Can you be good and follow directions, or will you move Luna as you wish, like you just did?” you question.

Almost immediately, Alpha Joon tries to retreat but has nowhere to go. You are still holding his wrist and interlacing your fingers. He has become trapped between you and the door. 

“Ah, uhah! Words, Alpha Joon,” you chid softly.

“Sorry, Luna. No more. I will follow.”

“Good, now only touch where I guide you, got it?”

“Yes, Luna.”

Leaning against him more, you bring your knee up through the slit in the dress. Breathe in and out, staying in control. Covering the hand on your stomach with your braced hand, you tap it twice and move back towards your waist. 

You smile when his hand moves to stay under yours. 

Once at your waist, you slide both of your hands down to your hip and over the top of your thigh– slowly. Basking in the warmth of his hand over the dress felt terrific, but you practically melted when the heat of his hand graced your bare skin. 

Your body automatically responds in a blanket of goosebumps and a pool of dampness between your legs. It’s tantalizing and something you haven’t felt in years. 

Behind you, a soft, almost growling purr kicks up in Alpha Joon’s chest at being able to feel you without a barrier. 

You continue to guide his hand to the bend of your knee, and as firmly as you can, you say, “Min Ho sent me into a dip and secured me by holding my thigh near my knee.”

In a gravel-filled voice, Alpha Joon says, “I saw. May I?”

“Yes.”

Keeping the pace you had set, Alpha Joon’s hand slides out from under yours, farther down your leg and to the outer side. His fingers are splayed out as they clasp under your thigh at the back of your knee and squeeze. 

You, luckily, were able to control your body from jerking at the electric zing of arousal that courses through your system like his is cupping and squeezing something much more private. 

However, luckily for the hybrid behind you, your scent flashed into a heady mix of sugar, sweet peas, and vanilla. 

If Alpha Joon hadn’t already been affected by the scenting up to this point, he was now, which was making his pants very uncomfortable. His mind reeling with thoughts of what you would smell like on a night of passion.

Buzz Buzz

A huff leaves the Alpha as he answers the intercom from Jen, “Yes, Jen?”

“Sorry to interrupt, Prime Alpha, but we have been sitting at the packhouse for a few minutes,” she says timidly. Clearing her throat, she said, “I don’t know if you wanted the others to know you are here, however, someone keeps peeking out one of the windows.”

“Thank you, Jen. We will head inside now,” Alpha Joon informs her, releasing his hold on your leg and letting go of your hand. A blush comes over you as you realize just how into the moment the two of you had become.

Alpha Joon exits the car as you return to your original side and put on the cape again. As you are reaching for the door, it opens. You smile at the gentlemanly act Alpha Joon is showing you.

Getting out of the car, you accept his hand to help you keep steady. Smiling, you turn to thank him, “Oh. Namjoon, Thank you. I take it Alpha Joon was satisfied with the scent and stopped fronting?”

Pulling you softly and guiding your hand to lock around his arm, he leads you towards the pack house. Shaking his head, he says, “Not exactly. We are in our territory now, and no one can take you from us here.”

“Ah, I see. I am sorry the scenting wasn’t enough. I promise I will learn more to improve,” you rapidly reply, your heart sinking at the thought that you failed to comfort the Prime Alpha. 

He stops at the front door, your words halting him. “You misunderstand, Angel. You were scenting and allowed our scenting just fine. However, due to arriving at the packhouse already, we could not complete the covering, and he, well we, didn’t think you would be comfortable enough to continue.”

“Couldn’t complete?” you question as you try to replay the dance. Your eyes widen when it hits you: “My neck. Wait, why would I not be comfortable after the whole car ride?”

“The packhouse is where it went downhill, and I could have lost you. I could have lost you for the pack. I don’t deserve your attention here, Luna,” answers Namjoon. 

Not once has he looked at you during his explanation. 

He is avoiding being himself because of that one misstep. You still haven’t forgiven him, but you aren’t mean-hearted. It may take a while for you to be comfortable with him regarding unannounced scenting sessions or the random hugs that some of the others do, but right now, it is planned.

“I umm… I know you are one and the same, so he is always there, and I don’t know if this is possible, but can I talk to Alpha Joon, please?” you ask tentatively, trying to regain his attention.

He finally looks at you, his eyes curious and cautious. Slowly, they bleed from the outside in with the forest green of Namjoon’s hybrid side. 

“Hello again, Alpha Joon. Your presence has been frequent tonight, and I am glad you fronted at my request. Thank you, Alpha,” you begin, trying to convey that you are in a good mindset and not panicking or upset.

He simply nods. His curiosity and nervousness are evident in his face and body tension. 

“I may not be happy with how my position was proposed, but I will not let that affect your ability to be who you are– the Prime Alpha Wolf-Hybrid of Bangtan Pack.” 

He shakes his head, starting to deny any further action is required when you step closer. You tilt your head to the side and back, barring the area that Lee Min Ho had traced.  

You watch his attention drop to your neck from the corner of your eye, and a sneer flashes on his face before he closes his eyes to collect himself.

You will for whatever calming, reassuring scent you have to push out, not that you even know what you are doing. Softly asking, “Please finish, Prime Alpha.”

Unknown to you, your scent follows your wishes as the vanilla of the mate bond blooms with your sweet pea. It washes over the Prime Alpha as your bond solidifies more. His vanilla and leather respond in kind and blanket you.

For a moment, you both bask in the scents surrounding you. The natural reaction of being near one’s fated mate unfurls. 

Driving on almost pure instinct, Alpha Joon closes the gap. His warm, large hands grip your waist and hold you in place. His eyes are sharply watching each and every microexpression on your profile.

The second you became connected, it was like your brain went offline. 

Your arms find their place around his shoulders, sinking your good hand into the locks of silky hair at the base of his neck. Your body tingles at the feel of your fronts pressed together, making every breath like a soft caress. 

The soft puff of breath on your jawline causes you to pause. The first touch of his lips on your skin releases you from your hold. His soft, measured kisses trailing your jaw to the base of your ear feels like nothing you have felt before. 

Somewhere in your mind, alarm bells go off because this feels like more than just a scenting session. The rest of you, the part with control now, is letting go and basking in the moment.  It feels like so much, but not enough at the same time.

A gentle flick of his tongue on your earlobe triggers a shiver down your spine and a soft, almost inaudible but needy sound to escape you. 

Whispering in your ear, Alpha Joon says, “I have you, Luna. Always will.”

Those simple words feel like a world of promises. 

Adjusting his hold on you, one hand going to the back of your head to angle you into a deeper bend while the other is securing you around the waist, Alpha Joon continues his scenting of your neck. 

His plush lips feel like feathers gliding along tantalizingly. Warm and playful kisses leave a trail of embers in tandem. Nothing lasts as every movement, marking, and pressure point is brief. 

Your mind battles between wanting to stop before you go too far, angering his bonded mates, and needing something more but what you don’t know. You are in uncharted territory now. Scenting your family pack NEVER felt like this. Hell, making out with Eric never felt like this. 

“Alpha,” you whine, not entirely sure you know what you are whining for.

THUD

Muffled scuffling is heard with pained noises and an “Ow, that was my tail!”

It’s like a bucket of ice gets poured over you, snapping your senses back into reality. The once comforting and secure hold you were relaxed into becomes a cage. The lingering feel of his kisses now burns like a hot branding iron. Within seconds, your skin pales, and your scent disappears. 

Looking up at Alpha Joon, you see him glaring at the door. Taking advantage of his distraction, you push out of his hold. Stumbling back against the front door.

Even more scampering is heard, along with a few colorful words, as your unknown audience races to hide somewhere inside the pack house.

His glare softens as he looks at you; his jaw is still set, and his fists are clenched at his sides. As the seconds pass, it registers with the Alpha that you have closed off everything. Silently, he curses whoever was just behind the door.

“Y/n,” he says, stepping forward, unclenching his hands, and reaching for yours. His eyes blend back to their deep brown as he scrambles to find a way to fix this.

“Thank you for tonight, Alpha. It seems your mates are waiting for you,” you say. 

Taking one last look at the man who stole your inhibitions and released the ardor you thought you had lost, you grab the door handle. Bowing, you feel your heart clench and your throat tighten as you whisper, “Good night, Namjoon.” 

Before he can say anything or do anything, you are inside the packhouse and in your room. You close the door with a slam and fall against it. 

For the first time in forever, you allow yourself to cry. No, not cry, but weep. Weep for what you don’t know. Was it getting caught with Namjoon? Was it for falling out of a position of control? Was it for the child you lost? Was it for every heartbreak you have experienced?

You don’t know how long you stay there on the floor in a crumbled gown, tacks of mascara dried on your cheeks, and numbness blanketing every inch.  

The packhouse is silent. You know the pack must have heard you, but you don’t have enough left to acknowledge that right now. 

With stiff limbs, you stand up and make your way to the bathroom. Taking off your heels along the way, leaving there wherever the land. Your earrings end up on the bathroom counter, at least. 

Getting ready for bed, washing your face, and the rest of the routine are robotic. Walking back into the bedroom, you make to climb into your bed, but what you see stops you in your tracks. 

There is a carefully made nest against the wall– Jimin. 

He mentioned that he might make a nest for you to come home to. You sit on the edge of the mattress to observe the time and attention that went into making it. The center is filled with pillows of different sizes. The wall is covered with even more to protect you from its hardness. You note the intricate weaving of blankets around the edge in seven colors. 

It’s a clear representation of their mate-bonded pack. It’s perfect, just like they are. Crawling in the middle of it will ruin it. 

You already have ruined enough tonight. 

Looking around the room, you decided to sleep in the sitting window. Curling into yourself, making yourself as small as you can, you cry again, but this time, the sobs are silent, and the tears are dry.

The Packhouse living room had been set up like a movie theater. After seeing your pictures in the group chat, they all wanted to watch you and Namjoon walk the carpet together. They had popcorn and sodas and cuddled together, waiting and watching. 

Constant commentary flowed as they watched others on the carpet before the two of you were first spotted. The world seems to slow once they see you– their newest mate. You looked every bit the perfect mate they knew you were. 

You were wise with your choice of words. You knew when to speak up or let Namjoon guide the conversation. Your smile and giggles made each one wish they were with you instead of their Prime Alpha. 

It wasn’t left unnoticed how you seemed to charm everyone, gaining flirtatious comments from interviewers and even the occasional unwarranted extended hugs from other stars. How Namjoon kept his cool was beyond everyone else. 

Maybe it was a good idea that he was the only one there. 

Taehyung was already making a mental list of all the people to disregard in future interviews for disrespecting their claim on you. He wasn’t the only one. As a pack of Alphas, it was nearly impossible for them not to want to bite off anyone’s hand that touched you. 

“She is doing really well,” comments Hoseok. He was worried the most because of your insecurities about being photographed. Having experienced self-image issues in the past, he knows how hard they are to deal with.

“I think her team was constructive with that aspect. They made getting ready for this event so much fun for her,” Yoongi says. 

Jungkook nods in agreement, “They were talking about trying to find a way to make Bethany Ann’s team her permanent prep-team for events and such.”

“Really? She liked them that much?” asked Seokjin, grabbing his phone and texting Manager Sejin to demand this assignment happen ASAP if it hasn’t happened already.

“Yeah. How long do you think they will be there? Joonie-ah normally only stays long enough to let everyone know and then comes home,” Yoongi asks.

A chorus of replies came, all pointing out the same fact– no one had a clue. 

This prompted Jimin to bolt out of Hoseok’s arm, yelling as he went, “Everyone get me a heavily scented blanket and whatever pillow you want Y/n to have in her nest!”

Confusion fell over most of the remaining pack. Taehyung and Jungkook were the only ones to get up as if they knew what was happening.

“Jinnie-hyung, can you grab the stuff in the dryer?” asked the youngest mate.

“Sure, as soon as you tell me what Jimin is doing with Y/n’s nest,” responded Seokjin, as everyone stopped moving to listen. 

Looking around, Jungkook could see that the hyung line was all clueless. “Oh, Y/n was breaking down her nest at 7 am this morning and wanted to return our items because it didn’t feel right anymore.”

Yoongi moved forward, asking, “What do you mean return them? She doesn’t want our scents?”

“Nooo, that isn’t it. She… her mom wouldn’t let her keep up her ‘blanket fort,’ and so she was tearing it down at 7 am. Tae-hyung and Jimin-hyung, we all talked to her about it. Turns out, she was giving it back because she thought they needed to be cleaned and didn’t smell right.”

“But what is Jimin doing?” prompts Seokjin, still looking for the answer to his question.

Bouncing on his feet, Junngkook says, “She said Jimin could build her a proper nest to come home to because she might be too worn out to make it herself.”

A mixture of shock and giddiness spread across the rooms, followed by chaos. Everyone was practically running upstairs to find and scent the perfect blanket. Seokjin got the drying and called everyone to get what was theirs. 

Meanwhile, Jimin took the regular bedding down to your den and started getting to work. It was typical for Jimin to take the lead on making the nests for the pack, but what wasn’t expected was for Jimin to restrict anyone from helping. Anytime one of his mates came near the bed, Jimin would growl. 

“Jimin-hyung, I was the one who figured it out in the first place. I can be here and help,” whined Jungkook. 

Everyone knew that logically. Jungkook had heard your restless night and fixed it with little help. By all means, Jungkook was now responsible for ensuring your sleeping needs were being met. 

With a growl, Jimin refused to let him come any closer. By now, Seokjin, Yoongi, and Hoseok had all gathered to watch the exchange. Curiosity peaked at the unusual behavior of their normally docile tiny mate. 

“Jimin-ah, Kookie is right. His Alpha has taken this responsibility, and you really shouldn’t deny it,” Yoongi says, trying to inject some logic into this situation. 

The increased intensity of Jimin’s growl was unexpected. Not only was growling difficult for a Red Panda hybrid to make, but it was also typically saved for dangerous situations. 

The room fell silent, aside from Jimin, and the Alphas stepped back. None of them wanted to challenge Jimin regarding his drive to make a nest for their new mate, but his actions were not welcomed or appropriate as far as the rest were concerned. 

After a stalemate of what to do, a bouncing Taehyung joined them. “Hey, are we gonna keep… What’s going on here?” asked the tiger as he took in the tenseness of the room. It is clear to him that it’s everyone against Jimin right now, but why?

“Hyung won’t let me help get Y/n’s bed ready when she comes home to sleep. It’s my area to care for,” whines Jungkook, his ears now out and drooping low with sadness. 

Walking into the room further, Jimin’s growl lessens as his attention is now on the tiger, but it still hasn’t completely gone away. Raising his eyebrow at Jimin, Taehyung sees that the nest isn’t complete, and Jungkook still holds his scented blanket.

“I think you guys are getting it wrong,” comments Taehyung, turning his back to Jimin and pulling everyone else’s attention. “Hoseok-hyung, you were there when Y/n agreed to build a nest for her. What did you offer?”

Scrunching his brow, Hoseok answers, “I said we could replace what she needed, and Jimin could build her a nest.”

Taehyung waits to see if they catch on, but when seconds go by, and no one connects the dots, he says, “You offered her a nest built by Jimin. Only Jimin. She said she would love to come home to a nest built by Jimin.”

“It’s a charge,” says Seokjin with understanding. “Jimin is charged with making a nest for Y/n before she gets home. Jungkook, give Jimin the blanket, and then we all need to leave.”

Thumping his foot in protest, the bunny hybrid whines,  “Buuut Hyung…”

“No. This isn’t about sleeping. It’s about a nest. Jimin has always been responsible when it comes to the pack’s nest and that won’t stop now,” corrects Seokjin.

“Wait, Jungkook, look at the nest Jimin is building. Is there anything you or Jimin think it could need more to help provide a proper nest and comfort for sleeping?” offers Yoongi.

Jimin and Jungkook take in the nest as the youngest hands over his blanket, taking in the amount of blankets and pillows. Jimin starts to weave the new blanket into the rest around the edge. 

“Namjoon’s scent is not as strong as the rest of ours,” says Jungkook. Looking at Jimin, he waits for his thoughts on the comment to which Jimin starts counting. After double-checking that he is only counting six blankets, Jimin nods at Jungkook.

“Will you be okay if I got you his blanket and maybe another pillow of his for the nest you are making for Y/n, Jimin-hyung?” tentatively asks the youngest Alpha. 

Jimin makes a squeaking noise as he undoes the nest wall to make it better once the Prime Alpha’s blanket is brought down. Noticing that no one has moved, he jumps off the bed and pushes everyone out. His antics are met with laughing and teasing by the hyungs.

It takes Jungkook and Jimin almost two hours to complete the nest. Well, actually, it takes Jimin two hours to make it while Jungkook turns into his personal errand boy. Jungkook has been sent to have different mates at more scent to items or change it out for something different because it feels wrong.

All of the mates don’t complain or argue about the requests. They are grateful that their Jiminnie is slowly returning to himself, and their new mate is the only one to thank for this change.

It has gotten late, much to the pack's dislike. They wanted to see you in your gown in person, not on a screen and not from yards away.  Namjoon had already promised them his date with you would end when you got home. 

Seokjin, having already had a date with you, retired for the night. He had seen you in a dress, felt your skin against his, and basked in your body's heat.  While he would love to experience those all again, he would be patient and wait his turn.

That patience was nowhere to be found in Hoseok, Jimin, and Taehyung. Each of them took turns checking the driveway for some indication you were almost here. When the car had pulled up, the three of them were practically glued to the window. 

It wasn’t until Yoongi yelled at them to stop being creepy and wait for you to make it in the door that they stopped their window-watching. Chuckling at their actions, Yoongi and Jungkook left them to bombard you as they also turned in for the night. 

However, when some time passed and you both were not in their presence, they grew restless again. Using their hybrid skills of being sneaky and light-footed, Hoseok and Taehyung make it to the door. Leaning against the door, they catch the conversation on the other side. 

Doing their best to tamp down their scents and not interrupt, the two of them listen to the rustle of clothes, the sounds of increased breaking, soft and uncontrollable moans of desire, and the smell of an intimate scenting session. 

They are giddy at their Prime Alpha's progress with the newest mate. Taehyung’s tail curled and uncurled on the floor in anticipation of being able to elicit the same reactions from you. 

THUD

A sharp pain flies up Taehyung’s tail as he hisses, turning around to see that Jimin, in all clumsiness, has fallen off the hall bench and landed on Taehyung’s tail, crushing it with his knee. 

Jimin freezes while Hoseok scrambles away from the door and hurdles upstairs, taking multiple steps at a time. 

“Ow, that was my tail!” Tae screeches. 

THUMB

The front door rattles.

“Shit. 빨리 가다,” bitingly says Tae, pulling Jimin along the way, who is whispering apologies the whole way. Meanwhile, Tae is cursing in every language he knows because he caught you turning off your scent.

Jimin was restless. He knew the boys had heard his mistake, not that he was the only one to blame, but he was still worried. He was worried that what happened ruined your night with Namjoon. 

Namjoon scent could be smelled down the hall. It was a mix of anger, annoyance, lust, and despair. Your scent was nowhere to be found. Jimin had tried to find comfort with Hoseok, but he only said to wait till the morning to see what repairs were needed. 

That wasn’t acceptable.

He tried to peek into Jungkook’s bedroom to see if he knew what to do, but the youngest Alpha was nowhere to be found. Jimin went to your den’s door to see if he could hear anything. Maybe if he knew you were slumbering away, he could calm down.

However, he did not hear the even, slow breaths of someone sleeping. It was the staccato breaths and sniffles of someone crying. How did he not hear them til now? 

Were you a master of hiding your tears as well as your scent?

What does he do now?

With how the shadows moved along the bottom of the door, Jimin knew you were leaning against it. He couldn’t open it, or he would hit you. Did you want someone to come and comfort you? 

Why had you just crumpled at the door? 

Did Taehyung and his actions at the door bother you that much? 

Not knowing how to make anything better but unwilling to leave you alone, Jimin sat against the wall next to your door. He sends out his calming orange scent with a hint of vanilla, hoping it will slow your tears. 

He is reserved to stay there all night if he has to.

Nearly two hours later, he hears movement from your room, which startles Jimin. He thought maybe you had fallen asleep against the door. Watching the shadows play along the floor, he can tell you to get up and go farther into the room. 

Should he knock now? 

What are you doing?

Will you finally seek comfort in the nest he carefully made for you?

After hearing the sounds of water and more rustling of clothes, Jimin realizes that you are getting ready for bed. You shuffle around the room for a moment. Then he can hear you get on the bed… wait, you walk again.

Where are you going?

What’s on the other side of the room?

At the sound of your renewed staccato breathing far away from his nest, Jimin joins you in your silent cries from the hallway. Thoughts of failing to build a proper nest, thoughts of ruining things for you with Namjoon, and thoughts of you rejecting the mate bond taunt him behind your closed door. 

He will fix this. 

He will be the first mate you see when you wake up. He will find out what is wrong and correct it. He has to, and he will make Tae help.

Evil cackling laughter is heard before the voice says, “Filthy mongrel, tear it down before someone sees.”

“Of course, Mama. I won’t make it again,” you say with tears in your eyes.

“You are just an attention whore,” a male voice says.

You shake your head, “No, no! I thought if I did it… I just wanted you to like me.”

Another female voice sounds off. “He only keeps you around because you are easier than a blow-up doll and warmer, too. " 

Wiping off your face from the lunch they just dumped on you, the sounds of the cafeteria’s laughter making you dizzy. “He said he loved me.”

“Just act like a normal human being, Y/n. Then maybe you won’t be so pathetic,” the older woman says, pulling you by your hair and throwing you in the closet. “Now stay there and reflect. Don’t you ever tell a soul.”

“Meemaw! No, let me out please! Don’t leave me here!” Your cries go unanswered for days, all because you cuddled on the couch with Evie and three of her brothers in a Kitty pile.

“Why would I want a child with you? I’d rather you die.” Eric’s voice goes on repeat.

That’s when the pain starts. 

You feel the slaps across your face, the kicking of your stomach, the snapping of your ankle, your lungs filling with water, and the never-ending feeling of falling down the stairs.

“Y/n!” You hear your voice being called and know that more torment is coming. Your body starts to shake.

“Y/n, baby, 내꺼. Please, wake up. Naekkeo,” a pleading voice breaks through the hazy of the nightmare you are having. 

Still being shaken by someone’s hands, you sit up like a shot, and panic that you are going to get hurt floods your system. Your eyes are wide and unseeing what is around you causing your eyes to dart around the room, looking for danger.

It isn’t until hands hold your face and force you to look at the person sitting next to you. You see Jimin with worry, pain, and so much more etched on his face. 

“Y/n, Naekkeo, you are safe at the packhouse. I have you,” he says gently but with surety. His eyes never leave yours, the orange and vanilla scent falling over you like a blanket. 

“Ji..Jimin?” you clarify, grabbing his hands to ensure he is real. Tears falling again, you launch yourself into his arms. “Jimin, it was a nightmare, right?”

Caught off by suddenly having his new mate in his arms, he is lucky that the instinct to protect you is so strong, or the both of you might have ended up on the floor. Scooting to sit properly in the window seat, he pulls you into a more secure hold. Wrapping his arms around your trembling form, he puts your head on his shoulder and rocks slowly.

“Yes, Naekkeo. It was all a nightmare. You’re not hurt,” Jimin reaffirms by pulling you a faction closer. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble against his neck as tears wet his pajama shirt. 

“No, nightmares are not something to be sorry about. Something causes them to happen, and it is beyond your control. Do you have them often?” 

“Not really. I haven’t had them in a while, but they still come. They usually last a lot longer than this.”

“Not anymore. We won’t let that happen. I won’t let that happen.” He hears you take a breath to say something, but he cuts you off: “Don’t worry about us missing out on sleep or something like that. We will lose more sleep if you know you are going through them without us helping you.”

He feels you relax more in his hold. Brushing your hair out of your eyes, Jimin looks at you again with a soft smile. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shake your head and clarify, “I think I should tell Bangtan together. I already explained some to Namjoon but…”

“You only want to say it once,” Jimin finishes your sentence. “Makes sense but can I ask you a question?”

Sitting up more, pulling slightly out of his hold, you get held in place firmer. Surprisingly, you don’t feel the need to tense up. Instead, it warms your soul that your nightmares aren’t detouring him and that he still wants to be the friend he promised initially. 

“What is your question?”

You see his eyes flick up and then back down to you, his eyes distant, like he is trying to find the right words. A moment later, he looks you dead in the eye, alerting your mind, and asks, “Why did you not sleep in the nest I made for you?”

“The nest?”

Timidly, Jimin bites his bottom lip and nods to the bed, “Did I not make it well enough?”

Glancing to the bed, you see the nest again. It’s then your scent comes crashing back. Your sweet pea is slightly moldy, hinting at perfume tones and a splash of bergamot.

Jimin instantly sends soothing scents and rubs your back, “It’s okay if you don’t like it. Everyone likes them in different ways.”

“It’s not that, Jimin. It’s lovely.” Looking back at the Alpha holding you with a smile filled with sadness and longing. “It’s perfect. I didn’t want to ruin it.”

Confusion fills Jimin’s face, looking between you and the bed. His mouth opens and closes like a fish before he huffs. Without another thought, Jimin stands, cradling you to his chest, one arm across your back and the other hooking under your knees.

“Jimin! Jimin, put me down. I weigh like 1,000 pounds,” you say in high-pitched but hushed tones, trying not to wake up the rest of the house. 

It's like your mind wants to get out of his grasp, but your body never wants to let go, which is why you have a vice grip on his shoulders despite your words.  

A soft but low growl comes from him. Looking down at you, with a now deadpan face, he says, “I am an Alpha. I was made to pick you up no matter what. How would I be able to protect you, hold you, and comfort you if I couldn’t?”

Stilling in his arms, you take in the feeling of his engaged but not straining shoulder under your grip.

Finally, he starts walking again towards the nest. You watch his face in slightly shocked awe. There is no trembling, no sweat on his brown, no indication that you are too much for him. You are dropped inside the nest before you can ask questions and unpack this new information.

“Jimin,” you whine, only for him to sit outside and level you with a firm look.

“I made this for you. Jungkook helped a little, but each of Bangtan contributed a blanket and at least one pillow to add to your nest. Do you want to know why?”

Still, in a semi-balled-up fetal position, you are covered in a multitude of scents. You want to know, but you don’t, “Jimin, thank you for making this, but I think… I think��”

“You think we are taking it too far? Think that if you start accepting your situation more we will hurt you like others in your past?” he questions.

Breaking eye contact, you look at the woven blanket wall of the nest again. “The seven of you are so tightly woven together that the world knows who all of you are. Most people who dislike K-pop will at least have some idea of who BTS is. I don’t want to ruin anything.”

A chuckle comes from the red panda, “You won’t. It’s impossible.”

Now it's your turn to chuckle: “Oh yeah, sure, that is why you guys had a whole new contract written up. If I were a regular Playmate, then I could see you saying that, but…”

“But you are not,” Jimin cuts you off. “That is why nothing will be ruined.” He scoots closer to the wall of the nest and tilts his head, asking, “May I come in? I want to see something.”

You glance at him before looking around again, noting that the nest he made is, technically, big enough for at least one, maybe two more people.

“You can say no. You can say no to all of us. You could have said no to Namjoon-hyung tonight as well,” Jimin states again with total seriousness. 

You can say no, but is it improper to say no?

You can say no, but will you always say no?

You can say no, but did you want to say no? 

With the look in Jimin’s eyes, the scents surrounding you from the nest, and the little voice inside your heart, the answer is No. 

No, it's not improper to say no. 

No, you won’t always say no.

No, you want to say yes.

“You can join me,” you say just above a hushed whisper.

Carefully, with his eyes still locked with yours, Jimin climbs over the nest wall and finds space between the wall and you. He lays with his back to the door, facing you. 

Once Jimin settles, your body uncurls and relaxes instinctively. Your braced hand finds the hem of his shirt and holds on as you turn to face him. The other hand bounces between resting on your side to the bed, under your head, and back again.

Telegraphing his intention, Jimin clasps his hand in yours and settles it between you. The breath you had been unknowingly holding releases, and you breathed in the pack again, but this time with Jimin's more robust, fresh scent. 

“There she is. My Naekkeo smells like sweet peas and vanilla again,” smiles Jimin. 

You blush this time at the name Naekkeo; Jimin is calling you sweetheart in Korean. He had said it before, but you were so panicked from the nightmare that the translation part of your brain was offline. 

“Y/n, I will be as honest as I can with you. Please listen to everything I have to say before you say anything and know it is okay not to say anything,” Jimin states with a questioning look. 

You snuggle down into the comfort of the nest and nod at the Alpha. Jimin smiles fondly at your actions as he tries to figure out just how to tell you enough but not too much.

“Playmates were forced on Bangtan Pack at the beginning. PD-nim said if we accepted them, the rest of the industry would accept them. It would save the lives of hybrid Idols from turning feral or losing them to suicide.”

You sucked in a harsh breath but kept quiet, letting him continue.

“We didn’t say no. We didn’t think we could. Our first Playmate came with all the bells, whistles, and services included. She got mad when none of us would touch her. None of us wanted to. She repulsed us with her outright desire that stunk up a city block.

“She even tried to use some of those aphrodisiac chocolates on Jungkook-ah. Once Namjoon-hyung found out, it was war. He went after the Playmate’s company, PD-nim, and even threatened to break our contract with Hybe and BigHit.

“After that, all of our Playmates had the contracts you saw. In fact, most of our playmates were homosexual female-identified, which made it easy because, well, we are all males. Contrary to popular belief, even though we are a male mate-bonded pack, most of us still appreciate the female body and have experience with it.”

You giggle at the random fact. You had figured the pack wasn’t opposed to being with either gender after a few of the songs that Lily showed you. Jimin just raised his eyebrow in question, but you waved him to continue.

Pulling your hand to his chest, he continues, “When you came crashing into our lives, everything changed. Yoongi, Jungkook, Seokjin, and I were the first to realize that you were different. It wasn’t long after that the rest understood that, too.

“We wanted you in our lives before your hand got broken. Actually, Yoongi wanted away from all the Playmate scents so badly that he left the observation room to run right into the reason why.”

Pulling your hand up, he kisses the back softly, then looks at you again before clarifying, “You. None of us see you as a Playmate, Y/n. There is a reason why the contract we took on says there is the option to integrate you into the pack. We are just trying to explore what it is during this time.

“At the end of the contract, we all may better understand what has happened or is happening. Then, together, the eight of us will discuss what happens next. Just remember, you always have the right to say no.”

The silence following is not deafening, but it is heavy. 

You were given so much information all at once. Mostly, you wanted to punch their first Playmate while praising Namjoon for being an incredible Prime Alpha and protecting the pack. That is two Playmates now that you understand need a good old-fashioned ass-whoopin’.

Jimin’s words confirmed what Taehyung and Hoseok had said before you signed the contract. He was there then and agreed, but you still had doubts. How much you want to trust them frustrates you, but you question everything you do.

Maybe it’s not them that you don’t trust.

Maybe you don’t trust– you.

God, your brain has too much going on right now. The plethora of information, the adrenaline of the nightmare wearing off, and the comfort of the nest with Jimin makes you sleepy. 

Stifling a yawn, Jimin chuckles. 

“I have so much to think about now. Thank you for sharing everything, Jimin,” you say. “I think… I think I want to talk to the pack tomorrow if I can. I need to tell them about my nightmares, my ex, and let them know what you told me. Maybe we can all clear a few things up.”

The red panda barks pleasedly, and a bright smile graces his face. “I think that is a beautiful idea, but right now, Naekkeo, you need more sleep,” he agrees and moves to get out of the nest, pulling a whine from you.

It shocks both of you. Jimin looked around to ensure he hadn’t knocked over anything in the nest. Meanwhile, you are blushing at the fact you literally whined at the thought of Jimin leaving you alone in the nest. 

“Naekkeo?” questions Jimin, still frozen in mid-climb.

“I am sorry. I didn’t mean, I shouldn’t,” you blabber.

Turning back to you, Jimin cradles your face in his palm, drawing your eyes to his. “You can ask me anything.”

“Can you… can you stay… in the nest… with me?” you hesitantly question. “I mean, you can also say no. Youhaveyourownbedanddonhavetostay.”

“May I answer before you decide for me?” 

“Ah yeah, sorry. I tend to keep…” Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, you open them again and say, “Yes, sorry.”

“I would be honored to share your nest tonight,” Jimin says with a heart-melting smile, bringing his hand away from your face. “Where do you want me?”

That paused you… Where did you want him?

Looking at where he was, then where you were, you weren’t sure where else he could go besides where he was now. The confusion must have shown either on your face or your scent because Jimin started trying to hold in his laughter.

Glaring at him playfully, you ask, “What is so funny? Who asks that kind of question? You just lay there and sleep. It’s not me to tell you where you will be comfortable.”

“That isn’t what I meant, Y/n. I meant, like, do you want me against the wall or between you and the bedroom door? Under the covers or over the covers? Big spoon, little spoon, no spoon?” Jimin informs you, watching as each option is said and his heart fluttering at the blush that covers your cheeks at the last three options. 

“Ah… well. You are the Alpha and are the protector-ish one between us so maybe where you are now, between the door and I. Not that anything would come to get us in the packhouse but on principle,” you stammer out.

“Alright, Protector-ish Jimin in place,” he says jokingly as he puffs out his chest. “Now over or under?”

Giggling at his actions, you pull the covers from under you. Snuggling in them, you say, “I can’t sleep without a blanket because I get cold easily. Do you?”

Jimin thinks about it for a few seconds. “Well, I do like to sleep with blankets but I don’t have to sleep that way if it will make you uncomfortable. However, if I sleep under the covers, it will help warm them and in turn warm you.”

Your face drops in a flush of heat as you remember Taehyung’s words, “I am sure someone would be willing to warm you up,’ and you warm up all on your own.

“Ah well, I do get cold, and Taehyung said that Alphas were good at keeping warm. Umm… so you can be under them if you want.”

Nodding slowly, Jimin slips under the covers. His Alpha pushes him to find ways to keep you comfortable. Since you didn’t give a no and didn’t say anything that could indicate you hated the idea, he would do just as you said. Besides, as Protector-ish Jimin, he couldn’t stand the thought of you being cold while he was this close to you.

Watching you, he can tell you are waiting for him to ask about the last part. “Big spoon, small spoon, or no spoon, Naekkeo?”

Your eyes drop to the space between the two of you. Your meemaw’s words hit you again, but then the comfort you felt when cuddling with Evie and Derik followed and finished with the security you felt in Jimin’s arms on the sitting window. 

“You can say no spoon, Y/n. I won’t mind.”

“I used to be a big cuddler, but I… I don’t much more. Um, typically only with my family pack. Can we just lay like this for now?”

“Of course. I will always respect your wishes,” smiles Jimin. You search his face for a hint of disappointment or anger but find nothing but his smile of contentment. 

You return his smile, which quickly becomes a rather large yawn. Giggling, you snuggle down farther, then reach out and take his hand with yours: “Is this okay?”

“Y/n, I had you in my lap and offered to be any spoon you wanted. I think I am fine with holding your hand while we sleep,” he teases you. 

“You’re right,” you giggle. “Well, so you know, I am a wiggler and a traveler. I have been known to end up with my head down and my feet up. So if I get too much, you can wake me up or hold me in place until I stop. Or whatnot. Evie always ends up sleeping on my chest to pin me in place.”

“Hmm, I see. Well, if you turn into a human tornado, then I may have to find a way to tie you up,” he says with his eyes closed, completely missing the shocked look on your face. However, he does take note of your scent turning to honey with arousal. 

Jimin thinks of all the ways Hoseok used his kinbaku and shibari skills as a form of meditation, relaxation, and trust-building practice between them. Maybe Hoseok can use them on you and help you in the same way he helped Jimin with his anxiety and trust issues. 

Either way, the imagery of you in intricately knotted silk or hemp rope makes Jimin very happy that you didn’t choose him to be the big spoon right about now.

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[munstysmind]

BIRTHDAY CAKE - CHRIS EVANS

WARNING/S: Implied smut, Chris being adorable… that needs a warning, right??

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE USED IN ANY CAPACITY

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A loud crash comes from the kitchen, ripping you from your sleep. As soon as your brain registers its sudden return to consciousness, you groan loudly in protest and rub your eyes before reaching over to get phone from the bedside table and check the time.

It's just after ten.

You let out another groan as you stretch your entire body out before relaxing back into your boyfriend's king-sized bed.

You came back to Boston with him at the start of quarantine. Both of you were out of work with the film, and basically every other nonessential, industry being shut down so there was no real reason you had to stay in LA.

That was three months ago now and honestly, you both love living together. So much so that last week he asked you if you wanted to make it permanent. Of course, you'd said yes. The two of you had just slotted into each other's routines and quirks so seamlessly it was like you'd been living together for years. Your two-year relationship has never been stronger.

You're pulled out of your thoughts by another loud crash.

"Damn it" you hear him say, sounding extremely frustrated.

"What the hell is he doing?" you say to yourself as you get up and throw on his shirt from yesterday before heading out to see what all the commotion was about.

Pressing your lips together, you hold back a laugh as you lean against the door frame and take in the sight in front of you.

The kitchen is a complete disaster. Flour is everywhere. The floor, the counter... Chris.

Lord knows what he's trying to do.

"What happened in here?" you ask, causing him to jump and quickly try to hide what he's doing behind his back.

"I thought you were asleep" he says, brushing away the flour from the front of his shirt.

"I was"

"Fuck... I woke you up, didn't I?"

"Yeah"

"I'm sorry"

"It's OK. What are you doing?"

"Nothing"

"Then why are you trying to hide baking supplies behind you?"

"Well... it's your birthday"

"Go on"

"I'm trying to bake you a birthday cake"

"Chris...

"I don't remember it being this hard when I helped Ma as a kid"

"That's because Mama Evans is an amazing baker and did all the work while simultaneously making you think you were helping"

You make your way over to him and brush the flour he's somehow managed to get in his hair before sitting on the bench opposite him.

"You, my love, are a man of many talents but cooking and baking isn't really one of them" you tell him as you rest your arms on his shoulders and play with the hair at the back of his neck.

"I make a mean pesto egg, everyone loves them" he says, wearing the cute pout you love.

"They are an exception"

"I should have just got a box mix, I know I can't fuck that up"

"You went to all this effort just for me, you have no idea how much that means"

"We're stuck in lockdown and your family's on the other side of the country. I just... I wanted to make your day special"

"You make all my days special" you tell him quietly as a smile spreads across your face. You've never met anyone as loving as him. You don't know what you did to deserve him in your life, but you thank whatever greater power is responsible every single day that he is.

"I wanted today to be extra special. It's not every day that you turn thirty" he says with a shit eating grin that makes you roll your eyes.

"Urghhh, don't remind me"

"Hey, how to you think I feel, I'm the big four zero next year"

"I thought we were talking about me"

"We are, I was just saying"

"I can help, with the cake"

"Nope, it's your day".

"Is that so?"

"Yes"

"So does that mean I get to do whatever I want?"

"Yep"

"Then, I'm going to remove my boyfriend's shirt in the middle of the kitchen so he doesn't make a mess on the way to the bedroom".

"And why am I going to the bedroom exactly?"

"Because it's my birthday and I want my man to eat me out then rail me into the bed until I can't remember my own name"

"Well, in that case" he says with a smirk as he lifts his arms up like a child, making you laugh before grabbing the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head.

You lean forward and kiss his chest as he takes his shirt from you and blindly throws it over his shoulder into the pile of flour on the counter.

He takes your face and kisses you, hard, before sliding his hands down your back to your hips and pulling you close, your chests flush with each other.

You let out a quiet moan as he starts pressing open mouthed kisses up your neck, wrapping your legs around his waist when he sinks his teeth into your skin before tracing it with his tongue to soothe the sting.

He knows exactly what to do to make you come undone in 0.5 seconds.

"Fuck, Chris" you gasp, threading you fingers into his hair as he sucks a bruise onto your flesh. You pull his hair, bringing his face back to yours and kissing him.

He pulls away with a grin, making you whimper and follow him, trying to lock lips again.

With a chuckle he puts his hands under your thighs and lifts you off the bench, throwing yo over his shoulder.

"Chris!" you squeal as he starts heading towards the bedroom, Dodger following right behind him.

"No Bub. Trust me, you don't want to see what I'm about to do" he tells your fur baby, slapping you ass as if to prove a point, making you squeal again.

It's about to be the best birthday ever...

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[themindofachronicdaydreamer]

Edible Arrangements

fluff nation plot: your husband brings home some special brownies to share with you. content: use of marijuana, together since Jujutsu High, married (reader referred to as wife), little makeout but sfw, we are pretending geto never left gojo and is still in the picture as a sorcerer and gojo's best friend for my own mental state thank uuu word count: 4.1k satoru gojo x reader note: ahhhhhhhhh not everyone's cup of tea ik! but i thought this idea was fun since Gojo is practically on crack 99% of the time to begin with. warning i didnt proofread too thoroughly so be wary of that!

Gojo can be a lot to handle sometimes.

And by sometimes, that means most of the time.

Generally speaking, Jujutsu sorcerer Saturo Gojo is an acquired taste; his personality is one that could easily drain the average person's social battery. He is known for his unpredictable nature and impulsive ideas which are simultaneously (and somehow impressively) thought through. Knowing the sorcerer meant accepting the fact that you may never know what will happen next with him. He habitually leaves everyone around him on the edge of their toes, wondering what his next antic will be. One second he may be in an intense fight with a curse, overtaking them without a drop of sweat; the next, he might as well be spending hundreds on sweet treats he insists he needs in order to survive a second longer. While he is widely well respected for his powerful abilities and techniques, he is also commonly viewed as childish and immature. Upon first impression, one may incorrectly interpret his behavior into thinking he is on drugs - how else can he be so... out there? Yuuji once described his teacher as 'unseriously unserious' - a truly apt description.

So when Gojo struts into the door of your shared bedroom, an excited smile on his face with his hands hiding whatever he's holding behind him, you know something is up.

"Honey, I'm home!" Gojo cheesily announces his presence, entering your apartment in search of you.

""m in here," you lazily call out to him from the bedroom. You had been relaxing in your shared room after a long week, waiting for your husband to come home and alleviate all of your worries as only he can do.

You hear footsteps growing closer to the door, each step more excited than the last. The door swings open and reveals the white-haired man with an almost animatedly wide smile. His hands are behind his back, holding something, you presume. He looks more excited than he normally does coming home to you - and that is saying a lot for your Satoru. It is always his favorite thing to come home to your presence. You are sure of this, so why is he extra giddy today?

"Hi, pretty girl," he greets sheepishly. "Long day?"

"Toru," you remark, excitedly dragging the end of the name only you are allowed to call him. "Yeah, I'm exhausted. Feels like this is the first time I've had time to relax in forever. How was work for you?" You move to sit up from your position in bed as you spoke, resting your head on the palm of your hand, your elbow leaning on the pillow next to you to give you a better look at the handsome man in front of you.

The evening sun tickles you through the bright window next to you, granting you an angelic golden glow. Gojo feels every beat of his heart to the point he contemplates the likelihood of it to explode out of his chest - and, if anything, at least his cause of death would be from your beauty, because he doesn't think anything else could ever even kill him. The sight of you laying down in your bed, in the home you share, in the life you have built together, with the love you share so deeply, makes Gojo so excited. He just wants to dote on you all night, an eternity of worshipping you being all he dreams off. Satoru savors the moment he takes to admire you. How is it even possible that not even his six eyes can comprehend how beautiful you are?

Nonetheless, Gojo is on a mission and could not get too distracted this early on, or he would never get around to convincing you of participating in his plan for the two of you tonight. Even if you look so cuddly and cute wrapped in your blanket and all cozy in bed, or even if he wants to jump right in with you and snuggle the night away. He has plans he must stick to - urgent plans.

"It was like usual. Y'know, trained a little, threw the kids around some, yada yada. The boring stuff," he begins, walking toward you as he speaks. He sits on the edge of the bed with his hands lingering behind him in an attempt to keep them hidden from you. "But, now that I am home to my beautiful wife I love with my entire heart, soul, and all six of my eyes, I have something to share with you!"

You smile as you sense your cheeks warm, shaking your head and responding, "What are you scheming this time?" You were much used to his tendencies to act in the spur of the moment, like the one time he convinced you to teleport halfway across the world with him to be tourists in New York City on a random Tuesday work night. You reach your arm toward one of Satoru's to attempt to bring whatever he's hiding to light, or even, really, just feel his touch, but his infinity doesn't permit you to get as close as you wish. You frown and look up at him in curiosity; he usually never has his infinity on with you.

"Patience is a cashew, darling. Wait, and you shall receive, or whatever those sayings are," Gojo confidently speaks as you hold back giggles at his misspoken proverbs. His eyes anxiously scan your figure before he continues, "It doesn't matter what they actually say anyway because of what I have brought home to share with you!"

You try to cut in to ask what he means, but he continues speaking over you in a rush. to get his next words out. His hands quickly leave his back, coming back together and presenting a little white box to you, all while he is blurting, "Shokogavemesomeediblestotrywithyou!" Gojo tilts his head, a cute, toothy smile beaming in your direction and opens the box containing delicious brownies to display them for you.

You are taken aback - not because you were against the of edibles with Gojo, nor because of Shoko's part in this. This isn't the first time the topic of edibles or anything regarding that has arisen. Satoru and you had done your fair share of partaking in that realm, like your monthly "baked baking" nights with Shoko or Suguru's failed attempts at growing hemp in his dorm at Jujutsu High. This is a normal concept for the two of you; your confusion is caused by what the special occasion seems to be causing him to propose the brownies in such a way. It's not your anniversary, nor is it a holiday. Why does he look like he has something else up his sleeve?

"She did now?" you responded with a teasing smile. "What, did she get tired of waiting for me to be able to schedule a baking day?"

"Oh, no, don't worry, baby. She just knew you were exhausted and wanted to cheer you up if she could," your husband smiles at you. You smile back, but feel there is something else Satoru wants to say. He continues, "I mean, she only knew because I was worried about you and gave her the idea to make them for us as a way of telling you how proud I am of you."

Ah, there it is. You were waiting for him to take all of the credit for his act of kindness. You note to thank Shoko later and try to come up with a day that works for the two of you ASAP. You have missed her in your recent busy weeks.

"Tonight, we are going to eat these brownies, watch movies, and relax. And then, we are going to sleep in in the morning and get our beauty sleep. No ifs, ands, or buts. Is that alright with you, baby?" Gojo queries.

"Of course, Toru," you hum. Ever since he opened the box to show you what it held, it had been a yes, but he had been so excited that you wanted his adorableness in the moment to last a little longer. "How could I ever say no to you?"

"Easy question: you can't," he quips.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm aware. Now hand one over."

"Sweets, do you know how much I fucking love you?"

-----

A bit over an hour later, the two of you sit across from each other on the floor of your kitchen, music faintly playing in the background. While you may claim otherwise, the effects of the brownie from earlier were definitely making their appearance. Everything was now extremely funny and embarrassing memories from high school were being shared between the two of you.

You cross your legs over the tiles beneath you and the cold of the floor lightly tickles your thighs. "Do you remember," you begin, struggling to hold back your laughter, "the first time we met?"

"Of course I do. It was love at first sight," Satoru muses. He sighs dramatically, placing his arms behind him for support to lean back on. He crosses one of his insanely long legs over the other one, stretching them to be beside your figure. Gojo closes his eyes with a ruminative smile overtaking his features before "The second I saw you from across the courtyard, I fell deep. No going back."

"Not me," you confess, although he already knows your love story by heart. "You were so annoying! I remember at one point, I was so overwhelmed, I told Suguru to get you a leash to keep you away for at least an hour or two."

"You are hurting my heart," Gojo feigns sadness. He brings his hand to his chest as if to make sure his heart was still there. "I knew we had something real special from the moment I met you. Just couldn't get away from you"

You think back to Gojo sauntering over to you as you were listening to music, sitting peacefully alone against a tree. He oh-so arrogantly walked across the entire field, abandoning his friends mid-conversation in preference of getting to know you. He introduced himself and sent you with a flirty wink you could only awkwardly smile back at. He already was a lot, but bearable; that was true, at least, until he decided to invade your personal space you cherished so much and sat next to you against the tree.

"Yeah, is that why you ripped my earbud out of my ear and shamed my music taste?" you jest.

"Your fault for listening to Hollaback Girl so casually," Gojo quips in return.

"How else was I supposed to hype myself up for the first day at a new school?" you giggle as you speak. "Although, looking back, it was an interesting choice."

"So interesting, it made me go bananas for you," he teases. He taps your knee with his own as a laugh escapes you. His hand grabs yours, toying with the gemstone mounted on your finger; a proud symbol of your eternal promise of unity. "And now, you're my wife, so clearly, it was a foolproof way to make you fall in love with me!"

"And your humility really helped your case," you lightheartedly jab at him while typing on your phone to add a new song to the queue.

"Oh, yeah, that too. Y'know, I've always thought I have a good sense of humor," Gojo brags until he hears the background shift from a low-key vibe to the upbeat anthem that was currently bringing the two you so much nostalgia - Hollaback Girl.

"Dance with me!" you jump to your feet, grabbing your husband's hand and tugging him to follow you. You move to a more open space out of the kitchen and in the living room, pretending to do cheerleading moves to match the music. The two of you work together to queue more songs, being your own DJs for your two person dance party. You get lost in the music together, the other's presence being all you need.

Eventually, you both decide to grab some water.

"Missed you. Missed your cute lil' laugh," Gojo confesses as you grab a bottle of water from the fridge.

"Toru, you've seen me every day this week," you respond, tossing the water to him, grabbing another for yourself, and closing the fridge. Satoru swiftly catches the water and nears to you. A sigh escapes him as he wraps his arms around your waist.

"And? We don't get us time as often as we used to," he whines into the embrace. Letting go so he can look at your face, he brushes hair out of your eyes. His rests his palm on your cheek, speaking, "You gotta take more time to yourself. I was getting worried."

"You're saying that as if you're not the Strongest,' you respond with a lighthearted giggle. You love how he worries about you - it is just another way he shows you how much he loves you. He is the Strongest, that much is true. It is not a light weight for him to have on his shoulders, yet, he still worries about how you - a Grade One sorcerer, less powerful than him by a landslide, nothing really "special" about you like how Gojo is - are doing. He bears the weight of the world, so much expected from him solely due to some unique traits he was born with. Still, somehow, he makes you feel like the only thing that matters in the history of the universe itself. How can one person live with a pressure such as the one he holds, yet still be so loving toward you?

"'m serious, baby. You've been doing so much. A break every now and then doesn't hurt," he smiles at you. Leaning in closer to you, he whispers, "Got it?"

"Got it," you whisper back. Gojo takes the opportunity to connect his lips to yours for a quick kiss. After several over-exaggerated kisses to your lips, he moves to kiss every inch of your phase. Not a spot goes untouched, as if this were the last time he would ever be this close to you. Every square inch of you, because there are not enough ways in the world to show just how much he loves you.

Laughing at his antics and him continuing , you giggle before you say, "Love you, Toru."

He kisses one of your cheeks, saying "And I," another kiss to your forehead, "totally," another one to the opposite cheek, "love," another to the tip of your nose, "you," one to your chin, "more." He gently places one last kiss to your lips, your face flushed from his smother of affection.

He pulls back, a small whimper leaving your mouth from the lack of his warmth. His lovesick smile is all you can see, and you wish nothing more than to stay in this moment forever.

But Satoru, once again, has other plans for the two of you.

"Raid the kitchen for some snacks with me?" he says as he poses slightly, a goofy look to his face as he waits for you to grab his now outstretched hand.

"I'd love to, kind sir," you say in a fake posh accent. After giving him a quick curtsy, Satoru uses raises both of your arms to spin you. He smoothly pulls you into his arms so that he is hugging you from behind.

"M'lady," he begins into your ear, "you must know that I have been struck by the most dangerous disease known to mankind."

"Oh dear! What has ailed you?" You gasp, turning to face Gojo. His arms embrace your waist lightly as he sways you back and forth to the music.

He leans down so his lips are right at your ear, his voice low as he answers, "I got a bad case of..." he takes a deep breath, "the munchies!" Gojo begins to tickle your sides and you squirm in his grasp.

"To-Toru! Stop!" you say between laughs. "It tickles!"

"That's the point, sweets!" he says, but stops anyway and moves to his main objective. Gojo is already halfway across the kitchen before he finishes saying, "C'mon, babe! I'm getting hungrier by the second and I got extra sweets at the market earlier when training Megumi that I am dying to eat right this second."

Not even ten minutes pass and the fridge is wide open, yelling at you and Satoru to shut it. The pantry is open and the freezer is starting to sweat from how long you have been searching through it already. You are starting to think that maybe, you have been infected with the munchies as well. Everything was looking delicious.

Satoru is eating from a bag of jumbo marshmallows he had in the pantry for s'mores with Shoko and Suguru next weekend, but he figures that he can just run to the store tomorrow, because these were so sweet it was addicting. You finally close the freezer, having found your favorite ice cream Gojo had picked up for you beneath all of the other pints. You shut the fridge as well, but only after grabbing the bowl of fruit you had cut for yourself for a snack earlier.

"Thank God. That thing was so annoying," Gojo says regarding the incessant beeping of the refrigerator, his words all muffled from the marshmallows in his mouth.

"Sorry, baby. Couldn't find where I put my fruit earlier. Can you pass me a spoon?" You request.

"Course," Satoru nods and uses his free hand to open the drawer beside him and slides the spoon across the counter. You move to grab it before it slides off of the counter, but you miss. The spoon plummets to the ground with a little ding when it connects to the tiles you were sitting on not too long ago.

That's when the laughter started.

You kneel over, hand covering your mouth as you begin to laugh. Gojo is doing the same from his side of the counter, about to fall to the ground. A little snort escapes you, causing Gojo to laugh even harder. You look like little kids with how much you are laughing over the tiniest thing.

"Whoops!," your husband eventually manages to wheeze out.

If you didn't know any better, you might think you have been laughing for hours before you can finally catch your breath again. Gojo keeps clumsily knocking things over, and every time you think you are about to calm down to a rational level, he does another thing that was just so funny. It's a neverending cycle.

You feel like you are having an out of body experience, with your skin tingling and your mind afloat. You have forgotten at this point what you are laughing at in preference of eating your ice cream. It tastes amazing and you do not think there is anything in the world you have had that compares to the pint you are digging from.

Your ice cream is so delicious that you have zoned out for who-know's-how-long. Between scooping ice cream from the container and staring brainlessly at the counter in front of you, you figure the brownie has made it's way through your system by now.

Gojo is quiet beside you, which is rather abnormal form him. When you finally find the strength to pull yourself out of your daze, you look over to see him floating around, practically bouncing off of the walls. His eyes are closed and he looks at peace, but he is bouncing like a TV logo after a movie has been paused for too long.

You place the lid back on your ice cream and put everything back where you got it before questioning, "Toru, baby? You good?" He smiles at your voice, pulling down his blindfold that has become such a part of his identity. His eyes glow, which almost distracts you from the way he looks so... thoughtless.

"Mhm, all good, lovie," he says happily.

"What you doin' over there?"

"Just hanging around," he says, flipping upside down midair, a cheesy smile on his face. You can tell he has recollected himself from whatever meditative trance he was only moments before now.

You start walking toward your bedroom, saying "Well, I'm gonna lay down if you wanna join!"

Immediately, you hear a thump indicating his feet hit the ground and the sound of steps rushing after you.

-----

"Mmmmmmmm," Gojo moans out. "They are so soft and squishy." He lays in bed with you, one arm resting behind his neck, and the other around you laying against his side. He uses the free hand not behind his neck in order to reache back into the bag of marshmallows and stuff more into his mouth. "Like fluffy clouds I can chew."

You lift your head from it's spot on his shirtless chest and smile up at him. A bowl of freshly popped popcorn sits on the bedside table (your husband cooked it up for you when you said you never watch a movie without some popcorn), easy access to quench your seemingly never-ending hunger. A rom-com plays, neither of you really paying attention to it, preferring each other's presence instead.

"You talk about all your sweets like that?" you tease.

"No..." Gojo says suspisciously. "Never. Mostly. Only sometimes."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm sure," you roll your eyes in an exaggerated manner.

"Don't worry, you're my favorite sweet," he reassures and leans in closer to you. "Always."

Satoru's lips are so close to your own. The ones that told you "I do", the ones that whisper sweet nothings after a long week like this past one, the ones that tease you relentlessly.

"Mhm, always," you repeat, but all you can think is how you want him.

His lips are the softest thing you have ever felt touch yours. You think about the first time you kissed back in high school; it truly is crazy how velvety his still feel against your own. His lips gently press onto yours, speaking a language only the two of you can comprehend. A sense of urgency increases the tempo of the song you create together. He nips at the bottom of your lip, and you let our a small whimper while his tongue takes the opportunity to enter your mouth.

He tastes like sugar.

He leaves one last lingering kiss on your lips, then separates to tell you, "You seem happy."

"A little," you agree, flustered and missing his lips on yours. "Thanks for helping me relax. Means a lot to me."

"Anytime, princess. Say the word, I will drop everything to help you out. Even if you don't say anything, I'll still try and help. I just love you too much," he responds.

"I love you, too."

"Aw, you're so cute, babe. So obsessed with me. I need to take a picture and show everyone how bad you're down for me," he coos, causing you to shy away.

"Toru, stop! You did you even hear yourself? If anyone is down bad, it's you!" you defend.

"I mean, you did marry me, so I'd say it's you," he teases back.

"You married me, too!"

"Awwwwe! So cute all angry! Pose for the camera!"

Bonus

With a box of Shoko's favorite mochi in one hand, you use the other to open the door into her office.

"Shoko!" You exclaim as she says your name, running to hug you. She smells faintly of cigarette smoke, causing you to feel guilty for not checking in with her as much as you usually do. Her smoking tends to get more frequently depending on her stress level.

You hand her the box of mochi, saying, "Here, take these."

"Ugh, my favorite. Thank you," she says. "Did Gojo's special plan go well?"

"I'm assuming that was all your idea?" you laugh.

"Kinda. It was honestly more of a selfish thing on my end. Satoru had been visiting me every hour while you were on missions and I figured he could use them to chill out," Shoko groans. You smile at the though of your husband being so worried about you while you were gone, even though you were texting him updates the entire time. "You gotta stop leaving me to deal with him alone."

"He's such a big baby sometimes," you chuckle. "He did say something kinda smart the other night, though."

"Oh, no," Shoko says as she prepares herself for whatever is about to come out of your mouth.

"We should make a 'bakery' business and name it 'Edible Arrangements'!" you announce. You fan your hands out as if emphasizing the proposal - one that you definitely were not serious about, just trying to humor your husband.

"You two are helpless."

-----

i always struggle with how to wrap things up so im sorry it was kind of abrupt but i hope you like it !!!! thank u for readingggg. again im still learning and didnt really proofread so my apologies for mistakes or anything but yeah love uuu

[yellowflowrs]

Hello! If I may ask, where did you get the idea of Carillonneur title for Sheep God in your Swap AU, if you haven't answer that yet? What inspired the design? What was the relationship between Carillonneur and the other Bishops? Friends, family, or sealed enemy? What's the Carillonneur's real name? Did Narinder ever found out, like in the game? What's the Carillonneur like in the cult after being defeated? What inspired Carillonneur to create the resurrection ritual in your AU? What skillset attacks and eldritch form did you give them?

Have a lovely day come to you, drink water and eat vegetables regularly! Love your AU and designs of it.

Hihihi!!!! ♪(๑ᴖ◡ᴖ๑)♪ The first bit of the question has already been answered so I’ll just relay what I said!! ;

I got the idea for the name, and design, from the term ‘For whom the bell tolls/the bells of death’, and I forgot to mention in the last ask that the term ‘pull wool over your (?) eyes’ was also an inspiration.

The ‘Bishops’ in The Swap AU haven’t been really expanded on yet, but the general idea is that the stand ins for the Bishops are called The Shepherds, The relationship they all had were more so like co-workers, not really friends nor family, and each of them had their own personal opinions about the others. But overall they did have a generally positive ‘workspace’ if you could call it that, up until The Carillonneur was sealed away (kinda like getting fired lmao) so the workspace is a bit more toxic now.

(How the Carillonneur feels specifically about them; Before they were chained The Carillonneur was fond of generally all of them, after getting chained they want to skin them all then pour salt onto the exposed flesh)

Though, if your talking about the OG bishops (that are now mortals), The Carillonneur views them as simple nuisances and distractions for Narinder

The Carillonneur’s real name is Hades (named after the god), Narinder only finds out when they reveal it during the final battle. No one can actually say the Carillonneur’s real name, as saying it will burn your tongue. It’s a spell that the Shepherds cast to make sure no one speaks of them.

After getting slingshotted into the cult, to say they were absolutely batshit feral would be a disgusting understatement since an already deranged, unhinged and insane god being put into a mortal form is NOT a great mix. To put it lightly they killed (and ate) a few people.

They had to be put in a straitjacket and muzzle with shackles around their hooves in a special cell for them for a good (and I do mean good) while. No one is allowed to be in their cell except Narinder. Narinder visits them frequently to give them food which they usually attempt to kick at him, readjust all their restraints, or just talk to them. He taunts them every so often and finds glee in watching them in such a state in a really strange way. yeah their relationship is really , really weird. I’ll get into it eventually maybe

Overtime, they loose the shackles around their hooves first, then the straitjacket, and then the muzzle, and Eventually after a couple of years The Carillonneur actually chills out enough to be properly released and gets a cool makeover. By chill out I mean they now don’t ACTIVELY try to disembowel everyone they see… but hey progress is progress and now Narinder has a 6’6 something ex god of death running around. On good days they participate in sermons and rituals and they get the job of… wait for it…… playing the carillon for the church……. 💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥A💥💥AAAAA💥💥💥AAHH💥💥💥HH💥💥💥💥💥

They actually retain a bit of power and in the cult their status as the former god of death is known and they’re highly respected and simultaneously extremely feared, just as they like it. When dissenters or spies arise Narinder sends them to the Carillonneur as either something to rip apart or bones to grind their teeth on.

As for the resurrection ritual, I’m deciding if them creating it was actually as much as a big deal as it was with OG Narinder creating it, as The Shepherds may have different concepts than the Bishops do, so I don’t have a clear answer at the momentt,.,.. though if I do go down the route of resurrection ritual being as crucial as it was, The Carillonneur’s reasoning for it may be that they wanted to see if they could truly see where the boundaries were for them as the god of death, if they could find any loopholes in their power, and if maybe the bells of death could be rearranged to possibly toll the bells of life instead? Although , im not sure! :P

Ive posted their eldritch form, and if im understanding the term ‘skillset’ correctly then I haven’t quite decided yet as I only created their eldritch form recently. I guess they would have similar attacks to OG Narinder, only on steroids with tweaks here and there to their abilities. The general idea I have is that they’re very violent

THANK YOU FOR THE ASK!!!! So so so so sorry for the very big info dump here and I apologise for any mistakes …. Geehahrhrhy

[tgmsunmontue]

To wake, perchance to dream WIP 4/?

Hangster - Jake wakes up ~13 years in the future and thinks he has amnesia. Instead it's a glimpse of what his life could be. When he wakes up right before being called back to Top Gun for the special detachment he's going to try his damndest to make that future come true...

CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

                Attending Admiral Kazansky’s funeral is an education. Watching Captain Mitchell, watching Bradley, even watching Penny, tells him that there is something between them all. He knows in his future-dream that Penny and Maverick were married. But also in his future-dream Maverick and Bradley were… well. They were like father and son. A father and son that love each other, anyway, because their relationship in the future-dream had been good.

                It definitely isn’t good right now. They’re both clearly avoiding even looking at each other, and he guesses after the vitriol Bradley was spitting he doesn’t blame either of them if he’s honest. He’d be ashamed of himself, if he were Bradley. And he’d be feeling hopeless about his relationship with Bradley if he’d been on the receiving end. He has been on the receiving end, however he’s also got some vague gossamer version of a potential maybe-future to hold onto. To give him hope that things might be different one day.

                Later, afterwards, he can sense Bradley’s eyes following him and he doesn’t know whether to play it coy, or lay all his cards on the table. They’re meant to be back into training tomorrow. He doesn’t know what he wants or needs right now, just knows what he wants in thirteen or fourteen years and feels helpless as to how to get there. The decision on who goes isn’t up to him and he has no idea if it would make a difference even if he could alter the outcome. He has to hope that they live through it. Survive it.

                He gets through the day, works out and tries to keep his mind distracted from absolutely everything that might happen. He’s not expecting the knock on his door before dinner, but he isn’t surprised to open it and find Bradley standing there.

                “Hi.”

                “Hi.”

                “Uh. Sorry. Did you want to come in?” Jake asks, and he doesn’t really feel like this is a booty call, but even if it is their future relationship had to start somewhere. Maybe it started with the chaste kiss Bradley gave him, or maybe it starts now, or maybe…

                “Sorry. I just… Having a bad day. Natasha’s busy.”

                “Nice to know where I stand. Come on in… let me give you the grand tour of every temporary base house everywhere.”

                Bradley snorts quietly in amusement, which was his goal and Jake shoots him a quick grin. He’s pretty sure Trace is with Javy, but won’t bring that up right now.

                “You eaten?” Jake asks, even though he already expects the answer to be no.

                “No.” Bingo.

                “Okay, well lucky for you I can cook, and I have enough food for two.”

                “Thanks Hangman.”

                Jake just nods and wonders when Bradley will start calling him Jake. It’s been a couple of weeks now since he woke up and some things are starting to slip into a haziness; he second-guesses every memory while simultaneously holding onto them with an ironclad grip. It’s his future he dreamt. He’s going to make it happen. Bring it into being through sheer will-power. God.

                “You’re being awfully nice.”

                “I’m a nice guy Rooster…” Jake says, and he catches Bradley’s eye roll and ignores the little stab of hurt it causes.

                “No, you’re not. But I like that.”

                “I can be nice…” Jake says, and he ensures his meaning is made clear by sweeping his eyes over Bradley’s body.

                “I bet you can.”

                Jake doesn’t reply, instead sets about making the quick chicken, vegetable and pasta dish which is his go-to meal when he’s short of time. He tries to ignore Bradey’s eyes on him, is eternally grateful that he has something else to focus on that is keeping him busy but familiar enough that his mind can wander a little. Bradley seems content to just watch him in silence, so he lets it fill the room, not really surprised when it starts feeling comfortable. After about twenty minutes he slides a bowl across the bench and passes him a fork.

                “Thanks. Smells good.”

                “It is good Rooster.”

                “Bradley.”

                Jake swallows and nods.

                “Jake, then.”

                “Yeah. Except at work…”

                “Yeah,” Jake agrees, because that implies more time spent together not at work.

                Maybe it starts now.

…            …            …

                Something definitely starts, Bradley pushing up against him while he washes the dishes, his tongue licking into Jake’s mouth before it turns gentle. It’s weird, both of them uncertain whether they should be soft with each other, or rough. Jake has a ghost-memory of his times with Bradley, but it’s not the Bradley in front of him. The Bradley in front of him looks a little lost and sad and Jake fiercely wants to protect him from everything that might be making him feel that way.

                After a few moments it doesn’t matter, both of them desperate enough that it’s just frantic manhandling, their hands barely coordinated enough to undo the buttons and zips on each other’s clothing, push it away to reach exposed skin, then they’re both just grasping and holding each other, rocking against each other a little frantically and Jake’s been too on edge, wanted this for too long to even try holding back. There will be time for proving his stamina later. Bradley seems to be of the same mind, his fingers scraping over Jake’s scalp as his mouth sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and his hips rut against Jake’s frantically. They both come within the same minute, his whole body feels lit up from the inside despite the fact that he just came from good old fashioned frotting. Like a fucking teenager. Ah well, still better than nothing.

                “Huh. Think we both needed that…” Jake says and doesn’t let Bradley pull away, holds him close instead. “Did you want to stay?”

                “Yeah. If you don’t mind.”

                “I don’t mind. Stay as long as you want.”

…            …            …

                It’s a fucking shit show, Admiral Simpson taking over the training for all of two seconds before Maverick is flying the course and making it look fucking easy. God it galls him to have someone better than him but also be nearly twice his age. Then again, life goals. He will be that good, and he’ll be younger than Maverick when he gets there. He knows it. Remembers the photos.

…            …            …

                He can’t tell him he loves him.

                Can’t make him promise impossible things.

                Can’t kiss him.

                “You give ‘em hell!”

…            …            …

                The battery on his radio is running down and he turns it off, unable to think about anything else. It was all a dream then. Here is irrefutable proof. Maverick and Bradley both shot down, no SaR permitted. All he got to was sit there and listen to it all unfold, unable to do anything. He’s not in complete shock, this was always a possibility, they never shied away from it, but the sense of loss is immense and he wonders how people cope when it’s a complete surprise.

                He guesses they often don’t cope.

.

.

.

                He doesn’t move.

.

.

.

                No one comes for him.

.

.

.

                He stares at the controls in front of him, wishes things were different.

.

.

.

                Time slips past and he’s not sure if it’s even moving.

.

.

.

                Then Hondo is there. He expects to be told to get out.

                Instead he’s given the signal for turning his radio on and the canopy is lowering and he looks up at it in surprise; snaps to attention, flicks his radio back on, hears the chatter and then he’s switching to the right channel, Hondo is signaling for readiness and he’s nodding, giving the signal back and preparing to be catapulted off the carrier.

                “You’re launching. Now. Bogey in the air. F14 is friendly. Rooster’s inside. You good?”

                Oh god.

                He’s not dead.

                They’re not dead.

                He nods, already ready to fly, sees the onboard missiles swiveling in the directions he’s going to be flying.

                Fuck.

                Bogey in the air.

                Okay then.

                He can do this.

                He flies fast.

                His life might not depend on it, but he’s pretty sure his future does.

…            …            …

                Okay.

                So he saved his life.

                Somehow, through something miraculous, and he hasn’t ruled out divine intervention, everyone has come back alive. Obviously he helped but he still wouldn’t rule out something other-worldly helping him along. He’d thought the hard part was over. Except Bradshaw now seems to be avoiding him. He’d tried to follow him to sick-bay, been turned away and okay, that’s fine. He’s not married to Bradley. Not yet anyway. But he’d sort of hoped he’d at least hear that he was doing okay.

                Instead he hears it second or maybe even third hand and he wonders if that was deliberate or by design. There is one silver lining and that is that Bradley and Maverick seem to be… building bridges he guesses. They won’t leave each other’s side, although Maverick does come over and give him a hug. It makes him think of the dinner at Penny’s and his brain feels scrambled. He sees Javy talking to Phoenix, his expression serious and he wonders. They were married in his dream. And he’s not surprised his subconscious mind conjured that, Javy has always admired Phoenix, for pretty much everything. He’s just never actually decided to risk anything by asking her out, partly because he believes that if she were genuinely interested in him she’d ask. God he wants to know how their story starts.

…            …            …

                He’s not sure what Bradshaw is playing at, isn’t sure he has the energy to fight for something that only one of them seems to want. Bradley can’t even look at him, his eyes just passing over Jake like he isn’t even there and he hates hates hates it. Having his indifference is far worse than having his ire and attention. Indifference feels far more dangerous, like he doesn’t care at all and Jake doesn’t know what to do in the face of apathy. He can’t make someone who is apathetic toward him angry… Can’t make them anything. He walks through the grocery store, brain hazy with the travel back, the debrief and sleep interrupted with noise or nightmares and tries to think about what he needs when he sees it…

                The tea.

                He pulls a box off the shelf and turns it over in his hands. There are only ten bags in the box but he brings it to his nose and takes a deep breath.

                Chamomile, Vanilla and Honey.

                Instantly he’s transported to older-Bradley bringing him a cup when he was freaking out about being in the future, him saying he didn’t like tea and Bradley saying he’d like this one.

                This one.

                He grabs three boxes.

                His hands are shaking, but this feels like a sign. Maybe a sign that his battle is just beginning. He hopes like hell that Bradley is just really good at faking and is trying to put distance between them. Jake can’t figure out why they need the distance but he’s closing it up right the fuck now.

                And he’s taking the tea with him.

[rita-repulsa-ke]

Death and the Scarlet Witch

"She tried to wreck my life, destroy my family, literally murder me after she thought she'd stolen my power," Wanda says, using her fingers to count off all of Agatha's crimes. "She also tormented me with my past and lied to me. A lot."

That does, Rio has to admit, sound like the woman she loves. Especially the lying part. She can't keep a smile off her face.

This probably makes slightly more sense if you've read Scarlet. Rio goes to visit the Scarlet Witch, during the time Wanda is hanging out in that cabin at the end of Wandavision studying the Darkhold.

This one has warnings for lots of mentions of death, small-d, and also Rio is not always very nice. She is, however, very romantic over Agatha.

Death is everywhere. She is on a Road that doesn’t exist and, in that same second, she is next to the hospital bed of a young man, both of them ignoring the flurry of activity around them as nurses and doctors try valiantly to save a life that has already passed into her hands.

“I wasn’t ready,” he says.

“Most people aren’t,” Death replies. “How was what you had?”

He thinks about it, then gives her a tentative smile. “It was pretty good?"

She offers him her hand. “Sometimes, that’s the best you get.”

In the same blink of an eye, she sits on wet pavement next to woman staring at a mess of twisted metal.

“I wasn’t ready,” the stranger says.

Rio keeps her sigh internal. “Most people—“

An elderly woman in a nursing home. A child swimming where they shouldn’t have been. A man killed in a fight gone wrong.

Death is everywhere she needs to be.

And simultaneously, she is at a cabin in a beautiful, remote wilderness, a cabin that radiates an achingly familiar dark power.

She pushes open the door, startles a woman making herself a cup of tea, and has to hastily deflect the bolt of red energy flung toward her.

It isn't a very good deflection and in her head, she can hear Agatha murmuring, you’re so sloppy. You have so much power, but your technique—

Yes, Ags, I know. Shush now.

“Hi,” Death says. “I’m Rio.”

The woman stares at her, then gives a short, mirthless laugh. “I know who you are,” she says. “You have followed me all my life.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Rio says.

She can’t help but notice that Wanda is beautiful.

Not like that. No one is beautiful like Agatha, frustrating, gorgeous monster that she is. No, Wanda Maximoff is beautiful like an apocalypse. She is the end of any number of worlds, the potential for a sea of corpses the likes of which even Rio has never seen.

It does amuse Rio to imagine how jealous Agatha would be, though, were she here. She always hates when Rio is looking at anyone but her.

Rio never is, of course. Not really.

“What do you want?” Wanda asks, snapping her back to this moment alongside a million others. “Is it—is it my time?”

She sounds so hopeful.

"No," Rio admits. "I wanted to talk."

She isn't sure what she wants, not really. Revenge, maybe, but why should she? Agatha doesn't deserve her fury, would scorn her protection.

Rio wants to protect her anyway.

Still, there are rules. She can't simply take Wanda. And she's made enough exceptions for Agatha already.

Wanda's laugh turns softer and simultaneously more hollow. "To talk. Death wants to talk to me. Why not? I feel at this point we should be good friends, you and I." She sits in a chair that wasn't there a moment ago, and Rio is coming to the interesting realization that Wanda is not entirely well.

Agatha had told her once that the Darkhold broke weak minds. She'd told her that while throwing bolts of dark magic at Rio and crowing over her success in having mastered the Book of the Damned, of course, but the point still stands.

"Lots of people die," Rio says. "You aren't special."

"Aren't I? Aren't I special? The Scarlet Witch," she says the words with too much emphasis, drags her voice over the sounds. "There's a whole chapter on me in the Darkhold, did you know? If that is not special, I don't know what is." She laughs again and there has never been a more humorless sound.

"Riiiight," Rio says. She's starting to think she doesn't need to enact revenge, she can sit back and let the universe take its course.

Feels a little passive, though.

"What more can you take from me?" Wanda asks. "What more can I lose?"

Yeah, I'm trying to figure that out too, she thinks. "I'm not here to take," she lies. If Agatha can do it, so can she.

"…Do you understand grief? Can you?" Wanda asks without prelude, and now Rio isn't sure this broken woman, sitting in a chair that doesn't exist, is talking to her at all.

She's also starting to notice a very interesting similarity between that chair and a certain Road she's currently walking, a Road she always knew wasn't real.

"I do understand grief,” she says, no lies this time. There is something she grieves more deeply than she'd ever thought possible.

Wanda is still talking, still mostly to herself. "I had a husband. I had children. I had everything I ever wanted."

"The ones you made with magic?" It had taken her some time to find Agatha—she isn't sure how long, she's never been good with time—to find the strange little town and the stranger situation her beloved had gotten herself into this time. But find and save her she did, unsticking her from that miserable curse.

Not that Agatha had appreciated Rio sweeping in to save her. She never does.

Still, she remembers Agatha screaming herself awake, sobbing in Rio’s arms, and she does hope there is something more she can take from the Scarlet Witch.

Wanda nods in listless agreement, that family, the fake magic ones.

How fake is suddenly a very interesting question.

"Hey, I want to ask you something," Rio says.

Wanda only nods again, staring vacantly into the past with the expression of a woman who has not fully lived in the present for some time.

"When you broke the spell, you also broke a woman's mind and left her in that place, imagining she was someone else. Someone even more annoying. Why'd you do it, Wanda?"

Now Wanda's attention snaps to her, rivulets of scarlet magic racing up her neck and down her arms, and oh, she is dangerous, all that power with so little control. Rio can picture Agatha's sneer.

"Agatha," Wanda hisses the name. "Is that who you're here to ask me about? Death has come all this way to ask me about Agatha Harkness?"

"That's the one," Rio agrees.

"She tried to wreck my life, destroy my family, literally murder me after she thought she'd stolen my power," Wanda says, using her fingers to count off all of Agatha's crimes. "She also tormented me with my past and lied to me. A lot."

That does, Rio has to admit, sound like the woman she loves. Especially the lying part. She can't keep a smile off her face. "Still. Aren't you supposed to be the good guy?"

"Not that good, I guess," Wanda says, and now even more of her attention is focused on this conversation. Though much like Rio, some part of her always lives elsewhere.

Motorcycle accident. Liver failure. A bad heart. Death deals with all of them without taking her eyes off the Scarlet Witch.

"Agatha did also break you out of your weird sitcom project," Rio points out. "Made you realize that what you were doing was hurting people. Did you know, I wonder? What you were doing to them? Did you know and try to ignore it, in order to keep everything you wanted?"

Wanda comes to her feet, surges like a wave, staggers like a corpse. Her teeth bare with fury, her eyes leak pain. "Of course I didn't! Are you just here to torment me?! Do you think that I don't have nightmares about what I did to those people? Do you know what I lost to make it right?"

Wow, she's dramatic.

"She only did it because she wanted my power. I was in her head. That woman has never done a single kind thing for anyone in her life, not without getting something in return," Wanda continues and Rio can't hold back her laughter, high-pitched, shrill giggles that contain a note of unfettered delight.

"You've got that right," she agrees, and ugh, she wants Agatha, Agatha smiling, Agatha laughing, Agatha complaining about things not happening fast enough, Agatha kissing her—

Agatha whirling her around with a crown of flowers in her hair, her expression that of someone being tortured on the rack. Agatha, laughing too loudly, cheeks flushed with cheap beer, toasting to them both. Agatha, explaining some ritual in intricate detail while she inscribes runes, talking to Rio mostly to keep herself on track.

Agatha, in their bed, lit by the fireplace behind her, head on her hand, looking at Rio like she hasn't in centuries. "I've missed you," she admits, with a sly smile. "I've been thinking. You and I always made a great team. What do you say we get the band back together?"

This isn't right. This isn't how it happened.

"Can you forgive me?" Rio asks anyway, hating how desperate she sounds.

Somewhere a man falls from the top of a building, several stories too high for survival to be a possibility and lives anyway.

"Of course I can," Agatha says. "I love you."

Hah, as if. Even during their best times, Agatha never would have said it so easily. But her hand is on Rio's cheek, and she's so warm, she feels so real. It would be so easy to lean forward and kiss her.

There’s something important she's forgetting.

An ICU has a quiet night, no deaths even among their most critical patients.

"Rio, kiss me," Agatha prompts, and the smile on her lips is so close to being right, a taunting, teasing, tormenting expression. "My love, come to bed."

This is what she wants, isn't it? This is what she's always wanted, Agatha, gentled a little, sweeter, softer, but still the woman she loves.

No, she thinks, this isn’t what I want. I want the real thing. I want the jagged edges, I want the cruelty and the manipulation and the way she screws up her face before she says anything even slightly romantic. I want the way she makes big, sweeping gestures to prove her own power, the way she kisses me like she owns me, the way she sings silly, made up songs to herself when she thinks no one is listening and how she can never sit still, not even for a minute—

I want my Agatha.

A girl falls from her bike, in front of a car and—

Death roars back into the world.

Now it’s Rio’s turn to stagger, as reality reasserts itself. "...You got into my head," she says, and she's still so shocked that she's not even angry about it, only impressed. "Congratulations, no one has ever done that before, not even Ags."

No wonder Agatha went after Wanda. Enough power to, however briefly, divert Death. And suddenly, she's very glad that Agatha, who at least claims to hate her, did not succeed in gaining that power, no matter how much Rio loves her.

"You love her," Wanda murmurs. "You really—kind of creepily—love her."

Rio throws her head back and laughs, a shrill, sharp sound, the squeal of tires on the road, the scream of witnesses. "I do," she admits. "I really, really do."

"I could see you, for a moment. The whole of you," Wanda continues. "All the places you are. All those people. So many, all the time. I don’t know how you stand it." She sags suddenly, leans her weight against the much more real counter. "…Can I ask you something?"

"Go for it."

"When I die, will I see them again? My boys and Vis?"

"Yes," Death says, with absolute certainty. "You'll see them again."

Wanda sinks to the floor, pulls her knees to her chest and shakes with relief, tears rolling silently down her cheeks. "That's all. That's all I needed to know."

"Not yet, though. It isn't your time. You still have things to do," Rio says. "Because you know what, Wanda?"

Wanda only stares up at her, face slick with tears.

"You're right. Death will follow you all your life. In fact, I think we'll be seeing each other again very soon," Rio says, letting her mask drop, and she can see her own skinless reflection in Wanda's widening eyes. "You and me? We are going to have so much fun."

Then, as Wanda starts to form a question, Death is gone. After all, how could she take Wanda now? There is still so much the Scarlet Witch can give her, so many bodies.

Besides, it would be breaking the rules.

But it turns out that there is something of Wanda's she can take. Something waiting for her on a Road that doesn't exist, something she's overlooked, something Agatha, manipulative as always, has been hiding in plain sight.

Rio will make certain that Wanda sees her boys again.

She leaves the cabin, but remains everywhere else.

Somewhere a girl sobs on her shoulder and Death pats her back with practiced movements, perfected over millennia. In that same blink of an eye, she holds an old woman's hand, kisses an old man's cheek, listens patiently to a priest perform his own last rites and guides a protection witch beyond the veil.

Then she steps back onto the Road, hands behind her head, whistling to herself. She's going to go find Agatha. She's already annoyed by all that has been kept from her, and she has no doubt it will be a fight, one where her beloved will probably say something manipulative, cruel or both.

Still, even knowing all of that, she can’t wait to see the real thing.

Want to read something sad? Try Nicky

Want to read something fluffy? Try Flirting

Want to read more Rio thinking about Agatha? Try the thief

[pouralaura]

This is like THE question of the ages but here goes. Is your Raphael capable of love? It is my understanding that devils are capable of an obsessive, manipulative, perverted version of it; but the Raphael in your fics has a particular human fallibility that is endearing, and a willingness to entertain those follies (for the sake of his favorite mouse) that I’m wondering if it’s possible that he would (accidentally) fall in love in a mortal sense, going against his fiendish nature (it would have to be a very special mouse). I’d love to hear your take on his fiend/human dichotomy. 🫶

what a fabulous question. thank you for asking! I've thought a lot about this and I always come to the same conclusion: yes, my Raphael is in fact capable of love. there is a "however" which I will get to shortly.

let me first say that I really simply do not care about canon. bro lives in my head rent-free as his own entity and does not necessarily fit DnD/BG lore in that space. that's just a disclaimer, take it as you will.

Raphael's love with my Tav (both generic and my Eris specifically) is definitely just magnetic obsession at first until they realize how hard they match each other's freak. he power plays and power plays and power plays, letting his mouse in ON HIS TERMS ALONE until it's too late and she's as much a part of him as he is of her. fwiw, Tav/Eris's love is the same as his - but his makes him more human and hers makes her less, all for better or for worse. and I think his capacity for love has so much to do with the other person in the equation, which is extremely human of him - Tav pushes him back and needles him but also worships him in her own way, taking on some of his traits the more time she spends with him. some of that is unconscious and some is fully intentional. it's all a part of the Game, which, for her, is Understanding (literally figuring out what makes him tick), while for him it's Winning (taking what he knows of her and using/manipulating it however he wants). Raphael is a narcissist and naturally loves himself most of all, but once he sees himself reflected in another person I think that unlocks a new layer of longing and deep connection within him.

I've used the lyric I won't speak of love since the beginning of writing about the two of them and it's always gonna fit. Tav/Eris knows what the feeling is on both sides, because she is 100% human and overly perceptive, intuitive, and insightful. but she is smart enough not to push that understanding onto Raphael because attempting to force him to admit what he perceives as a weakness would destroy their dynamic.

which brings me to my main point: again, yes, he is capable of love. he is even capable of unconditional love.

BUT

he will not accept that about himself, even for a moment. his love is obsessive and manipulative and perverted OF COURSE but it's also his purest emotion, which is an embarrassment. he will ignore the truth of what it is fully out of pride. if Eris pushed him to acknowledge it he would drop her in an instant and shed all remaining traces of his humanity. it's simultaneously the strongest connection he has with anyone and the thinnest tightrope of a line they could possibly walk - but they complement each other so well that they've somehow found that perfect unacknowledged balance. Eris is prideful too but understands that to maintain the status quo she MUST swallow some of her pride and allow Raphael to keep up appearances for his own sake - which is one of her major ways of showing love from her side.

he loves her purely and earnestly and deeply but he will ALWAYS love himself and his image more. some might say that means he is not capable of real love but I think the two can coexist! people are complicated!

this is fun to think about and I really hope it makes any kind of coherent sense all written out.

[peachymilkandcream]

Fraud|Part 2|Yandere All Might x Hero!Reader

(A/N: I hope you guys liked part one, I've seen few people write a yandere All Might so I've honestly been enjoying this. A darker version of the number one hero is something I live for. Hope you enjoy and comment to be added to the taglist!)

WARNINGS: implied noncon, dubcon, manipulation, domestic abuse, yandere themes, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, stockholm syndrome, graphic depictions of violence, mind breaking, misogyny, power imbalance, age difference, etc.

===============================================

"Hero name, Shade, real name unknown, the agency is some low ranked hero, and her popularity is basically non-existent. Just some debuting hero with not much to claim under her belt." Nighteye finished his presentation by meeting All Might's eyes. The Symbol of Peace had been more irritable than normal, to keep him in a good mood he had to go alone with what he asked.

"Did she go to any major schools that could make her easy to recognize?"

"None that I could found, just some basic school where they pump out a handful of heroes from time to time. Nothing special."

"Utterly unremarkable eh?"

"It would seem that way."

"Which is exactly what I need."

"Why this one? Why all of a sudden have you gone into this state again?"

"You know how I operate, find someone who's just coming out, not popular enough to be given a second thought should they vanish."

"Then why a hero, why not a civilian."

"Because I simultaneously keep down any future competition. The old pros are no match for me, but some newbie could rise up and take everything I've worked for right out from under me."

Nighteye sighs, he's tried reasoning with him before, but it was never any use. All Might was set in his ways and if it meant keeping his need for absolute domination to a semi-healthy outlet then he would support him in any way he could. The world needed its Symbol, that image had to be preserved for the good of mankind. That was his job.

"Fine. But I would appreciate it if you could at least keep the mess to a minimum if things go south."

All Might doesn't answer, he doesn't need to. Both of them know he doesn't make promises he can't keep.

==============================================

Over and over Shade had replayed the previous days events in her mind. To get to speak with the Number One hero in person was an honor most didn't get to receive, however most of the interaction felt like All Might was just being polite, clearly he didn't think she was all that impressive.

But she had to keep trying, one day her number of victories would go up, and she would gain enough of a following that even All Might would have to take her seriously. Climb to the top of the charts and then look down on all of those who thought she was just another wannabe hero, she was going to make something of herself.

So lost in thought she didn't hear the villain sneaking up behind her.

===============================================

All Might watched from a safe distance while the villain he had hired approached his soon to be damsel. The first step in his plan was to make her feel unsafe, and that fate had destined them to be together with him as her sworn guardian of all harm. She would admire him more, let her guard down, and then he'd live happily ever after. Eventually getting tired of and discarding her when he was done of course.

The villain believed that All Might would pay him handsomely and then leave him to be free to do as he wished. Little did he know that the Symbol of Peace planned to take him in like any criminal, making sure he had no proof except word of mouth for the hired job, and things would carry on just like they always had.

He was an alright villain anyway, approaching too hastily, going for the stereotypical crime of robbing a woman's purse. Honestly, he could've done better himself if he was supposed to embody peace and justice. But she was getting scared enough that was for sure, so Toshinori made his move and stepped in.

"Have no fear citizen, you are safe now." He stands tall. "Now that I am here that is."

"All Might-!? Jeez, I better get out of here!" His acting was so terrible Toshinori had to stifle a laugh. That's what he got for digging in the bottom of a barrel.

"Not so fast evil-doer! I will not allow you to get away unpunished for frightening and attacking a poor woman!"

The thug truly believed All Might was still playing along, until his fist connected with enough force to throw the man in the wall and render him unconscious.

"Glad that's over quickly, such a small villain would dare to come against a defenseless woman like that, what a diabolical fiend."

He could see the look of admiration and gratefulness in her eyes, such a small favour really had an impact on this one.

"I'd recognize that fangirl look anywhere! Ms. Shade was it?"

"You remembered...?"

"Of course I did, not too often anymore I see a newbie with that much talent! I'm glad to have saved you my dear!"

"Yes, thank you-"

"Not to worry, I always help those in need, hero or civilian alike-!" He picks up the discarded body of the villain. "Now it seems I have to take care of this one before he wakes up with a nasty headache."

"O-Oh, yeah, of course, you have somewhere to be-"

The disappointment in her voice made All Might smile just a hint wider.

"Until we meet again Ms. Shade-!" He flies off, not wanting to risk the villain regaining consciousness and exposing what he had done. But he had a feeling this punk wouldn't talk even if he wanted to.

"Now let the fun begin."

[yonaioana]

Can You do A Seth x Husband reader Smut

Where the reader Makes sure he's comfortable and He feels safe...and makes sure his trauma isn't triggered and is always gentle and soft whenever they have sex bcs the reader knows about what he experienced

I wanna know How Seth would react.

Thank you!

FINALLY DONE!! This took way longer than i wanted, i am so sorry, i am not good at writing smut so it takes way longer to write it compared to fluff. So the timeline is after everything that happened with Osiris, the start of the fanfic is plot because I dont write porn without plot.

WARNING: smut, oral,

You were like a god on the other side of ennead and seth kinda just ran away to escape Osiris and the others and basically ended up in your temple. You left ennead a long time ago due to some issues with the others and some of them belived you died or something but you just built yourself a temple like fortress far far away so none of the other gods had the power to hurt you.

So when Seth stumbled inside in his attempt to escape and you told him that no other god had power in that temple other than you he imedately asked if he could stay. Seeing the fearfull look in his eyes at the thought of going back you accepted immediately, you grew closer as time passed by, even asked him out on a date, wich scared him at first thinking you will start behaving like all the other bastards chasing him. To his surprise after asking you leave to give him space and time to think. He came to you a week later with a hesitant yes. You were overjoyed but didnt show it much, not to scare him away, you were a little more affectionate but still kept a safe distance. A little over a year pased since you started dating, you were going to propose and you were very confident he would say yes, a few months after you got toghether he started seeking out your love more and more. He was like a cat tho, sometimes he would look for you lay around you and wait for you to take the hint, a hug, a kiss or simple pats but hold him a little too long and he's pushing you off with all his strenght.

Meanwhile Seth was getting more relaxed day by day, he hasn't seen anyone else from ennead in so long they either gave up on looking for him, couldn't find him or you just didnt allow them to enter your temple. Whatever it was he loved spending time with you, tho he found it weird that you didnt make any sexual advances on him, only letting him do what he wanted or if you initiated anything it would be almost always you sucking him off while he was fingering himself. The moment he came you would get up and leave to take care of the problem on your own, you belived that if you ever lose control and go rough on him you will lose him, he would hate you, look at you with fear or discust, you just couldnt. Seth understood what you were doing, trying to protect him, but he wanted you buried deep inside of him but also didn't want to ask. He hoped you would understand what he wanted when he whiggled his hips in the air while you were cleaning him or how he would sit on your lap grinding on your thigh.

He found out about the proposal you were planing when he came looking for you only to see you surounded by servants that were preparing to go out for materials. You wanted to make the proposal special and you asked your servants to decorate the temple with flowers and pretty fabrics. Seth liked that you were making an effort for him but he also wanted to actually get to have sex with you before marrying you. So with his mind set on the ideea he snuck away from the preparations. That night while you were half asleep, reading some scrools he came in the room, a small bottle of oil behind his back. You looked up at him and put your scrolls away but when you tried to get up to make space for him he placed his hand on your shoulder, stoping you, and just sat in your lap. You hugged his waist like you always do. He started kissing you simultaneously moving his hips, soon you got hard, while you were kissing down his neck while he reached down for your cock, he lowered himself as your penis springed up. You could see his eyes, hungry and a little dazed, as he tried to take you in his mouth you held his face, silently asking if he was sure, he softly pushed your hands away and wrapped his mouth around it. You had to grip the sheets tight in order to hold yourself back from bucking your hips. You wanted to hold back, to let him have control while he was teasing your tip in hopes you lose it. After a few minutes of sucking he got a little frustrated and justas you were going to cum he got up. You wached as he lined himself over your dick, pulling out the oil bottle and stickin a finger in his ass. As he was preparing himself you grabed both your dicks rubbing them toghether. He gaspped, his legs giving out causing him to fall in your lap. His arms legs started shaking so you laid him down on the bed, now sitting right above him. He removed his hand spreading himself open for you. Pushing your tip slowly inside him he raised his arms to hold onto your shoulders. You kissed him softly while waiting for him to adjust, one of his hands travelled up to your scalp, giving you permission to start you pulled out a little before thrusting back, your eyes trained on his expresion. His precum dribling down on his stomach, after one particular thrust he pushed his hips into you until he bottomed out, his dick twiched violently. He begged you to go faster, and faster, he could feel you rubbing against his gspot but not quite hitting it, he needed more, more of you, he needed you to go harder. He suddenly pushed you down on your back and bottoming out again, le leaned down smashing his lips against yours as he continued a more brutal pace. He held your hands on either side of your head as you were hopelessly gazing into his eyes while he was bouncing on your cock. You were getting close and judging by the twiching of his dick you could tell he was right on the edge, his eyes rolling back, his mouth wide open trying to catch his breath, his nails slightly cutting into your shoulders. You reached up cupping his face in your hands and asked in a hushed voice " do you want me to pull out or can I cum inside???". Coming back from his daze, and furrowing his brows a little he said " don't you dare pull out". While yes it did remind him of the other times where he didn't really get a choice he knew you would stop the moment he said anything or even winced in pain no matter how close you are, and thats what he loved so much about you, he wanted you to replace those bad memories and realize that he wants you to be the only one for him. With a few more thrusts he came all over your and his chest, wrapping his trembling legs around your waist as you sat up to hold him better. You came soon after, letting Seth rest on your shoulder as you were coming back from you high. He was half asleep hugging your neck, you tried to pull out and he whined tightening his hold. Realizing he doesnt want you to pull out yet you opted for slowly laying down allowing him to fall asleep on your chest.

He woke up clean in his sleeping robes the room full of colourfull flowers and you on one knee at the head of the bed ( I dont know what the place where the nightstand stands is called) " Will you marry me?". He rolled to the edge of the bed closer to you extending his hand towards you allowing you to place the ring on his finger. Pulling you closer by your clothes into a kiss and dragging you down in bed with him" Don't you want to eat? The servants made some of our favourite" Seth laid his head on your chest and wrapped an arm around your waist wit a simple "later". You kissed his forehead while rubbing the back of his head, he looked up giving you a kiss.

" My beautiful husband"

[ldysmfrst]

American Mate (14) - Does it Always End in Ruin? (TEASER)

Paring: Hybrid!BTS Ot7 x Plus-sized Human FemReader

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 14 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 10,980

Work count for Story: 107,440

Genre: Hybrid Playmate Au inspired by works created by @yoongiofmine

A little about the author: I am a mother of two beautiful children, one of whom has special needs, and the other loves everyone. I started a Patreon, and I would be grateful if you donated to help me make ends meet while I am out of work because I almost died in August of 2024.

Warnings: NOT BETA READ!! This chapter does have pack dynamics, Alphas fronting, a scenting session with hints of a panic attack, comfort, possessiveness, angst, and mentions of giving aphrodisiac-laced chocolates to Jungkook without his knowledge. There are also nightmares containing mentions of past trauma, violence, abuse, and threats of death.

BTS HYBRID ANIMAL TYPES: Seokjin - Roan Ferret, Yoongi - Black Jaguar, Hoseok - Marten, Namjoon - Alaskan Timber Wolf, Jimin - Red Panda, Taehyung - White Southwest African Tiger, Jungkook - Flemish Giant Rabbit

AMERICAN MATE MASTER LIST / LDYSMFRST MASTER LIST

You can scent me in the car.

You… can… scent… me… in… the… car…

It’s not like he is gonna do anything untoward– right?

Your body flushes with thoughts of the many ways the scenting session could go “wrong,” like pinning you in the corner against the door and backseat, ravishing your neck in a way that ensures you have a mark that anyone can see.

Following the hyper-focused Prime Alpha of Bangtan Pack to allow him to scent you in a car like you both were some horny teenagers with no control makes the walk through the Gala a blur.  

With how firmly Namjoon holds your hand and guides you with determination, you aren’t the only one feeling it, right?

But what would the rest of the pack think? 

Your mind was going from things that were not safe for work while simultaneously trying to throw on the breaks.

You were too much in your head battling away the thoughts you shouldn’t be having for a mated man, much less a mated man at a public event with other hybrids that you were 100000000% could smell just what you were thinking of. 

MATED MAN!

Your mind is yelling at you, coming through like a spotty radio, while your body is thrumming with the charged atmosphere that now encapsulates the two of you.

You could be making this up and reading into things too much. You did that in high school, which is why you started shying away from skinship. Who wouldn’t after getting humiliated day in and day out about being an attention-seeking fat whore in the cafeteria with no help from the staff?

Whatever, back to the issue at hand. He has mates waiting for him to come home. You should excuse yourself to the bathroom and call one of them. 

Jin would be a good phone call, and he is the oldest. 

Then there is Yoongi, who is almost powerful enough to be the Prime himself. 

Taehyung is supposed to be helping right now; maybe he… he can… Agh! What teleport to the Gala and leave with Namjoon instead of you?

No, you already let Jimin’s Alpha scent you at your packhouse. Jin, Yoongi, and Jungkook intentionally scented you, with permission, in your current bedroom, which means Namjoon should be able to scent you in a car. 

They all have said they want skinship, and you said you would be willing to try. Now get it together, woman!

Besides, you told Hoseok that everyone deserves a second chance. This is Namjoon’s second chance. You have never turned away someone in need before, and clearly, whatever Lee Min Ho did triggered Alpha Joon to come out, and he needs the scenting session to calm down. 

You were their Playmate, which meant supporting the emotional needs of your assigned hybrid(s) was also part of your job.

The next thing you feel is Namjoon letting go of your hand, which brings you out of your internal argument as he drapes your cape over your shoulders. You watch him as he secures the closure and fusses with it to make sure it is lying correctly.

You are searching for anything to tell you exactly where he is with any of this. You notice the rigid set of his jaw, which hasn’t relaxed since you saw him at the start of the dance with Min Ho. His breaths are almost a perfect count of seven in and seven out, which means he is doing that for a reason. 

When he looks at you again, those forest green eyes are dark and piercing. It’s like time freezes; unlike his even breaths, yours seems to be caught. You can see so many emotions moving behind those eyes, but they are flashing so fast, and you don’t know him well enough to tell what they are before they are gone. 

“Prime Alpha, sir, ma’am, your car is here,” says Jen. Startling you like she came out of thin air. Smiling at Jen and moving towards the car, you hear Namjoon speak with her in hushed tones. 

Now that you can breathe again, you take some cleansing breaths before you climb into the car and buckle up. Scenting is simple. It doesn’t have to be extravagant. 

You are in a car, for god’s sake.

As a paid member of my Patreon, you can read the whole chapter now with the early release benefits!

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[theflikchic]

Hey, is your mind boggled by Trump's constant yapping about Hannibal Lecter? Never seen Silence of the Lambs and are invested in the trainwreck of American politics? Well have no fear. In their most political post yet, a Canadian whose special interest is The Silence of the Lambs (aka me) breaks down Trump's misunderstanding and obsession with Hannibal Lecter.

Basically, we have three major points:

1) Hannibal is coming across the border because the border is weak. Hannibal is bad.

2) Hannibal is a great actor, now dead, he eats jerks, and one time, he said he liked Trump. Hannibal is good.

3) Hannibal is currently in America. Which is bad because every mentally ill person in America could be Hannibal. Hannibal is bad.

What Trump has not mentioned is the jerks Hannibal eats (this is important). Specifically, the version of Hannibal Trump is referring to is Anthony Hopkins' Hannibal in Silence of the Lambs. However, Trump has never said Hopkins' name, just the name of the movie movie. He knows it's a movie but somehow has not ever acknowledged that Hannibal is fictional, implying that a) he thinks everyone knows the name of the actor who played the Hannibal he's talking about (only in a perfect world, D-man) or b) he thinks Anthony Hopkins is Hannibal Lecter (soooo who does he think Mads Mikkelsen is? my mother asks).

Trump is clearly trying to make a metaphor with points 1 and 3. People like Hannibal, not Hannibal himself, are stalking America: immigrants and mentally ill people, sometimes both which is the scariest of all and which Hannibal canonically is.

However, because Trump never specifies a difference between Hannibal and Hopkins, it appears that he doesn't realize Hannibal is fictional at all and really does fear that he's either in America or coming to America to eat people. And yet, he keeps praising him? Why? Especially he's so scared of him, or the ideas he represents and is meant to represent so that we actually simultaneously fear and humanize him through the film's epic protagonist Clarice's eyes while Chilton hates him.

Let's talk about Chilton. In Silence of the Lambs, if you haven't seen it, Chilton is an abuser. He's the man in power at the asylum where Hannibal is. He is intended to be perceived as ableist, self-centered, and misogynistic (something more *ahem* modern adaptations I think have forgotten). At the end of the movie, Hannibal kills Chilton off-screen as revenge and it's...fantastic. It's meant to be.

Although Hannibal is a rich, white, cis man (definitely not straight though, I headcanon bisexual) and although he does horrendous things in this film (I cannot stress enough how disgusting he is), he is still being abused for his mental state. So him killing Chilton is basically the audience being put into the shoes of a revenge fantasy while the abused never learns his lesson of what it's like to be on the other end of that ableism (Hannibal isn't kind about his own patients he had when he was a psychiatrist). Trump recognizes that the ending is meant to be great. He praised Hannibal recently for it. But here's the thing: Trump is Chilton.

He's a misogynist, a preener, and importantly: someone who fears foreign mentally ill people and uses that fear and claim that only HE has the power to control these people to win votes and attention (Chilton does this, resulting in the iconic mask scene you've probably seen pictures of). But again- explicitly- Trump praised Hannibal for killing Chilton. So this leads to two theories that lead into two more theories:

1) Trump is secretly self-aware and knows deep down he's Chilton. But he pretends not to be so he praises Hannibal for killing him because, well, Chilton effing sucks.

2) Trump has no self-awareness and just feels the undertones of that epic final pun Hannibal says (and yes it's Hannibal's final line in the film) so he quotes it because he thinks it's cool and has no friggin clue what's really happening in the scene (this is the most likely theory imo).

Trump has also taps into Chilton by referring once to the Baltimore State Hospital in the film as a "mental hospital on steroids" (which he again recently said to describe irl asylums). He uses this as fear-mongering, to explain to Americans why asylums are necessary and why they should fear the borders being open: asylums are needed to keep these dangerous mentally ill people inside and they're ALL like Hannibal so when they're released...where do they go? In your neighbourhood.

Yet, he seems to love that damn final scene.

So again, Trump is aware it's a movie. But he still doesn't seem sure that Hannibal isn't a real guy. Chilton would never praise Hannibal so why is Trump?

And why the late great stuff?

Hannibal doesn't die at the end of the film and if you consider the 2001 Sequel That Shall Not Be Named canon (I don't), he doesn't die there either! So why all the warnings and then praising? Here are my next two theories and both could be true at this point:

1) Trump seriously does think Hannibal is a real person and that he and Anthony Hopkins are the same person. So he flops back and forth because he gets scared that Hannibal will come and eat him if he criticizes him too much. Thus, he says "he's great".

2) Trump genuinely has no clue what "the late great" actually means in the English language. I'm serious. He keeps saying "late great" because it sounds good, not because he knows what it actually means.

To top it all off, Trump covered all three of those points in the exact same speech. Plus, I don't think Anthony Hopkins has really ever endorsed Trump. He did an impression of Trump on TV once back in the 90s (he's good at impressions, autistic king) and I seriously think THAT'S what Trump is thinking about.

So what does this all mean? What's the grand conclusion?

Uhhh... I dunno. Trump saw Silence of the Lambs, and it scared the everloving shit out of him but he doesn't want to admit it and now America is in hell because he thinks Hannibal's gonna kill him? He thinks everyone is Hannibal now? That's all I got. I'm honestly surprised he hasn't roped Buffalo Bill (the other villain of the movie) into this what with America's current transphobia and all (please God I'm begging, don't let him bring Buffalo Bill into this).

Uhhh...if you read this far? Thanks. This is how I cope. All I gotta say is if you have the stomach, watch The Silence of the Lambs. Seriously, do it. Watch it chunks if you have to, sound down, with the lights on, in a safe place, any way you want to. I wish it was more palatable for people because it's a very important film, for better and for worse, and criticizes a lot of bullshit happening in the West right now. It's still very relevant...even if now for the wrong reasons (Trump).

[quirkwizard]

You haven't gotten a lot of Non Quirk questions in a while, so I wanted to send one that I think would be fun. What do you think would be the favorite anime/series of each 1-A Character? I know Tokoyami would be a Jujutsu Kaisen fan, but the rest I'm not sure.

Can I just say how much I enjoy questions like these? It's always really fun to get questions unrelated to Quirks, especially more light hearted, character focused questions like these. I appreciate you sending this in and encourage more non-Quirk related questions. That aside, I will expand this to include manga as well. There are some choices on here that I think are perfect, but I know that certain animes aren't the best adaptation.

Sato: Food Wars. Maybe Toriko if you want something more on brand with him. I would say more about it, but that would imply there is anything deeper to read into with Sato.

Koda: Pokémon. There really isn't anything complicated about this choice. Just a fun, lighthearted series with wonderous creatures under the main character's control.

Mineta: Without question, it's Kill La Kill. He's actually one of the few people who are able to read into it on a deeper level and what it's trying to say but nobody believes him.

Denki: I don't know, Seven Deadly Sins? Kaminari just seems like he would be the most basic, go with whatever's is the most popular kind of fan, never really commiting to anything for too long.

Tsuyu: I think she would be into cute and happy series. Something light and fun that puts a smile on your face and could enjoy with other people around. Think something like Spy x Family.

Sero: Maybe Steins' Gate? He's on the same level as Denki, but it's usually more along with critics are going with then general audiences and at least takes some time to think about it.

Ojiro: Pretty much any heavily technical fighting anime, like Hajime no Ippo, but has a special place in his heart for Dragon Ball Z. Who knew that a martial artist with a tail would hit a chord with Ojiro?

Hagakure: I think her being into Sailor Moon would make sense. Something fun and flashy. I could easily see her using her reflective powers to do the whole Moon Prisim Power thing.

Aoyama: I could see him being kind of anime snob, being more interested in really old animes like Revolutionary Girl Utena or Rose of Versailles. Just something really pretty looking for his Bishonen soul.

Mina: Again, another character like Denki, but instead of focusing on shonen, she's more into whatever is popular with rom coms or slice of life, like Don't Bully Me Nagatoro or Dress Up My Darling.

Jiro: I honestly see her being more pulled towards the soundtrack of an anime rather then it's content. Though I do think she'd be interested in Cowboy Bebop with it's general "cool" feeling to it.

Tokoyami: He certainly seems like the guy that would be into the whatever edgy anime flavor of the month. First Death Note, then Tokyo Ghoul, and most recently Jujutsu Kiasen.

Shoji: He'd be into the Berserk manga. Just one of that people that reads super mess up stuff and is one of the chilliest people around. The only time he gets angry is when you mention any of the adaptations.

Kirishima: His favorite would be Gurren Lagann and there is nothing you can do to change my mind. It's just too perfect. That being said, if you want to pick something more ongoing, I'd say Jojo's Bizarre Adventure for obvious reasons.

Uraraka: I think she'd be into One Piece. I'm not sure why exactly I picked that out, I just think that she would like it. Maybe it's the mix of good, light heart adventures, lots of action and heart renching movement that makes me think she'd like it.

Tenya: Pretty much anything related to Gundam. I could see him being into the mechanics of the robots and the amount of stragy involved in the fights. Out of all of them though, his favorite would be the objectively best Gundam series: G Gundam.

Bakugou: Bakugou is both sides of the deep Naruto fan coin. He's simultaneously the guy that's actually reading into it and understanding what's it's saying, but also the obnoxious dude bro that talks about it like it's the greatest manga ever without question.

Shoto: It was honestly really hard to think of anything for him. He just doesn't seem like the kind of that would be into it. I was tempted on Fire Force for a joke, but I like the choice of Fruits Basket better. I feel like the complications of family and bonds would speak to him.

Momo: I was tempted to go with Doctor Stone, but I had to go with Fullmetal Alchemist. She's definitely one of those people who slaves over all the little details and themes in whatever she is watch, her face glowing as she talks about Elric's character and journey.

Izuku: I really wanted to pick One Punch Man for obvious reasons, but I think he'd be more pulled towards Hunter x Hunter. I think he'd especially be interested in the power system that's one of the few in all of manga that doesn't have to do with whatever you're born with.

[rayman-chibi]

Introducing a side-story to my Rayman Chibi AU: Dolphins with Laser Eyes!

"Dolphins with Laser Eyes" is a parody series based on "Captain Laserhawk: A Blood Dragon Remix". This story changes things to retell the original in a much more humorous way while also changing the characters a bit to be more in-line with their game counterparts and follows the story of the S.P.I.R.I.T. Farts comprising of Dolph "Dolphin" Laserhawk, his adopted sister Jade, their uncle and caretaker Pey'j, the not-so-secret agent Alex Taylor (alias "Agent Hot Wheels"), and his longest-running pupil Agent Bullfrog. They're out to stop Eden, the evil organization that stripped America of its freedom, but not before getting into some of the weird shenanigans without them, what with an apocalypse happening simultaneously and whatnot. They're also joined by Ramon "Rayman" le Grand, Eden's poster-boy and a former TV star and cafe owner who got bored of his lifestyle and wanted to get out more often.

Characters:

Dolph "Dolphin" Laserhawk: The main character of the story. Like his original iteration, he was used by Eden as a weapon instead of being treated more humanly, so he quit. Some traumatizing stuff happens to him, like the time he thought he found someone who cared about him, but it turned out that he was betrayed by him and he nearly got caught... and then he ended up running into a forest and going into hiding there. Now he's the adopted brother and nephew of Jade and Pey'j respectively, but ever since he rediscovered his powers and some forces sent by Eden attacked their home, they all agreed to go back to the city to fight Eden and to protect everything they loved, even going so far as to meet a speed-controlling agent and his "pet" frog, who asked if they could take on the evil forces head-on. Though Dolph was a bit more hesitant on accepting Agent Hot Wheels's offer, seeing as he reminded him of a familiar yet horrifying figure, he agreed alongside Jade and Pey'j, and the three became part of the S.P.I.R.I.T. Farts program. The only main difference from his first counterpart? Well, he expected the whole thing to be his story, but uhh... well, with so much else going on, he's much more confused than scared of what is even happening around him.

Ramon "Rayman" le Grand: He's the star of the show, the reason you tune into Eden's channel, the wacky thingy who makes everyone smile... at least, that's what Eden wanted him to be. Not one person can outmatch his uniqueness due to his strange body and his most charming charisma. The ladies love him, people at his bar love him, seemingly everyone loves him... everyone except those who are against Eden as a whole. Rayman, who notices this, wants to achieve the impossible: to make everyone, even his greatest enemies, happy, so he escapes, leaving his luxurious life behind... only to be jumped by a random angry mob. And then he accidentally jumps onto the S.P.I.R.I.T. Farts' car. And then they jump on him- wow, poor guy, am I right? Despite this, they decide to keep him around as their "hostage", but you know what? To him, it felt like it was the greatest honor he's ever had; in a pretty twisted way, he doesn't feel so... alone anymore...

Alex "Hot Wheels" Taylor: A middle-aged man and yet a fit special agent who works for S.P.I.R.I.T., who, with his trusty remote, has the ability to manipulate one's perception of speed and time with the push of a button, and who mentors and supervises the Farts. He even used to be a Fart himself; apparently, he got accused of a crime he didn't do, but the former director of S.P.I.R.I.T. rescued him and offered him a chance of redemption. Since then, he's sympathized for the group and especially despises Sarah Fisher for... some reason. Also he's... not dating Dolph? Like, at all? I dunno, I was looking through the characters' debut games and apparently he's from this game called "The Crew" where he speeds through roads with cars and worked for some lady to take down a corrupted FBI guy and Taylor's brother's murderer to clear his name, so I figured I might let him be more of a good guy but keep some of his negative traits both in the game and in the show. You can't really stop me because he wasn't always the bad guy. Just like how Rayman wasn't always a bad guy himself.

Balak "Bullfrog": An aspiring Fart with great reflexes and a utility of weapons on his belt. He claims to be the last of his creed, a group of rebelling assassins who used to work for Eden and guarded them with whatever chances they've got (though it was joked by the higher-ups of S.P.I.R.I.T. that he used to be more or less of just a fanboy). He was eventually taken in by Alex after accidentally getting himself trapped in a pet shop, though not before Alex paid to "adopt" him (he sensed that Bullfrog wasn't an ordinary frog, especially since he was literally clothed in front of the guy). Afterwards, he initially decided to play friendly towards the guy and reluctantly help him on his missions, but after realizing the truth, that being that Eden was the one to cause the apocalypse in the first place, he fully trusted Alex and the two became a crime-fighting duo ever since.

Jade "Shauni" Laserhawk: Dolph's adopted younger sister who took him in after finding him lying down unconscious by a brook she goes to to do yoga (because originally I wanted to put in "meditate", but apparently I looked up "is yoga a form of meditation?" and the internet said "no". The internet doesn't lie to me like that. Unless it's AI). Optimistic, headstrong, and an admittedly talented artist, she made sure she gave him the best their home had to offer, and the two siblings had fun hanging out with each other, whether it be practicing yoga or finding beautiful things in nature to look at and appreciate. She really cares about Dolph and is concerned about him fighting battles by himself without her help, so much so that when he reawakened his powers and deemed himself too dangerous to her and Pey'j, or when the evil forces attacked their home and he wanted to encounter Eden all alone, she was the first to convince him that he doesn't need to fight his battles without her because of how close of a family they were. After running into Agent Hot Wheels and Agent Bullfrog while on their way to Eden, Jade was eagerly the first one to agree upon the offer. Unfortunately, she was the only one who didn't have superhuman strength nor a powerful weapon, so S.P.I.R.I.T. gave her a mechanical staff to aid her in her fights. Why she's this ecstatic to take opportunities that involved taking down Eden and other evil forces is unknown to others, but it had been hinted that she used to work for them when she was just a teenager, only to soon catch onto Eden's evil ways and flee back to her home to tell Pey'j and the others about her realization.

Pey'j "Wild Boar" Laserhawk: The proud uncle and caretaker of the Laserhawk siblings. Despite having great amounts of strength, Pey'j is both brawn and brain, having built the house they lived in, several vehicles they could use to drive around the forest, and even repairing and reviving Dolph from his unconsciousness. He too cares about his adopted nephew being too stubborn to let him and Jade fight his battles with him, but he especially cared about Jade and her own safety more, not only because she's the only one in the family who can't fight unarmed, but also because he's raised her much longer than her brother, having done so ever since she was a little girl. As such, he considers her "his favorite child" and is a lot more hesitant on how she cares for Dolph, even when she was willing to help take Eden down with him, since he knows that she's putting herself in grave danger. Really though, the main reason why he even came with his niece and nephew to stop Eden in the first place was because he wanted to protect the former and felt like the latter would protect himself, what with the cyborg parts on him and all. Additionally, he's a bit more reclusive towards others, mostly towards those who seem like they're gonna hurt his kids. For example, when they first met Agent Hot Wheels and Agent Bullfrog, he thought that the two were gonna take them away to some prison run by Eden. Even after being explained to him that the agents were working for a rebel force against the government, he was still hesitant to trust them until Jade agreed to help, causing him to have a brief argument with her about the idea. He soon agreed, albeit reluctantly since now he has to look after her more constantly, and was soon a member of the rookie tier of S.P.I.R.I.T., the Farts.

Conclusion

And so ends the premise and character introductions for "Dolphins with Laser Eyes"! Really hope to draw more of this side-story, maybe play around with the art-style to get that half-serious, half-parody look I'm going for, but for now, I'll be seeing y'all soon. Take care!