YOONGI POV:

I separate myself from the pile of arms and legs- wayward limbs sprawled across mine and try not to relent at the small sad sound that Hobi makes at the loss of his hyung pillow he'd been reclined against.

"Hyung the movie's barely started." He says, eyes glinting in the dim room as he tries to reach out for me, pouting cutely at me.

He knows exactly what he's doing, especially when a smile plays at his lips and his ears twitch, eyes shining with amusement.

"Don't be a brat. Why can't you be a good cub like Tae?" I say, pointing my chin towards the easily settled baby between the three of us, where he'd happily bounded over to fill Hobi's lap and had curled around him, his tail sprawled over his own waist- absent-mindedly petting it, grooming it.

"Because Tae-ah is always a good cub. The best cub. Come to bed when you're done hyung." Hobi relents with an easy grin, letting go of my wrist with a brief rub of his fingers, scenting along the inside of the thin skin before letting go.

I nod.

"Of course." I say, smiling softly before padding quietly out of the room, making my way to the room I've separated off as a small studio, setting up the equipment before sliding on my earphones. Room sealed of sound.

I push the dial up, playing the familiar intro before speaking.

"This is Honey FM and I will be your DJ through the night, Suga." I say beginning my intro.

And the next few hours pass by in a mixture of songs, broken in intermittently with my own comments and some of the listeners' responses and requests.

I move onto the discussion segment of the show, reading over the prompt that the scriptwriter has sent. I'm given artistic freedom to play about with the scheduled topics but my eyes snag onto the top of the list, feeling my lips drag down at it.

Discuss controversy about hybrid rights.

But then my lips thin and tighten. Artistic freedom right?

I'll give them artistic freedom.

So as I interact with the viewers who've called in, I begin to talk quite amicably at first with the ones who are in support of it, discuss worries with some of the younger callers. And some of the largely positive calls are mixed in with the occasional ones who seem woefully clueless and ignorant about something going on daily, but those calls are dealt with calmly and levelly, patience wearing thin at the lack of knowledge some people have. But when I do get quite a vehement passionate caller about how hybrids shouldn't have equal rights, that they're no better than animals let loose.

And that's when I lose it.

Because I won't have a pompous, privileged person call in and try insult hybrids. Act that he's allowed to call in and try and insult any of my listeners, insult me, my family, my own.

So I cut him off, trying to maintain the slightest bare level of professionalism as I warn him that hate and discrimination towards hybrids isn't accepted or tolerated before going to pick apart and pull each part of his argument apart- showing him just how wrong and bigoted he comes across as.

And by the end of it, I can hear my heart hammering loudly in my chest, can feel the tight stiffness to my tail and the way my ears have sharply perked up, trying to detect any malice in his voice. And I glare at the speaker where his voice had come out from, feeling the way my blood seems to be rushing through my body- words having spilled uncontrollably from my lips.

The screen lights up with messages from listeners- overwhelming positive reviews and messages cheering me on, bolstering me and telling me to continue being like this, that this is one of the reasons why they tune into my show.

I smile at one particular message, sweet and kind- with a slightly curious comment left at the end.

Why don't you rap too? You could change the world with your thoughts.

I smile at the screen.

How would they know that some of the tracks played out across the night, that some works are my own. Under a different name.

Some truths remain secrets under the guise of the night. Some like these.

And when the show finishes, I slowly turn off the equipment- making sure everything is in order, switched off and carefully make my way out, door shutting behind me. I pad towards the large bedroom, glancing at the shut doors on either side. The two other bedrooms aren't used much save for belongings, they're rarely slept in.

Not since we'd all accepted the natural ease we'd found with each other and slowly explored day by day the dynamics that had become more settled and fluid.

And when I open the door, I smile at the sight of Tae cuddling Hobi, tail sprawled over their waist as a protective embrace, ears twitching in their sleep as they register the slight sound, too settled and content to be roused out of sleep. I slide into bed on Tae's either side, feeling my instincts settle at cocooning our youngest between us, pressing a small kiss to the nape of his neck.

It's only with the two of them that I find myself falling to sleep quickly, the rhythm of their easy, deep breathing lulling me into a sense of comfort and peace as I find myself eyes fluttering shut, soothed by the way the room is filled with our overlapping scents, a familiar comfortable mixture, a blend of something that is intrinsically and wholly us.

Pack. Family. My mind whispers, tail settling down behind me as I finally let go.

JIN POV:

"Kookie-ah, don't rush about like that in the kitchen." I say without turning from where I'm checking on the food that simmers away on the stove, I can hear him running about regardless and reach out to snap his wrist in my hold as he comes my way, tucking him into my embrace- smiling when he wriggles futilely to escape but gives up giggling.

"Is this the only way to get your attention hyung? By ruffling your feathers and making you turn grey?" he asks teasingly, shooting me a toothy grin when he peers at me, ears perked up and standing upright, cheeks flush and hair damp from his shower.

I shake my head fondly at him.

"If you keep doing that bun then I won't be doing movie night cuddles, and there'll be no grooming too." I say and watch as a cute pout graces his lips, looking petulantly at me, ears drooping sadly at the notion.

And I decide, yet again, that I can't bear to see him upset so immediately rectify my words by cooing at him that of course I'd groom his fluffy ears, and that's enough to have his eyes sparkling and nose crinkling cutely as he moves out of my embrace to get the plates and glasses out for dinner.

And when we've eaten, the dishes are washed and sparkling and dried, set aside, Kookie tugs me back eagerly onto the large couch, pulling it out so it can become a bed, smart foresight for if we end up sleeping there.

He gives me a loose relaxed smile when I grab a towel to properly towel his hair dry. He sighs, arching his head into the touch as I make sure each strand of hair comes back to curl around his face, far drier than it had been when I'd started. And when I'm content, I run my fingers through his hair, gently easing out any tangled or knots that are a guaranteed when it comes to Kookie- he'll always rush the drying process, rubbing at his hair quickly before scampering out of the bathroom, far too eager and energetic to move onto the next thing.

But moments like these I truly treasure. Adore.

Adore seeing the way he's all loose and pliant and settled with gentle petting and grooming and then I begin the same process with his ears, carefully making sure to dry behind them and make sure he doesn't get a cold because he's left them wet again. And laugh when he squirms as my fingers brush through the soft fur and the inner shell of his ear. Aigoo...such a cutie.

I take in the soft flush of his cheeks, the relaxed slightly dazed look in his eyes as he unconsciously shifts closer, all loose limbed and relaxed- not making a fuss when I tug him into my lap, wings instinctively tucking in so they're out of the way.

He rests his head against the crook of my shoulder, mumbling sleepily- lips brushing against my skin.

"Thank you hyungie." He mumbles, a careful hand reaching out to brush against the outside of my wings, fingers brushing tenderly across the well-kept and maintained state of my feathers, a light petting.

"Thank you baby bun, for letting me have this." I murmur, leaning to peck the tip of his nose and feeling my heart swell when it elicits a sleepy smile and a small snuffle, content and all warm and cuddly.

For all that he's energetic and rushing about during the day, he's always sweet and cuddly at night- ready to clamber onto my lap on a moment's notice, sometimes doing it without prompting, doing it when he claims his instincts tell him to cuddle the energy out of his 'Seokjinnie hyungie'. How could I ever resist?

I had trouble back then, and it's never gotten easier. Never gotten easier to resist those sweet large eyes always looking at me sweetly, or the slight bat of his lashes, fluttering delicately against his smooth skin as he peers at me- trying to sweettalk me into doing something.

I turn the TV off, forgoing the movie and content to just carry him off to bed, slipping under the comforter with him and curving around him, feeling the need to cradle him close- an instinctual need to protect even if this is our safe space.

Our home is our safe space and my bedroom is my nest, and to see Kookie so relaxed and calm in my space, in something that I've created with optimum comfort in mind as well as my tastes and needs, soothes, and settles some inherent part of me that preens in happiness and glowing satisfaction at seeing him sleep without a worry.

And that same feeling comes when the day begins and over the sound of the alarm I can hear sleep-laced slightly deep grumbling whines from Kookie who shifts, ears flopping down and trying to shield themselves against the sound, burrowing further into the blankets and closer to me, to steal warmth as I reach out with a blind hand to turn it off.

Because when I turn to face him, peering through slightly sleep-fogged eyes, I see just how soft and young he really still seems, still the same sweetness to him from all those years ago, as well as the new defined lines of maturity with the sharpened angles of his face and body.

I relish the moments of sleepy cuddly bun, all loose and pliant, because when he does wake up he's a storm of motion and action- rushing about the apartment in a rush of constant energy- eyes wide and eager to take in the world around him and nose crinkling happily when he's immersed in his tasks, ears perking up whenever he finds something new and challenging to do.

I adore both sides to my bun. And maybe I'm selfish to want to cuddle just a few moments longer with him, so I reach out to tuck him close, smiling when he presses a sleepy morning kiss to my collar.

The day can wait, the world can wait. But I can't. Not when it comes to him.

JOON POV:

My ears perk up when they detect the slight quiet shuffling sound and I reach to pause the podcast I'd been listening to, sliding the buds out of my ears to turn, and be greeted with the sight of Jiminie sleepily making his way into the living room, clothes rumbled and ears and tail drooped with remnants of drowsiness, rubbing at his eyes.

He looks so soft and gentle like this, the Jiminie I know, not the one the world sees him as- fierce, sharp-tongued, and intelligent; intimidatingly so at times.

"Morning hyung." He says through a yawn, the genetically slightly sharp incisors displayed momentarily.

"Morning Jimin-ah. Coffee or smoothie?" I ask, getting up from the chair.

"Hmm...coffee please. I think I'll be rushing around all day." He says, taking the seat adjacent to mine as he slumps down over the table, that separates the kitchen space from the living room, sleepily smiling when I set down a mug in front of him.

"Thank you." he says after he's taken several sips, blinking away the grogginess before taking in the sight of the table and frowning.

"How long have you been up working?" he asks with a disgruntled pout.

"Not long, I couldn't sleep after I woke up- kept thinking about the case. It seems like the child was about to be sold to a trafficking ring." I confess, grimacing at the connections I'd made on the case files.

No matter how long I've been working in the field, it doesn't fail to disgust and shock me just how low people can stoop. How can someone barter lives? And that of a child? Of someone too young to even have learnt the ways of the world?

I shudder, a deep growl accidentally slipping past my throat- an instinctual response to feeling slightly failed at not being able to help, at the case that'll unfold.

"Hyung you can't stop every evil in the city, but I can tell you what you do makes huge differences." Jiminie says, setting his hand on my shoulder and squeezing reassuringly, voice gentle and soft.

I sigh.

"I know Jiminie but it makes me feel so angry, makes me feel like I'm failing myself." I confess, dropping back into my chair to stare morosely at the papers.

The opening of a new case is always the hardest, to well-verse myself in each detail and know just how much damage has been done or could be done if the perpetrator isn't caught.

It makes my instincts feel unsettled until the case closes.

"You heading to the hybrid centre today then?" I ask, distracting myself out of my own thoughts.

He nods.

"I know I said that a social worker would go to settle the paperwork but I feel that the primary carer needs to be someone that can be well prepared for all sorts of situations. I can fill them in." he says.

"That sounds ideal. The caregiver should know the difficulties too, the kid deserves the best chance at starting again." I say, setting down my empty mug and gathering the papers to keep neatly aside.

"Get ready, let's grab breakfast before heading in." I say after I've washed my mug.

"You've been listening to Suga again?" Jimin asks as I head out of the living room, pausing in the doorway.

"Yeah, he's got really good ideologies. Always makes good arguments too." I say.

"Why don't you just say you like his voice as well hyung?" Jiminie teases, voice taking on a mischievous lilt as he moves closer to me, silently moving across the floor, but his scent grows stronger- a silent indication of his movements.

I turn just as he wraps his arms around my waist.

I smile down at him, feeling my cheeks warm at being called out.

"Well...that too maybe. But it's definitely because of his mind." I insist, fighting the urge to not squirm under the intense yet playful stare, instincts processing it as a mock, pseudo-challenge. A playful nip to his throat does the trick and I dart away feeling smug and happy at the look of content and betrayal on his face- warring clearly.

And whilst he decides whether he wants to enjoy the small touch or whether he wants to protest, I slip into the shower.

----

"Take care Jiminie." I say when he pops his head through to my office to tell me he's heading out.

He nods, stepping in instead and closing the door, moving closer to me to step into my arms. I rub my nose against his throat, absently scenting him in the same place I had scent glands, but he happily receives it, arching his neck and inviting me to nose further. I know his skin carries scent well so with a final nuzzle I lift my head, knowing that when he does leave- he'll be carrying parts of my scent mingling with his own, hopefully allowing him to walk around without trouble.

It was more habit and about satisfying those instincts to leave claims on family, on pack that made me scent him. I knew he could handle himself perfectly well. But it was just a part of me that automatically worried because he was younger than me, because though he was dominant in his own right, he submitted to me too.

"Don't hurt your eyes. And don't have too much coffee. I don't need a hyper alpha hyung rushing around." He says, shooting me a warning glance, intense enough that I fight the urge to nod and let out the low whine deep in my throat in response to his ordering tone.

He beams, face transformed within the next instant, and he rushes out the office with a call of 'bye hyung' said over his shoulder before he leaves, exiting just as quickly as he'd entered.

I smile fondly at the sight of him leaving, his tail swishing low and ears perked up, posture firm and strong.

And when he finally disappears from sight, I sink back into my chair, pulling forward the file I'd been examining earlier.

My hand fiddles with a pen as I scan over the case details and statements given.

It seems like we're dealing with traffickers that are a mixture of humans and hybrids- working alongside to sell young hybrid children to humans who wanted to raise them as pets or slaves- whether that be domestic or sexual.

My hand tightens around the pen reflexively, forming a fist.

Decades have passed since acts and rights have been passed for the protection, equality, and freedom of hybrids and yet still there's cases like these.

There are hybrids who don't care or empathise with their own kind but seize them as business opportunities.

It's cases like these that reinforce negative public opinion that predators prey on the week, that predators are a danger to society.

And yet even whilst I know that's not true, even if I work to dispel those very social concerns- I see the proof of it from time to time.

It makes me feel bad.

Makes me feel slightly guilty when I peer in the mirror myself.

When I see a predator hybrid stare back.

Because I'm not like that, Jiminie isn't. Many people aren't.

As a stronger hybrid, people should use those naturally inclined abilities and benefits to help, not wrought damage to lives like some do.

And with a determined glare, I begin to make several calls, tying up loose ends in some of the case details.

The quicker it's solved, the more at ease my heart will be.

And I don't care how hard I have to work for the rest of my life to prove that I'm different than others. It's one challenge I'll never back down from.

(THERE YOU GO! ANOTHER SET OF POVS FOR YOU! I HOPE YOU'RE ENJOYING SEEING THE DIFFERENT DYNAMICS GROW AND BE REVEALED! I'M SO EXCITED TO TRULY BEGIN THE PLOT BUT I HOPE THIS IS IN NO WAY BORING TO READ...IT'S ALWAYS SO HARD TO START UP A BOOK AND CREATE THE FLOW AND I HOPE WE'LL GET THERE SOON! AS ALWAYS I'M EXCITED AND EAGER TO HEAR ALL YOUR THOUGHTS AND SEE REACTIONS TO THIS FLUFFY CHAPTER. HOPEFULLY, YOU CAN SEE THAT HYRBIDS DON'T HAVE THE BEST LIFE AT TIMES BUT THE BOOK IS SET IN A WORLD WHERE HYBRIDS AND HUMANS HAVE EQUAL RIGHTS- THERE'S OBVIOUSLY THAT SELECTION OF POPULATION THAT'LL ALWAYS OPPOSE GOODNESS AND EQUALITY. STAY SAFE, TAKE CARE AND ENJOY!)

QUESTION...one of your favourite scents in food or drink?

Mine is...I really like the smell of tea, it's really soothing and calming- it just smells amazing. And I love tea so that's a bonus! For food, whilst I have a massive sweet tooth- and love sweet smells, I also love the smell of spicy stuff! Maybe it's just the Asian in me. And maybe I'm hella weird but the smell of caramelising onions is nice too! But it's not a favourite!

Borahae! 💜💜💜

PurpleQueenie <3