amylou
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Every time one of the Task Force 141 dies, you wake up in your cot again, the day before you were shipped off to join them on their hunt for Hassan and eventually Makarov.
You knew exactly how each day would go from here on out until you got to your last ‘checkpoint.’ Your mind was barely able to understand what exactly was happening to you, and why it only happened to you.
In your second iteration, you had assumed it was all some long, bad dream, but it had always felt too real, that was, until you made it back to the bomb again. Soap died every time, sometimes sooner, sometimes after the fact. In some iterations. You would make such a fuss about the mission that they would leave you behind at base, only for you to restart again once Soap died on the mission.
After catching your breath and wiping your forehead free of sweat, you looked down at the number you had tattooed into your arm. After every reset, you would stick and poke a new number into your wrist to keep track of how many times you had been sent back to the past.
‘1337.’
Bookmarked by amylou
18 May 2026
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You're born into a well known, properly bred, wolf shifter family. The lineage can be traced back to the world's richest and most elite families. You were destined to be another valuable Omega. But there was a problem. You never shifted. Never presented. It was thought you were just a late bloomer. But when eighteen came and passed with nothing, you became the family shame.
Your family attempts to hide you away so that the world will forget about you, so they could ship you off to live with other 'unables'. The world of Shifters is cutthroat. If you didn't fit in the pack, you couldn't be part of the pack.
All is going according to your family's plan until the four Alphas of the legendary 141 pack arrive. They were meant to find the appeal of your younger Omega sister. But when they cross the threshold of your family's estate, the only scent they can sense is yours.
For you see, you are no broken Omega.
You're a thought to be extinct prize. An Omega whose change can only be triggered by true Mates. The 141 have been searching for you for years. You may be the key to continuing their lines and strengthening the shifters who have been in decline for decades. And they'll do anything to have you.
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- English
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- 9/?
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Bookmarked by amylou
17 Apr 2026
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The 141 are monsters hiding in plain sight — teeth behind smiles, claws behind gloves, hunger behind discipline.
She’s their medic. Their beta.
The one they circle without meaning to, the one they scent on the air, the one their instincts keep reaching for. Pack instincts are hard to leash.But when their medic starts showing signs of being a latent omega, every bit of control they’ve held onto begins to crack.
New dangers stalk the team.
Old instincts rise to the surface.
And the 141 are running out of time to tell her the truth:If she chooses them, she chooses all of them — every monstrous, hungry, devoted part.
*UPDATES POSTED EVERY TUESDAY*
- Language:
- English
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- 18/?
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Bookmarked by amylou
14 Apr 2026
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When you finally reached him, you hesitated only slightly to step between his legs. You could see his lower lip shaking as he looked up to you - even with him seated, you were only a little taller.
You saw him somehow tense even more- and heard him suck in a breath of your scent. A shiver ran down your spine as he leaned up to you, his defined Adam's apple and bobbed once as he swallowed, his eyes laser focused on your lips.
“Lass,” he said with a deep gravelly tone he rarely had even in the mornings, “please,” his voice broke, “go back to bed.” He begged, even as his hands spread across the back of your thighs, encouraging your approach.
Or: Soap returns from a grueling training mission, in need of your help.
Series
- Part 6 of Taste
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The Golden Prince left you at the altar. Now you belong to his brother.
Simon Riley—the Ghost of the North, the man who has never lost a battle—takes you as his bride to save a dying alliance. Not because he wants you. Because this is what must be done—for the sake of both kingdoms, for the fragile peace neither side can afford to lose.
He looks at you and sees the enemy. Your father’s name is written in northern blood.
And now you stand in his hall, soft and lovely and utterly out of place—a southern bride draped in silk, a political offering in the house of a man who has every reason to hate you. He is certain you are a trap. That your kindness is practiced. That your innocence is only another weapon dressed in white.
But certainty is a fragile thing.
Because Simon watches too closely. Because every silence between you feels sharpened at the edges. Because in a marriage built on old wounds and older ghosts, even the gentlest touch can begin to feel like a threat.
Now you are bound to a man who does not trust you, trapped in a court that does not want you, and learning far too quickly that peace can be just as dangerous as war.
In the North, love is not a gift.
It is something far more ruinous.