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the-bad-batch-baroness · 5 months

Text

Dancing Lights

Wolf!Wolffe x Fem!Reader

Summary: During a mission on a frigid planet, you get lost in a blizzard and Wolffe becomes desperate to find you before you freeze to death. Once he does, he’s forced to reveal a secret part of himself in order to protect you from a territorial pack of wolves.

Pairing: Wolf!Wolffe x Fem!Reader

Characters: Wolffe, Plo Koon

Tags & Warnings: 18+, implied/referenced nudity with no descriptions, established relationship, hurt/comfort, light angst, suggestive themes, implied sexual content, violence, blood, injuries, reader doesn’t know she’s pregnant, protective!wolffe, snowed in, abandoned cabin, cuddling for warmth, Brother Bear/Balto type spiritual references, happy ending

Word Count: 12.7k

Author's Note: The terms "alpha" and "mate" are used in one part of the fic for a very specific purpose as a language marker (there are NO sexual, kink, or ABO implications). There’s also a distinctive speech pattern shift between Wolffe talking to the wolves and Wolffe talking to himself and the reader. This is intentional. The perspective shifts between the reader and Wolffe a lot, but the change is always separated by a paragraph break. As always, please enjoy 💚

@clonexreaderbingo Square: Smile

Wolffe frantically searches for you. One minute you’re walking behind him and the next minute you’re gone. He trudges through the piling snow, calling out your name, barely a whisper over the raging winds and whipping snow, but receives no response for his efforts. The battalion lost long-range communications soon after the blizzard started and you’re not answering on comms, so his only hope is to find you before the drifting snow claims you. He can’t lose you, not now.

Wolffe only dares to backtrack so far to look for you, or he might lose the battalion as its dark gray silhouettes slowly fade into the white tundra. Wolffe stares out into the nothingness and calls your name as loud as his voice will let him. Then he waits, hoping for a shred of your voice to make it back to him, but he hears nothing. Gritting his teeth, he turns on his heels and uses the backs of his men as wayfinders to trudge his way up to the front of the procession.

“General,” Wolffe shouts over the storm.

“Yes, commander?” Plo Koon asks as his snow covered parka blows wildly in the wind.

“We’ve lost one of the… men,” Wolffe says, pausing to consider whether he should name you as the lost soldier. He knows how Jedi feel about attachments, and he’s not in the mood for a lecture. “They appear to be lost in the storm.”

“Have you attempted to make contact?” Plo Koon asks.

“Yes, sir,” Wolffe answers. “Multiple times, sir, with no success.”

Plo Koon raises his hand to his face in thought. “That is a predicament.”

“Sir,” Wolffe begins in a serious tone, “with your permission, I want to go after them.”

“That would be ill-advised, commander,” Plo Koon answers. “The storm is getting worse and we must advance to the rendezvous point before we become buried in it ourselves.”

“But sir,” Wolffe argues. “We can’t afford to lose anymore men. Our numbers are dwindling as it is. We need to find them.”

Plo Koon crosses his arms and waits a moment to respond, reading Wolffe through the force like an open book. “Attachments are dangerous, commander. As lethal as this storm.”

Wolffe grimaces and shifts on his feet like a child getting caught in a lie. “I don’t believe in leaving men behind, sir.”

Plo Koon’s facial features soften and he places a gloved hand on Wolffe’s shoulder. “Neither do I, but you are needed here. Perhaps we can send a scout.”

The general is both right and wrong. Having their commander walk away in the middle of a stressful situation will reduce the battalion’s morale significantly. They have been marching to their next rendezvous point for days, and the blizzard is only making it more difficult. However, there is no way in the stars above that a mere scout will be able to find you in this storm. The scout is more likely to get himself lost. But Wolffe? He can find you, without a shred of doubt.

“With all due respect, sir,” Wolffe argues, clenching his fists together to hold his composure. “I am the most suited for this mission. You know this. I refuse to risk any more of my men dying in this storm and being buried unceremoniously under a pile of snow.”

Plo Koon considers Wolffe’s words and the conviction behind them, then sighs. “Very well.”

“Thank you, sir,” Wolffe says, finally releasing the breath he was holding in.

“However,” Plo Koon continues. “We cannot halt the convoy or render aid if you fail your mission. You will be on your own.”

“I understand,” Wolffe nods before turning to walk away.

“And Wolffe,” Plo Koon adds quickly. “Come back safely. Both of you.”

Wolffe doesn’t answer, but the sentiment shared between the two is unmistakable. He will bring you both back safely, or it’s the last thing he’ll do. Wolffe climbs up into the ATTE he’s been living in for the duration of this campaign and grabs his pack. He grabs everything he might need, including canteens, rations, medical supplies, an emergency blanket, and a spare set of blacks, as well as tossing out anything that he knows he won’t need. Traveling light is a must.

Before making his departure, Wolffe seeks out Sinker and temporarily puts him in charge of the battalion for the duration of his absence. Leaving the battalion in Sinker’s hands is an easy decision for Wolffe to make. The sergeant has been by his side since the beginning of the war, and has shown considerable aptitude and courage under distress. Wolffe knows that he is up for the challenge and has faith in him to lead the men to the rendezvous point mostly unscathed.

With everything in order, Wolffe hops down from the ATTE, his boots sinking deeply into the fresh fallen snow beneath. The wind is ripping and visibility is minimal, but Wolffe steels himself and sets out in the opposite direction of the battalion. After a few yards, he looks back. The gray silhouettes of the men and machines are gone. There’s no turning back now. He faces forward, picking his feet up and over the snow in a painstakingly slow process, but at least he’s moving.

As he trudges through the blizzard, snow begins sticking to his armor and weighing him down. He stops every so often to brush himself off, but it quickly becomes a useless effort. He grumbles to himself that of all the planets you had to get lost on, why did it have to be this one? He’s not angry, but he is scared; scared for you and for the little package you carry inside you unawares. Regardless of how he feels about the situation, he is determined to find you.

After a little while longer, he stops and stands still. The snow swirls around him, covering his visor and the gray markings on his armor. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, calling on the senses lying dormant within him to come to the surface and aid him in his search. No human or comm system can find you in this storm, but maybe he can. Maybe the wolf inside him can. A spirit of a bygone era that speaks to his soul at night and shows him images of dancing lights.

Wolffe removes his helmet, a dangerous move in this type of weather. The temperature alone could kill him with frostbite, but he needs to feel the air around him. The cold nips at the tips of his ears and wind blows through his short hair without caution, leaving little bits of frost at the tips. With his eyes still closed, he breathes deeper, calming every nerve in his body until he can find your presence. If we can’t locate you like this, then he’ll be forced to make a drastic move.

Suddenly, it clicks like a strike of lightning. Whether it’s a feeling, a sense, or an intuition, he knows where he needs to go. He shakes the snow off his head and replaces his helmet, bristling as the cold snow melts down the back of his neck. But, he doesn’t have time to worry about his comfort at the moment. Every second he wastes thinking about himself is another second lost trying to find you. He turns and starts walking, letting his internal compass guide him to you.

As he continues forward, the storm lets up a little. He wonders if the change will be permanent or if it’s just a momentary lull. Again, he doesn’t have time to think about the logistics when you could already be dead and frozen, buried under a pile of snow. He shakes his head at the intrusive thoughts, then notices a ridgeline of trees in the distance. His stomach flips and his breath quickens. He knows you’re in there. You’re smart. Of course, you’d try to find shelter.

Wolffe moves as fast as he can through the piled snow towards the forest of trees. He senses that you are nearby. He stops at the edge of the wooded area and scans to the left and to the right, searching, listening, hoping, and praying that he’s not too late and that he can find you still alive. As he’s standing there, a shiver runs up his spine and he knows he needs to find you soon. If he can find you in this weather, so can they, and he’s not in the mood to deal with that.

He enters the tree line cautiously, then hears a sound in the distance that stills his heart. He doesn’t have much time to find you. Breaking out into his best sprint through the deep snow, he pulls on the trees and branches for leverage, making his movements faster as he frantically searches for you. You're close. He can feel it. He can smell it. His heart is beating out of his chest at the sound. They’re coming, a lot of them, and he doesn’t want to be here when they arrive.

Wolffe releases a heavy sigh of relief when he finally sees you, or rather, he sees your emergency shelter tied to a couple trees. You have the beacon on, but its light is barely visible against the white and gray landscape. The shelter is partially buried by the snow and Wolffe falls to his knees to dig you out. The wet snow seeps through his gloves, and the cold bites at his fingertips, but he doesn’t care. He continues digging until he finds the opening of the shelter.

Once he finds the entrance, he digs a bit deeper to make a little path for him to snake his body down and get into the shelter to get you out. When the path is wide enough for his body, he gets on his stomach and shimmies his way to where the zipper is. He pulls it open just enough to peek inside and no more. That’s when he sees you, curled up into a protective ball, covered in an emergency blanket, with a small heat lamp in the middle of the shelter to keep you warm.

“Cyare,” Wolffe calls gently as he opens the entrance wider and wiggles the upper half of his body into the tent. There’s barely enough room for him to crawl on his hands and knees.

You stir and make a small grunting noise.

Wolffe releases another sigh of relief, then rests his forehead against the cold canvas floor of the shelter. He thanks the stars you're still alive. Sadly, his brief moment of relief is quickly interrupted when he hears the sound in the distance again. They’re getting closer and he’s running out of time. He picks his head up and curses under his breath. He needs to get the both of you out of here now, or there will be trouble, and not the type he can easily deal with.

Wolffe stretches out his hand and tugs on your foot, trying to wake you from your sleep. “Cyare,” he calls a little louder.

You startle awake. The light from the tent-opening blinds you for a moment and the cold air nips at your exposed face. When your eyes finally adjust, you see Wolffe’s familiar bucket staring at you. “Wolffe?”

“It’s me,” he says.

“You found me!” you exclaim with excitement.

Wolffe wiggles the rest of his body into the small tent and pulls you into his arms the best he can, gently pressing you against his armored chest. He removes his bucket and rests his forehead against yours. “I found you.”

The sweet reunion is cut short when Wolffe hears the sound again, but this time, it’s not so distant. He jumps into action, releasing you and putting his bucket back on. “Pack up,” he orders. “We have to go. Now.”

You're shocked by the sudden urgency, but you follow Wolffe’s lead and begin rolling up the blanket. “What’s the hurry? The storm–”

“They’re coming,” Wolffe interrupts while stuffing all of the loose items into your pack.

“Who’s coming?” you ask in confusion. One minute you’re sleeping peacefully in your shelter as you wait out the storm and the next minute Wolffe is rushing you back out into the storm.

“We don’t have time for me to explain!” Wolffe snaps. He feels more afraid than he was before he found you.

You’re slightly offended by his harsh tone, but if you know anything about Wolffe, it’s that he doesn’t mess around, especially when it has to do with someone’s safety. You decide not to push the issue and hasten your pace to get things wrapped up. The good thing about emergency shelters is that they’re quick to assemble and even quicker to tear down. You both finish with the pack and you follow Wolffe outside of the shelter and break that down too.

Before you get in another word edgewise, Wolffe grabs your arm and pulls you along through the snow. His grip is tight and you struggle to keep up, feeling like your arm will rip out of its socket. “Wolffe, stop!” you shout while pulling on his arm with your free hand. “Let go!”

Wolffe ignores your struggle, believing that you’ll forgive him later for his roughness when you’re both safe. He doesn’t have the time to coddle you or explain why you need to run away as fast as you can. Your yelling doesn’t help his cause, but then again, they don’t need to hear you in order to find you. It’s already too late, Wolffe knows this, but he refuses to give up without at least trying to get you to safety. Even if he has to deal with it on his own, he needs you safe.

You continue to struggle against Wolffe’s grasp and fight him with each step as you demand an explanation from him. He doesn’t give you one. He doesn’t even turn around to look at you. He just keeps walking, not letting up on his brisk pace that has you panting in cold air that burns your lungs. Finally, in a last ditch effort, and to give your lungs and legs a break, you let your legs go slack and plop yourself down into the snow, jerking on Wolffe’s arm on the way down.

Wolffe stops and grunts in frustration. “We don’t have time for this!”

“Wolffe!” you yell through a panting breath while trying to get him to listen to you. “I can’t keep up. My legs. My lungs. It hurts.”

Wolffe lets go of your arm and paces in a circle as he thinks. “I need you to get up.”

“I told you, I can’t!” you argue.

Wolffe kneels down on the snow in front of you and removes his bucket. He grabs both of your cheeks and forces you to look into his eyes. “I need you to get up. Now.”

His gloves feel cold on your skin and for a moment you see something flash across his eyes, something desperate that you’ve never seen in him before. But before you get to respond, you hear it. The sound of howling in the distance. You watch as Wolffe tilts his head to the side to peek around you and in an instant, you finally understand. How he heard them before you did, you may never know, but that sound is what Wolffe has been afraid of, the sound of wolves.

You find new strength in your fear and get to your feet, ready to start running again, but Wolffe doesn’t move with you. You turn to see him still kneeling in the snow, staring out through the trees at nothing. Your confusion turns into worry which then turns into a deeper fear. You step behind him and place your hand on his shoulder for reassurance. He places his hand atop yours and stands to his feet. He knows something you don’t, but you're too afraid to ask him what it is.

“It’s too late,” he says in a hushed tone.

“Too late?” you ask as your voice quivers. “Too late for what?”

Wolffe turns around and pulls you tight against him, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in the crook of your neck. His cold plastoid armor digs into your clothing. He can hear the fear in your voice and it breaks his heart. This is exactly what he was afraid of, what he didn’t want to happen. The scenario he’s played over and over in his mind since he started out on this mission, the one he so desperately wanted to avoid at all costs, is now inescapable.

Wolffe drags his lips up to your ear and whispers. “Do you trust me?”

You shiver as his hot breath ghosts against the cold shell of your ear. “Always,” you answer.

Wolffe pulls away and plants two firm hands on both of your shoulders. “I need you to listen to me and do everything I say. Understand?”

You look into his eyes and nod your head. “I understand.”

“Don’t move,” Wolffe orders. He shakes your shoulders, like he’s trying to ingrain it in your body. “Don’t move a single inch, no matter what happens.”

You're confused by the instructions, but you trust that Wolffe knows what he’s doing, so you go along with it. “I won’t move. I promise.”

Wolffe nods his head and gives you a small half-smile. “Good girl.”

You watch him carefully, studying his body language, the way he worries his lip and shifts his weight from leg to leg. You can’t help but notice the growing anxiety, so you bring your hand up to cup the side of his face to reassure him. You smooth your hand over his reddened cheek, your fabric glove catching on the rough bristles of the stubble growing in. Wolffe places his hand over yours and leans into the caress, then pulls it away from his face to kiss your palm.

“You know I love you, right?” Wolffe whispers against your hand.

You smile. “I know.”

Wolffe relishes in the simple and soft moment he’s allowed to have with you. He’s not sure what will happen, but he knows that at least in this moment, he has you. He found you, which is what he set out to do. Mission accomplished. But, the promise he made to the general before he left the battalion reverberates in his mind. He swore he would bring you both back safely, and that’s what he still intends to do, no matter the cost.

An eerie silence washes over the area. Every sound of nature is muted by the snow and what’s left in its wake is a hollow peace. However, that silence is pierced by howls and soft steps in the snow. Wolffe closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, then turns to face the oncoming enemy. He keeps one hand on you for reassurance, and the other in front of him for his own defense, not that it will do him any good. His blasters won’t help him here either, not against a full pack.

The wolves come into view and surround you and Wolffe in a circle. Their fur coats are light gray and white, perfect camouflage for this place they call home. If it weren’t for their golden eyes and black noses, you wouldn’t even be able to see them. Your breath hitches in your throat at their menacing presence. The wolves are large. Larger than you ever imagined from the books you’ve read, with the tips of their ears easily coming up to your hips. You swallow back your fear.

The pack circles around you and Wolffe, then comes to a stop. Wolffe holds his ground as he waits for their next move, but he doesn’t have to wait long. A large, older looking pure white wolf steps out from the circle. The alpha of the pack, Wolffe assumes. He knows what he needs to do, but even in the face of all of these wolves, he’s reluctant. Without an explanation, he’s not sure how you will react to what he’s about to do, but at this point he doesn’t have a choice.

To your surprise, Wolffe starts shucking off his armor, tossing it about haphazardly until he’s only left in his black bodysuit. You watch him with bewilderment, trying to understand why he’d take his armor off during a situation like this. He’ll freeze to death with so little coverage and be vulnerable to attack. You remember his words about not moving, but you want to reach out and touch him. He must be able to read your thoughts because he turns his head to look at you.

“Remember what I said?” Wolffe asks.

“No moving,” you answer. “But Wolffe–”

Wolffe puts a finger to your lips. “Trust me.”

You nod your head and kiss his finger, earning you a sly grin.

Wolffe turns to face the white wolf and you can’t believe what you’re seeing. Bright yellow lights emanate from Wolffe’s fingertips, his toes, his eyes, and his mouth. Wind blows by your head and swirls around him, obscuring everything but his silhouette. You watch as his body morphs into a smaller form and your breath is stolen in awe. He doesn’t make a sound, even as his body contorts into unfamiliar angles. The wind and light disappear and what’s left behind is a wolf.

“Wolffe?” you ask hesitantly, body shaking from what you just witnessed.

Wolffe cranes his neck around and looks back at you with a single, piercing, golden eye, the other eye is still cybernetic and the scar over it has morphed to fit his new facial figure.

“You’re a… wolf,” you stutter in shock.

You’re stunned. When Wolffe asked you to trust him, you weren’t expecting this. You stare at his new form, a man’s body traded in for dark gray fur across his face and ears that travels down his back, a lighter cream color across his belly and legs, and a black stripe down the middle of his back that stretches to the tip of his fluffy tail. He’s a wolf, there’s no mistake about it. You can’t help but admire his beauty, and also feel a level of terror at the teeth hidden in his mouth.

Quite the show, the Alpha says.

Wolffe turns his head back to look at the Alpha. Not great. Rusty.

The Alpha considers Wolffe for a moment, unsure of what to make of him. Your wolf-speak is less than to be desired.

Wolffe snorts. Been a time.

The Alpha is not impressed with Wolffe and circles around you both, sizing up the situation.

As the Alpha moves around you, you notice that it’s much larger than Wolffe, but it also seems much older. You’re not sure why, but that’s the impression you get. You can see multiple scars across his body, each one a proud win against another wolf, you suppose, just as the clones have scars from their battles. To you, everything is quiet. You can’t hear them communicating, but you watch their body language and hear their growls, which still doesn’t mean much to you.

Wolffe plants his paws firmly into the snow, ears pinned, and snarls. Back!

Easy, pup, the Alpha says as he makes a full circle back to where he started. I’m only observing.

Not pup, Wolffe growls.

No? the Alpha questions. Then what are you?

Alpha, Wolffe answers. Own pack.

The Alpha looks at Wolffe with intrigue. Oh? I would have never guessed. You’re rather small for an alpha.

Wolffe barks at the insult, baring his fangs in an intimidating display.

It works, well, at least on you it does. You flinch at the sudden loud noise.

The Alpha disregards it and looks past Wolffe to you. What is that? A hunting trophy?

Wolffe’s fur bristles at the insinuation and rumbles out a low protective growl. Mate.

Odd choice… the Alpha says as he continues to stare at you with mild interest. He decides to ignore you for the time being. Tell me, alpha, what are the laws that govern?

Wolffe cringes at the question. He knows the answer, it’s written somewhere in the DNA that entangles with his own, but his wolf-speak is poor and he can’t put the words together.

Has your tongue gone still? the Alpha goads. Trespassing in another pack’s territory is an offense punishable by death.

Wolffe retakes his defensive stance and bares his fangs.

The Alpha pauses for a moment before responding. However, I am feeling generous today, young alpha.

Wolffe’s ears twitch.

You have two choices, the Alpha offers. Join our pack at a lower rank and we’ll let your mate go free or give us your mate as tribute and you may go free. The choice is yours.

Wolffe snorts at the two bleak choices and decides to make his own third option. He raises his head and howls loudly towards the sky.

The sound is deafening and you cover your ears to try and muffle it. You’re not sure what they’re doing now, but the tension and uncertainty is making your skin crawl. The golden eyes that stare at you from around the forest make you feel small and afraid. You wish to be able to speak to Wolffe, to get any shred of reassurance that everything will be okay, but he hasn’t said a word to you. Your best guess is that he can’t talk to you, which is the only thing that makes sense right now.

Wolffe finishes his howl and waits for the response.

You want to fight? the Alpha asks. A bold move for one so young and stupid.

Not dumb, Wolffe replies. Protect mine.

The Alpha snorts, then stares into Wolffe’s eyes as he searches his soul. You have the spirit of ages within you, young alpha. My old eyes can still see. The Alpha pauses. I will respect your wishes. If you win, you and your mate will earn safe passage through our land, but if I win, you will join our pack and your mate will perish.

Wolffe takes a deep breath. He has too much to lose not to stay focused. Seal it. Sing the song.

The Alpha lifts his muzzle towards the sky and howls. Wolffe then joins in the howling, letting their wolf-songs mingle and intertwine in the sky like a binding contract.

Promise, Wolffe says. Mate not hurt.

You have my word, the Alpha says. Your mate will not be touched during our fight.

Wolffe nods and takes a fighting stance. The Alpha does the same.

You watch the two wolves with great anticipation as your legs tremble beneath you. You’re still unsure about what’s going on, but whatever it is, you trust Wolffe. At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself. That’s what he told you to do and that’s what you have to hold on to. You must have faith and believe that Wolffe will work things out and you can both go home soon. But waiting in silence, without knowing, is slowly killing your nerves. You want to run and escape.

Your thoughts are abruptly interrupted when Wolffe and the Alpha lunge towards each other, fangs bared. A gasp escapes your throat and you have to tell your trembling legs not to move, just like Wolffe told you. The two wolves collide, both going for each other’s necks. You watch in horror as tufts of gray and white fur are flung about into the air. The sounds of growling and snarling fill your ears as they tumble in the snow, one on top of the other and then vice versa.

The Alpha pins Wolffe to the ground and clamps his jaw around Wolffe’s shoulder, causing him to cry out in pain.

“Wolffe!” you yell and take an automatic step towards him, forgetting Wolffe’s order not to move.

A wolf on the sidelines catches your movement and lunges towards you. You scream and fall back onto the ground. Your cry alerts Wolffe and he snaps his head up. With strength unknown to him he kicks the Alpha off of him and leaves his fight to get to your side. He snarls at the wolf and nips at his legs, causing it to retreat back to the circle. Wolffe whips around and looks into your frightened eyes. He brings his nose to your face and gives your cheek a small, gentle lick.

As sweet as the gesture may seem to Wolffe, you wish you could feel anything other than fear. There’s blood on Wolffe’s muzzle and blood on his fur, reminding you of what he is doing.

Wolffe turns his attention back to the Alpha and barks. Liar!

The immature actions of a young pup, the Alpha says. I assure you, he will be punished severely. The Alpha glares toward the younger wolf in his ranks and bares his fangs with a low growl. The younger wolf cowers back with his ears flattened and his tail between his legs. Shall we continue?

Wolffe agrees and the fight recommences as they both tumble through the snow once again. Nipping and biting at each other’s necks, legs, bellies, and backs. Wolffe gets in a few bites, but the Alpha is much bigger and stronger, yielding better results with his bites, which leaves Wolffe’s beautiful gray fur coat marred with blood. He pauses to catch his breath and looks back at you, his strength and reason to fight. Mustering what he can, Wolffe forces himself to continue.

The yelp Wolffe makes when the Alpha sinks his fangs into his neck is unbearable. All you can do is watch and pray to the Maker that Wolffe survives this. You don’t know what started the fight, you don’t know the rules, and you don’t know what will happen to you if Wolffe dies. You shake your head at the macabre thought and focus on Wolffe surviving. You wish you could help him. You wish you could do more than watch as he lies helpless and whimpering in the snow.

Wolffe is out of breath and running out of strength. For a wolf so young, his stamina isn’t at peak performance, but for someone who rarely uses his wolf form, it’s better than he thought it would be. He lays in the snow, chest heaving as he tries to breathe. The bites sting him like fire and slow him down. He’s not sure how much longer he’ll be able to last. He knew he didn’t stand a chance against a seasoned alpha. He may be the leader of the ‘Wolfpack’, but he’s no alpha.

You want to cry. You don’t know how long the fight has been going on, but you’re getting sick of it. You know you’re not supposed to move, but you can still speak. They can’t stop you from cheering him on. Whether he understands your words or not is a gamble you’re willing to take, because you can’t lose him like this. “Wolffe!” you yell. “Wolffe, get up!”

Through his pained haze, Wolffe can hear your voice calling out to him. The sweet sound of his mesh’la, warped by the fear caught in the back of your throat. He knows you’re trying to be strong for him and he finds it endearing. The need to protect you and to protect his unborn child, overrides his pain. He shifts his legs in the snow, trying to get back up, using your voice as a crutch to stand. He rocks himself onto his stomach and hoists himself up onto his shaky legs.

Will protect, Wolffe chokes out between pants as blood drips from his muzzle. Won’t lose. My mate. My pup.

The Alpha watches Wolffe carefully. His own white coat has been stained by blood. Some of it is his but most of it is from Wolffe. He finds the young alpha compelling. His protectiveness over his mate is rivaled by that of many an alpha and he admires him for his strong will. The Alpha can sense it strongly now, the spirit that resides in Wolffe. An ancient spirit from many generations before him. The one that chases the moon at night and howls with his brethren in chorus song.

The Alpha approaches Wolffe and bows. I concede to you, young alpha.

Wolffe heaves in a labored breath, his shaking legs about to buckle underneath him. He’s not sure if this is a trick, but according to the laws that govern, this means he wins.

The Alpha steps closer and Wolffe takes a cautious step back.

Your spirit, the Alpha begins to explain, it’s strong and powerful; ancient as the dancing lights that adorn the heavens. Don’t lose it.

Wolffe stares into the golden eyes of the Alpha and sees his truth. He bows to the Alpha, turns, and limps his way over to you.

You and your mate will have safe passage through our land, the Alpha exclaims to Wolffe and his own pack.

Wolffe turns back to look at the Alpha. Thank you.

And with that, the pack of wolves disappear into the trees as silently as they came. You stare with wide-eyes, then drop to the ground, your legs refusing to bear the load of your body any longer. You don’t know if you should cry, scream, or laugh. Regardless, you and Wolffe are safe, at least you hope you're safe. You startle for a moment when you feel Wolffe’s nose touch you. You look into his tired eyes, trying to read them as best as you can, but you understand nothing.

“Can you turn back?” you ask. “To a human?”

Too weak, he answers, but his voice won’t reach your ears.

You sigh when you get no response. With no way to communicate with Wolffe, you’re not sure what to do. You don’t know where you are and with no comms to contact the battalion, you’re on your own. You stretch out your hand to pet Wolffe’s head, but you recoil it when you get too close, scared he might not be who you think he is. Wolffe sees your hesitation and lifts his head into the palm of your hand, nuzzling it for comfort. You smile and scratch behind his ears.

Overcome with the emotion you are holding in, you throw your arms around Wolffe’s neck and bury your face in his soft fur. “You saved us. Thank you.”

Wolffe wants to melt into your embrace, but a snowflake landing on his nose reminds him of the other situation. Wolffe pulls out of your arms and starts pushing at his armor with his nose, piling it together. You tilt your head at his actions, but when you see the snow start to fall again, you get the idea. You stack Wolffe’s armor neatly and wrap a cord around it so you can tie it to your pack. Wolffe grabs his bag between his teeth and you grab yours, slinging it onto your back.

Wolffe starts limping forward and you walk closely behind him, following his lead through the forest. If anyone can get you home, it’s Wolffe. You soon reach the end of the forest and stare out into the wide advance of nothingness. The snow falls harder and the wind begins to howl. You shiver as the cold air breaches your layers of clothing. Wolffe turns around and stands behind you. He noses at his bucket tied to your pack and you wonder what he wants.

You put your pack down and carefully remove his bucket from the neatly tied package of armor, then hand it to Wolffe, unsure of what he could possibly want with it in that form. It’s not as if it will fit on his head.

If Wolffe could roll his eyes, he would, but instead he pushes his nose against the bucket so it goes back towards you.

You sigh and shake your head, still unsure of what he wants you to do with it.

Put it on! Wolffe growls as he drops his pack from his mouth.

His sudden outburst startles you. “I don’t know what you want me to do!” you snap at him.

Wolffe tries to calm himself. The language barrier is grating on him, so he takes the bucket in his mouth and places his front paws on your knees to gain some height, then haphazardly drops the bucket on top of your head. It sits crooked and looks funny from Wolffe’s vantage point, but it should get the point across.

“Oh,” you realize. “You want me to wear it.”

Wolffe nuzzles his nose against your hand as an affirmation.

You situate his bucket on your head, but it’s too big on you and bobbles around. You think you look ridiculous, but if this is what Wolffe wants then this is what you’re going to do. It’s probably to keep your face from freezing off in the cold, but it could have other uses as well and you just don’t know it.

“How do you see out of this thing?” you ask as you try to walk forward, but the HUD throws you off balance.

Wolffe can’t smile or laugh, but he snorts through his nostrils at your comment. He sees just fine out of it, but then again, it is made for him.

You watch Wolffe’s reaction to your comment and wonder. “Can you understand me?” you ask.

Wolffe nuzzles his nose against your hand again to answer your question.

“We can work with that,” you think out loud. “We need some way to communicate... How about for yes or no questions, touch your nose to my hand for yes and growl for no?”

Wolffe touches his nose to your hand in agreement.

“Well, that was easy,” you breathe.

Actually, none of this is easy. You're several klicks away from your battalion, out in the middle of a snowstorm with a small amount of supplies, and an injured Wolffe who seems to be stuck in a wolf’s body. At least, that’s what you gather from the fact that he is still a wolf and not a human. You don’t have any way to confirm that theory, but you can’t imagine that he would choose to stay a wolf if he had a choice. The words you speak in your mind surprise yourself and you sigh.

Wolffe can smell the storm coming and he nudges your back to push you forward, causing you to stumble.

“Hey!” you turn around and exclaim. “Just because you’re a wolf doesn’t mean you can’t have manners!”

Wolffe snorts, picks his pack back up, and limps past you.

You huff, then hoist your pack onto your back and follow after him.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been walking, but your legs are tired and your body is freezing. The blizzard began to rage not long after you left the forest, and you're both out in the thick of it without much protection. The wind whips around you and threatens to knock you over as it bites your skin through your clothing. Wolffe was smart with making you wear the helmet. There’s no way you would’ve been able to see without it and your ears would have fallen off already.

You have one hand holding the strap of your bag and the other holding onto Wolffe’s tail as he guides you forward through the storm. You don’t know where he’s leading you, but you trust him that it’s towards shelter. Well, that’s what you're hoping for anyway. He, at least, has fur and is made for this type of weather, but, you don’t have a fur coat to keep you warm and your two heavy legs sink further into the deep snow while his four lighter legs sit closer to the surface.

It doesn’t take much longer for you to start staggering, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Wolffe when his tail gets yanked. It hurts, but it’s better than losing you in the storm, so he bears it without complaint. It’s when you let go of his tail that he gets worried. He turns around and looks back to see you laying still in the snow. Panic washes over him and he limps back over to you. He knows that if you stay like this, you’ll get buried in the snow and he can’t let that happen.

Wolffe drops his pack and digs with his paws to get your head out of the snow. He pushes you with his nose to try and get you back up, but you don’t budge. He knows you’re still alive, he can hear your heartbeat, but you still won’t move. He digs around each side of your body as the snow continues to bury your limbs. He grabs onto your outer jacket with his teeth and pulls, but with the weight of the snow you're too heavy for him. He steps back to reassess the situation.

Wolffe paces beside you as he tries to think, then howls in frustration towards the gray sky. Get up, cyare, Wolffe pleads. Please, get up.

He noses at your face, but gets no reaction.

We’re so close, Wolffe says, trying to encourage you to keep moving, like you did for him during the fight, but his voice falls on deaf ears. You have to get up! That’s an order!

He still gets no response. Not even a stir from you.

Don’t make me do this, cyare, Wolffe growls.

He only has one option left and it makes him sick to his stomach. It’s the last thing he wants to do, and he hopes you will forgive him when this is all over, but he’ll do anything to keep you safe. To keep you both safe. He digs out your left arm that has been re-buried by the heavy falling snow and bites down hard.

You jerk at the searing pain in your arm.

The adrenaline in your body starts pumping and you're quickly awoken. You figure you must have fallen asleep since you’re laying in the snow. You look up through the HUD with half-lidded eyes and see Wolffe crouching in front of you, your arm in his mouth. He’s biting you. He’s eating you. You stare at your arm as blood begins to soak through your coat sleeve. You’re scared. Not of the storm, but of Wolffe. He has your arm in his mouth and you're afraid he’ll rip it off.

“Get off me!” you yell hoarsely, scrambling to get up out of the snow and away from him. “I’m not your dinner!”

Wolffe drops your arm before you hurt yourself. I’m sorry.

You stare at him and then your bloody arm in shock and disbelief. “You bit me!”

Regret washes over him at your reaction. I’m so sorry.

“Why?” you ask. You feel heartbroken and confused as to why Wolffe would bite you. Why he would intentionally hurt you. You don’t understand. All of those sweet promises he’s whispered in your ear during moments of passion slip away on the raging winds of the blizzard. He told you he’d never hurt you, but he did. He hurt you and you’re bleeding. “Why would you do that?”

Wolffe drops his tail between his legs and lays himself flat against the snow to seem less intimidating. He wishes he could explain, but he can’t. He never meant for you to misconstrued his intentions so far as to think he would attack you on purpose, or eat you. It’s the worst-case scenario, but he’d rather have you alive and hate him than have you dead and love him. You both need to keep moving, but he lets you settle down before making any more movements.

You lie in the snow as you let the adrenaline run its course. The snow starts to pile around you and in a moment of clarity, you understand why he bit you. If he didn’t wake you, then you would have been buried in the snow and froze to death. It doesn’t make the wound hurt any less, and you’ll never forget what it looked like to have your arm bleeding in his mouth, but you can push past your anger for the moment and move on. You can talk about it later when you’re both safe.

You make an attempt to push yourself up and out of the snow, but struggle. Wolffe gets up and places his muzzle under your other arm, trying to help lift you so you can stand. You get the picture and use him to pull yourself out of the snow. Once you’re up, you lean against Wolffe to help regain your balance before trekking on. Moving is a chore for both of you now. Between his wounds and limp and your frozen and tired body, it’s a miracle you’ve even gotten this far.

When you’re ready to get moving, you grab onto Wolffe’s tail. He picks up his pack, and once again guides you through the blizzard to shelter. It’s not much further before you see a dark shadow appear through the blinding snow. As you get closer, you see the outline of a cabin and breathe a sigh of relief. You knew Wolffe would find shelter, and you’re so thankful that he’s with you. If it weren’t for him, you’d still be back in the woods, waiting to be devoured by wolves.

You approach the cabin and Wolffe scratches at the wooden door, whining for you to open it. You pull the latch and Wolffe drops his pack and runs in before you to be sure it’s safe. The last thing you need is more danger or obnoxious critters. The cabin is dark and cold, but solid, and not too drafty. It will do just fine to wait out the rest of the blizzard. Wolffe circles back from his perimeter search and presses his nose into your hand to let you know it’s safe for you to enter.

With Wolffe’s nose-touch of approval, you pull the door shut against the merciless winds and latch it closed. You drop your pack down, pull out some glow sticks, and the small heat lamp you had in your tent. You crack the glow sticks and place them around the outer areas of the cabin to get some much needed light, then place the small heater in the middle of the room. It won’t throw enough heat for the entire cabin, but it will take the chill out of your bones for the time being.

Wolffe can see without the glow sticks, but he knows you can’t. As you settle in, he does a more thorough reconnaissance and assessment of your situation. There’s a fireplace, some chopped wood, an old table, some broken cabinets with no food in them, and a worn out rug in the middle of the floor. It’s not much, but it’s enough. More than enough, actually. Wolffe turns when he hears you strike a match to light the fireplace. The small fire casts a warm orange glow in the room.

Finally able to relax, you take Wolffe’s bucket off and place it on the table alongside his armor. You pull your coat and gloves off, and blow into your hands to warm them up. It will take a little for the fire to heat the entire cabin. You look over at Wolffe and see the blood dripping from his shoulder. You’re not sure how he’s still standing, but you need to get that wound taken care of before it becomes infected. You grab the medpack from your pack and walk over to the fire.

“Come here,” you call as you sit crisscross on the rug and pat the area next to you.

Wolffe, absolutely exhausted, slowly limps over and lies down on the carpet beside you. He places his muzzle on your left leg and you run a hand across his head. He closes his eyes. You gently move your hand down to touch the area where his shoulder is bleeding and he whines. You frown, then grab the bacta and start applying it. Wolffe kicks out his hind leg at the pain, but he stays still for you. Finally, you wrap the wound in bandages, then take care of the other bites.

Once you’re done with Wolffe’s wounds, you move onto your own. You pull the sleeve up on your left arm, and wince as the movement opens the scabs that are stuck to the fabric.

Wolffe picks his head up off your leg when he hears your pain. He looks for the source and sees the puncture marks of his teeth on your arm. His stomach drops. He gave you that wound. It’s his fault that you’re bleeding and he wishes he could fix it. If only he had the strength to change back, he could bandage your wound, instead of forcing you to do it yourself. In an effort to help, he leans forward and licks at your wound, but you recoil and reflexively whack his nose.

“Ow!” you exclaim. “That hurts!”

Wolffe whines and lowers his head to rest on the rug between his front legs. He didn’t mean to hurt you even more. He just wanted to help. I’m sorry, cyare.

You look at how sad he is and sigh. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I know you didn’t mean it.”

Wolffe remains still, but lifts his eyes to look up at you.

You meet his gaze and offer him a sad smile. You can never stay mad at Wolffe for long, even if he did bite you. Usually you like it when he bites you, but not when his teeth are as sharp as a vibro-blade. Besides, there’s no use in staying angry at him, not when he’s already saved your life three times in one day. You pat his head and give him a small scratch behind his ear, which seems to perk him up a little. “Good boy.”

Getting back to the task at hand, you apply the bacta to your wound and wrap it in a bandage. It’s not the best job you’ve ever done, but you did it with one hand, so you feel somewhat proud of yourself. Now that the wounds have been taken care of, you move onto food and water. You get up from the floor and rifle through Wolffe’s pack. You grab the canteens and rations from it, since you used your supply back in the forest, and sit back down next to Wolffe.

You reach out to hand one of the canteens to Wolffe, then stop when you remember he can’t drink out of it like a person. You sigh, stand back up, and walk over to the kitchen area past the old wooden table. There’s no food in the cabinets, but there has to be a bowl you can use, and it doesn’t take long for you to find one. You wipe it out with your shirt and bring it back to where you were sitting, then place it in front of Wolffe’s nose and pour the canteen of water into it.

Wolffe continues to lie on the floor, but picks his head up to lap at the water in the bowl. He didn’t realize how thirsty he was until the first droplets hit his tongue and he eagerly drinks the rest of the bowl, being careful not to spill any of the precious resource. When you try to refill the bowl with more water, Wolffe stops you. He doesn’t need it as much as you do, and if push comes to shove, it’s easier for him to go find water in his wolf form, than it is for you as a human.

Once you’ve had your fill of water, you open up the ration pack and toss one of the bars to Wolffe. He catches it mid-flight in his mouth and eats the entire bar in one bite. You’re a little surprised, but you’re not sure what you were expecting, considering the size of his mouth and what wolves actually eat for sustenance. You chuckle. “Well, those aren’t going to last long.”

When you try to give Wolffe another ration bar, he does the same thing he did with the canteen of water and declines it. He intentionally doesn’t catch it, and the second bar comically bounces off of his head and onto the ground. Wolffe gently picks the ration bar up in his mouth and drops it in your lap for you to eat. He can survive on the one ration bar for a while. It’s more important to him that you get your proper nutrients to help keep you and the little one healthy and safe.

You pick up the ration bar and cringe in disgust that it has some of his wolf-saliva on it. But, then again, it can’t be the worst bodily fluid of Wolffe’s you’ve ever put in your mouth, so you eat it without complaint and try not to think about it too much.

After you finish the ration bar, you and Wolffe sit in silence for a while and just listen to the crackling fire in front of you and the howling blizzard outside. It’s peaceful, in a sort of sense, and almost comforting. You look over at Wolffe and wonder if he’s fallen asleep. He has his front paws crossed with his head resting on top of them and his eyes are closed. You look back over at the fire and yawn, thinking it’s best for you to get some sleep as well. You’re exhausted.

You get up off the floor, walk over to the table, grab the blanket from your pack, and sit back down next to Wolffe. You look over at him and his eyes are open and staring at you. You shake your head at his alertness. Not much gets past him. You stretch your arms out over your head, then lay the blanket on your body. You rest your head on the hard floor, which quickly becomes uncomfortable, and you know you’ll wake up with a crick in your neck if you try to sleep like this.

You sit up and look at Wolffe, who is still watching you. “Can I…” you fidget with the edge of the blanket. “Can I lay on you?”

Wolffe picks his head up and beats his tail against the wooden floor.

You giggle at his response. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Wolffe changes his position and lies out flat on his side with his legs outstretched towards the fire. He doesn’t care what position he sleeps in, because his fur works as a buffer against even the hardest of surfaces. He’ll gladly be your pillow and he’s happy to oblige you. You're still his cyare, even when he’s in his wolf form. The wolf form changes nothing about how he feels about you or his devotion and duty to protect you. He may be in a wolf’s body, but his heart is his own.

You situate yourself between Wolffe’s legs and lay your head on his side, being careful not to disturb any of the bandages. His body is warm and his fur is soft. You can feel him breathing steadily as his chest rises and falls, and the sound of his heartbeat is so similar to his human form that when you close your eyes, you can imagine it’s him you’re laying against. You nuzzle your cheek against Wolffe’s soft fur and let yourself drift off to sleep, safe by his side.

When you wake up, you feel a slight chill and notice the fire has died down. You need to get up to put more logs on it to stay warm, but you don’t want to move. You lazily rub your face against Wolffe, but it doesn’t feel right. There’s no fur. You pick your head up and look at Wolffe, but he’s no longer a wolf, he’s human. He’s also completely naked. Realizing that he’s going to freeze to death being exposed like that, you lay your blanket on top of him and get up to rekindle the fire.

You're glad he’s back to normal. You weren’t sure how long he was going to be a wolf, or if he was ever going to change back into the man you know, but you feel relieved now. You carefully lift the blanket to check the bandages, and you can see his injuries better now without the fur, and they look good. Nothing is infected, but the bandage on his shoulder needs to be changed. You run your fingers through his hair, then warm yourself by the fire and wait for him to wake up.

It’s not much longer before Wolffe begins to stir and shift uncomfortably on the hard wooden floor. You smile as you hear the familiar grunt he makes when he wakes up from a good night’s sleep and you bask in the sound of the deep voice you love so much. You turn from the fire to look at him, and you see him try to push himself up from the floor and onto all fours. You scoot across the rug and gently push him back down before he reopens the wound on his shoulder.

“Cyare,” Wolffe says, his voice rough with sleep. He tries to touch his nose to you, but he misses by several inches, not realizing that he’s back to his human form.

“It’s me,” you giggle.

“You can understand me?” Wolffe asks in confusion.

“You’re you again,” you explain as you grab his hand and touch it to his face. “See? No fur.”

Wolffe grunts like he has a hangover and places a hand against his throbbing head. “Must have changed back in my sleep.”

“Yeah, about that…” you say, trying to segue into the obvious.

Wolffe slowly sits up, the blanket falling down around his waist. “It’s a long story.”

“We’ve got time,” you counter while sitting down next to him. “The blizzard hasn’t let up.”

Wolffe sighs. He knew this conversation was coming and he thought of several ways to explain it to you without it sounding like some bizarre folktale, but he’d rather not. “You won’t believe me.”

“Try me,” you say with folded arms.

A shiver runs up Wolffe’s spine and he realizes he’s naked. “Can I have my blacks first?”

“Oh, yes, of course,” you say before getting up and grabbing the spare set of blacks Wolffe put in his pack, then returning to hand them to him. “Sorry about that.”

Wolffe chuckles and grabs his blacks from your hands. “Nothing to be sorry about.”

Wolffe quickly puts his blacks on and melts into the comfort of the tight bodysuit against his bare skin. He sits back down next to you and immediately pulls you into his lap, your back against his chest, and wraps his arms around your stomach while burrowing his face in your neck. He peppers your neck with soft kisses, making you smile. His kisses become longer, more focused, and he trails them from your neck down to your shoulder as his hands creep under your shirt.

“Wolffe,” you say knowingly.

“Hm?” he mumbles into your neck.

“You’re stalling,” you say as you remove his hands from under your shirt.

Wolffe grunts at your perceptiveness. He really thought he could make you forget by working you up, but he was dead wrong. You want to know, and he knows you well enough that you won’t let it go until you have an answer. With a heavy sigh, he stops his attack of kisses and shuffles you around in his lap so you’re facing him. “Are you sure you want to know?”

“Yes,” you answer. “Tell me everything.”

Wolffe sighs and begins his recount of the events.

“It was near the beginning of the war. My first campaign after losing my battalion and my eye. I was at my lowest point back then.”

Your shoulders slump and eyes soften at his words.

“During the campaign I got separated from the battalion, on a world similar to this one, and I found myself cold and alone on the side of a snowy mountain, staring up at the night sky and waiting to die. Thought I was going to.”

You lean your head on his shoulder as you continue to listen.

“Then I saw these green and blue lights appear out of nowhere and dance across the black sky, right over my head. They were beautiful. As I stared up at the lights, I saw this white figure jumping down from them like it was a staircase or something. As it got closer, it kinda looked like a wolf, but it was see-through and wispy-like. I’d never seen something like that before.”

You chuckle at Wolffe’s descriptions.

“You find it funny, but I thought I was dying and seeing things. So, the wispy-wolf-looking thing came over to me, and I mean it stood right next to me, and started talking to me. It said I had a ‘strong heart’ and a ‘wise mind’, or something like that, and then it asked me if I wanted to live. I actually thought about saying no, but I ended up saying yes for whatever reason.”

You grab onto Wolffe tightly, and he rubs your back to soothe you.

“Then it spoke again and said it was an ancient wolf-spirit that travels across the night sky, waiting for someone worthy who can tether it back to the ground, or something like that. It didn’t make much sense to me, but I agreed. It was better than dying on that mountainside. Then that thing walked right inside of me and I nearly pissed myself.”

You snort.

“That was my first transformation into an actual wolf. Once I was in the wolf form, I could smell and see and sense all kinds of things. That’s how I found my way back to the battalion. The general was the only one who knew it was me, through the force I guess, and we never told anyone. It took a little to figure out how to transform back, but the wolf-spirit’s been inside me ever since.”

“You can’t get rid of it?” you ask. “Just out of curiosity.”

“Not that I know of,” Wolffe shrugs. “It’ll probably leave me when I die, and go back up into the dancing lights.”

“I guess that makes sense,” you say.

Wolffe tilts his head to the side. “It does?”

“Well, yeah,” you answer.

“So, you believe me?” Wolffe asks.

“Of course,” you say with a small laugh. “There’s no reason not to. Besides, there’s lots of things in this galaxy that we don’t know about, and wolf spirits now aren’t one of them.”

Wolffe gives you a crooked smile and places his forehead against yours. “I don’t deserve you.”

You lean into the embrace and sigh, but your happy moment is interrupted by your growling stomach.

“Hungry?” Wolffe asks.

“A little,” you answer while getting off his lap.

You walk over to the table and pull out the last package of rations from Wolffe’s pack. You open the package and put one of the bars in your mouth, then throw the other one to Wolffe. He catches it, but he doesn’t eat it.

“You can have mine,” Wolffe says.

You cross your arms. “You need to eat.”

“I can wait,” he says.

“You're injured,” you argue. “You need energy to recover.”

“I have reserves,” he retorts.

“Wolffe,” you huff. “I’m not arguing with you. Eat the bar.”

“I said, no,” he says sternly.

“Fine,” you say as you put your coat on. “Then I’ll go find you something to eat.”

Wolffe gets up from the floor and grabs your arm. “You’re not going anywhere.”

You give Wolffe an incredulous look, then yank your arm back. “What is your problem all of a sudden?”

“I’ll go out and find us some food,” he says.

“You’re injured!” you exclaim. “If you transform back into a wolf, you’re going to break open your wound!”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” he says.

“Well, I’m not,” you huff and start walking towards the cabin door.

Wolffe stands in front of it with his arms crossed. “You’re staying in this cabin and that’s an order.”

“Wolffe, I swear to the Maker, you can’t just pull rank on me whenever it suits you!” you exclaim.

“Too bad,” he says.

You fume and try to push past him. “Get out of my way!”

Wolffe groans. “Stop fighting me!”

“Stop telling me what to do!” you yell.

Wolffe grabs your shoulders and shakes you. “What do I have to do, huh?” he asks. “Tie you up?”

“Maybe,” you sneer.

“Why can’t you just listen to me?!” he exclaims.

“Because,” you begin, “you’re not making the best decision for the two of us!”

Wolffe’s patience snaps. “Only because I’m trying to make the best decision for the three of us!”

You pause, taken aback by his choice of words. “Three?”

Wolffe sighs and leans his head back against the door, kicking himself for saying the one thing he didn’t want to say.

“Wolffe,” you ask slowly. “What do you mean by three?”

Wolffe wipes his hand across his face and looks at your confused expression. “You’re pregnant.”

You gasp in shock. “What– How– When– How do you know that?”

Wolffe rubs the back of his neck. “It started out as more than a hunch, but when I transformed into a wolf, I knew for sure because I could hear its heartbeat.”

You place a hand on your stomach and stagger backwards, looking for a place to sit as you try to process this life-changing information.

Wolffe catches you and guides you to one of the chairs by the table. He kneels down in front of you and takes your hands in his. “I wasn’t going to say anything until you figured it out on your own. I’m sorry. It would’ve been difficult to explain.”

You stare at Wolffe, still in disbelief. “I’m pregnant?”

Wolffe nods his head. “Yeah.”

“I’m pregnant,” you say as you continue to stare at Wolffe.

Wolffe isn’t sure what to do, so he just stays still and waits for you to make the next move.

Suddenly, the lightbulb turns on in your head. “That’s why you gave me your rations and why you didn’t want me to leave.”

Wolffe lets his shoulders relax as you finally understand. “Exactly,” he sighs. “I was worried about the baby.”

You start to laugh and Wolffe raises his eyebrow in confusion. You throw your arms around Wolffe’s neck and squish yourself against him tightly. He pulls you from the chair to sit in his lap and holds you there for as long as you will let him. He rubs your back with his hands and soothes you with soft kisses along your neck.

“Will you let me take care of you now?” he whispers.

“Yeah,” you mumble.

Wolffe gives you one last big squeeze, then hoists you up to carry you over to the rug near the fire. He places you down gently on the rug and wraps you up in the blanket, then gives you a small kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Promise?” you ask.

“Promise,” he answers.

Wolffe removes his blacks, since it’s the only pair he has and he doesn’t want to ruin them, then hands them to you. “Here, they should smell like me now.”

You smile, take them from him, and breathe in his calming scent.

Wolffe leaves the cabin, making sure the door latches securely behind him, then transforms into a wolf so he can find some food. His shoulder wound still hurts, but he can walk on it without much of a limp now, which is fine for him. Even if it was broken, he would still go out and find you food. The urge to protect and provide is so much stronger now that he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that you’re carrying his child. He would do anything to keep you both safe.

Now that you’ve settled down and have time to think, you feel bad for being angry and argumentative with Wolffe. Everything he’s done for you since he first found you in the forest has been to protect you and the baby you didn’t even know about. You can’t even begin to imagine how difficult it has been for him to keep that secret for so many weeks. You’re body hasn’t changed, so it never even occurred to you that you could be pregnant, but he knew.

You wait diligently in front of the fire for Wolffe to return, wishing you had a data-pad to distract yourself with, or even a deck of cards, or anything. Waiting in the quiet is making you fidget out of boredom, and if you’re not careful, you’ll fidget your fingernails right off your fingers. You need something busy yourself with, so you scan around the cabin to try and find inspiration. Then you realize that whatever food Wolffe brings back with him is going to need to be cooked. Bingo.

You throw Wolffe’s top blacks over your head, so you don’t have to carry the blanket around, and you walk over to the kitchen portion of the room. You go through all of the broken cabinets and drawers until you find something to cook in. You have a fire, but throwing some dead carcass on an open flame makes your stomach churn. Eventually, you find a large pan hidden away in a corner. It’s a little dusty, but it’ll do. You clean it off, then set it near the fire to preheat.

Satisfied with your preparations, you sit back down onto the rug and continue to wait for Wolffe. Your wait isn’t much longer before Wolffe returns from his hunt, but then again, without a chronometer, you can’t tell how long he’s actually been gone. The latch on the cabin door opens, then closes abruptly, and you smile while stoking the fire. You hear him take a few steps into the cabin as the floor creaks beneath his weight, but the steps are followed by a loud thud.

You whip around to see Wolffe lying on the ground, his fresh kill next to him. You rush over to check and make sure he’s still breathing, and he is. Thank the Maker. His body is cold from exposure, which makes sense, but you notice his breathing is labored and he’s sweating. You put your hand to his forehead and it’s hot. He has a fever. You curse under your breath, and check under the bandage on his shoulder. It’s red around the edges, just what you were afraid of.

“Wolffe,” you say. “I need you to get up for me.”

Wolffe groans.

“Come on,” you say while putting his arm around your shoulder. “You’re too heavy for me. I need you to help me.”

Wolffe musters what he can and you do your best to drag him over to the rug by the fire. His body is cold, and you need to warm him up so he has a chance to fight the infection. You lay him down on the rug and work to get his blacks on. It’s a struggle, and you wish he would’ve stayed in his wolf form since it came with its own fur coat, but you guess it’s better if he can talk to you. You cover him with the blanket, then focus on cleaning and redressing his shoulder.

Once you get Wolffe situated, you turn your attention to the dead creature at the door. You're not completely sure how to turn it into dinner, so you just throw it into the pan next to the fire and hope for the best. It’s better than starving, but you wish you could make it into soup to help Wolffe. You think for a moment, then get an idea. You grab snow from outside and use it to fill the pan. Then take the electrolyte package from the medpack and dump it in the pan too.

You look at your concoction brewing by the fire and narrow your eyes. “That’s going to taste awful.”

“Mesh’la,” Wolffe calls in between pants.

You turn your attention away from the pan and back to Wolffe, then scoot over to him. “I’m here.”

“Sorry,” he breathes.

You smile and wipe his forehead with your sleeve. “Don’t be. You took good care of me, of us. Now it’s my turn.”

Wolffe doesn’t respond, but you know he would if he could. What’s important now is that he gets rest.

After a little while, you check on the weird soup you’re trying to make and see that the creature is thoroughly cooked, at least, you think it’s thoroughly cooked. You taste some of the ‘broth’ and you’re not impressed, but at least it has salt and nutrients in it. You scoop up the broth into one of the bowls you found and bring it over to Wolffe. You situate yourself behind him so he can sit up against you and you can help him drink it. He fights you on it, but you eventually win.

Once you’re both fed, you throw more logs on the fire and settle in on the rug next to Wolffe. He’s shivering from his fever, so you snuggle up to him to try and keep both of you warm. It’s not ideal for you, but you know Wolffe would try to give you the blanket and his blacks if he knew you were cold, and you can’t let him do that, not when he’s sick. With Wolffe heating your back and the fire heating your front, you let your mind slow down and drift off to sleep.

The next two rotations, you guess, are similar. Wolffe’s fever continues as he fights the shoulder infection and the blizzard still rages on outside. You wonder if it’ll ever stop. The only good thing about the cold is that you can leave the leftovers outside and defrost them by the fire when you need them. Lucky for you, Wolffe brought back a decent sized creature that you’ve been able to ration out. But, the food reserves are dwindling, and neither of you will survive on nothing.

Finally, on the third rotation, you think, Wolffe’s fever breaks and his infection looks much better. He continually apologizes to you for getting sick, but he knew that if he didn’t bring back food, and he fell ill, you both would have been in trouble. You, of course, tell him not to worry about it and that you’re glad he came back safely. He saved your life, again, and you couldn’t be more grateful. Actually, he saved both you and your baby’s life, which makes you love him even more.

Not long afterwards, you both notice a silence. It’s still dark outside, but there’s a certain sound missing. The sound of the howling winds. You walk over to the cabin door, with Wolffe right behind you, and you open it to see nothing but a white ground and a black sky. The storm is over. You smile and lean back against Wolffe’s chest in relief. Now you can leave and head towards the rendezvous point to meet up with the battalion. It won’t be difficult with Wolffe leading the way.

As you stare out into the darkness, hot puffs of breath mingling into the cold night air, the sky lights up with green and blue colored streaks. Your mouth gapes and your eyes widen at the magical sight. It’s just like Wolffe described, dancing lights in the night sky. Wolffe wraps an arm around you and pulls you close against him and smiles. He’s happy you get to see them too. Then he hears the spirit within him howl towards the dancing lights above and he feels complete.

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ackerifle · 4 months

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Okay but what about those AU’s with Levi being a Marleyan Warrior? I’m curious what your take on that kind of yan Levi would be like. Especially if like maybe he has a s/o who was kinda like in a situation like Annie (being used by a parental figure for status but like unlike Annie she wasn’t good enough to become a Warrior so maybe marrying her off to one would be the next best thing?)

homecoming!

yan. honorary marleyan levi ackerman x fem warrior candidate. reader

+ CW. — au: canon reversal & arranged marriage, abuse of power & authority, coercion, darling lowk has an inferiority complex, implied: past parental abuse, extortion, statutory rape & non-con; i apologize this req has been completed so late, but i do love this concept; not proof-read.

it was rare for the intermittent zone to be busy, and even rarer for its streets to be overcrowded with civilians. the bustling sound of lively cheers, applause, and other such joyous ovations could be heard throughout the city of otherwise gloomy vacant side streets and industrial buildings. men and women gathered in large for the occasion, with their hands reaching towards the heavenly sky, and their hats and coats being tossed into the air. some children could be seen sitting on the back of their father’s neck to gain a better view, and some children could be seen holding onto their mother’s hands as they pointed towards the center of attention, innocently claiming how they wanted to ‘grow up to be like them!’ one day.

the open horse-drawn carriage eased its way down the road, in no particular hurry, as the citizens of the liberio intermittent zone celebrated in the soldier’s stead. there were four of them sitting on the carriage, four honorary marleyan’s who waved cordially and offered charming smiles to their grand audience. each of them; erwin, hange, mike, and levi, were undeniably brilliant, talented and exceptional— even during their grueling training years, gifted even. their graduation was well-deserved, and perhaps they were owed even more for their sheer importance to such a crucial advancement for the populace of marley’s eldian’s. they were great, but none of them were you.

you had made the cut for warrior candidate, but not for honorary marleyan. it was devastating, really, but not as devastating as it was for your parents. even if you had truly given it your all, it wasn’t good enough, much to their dismay and disappointment. when the first official advertisement from the marleyan government had been released, entailing a recruitment that would reward honorary marleyan citizenship (at the cost of eldian youths being indentured into the military), your parents were quick to enlist you.

hard work was nearly never paid off, the more you pushed, the more they expected; and you could only ever recall them feeling an ounce of satisfaction when you had informed them you had become a warrior candidate. training was not solely done under the marleyan government’s surveillance, your parents had played quite an involved role in your betterment. and honestly, the feeling of being hit by one of them was much worse than any marleyan commandant could ever hope to achieve.

“hey— hello, hey!” the familiar voice struck you out of your bitterly reminiscent trance, eyes set on the sight before you. the carriage had come down far enough to fill the space in the street in front of your section. even though you stood behind quite a few people, lined up like a sardine as you were shoulder to shoulder with those around you, hange still managed to spot you. you wonder if they were looking for you, “hi~!”

their voice was obnoxiously loud as they drew out the high-pitched greeting. the brunet grabbed a hold of erwin’s shoulder, who sat to the right of them, and aggressively shook him to the point you feared his brain may have hit contact with his skull, and he would fall unconscious. when he steadied himself, they pointed in your direction, and the commotion caused the other two honorary marleyan’s to look your way as well. raising their hands, both out of respect and peer pressure from their enthusiastic peer, they offer polite waves. and upon doing so, the people standing around you clamored with much more ferocity than beforehand, followed by more tumultuous hollers, even waving back to them, but you knew they were all waving at you.

hesitantly and undecidedly, you lift a shy hand to wave back, ultimately determining it would be rude to ignore them, especially after hange had gone out of their way to scout you out. an enviously curt smile creeps it’s way onto your lips, eyes first landing on erwin, the apple of the marleyan government’s eye, and moving onto hange who was still energetically waving their hands, then to mike who acknowledged you with a faint salute, and lastly to levi. he sat at the left end of the carriage, closest to the road where you stood. he made no effort to wave to you, to smile like the other honorary marleyan’s — even if they were evidently fake — but he simply stared. you felt small under his scrutinizing gaze, that is until you observed that he wasn’t making eye contact with you at all. it was your hand, or rather, the ring that sat prettily on it.

and in an instant, you covered your fingers with your other hand, grabbing the ringed hand and lowering it with a resentful leer. the corners of levi’s lips pulled into the start of a grin, but he had enough self control to not showcase such a foolish smile to such an enormous crowd. tersely turning your heel, dropping your head with a raging combination of shame, embarrassment, and jealousy, you stormed through the mass of liberio’s residents.

“don’t take it to heart surname, it’s nothing personal.” as the ship awaited the honorary marleyan’s arrival down to the docks, you found yourself in conversation with commander shadis. there is a part of you that hates him for not promoting you, it is humiliating to be the only warrior candidate of a crew of five that wasn’t selected. even if you know you’re responsible for your own shortcomings, including the ones that can’t be helped, “i don’t.” you lie.

shadis looks down upon you, discerning whether or not you mean what you say. he watches only briefly, your focus is elsewhere. eyebrows knitted and lips pursed, you study the ship floating peacefully atop the relaxed waves. this would be the vessel that delivers marley’s finest eldian warriors to heaven, and you could only have the privilege to see it depart. turning towards shadis, you open your mouth to speak, but his eyes just barely look past you, and he raises a palm. the commander promptly steps beside you, avoiding you like you’re a nuisance, and you follow his direction, turning around before your eyes fall onto the blond honorary marleyan standing only a few steps away with his arms courteously folded behind his back. eyeing shadis as he places a welcoming hand on erwin’s shoulder and leads him down the docks without so much as a goodbye, you sneer with green eyes.

“hey, name! name!” you stumble forward as the sudden force of someone’s body engulfing yours from behind overwhelms your sense of stability. an arm slithers around your own shoulder, lodging an arm in the forefront of your neck, dangerously close to your throat. their other arm makes its way around your torso, squeezing playfully before shaking you violently. it makes for an awkward hug, and there is only one person who does this, “hange, you’ll kill her.”

turning your head to the left and being met with hange’s face concerningly close to yours, you lightly push them back by the bridge of their glasses. they cry out something about how you’re too cruel to reject their sappy farewell, pulling you closer every time you push them further away, holding you like a rag doll. peering down at you, to your right is mike, and you only truly pay him mind when he roughly pats you on the back once hange detaches themselves from your body, likely with more force than he initially intended, “don’t you two have a mission to go on?” you mutter under your breath, sucking your teeth and looking up at mike with a raised brow.

“that we do.” he nods in agreement, closing his eyes with a sigh, and prying hange’s limbs from yours. they exaggeratedly whine and complain about how the operation won’t be the same without you there, ruffling your hair until it’s unfixably messy, to which you stare blankly at them, “we’ll miss you.” hange speaks seriously, holding their head in their palm with their other hand secured to their hips. mike, once again, bobs his head in agreement, but gives you a knowing look. you think they pity you, but you pity them more.

“i’ll miss you guys too.” wincing at how your voice wavered with uncertainty, you avert your gaze, and avoid looking them both in the eye. when the silence lingers for two seconds too long, your eyes curiously sweeps towards them, and they’re both already looking at you. hange’s grin grows wider, and you’re lucky enough to dodge their arms this time, reaching out to pull you into one more embrace. you swivel them around by the shoulders, retracting your hands for only a moment before placing them on hange’s back and shoving them into mike, “ugh, go! go! before i seriously start crying or some shit.” the latter part of your sentence turns into a whisper, but it does not go unnoticed by hange, nor mike.

howling and cackling all the way down the incline from the pavement to the docks, hange yells out a— “he’s really rubbing off on you!” over their shoulder. pinching the bridge of your nose and despondently shaking your head, you avoid dwelling on the mention and focus on hange and mike’s figures that fade as they board the ship. once you’re content enough to take your eyes off of them (and allow your poor heart to stop beating), you make your leave.

“and to think you wouldn’t say so much as a ‘goodbye’ to your husband.” blinking owlishly, you’re torn on how to greet levi. you may have seen him throughout the day, but you hadn’t properly spoken to him since the two of you had been wed. and quite frankly, you don’t believe he deserves a farewell, not after what he had done during your wedding night. dissociative memories and unsavory imagery flashes in your mind, causing you to frown; and you are still unsure how you will civilly converse with him now. you’re indecisive, but that’s okay, because levi is not.

draping his arms over your shoulders and wrapping them behind your neck, his left hand drops to your upper back while his right hand supports the crown of your head until you’ve been angled perfectly for him. and he kisses you, hard. you go limp in his arms, refusing to reciprocate the kiss with your eyes wide, and painfully self aware of the people ogling and gawking at you two. levi nips and bites at your bottom lip, like a needy cat, and you press your lips together, sealing them shut, and instinctively, your eyes follow, screwing shut as well. he is displeased with how stiff you are, drawing back entirely, only for him to harshly place a hand on either side of your face and yank you towards him. and despite how brutish and difficult he is being this time around, levi kisses you softly. he’s being gentle, he’s being sweet.

and you are weak to this kind of love, and he knows. so inevitably, you give in, you give him what he wants, momentarily leaning in to return the kiss before pulling away. levi allows his hands to rest on your cheeks for a while longer, studying you intensely. his eyes make you nervous, always had, and continue to, and you nervously bring one hand to sit atop his own, slightly leaning into his touch. levi’s eyes follow your movement, and he is no longer cupping your face, but rather, holding onto your hand and bringing it to his lips. he places a chaste kiss to the ring on your finger, before lifting his head and kissing you one last time, but he does not let go of your hand.

“i love you.” your gut wrenches and heart tightens, constricts even, “i know.” perhaps if you had met levi under a different pretense, one where you and him were not deployed as soldiers before the two of you had even turned ten, and you were not in the midst of a war that threatened your family and nation, you would have found his love romantic. would have liked it, even. because you believe he wouldn’t behave like this, in a way that you don’t like.

“i will come back for you, so take care of yourself and don’t do anything stupid.” he glares at you almost accusingly, like you had done something wrong, like whatever levi had been thinking of at that moment had come true. you only nod, and levi sets his hands on your shoulders and reels you in until his mouth hovers beside your ear, “and don’t you dare think of cheating on me, i’ll do unspeakable things to you.” intimidation, levi’s personal favorite way to remind you of your tight leash. but unlike many fraudulent men who attempt to keep their wives from leaving them, levi has the strength to back up his claims. and you would prefer a marriage without broken bones.

swallowing thickly, you let out a shaky exhale, “of course not, i would never.”

and you don’t, not for the five years that levi had been away were you involved with another man, not once. although you admit, you would have been unfaithful had it not been for his psychotic uncle breathing down your neck all the time (you still wonder what levi desperate measures and what leverage he persuaded him with considering what low regards levi held kenny to), and his absolute godsend of a mother who you had been insistent on taking care of. the latter of the two was the ackerman who you found yourself interacting with the most, kenny wanted little to do with you, lest he suspected you of cheating— which led you to believe he was keeping frequent tabs on you with how often he would abruptly appear on your doorstep to confront you once kuchel had gone to bed. but kuchel, kuchel was an angel.

her circumstances were unfortunate, often bedridden due to her illness and age, but she was so caring. you had known her for a long time, prior to becoming a warrior candidate, when you had first enlisted. you felt envious even back then, when you watched your fellow trainee’s go home with their families. but kuchel was memorable, when she noticed you had been walking down the streets of liberio’s intermittent zone by yourself, she approached you with her hand in younger levi’s, and asked where your parents were. naïve as you were, as any child was, you were honest, and she was mortified.

thus, kuchel would walk you to your home every evening when she came to pick up levi, and she was surprised that levi not once opposed your presence. if she didn’t know any better, she would have presumed he actually looked forward to it. and over the years you had stopped seeing her, she had fallen more ill, and it had turned into only levi walking you home.

it was blatantly obvious what was going on, and kuchel has a difficult time looking you in the eyes these days. you speculate that maybe she feels guilty for letting her son have his way with you, for allowing it to go on for so long and ignoring the telltale signs (giving you half-withered flowers he found, following you when you told him not to, darkly confessing his pre-planned future with you to her). but in reality, sometimes, she doesn’t believe she deserves your care. but you’ve forgiven her, she knows because you stay, and she is forever grateful for you.

that is why she doesn’t stop you when you badmouth her brother in her presence, why she doesn’t stop you when you throw out every item that reminds you of her son, why she doesn’t stop you when you cry and scream about how you hate to be here, how you’ll find a way to legally unbind yourself from this unwanted marriage. but that is also why she doesn’t tell you that the ship has docked at the moor five years later. the honorary marleyan’s had returned, or rather, he returned. only him. you come to find out that levi had been the sole survivor of the four warriors, that erwin, hange, and mike had all passed along the way. and you don’t know who you feel more sorry for, for yourself, or for him.

“i missed you.” you know, you know levi’s missed you with the way he marks you. and you think you’re going to pass out. it’s hot, and you think he’s trying to kill you, suffocating you under his weight as he slams his body down onto yours when you try to crawl away. like he’s attempting to become one with you, levi’s hand holds yours, and he pushes onto your palm with such force, it feels like your wrist will snap. but the worst part is when he leaves marks all over. your lips are swollen and bloody, but so is your neck, and your breasts, your stomach, and your thighs. they aren’t sweet, they blemishes are full of teeth indents and blood, they’re red and sore, and they’re certain to bruise.

levi sighs quietly, “won’t you say something?” gasping for air, you weakly shake your head. but through the delirium and euphoria, levi notices. he takes his hand from yours, and cups your face, lightly grazing his thumb — that was hazardously close to your eye — across your cheek. and although his lips have ravaged and conquered every bit of your exposed skin, he continues to kiss you. but this time, he’s nicer, he’s merciful. first it’s your cheek, then your nose, your jaw, your forehead, your cheekbones, your other cheek; “please, i want you.”

you squirm beneath him when he persists. you place your palm flat against his bare chest, and his heart drums against your touch, “you do— hah, you have me.” levi collapses onto you but doesn’t stop, and you catch your breath, panting in hopes your chest will stop aching. you know you can’t give him anything more, not when he’s already relentlessly taken from you, “i know, i just… i needed you to say it.”

#ackerifle #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere attack on titan #yandere aot #yandere aot x reader #yandere levi ackerman #yandere levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x reader

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popawritter12 · 1 month

Note

Hello! I read your yandere Smoke story, and I liked it a lot! You're a great writer and I'd love to see more Mortal Kombat stuff :)

If it's okay with you, would you be willing to do a headcanons list for yandere Rain (MK1, preferably male reader, if that's okay)? Thank you so much in advance! Feel free to take as much time as you need. I love your work so far! I'll have to check it out some more!

Author's note: It took a little longer because I'm making a new way of making headcanons, after completing all the orders this week I will upload the "first prototype" of this second way of making headcanons <3

By the way, anon, I actually feel comfortable writing any type of gender! It's just that sometimes I think I'm a bit ambiguous when I change the gender of the reader, but if you like it, then I'll just try to improve on that aspect!

Yandere! Rain x Male! Reader

First impressions

He met you when he was trained by Sindel; you were a healer whose skills were nationally recognized for the exceptionality of him; you could cure deadly diseases with inhuman ease.

You were also trained by Sindel, but there was something very different about you, something that caught everyone's attention.

Your pacifism.

Even in the most stressful situations, or with aggression involved, you never raised your voice, much less your hands.

You always preached peace, helping everyone who needed it.

At first, he had a lot of admiration for you. He tried to imitate your techniques sometimes, and he felt that you would be a great guide in his life.

Seeing his enthusiasm for learning, you approached him to accompany him in his training and give him all the information about the use of his type of magic.

Fall in love

He believed it was simple admiration, and in fact you did too, but there was something deep in your soul that doubted; When he followed you like a puppy follows its owner, you assumed it was out of admiration, but that thought that he was looking for something more was always there.

You looked for answers to that question; If you were religious, you went to your God to answer your questions, but if you were not, you looked for the answers in your teachers, in Sindel or in your teachers before her. But unfortunately for you, all of them doubted that Rain could wish any harm on you or those around you.

If he finds out, he would doubt it; Did he really look that scary in your eyes? No! He couldn't let someone like you be afraid of him!

He becomes visibly more intense, everyone notices it and especially you; He is kinder to everyone, but especially to you. He seems more desperate to try to please you, so much so that he even scares you, but he doesn't notice how scary he looks trying to please you.

Beginning of “Yanderism”

His desperation begins to consume him, do you know what is the worst thing that can happen to a man in love? That the person he adores so much is afraid of him.

And do you know what is worse for a man in that situation? Exact! May his despair over your approval cause him to start distrusting people; everyone except Sindel or anyone from the royal family was suspicious of your fear of him.

He thinks anyone could want to wash your head, your best friend? your family? or even unknown?

Any one of them could try to put fear into you, and he ends up hurting a lot of people trying to figure out the root of that fear.

Whenever he saw you he had the feeling that you were perfect in his eyes; You were always so kind, so gentle with all people, with an affinity for magic so miraculous and unique that… it seemed as if you had been born as a God.

But you were weaker than an average human; not only because of your soft personality, but also because the lack of physical training punished you with little possibility of defending yourself against an attack.

But it was okay… After all, they lived in a peaceful world, right?

Relationship or kidnapping

He is manipulated by Shang Tsung, made to believe that “his God” needed protection, that Sindel limited him so that both he and you remain under her command, that if he released all his power, he could defend you, he could keep you safe, protect you. and show you that you don't need to fear him.

It was easy for him to manipulate him, to make him believe that he just needed to work harder to be able to have you in his hands, and take care of you properly.

When Liu Kang himself announces the betrayal on the part of Shang Tsung and Rain, a part of you knew that it was inevitable that sooner or later he would seek more power through other means.

Late you realized that the perception that made you distrust Rain was due to his search for more power, you knew that it was going to be a matter of time before he sought to get out of the limit that Sindel established for him, to seek to break that limit and be able to have a lot of power. more strength than before.

And yet, when he broke in so he could talk to you, you tried to reason with him peacefully.

When you mentioned his mistake, he reacted badly; He tried to justify his decisions for you, mentioning that he did it for you, because he needed you, because he longed for you to understand him, but that wasn't the case.

When he tried to convince you, he went so far as to stand in front of you, on his knees, holding your hands and talking over and over again about how much he admired you, how much he needed you, how divine you were in his eyes, how much he loved you. I needed your presence in your life.

But you rejected it.

“When you make a decision, you must notice the consequences, and if you don't accept them, then you are not willing to mature” That's what you said.

You accepted that he chose a side, but as a consequence he lost you.

And the mere idea that you were going to leave his side ends up driving him crazy, and he ends up making that decision.

In case of kidnapping, where would he take you?

Currently I don't remember the name, but let's say it's where he hides with Shang Tsung temporarily.

And in the end, if we assume that he manages to take you to a secluded place between both worlds, managing to hide you from all the annoying crowds that dare to take you away from him.

Coexistence

He tends to be somewhat annoying, he usually insists on being on your lap or that you hug him, so much so that there comes a point where he stops insisting and just… does things without asking you.

And yes, he loves you to heal his wounds, so much so that he often hurts himself on purpose with knives or weapons that he doesn't know how to handle very well, he only knows that they hurt.

And obviously, because even with all the hurt he did to you, you loved him like a friend, you healed him.

Who knows? Maybe you'll end up being a great dad to… well.

Marriage and family.

He doesn't take marriage very seriously, but he would like it in a sense, in fact he thinks about it sometimes, but then he just forgets, later thinking that it's just a silly idea.

And your family… Well, he doesn't care, in fact he doesn't care almost at all about what your family wants for you; You are one of the best healers —not to mention the best he has ever seen and will see in his entire life— that he knows. It is obvious that you can make decisions for yourself! Of course, as long as he can keep you safe and avoid any “harmful” decisions for you.

In this case, would he adopt?

Yeah, especially if it's some mysteriously orphaned kid who needs two father figures who are also like them. I mean, with your knowledge of healing, and his knowledge of magic... I could be a great idea! He loves the idea that both of you offspring when it grows up will protect you from the same thing he does! Although he also wish they had their own life, you know… Yanderes stuff.

Bad ending

Worst case scenario, they find you; Mileena or others find your location, and try not to come to violence with him.

But Rain can't stand it, why are they doing this? Separate him from the love of his life? Of the only man who always treated him with all the respect in the world? Was this his fault for not protecting him well? Or for not being strong enough to protect you?

He gets carried away, and let's just say he ends up killing those who were actively seeking to "separate" him from his beloved healer.

He hopes that you will heal his wounds, so that he can take you away, to a place where you both can go and have your long-awaited happy ending, where you can both be happy without depending on any other being that feels the need to separate you.

But you refused, you shouted no, and you refused to treat his wounds. The main reason was obvious; he had chosen the most extreme and bloody path ever known to you or others.

He didn't take it well at all. Almost immediately, he uses his magic on you; he hurts you, hurts your skin and tears your clothes, threatening and screaming about what he was going to do to you and all your loved ones.

He threatens to end your life, to make you suffer if you don't cooperate with him.

In his mind, he thought that he had finally eradicated those who tried so hard to separate the two of them and keep him from his only source of happiness, and you were crying because you didn't understand that your happiness was worth a price, and that price was blood and life of others, and it was one that he was willing to pay thousands of times over to hold you in his arms, worship you and hold your face in his hands, so he could tell you how miraculous you are.

And it is after that threat that he releases you, abruptly releasing your body to the ground, almost compressing your bones; An extremely painful sensation ran through your body, one such that it only made you sob due to the pain. Even if you had never cried in your life, that strong, suffocating feeling had made your fear for him increase like never before.

Obviously after that you healed him, and told him you would never leave him.

After all, if he had damaged your bones like this just by letting go of you, what could he do if he really wanted to see you suffer?

Reasons to be Yandere:

-This greedy son of a bitch doesn't usually fall in love easily; Since he was too busy pursuing power, he thought he wouldn't have time to fall in love.

-He sees you as a great magician, a person whose abilities are so divine that you must be protected, you NEED his protection, he is not interested in what you tell him about that.

-When you are "playing" a powerful but physically weak character, it is inevitable that someone like Rain will feel intrigued by someone so powerful but at the same time so vulnerable to any attack.

Extra data:

-He doesn't think he's in love, you're just someone he admires a lot, I mean..., who wouldn't kill for someone that admires?

-He knows that his power is devastating, that's why he does everything possible to get along with you, but when he doesn't succeed… he gets frustrated, he gets so frustrated that he even thinks about it for several nights.

-I feel like he is someone who needs someone to tell him when to stop, and you are that someone, that someone who just drives his energy to an almost inhuman point, but it only focuses on loving you, pampering you and giving you everything you want.

-He usually has certain flashes of anger when Shang Tsung refers to you as an object to fulfill his dream, more than once he wanted to kick his ass, but there were more important things, at least for now.

-He usually comes to you when he needs advice or instructions on what to do with his life; After understanding that his quest for power was meaningless, he felt quite disoriented on how to love you correctly, on how to serve you as you wish.

#yandere #obsessive love #poppa thoughs #yandere x you #yandere male #yandere headcanons #poppa things #yandere mk1 #yandere imagines #yandere mortal kombat #Yandere rain #rain mk1 #rain mortal kombat #mk1 #mortal kombat #yandere mk1 x reader #male reader #x male reader #yandere male x reader

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the-moon-lullaby · 1 year

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Hello! May I request Nath, Cas, Lys, Armin and maybe Kentin if you feel like it with Candy who was forced to do some "important ambitious" job (like lawyer or doctor) by her parents with high expectations even so she always dreamed about being book autohor? Thank you in advance! Also sorry if there are any errors in my english

The HSL Boys reaction to Candy’s parents pressuring her to get a prestigious job

N/A : Okay so this post really took a while to write because I really struggle with it yet I tried something and I hope that you'll like it still !

info : it takes place at the end of UL except for Kentin where it's during HSL

𝙲𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚕 :

Castiel probably noticed that Candy wasn’t really enthusiastic about her degree but at the same time she was studying law/medicine so he thought this was normal

(I mean from personal experiences and from what I’ve observed, at university it’s almost impossible to differentiate someone who doesn’t like their degree or someone that’s simply struggling with it. At some point everyone has their little burnout and mental breakdown era and it's almost part of the routine that it become ironically comical. And I don’t even want to imagine what it’s like when you’re studying medicine or law)

So when they all finally graduate from university (except if Candy’s studying medicine, then my girl still has a long way to go) he expected her to be happy about it because now she’ll be able to do her dream job

At least he thought so but the he looks at her, she doesn't look happy at all

It’s probably when Candy is a middle of a mental breakdown or an existential crisis (or both at the same time for more FUN) that she ends up telling him that this isn’t the job she wanted to do and it’s actually quite far from being her dream

When she tells him she wants to be an author, he’s quite baffled because he really didn’t expect this

I mean he knew Candy like to write and read, but she never really talked about making it her career

He feels horrible because he wished he knew and it breaks his heart to see her so distressed

He also angry at her parents because they’re the one that put her in this situation

Afterwards he’ll try to find a solution at all cost

Castiel is a very passionate person and it shows the best when it’s about his passion. Also, I think one of Castiel biggest fears is to live a life full of regret

Therefore it really hurts him to see Candy so close to give up her dreams and he can see that it’s tormenting her

And he loves and cares about her a lot so he won’t let things get worse

Giving up won’t be an option for Castiel (he’s a lot of things but certainly not a quitter) plus, since Crowstorm’s going pretty well, he has some ressources now

He’ll encourage her to take this year abroad with him to begin with and focus on her writing

Since that he now knows that she wants to be an author and that he has some contacts, he might look up names in the book industry so he can share what he learned with Candy (and maybe give her some opportunities who knows ?) or he’ll tell her that he’d love to write what she reads if she allows him to (and that means a lot ‘cause as I said, he’s not much of a reader but for her, he can try to become a better one)

In the end, Castiel is very loyal and whatever’s her plans for the future, she can count on Castiel and is unfailing support

𝙻𝚢𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 :

Firstly, the long distance relationship makes it hard to communicate

Also, when Candy comes to visit his at the farm or when he goes back in town occasionally, she seems to avoid talking about university

He always thought it was because she didn’t want to think about stressful things

But one day, as graduation day was getting closer she couldn’t hold it in anymore and she ended up telling him about the situation

Lysander listened to her diligently but he was very confused the whole time

I think that if Candy’s a writer, it might have been one of the reason her and Lysander grew so close in the first place

Creative/Artistic interests really make people to connect with each other (and I think it’s beautiful) hence, I doubt that Candy and Lysander didn’t really talk about it together

Even before they started dating, Lysander probably asked her if he could read her works as he was curious and she let him

And he liked it quite a lot (maybe a bit biased by love but that’s not gonna keep him from seeing talent)

But when she started university to study law/medicine, he thought that maybe it was because she didn’t see writing as something more than a hobby

He’s can’t believe that her parents set her up like this

Yes because for him, that’s clearly sabotage. How could they dismiss their daughter’s happiness like that ?

However, Lysander can think of a few solutions already

I mean what’s his is also Candy’s

So he tell her that she’s more than welcome to come live on the farm as long as she wants to (even permanently) if she needs to get away from university

He wouldn’t be the one to tell her « you should still finish that degree, it’ll open your doors for future jobs » because for him, there’s no point wasting time trying to « secure » a future for a job you have no interest in or no desire to pursue

To him, there’s no such thing as « prestigious » job and it’s nothing more than an superficial idea based on traditional (and capitalistic) societal standards and that’s what he’ll tell Candy

Overall, he’d encourage Candy to go after her dreams and with him by her side, he’ll certainly fill the lack of support from her parents because he’s determined to see her happy

𝙰𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚗 :

Armin doesn’t know much about being what it's like to be an author so when Candy tells him that’s the job she'd actually like to do he’d just be like « well do it then ? », not really making the connection between this dream and her actual studies

Afterwards would have to tell her that she can’t because she’s studying to be a doctor or a lawyer and again he’d go « if you don’t want to do it, just don’t ? »

At this point Candy’s just « bitch be fucking for real »

However by saying that, he’s not trying to be a bitch or anything, I just think Armin has a very simple vision of things since he knows he’ll find support within in family for whatever he set his mind to (it may not included hacking governmental shit and then getting arrested in front of the whole high school, but I mean it’s not like Armin would do that, right ?)

Like he wants to be a game developper ? ‘Okay let’s do it’. He changed his mind and wants to do something else ? It’s still, ‘Okay, let’s do it’

He didn’t know Candy’s parents actually forced her to study law/medicine in order to become a lawyer/doctor and he’s honestly in disbelief

He doesn’t get what her parents means by « prestigious job » and why they’re so pressed about her wanting to be an author. Like bro, they were certainly not the ones spending 5 years going through the ups and downs (and a lot of downs in these sectors so I’ve heard) of university and they also won’t be the ones having to work for this « prestigious » work as they says for their whole life ???(WHY ARE THEY EVEN TALKING ABOUT IT FFS)

I feel like Armin would encourage her to do what she wants to do without giving a shit about what her parents say

He has this philosophy that can basically be resumed as « doing whatever the hell occurs to him in the bloody moment » (it’s a little reference from the Haunting of Bly Manor but it’s accurate because if there’s one thing about this show, it’s that it teaches us that what really matters is to live in the moment and not for others. I am getting out of topic so I’ll just leave it here lol)

Like if she wants to finish her degree still, he’ll be like « okay sure » but know that he knows about your dream, he’ll try to find different way for you to achieve it

He’d make some researches to find ways to become an author and would find some platform for Candy to write on (yesss tech-boy)

He’d try to support her the best he can and would share her works on social medias and all (he’d also try to learn a bit more about the book industry ‘cause he doesn’t know anything about it. But that won’t stop him from basically being Candy’s manager even if she says he doesn’t need to do that much. He’s really invested lol)

He’s really supportive but he also view this as a kind of mission : she has to be an author ‘cause he won’t stand there watching her while the thought of giving up her dream is tormenting her

𝙽𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚎𝚕 :

Oh dear, he’s completely disarmed when Candy tells him about not wanting to be a lawyer since he really thought that it was her dreams (she was studying this for almost the past 5 years so he assumed that she liked it you know)

He’s a bit relieved though because if his girlfriend wanted to be a lawyer, he’d be worried that his little slid-ups in life (is that an understatement ? I don’t think so. Everyone make mistakes right ?) would discredit or impact her

However when Candy tells him that it’s her parents that wanted her to become a lawyer (or a doctor), he starts to connect the dots

All these times when Candy told him that she felt like she was wasting her time and that uni was hellishly hard (relatable haha) in opposition to how her eyes lit up when she was talking about this idea she just had and that she wanted to write down

Yeah, if he hadn’t been caught up in this whole situation with the drug-deal/gang (whatever beemoov calls this), he would have noticed and perhaps he’d have been able to support her earlier

He feels guilty because he can only imagine how alone she must have felt for these 5 years and also, she kinda save him from such a fate

I mean, guys, his father, before Nathaniel got emancipated, wanted him to go business school to be a CEO or whatever

And Nathaniel did not wanted that nor did he wanted his life to be planned by his father

and damn he succeed in that ‘cause I don’t think Francis (stinky bitch. Sorry I just feel the need to insult this man) really planned Nathaniel becoming a drug dealer so slay Nath (a win is a win y’all. Glad he didn’t actually make a career of it lol)

So, she doesn’t have to explain herself or anything, Nath just gets it

Yet, he’s a bit confused about why she lets her parents decide her future when she basically did everything she could back in the days to prevent him from getting such a life

So he’s a bit confused but don’t get me wrong, he’s grateful for Candy to have open his eyes on who he was and that he had the right to choose his own path (which apparently was drug-deal related. Sorry for that) so be sure that he’s more than glad to return the favour

He’d have long conversations with Candy about it

I feel like Nathaniel, at some point, might have want to become a detective novel writer (maybe in middle school or in the beginning of high school when he was still allowed to have dreams) so he knows one things or two about being an author since he already made some researches on the topic. Therefore, he’d share them with Candy

Also, he’d propose her to read her works if she wants some feedback

If Candy is scared to let everything down to do something completely different, Nathaniel will be here to tell her that at least she’s not alone in this situation and that they can go on this journey together (just to remind that he did a whole post-graduate degree in Literature to become a police officer, this will never not be funny to me)

In the end, no matter what, Nathaniel would encourage Candy to become an author just as she supported him so many times and he’d reassure by telling her that he’ll be her number 1 fan (this man god)

N/A : Okay so for Kentin it’s a bit different because I imagine the situation better in HSL’s settings (idk why but it doesn’t really matter anyway) so in this case Candy is not currently following a degree to be a lawyer or a doctor (and is not one either) but it’s the end of high school and her parents wants her to go to uni in that perspective :

𝙺𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗 :

Kentin can relate with Candy ‘cause his dad kinda wants him to join the army like he did

Kentin’s dad basically wants his son to become another version of him and no, leave this boy alone pls (he’s too good to be like that)

So in this case, Candy and Kentin kinda share the same situation therefore I think they would both feel kinda stuck

Its give them something to bond about (trauma-bond because of the fact they’re being controlled by the parents whose role should remain at being their kids support and not prosecutor. I feel like everyone in this game is traumatised one way or the other. Pls beemoov give them a break)

They would talk a lot about their dreams : Candy wants to be an author and share with the world her stories, Kentin wants to travel and be surrounded by animals (dogs more specifically. He’s a dog-person and I love that for him), both listening to the other with utter trust and attention as they’ve become each other confidant

At some point, (I am not sure which one it would be but I would say it was Kentin since he really seemed to gain some maturity, especially after the whole Evan arc), but one of them just start to think « what if we actually go for it ? Like what if we just do it ?»

I mean they’ve been each other’s support for so long now (at least a few months), they know they can rely on each other. Therefore the idea of risking it all to pursue the life they’ve kept talking and dreaming about seem less scary than the though of waking up at 50 and wonder what could have been (my biggest fear really)

So when it comes to confront their parents about it, it would be this « I do it if you do it » vibe (out of topic but Kentin and Candy’s relationship is too sweet, even if I didn’t play it, it certainly has a special place in my heart)

They would end up telling their parents about their projects but it’s nothing like asking for approval. It’s more like their explaining them what they’re going to do and take it or leave it, no matter what we’re doing it

And we're done !

*Also I just want to add that, obviously, I have nothing against people pursuing studies to become a lawyer or a doctor (and I knows how hard this is so if you're doing that you have all my love & support <3) but it has to be a personal choice. It's only problematic when it was pressed upon you by someone else (especially parents)

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myboipotterimagines · 1 year

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Love Letters - Fred Weasley x Reader

Request: I found your blog today and I absolutely LOVE your Fred fics. I was wondering if you could do a fem!reader where she is best friends with the trio and the weasleys. she goes to the burrow for the summer and she’s become absolutely gorgeous. the Weasley boys + harry realize they have to “protect” her at Hogwarts from gross guys, but Fred realizes that he is actually in love with her. maybe some yule ball jealousy?

(Author's Note - I'm trying something a little bit different with this fic. It reads as a love letter - Not sure how I feel about it yet)

My Dearest Love,

Sixth year was the year that everything changed. Ginny had grown attached to you during our fifth year, something we never would have expected, but will always be grateful for. You were George's friend first - the Gryffindor who was good at Quidditch and potions. That's how I knew you first. I still don't know how George didn't fall in love with you, but he didn't.

I did.

You spent the summer with us, at Ginny's request. No one was going to argue - you were loved by many in the Weasley household. Mum was probably your biggest fan. She would always coax you to help in the kitchen, under the guise of time constraints and her own kids not wanting to pitch in. (In reality, she had warned us weeks in advance to stay out and let you help). I assume she knew that one of us would fall in love with you. Maybe she already knew it was me.

When the Quidditch World Cup was under attack, you were my first thought. My heart didn't slow down until we were all safely home and I knew that you were safe. I knew then, I'd protect you from anything.

Starting with the guys.

The stares started as soon as we boarded the train. Now, they could have been staring at any of us, but we both know they were staring at you. You were gorgeous. Even worse, you were nice. Even the Slytherins couldn't resist you.

When the Yule Ball finally approached, I planned to ask you. I heard through the house gossip that you were already going with someone else - a seventh year even.

Every dance killed me inside a little bit.

Because there you were, smiling, as some other guy held you against him. Your fingers were in his hair and your eyes were locked on his. I wanted to be him more than anything. To have my hands graze your skin and to pull you closer to me. Because I knew, even then, that I loved you.

I'm still sorry I couldn't protect you from Umbridge. The day that you came into the common room, face splotchy from crying, was the first time I ever felt angry enough to kill. Whoever hurt you deserved to be hurt, far worse than whatever had been done to you.

I didn't hurt her, of course. How could I, when you begged me not to? I would do anything you asked of me, without even a second thought. You've always had that hold on me, and boy did you know it.

At some point, you grew feelings for me. I don't know what would cause someone so perfect to fall for me, but you did. Whenever my dad was hurt, you were there. You stayed by my side all break, bringing me peace only you could bring.

I asked you to be mine on Christmas.

You were stunning in your Weasley sweater, that just fit perfectly. I knew I couldn't live a life without you in it, nor did I want to. You said yes without hesitation.

Many might say we moved too fast, but I would beg to disagree. I had been yours long before you agreed to be mine. It only felt right to be yours completely and fully.

I don't know what the future holds. Voldemort's return is futile and I fear that the war will seep into our lives soon. If something were to happen to me, I want you to know that I love you more than anything and anyone. And I have for a while. You, my dear, have me wrapped completely around your finger.

And there's nowhere else I'd rather be.

All my love,

Fred

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #harry potter imagine #hp imagine #hp #harry potter #weasley twins

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idyllic-affections · 10 months

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I see that you do tbhk! If you could can I request friendship hcs for nene, hanako, and Kou? Ty in advance :)

general friendship hcs.

summary. general friendship headcanons with the main three.

trigger & content warnings. references to death.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff. yashiro nene & reader, hanako & reader, minamoto kou & reader. 0.8k words. no pronouns for reader.

author's thoughts. hello dear!!!! yes ofc you can.... the tbhk fans have been finding me recently and it makes me so happy helshsjghfh that's my comfort manga (i say, knowing it is the most horrible, gut-wrenching, soul-crushing manga i have read thus far)!!! i COULD say that this is my first time writing for tbhk, but that would make me a liar, because it's not! my first reader insert longfic was a tbhk one on quotev way back in 2021. i'd say i've improved a lot since then.

YASHIRO NENE—

being friends with nene means getting dragged into all of her supernatural adventures. if you're close enough to her, that is.

she, without a doubt, rants to you about her crushes and asks you for advice! she'll also complain about hanako to you, if you so happen to know about him.

she's super supportive. she's always cheering you on and encouraging you! and also, if you want advice or want to rant to her, she's completely open to that.

she rants to you, so you should be able to rant to her too. it's only fair. she does admit, though, that her advice might not be that good.

also i think nene would be physically affectionate. always hugging you, maybe giving you a lil kiss on the forehead if you're comfortable with that! hand-holding is also common with her.

she would be SO happy if you shared her interest in gardening or cooking! she'd love to have another friend to do those things with. if not, that's okay too! she doesn't want her friends to feel uncomfortable or forced to participate in any way.

she cares about you so so deeply and genuinely would be devastated if you ever got hurt because of her.

if you're a ghost, i don't think your dynamic would change much at all, actually. i think she would still treat you the same!

tell her she is pretty!!!! do not let her insecurities get to her!!!! reciprocate her supportive energy!!!!!

she might actually cry if a friend of hers were to support her so passionately.

HANAKO—

like nene, being close enough friends with hanako means you end up getting involved in things you probably shouldn't be involved in LMAO

i don't think he MEANS to get you involved, because he does worry about your safety, but it just sort of... happens. you end up involved regardless.

dude follows you everywhere, 100%

it's like what he does with nene, just without the romantic subtext LMAO

if you're human? he's sitting in your classes with you. he does it mainly for two reasons: one, because it reminds him of when he was alive, and it's strangely comforting. two, because he loves you and wants to annoy you <3

he's generally very clingy, and if you happen to be a ghost? ohohoho it's FAR worse.

he's always touching you in some way.

playing with your hair, fidgeting with your hands, hanging off of your shoulders... he's very touchy. poor thing is so touch starved.

personal space? he has no idea what that phrase means!

(he does, and if you seriously ask him to, he will respect your personal space and boundaries.)

it doesn't come from a bad place. he just finds it grounding. reassuring.

hanako also generally won't come to you with his problems.

he's not keen on being an open book. if you've known him for long enough, he would absolutely be more open to being honest with you, but if you haven't known him long at all? yeah... he's not cracking. trying to forcefully pry him open wouldn't help either.

MINAMOTO KOU—

he will absolutely, without a doubt, make you cute little homecooked meals.

we all know he's the only one out of his sibling's who is both old enough to use a stove and competent enough not to burn the kitchen down, so of course he would spend time making you a lunch!

especially if he felt like you weren't eating enough or you needed something extra to get you through the day. he notices the little details like that.

he's an acts of service kind of guy. he does little things to show you that he cares.

btw. if you're close enough friends with him? tiara and teru will both know you by name. you'll become like another member of their family <3

(tiara would get so excited every time she gets to see you, practically bouncing on her heels.)

i like to think he's a lil protective!!!! he worries about your safety and worries that supernaturals might want to hurt you bc of his involvement with you :c

teru would smite them before they got the chance, though, so kou really doesn't have much to worry about.

if you're a ghost, i think this dynamic would be very fascinating.

teru would try to kill you. yeah... sorry.

kou wouldn't let him though!! he would believe wholeheartedly that you're good and have no intention of being harmful, and because teru isn't really interested in ruining his relationship with his brother... you get to keep living your afterlife!

(please don't betray kou's trust.)

also if you're a little bit older than him, or if you just seem wiser, i think he'd ask you for advice on a bunch of things!

he doubts himself a lot. be sure to reassure him that he's doing the best he can for someone so young.

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

#aphelion's headcanons 🌸#yashiro nene x reader #hanako x reader #minamoto kou x reader #kou minamoto #hanako kun #nene yashiro #yashiro nene #tbhk x reader #jshk x reader #toilet bound x reader #toilet bound hanako kun

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exitpursuedbyavulcan · 1 year

Text

The Silver Dragon (6/?)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Original Female Character

Word Count: 1010

Story Summary: Lady Arianwyn Targaryen, the Lady of Runestone, was seeded by her father, the Rogue Prince Daemon Targaryen, in an act of unbridled hatred, and borne of her mother, the late Lady Rhea Royce, as a desperate grasp at revenge.

Ignored by her father, and alone following the death of her mother, she is raised in King’s Landing alongside her cousin, Prince Aemond Targaryen. As they grow, the two find themselves indelibly bonded. But their lives are far from the fairy tales they read, and as tensions in the family rise, they find their paths may diverge.

Will they be pulled apart when the dragons dance?

Chapter Summary: Having been worse than ignored by Daemon at the funeral, Arianwyn finally comes face to face with her father.

Warnings: Mentions of rape.

Series Masterlist

Author’s Note: I know this one was short, and I'm sorry about that. I tried a couple things to pad it out but they all felt unnatural. But fret not, there's a new chapter coming, and I promise it'll be a long one!

Taglist: @thelittleswanao3, @trap-house-homiecide

Cold Fire

The main dining room at High Tide was as lavish as the rest of the castle. A great table, some twenty feet long, ran through the center of the room. From the uneven grain and sun-bleached color of the wood itself, it was clear to all who laid eyes on that it had been constructed of driftwood – Lord Corlys was many things, but subtle he was not. The twenty-two chairs set around the table were made of the same wood, backboards reaching up in points that had been shaped by the sea.

Prince Daemon Targaryen sat on one of these chairs – at the head of the table – slouching with disinterest as he picked at the wood of the armrest with his fingernails. He did not look up when the Queen entered the room, his daughter trailing sheepishly behind her.

Arianwyn thought her heart would burst of her chest for how fast it beat. She could no more decipher her own churning feelings than the expression on her father’s face. She curtsied, just as Alicent had instructed. But she said nothing.

Neither did Daemon.

After long moments of silence, the Queen spoke. “My Prince, may I introduce the Lady Arianwyn.” She fixed him with her most withering glare. “Your daughter.”

“Yes, I can see that,” the Prince drawled, at last looking at his daughter. He scanned his violet eyes over her like she were livestock to be appraised. “She has her mother’s piggy little nose.”

Arianwyn clenched her fist to prevent her hand from flying to her face, resisting the instinct to cover the apparently offensive feature. A fire ignited in her heart, setting her blood boiling.

The Queen herself had to bite her tongue to hold back a curt reply. Instead, she smoothed the front of her dress and spoke again. “I am pleased to say that she is a fine, accomplished young woman. She has excelled in her studies, and the Dragonkeepers report that she is equally talented as a dragonrider.”

Daemon grinned as if he had been told a foul joke. “I’d heard the egg hatched. Let me guess, a bronze she-dragon?”

Forcing out a shaking breath, Arianwyn shook her head.

Her father pursed his lips, “Pity. You could have called it after your mother. Few enemies would stand a chance against the Bronze Bitch.”

“Howdareyou?” Arianwyn spat, her oath of silence and indifference entirely abandoned. “How dare you insult my mother’s memory?”

Alicent placed a hand on her niece’s elbow, an attempt to calm the girl’s rage. But Arianwyn ripped her arm away, stalking around the massive table to advance on her father. “You’ve never cared about me for a single moment of your miserable life. And now, after thirteen years, you finally ask to see me only so you can continue to defame the woman you tortured in life?” She reached the end of the table, fire blazing in her grey eyes as she stared down at Daemon. “What kind of cowardly monster are you?”

Sighing, Daemon pulled himself from his chair. He stood more than a head taller than her, even when he leaned to brace his hands on either side of the driftwood table. “Idid not ask to see you.”

Something cracked in Arianwyn’s chest at those words, as the last shred of a primal, desperate hope for reconciliation with her father – a hope she did not know she still held – died. Tears finally spilling from her eyes, she whirled around toward Alicent.

The Queen’s own heart broke when she saw the utter devastation on the girl’s face – knowing that she had been its architect. “I am so sorry Aria,” she breathed. “I thought… A child should know her father.”

Before either woman could say anything more, Daemon strolled casually around the opposite end of the table, a self-satisfied smile across his lips. “If you’ll excuse me, ladies, but there are people in this castle who I shouldliketo meet.”

Neither Alicent nor Arianwyn moved a muscle until the door had thudded shut behind him. Then and only then did Arianwyn fall to her knees, letting out a cry that would shatter the frozen heart of an ice dragon.

Arianwyn cried for hours, despite both Alicent and Brynna’s attempts at soothing her. But there was no calming her fury. It continued to grow, burning brighter and hotter than even the black fire of Balerion, a ferocity that could only come from a shattered Targaryen heart.

She had told herself that she did not care what Daemon thought of her, that she had lived her life happily enough without him, and even that she hated him after what he had done the Rhea. True as her feelings may be, there is a piece in every child’s soul that yearns for the love and approval of their parents. To have that piece destroyed, even when it was suppressed for so long, is a wound from which most would never recover.

But Arianwyn was not just any girl. She was the blood of Old Valyria, and the daughter of Runestone. She would endure.

When her throat was raw from screaming, and her eyes at last dry of tears, she let the fire that burned in her soul cool. It was not quenched – nor would it be for many years to come. Instead, the sprawling red blaze in her chest joined together in a single flame of crackling silvery-blue. This fire burned not with heat, but a cold that made the icy fields beyond the Wall look like a scorching Dornish desert.

Fire burned in the soul of every Targaryen born – but precious few had ever burned cold.

Alicent offered to have dinner brought up to Arianwyn, but the girl refused. She would not hide in a tower like a damsel. She would walk once more into that dining room with her head held high and look upon her father with her mother’s grey eyes. She would show him just how like Rhea she was – that even bent and cracked, she would not break.

Next Chapter

#aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond fanfic #aemond x oc #aemond fanfiction #house of the dragon aemond #house of the dragon #aemond one eye

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pinkandpurple360 · 3 months

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seen fans try to defend Stolas with 'well Blitzo was stealing from his house!' or 'Blitzo tried to snap his neck'

but neither of these points actually addresses critic's main issue with Stolas: that he used the fact Blitzo needed the job for his book and the fact he was getting shot at to extort monthly sex out of him.

nothing that happens in The Circus retroactively fixes what Stolas did in Murder Family. it just doesn't.

if someone steals from you, you're justified in throwing them out / having them arrested / using force to defend yourself. you are not justified in coercing them into sex later down the line. idk what point is even being made here, just that Blitzo is not a good person?? that wasn't even the issue being debated!

as for the snap his neck thing, this is just another place where the writing makes no sense tbh. you could just as easily read it as Blitzo wanting him to stop talking, since according to a later episode Blitzo didn't apparently think it was possible for him to get hurt that bad? idk, to me it's just another black comedy joke that opens up way too many plot holes - and even weirder, neither Stolas nor Blitzo even react to it. So either Blitzo did just want to shut him up or Stolas was so horny in that scene he didn't even react to his crush trying to murder him (and Blitzo didn't even react to his murder attempt failing despite how powerful Stolas is). that part is just bad writing imo, it causes more problems trying to act like it fits coherently into everything else that's going on (and it makes an already awkward 'love scene' even worse)

the whole 'Blitzo seduced Stolas when Stolas was mildly buzzed' thing just seems like another attempt by the writers to make it look like Blitzo was in the wrong first. but he wasn't. that he seduced Stolas and stole his book isn't an invite for Stolas to use said book to get monthly sex out of him once he realized it was the book Blitzo was interested in.

As far as the theft goes, Stolas would be justified in either punishing Blitzo or taking the book back, but not the full moon deal. Stolas was the one who deluded himself into thinking Blitzo would be into it, despite Blitzo giving him every sign to the contrary short of yelling in his face (which he eventually had to do in Ozzie's anyway): ducking his calls, continually rebuffing his advances outside of their engagement, rejecting Stolas flirting with him, the list goes on

The Circus got so close to having Stolas realize he'd been willfully blind this whole time but then his stupid song had him phrase it to make it sound like Blitzo had been flirting with him & fooling him this entire time, when he very much hadn't. If Stolas hadn't initiated the deal Blitzo would have been happy to just keep using the book and avoiding him, and maybe giving the book back when Stolas demanded it. they never had any kind of situationship until Stolas pursued him

When they’re defending the sex pest character and calling the other one the abuser who “SA’d him first!” Even though it wasn’t SA, even though if it was he’s changed! Even though he never did anything wrong!”

Is all of this supposed to make me root for this pairing? Actually he preyed on the other guy first c he abused him too. And? This is the pro stolitz argument??

Look at these pictures and expressions, and then tell me who has the power to take advantage of anybody in the situation.

The contrasting fear and force, versus the authority and desire (there’s no other word for the look on that kids face) and the happy ending is supposed to be the other guy blushing back? It’s just as much of an arrangement as Stella and Stolas mariage, yet that one is beyond contempt but this one is cute “strings of fate”?

Plot of The Circus: No father I don’t want you to give me this girl to take home with me!! I want to take home this boy instead! Wahhh she’s mean, I want the other guy! Wahhh hes mean too! He left!!

A poor person stealing from the rich is not the same as trafficking someone into sex, and calling them up every time you have an issue with your daughter or have even the slightest problems. And the circus only shows me, that stolas has been sexualising Blitzø for 25 years, since he was that size on the left. There’s never a second where he isn’t acting until he talks to him at the tree and sarcastically says he’ll be a good boss, also laughs at the idea that an inferior imp would hire a royal. Not cute. Not making me root for this at all. The only person I can think about is tiny Fizz back at the circus all alone, Barbie wondering where her brother is, or how Tilla would react to Cash trafficking their baby boy like an object to be a royals birthday present.

The Circus makes it all soooo much worse. He’s been desiring him for 25 years and obsessed with this encounter. Even saying “I recall how you like to make an entrance” in a flirty way, and he’s talking about a seven year old child.

Speaking of the breaking neck thing, one thing that I can’t forget is strikers violence, vitriolic hate, and murder attempt….apparently not being as violent and hateful as what Blitzø does to him. And Fizz straight up says Blitzø hates stolas outside of bed too. Now that’s nightmarish. Imagine stabbing someone for making you feel powerless, telling them how much you want them to fucking die, and all they do is have an orgasm. The “sex” was probably a murder attempt and then they both smiled after it.

Watching the scene again, Stolas gets sexually aroused on sight. He escorts him to the bedroom by force, and Blitzo miserably follows him, he even tried to “negotiate out of it” but was shut down. Stolas refused to let him break the fantasy. He also remarks “Ew” at the idea of sex with him. He fake flirted with him, not out of real attraction but to ensure survival and safety, and he then gave him a pity night after the “first ever friend” comment. Which some people have eerily suggested Fizz came to mind. That’s sooo uncomfortable. Was he pretending he was doing it with Fizz? And is that how he gets through it, pretending someone else is under him? Did he say “I love you” during the throes? Directed at him? Could that be why stolas became obsessed?

That’s too dark even for me.

Hell no, Blitzø never looked into his eyes and lied after that night. He’s given him countless, countless statements that he does not feel the same, that he finds his perverted bird needs disgusting. And what goes unsaid is the idea of Octavia witnessing everything is starting to get to Blitzø a lot. When Octavia walks away from him in the illusion at Ozzies, Blitzø looks at him as if to say “are you seriously gonna let that happen?” And stolas mentions how almost happy he is that Octavia isn’t home so he can sleep with him. I have a feeling that pissed him off too. He would never talk about Loona that way.

Like you said, the conclusion to this episode is good if they stick to it like glue. The moral is to not hold onto a fantasy to escape your pain, and that others lack of desire is something you have to accept. No drawing blitzø making uwu blushy faces. That’s not who he is. It’s just not. The little bit of bite he has towards stolas is the only thing keeping him from being completely controlled and taken advantage of by him. You can’t rewrite that to imitate the back and forth fizz and Verosika have with blitzo. In seeing stars it was awfk

#stolitz critical

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transandersrights · 1 year

Note

happy Friday :D for DADWC this week, perhaps some modern AU Anders? 😊

(I take prompts! See info here)

Ty for the prompt!! I took this as an excuse to write ~850 words of Anders in my big DA modern AU for @dadrunkwriting. Content warning for a discussion of an injured child (injured in an accident) and emotional abuse (by a templar).

“Welcome to my pride and joy!” Anders span a full circle, arms outstretched as he indicated the room. “I’d call it cheap and cheerful, but it’s free and we’re based in Darktown, so…”

“Skint and simple,” Lirene surmised. Anders laughed. “Illegal and impoverished?”

"Not illegal,” Anders corrected. “Look.” He pointed in sequence to a poster stuck on each wall of the single-room clinic, which read, in large black and bold letters: ‘ANDERS VALEN DOES NOT HAVE A MEDIAL LICENSE. HE HAS FIVE YEARS OF CIRCLE TRAINING, EIGHT YEARS OF HYBRID CIRCLE/TRADITIONAL MEDICAL TRAINING, AND TWO YEARS OF FULLY QUALIFIED PRACTISE. BY CONSENTING TO TREATMENT BY ANDERS VALEN, YOU FOREGO ANY RIGHTS TO COMPLAIN TO THE FREE MARCHES MEDICAL ASSOCIATION.’

Lirene blinked. “Dubiously legal, then. But you’re just… offering this?”

“Of course.” He said it so simply. Like it was obvious; like people weren’t, two blocks over, being forced to pay hundreds for treatment or wait three months. “There’s a lot I can’t do, of course, with no equipment and no authority to prescribe anything, but if there’s anyone you think I might be able to help…”

“I’ll send them your way,” Lirene confirmed. “What can you do?”

“Emergency healing,” Anders said. “Injuries, mostly. I can give advice or instructions, and there are a few diagnostic tests you can run with magic even if machines are more precise. I can ease symptoms of illnesses, too — but I can’t cure them. Infections still need antibiotics, but if a kid can’t breathe with a chest infection I can ease that, if you want an example.”

“Right.” She wrote as he spoke, but honestly she was most of the way to convinced already. He was a persuasive young man, clearly sure of himself, and clearly should have been qualified, but… “One last thing, so I know what to tell people. Why aren’t you in one of the Lowtown or Hightown clinics or hospitals, charging more than most can afford for a hybrid approach that heals faster than a traditional doctor?”

Anders grimaced. “They’ll leave as soon as they come in if you don’t warn them in advance, right?”

“Depends on how desperate they are,” Lirene said. She saw a lot of desperate people, these days — including people who would go to quacks just if there was a chance of fixing something. All she could do was inform them as to what they were getting into. “But if you can give me something to tell them, I’d hear it now.”

“Alright.” Anders sighed. “I worked emergency care in Central, and I was earmarked for all mage patients that came in. You get cases where kids have been hurt for or because of their magic, so seeing someone like me— meant to be good, right?”

“Of course.” Lirene didn’t need to be told twice when it came to what mage kids had to deal with in Kirkwall, even now. She saw it in the news plenty, and from experience she imagined actually living it was worse. “So, something happened?”

“A lot of somethings.” There was a hard edge to his voice when he spoke, something that just hadn’t been there when he was showing her the clinic earlier. “Sometimes there were kids who’d injured other people as well as themselves. Didn’t matter how injured the other party was — if someone else got hurt, then when the mage kid came into the room, they had to have a Templar escort.

“They were always brutes — nasty when they thought no one was looking. Even when they were meant to be looking after a kid in one of the most difficult experiences of their life so far. These kids are being rushed in to see urgently, and one of them that night? It was past midnight. Poor kid was crying his eyes out, electricity burns all up his arms. He’d zapped his mum hard enough that she was out cold, so he was unaccompanied other than this Templar. Six years old. Could barely get a word out, and the Templar shouted at him to speak up.”

“Bastard.”

Anders chuckled darkly. “I’m glad someone agrees. Anyway, I told the woman to fuck off, get out of my examination room. Legally, the kid had to be accompanied by a Templar, but the woman was so heated I had to— well. I called someone from security I could trust, and he removed her anyway. Boy stopped crying, all the healing was done in five minutes, and I returned him to his lovely handler. I lost my license for breaking the law; endangering the hospital by removing the confessed perpetrator of a magical crime from Templar custody.”

He looked furious, and Lirene was sure her expression mirrored his own. It was patently unfair, and… well, she knew it couldn’t have been the whole story, but it was enough of one that she knew what to tell anyone who came looking for her advice.

A free clinic for anyone willing to seek out a mage healer, manned by a doctor who lost his license in a miscarriage of justice for protecting a child. It certainly wouldn’t earn him any enemies in the kinds of people she saw on a daily basis.

#da drunk writing circle #dragon age fanfiction #dragon age 2 #dragon age anders #anders

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daftbitch · 11 months

Note

Nekomamushi Smut Anon reporting in. o7 Had a shit ass day but I just hit the blunt and what better way to lift a mood than talking about a 17 foot tall cat monster and how we want to fuck him. Okay, I'm copy pasting directly from the post you made a few days ago--sorry about that btw, I somehow missed it but things are a bit chaotic here right now.

Apologies in advance if you don't vibe with my HCs, but also to each their own, so no worries if you don't.

(Also I'm sorry this got way out of hand, this is so long lmao. >.> )

Modern AU: I don't generally do these so this one I have to think about harder. I could see him being a professional weightlifter. Lifting is something he starts younger, but in his mid-to-late 20s he also gets into mixed martial arts and wrestling as a hobby, and everyone is grateful he started late, because he is a MONSTER, and would be even worse if he had started training in adolescence.

-Does side gigs as a bouncer. It's potentially how you meet him; you either work at a place he's been hired at, or maybe you frequent the locale.

-Later in life he reconnects with Inuarashi and the two of them are looked up to as heads of their community in their town of Zou. They show up to all the small local elections and represent the neighbors who may not be able to stand up for themselves as easily and stuff. /end Modern AU

Sexuality: Tbh, being bi/pan, I HC most characters as swinging both ways to various degrees if it's not explicitly stated in canon. We can't say for sure how Mink culture is with regards to gender/sexuality. There's clearly going to be author biases: Nekomamushi remarks to Bepo, when Bepo states he will defend his home too, "Well, ya talk like a man..."* (depending on the translation you're reading, but it's along those lines) so that could imply a patriarchal structure of some sort.

However, bio/zoology is a special interest of mine, and animals function in vastly different ways than humans w/r/t gender. We can't even say they have "gender roles" because those apply to human social constructs. Minks may have the secondary sex characteristics of humans, but they also display behaviors typical of their animal species. So I can see their perceptions on that sort of thing being far more liberal. Every species is going to have its own tendencies--say, hyena minks tending to have their women taking dominant social role, like with real life hyenas--so as a whole, they don't worry about it so much.

That part got long, sorry. Anyway, as for Nekomamushi... I think he ultimately wouldn't care what his partner was gender-wise. He would like someone he can be his unapologetic, boisterous self with. A friend before a lover. I could even see him skewing toward demisexual.

Bedroom Preferences: Usually prefers to top/take the lead with things. Doesn't like being told what to do, but can come around to seeing the fun in playing a subby role now and then if he's properly convinced, but he has to be in the mood for it.

Kinks: -He can do gentle, and he does enjoy gentle at times, but if he had to choose, most of the time he would rather be feral about it. Pinning you down, holding you still while he takes what he wants, scratching, breeding, etc. He's a warrior, he likes for sex to be heavy physical activity, he wants to be tired by the end. This can be an issue with the size/power difference, but so long as you mind your limits and keep a safe word/signal handy, you can make it work.

-Prefers to finish inside his partner. He also cums a large quantity compared to a human, even disregarding his size. The volume's even greater during rut/heat. Like, by a lot.

-During the worst of a rut/heat cycle, he cannot fuck casually. Heat has a powerful affect on Minks and he's no better about it for being a ruler of the Dukedom. Horny brain trumps logic and he will make stupid decisions or make a fool of himself if it means he can get to his partner. --Normally he thinks it's hot to watch his cum leak out of you. But during a heat cycle, he'll try to keep it inside. Doesn't matter if you can't get pregnant due to anatomy or birth control, he can't help it. After finishing, he'll either just stay inside you, or after pulling out, press your legs closed and then tuck you against himself, purring and grooming you while his stupid horny instinct brain just wallows in the happy thought of you being full up.

- >.> ...... <.< ......His mouth is really big. Big enough to fit your lower half. He likes to eat you out like that, you riding the bumpy plain of his huge tongue, while his teeth scrape your stomach and back, and he purrs of how he could just eat you up.

-He likes ear scratches/rubs and finds them relaxing, but there is a specific spot on the back of his ears that's a sensitive erogenous zone. You get real good at finding it. It's an easy way to get him in the mood if he isn't currently.

-Predator/prey RP. He's already a playful guy while also being wild, so this seems right up his alley. He'd like to chase you around a little or 'hunt/stalk' you before pouncing and taking you on the spot. If the power difference between you is large enough, it might not be as fun for him if you can't run fast... but trying to sniff you out from a hiding spot is also thrilling, so it can be worked around.

-High sex. Occasionally will switch out his usual herbs for something that gives a stronger high rather than just a buzz. Prefers to do this one with his partner, if they don't also smoke, he won't be as inclined.

-Likes when you're rough with him too, by the way! Likes his hair and fur being pulled, being bit and scratched... But again depending on the power difference, like... unless you are a fighter, you just might not be able to pull hard enough on his fur for it to feel good, or even scratch through his pelt... but in that case he still thinks it's cute you try.

-Reverse Monsterfucker. (bangs fists on table) like I said before. He gets a thrill out of fucking a human--it's not necessarily taboo, just almost unheard of, and that's exciting for him. Also thinks it's so hot that you're into him and that you're into the same things. Has a high sex drive and loves if his partner is the same way. Something about a human fucking "like a Mink" makes his brain go brrr, he comments on it all the time at first. "So needy, my little kitten's more animal than most Minks, aren't they?"

-Corruption. After fucking him the first time it's over. Sex with people closer to your size just doesn't get you there anymore. Even giant toys don't do help. You need it how he gives it to you, and when he finds that out he's ENRAPTURED. It really gets him going knowing he's made you kind of addicted. He's a touch self-conscious about how strongly he can get off to that thought, so he doesn't talk about it unless it's during sex with dirty talk.

I believe that's everything off the top of my head. (looks at wall of text) ...yeah.

Also I saw you and @toujouhidetora talking about Sulong form and I'm 👀👀 DID YOU COMMISSION DOE TO WRITE THAT??!?!? BECAUSE HOLY SHIT, MY BODY IS READY?!?!?

tbh I don't know that I could survive fucking Sulong form Nekomamushi, but what a way to go out, amiright?

(I can see how it could happen... you're fucking outside under the moonlight, and his growl deepens and he starts getting rougher as his fur turns white in a wave across his body...

Or maybe he's in Sulong form and can't turn back for w/e reason, so you're like. I know what I must do. (salutes the other Minks) Inuarashi it's been an honor.

This better all send. I'm copy-pasting to a word doc just in case so I dont lose it but god. yeah. ok. Trust me when I say I'll be obsessively checking my phone in between customers at work to await your reply!

Talking about this was exactly what I needed after today. I think that's partly why it got so long. I daresay it's therapeutic even, in that for like the 2 hours it took me to type this up (I am a slow writer) I wasn't thinking about the day I had.

So thank you for calling out to me to talk. I loved it.

I’ve had to retype this like three times now. Tumblr keeps crashing. I literally got home from work and I have been thinking of what to say to you all day. I am so sorry it has taken me this long to reply. I get so excited when you do this .

This is me literally every time you are in my inbox. I hope you have a wonderful day and I love you so much. I hope one day you were comfortable that you can come off anonymous and be able to message me but if not, that is completely fine I just look forward to hearing from you my friend.

I absolutely agree with 100% of your head cannons. They are so beautiful. I love them so much!!! 💖💖💖

I feel like in the minx society that everyone is bi/pan. I feel like they wouldn’t really give a shit about what gender the person you are with is and they feel like that’s 100% a human construct.

I’ve been going horny feral over this post for like the last hour. I love it I can’t stop rereading it!!!

I absolutely love the reversed monster fucking thing it is fantastic. I have an OC that I pair him with her name is Sterling. I love her so much and it’s literally perfect for this exact situation. i’ve drawn art of her and him together several times. I’m thinking about posting it.

I really feel like he would definitely be into oral. I feel like he would see it as a challenge to see how many times you can cum on his tongue alone.

YES ABSOLUTELY HE WOULD DEFINITELY BE A TOP!!! I feel like also he would be a playful dom too. I can also see him in certain situations he could be a bottom too but he would really have to be in a very specific mood.

ALSO YES I HAVE COMMISSIONED DOE INTO WRITING A STORY WITH NEKOMAMUSHI IN HIS SULONG FORM CHASING DOWN STERLING AND BREEDING HER!!! (Consensually). I AM TOLD I SHOULD BE DONE SOON I AM VERY EXCITED!!! I CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOUR REACTION TO IT THE MOST COME GET HORNY MURDERED WITH ME!!!

Once again, I think you so much for taking time out of your very busy day to write such a detailed reply to me. I am literally over the moon about how happy I am. Thank you so much for indulging my stupid little whims. I love you very much for this and I appreciate you doing this, I hope you have the best day and weekend my friend!!! 💖💖💖

#Nekomamushi smut anon #Nekomamushi #Nekomamushi x Reader #Nekomamushi hcs #one piece

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nasuversekinkmeme · 2 months

Text

Haunted

Summary / author notes:

Double fill! https://nasuversekinkmeme.tumblr.com/post/714468172064030720/i-want-some-good-old-fashioned-kara-no-kyoukai (“Some KnK ghost hunting”) and https://nasuversekinkmeme.tumblr.com/post/717466704744185856/something-around-ryougi-shiki-and-time-loops-can (“Something with Shiki and time loops”).

As “the one behind that Kirie Fujou fill we do not talk about”, I thought I had the “skillset” to do the first prompt, but then I ran on an issue:

Kara no Kyoukai does not have ghost hunting.

There’s movie 1 but it’s not a ghost, just some underappreciated blorbo with the Sadako look. Then there’s the fog-wraith from movie 4 (does it even have a canon name? If not, I’d like to propose “Miasma”.), but it’s more of self-defense rather than hunting.

But then I decided: we could do the Overlooking View mixup all over again. Except worse.

Much, much worse.

The time loop aspect was added as a justification to why Shiki just doesn’t slash the “ghost” from the get-go.

Stop reading if you are squeamish about damage to the eyes or emotionally attached to Mikiya. Also, props to whoever recognizes what Touko’s machine is referencing.

Fill:

[Haunted]

>1.

He’s gone.

And she hadn’t been there to save him.

What remains lies on the floor, all mangled. Shiki was going to be without anyone by her side again. Just like the time when she was left alone in a coma, when her other self died.

She was certain of one thing, though: whoever did this, was going to end up in a far worse state than him. Shiki looked away -no point in looking for the lines of death in someone who is already dead-, up to the stairwell, and saw something up there.

A ghost. Yellowish gown, long black hair concealing her face. And plenty of lines to strike.

She looked back with the intent to look at the corpse one last time before going up to meet the enemy, but the corpse wasn’t there anymore. Not even the blood.

Shiki quickly rushed to Touko’s office, but she stopped at the first floor. What she saw there shocked her more than what she had seen in the basement.

Mikiya happily walking out of the door.

“I’m leaving for some errands. Take care!”

No way.

The corpse in the basement was his.

>2.

As usual, Touko was in her office, a testament of occult research and Diogenes Syndrome. Her excuse to not pay Mikiya in advance this time was an old machine resembling a photo booth, which had several burn marks from an earlier test.

“Touko, what the hell happened to MIkiya.”

The mage looked away from her magical piece of junk, and stared at her employee-student-attack dog. Strangely enough, she didn’t utter a word for a bit.

“Nothing.” She resumed her work on the damaged gizmo. “Just let me fix this thing, and we’ll give it another go.”

“Touko, I’m serious. I saw Mikiya die.” Shiki’s tone was unusually loud. “All mangled, thrown down the stairs. And there was an apparition watching from the top floor.”

“You’re imagining things. Mikiya is perfectly fine, he just went out to do some errands.”

“I saw that too.”

“Exactly. You’re probably just seeing things, maybe our first test run messed up a bit with your head.”

Shiki sighed. She was used to Touko being annoying, but not uncooperative.

“I’m going to look into what’s going on. You keep working on that space machine or whatever you call it.”

“Spatial conceptual interchange machine, and I didn’t choose the name.”

Shiki walked out of the office, and went down into the basement, where she began one of the toughest tasks of her life: rummage through industrial amounts of clutter, while trying to resist the urge to just kill all of Touko’s rejected artifacts to find if the corpse in the basement had been real.

The sheer boredom made the time she was stuck in a coma look like a festive event.

1 hour of rummaging through objects she’ll never know the use of.

What a shit day.

The boredom was actually tolerable, what got on her nerves was the feeling of impending danger. Normally that feeling would be welcome in her book, but the fact that the danger could just strike Mikiya behind her back turned it into a sense of dread.

2 hours - that’s it, it’s time to stab some garbage -

CRUNCH

The mangled corpse was there again. It had been real.

She quickly ran towards it, and looked up. The ghost was there, walking away, too far up to distinguish her face. Shiki looked down, and Mikiya’s body wasn’t there anymore.

>3.

It had started with that damn machine. Something Touko had gotten from a mage garage sale. She called it “artifact transfer”, but Shiki was pretty sure it was just a mage garage sale.

“Spatial conceptual interchange machine. It’s used to exchange the concept of spatial location between a predefined entity and a target.”

“Who made this and why do we need it, Touko?”

“A Spanish branch of the Mage’s Association. The Técnicos Investigación Arcana, if I recall correctly.”

Touko proceeded to demonstrate the device’s functionality by putting some papers inside of it. After inputting some strange runes Shiki did not understand nor care about, one of the office’s many TV screens was replaced with the very same stack of papers. The mage opened the machine’s door, revealing the TV to be inside of it.

“You know we could just carry the stuff ourselves, right?”

“It’s not just objects. It can also exchange living entities. Would you like to give it a go? We could swap you with this chair.”

Why did she have to agree to that? Right, so Touko wouldn’t bother her later. What happened is that the machine made some noise, and when it stopped she was still inside of it. And one part of the machine now had burns of it. So much for “teleportation of living things”. Why would Touko be so fixated on repairing that piece of junk?

She had no time to ponder on the answer to that question. Shiki’s priority was stopping whatever was going on with Mikiya and the ghost. So she began inspecting the upper floor, which were in various states of disrepair ranging from “abandoned” to “near collapse”. No wonder Touko didn’t want her and Mikiya to peek around the building. But Touko was too busy with her beloved failure of a teleportation machine.

Shiki saw the ghost again. Phasing through a wall - standing almost-inside the wall, on a crucifixion-like pose. The enemy looked unassuming. The only differences between her and the standard idea of a female ghost were her cloth -a pale yellow houseboat-ish gown rather than a white dress- and the bandages on her face.

Shiki raised her knife.

“Did you kill Mikiya?”

The ghost looked up, and suddenly phased into the wall. Or rather, was sucked into the wall.

Shiki quickly ran through the empty rooms, trying to find where her enemy was, like a twisted game of whack-a-mole. She could just kill the walls, but she was already breaking Touko’s rules enough by being up there.

Nothing. The ghost had vanished.

A loud crunch was heard in the distance, coming from below.

>4.

“I’m back!.”

Mikya walked into the office, with his usual smile. Shiki quickly rushed to him.

“Mikiya, there’s something wrong. I need you to stay outside while I figure out how to kill the threat.”

The man’s reply was to walk past her. He just went into Touko’s possibly-magic fridge and started placing the groceries. Shiki made a few more attempts at communication, ranging from kind words to a near-slap-to-the-face, but Mikiya did not respond.

How do you kill ignorance?

“Touko. What. The. Hell. Is. Going. On.”

She didn’t even bother to look away from her beloved teleportation machine. “Shiki, please wait while I repair this. Stop looking around. You won’t like what you might find.”

Needless to say, Shiki didn’t wait and decided to follow Mikiya like a shadow. While he sometimes tended to ignore blatant signs of danger, this was on a whole new level. Mikiya just went through his daily tasks, completely unaware of his partner’s presence.

What was going on today?

Mikiya was fine earlier in the morning, before… that damn machine. If following Mikiya as a bodyguard didn’t work out, she was going to slash that piece of junk to pieces, and then slash the pieces. But for now, her priority was acting as a bodyguard to Mikiya, and nothing would stop her from achieving her goal of not leaving him alone…

…until Mikiya went to the bathroom.

Damn. It.

Shiki decided to just wait, promising herself to not do any harsh actions. 5 seconds later, she opened the bathroom door. Mikiya was fine, although he still ignored her… and the fact that the bathroom wasn’t a bathroom.

An empty room, filled with the corpses she had seen. Except they weren’t corpses. They were puppets. Like the Mikiya she had seen walking into the room, which was standing in the center, motionless.

“I told you not to look.” Touko stepped from a convenient shadow. “I thought this would be the last place you would check. Normally this only happens once per week, but Glaucoma hasn’t taken the sound of your voice well.”

Mikiya left the bathroom, and went upstairs. Shiki quickly proceeded to follow him, but she was interrupted by Touko.

“This isn’t your home, Shiki. Just wait until I fix the spatial conceptual interchange machine.”

“Screw you.”

Mikiya had already left. She rushed to the top floor, but she was late. He was already gone. The ghost was there, dropping his mangled form down the stairwell.

>5.

“What have you done?!” Shiki shouted at the ghost, with an unusual amount of rage in her voice. Her enemy turned around to look at her, except she couldn’t really “look”. The bandage she had seen covered the apparition’s eyes, and there faint bloody smears on it.

“I missed you.”

A childish smile. The voice was familiar.

“…what?”

“I thought you were gone. But I heard your voice. I made sure to kill him all over again, so he doesn’t make you die again.”

The ghost raised her hand, and grabbed her bandage.

“…can I still see you?”

Shiki expected the bloodied, empty eye socket.

She didn’t expect what was where the eye used to be.

A blue dot. As if it was drawn over the emptiness in the phantom’s eyes.

“No. You’re still a mass of veins. Like everything else.”

The phantom raised her other hand, revealing a small scalpel.

“…are you Glaucoma?”

“That’s what she calls me.”

Step.

“But you know me as SHIKI.”

>Before.

He was all alone. She died. Because she could not bear the memory of hurting him.

Something was in his eyes. Twisted, pulsating lines. Over everyone. Over everything. In a panic, he tried to remove the source of the problem.

It didn’t work. Every time he removed that bandage, a horrible world stared back. Ghostly threads over a black void, twisting in odd angles. A world of veins.

“Who are you?”

That woman again. The humanoid mass of veins who had more veins coming out of her, attached to something far, far away.

“You’re quite a unique case. I don’t think I have seen someone with Mystic Eyes but no physical eyes before. Do you understand what you’re seeing?”

He did.

He had already cut one vein accidentally. The nurses were still wondering how that one flower in his hospital room had fallen apart.

He understood what he was seeing.

And he knew how much he wanted to tear apart every last one of them.

He knew he wanted to kill everything.

It had always been like this. He was the cheerful one. The one fascinated with murder. She was the one holding everything inside. But she is gone now.

Something else kept coming into his room every night. Another mass of veins. This one was larger, and it floated. When it was near, he felt a misty touch.

One night, it came inside a humanoid mass of veins. It threw him down the window. The outside world was still another mass of veins, with the red, almost fleshy structures’ shapes being the only difference.

What was the point of trying to hold back anymore? She was gone. And he couldn’t see anything worth caring for in this alien world anymore. So he lashed out at the humanoid shape. Tearing the veins with his bare hands hurt, so he resorted to biting. The shape quickly fell apart.

A childish laugh.

Another figure came for him.

“Oh God are you ok? What happened…”

Never been better.

He jumped at the other lump of veins. This one had some sort of coat, but what caught his attention was the weight on it. He grabbed it, and touched to make sense of its shape. A scalpel. His second victim, and the first one he killed with an actual weapon, was some poor doctor.

He wasn’t the last.

He quickly ran through empty paths between huge spires of veins -alleyways?-, tearing every moving mass of veins he saw. Until he ran into him again. He recognized his voice.

Mikiya,

Shiki loved him. He wanted Shiki to be ok, so he did what he could to hold back during that time. To be normal. Everything for Mikiya.

For what.

It was his fault. Shiki herself told him to leave. And he kept coming back. He did this to him. What did they even see on him? He was just another lump of threads.

“I don’t… want to die…”

A warm smile.

“I want to kill you.”

Mikiya was the first victim he genuinely hated.

Suddenly, something restrained him.

“Mages really underestimate simple magic. It might not look impressive, but a restraining spell can do wonders if it catches the target by surprise.”

That woman again. The magician.

“You really have lost yourself. I would even go as far as saying that you qualify as a demon now… and I would be interested in that.”

>Now.

Shiki took a defensive position, trying to study her opponent. Glaucoma was an exact mirror of her during her time at the hospital, with the only difference being those hollow eyes and that seemingly angelic smile.

“Why did you kill him!?”

“It was his fault. You told him to leave us alone, but he kept coming back. I loved tearing all of his veins apart.”

Shiki took a few steps back. If she had been asked if she wanted to see SHIKI again she would have quickly responded affirmatively… but this wasn’t the SHIKI she remembered. Glaucoma was everything she rejected from him.

“You really are demonic. I can kill you.”

She charged towards what could be considered a ghost but wasn’t. Glaucoma responded by slashing the floor, making both fall down into another of Touko’s rooms of randomly-placed magical artifacts. He got back up and tried to cut his alternate self, only for her to dodge gracefully. Just as Shiki thought she had the upper hand, the parallel SHIKI was in front of her.

“You still see the world, right? You still think there’s something different in all of them. But it’s all just veins underneath that. You, me, everyone, things, the distance between us, the air we breathe…”

He slashed at the air around Shiki, causing her to lose breath, and then at her knife. But she wasn’t harmless even if she was disarmed. Shiki punched the mockery of her other self in the face with her prosthetic arm, sending him tumbling backwards.

This wasn’t a fight between equals. Glaucoma was physically slower and weaker, but his Mystic Eyes were more dangerous than hers. Shiki still needed some time to see the lines of conceptual things, because she had to find a way to visualize them. The other SHIKI didn’t have that drawback, as everything was just lines over darkness in his eyes.

Wait, that’s it.

Glaucoma got back up, gasping for air. That had hurt. It was clear now, the figure of veins with Shiki’s voice wasn’t her Shiki. Could it be one of Touko’s tests? Maybe he could put the blindfold back and rest. The darkness was comforting. An empty void. Like the one where she had last seen her. The real one, not the impostor.

No, no, no. He was going to kill the impostor. If Touko wasn’t doing anything, that means he could kill her without consequences. He looked at that room, but all he saw was those horrible veins. He wanted to tear apart all of them, but Touko would punish him if he did. He was only allowed to slice the lines she approved, the demons and rogue mages she hunted, the puppets of his first victim she gave him as a reward…

One of the lumps of threads moved, and got to him before he could react, run away or slash one of the odd veins - the ones that meant things that weren’t alive, like “far away”, “future”, “light”… it was her. The impostor. She restrained the arm he was holding the knife with, and grabbed his neck with her fake arm.

“The only way you can tell something alive from something dead is to see if it moves, right?”

Cheater. She had been hiding. No, not even hiding, just standing still. He wasn’t going to let her kill him. Glaucoma punched Shiki, except it wasn’t a punch. His hand phased through her torso, grabbed one of the lines and tried to pull. The impostor responded by tightening her grip, making him gasp for air.

The battle between two grim reapers was going to be decided by a twisted game of arm wrestling. Or, it would have been decided by that factor, if it had continued.

Both parties were hit off-guard by different restraining spells. Glaucoma was fully knocked out, whereas Shiki merely fell to the floor.

“Curiosity killed the cat, satisfaction brought it back.” Touko muttered. “But was that satisfaction worth the experience of death?” She grabbed the fake ghost, put his blindfold back, and threw him into the wall, which absorbed him as if it had done before. “Maybe I can make him believe all of this was a nightmare when he wakes up.”

Shiki got back up. She could have asked many different questions, but she chose the most important one.

“How do I get back to my world?”

“So you figured it out. That machine’s malfunction took you to what you would call a parallel timeline, and what I call the world.”

Shiki sighed. Of course Touko was going to engage in extensive verbal tangents even if she wasn’t her Touko.

“Did you fix it?”

“It’s been fixed for around five minutes.”

“WHAT?”

“Since you were so persistent in finding my secrets, I decided to let you have your way once I had the machine fixed and stop the eventual fight when any of you two got in danger. Besides, it’s not every day you get to see a fight between two bearers of the Mystic Eyes of Death Perception.”

Shiki didn’t even bother to reply, and just walked to that damn machine. The alternate Touko closed the door. A few seconds and strange noises later, her Touko opened the door.

“See, Mikiya? I told you there was nothing to worry about.”

He was there, fine as always. Home, sweet home. Shiki walked up to him.

“Something wrong, Shiki?”

“Nothing, I’m just… glad you’re here.”

Mikiya was surprised by her faint smile. And he was even more surprised when Shiki proceeded to slash Touko’s machine to pieces a couple seconds after.

“What the hell Shiki!? Why!?”

“It was haunted.”

#submission #fill #anonymous #Kara no Kyoukai #shiki ryougi #Mikiya Kokutou #ghost hunting #time loop

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