#timbers army

[keepcalmandcarriefischer]

i am uninitiated can you tell me more about the timbers? im trans and always looking for sports that don't make me feel Bad.

SURE! The Timbers are a soccer (football) club based in Portland Oregon. The same field is also home to the Portland Thorns, the NWSL team.

The atmosphere in the arena during matches is something you have to experience to understand. I have been to rock concerts that were more subdued. The Timbers Army is the supporter group that takes over the North Side of the field every match. We have been described as a very "European style" group and are known for our loud chants, songs, colorful characters, and elaborate coordinated pre-match presentations.

I'm not going to sugar coat it.... We have been struggling a bit this season.... And last season... Hey, you can't win every year, amiright?

But we strive to make our section as inclusive and safe for everyone as possible. Security doesn't handle business inside the Timbers Army - we self police. And if anyone causes problems with the field or other fans they get Handled.

When it comes to supporting LGBTQ+ folks, we play for Team Don't Fuck With

We are not the only Supporter Group like this, but we are the best (unbiased opinion....) so if you find yourself unfortunately far from Portland, I recommend that you find yourself a local team to support.

PTFC

RCTID

[brungeons-and-bragons]

If you don’t like Bernard after TD:R 10 you’re wrong I SAID WHAT I SAID

[doolallymagpie]

I can think of all manner of upgrades Naomi would be doing on Bobbie's Shadow Hawk, up to and including the 3031 refit where she finally figures out Cortazar's "modular mount" system, letting her swap between the Gauss or the UAC on very short notice (and do very necessary repairs on that Sunfang, given that the barrels on those things tend to weld themselves shut eventually)

can't think of anything at all for Holden's Griffin, though, apart from the active probe system that already went in with the NGT refit

[ortut]

Corey Combrinck - John - Army Green (mixed medium on canvas with timber frame)

[ldysmfrst]

American Mate (8) - Time to Tell the Family Pack (M)

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

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 8 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 11,456

Work count for Story: 42,893

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 currently am not working because of a broken foot. I started a Patreon, and I would be grateful if you donated to help me make ends meet while I am out of work.

Warnings: (I am not good at this, but I will try. Let me know if I missed anything!!) NOT BETA READ!! This story will have a bit of angst, fluff, smut, f/m, m/m, and m/f/m. This chapter does have pack dynamics, comfort, Alpha Space, feisty Omega vibes, close proximity, and multiple scenting. Jin, Yoongi and Jk are extra touchy and Y/n is just along for the ride.

SIDE NOTE: This is my first time writing text conversations into a story. 💜💜💜

This chapter has a slightly mature scene within the story. If you want to avoid mature scenes, at the start and end of the mature scene, the following banner will be displayed:

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

“Are you serious? You agreed to be our playmate?” Soekjin inquires, stepping up next to Yoongi.

Standing up, you look at the two hybrids with a smile. “Yes,” you say, glancing over at Namjoon and Jungkook. “I may not be a normal playmate, and this may not be a normal situation, but I am willing to try to make it work.”

At your words, the pack erupts into exclamations of joy, shock, and happiness. The room is flooded with happy scents and a warm abundance of vanilla. 

Their reactions also make you smile, which only becomes wider when you become a Yoongi and Jungkook sandwich. Soon follows Seokjin, then Taehyung and Hoseok, and lastly comes Jimin and Namjoon. You have fully been engulfed in a pack pile. 

While it is all good and dandy, they won’t let go. Logically, you understand that they are just finding a way to claim you as their playmate and temporary pack member. The attention is a little unnerving. 

“Well, this is an endearing sight to see, Bangtan. I won’t disrupt too much. I just wanted to let you all know that I have sent over the signed contract. Miss Y/n only needs to attend a health screening appointment and clear her office desk by the end of the week. Everything should be good,” Manager Sejin says from the hallway. 

“I will let myself out. Remember you have a schedule tomorrow which Yoongi is excused from to assist her, but the rest of you need sleep. It's getting late.”

With that, you find yourself still in the middle of a very warm cluster of hybrid men. As thrilled as most Army would be, it is too much too soon for you.

“Umm, guys. Can we maybe take a step back?” you ask the group, resulting in unpleasant grumbles all around. 

“No, like, really. I need air, or space, or breathing room.” with still no response, you raise your voice, “I need out!” 

You are now batting and pushing for freedom while raising your voice, breaking the boys out of whatever headspace they had gone into. The boys move to sit or stand around the living room, now feeling mildly awkward as you are feeling disgruntled and overwhelmed. 

Once you can wiggle out of them, move to the farthest corner near the backyard doors, take a few breaths, and let the warm vanilla scent settle you. 

Man, you need to find out what kind of cleaner or candle they use.

The boys look at each other and have silent conversations with their eyes and hands about what should happen next since they realize they have overstepped yet again. 

At this most inopportune time, your stomach decides to roar like a ravenous dragon. Looking at your phone, you realize you ate last at the lunch meeting with Manager Sejin.

“It seems that my promise to keep you eating well and happy starts right away,” Seokjin says with a slight chuckle as he walks up next to you.

He hands you his phone with the Doordash app open. “Here you go, dear. Dinner is on me. Pick any place you like and order whatever you want. I think the rest of us should go unpack enough to sleep.”

The boys nod and murmur in agreement, moving to their rooms. Namjoon mentions something about no seafood, and Taehyung asks for nothing spicy.

“Oh… Thank you, Mr. Kim,” you smile while looking through the app, only to stop when a hand is placed on your arm.

“You are with us now. Please use our names or even nicknames. I hope you feel comfortable and allow us to use yours as well,” Seokjin mentions before heading upstairs.

“Names or nicknames. Got it – Jin.”

Before going down the hall, he smiles at you one last time, “When you are done ordering for everyone, just send it out.”

After giving him a thumbs up, you murmur to yourself, “Order for everyone… no, what was it again? Oy… I hardly know what I want most of the time, much less for seven Korean men.”

After choosing something you are pretty sure they would like, you change your choice because there is nothing you really want to have from there. After who knows how many changes, you finally pick a place that has family-sized shareable meals to split and triple-check that all foods are hybrid-safe.

You wander back into the room that has been designated as yours. 

Wow.

For the next eight weeks, this is your life. It's like an extended vacation but with working (kind of), hot guys everywhere, and a broken wrist. 

Oh, Derek! Pulling your phone out, you go to your group chat and send your friends a quick message, letting them know more or less what is going on but leaving out the playmate part of it all. 

Derek: So, have you made it home yet?

Evie: Why was I told so late? When can I help you too?

Evie: Are you home? I am coming over right now.

Evie: Did you eat? You probably didn’t eat knowing you. I will bring food!

Y/n: Yo! Pipsqueak, relax!

Y/n:1 )I am not home as I am going to sleep in the guest room at the pack house. 2 )You were told late because I just now got things settled. 

Evie��s name has been changed to Pipsqueak.

Pipsqueak: DEREK!

Derek’s name has been changed to Fluff Boi.

Fluff Boi: You think I won’t like Fluff Boi? Lol, nice try, pippy.

Y/n: Aaaaaannnnny ways, you two. I just ordered food for the pack on Jin’s phone, so I will eat it soon.

Pipsqueak: OOOOOoooooOOOO Jin’s phone. Jin.  Next thing you know, it will be Jinnie. Nicknames with him already there, Missy?

Y/n: Yes, he asked me to use their names or nicknames from now on and drop the formalities.

Fluff boi: Ah huh… sure… and did he say wwwwhhhhyyyy he wanted it dropped?

Pipsqueak: Wait… is there more that I don’t know about?!? Alright Fluff Boi spill since we all know Y/n won’t.

Y/n: Hey!

Y/n: It isn’t that I won’t. It's because they are technically clients of PMS, and I have to keep privacy. So, I will ask them if it is okay to tell my family pack for safety reasons.

Pipsqueak: Fine, but are you really going to be okay?

Y/n: Yeah. I think so. But I do need help tomorrow at my place. What time are you guys free to help me?

Fluff Boi: I just got an email about finalizing a new contract in the morning, but that will only take a few hours. So after 10? Pippy, what about you?

Pipsqueak: Is that gonna be a forever thing now? Pippy?

Pipsqueak: Y/n, I am free tomorrow as well. So, 10 am works.

Y/N: Great! I'll see you both tomorrow at 10 a.m. at my place, and I'll bring brunch stuff. 

Y/N: Oh, I have to go. The food is almost here now. I should probably give Jin his phone back, too.

Pipsqueak: lol, you and your phone hoarding. Bye

Fluff boi: See you in the marrow!

Making your way upstairs, you head towards Jin and Yoongi’s den room. You notice that all the doors are closed but theirs. Not thinking much of it, you knock as you walk in and see Yoongi put his suitcases under the bed. 

“Hi, Yoongi. The food I ordered should almost be here, and I need to give Seokjin his phone back,” you tell him, looking towards the other half of the room and not finding the phone's owner.

“Thanks, Y/n. Jin-hyung is over with Namjoon and Tae. He is quick with unpacking and knows that those two tend to take a while if we want things intact.”

“So the rumors of Namjoon being clumsy are true?”

“I'm Afraid so. I suggest you leave any valuables in your flat for now,” Yoongi says with a fond chuckle. “Let’s head down. We can knock on everyone’s door to let them know to hurry up.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Yoongi and you knock on doors and yell to hurry them up as you head back down. Various responses come back in agreements and exclamations. Apparently, some are better at unpacking than others.

You giggle because you know you are a horrible packer and don’t unpack when you go on trips. 

“Did someone say something funny?” Yoongi inquires at the sound of your laughing.

“Oh no. It sounds like a couple of the pack members are not fast unpackers. So, I started thinking about the few trips that I have gone on.”

Ding Dong. Stompstompstompstomp.

“We got it!” Jungkook and Taehyung run down the stairs to the front door. Just barely miss running into you if you hadn’t stepped back into Yoongi.

“Yah! Watch out for Y/n! She already got hurt once!” Yoongi yells at the two, who are not paying him one mind because they are gathering the food that was delivered. 

“It’s okay. They didn’t mean it. Sorry if I bumped into you,” you say, looking over your shoulder while you attempt to remain relaxed, his hands resting on your hips.

“Remember I promised to protect you, so bump into me, run towards me, or jump in my arms and I will be there for you, always.” Yoongi’s face slightly blushes at his own words. 

Yoongi squeezes your hips like handles to guide you into the dining room. The two youngest have already started setting up the table with place settings and opened food containers. 

Pulling out of Yoongi’s hold, you walk over to the far wall and watch the rest of the pack pile into the room.

“Thank you for ordering dinner, Y/n. It smells wonderful,” Yoongi comments as he takes a seat. 

“Yeah! We love pasta!” Tae exclaims

“Joonie-hyung! She got your faaavorite! Shrimp Fettuccine Alfredo!” Jungkook excitedly yells down the hall. 

“What?! No! That is mine!” You yell, hoping that the Prime Alpha can hear you.

Soon enough, you hear laughter as the remaining pack enters. “You know, Y/n. You could make him eat the shrimp to start the process of gaining your forgiveness,” says Hoseok.

Looking at Namjoon, you see him give the oddest look at that suggestion, then meet your eyes as if he is waiting for your decision.

“Nope, it’s mine,” you walk over, sit at the chair closest to the mentioned food, and start plating. “Shrimp is my protein of choice. I will bite anyone who tries to take it from me.”

At your threat, the whole room freezes and plunges into silence. 

You notice the change in energy and look around with pure confusion. 

Seokjin, his presence felt as he walked up behind you and leaned into your personal space. His chest presses against your upper back, and his voice, low and resonant, fills your ears with a quiet warning, “Don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep.

Leaning to the side, you look at Jin, your nose brushing at his because of his closeness. With a hitch in your breath and wide, shocked eyes, you ask, “What do you mean, Jin?”

“While in human terms, biting is considered a bad thing and something that can be done in some kinky circles.” Seokjin leans to whisper in your ear.

“For hybrids,” Hoseok appears. Just as close as Jin, pulling your attention to him, whispers in your other ear, “Biting is a form of foreplay, marking, and mating.”

Your mind is fighting to respond to the information you just learned while your body is lighting on fire. You audibly swallow, which is surprising, given how dry your mouth has gone. Goosebumps litter your skin everywhere. 

In the end, you just nod in understanding as the two stand up and take their seats on either side of you. Once you regain control of your body, you dare to look around. All eyes are on the three of you; their eyes have darkened. 

“Miss Y/n?” you hear Jimin call.

“Yes?”

“Thank you for ordering dinner. Is this from a place you have had before?”

You let out a breath, thankful for Jimin’s redirection. “Yes, it’s called Buca di Beppo. They follow the Italian family-style serving portions. I thought it would be filling, and then we could all share. So, hopefully, I ordered well enough for the eight of us.”

“You did!” Jungkook pipes in as he starts to fill his plate, “Besides, we all have to go to bed soon since we have things to do tomorrow. I am sure our schedules will be shared with you soon.”

“Good, I am glad. Well… dig in, everyone.”

At your prompt, the pack does just that. It isn’t long before different conversations happen between the packmates, who are all respectful and trying to keep you involved.

After a bit, you realize that your plate hasn’t diminished even though you know you have had to have eaten the amount you started with. Testing your thoughts, you take another bite of shrimp with mushrooms and broccoli. 

Turning your head like you are about to join another conversation, you keep your eyes on your plate. It doesn’t take long before you see Seokjin adding more veggies and Alfredo to your plate. 

It makes you smile because he is doing just as he said. Catching his hand before it leaves your plate, you look at him and smile. 

“Jin, Thank you for providing me with food but I am full now and I don’t want to waste any.”

A slight frown forms on his face as he looks back down at your plate. Gathering a fork with carrot, broccoli, and noodles, he brings the food to your mouth. With his eyes on your mouth, he asks, “Please, just one more bite?”

Dutifully, you take the last bite in your mouth, licking your lip of the white sauce. You note that he is still watching your mouth. His eyes are still darkened, and his mouth is slightly open as he licks his lip as you do yours. 

Again, the table’s overall sound level drops, and as the tension rises. 

Swallowing the bite, you smile, “Thank you again, Jin.”

“Welcome, Y/n.”

“Hey Jin-hyung! Why do you guys talk so informally now? Is it okay for everyone now that Miss y/n is a playmate?” Jungkook whines.

“I want her to use a nickname for me too,” his foot thumping on the ground.

Giggling, you smile at the youngest of the pack, “You want a nickname?”

“Yeah! Please? Can I call you by just your name or a nickname, too?”

Looking around, you see that everyone is also curious about this change. “Well, You can use my name without the miss part or a nickname if you would like. That goes for all of you.”

“As for you,” your eyes settle on the bunny hybrid, narrowing in thought as you hear his foot still bouncing on the floor.

“I know! Thumper!”

The whole pack starts to laugh at the nickname you gave him. “What? He is a bunny hybrid, he is full of energy, and he thumps his left foot – he is just like Thumper. I loved Thumper in Bambi!”

At your reasoning, Jungkook starts blushing and sinking in his seat. “You can call me Thumper if you want to.”

With dinner finished, you attempted to help clean up but were quickly shooed out of the dining room and kitchen. Jungkook, Yoongi, and Hoseok herding you into your room.

All of you end up piling on the huge bed. You are sandwiched between Yoongi and Jungkook, but surprisingly, it's not uncomfortable. Hoseok is at the end of the bed.

“Y/n, first off. Thank you for ordering dinner at Jin’s expense,” Hoseok starts. “Thank you for letting us use your name too.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. I mean if we are going to be living together for the foreseeable future, we might as well be friendly about it right?” 

A hand touching your arm pulls your attention to the bunny hybrid, “Y/n, are you really okay with the skinship? You seem to get overwhelmed by it, and I don’t… I don’t want to be too much for you.”

“Oh, Thumper.” Jungkook blushes at the new nickname, and you giggle, which brings smiles all around.

“Skinship is a strange topic for me. In America, it’s not seen as anything special, kinda. Well… agh.” Running your hand through your hair, you huff.

“I used to be very touchy feely when I was younger and in like high school because I thought that is what you were supposed to do.”

Fiddling with your… Yoongi’s sweater, you continue, “After some hateful comments and talking with my best friend, Evie. I figured out that I was doing pack-like stuff with the humans. And… well, I was branded a umm… A slut.”

“Fucking humans,” grumbles Yoongi. 

“I stopped after that. No skinskip, no cuddling, and nothing pack-like outside of Evie’s family and then Derik. Umm…”

“Y/n, you don’t have to tell us anything,” Jungkook says. 

“We will keep the skinship down to a minimum or let you lead us in that area,” Hoseok says. “It may be hard for our Yoon and Kook to keep to themselves now, but I will talk with the rest of the pack, and we will keep to ourselves.”

You felt the two hybrids beside you shuffle a little when he mentioned their names. Jungkook removed his hand, only for you to grab it with a reassuring smile. 

“I don’t mind it. Surprisingly, at least not from Yoongi and Jungkook.” looking at Hoseok, you see a slight frown. “Hoseok, I will try my best to be comfortable with all of you.”

“I think because of this,” you hold up your right hand, “and their care when I was freaking out sort of made it easy.”

“Ah, that makes sense. As hybrids, we have a thing called imprinting. Most of the time it is temporary, you can ask Namjoon but I think humans have a trauma response like that.”

“That would make sense. I was going to University for Psychology but they never liked my work. My roommate in the dorm thought I was a hybrid because of how I thought and acted.”

Chewing on my bottom lip, “Hmm… maybe I should have majored in Pack Psychology or Hybrid Psychology.”

“Y/n, how did you end up at Playmate Services?” Hoseok asks, scooting forward a little.

“Oh actually, it was supposed to be a part time job. I was a Doordash driver when I saw that they were remodeling the office. The sign on the door said they were looking for part or full time front desk assistants and remote operators.”

“I thought that I would do well as a remote operator because I am good over the phone but I guess the head of HR thought I was good enough for the front desk spot. After working with them over summer, I realized that I enjoyed working and asked to be full time.”

“You mean, if HR hadn’t put you at the front desk and Yoongi hadn't hurt you… we would have never met?” Jungkook asks, pulling your arm to his chest. Now, he is holding you tight with both hands, like you will disappear. 

“I guess you’re right, Thumper.” You squeeze his hands back. “Now, you are stuck with me for the next two months.”

“You say that like it's a bad thing,” Yoongi says as he rests his head on your shoulder. 

The warmth of the two and the comfort they bring makes you sleepy enough to let out a long yawn.

“Oh, it looks like it's time to take our leave and let our newest one rest. She has had a long and exhausting day,” Hoseok says with a smile. Patting your leg softly, he takes his leave. 

“Yeah, I think I am crashing from all the emotions, and the pain meds I took with dinner are kicking in too.”

With a last squeeze of his hand, Jungkook gets up and walks to the door. “Oh, when I unpacked, I put a spare toothbrush and paste in your bathroom. Jimin also had me put in some of his spare face wash and face creams for you. Goodnight, Y/n.”

Scooting to the end of the bed, Yoongi looks around, “Do you have everything you need? Will you be comfortable sleeping in those clothes?”

“I should be fine, Yoongi. Unless you don’t want me to sleep in these?”

“I.. ah... It's… fine,” Yoongi stutters, his face gone pink. You knew he might react like this, and you smiled at how cute he looked. Your scent is blooming in the room. “I’d better go now. Sleep well, Y/n.”

With that, you are left alone in the room. Looking around, you feel awkward, finally alone after being with at least one person all day. After another yawn, you go about a nighttime routine using the products left by the two youngest in your bathroom.

Mind you, the products are in Korean, so you hope for the best. By looking at the pictures, you can tell which is which. Once you are done, you glance at the closed bedroom door and hope you have made a good decision. Staying with this pack. 

“What… hmm,” Jungkook’s ears perk up, hearing a rustling sound. One of the horrible things about being a prey hybrid, Alpha or not, is that you're always on your guard. While for some, it makes them live in fear, for Jungkook, it pushes him to be the best at everything he takes on.

Waking up more, he listens again. After a moment, he can hear his pack sleeping. A few are snoring, and Jimin is talking in his sleep again. Wait… the rustling sound is back, but it's coming from below. Getting up quickly, he makes his way down to your room.

Knock, Knock.

“Y/n, are you okay? Is there something that you need?” He asks, pressing his ear to the door. Hearing you move about, he stands up straight. 

Opening the door slowly, you look sleepy. Your eyes are slightly puffy, and your hair is tousled. You look beautiful in Jungkook’s eyes. “Thumper? Sorry, did I wake you?”

“It’s okay. I am a light sleeper, prey and all. Are you not comfortable? Are you in pain?” he asks, slightly pushing the door open. 

“The bed is soft enough, but I normally sleep with lots of pillows or blankets. I get cold quickly, but I will be okay. I promise to stop moving around so much,”  you say, pulling down the bottom hem of the hoodie.

Your motions catch Jungkook’s attention. His whole body flushes with heat once he notices you are not wearing pants. Taking a step back, he looks right into your eyes, trying his best not to ogle at your bare legs. 

“Ah. Pillows. Blankets. Lots.” Glancing back down again, he swallows. “Yeah, on hold.”  He says before jogging back upstairs, leaving you standing at your door wondering what has happened.

Like any young Alpha, Jungkook is giddy at seeing his mate in such a state of vulnerability and dress. To top it off, you needed something he could provide: blankets and pillows. They always had blankets and pillows. 

Going into Yoongi and Jin’s den without knocking, he wakes Yoongi by stealing his pillow.

“Kook! What the hell was that for?” Yoongi grunts as he watches the youngest Alpha approach Jin’s side and take a blanket off him.

“Y/n. She wants blankets and pillows. My Alpha says it has to be the pack stuff,” the thought stopped him in his tracks. “Wait, why does it need to be the pack’s stuff?”

“What are you two talking about? You are supposed to be sleeping,” Jin huffs, pulling at the blanket in Jungkook’s hand. 

“Kook, wait.”

“No, Yoongi. Y/n said she cannot sleep without lots of pillows and blankets. I am getting her pillows and blankets.” He says, holding up the named items.

The three of them glance at each other, now gathered in Jin’s half of the den. After taking a moment to process, Yoongi asks, “Y/n is asking for nesting materials?”

That question sets something off in their mind. All of them are scrambling to gather different items. Yoongi took back his pillow, covering it in his scent as his. While Seokjin did the same with his blanket, Junkook ran to his room to get his body pillow. The three met in the hall before heading downstairs, trying not to wake the rest of the house. 

Coming to the door, Jungkook jumped in front of them. “Wait! She asked me. I want to be the first to give her something to nest with, please.”

“Awhhh… look at our little bun. He is trying to be a good Alpha and provide for her. Isn’t it cute?” Seokjin coos, and Yoongi chuckles.

“Hyuuunngg, don’t make fun of me.”

“He is just teasing you out of love, Kook. Of course, you can go first. We won’t take that from you,” Yoongi says. “Now go on. We are right behind you.”

Knock Knock

“The door is open, Thumper.” You call from inside. 

He pushes it open and walks in with the others right behind him. You straighten up and smile at the addition of the others coming in, too. The first thing Jungkook looks at is– your legs, of course. Why would he not? 

It isn’t until the others find you sitting on your bed that you notice they are all looking down, which causes you to look down. Then it clicks. You are not wearing sweatpants anymore. Quickly, you grab the coverlet at the end of the bed and hide your legs, breaking their gaze.

“Sorry, it’s a habit. I don’t like pants when I sleep. It feels like I am trapped again.”

“No, it's okay. We shouldn’t have focused on that. It just wasn’t expected. Umm..” Junkook blushes deeply, looking anywhere but you, and then he remembers why they are in your bedroom again.

“Oh, we brought you pillows and blankets,” he says, holding his body pillow. “This is one of my body pillows. I love to cuddle up with it when I am sleeping alone, and it’s super soft.”

You take the pillow gently, “What will you use now?”

“Oh, I will sleep with Jin tonight. It’s normal for me to sleep with someone else on the first night in a new pack house.” Jungkook fibs because the thought of you not using it because it was his only body pillow would not go over well with his Alpha.

You glance at Jin, who nods in agreement: “It is rare when he actually sleeps alone. It typically only happens when he has an individual schedule or he has to get up before anyone else. But here,” he goes to place a blanket on the bottom of your bed.

His eyes take in how you have bunched up the decorative throw pillows along the wall, the duvet in the middle of the bed like a wall, and it looks like another quilt from somewhere at the foot of the bed. Not knowing where to put the blanket down, he looks at you with a raised eyebrow. 

“Oh, here.” You hop off the bed, putting the coverlet back in its place. You take Jin's soft and silky blanket, the scent of cherries puffing out. “Mmmm… smells good.” You comment while climbing back on the bed.

The hybrids watch your movements with interest, watching Yoongi's hoodie barely cover you. Their Alphas purr at your level of comfort while you enjoy the view. Not only are you showing off your plush, milky thighs as you crawl away from them, but you are giving the three Alphas your back, which means that you do not find them a threat. 

To top it off, you are building a nest—a Nest of all things inside their pack house!

While clearly, it’s a small nest meant for personal use and not a pack nest, it doesn’t matter to the Alphas. They cannot wait to tell the others about your nest and maybe one day be invited to join you in the nest. 

Pulling the blanket and placing it inside the bowl of bedding, you leave some hanging over the side. Grabbing the body pillow, you stuff it against the wall with a smile.

“There, much better.” You turn and sit cross-legged, pulling the hoodie down over your knees, but stop because you remember it is a Valentino and don’t want to stretch it. 

Looking at Yoongi, you notice he is holding a pillow, “Is that for me, or are you planning to sleep over?”

“Sleep…sleep over?” Yoongi questions.

“Is sleeping over an option?” Jungkook asks, his ears standing straight up with interest.

“No, no… no sleeping over Kook. It’s her first night here, and she needs her space. We have to respect that.” Seokjin intervenes. 

“Thank you, Jin. I do like sleepovers, and it is your pack house.” You offhandedly comment while making minor adjustments to the bedding. 

“Umm... Yoongi, the pillow?”

“Oh, right. Pillow. I had an extra one you can have. If you want it, that is, but yeah, sleeping over isn’t something I do much of. I typically cat nap throughout the day. I'm not much of a cuddler, really.” Yoongi says while handing you the pillow.

“Oh. Based on what you said in the hall, I thought you would be more comfortable with all of that.” Turning around and sitting on your knees, you place his pillow on top of your pillow at the head of the bed. Looking over your shoulder, you ask, “Is that all you boys brought?”

The sheer thought that they had not brought you enough nesting materials to make you content shocks the boys with concern. Serious faces across them all as they start to think of other things they could bring down to you. Then, as if a switch was flipped, they all scampered out of the room and back upstairs. 

“Huh? Where are they going?” you mutter as you go back to rearranging the bed again now that you have more things to snuggle with. 

After about five minutes, some hollers and lots of yelled apologies, the boys come back to the room with even more blankets and pillows. Standing around the bed with hopeful but still concerned looks on their faces, you move to the edge, smiling brightly at all the soft bedding you could choose from. 

“Oh wow, I didn’t know that you all had so much extra bedding.”

The boys share a look that you miss. The three of them know that they have four other confused and upset mates upstairs to whom they owe explanations for stealing the stuff they were using. But you don’t need to know that right now. 

Once you have torn down and rebuilt the bed again, it now contains a body pillow from Jungkook and Jimin, pillows from Yoongi and Hoseok, and blankets from Jin, Taehyung, and Namjoon. Settling in the middle, you start to feel more at home. Your sweetpea scent is missing as the Alphas’ scents cascade in waves heavy with vanilla and, indicating to the whole house how happy they are providing for you.

“Thank you, all. I know I am strange, but it just makes me feel more comfortable to have it like this. The soft pillows, the walls of blankets. It's kinda like a blanket fort, or as my best friend Evie always tells people that I can make the best human nests.”

“Ah yeah nests, hybrids do that often but Omegas are the best at them. Jimin makes them for our pack since we do not have an omega but maybe one day you two can make a nest or fort in the living room or something on a day off for everyone?” Jin asks cautiously. 

“Oh! That would be so much fun, but then again, I am not sure he would want to make one with me. I don’t think he likes me much.”

“Give him time, dear,” Jin says as he moves closer to the head of the bed where you are resting.  “He took what happened with the last playmate harder than he let on.”

“Oh. That makes sense. Well, I won’t push him to get close to me. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable.”

“You are sweet, Y/n. Jimin will like that. He won’t stay away for long,” Jungkook adds. “Umm it’s late. Can we scent you before we go? It will help us sleep.”

“Kookie! Don’t ask her that,” Jin scolded the youngest. 

“Jin! It’s okay. You can scent me if you wish. It’s not like you haven’t done it before,” you playfully glare at Jin as you remember being told he did it in his Den.

“Well, I was just trying to keep you and me calm while we were talking,” Jin whines.

“It’s okay. The three of you have been so supportive, feeding me, keeping me calm, and protecting me. Now you are providing me with additional comforts to sleep. How could I be rude and not let you scent me?”

Smiling with his bunny teeth on full display, Jungkook hops onto the bed, careful not to knock anything over. He grabs your hand and pulls you closer to them all. 

You giggle at the hybrid, holding your hands to Jungkook and Seokjin. 

The eldest goes first, taking your left hand and gently kissing the back before turning it over and taking a deep breath. He glances at your face, still calm and slightly pink from the kiss. He locks eyes with you, and he kisses your wrist. Seeing your eyes widen slightly but not feeling you move away, he becomes bold and licks the skin once with a slight nip before releasing you from his grip. 

“Good night, dearie. I shall see you tomorrow afternoon. Most of us will be gone before you wake up,” he says, leaving.

Looking over at Yoongi, Jungkook and he share some kind of wordless conversation, leaving Yoongi shaking his head and walking closer.

“It seems our bun wants to be the last to scent you, which is fine. After all, he is your Alpha right now.” 

Completely ignoring your look of confusion at the note of possession in what was just said. Yoongi places one knee on the bed and leans over to you, touching your forehead with his. Breathing deeply, he rolls his forehead along yours and ends by rubbing your temples together. 

A smile graces your face at the familiarity of it all since Evie and her family would do the same with you whenever you were to leave the house. The instinct to roll your head to the other side and rub your temple on the other side comes on its own but sends the jaguar hybrid for a loop, his heart fluttering at the action, which means so much to him. With a smile on his face and a warmth in his heart, Yoongi leaves the room.

You may not be a hybrid, but you sure do act like one, and it just makes Yoongi feel as light as a feather. Sleep will be easy for him… even without his favorite pillow.

“Umm.. Y/n, do you know much about bunny hybrids?” Jungkook asks nervously while he runs his fingers over the brace on your wrist.

“Nope,” you pop the p and smile at him expectantly.

“Do you know the common areas of scent glands? Human or not?”

“Oh, I know this! The glands are pretty much anywhere someone can sweat, but there is also the wrist. Simply running wrist to wrist with someone will transfer scent, but things like kissing, licking, or biting the area will cause more scent to leak out, much like oil being squeezed out of a sponge.”

“That is surprisingly accurate��� for most hybrids,” Jungkook looks up from your wrist. “I am sure you know that Yoongi-hyung or cat hybrids also have scent glands on their temples down to their cheekbones, which is why most cat hybrids end up with plump cheeks no matter how thin they are.”

“Bunny hybrids don’t have glands on their faces like most people think; it’s on our chin,” he says, looking up at you to see your reaction, only for you to have a furrowed brow.

“Your chin? So when you rested your chin on my lap in Jin and Yoongi’s den, were you scenting me then? Or back in the breakroom, and you rested your head on my lap?” Your face unfurrows as you look at him with almost a surprised but happy look.

“If I said yes, would you be mad at me?”

Your face breaks out into a huge smile. “No, Jungkook. I am just happy that you feel so comfortable with me. I knew a bunny hybrid in high school, and he would always run away from me. It made me think that I was too much for a prey-type breed to be around.”

The mention of another bunny hybrid around you spikes a bit of distaste in Jungkook’s mouth. He was the bunny to be around you—not some weak bunny that ran for no good reason unless he was nervous about being around someone so unique as you. How dare he make you feel like you were too much; you are perfect. 

“Umm, Thumper,” Yawn, “I like learning about you, but it’s late. Was the scenting you did upstairs enough for you to sleep, or did you need to do it again? I mean, you did ask.”

He looks over you, taking in your bare legs, Yoongi-hyung’s sweater bathing you in petrichor but mixing nicely with Seokjin-hyung’s cherries and a hint of the vanilla mate scent. A frown on his face because your sweet pea scent is still missing. It causes his heart to ache at how close you came to breaking the mate bond that has barely started.

Watching Jungkook’s face closely, you watch his eyes wander your form, his mind deep in thought. You can tell something isn’t settling well with the hybrid, and while the contract hasn’t been finalized yet, you still feel like you need to comfort him. 

Scooting closer, your knees brushing against his leg, you tentatively reach out a hand and slide it across his collarbone and up his neck. While his body stiffens, his eyes remain on your hurt wrist, but you can feel his pulse race against your fingertips. 

You duck your head down and lean into his space, cupping his face and bringing him to look at you. Your head is lower than his, and your hair has cascaded off your back to hang like a curtain, brushing his knee. All while your neck is bare and open to him. 

“Alpha, scent me.”

His eyes flash silver at your simple act of submission to him, which causes your breath to hitch and Jungkook to act. 

The next thing you know, Jungkook has you on his lap, with an arm under your shoulders and a hand on your waist. The hand cupping his face is now holding the back of his neck, and your braced hand is gripping his shirt. Looking up, you can watch as the smokey gray color blends through his natural chocolate brown. 

"Alpha Kook,” you breathe out once you realize you are speaking to both—at their mercy, in their arms.

The Alpha bunny smiles at you, calling him by name and understanding who you are interacting with. Tightening his grip on your shoulder, he pulls you closer to his chest, curling you towards him as he leans down. The hand on your shoulder tugs the hoodie away from your neck and exposes you from your hairline to your shoulder cap. 

Softly, like a feather, he runs his nose along your cheek, along the rim of your ear, down your neck, and across your shoulder as far as the stretched hoodie next would allow. While you fight to keep your pulse under control, you cannot keep your eyes from fluttering shut and goosebumps pebbling your skin. 

“Hmm… something’s missing,” Jungkook growls out, his voice taking on an edge that is not helping you sit still on his lap. 

“I… I am sorry, Alpha Kook. I never learned how to bring it back,” you manage to get out. Unfortunately, it’s breathy and slightly rushed.

“Fix it. My job,” the Alpha states before resuming his scenting of your neck and shoulder. Gliding his chin along your skin, stopping here and there to smell a particular spot. 

He can feel your braced hand pulling at his shirt gently and your legs flexing against his thigh when his nose runs below your ear and right where your shoulder connects. Lucky for your pack of mates, you are so responsive to his ministrations. Jungkook can’t help it when he has to have a taste and runs his tongue along the same path. 

You wanted to think you had it under control, but the moment the wet heat of the Alpha’s tongue hit your skin– it was over. The startled moan that escaped your lips was nothing compared to the explosion of sweet peas, vanilla, and jasmine that flooded the room. 

“Sugar back now,” Jungkook groans after taking a deep breath of your intoxicating scent. Taking a few more laps at the scent gland on your neck, savoring the taste of your scent on his tongue, the young Alpha squeezes your waist. 

“Might not want to squirm around too much, Sweets. Wouldn’t want you to fall, now would we?” He says as he looks into your eyes. His are turning back into their deep brown, the gray smokiness fading. 

“Sorry, Jungkook, I have never been scented like this before. It’s – intense.”

Chuckling, he helps you to sit back on the bed. “Yeah, I have a tendency to go into scent highs with my mates. I guess I just got carried away. If you didn’t like it, I could try not to scent you often.” 

“NO.”  You sit back on your heels, both shocked by your strong disagreement. 

“I mean, no, the scenting was and is fine. I just… I just need to learn how to respond properly to scentings.”

“Sugar, you responded wonderfully. I wouldn’t change anything. If you think my scentings are something to get used to,” giggles, “I can’t wait til Alpha Chim decides to scent you properly.”

“Alpha Chim? Is that Yoongi’s Alpha?”

“No, Yoongi’s Alpha is Alpha Yoon. Jimin’s Alpha is Alpha Chim. Then there is Alpha Eli, Alpha Hope, Alpha Tae, Alpha Joon and you got mine right. Alpha Kook.”

“Interesting, but I think my contract will be over before Alpha Chim decides to scent me properly.”

“You won’t have to wait long if you keep smelling like his Y/n. You underestimate how delicious you smell. However, I can tell you are fighting sleep. I guess I should go now.”

“Oh yeah. Well, Thank you, Alpha Kook, for gathering things for me to cuddle in. I can tell the bed is so much more snuggly than it was before,” you say.

You quickly crawl into the center of your human-made nest. Making yourself comfortable as you rest one leg over Jungook’s body pillow, lay your head on Yoongi’s, and cover yourself with Jin's blanket. 

“Good night, Thumper.”

“Good night, my Sweets.”

The next morning is a blur. You wake up, borrow another pair of sweatpants from Yoongi, and borrow a hoodie from Jungkook. This time, the hoodie is from Calvin Klein. Yay, more brand-name clothes that you have never even thought of wearing. 

Jin also left you a travel bag to put your clothes in and a suitcase to bring clothes back in. 

After a quick breakfast, you return to your flat with Yoongi in tow. You didn’t see the rest of the pack before they left because you woke up later than expected. 

Standing outside the large but slightly run-down building, you are nervous about him being with you. You can already tell that he isn’t comfortable. Shifting from foot to foot, looking up and down the street, and sticking super close, fur leash attached.

“Yoongi, if you are afraid of being seen or are uncomfortable with this part of town, it's okay. I have lived here for almost 2 years. You can go somewhere else, and I can call you when I am done?”

“Are you sure?” Pulling his bucket hat down again, he said,  “I don't want to leave, but I also want to give you time with your friends.”

He steps into your space quickly as a messenger bike rides by. His arms encircle you, and a low growl is heard. 

“Thank you, Alpha, but I think you are right. I need to tell my pack a lot of things.” You run your hands along his shoulders, “but I think the ‘contract’ that Derek is working on this morning is ours, so he will probably break down my door to talk about it.”

“Remember, I am your protector now, Princess.” Yoongi leans in and scents your temple again.

“Walk me to my door, then you can wander around. There is a great coffee shop about a mile or two away called Grinders. They have the best espresso and really good crepes.”

“Sounds good.”

After sending Yoongi off, barely managing to keep him outside your flat, you start by trying to clean up one-handedly. With everything that happened, you had almost forgotten the tornado that blew through, trying to find a ‘run-away’ outfit for work yesterday morning.

Lucky for you, it’s a small flat. The whole space is open except for the bathroom and the coat closet. The front door opens directly into the kitchen on one side and the bathroom on the other. Then it opens to the bedroom and living room—well, living room if you owned a couch, which you don’t. The far wall holds a sliding glass door to a petite veranda, where you have a smaller-sized clothes washer and drying line.

Since you've been home, you have managed to hang up most of the clothes still on their hangers before you hear the door open shortly after ten. In walk your two best friends in the universe, Evie and Derek.

Evie lives up to her hybrid half. Standing only five feet tall, she has white and grayish ears and a large fluffy tail. She is the sun to your moon, as her many clothes are bright and pastel. She would totally be a Sweet Lolita if America did that kind of fashion.

Once she sets her bag down, she greets you with bounding, pouncing like glee, wrapping you in a firm hug with a purr before it abruptly stops, and she leans away from you.

“Who or what the heck do you smell like?” She asks with her nose scrunching. “I know you mentioned a temp move-in with a pack, but damn, how many alphas are there, and why in the heck did they scent you so much?”

“Ah well… so…”

“Y/N!” Derek yells, storming right up to you with a look of shock, anger, and irritation. “How dare you!”

At his exclamation, Evie turns to stand between the two of you. Omega or not, she has always been your Polly Pocket-sized bodyguard. “What’s got you in a twist?”

“Go ahead, Missy. You are the only one who can tell her without us both losing our jobs.”

“Does anyone want some water?” you ask, making your way to the fridge. Your mind is trying to figure out how to tell them.

“No, we don’t,” Derek answers, pulling Evie to the foot of the bed. Now start talking, or we will leave.”

“We are leaving? We…” with a leveling glance from Derick, Evie sits up straight, “Yes, spill it, or we are leaving.”

“Okay, okay. No one is leaving or losing their job. They agreed that I needed to tell my family pack what was happening to ensure no pack issues and safety reasons.”

Taking a deep breath, you stand and face them head-on.

“Evie, I know you are into anime, but you also know about things like K-pop and playmates and how we work with all that.  I already told you that I got hurt at work and broke my wrist. You also know that I am staying with the pack involved in the accident until I am healed,” you pause, ensuring she is on track. 

“Yeah, Y/n. We know this already, but what are you not saying?” Evie asks, flicking her tail back and forth.

“So... umm… The pack has seven members. Well, seven Alpha… male… idols, known as BTS.”

“Like the Korean Pop band?”

You nod.

“The band that Lily made me learn the fan chant for?”

You nod again.

“Kim Namjoon, Kim Seokjin, Min Yoongi, Jeon Hoseok, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, Jeon Jungkook, BTS!” Evie says, getting louder with each name as she stands up, her eyes unblinking. 

“Ah, yep. Those are the guys, and Yoongi accidentally ran into me but wasn’t able to stop me from getting hurt when he stopped me from landing on the floor.”

Running up to you, she smells you, “Okay…” sniff, “Okay.. so which one is he? Cinnamon cookies or rain?”

“Huh?”

With a slight pull on her tail, Derek says, “Sit back down. She’s not done yet.”

“Oh, there is more?” she asks as she listens to the beta and sits back down.

“Go on, explain.”

“Fine. Derek had to work on a contract this morning that will be finalized in a few days because there needs to be a medical clearance and a meeting with Manager Sejin, BTS, and their new companion playmate… me.”

“BTS signed with PMS to have a playmate. You. Our packmate is gonna be a playmate for another pack,”  she says, almost in a haze.

“Yep, that’s the deal.”

“For eight weeks with an open end for continuance, PLUS there is no exclusion of the rut clause, which was originally stressed as a requirement from BigHit because BTS is a mate-bonded pack,” Derek elaborates.

“Mate-bonded? Why wouldn’t they have the exclusion then?”

They both look at you for the answer to find you chewing on your lips with nerves, “Well, because of the injury, Yoongi’s Alpha is very protective of me because of the accident, and, just like you two, he is very touchy with the skinship. I mean, he uses his tail like a leash.”

That last bit causes them both to laugh, which lights the mood in the room. 

“Wait, so if Yooooongi—I can’t believe you are using his first name—is protective of you, then why do you smell of two Alpha’s scents?” Evie asks.

“Oh, I think that is Thumper. I mean Jungkook.” You blush at letting the nickname slip.

“oooooOOOOooooo, Thumper. Nicknames with the youngest BTS Alpha, isn’t he a little young for you? And common Thumper from Disney?” Derek teases.

“Okay, you know age isn’t a thing with hybrids. You all are very accepting of ages and backgrounds for the most part. Jungkook got upset because I called Seokjin by Jin and wanted a nickname too. So I picked Thumper because he thumps his left leg like the bunny in Bambi.”

“Got it. Well, umm… still doesn’t explain why you are wearing two scents?”

“I want to know why she isn’t wearing all seven,” Derek butted in and shocked Evie a bit.

Shaking your head at Derek, you answer Evie’s question, “The hoodie is Jungkook’s, and the pants are Yoongi’s. The two of them have been the most touchy-feeling out of them all.”

Memories of last night flash through your mind, and your body reminds you of the scenting session. You can feel the heat crawling up your neck to your face.

“Oh what’s that for? Look Pippy, our human is blushing.”

“Well, okay. So, it’s interesting you only smell two scents. I figured out kind of early on that the rain or petrichor is Yoongi’s scent. But it was when Jungkook scented me before he went to sleep that I figured out he was like this snickerdoodle cookie-type scent.”

“Excuse me,” Evie says with enough sass that Rue Paul would be happy, “Jungkook from BTS scented you before bed when he has a packhouse full of mates?”

“Evie, it wasn’t just him. Well, he was the one who asked but Jin and Yoongi did it too.”

“So you're telling me that World Wide Handsome, Golden Maknae, and Suga all scented you before they went to bed?”

“If that means Seokjin, Yoongi, and Jungkook… then yes, but I am pretty sure it was more Alpha Kook that did the scenting than Jungkook.” 

Evie and Derek share a look, both sporting shock. You look at them with a look of confusion, not understanding what their shock is since scenting is a hybrid thing. Derek and Evie scent each other, scent you and Evie’s husband even scents you and Derek sometimes. It’s like the hybrid thing to do.

“Guys, it’s just scenting. We do it all the time.”

That statement causes the two to start laughing so hard that Derek is on the floor holding his stomach, and Evie is crying. They both repeat your statement like it’s the most amusing thing in the world. 

“What the hell, guys?” You cross your arms and are sure that your scent has soured to whatever it does with you getting angry.

“No, no, no, there is nothing as ‘just scenting.’” Derek says, using air quote fingers and everything.

“Huh?”

“Sweetie, come over here,” Evie says, pulling your attention. You sit on the bed next to her. We always scent each other because, as you have said, we are a family pack.”

Derek sits on your other side, “I was honored when you invited me into your pack.”

“I had no clue what I was doing. I just wanted you to be around a lot since we got along so well. Then it just felt right to cuddle and do sleep overs like I did with Evie. Heck, I was super happy when Evie moved here with her husband and accepted your presents.”

“I remember when she got upset you added to the pack without talking with her first. BUUTT, the first time you scented me, you did it out of instinct or habit, Y/n and that was when you brought me into the pack,” Derek looks at you with raised eyebrows.

“So scenting you was what, like making it official or something?”

“Pretty much. Do you remember when you moved in, no one would touch you from my parent's pack for like months, and then my dad was the first one to hug you, which then led to everyone hugging you?” Evie questions.

“Well, yeah, I was shocked. It was like poof; it was like there was no awkward barrier to you anymore.”

“Right, because the head of the family scented you when he hugged you and accepted you into the family pack. It was the same thing when you cuddled and scented Fluffy over there. The next time I saw him, I knew Derek was part of our little pack.”

“Oh, okay, but I wasn’t scented by the Prime Alpha, and I think the only Alpha who was actually present during the scenting was Jungkook’s. When Alpha Kook is at the foremind, Jungkook’s eyes look like this smokey silver color.”

“Yoongi’s eyes turn this captivating golden-yellow cat’s eye.” You notice Evie's look of confusion: "Oh, Yoongi is a Black Jaguar hybrid, Jungkook is some kind of bunny, and Jin is a Roan Ferret. I haven’t met Jin’s Alpha yet.”

“It’s odd that you have met them in the first place, well, aside from Yoongi’s,” Evie comments. 

“Oh no, our little missy here has also met the youngest Mr. Kim’s Alpha, too. He is the handsome white tiger one. Your tiger sure has the prettiest crystal blue eyes,” Derek dreamily comments. 

“Taehyung. His name is Taehyung, and he has mates, Derek. Remember that.” You say sternly with an odd tension in your belly.

Snif snif

“Is that a burning smell from you, Y/n? Are you jealous of Derek finding your tiger handsome and pretty?”

“NOOOO! I mean... No, he is an idol, of course. He is handsome and pretty and any other synonyms that you wanna come up with.”

“This is true, and that is something you will have to get used to. Especially since you don’t deny that he is yours.” Derek says with a smirk.

Your mouth drops as you try to find a way to miss that little bit. The only problem is you can’t because your stomach fluttered when he said that Taehyung was your tiger. Instead of disputing it, you reach behind you, grab a random shirt, and throw it at him. 

“Hush you! It's not that he is mine. It's more like I am his. You know… I am his playmate or whatnot. Anywho... I realize that scenting is mainly done within a pact to mark pack members. I also know that it is done by accepting individuals closer. I have seen Playmates get scented in the lobby, for heavensake.”

"That behavior is reserved for unmated hybrids. Y/N, it isn't something a mated Alpha would do unless he was staking his claim on you to join the pack, but that is also left for the head of the pack," Evie explains.

"Well, this isn't a normal Playmate contract. You of all should know this because you are the writing it. Maybe they treat their Playmates like a family pack or an extended pack member? I am not going to read into anything. It always gets me in over my head when I do that."

Standing up, you get the travel bag and the suitcase and bring it over to the bed.

 “Now that you are all up to date, please help me with doing some laundry and packing in these. I was told to bring the essentials and things I cannot live without since,” you continue in a voice similar to Namjoon’s, “We will cover all your expenses; it’s not like we lack the funds to care for anyone.”

“Ah so not only did you get to play with Idols, but you get to be a sugar baby, got it. Let’s get going.” Derek teases you. 

After that, the three of you just do your thing. Working around each other flawlessly, for the most part. The two besties would remind you to stop doing things between letting you know the latest about Evie’s current attempts at having a litter and the tea about what is happening at PMS from Derek. 

Knock knock knock

“Are you expecting anyone?” Derek asks, looking at you as you look at the door with confusion.

“No, I am not,” you say, going to get up, only to have Derek move to answer the door first. For being a Beta, Derek has always been the protector of your mini pack. 

Letting Derek deal with whoever knocked, you go back to attempting to pick out which of your favorite hoodies you want to take with you, if any at all. You can tell the difference between what you are currently wearing and what you are holding. Guess fancy stuff really can make the cotton feel different. 

You hear Derek call you a thank you followed by the sound of… a paper bag? Looking at the Beta, you see a massive smile as he holds a paper bag from– Grinders of all places.

Derek clears his throat and reads something written on the paper bag, “Princess, I hope your pack members are taking the news well, and you are enjoying your time with them. I listened to your suggestion and am waiting here until you are done. I got hungry and got something to eat and thought you might be wanting something too.”

“Awh, he is providing for his Princess,” Evie says with hearts in her eyes.

“Shh, there is more,” Derek wiggles his eyebrows.

“When I saw they had shrimp, broccoli, and pesto crepes, it made me think of you. Apparently, you come here a lot because Sergio and Carlo told me to tell you hi. I hope you enjoy the meal. Yoongi. P.s. I got two hybrid-safe crepes for your friends. They come here often, too.”

You can’t stop smiling while Derek reads the note and starts pulling out the food. Yours has a smiley face on it. The conversation swayed back to you and the Bangtan pack all through lunch and up until you messaged Yoongi to come get you.

It takes less than 10 minutes for another knock on the door to come.  You happily answer the door to let in Yoongi, but the Prime Alpha himself meets you.

“Prime Alpha, sir,” your smile drops in surprise at his sudden, unplanned arrival. 

“Miss y/n, hello. Can we please come in?” he gestures behind him, which reveals that he did come with Yoongi.

“Oh, yes, please come in. Umm.. Welcome to my flat,” you greet him as he walks in, bowing respectfully at your two friends. 

You recognize Yoongi as he comes in, but he isn’t the last one. Dressed in all black with a face mask and bucket hat, enters another packmate. Looking out in the hall, you ensure no other surprise visitors are lingering. 

Closing the door, you see Evie and Derek. Both have come together, their tails and ears focused on the three Alphas now taking up most of the entryway. They are not exactly in flight or fight mode but ready to react if needed.

“Princess, did you like the food I sent to you?” Yoongi asks as he removes his mask and stuffs it in his pocket. All eyes turn to you.

“Yes, Alpha. Thank you for providing lunch for my family pack members and me. Honestly, I was so focused on packing that it didn’t cross my mind.” You smile as you approach the family pack members and stand a bit in front of them. 

“I know Jin-hyung said it was his desire to keep you well-fed, but I had a feeling you would forget to eat with everything going on. I am glad it suited you well. The shop owner seems to think the world of you,” Yoongi says while internally growling at how infatuated the taller owner seemed to be with you.

“I am sure Jin would be happy to know that you helped keep his promise.” 

Looking at the other two in the room, you ask, “Why did you two come?”

The hidden Alpha is looking down as he steps forward. Taking off his mask and bucket hat, he says, looking up, “I finished early. I was interested in seeing your flat and maybe learning more about you and your family.”

“Jimin,” your eyes darted to Yoongi and then back to Jimin, “Thank you for coming. Speaking of my family pack. Let me introduce you.”

Stepping to the side, Derek and Evie step forward, “Well, for proper introductions… This is Derek, a Beta Fennec Fox hybrid. You have seen each other before and maybe spoken. He works in the contracting department at PMS, and we have been friends since the interviews. He is also the newest family pack member.”

Derek respectfully bows to the Alphas, showing his neck slightly, which, oddly enough, fills your heart with pride. He then steps back and scoots Evie close to you. 

“This is Genieve, Omega Munchkin Hybrid, my pack sister. She has been my best friend and sister since I moved to California. Her mate is Matt, Alpha Black Bear Hybrid, but he never identified as part of our mini pack.”

Geneive also respectfully bows, following Derek’s lead before turning to you: " The only reason Matt hasn’t joined the family pack is that he sees this pack as more like a sub-grouping of my parental pack, which mates don’t normally join.”

“That and he says that you are strong enough to protect his mate like an Alpha that our pack doesn’t need him,” Derek adds off-handedly. This comment pulls as a reaction from the three Alphas present, darkening their respective scents and causing the two non-Alpha hybrids to freeze.

“Your mate does know she is a human, right?” Yoongi steps up next to Jimin, both holding stern faces.

“Yes, Alpha,” Evie replies with narrowed eyes. “How could he not? Do you not understand how strong and independent Y/n is?”

“Geneive, Alphas, it’s okay,” you say, trying to calm everyone down. 

“Jimin-ah, Yoongi-hyung.” The Prime Alpha calls his mates back. The tension in the room dropped slightly. “I apologize, but the last couple of days and the jet lag have put us on edge.”

“Sure, that’s why you are on edge,” Derek mutters, only loud enough for the hybrids to pick up.

“Let me properly introduce us,” Namjoon says. “This is Yoongi, Alpha Black Jaguar hybrid and second oldest Alpha of the Bangtan Pack.”

Yoongi bows but does not lower his eyes on the three of you or tilt his head. It was a very Alpha move. His eyes look to you before he stands up with a slight smile. 

“This is Jimin, Alpha Red Panda Hybrid, and the third youngest of the pack.”

Jimin copies the motions of Yoongi, but this time, his eyes never fall from yours.

“My name is Namjoon, Alpha Alaskan Timber Wolf hybrid and Prime Alpha of Bangtan Pack,” he says as he bows a full 90 degrees. “We thank you for allowing us in your Packhouse. We will treat it with respect and honor.”

“It’s you!” Evie declares—shocking everyone in the room. 

“Evie,” you call her and reach for her arm, only to have her shake you off as she steps forward.

“You are the one who got Y/n into the contract,” then snaps her attention to Yoongi, “You are the one that tried to stop her from falling and injuring her.”

Yoongi holds back from growling at this disrespect from the Omega because he knows it will only upset you. Jimin steps out of the line of fire from the feisty little Omega while Namjoon is frozen in place, and Evie has settled her sights on him again.

You step forward to put yourself between the Prime Alpha and your pack Omega, only to find yourself stopped by the damn black furry leash around your waist, which has been joined by a fluffy tail around your forearm.

Looking at Derek, he just shakes his head. Rolling your eyes at him, you glance at Yoongi and Jimin, only to find both of them looking amused.

“I hope you understand the damage your ‘proposition’ has caused. I know all about your great idea and its failed delivery. You not only offended the head of my pack, but you also offended the rest of her pack. She is not some accessory to be bought and paid for, nor is she just entertainment for your Baaaangtan Pack.”

“Y/n has a heart of gold. She is fiercely independent on the surface, but underneath it all, she really needs to be desired, pampered, and treated with respect. So far, from what I have heard, you are all starting out a mile behind the starting line,” Evie continues her rant at the Prime Alpha.

Looking at you, eyes flicking down to the tail wrapped about your waist, “She will tell you more when she is ready and only when she feels that you deserve to know what she can be like with the right people around.”

Looking at Yoongi, “She needs protection and she needs to learn to accept that protection without feeling like she is lacking. She told me of each of your promises to her, and I hope you can achieve them over these next eight weeks.”

Focusing on Jimin, “While not all of you seem to be on the same page as the rest, I hope you take the time to get to know each other and grow.”

“Miss Geneive,” Namjoon speaks up. We intend to be all those things for Y/n—all those things and more if she allows us.”

“Good. Because if she doesn’t get treated as the Queen she is, then you had better be happy you are in a mate-bonded pack of all MALE Alphas because pups will not be possible in your future,” hisses Evie, causing the whole room to gasp and go wide-eyed at the shortest person in the room. 

“Now that that is all settled,” Evie stands up with a bright smile. Do you want to look around our pack house? I made cookies.”

Previous / Next

Taglist - CLOSED

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[warrioreowynofrohan]

Looking at the parts on Númenor in Unfinished Tales (and the LOTR appendix chronology) made me notice something Tolkien does with the history of Númenor that is very thoughtful, very important, and often neglected by other fantasy authors: he distinguishes between fighting on the right side and being the good guys, and he even delves into how those two things can work against each other.

Three times in particular, the Númenoreans help to defend Middle-Earth against Sauron. In Aldarion’s time, in the 800s, Aldarion spends much time establishing and rebuilding a port/haven on the coast of southern Eriador, to guard against invasion of the north through what will later be the Gap of Rohan. In 1700, Tar-Minastir sends a large force to drive back Sauron and rescue Gil-galad and Elrond and their people after the forging of the Rings and the destruction of Eregion. And, of course, near the end of the Second Age Ar-Pharazon sends the vast fleet and army that takes Sauron captive.

And each of these times are associated with successive stages in Númenor’s moral decline.

Aldarion is the first warning sign. His father, Tar-Meneldur, a wise man, discourages his voyaging, accurately fearing that it “sows the seeds of recklessness and the desire of other lands to hold”. Aldarion likewise marks the beginning of Númenoreans regarding nature as something to be valued for its use rather than for itself: trees as timber, not as forests. This is also when the Númenoreans begin to log Eriador - their logging will eventually be so extensive that, whereas virtually the whole area from the coast to the Misty Mountains to the Gap of Rohan was forested at the start of the Second Age, by the time of LOTR only the tiny fragment of the Old Forest remains. It’s not for nothing that the trees there are hostile to Men (and Hobbits). (This may not have been happening in the same way in Aldarion’s time - in Númenor he spends great efforts on replanting trees, nothwithstanding the ecological distinction between ‘tree plantations’ and ‘forests’, and he may have done the same in Middle-earth - but it’s still the starting point.)

And he does work extensively in Middle-earth to build defences against Sauron (or ‘the shadow in the east’; they don’t know it’s Sauron yet) and is described as “the friend and counsellor of Gil-Galad.” Yet the very growth in power, pragmatism, and expansionism that is involved in doing this is the start of Númenor’s downward path.

Next, we have Tar-Minastir, who drives back Sauron from Eregion during the War of the Elves and Sauron, following the forging of the Rings of Power, when Gil-galad, Elrond, and the Elves of Eregion are almost defeated. Unfinished Tales says “he loved the Eldar but envied them” and built a high tower to gaze westwards towards Valinor. And it is in the immediate aftermath of his rule that Númenor enters its phase of exploitative imperialism: his son Tar-Ciryatan is “a mighty king, but greedy of wealth; he built a great fleet of royal ships, amd his servants brought back great store of metal and gems, and oppressed the men of Middle-earth.” The next king, Tar-Atanamir, likewise “exacted heavy tribute from the men of the coasts of Middle-earth”, and was the first to be openly hostile to the Valar and the Eldar. The Silmarillion describes Ciryatan and Atanamir as “proud men, eager for wealth” who “laid the men of Middle-earth under tribute, taking now rather than giving”.

(As an aside: this is a period where I’m particularly curious about what Gil-galad and Elrond were thinking, and the decisions they had to make. The Númenoreans have just recently decisively rescued them, and it may not be going too far to say the Elves of Eregion and Lindon are military dependent on Númenor. And yet the Númenoreans are now mistreating and oppressing the men of Middle-earth. How to balance military/political pragmatism and ethics? Are the Númenoreans friends or not? Should they be trying to do anything to stop Númenorean empire? Can they do anything? Does benefitting from Númenorean military might while not doing anything make them complicit? Do they try to talk to the Númenoreans? And for Elrond in particular, on top of the moral vs pragmatic concerns, there’s the knowledge that it’s his brother’s descendents and successors who are doing this - in a sense, the only family he has left.)

And lastly, of course, we have Ar-Pharazon, who defeats Sauron but without being any better than Sauron, and who is corrupted by him, wreaks devastation on the men of Middle-earth and on his political opponents at home, and leads Númenor to its destruction.

It feels like this reinforces the themes of The Lord of the Rings, that victory over evil is not one by seeking to overpower it, but by renunciation of power. The downfall of Númenor highlights this by contrast by showing the corrupting force of accumulated imperial power, even when used against a foe that is genuinely evil.

[thegnomelord]

If you're up to it, I would like to request FtM reader x dragon Price, reader can be dom or sub I just need more FtM things in life besides myself😞😞 -🐆

Sure, I wasn't in the mood for porn so have some fluff. fair warning I'm not all that confident writing FTM reader so ya'll tell me if this sucks lol

CW: SFW, gender dysphoria, fluff, non sexual nudity, cuddling, scar kissing

Most day are good for you. Most days you're able to get out of bed and go about your day to day duties with confidence.

Not today.

You wake before your alarm with an unpleasant feeling in your gut, tossing and turning for an hour in hopes of falling asleep but it's useless. The morning chill only amplifies the horrid sensation — your skin doesn't feel like your own, your body doesn't feel your own. It's like roaches are crawling beneath your skin, thousands of toothpicks stabbing your nerves every time the cotton of your boxers brushes against your flawed flesh. Old words of people you once considered friends ring in your head like church bells: You're not a real man, you'll never be.

All you are, is a badly made replica in the approximation of what you want to be.

Your bones feel like they're lined with lead, every cell in your body begging you to stay under the covers in the darkness of your room for however long it takes for this feeling to go away. But the sharp ringing of the alarm forces you to rise against your wishes. You don't look at yourself when you shower, but the small glimpse of skin you catch in the mirror makes bile burn the back of your throat. Usually you're proud of your torso and the muscles you've built, but all you can think now as you put on the tight fitting army shirt is how wrong it looks on you. You try to pull on the front a couple of times in an attempt to make it baggier around your chest, before just putting on a jacket regardless that it's the middle of summer.

Recruit duty makes a bad day even worse, adding a headache alongside the discomfort and anxiety that straddle your brain. You hate how snappy and agitated you are with them, running them through grueling drills until they regret being born and have probably called you every name under the sun in their heads. The all collapse when you're finally finished with them, stepping away from them. The day's heat made you sweat like a pig, another round of bile burning the back of your throat at how your clothes stick to you.

You flinch back when a hand grabs your shoulder, quickly whirling around to look who it is with a sharp retort burning on your tongue, only to fizzle out when you're met with Price's face.

Your name sounds so right when he says it, the scent of tobacco curling in your nose as he steps closer to you, wing stretching out to subtly hang over you. "What's going on lad?" Price asks, his voice low, like taking a sip of cool water.

The question makes you hesitate, unable to meet his gaze so you fixate on counting the little chips in the concrete floor. "Just one of those days." You grunt, your voice hoarse and scratchy from belting orders all day.

Price hums in thought and then you feel his wing bump against your back, "Follow me soldier." The deep timber of his voice silences some of the dark thoughts crooning in your ears, and you're helpless to do anything but follow after him like a lost lamb. He leads you back to his room (that you haunt most nights), the place blessedly cool and dark compared to the heat outside.

The second the door closes and locks he pulls you in close, wrapping his steady arms around you and pushing your face into the pillowy bosom of his pecs. You struggle for a moment out of pure instinct, but a single call of your name makes you stop like a puppet on cut strings. He repeats your name like a caress, rolling every syllable on his tongue as his chest rumbles with a deep purr.

You melt into him, nuzzling your nose into the deep valley of his pecs and breathing in his smell. He's more intoxicating than any drug you know; beneath the scents of tobacco, dark coffee, and manly musk there's always something that your mind associates with freshly cut grass and rain on dry gravel — Comfort.

"You're so smart and clever." He croons, resting his chin on top of yours, one hand tracing the curve of your back. "But by god are you a dumb muppet." There's no edge to his words, you don't even think of fighting his admonishments. "How many times have I told you to come to me if you feel like this?"

Too many times, to be honest. You're stubborn if nothing else, you always think you can handle this on your own, you don't want to burden him whenever your mind decides to be a dick to you. "I'm sorry." You mumble into his shirt, your hands slowly wrapping around his thick waist. It always does your head in how your fingers can't quite meet in the middle of his back with how broad he is, muscle and fat shifting beneath your hands.

"Sure you are." He tuts, evidently not believing you for a second. But he doesn't pull away, tail loosely wrapping around your leg and his scent and heat enveloping you, his chest vibrating against your face. "Going to let me take care of my boy, aren't you?" The way he phrases it makes it sound like a statement, and you're unable to resist it.

Your mouth goes dry, your body stuck between wanting more and abhorring any more physical contact. But you nod your head, grumbling something probably nonsensical. And any other day you'd laugh your ass off about the fact you're practically motorboating him, but not today. Today you barely have any energy left to think.

"That's my boy." He purrs, clawed fingers gently scratching your scalp. "Shower?" He asks.

You pause, trying to string together a tangible thought. You doubt you could handle that, not with how dark and heavy your head feels. "No." You croak and nuzzle further into his chest in an attempt to hide.

"S'alright, I'm proud of you." He hums, still holding you close as he shuffles across the room with you blindly following him. "Let's get you out of those sweaty clothes, yeah?" Getting a single nod from you, he starts to slowly take off your clothes, pulling back just enough to distract you with sweet kisses. You try to help in taking his clothes off, but you feel about as useful as a small child helping his parents cook, getting a few chuckles from him.

You wind up gently pushed down on your back, spread across his bed that smells just like him and naked as the day you were born. Before the discomfort can make you shy away and try to cover yourself, he's settling down next to you, claws scraping against your jaw as he pulls you into a slow kiss. You swear you can always taste a bit of eternity every time he kisses you, so unhurried like you'll last as long as him.

"Look at you." He hums as you part, his hands sliding down your shoulders and arms to your hips. "My handsome boy." He tilts his head to kiss all over your face, trailing his lips from your brows to your eyelids, cheeks, nose, chin to wherever else he can reach. His beard is soft against your skin, evidently he'd used that beard care product you'd given him. "So strong and capable. My strong knight."

That gets the first vestige of a chuckle out of you. "Does that mean I get to lay the dragon?" You ask, your lips tugging into a small smirk. You've made that joke god knows how many times, but despite his gripes, Price loves it.

"Cheeky wanker." He huffs, his cool clawed fingers trailing along the curve of your muscles up your torso. "Later, if you're good."

A low sound escapes you when his thumbs brush the even scars beneath your pecs. "Good?" He asks, waiting for you to nod before tilting his head down, horns gently poking your skin for a second before he starts kissing along your scars. His touch is gentle like you're a precious treasure in his hoard, his lips velvet soft against the rough scar tissue. Every brush of his lips makes your skin tingle like a live wire, fire simmering in the place he kisses as he trails from one side to the other, laying equal attention on every inch of your scars.

It's pleasant. Beyond pleasant. It leaves your chest feeling so warm and full like your heart will burst through your ribcage.

You feel like a melted puddle of goo by the time he pulls away to kiss you on the lips again. You don't struggle as he lays down on his side and pulls you to him. A pleased sigh escapes you as you feel his wing drape over you like a blanket, tail curling around one of your legs and arms wrapping around your waist; like he's making sure you can't escape (not that you'd want to.)

Dragons are strange, the scales cool against your skin but his core is hot like a furnace, the duality of it calming your mind. "How are you feeling lad?" He asks, the low timber of his voice vibrating his chest.

You hum and nuzzle into his pecs, the ample chest hair tickling your face. "Better." You grunt, blindly kissing what inch of flesh you can reach. You can't keep your hands from wandering, petting the dark hair of his happy trail as your other hand traces the scales on his side. "Could feel better with a bit more attention though."

A snort leaves him, his breath ghosting over your ear. "You're insatiable." His words would be a lot more insulting if his chest didn't vibrate with a continuous purr, his tail tightening for a second before relaxing.

"You're to blame." You feel better as the words leave you, your chest light as a feather as you get to share a small laugh with him.

"Get some rest, my boy," You hum, your eyelids already starting to feel heavy as you feel him nuzzle his cheek into your hair. You don't doubt the whole base will be able to smell him on you tomorrow. "We'll see about laying dragons later."

"I love you." You murmur into his flesh, his pecs becoming the world's best pillow as you nuzzle closer. You stay awake just long enough to hear him murmur his love for you in your ear.

[theoutlawfaleena]

könig headcanons

general hcs and some for when he has a crush on u <3

• his social anxiety makes it very hard for him to maintain eye contact, but ever since he joined the army, he's been working on it

• as a result, he now makes a lot of eye contact — like, a lot

• every time you look at him all you see is 👁👁 and it's a lil unsettling, but he's blushing under his hood and trying to keep it together

• the adrenaline that comes from fighting is the only thing that alleviates some of his anxiety

• he gets a lil bit feral when he's out on the field and the excitement makes his voice shake over the radio

• he only chills out when he hears you laugh and say "easy, big guy"

• off the field, he has the softest voice ever

• he stays off to the side by himself because he doesn't want to seem like he's actively looking for you (bc what if you think he's weird or something??) but somehow, everywhere you go, he's nearby

• every time he sees you coming over he has to swallow and pretend he hasn't been awkwardly waiting for you

• his hands are rlly shaky

• sometimes you'll grab and hold them and smile up at him and his heart drops to his ass

• he has a lil sketchpad that he doodles in, and he hums while he draws

• every time he thinks of a good joke, he waits for an opportunity to tell you it just to hear you laugh

• he would kiss you if he was brave enough, and knew you liked him back </3

• he likes to call you maus

• you could call him literally anything and his timbers would be shivered

• your voice calms him down so much and he loves to listen to you talk about your interests

• sometimes he chimes in with "we should do that together sometime" / "you should show me how to do that"

• so tall that he knocks his head on doorways a lot

• probably has some bruises that you have to take care of

• he's so warm he's basically a walking heater

• he wears the hood bc he's a bit insecure about the way he looks

• you're the only person he takes it off for <33

[shinmothra13returns]

*molly would hear rumor of a big bad wolf moving through the area but the big surprise she would learn is that every farm he has visited all of the women wind up heavily pregnant with a small army of wolf pups one evening Molly would get a knock on the door as there was a large timber wolf man standing at the front door as he bigger then the door frame* “sorry to disturb you this evening ma’am I’m looking for a place to stay for few weeks I’m willing to work as a farm hand if that all right”

"Sure. You can stay here. There has been some odd rumors about a big bad wolf around the village."

[alistairtheyrin]

the bard of riverbrook farm, pt. i

la belle dame sans merci, frank bernard dicksee

aemond targaryen x lowborn!reader

masterlist | ao3

summary | the people of the riverlands begin to find peace once more as the land recovers from the dance of the dragons. in an unremarkable village, a musician draws the attention of a peculiar stranger

tags | secret identity, soft romance, bard!reader, no use of y/n, hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending, discussions of trauma related to war, gender-neutral pronouns

wordcount | 3k

likes, reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated 💞 please let me know if this is something you'd like to read more of!

Days like this rarely fell on the Riverlands.

Days when the sun shone, the brook that babbled through your village took on a glimmer, and there was an air of ease about. The green of the leaves on the trees seemed richeron a day like this, branches growing heavy with fruit. The cobblers and tool sharpeners who wandered from village to village plying their trade only had to reach their arms overhead to pluck a golden apple to go with their lunch. Sometimes, they’d even pull down a spare apple to pass to a beseeching child, not because the child needed food but because they wanted it.

That was the best thing about days like this, times like this - the children weren’t hungry, not anymore. Only years ago - when you’d been but a child on the cusp of adulthood - these lands had burned. Your people and your fields had been fodder for dragons and great men playing at war. But then the dragons - and the men in armour - vanished. Travelling bards told stories of Good Queen Rhaenyra putting down her brother’s rebellion and striking a triumphant peace with the Dowager Queen Alicent, her late father’s wife. It had taken time for the Riverlands to recover - time when your stomach had felt hollow, and your father would have gladly sold the farm for a crust of mouldy bread - but aid had come when a peace was brokered. Food and seed from the Reach, timber from the North, builders from the Westerlands. It had taken time, but recovery did come, and your baby sister - born in the Year of the Dragon’s Peace - had never known an empty belly like you had.

So your steps were light as you made your way down the stony path from your father’s farm to the village. The evening air was warm and syrupy with the scent of summer blooms, and your lute bumped happily against your back. Up ahead, the village inn - The Fine Fool - was already buzzing with life, as tomorrow was a day of rest for most, and the townsfolk wished to make a merry start. You could hear a constant stream of chatter from the open doors as you approached the inn with its thatched roof and warm, glowing windows. You slipped inside and saw it was crowded already. The farmers and their farmhands had dirt under their nails and flagons in hand, smelling faintly of sweat from a day on the fields. The wives traded news and gossip, some with children underfoot or babes in arms. The innkeeper - a ruddy-cheeked man everyone called Good Beck - was yanking a wheel of presumably stolen cheese out of the hands of a wily boy with a grin on his face. You weaved through the villagers, smiling at all as you went, and a ripple went through the gathered throngs around you.

“The bard!” A man called.

Good Beck looked up at that, “Aft’noon, bard!” He called over the sea of heads to you as you made your way to the little raised stage in the corner. You tilted your head in greeting at him.

“The Bard of Riverbrook Farm!” A woman this time called, and you winced at the name a little. You were no more a bard than a peasant with a pitchfork was a great army general. Just someone born with a halfway decent voice and a mind for melodies, courtesy of your mother. And a lute, of course, courtesy of your father - a gift he’d bought when he’d been courting your mother. You’d picked up the lute when your parents’ evenings had become filled with tending to the baby, and you’d been left in want of something to do. When the villagers complained of the lack of musicians on the Riverroad these days with the terror of war still so close to memory, your father had let slip what a good player you were becoming, playing gentle tunes before the fire in the evening and softening the babe’s worst tempers with a lullaby. Good Beck had been at your door within the sennight, offering fair coin and mead on the house. Honestly, how could you refuse?

It had been a tremendous success so far - Good Beck had music livening his common room, you had extra coin in your pocket to help about the house, and the village was near as cheerful as it had been before, in the halcyon days of your childhood.

You took to your stage, avoiding the gazes of the onlookers as you always did. You always felt nervous when you were cold. You pulled your mother’s loot from your back, took a deep breath to steady yourself and block out the noise, and gently strummed and fiddled with the pegs for a second, finding the lute singing sweetly - just as you’d left it. You hummed as you tuned, feeling your throat warm. Good Beck sent a serving girl over with your first tankard of mead. He was good to you, and the honeyed drink was smooth in your throat.

Once you judged yourself ready, you took in the crowd. Some watched eagerly, and some carried on their conversations. The melody leaping from the strings hushed more voices as you sprang into a lively rendition of The Bear and The Maiden Fair.

Before you were three songs deep, the townspeople were singing along and setting up impromptu dancing sets. The ale was flowing freely tonight, you could tell, and you quickly set out your cap for any coppers the townspeople might throw your way. The sound of music drew in more spectators and revellers, and soon, Good Beck and his serving girl were fighting to keep up with the flow of thirsty patrons at the bar.

During a particularly ribald song, you looked out upon your crowd, and your eye caught on a group of men unfamiliar to you in a darker corner of the room. It was a small village and faces totally unfamiliar were quite unusual, but the berth the villagers were giving the men told you all you needed to know. Their clothing was shabby, their faces sunburnt - they were former army men, the sort who still wandered the Riverlands. Likely Aegon the Usurper’s, but it could be some of Queen Rhaenyra’s Northmen who had no wish to return to their frozen homeland when the fighting was done. Many had sustained injuries to their person, many more to their minds, and had nothing to return to from whence they came. So they wandered, eeking out a living by offering help on the farms or sites of construction whenever needed. It was a hard life, and you felt for them, but the wariness of the townsfolk made sense - such men were known for causing trouble when they had nothing left to lose.

One of them caught your eye, and you looked away in a hurry.

By the time your song was finished, you were huffing and puffing for breath, and the villagers were no better. Dancing sets had turned into barely contained circles of swinging, spinning, and chaos. Everyone was laughing, and the mood was high, but it was also growing desperately warm in here, with many a man or woman wiping sweat from their brow with a yellowed sleeve.

Time to slow it down, you thought, as you watched the patrons join the queue at the bar, desperate to quench their thirst. Good Beck looked flustered behind the bar - pleased but flustered - so it was time to allow him to catch up and rake in the good custom. You sat on your stool for a moment and took a long draw from your tankard of mead. Now was as good a time as any to try something new you’d been working on, one of your first original songs. If it went over well with the townsfolk, that was great, but if not, at least you weren’t killing the good mood but giving them a well-earned chance to recover before they spun into more dancing.

You cleared your throat and drew a breath, striking a chord that rang clear above the chatter.

The river runs red, my dear, can you see it?

High in your tower, the earth is bleeding,

The home burns, the water breaks

Upon the tomb at our love’s wake

Is it too late for us? Your beacon, my fire,

We were just children drunk on sweet desire,

Where did that go? What did we do?

What has become of me and you?

Save your prayers for your Gods, for I want none,

I only want the honeyed words on your tongue,

Fly with me now, stand with me at heaven’s gate,

Only love’s forgiveness can change our fate,

You trailed off in the soft, mournful ballad, for that was as far as you had gotten. There was a small round of appreciative applause around your stage, but most were more concerned about getting their drinks refilled. That didn’t bother you, though. You’d played it aloud now to someone who could offer more feedback than a squalling babe - as sweet as your sister was. It was time for you to take a quick break, and your mind buzzed with the possibilities of what you could add and change as you squeezed through the crowd to go and get some fresh air.

The sun had set outside and the sky was that soft purple it was before it was truly night. You stepped away from the throngs outside the inn and found yourself a quiet patch of wall to lean against and catch your breath. Your breathing slowed, and your heart settled as you took in the inky sky, the lighted windows in the village, the distant trickle of flowing water. On your leg, you tapped out the metre of your ballad and sang softly to yourself, thinking of the next words and the stories that had inspired them.

“I’d never heard that one before,” the accent was unusual for these parts - crisp - and it took you a second to realise the voice was speaking to you.

You looked up and felt your stomach lurch. One of the army men was approaching you in the quiet patch outside the inn you had chosen. His head was shaved to the scalp - probably lice - and his left eye was covered by a battered leather patch. He wore a sword on his belt - not unusual in these parts, but not exactly welcoming either. You didn’t want any trouble, and you certainly didn’t want any unwelcome attention.

“It’s mine,” you explained. It answered the question but didn’t invite more conversation.

“That explains it,” the man said. Your ears hadn’t been deceiving you - his accent was smooth, his tongue precise on the sounds. He wasn’t from here. He wasn’t from anywhere you had ever seen. “You have a talent for playing and for writing, then.”

His features betrayed no emotion, and you wondered if he was as insincere as he sounded or if you were just being paranoid. “You’re too kind,” you said in the absence of a better response.

“What inspired your work?”

The flinty look in his remaining eye was putting you on edge. “Stories,” you said, “from… real bards who have passed through. Their tales are a good inspiration. Otherwise, all my songs would be about harvests and plough horses. Not much going on around here, not much to keep a curious mind occupied.”

“You don’t have books?” He asked.

You scoffed like he’d just asked if you could fly. “What use are books if you were never taught how to read?” You asked. Who was this man, with his refined tongue, thinking that farmers have use for books?

He had the decency to look embarrassed at least, and the softening of his gaze, the flicker of his eye, and the way his cheeks darkened made you feel calmer. He wasn’t angry. Most men would be angry at being talked back to like that - your father had often warned you about it. Not because you tested his patience - he was a good man, a kind one. He just prayed his firstborn’s quick tongue wouldn’t cause more problems than it fixed. 

“That was foolish, I beg your pardon,” the man said, and you were so confused by his humility that you nodded your acquiescence without a second thought. He drew closer and leaned his shoulder into the wall by you. “My earlier question stands, however. What inspired your song?”

You raised an eyebrow. “A tale from a bard - the tale of the Dragon’s Peace,” you said. You swung your lute down by your side to trace your fingers over the strings, like a focal point for the frenetic energy you felt as the man asked his probing questions. “The tale is all over the realm - how Queen Rhaenyra and Queen Alicent came together to stop the war and the shedding of innocent blood. Words saved the day when swords could not - I guess I liked that.”

He raised an eyebrow. There was something deeply morose about him. His features betrayed no warmth - in fact, he was so still it was like he was cold-blooded. “It’s just that you… you sounded like you were singing of something more than just a peace accord.”

Obviously, you thought dryly, but you were still wary enough of this man not to provoke him outright. “A peace like that does not just happen. The two Queens were friends in childhood. I just thought… they could have been more. What if they were - still are - more? It must be a… special friendship to forgive what they have had to forgive each other of.”

His brow creased as his frown deepened. “Is such an unconventional… friendship not a dangerous thing to sing of? To even imply?”

You felt a heat rise in your cheeks. What a fool reason not to speak of it, to hide behind euphemisms and platitudes, you thought. “The only dangerous thing is forbidding certain loves for the form they come in. Love is the one thing, the only thing that ever saves us from ourselves.”

He hummed thoughtfully at that. It struck you as just another thing that was strange about him. Anyone else might have laughed, made fun or cursed you for an ungodly wretch. But he seemed to be thinking of your words with a deep seriousness. “Is it finished?” He asked. You must have looked confused because he clarified, “The song, have you finished it?”

You shook your head. “No. I’m trying to find the words, the tune to express the betrayal but also the loyalty. The joy in spite of the suffering. I’ve only just begun writing my own songs in the past few moons - I think I’ll need to practice it.”

“If I am any judge, I think you have made a good start.” His eye looked almost purple in the dusky light, reflecting the soft hues of the sky.

“And who are you?” You asked, bold all of a sudden. “To judge, that is?”

He gave you a smirk like you’d just told him a slightly amusing joke. “Just a man with an interest in that tale.”

“Because you fought in the war?”

He was quiet for a second, and you wondered if it was because he was considering lashing out or fleeing. “Yes,” he said instead. “I did.”

You nodded. “And now you have… nowhere to go?”

“I have… somewhere,” he said, considering. He looked far away, far into his own mind. It was not an uncommon look on the men who had seen war. “It was just never truly home. And now I don’t know how to return or how to be that person again.”

“You can never go home,” you said. It came out blunter than intended, but it was something you had found to be true. “Not really. Figuratively speaking. I… home to me is before. Before the hunger and the bodies and the fear. That home no longer exists for us; you can’t go back.”

“So what do we do then if we cannot go home?” The moon had emerged and cast shadows on his face. He was beautiful, you realised, with a thud in your chest. With his long nose and carved cheeks and strong jaw cast in sharp relief by the flood of moonlight. You wondered what colour his hair was when it was not shorn. Maybe chestnut, like your father’s plough horse. Or golden, like wheat at harvest.

You wished you had an answer to his question, but you didn’t. “I don’t know,” you said truthfully. “I don’t know.”

He looked a little crestfallen but nodded like he hadn’t foreseen any other answer. “Maybe I should just start anew, then. Build a home, sow a field, fall in love.”

You smiled. It was all any of you could hope for - a chance to start again. It was all any of you dreamed of. “There’s many an empty croft and field around here, since the war. And many a girl who wishes for a handsome husband with a good sword arm.”

He smiled back. It wasn’t like the earlier smirks - icy and guarded - it was warm, liquid. It nearly reached his eye. Nearly. “I’ll think about it,” he said.

You took one last look at his face before you turned. It was high time you were back on stage. No sooner had you turned away than a hand caught your wrist. You looked back. Like a thrice-damned fool, you looked back.

“You need to finish the song,” he told you. His gaze was so sure, so serious you felt that he must know everything about you. Like your every waking moment could be felt through the joining of skin, the index finger he was tracing on the inside of your wrist. “If you cannot go home, you must at least finish the song.”

He raised your hand to his lips and kissed it.

Like he was a knight. Like you were noble. Like the words passing between you carried the bond of castles and gold and histories and dragons.

“I will,” you said, and your voice trembled just a little.

“I truly hope it is not too late for them.” He spoke of the Queens in the song. He spoke of himself. He spoke of you.

“I hope so, too.”

[mhsdatgo]

Alicent crowing aegon exposing her children to more risk than just letting rhaenyra became queen. Rhaenyra wanted that throne, there is no way she would have accepted those "terms", and alicent is 100% aware of this in the book and in the show as well. By crowning aegon she start a war and put her children DIRECTLY on the battlefield against people who were more experienced in war like daemon or ride dragon longer like rhaenyra and rhaenys amd consequently may control their dragon better. If you didn't want to consider a crash between two or more dragons, even if they were on a dragon against an army the danger is very high, look at rhaenys the conqueror or aemon the first son of jaehaerys, they were on dragon's back and yet both of them were killed by arrow. Not to mention that both in the book and in the show alicent spend years creating animosity with rhaenyra, If you TRULY believe that someone may hurt your children you do everything you can to maintain at least a civil relationship, and not constantly provoke them and then cry about how your children may be hurt by your stupidity. Because that what alicent has done in the book starting hating rhaenyra, pray viserys to name Aegon as heir and constantly share gossip to damage rhaenyra's image (with a 10 years old girl, meanwhile Alicent was a GROWN woman), and in the show the situation is not different. The truth is that alicent’s action were based on her own ambitious in the book and on her resentment to rhaenyra in the show, but NEVER in the interest of her children. In fact aegon never wanted to be king, he was forced by her and has to endure all the consequences while watching all of his family die

Ladies and gentlemen, here we have someone who quite literally didn't get a single thing about Fire and Blood.

See, anons like these are what makes my blood boil at the writers of HotD for making Rhaenyra appear like a saint which not only made most of the decisions she'll take from this moment onward out of (show) character (as far as character building and development goes) but also fucking boring.

I'm always one to listen to different points of view and interpretations of books as complicated as these, but something that has always bugged me is the way this fandom CANNOT DIGEST the type of tragedy that is just inevitable.

It was never about picking sides, it was never about sexism, it was always about kin torn apart by kin and their own flaws dragging them down. There was no way to ever avoid that and I cannot have a proper discussion about F&B with anyone who doesn't understand this first.

Moreover, just what do you think Alicent should've done? Shut up, be quiet, sit still and look pretty while Daemon's spies turned her children into bloody shreds? Allow them to be assassinated because of the threat they pose to Rhaenyra's claim? Does everything revolve around her? Is she some kind of Twilight Sparkle?

Let me tell you this: no woman would willingly step back and leave their children to their own devices when their own lives pose a threat to someone else's interests.

I have respect for Rhaenyra and her will to fight for what she believed was her birthright (although let's be honest, it was a feeling born out of nothing but the entitlement of a spoiled brat, it turned into a war of parents after one of each faction's children was killed) but I also have so much more respect for Alicent and her courage to bare teeth and claws and plan a coup to be allowed the upper hand and more possibilities of looking after her children if one of them is ruling. It's not "stupidity" it's awareness. And acting according to it.

It's true that Alicent has her own ambitions, but to say that they started growing in her when she was nothing but an 18 year old girl marrying a 30 year old man... Do you hear yourself? That's a girl getting graduated from high school. Oh shiver me timbers, we're scared of young adults here.

Everyone likes and loves and adores to talk about the way ALICENT was having beef with Rhaenyra as a 10 year old but nevermind Rhaenyra placing a bounty on two toddlers and one of them getting ripped apart because of it. Nevermind her refusing that bastard Corlys' advice to take Daeron as a hostage and demanding that he be killed instead. (Because this bitch was the #1 threat to her rule, but y'all aren't ready for that conversation)

She never "prayed" for Aegon to be named as heir, what she DID pray for was for him and Rhaenyra to be betrothed to one another. I hate Rhaegon personally, (no hate to any Rhaegon stan that reads this ♥️) but honestly this is the only marriage that could've MAYBE prevented the Dance. It started because there were two claimants to the throne. Just marry them to each other and the issue was solved. Both of them get crowned, no Dance, peace.

But noooooo, Viserys, the incompetent twat, as always had to act like an incompetent twat and be like "lol but they don't get along". IT WAS HIM WHO DOOMED HIS CHILDREN, EACH AND EVERY ONE OF HIS SONS AND DAUGHTERS. ALL. OF. THEM.

Everyone else acted as a consequence to the cluterfuck that the sick old man created. Namely, chaos. What else did you expect?

[boinkingbattlemechs]

Timber Wolf (Mad Cat)

The Timber Wolf is a fast, heavy OmniMech. A signature design of the Clans' military might, it was arguably the first Clan OmniMech encountered by Inner Sphere forces (as opposed to periphery forces) on The Rock in 3049 by Phelan Kell.

Vaguely resembling a cross between the MAD (Marauder) and CAT (Catapult) series, the Timber Wolf was tagged with the Inner Sphere reporting name Mad Cat on first contact. The targeting computer on Phelan Kell's Wolfhound switched between MAD and CAT when trying to identify it; upon analyzing the data recording from Kell's 'Mech, Precentor Martial Anastasius Focht later officially designated it "Mad Cat".

The Timber Wolf is vastly more powerful than either the 3025-era Marauder or Catapult, and features approximately as much firepower as both of those mechs combined. It uses its speed and firepower to engage an enemy at the range of its choosing. When first encountered by Inner Sphere forces the idea that a heavy 'Mech could move so swiftly while being as heavily armed and armored as the Timber Wolf was inconceivable. With its twelve tons of ferro-fibrous armor and an arsenal that rivaled most assault 'Mechs of the era, it was completely alien to Inner Sphere military planners, commanders, and even the Precentor Martial of ComStar. First introduced in 2945, the Timber Wolf was designed by Clan Wolf as a second generation OmniMech along with the Gargoyle and the Naga to replace the aging Woodsman. While the Gargoyle may have been a very capable, fast assault OmniMech, and the Naga may have been an excellent fire-support OmniMech, Clan Wolf (and indeed every other Clan) instantly realized the value of the Timber Wolf; thus, production rights to the Timber Wolf were jealously (and successfully) defended. Only through trade, gifts and battlefield salvage has the Timber Wolf entered the armies of other Clans. Until the invasion of the Inner Sphere, production of the Timber Wolf has been limited to a single facility on Strana Mechty.

Despite its prominence among the Wolves during the Clan Invasion, Refusal War and Word of Blake Jihad, the Timber Wolf became increasingly rare following the sundering of ties with the Homeworld Clans during the Wars of Reaving and Blakist scouring of Tamar. Being built by hand at W-7 plant on Weingarten as of 3080, with some parts even being individually machined due to missing data, attrition vastly outstripped supply as the Wolves looked toward other designs. When Alaric Ward forged the Wolf Empire, he left the W-7 facilities to Clan Hell's Horses and ordered the Kallon plant on Thermopolis be retooled for Timber Wolf production, restoring its position within the Wolves touman.

The default configuration of the Timber Wolf features a well-blended mix of energy and missile weaponry; primarily extended-range lasers and long range missile racks that give the Timber Wolf considerable firepower at medium and long range. A pair of LRM-20 racks supplemented by two Extended Range Large Lasers make up the bulk of the Timber Wolf's firepower. The Timber Wolf also has an array of lighter, shorter ranged weaponry for use once the 'Mech draws closer to its prey: two ER Medium Lasers and a Medium Pulse Laser. Finally, it has two Machine Guns for point defense against infantry. Even on the modern battlefield the primary configuration of the Timber Wolf is a force to be reckoned with.

[esther-dot]

[I posted a list of SEASON 6 AUS before but these are book verse]

the cold inside our bones 2k @xylodemon (just have to point out that this was posted in 2012)

The Wall is no place for a woman, but Jon looks at Sansa's gaunt cheeks and hollow eyes and knows he will not send her away.

we're a different kind of same 3k by @jonsaslove

"I have seen your sister in my fires, fleeing from this marriage they have made for her. A girl in grey on a dying horse, I have seen it plain as day. It has not happened yet, but it will” Or; Sansa flees the Vale. Jon retakes Winterfell. When they meet again, they are changed.

Varg-hamr/Wolf-skin 1k by @cappymightwrite

hamr: the ‘shell’ or ‘shape’ of a person — the physical body, a state that can alter. hugr: what a person really is — the absolute essence, that which can leave the hamr behind. (Or, Jon in the body of Ghost, coming across a girl in grey fleeing north, along the east side of Long Lake...)

Pearls of Water ficlet by fedonciadale

Someone wakes up in Castle Black.

Saw You In The Snow 1k by @theemberalchemist

Sansa used the last of her strength to crawl to the foot of the tree, placing her head on its roots like she would lay on her mother's lap lifetimes ago. She could die here, perhaps, in the halo and ghost of her mother's warmth. Her mind drifting to gentle hands pressing against her head, tucking her hair back, humming a sweet song Sansa knew all the words to.

tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme 1k by @hoaryoldbitch

Satin averts his eyes and all around her bodies shift and uncomfortable looks are exchanged. Something akin to fear grips her and automatically she reaches out. Ghost is right there beside her. She wraps her arms around him and buries her fingers in his fur, kissing the top of his head. A buzzing of whispers and hisses arises around her, but one man bursts into a loud and booming laugh. He's tall and burly with reddish hair and a rusty beard. "Is this the beast you've all been afraid of? The pretty little lady tamed the ferocious wolf with a touch of her hand," he snorts, before walking toward Sansa in long strides. Brienne tenses up beside her. "I'll take ye to Lord Snow, lass."

In the darkest night, a song so sweet 2k

The Lord Commander stood atop the Wall and watched as the girl in grey came riding north, her army at her back.

old timber to new fires 27k by @setnet

When Alayne Stone hears word of the marriage of Arya Stark to the Bastard of the Dreadfort, it prompts her to leave the dubious safety of the Vale and set out on a dangerous journey north to Sansa Stark's homeland and her last remaining relative. But home is not safe. Winterfell is burned and broken, the Baratheon King and the Northern Lords are fighting to influence the future of the realm, the dead are stirring... and the old gods of the North are not half gods, worshipped in wine and flowers; they require blood.

And From the Ruins 15k by @thewolvescalledmehome

After awaking, Jon Snow's sole focus is trying to get his sister back. Alayne Stone is trying to survive the Vale. After an accident, she's forced to flee.

Stay With Me 5k

As her eyes shut, probably forever, Sansa Stark thought of one last thing: Jon. Then everything went pitch black.

now we're dead roses 22k

From Ghost’s eyes, he saw a lone, grey horse racing south. On the back of the courser mounted a girl. He could hear her breaths come out in little hitches and gasps as she grasped with all her might to the reins. Ghost chased after her, sprinting fast and nimble on his feet. She was a delicate little thing. Like a breeze could throw her off the horse. Her back shook as she stifled her sobs. Ghost followed on the horse’s rear, eyes sharp on the hooded figure. She must have sensed him behind her because she turned around and suddenly-- Jon woke up with an impossible name on his tongue.

a wind with a wolf's head 13k, WIP by @branwendaughterofllyr

The cold numbed everything. From her nose, to her fingers, to the breath in her lungs, the cold froze and stiffened. Sansa shoved her cloak up around her face and tucked her free hand under her arm. The grey cloth billowed and faded into the darkening twilight as the wind tore at her. Somewhere, a wolf howled, but Sansa was not sure if it was in her mind or not. A ghost wolf, she told herself and pressed on.

Art: The Girl in Grey and Jon's Resurrection by @palominojacoby, The Girl in Grey by @jonsawilldanceanon, The Girl in Grey by @thetullystark , The Girl in Grey by @ozzy698 , The Girl in Grey by @cute-poison20102014, Jonsa Reunion by knightmarescape, Forehead Kiss by colleendoodle, Jonsa Hug by CristianaLeone, Forehead Kiss by rosenroot

PRE CANON - WESTERN - REGENCY - FAIRYTALE - LITTLE WOMEN - HOLIDAY - SEASON 6 - ANNE OF GREEN GABLES - FREE CITIES - FAIRYTALE PART II - POLITICAL MARRIAGE - SALTY TEENS

[ross-hollander]

Another brainwave of 'mech design that shouldn't have been allowed off the drawing board: as REVIVAL progressed, the Timber Wolf came into the focus of Spheroid analysis. Here was a 'mech, commanders who faced it and lived said, that was the ultimate generalist: it could do just about anything, and do it well. In some circles conspiracies circulated that the Timber Wolf was a vanguard super-'mech, and the claims that it was produced on any large scale had to be bluffs. A number of "Copy CATs" were produced as Spheroid armies tried to reverse-engineer this stalwart design, such as:

the Stray, whose heat-sink placement meant you had to disassemble the entire thing down to the bare frames to change a single armor plate.

the TW-S, which had a balance system so poor it routinely knocked itself over by firing the missile array.

the Project LUPUS, whose armoring put it into the Assault grade and had a field of view so narrow it could be ambushed from just about anywhere but straight ahead.

the XW-Wolf-1.5, built from mismatched and second-hand salvage parts. Technically it worked fine, for about four minutes before the reactor fell out because it had melted its casing.

[mtg-cards-hourly]

Timber Protector

In his presence, an ordinary grove becomes a bastion to turn spells and break armies.

Artist: Terese Nielsen & Philip Tan TCG Player Link Scryfall Link EDHREC Link

[jedimaesteryoda]

The Green Fork ran swift and deep here, but the Freys had spanned it many centuries past and grown rich off the coin men paid them to cross . . . when they were done they'd thrown up stout timber keeps on either bank, so no one might cross without their leave. -AGOT, Catelyn IX

The Freys have so far proven to be one of the most faithless houses in the series. They use their position as Lords of the Crossing to secure themselves the best offer, always demanding a toll.

It brings to mind the tale of "The Three Billy Goats Gruff," a troll under the bridge, always greedy, was willing to forgo one goat for the next if the next one was bigger, meaning he offered a larger meal. Lord Walder himself is a grumpy and greedy figure like the troll, always hungry for the best deal for himself. With things coming in threes, the Freys join their cause to royal candidates and are quick to throw them aside and turn their cloaks if the next candidate is stronger and brings potentially more rewards.

The Freys first allied with Robb Stark, King in the North. He offered them a marriage and fostering two Freys. They then cast him aside after his broken betrothal, and Lord Walder had been wanting to switch sides after the Battle of the Blackwater. They are now allied with the Lannisters the wealthiest house, with the alliance with House Tyrell, the two strongest kingdoms, making them the strongest players on the field. They made the Freys de facto lords of the riverlands and offered marriages like the Boltons making Walder's grandaughters' the Ladies of the North and Darry and prizes like Riverrun. However, we know like with Robb Stark, the Lannisters' success won't last due to Cersei's mismanagement, the desire for vengeance over their past actions and another player coming onto the field from across the Narrow Sea.

"And what if I do not choose to pay this toll?" "Then you had best retreat back to Moat Cailin, deploy to meet Lord Tywin in battle … or grow wings. I see no other choices."

The fairy tale ends when the third goat arrives, the biggest and strongest of the three. The hungry troll sees him as his best meal, but he misses that his size took away the troll's leverage in threatening him as the goat knew it was capable of challenging the troll and rams him into the river to drown. The last candidate that will make them turn their cloaks and offer an alliance to will of course be Daenerys, the strongest of the three candidates.

Knowing she will need to face King Stannis, they'll demand large rewards from her. Like possibly amongst other things, to be made liege lords of the riverlands or even Riverrun and Winterfell given Walda was supposed to be Lady of the North. I also wouldn't put it past Black Walder to offer Daenerys marriage. Of course, in doing so, they overplay their hand.

They missed as each royal house they made their offer to got stronger that meant they could demand more rewards it also meant their leverage was weaker. They had the most leverage with Robb who absolutely needed them to get from the North to Riverrun and vice versa. Their leverage lessened with the Lannisters as they knew the Freys had nowhere else to go if they pulled the Red Wedding, and did not need the Crossing as much, being able to send men from King's Landing to the North or riverlands via the kingsroad. With Daenerys, she will have learned of their history of treachery, having proven themselves to be untrustworthy allies who had made themselves pariahs and lost much of their military strength in the North and reprisals over the Red Wedding. They will demand much while offering her little, or overcharging for their services. Along with having a large army, she will have dragons, something none of the other candidates ever possessed, that will allow her to fly over the Twins without paying their toll.

Looking at the opportunity costs, she may also find that they made themselves so universally hated, that it would do more for her cause to crush them.

Daenerys's reply to their offers of alliance will likely be met with "Dracarys." The Twins will likely be burned in dragonflame, and the ones who survive the flames will jump into the river to drown.

The Freys always demanded a toll, but failed to see that if they didn't live up to their side of the bargain of providing assistance, there would be a price to pay for their faithlessness and treachery.