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the-bad-batch-baroness · 1 year ago

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.

Masterlist

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f1-stuff · 4 months ago

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VICTORIAN CHARLOS ROYALTY ABO you have sent me into chaotic overdrive with that sentence oh boy am I excited to read that!!!!!!!! Thank you to your brain as always

Hehe I'm glad you're excited!! So am I... 😏 which is why I'm going to share a bit of it now!!! 😝 (sometimes, I simply can't help myself)

For some exposition, Charles is the crown prince of Monaco and an omega, Carlos is the alpha son of a Spanish duke (but distantly in line for the throne, which also makes him a prince). Their meeting has been arranged by carlos' father & cousin and charles' uncle, which makes this a sort of arranged marriage AU, except that Charles still gets to choose his husband in the end. Charles is almost twenty-one, and he's looking forward to certain freedoms that will award him. All of this was inspired by The Young Victoria (2009).

Behold, a 1.8k-word snippet:

Charles’ eyes scan over the chess board, carefully considering his next move. He can feel the looks of the rest of their party burning into the side of his face. He glances sideways to confirm his suspicions, and notes several people averting their eyes in a hurry.

When he looks back to Carlos, the other man is giving him a conspiratorial smile. Charles sighs, his lips curving up at the edges as he settles on moving his rook.

Ever since their walk earlier that afternoon, Charles’ feelings have...softened slightly toward the Spaniard. He much prefers when the man isn’t feeding him answers that he believes Charles will like, and luckily, it seems they’ve mostly done away with that nonsense now. There’s no doubt that Carlos is...handsome. Or that his scent seems designed to tempt Charles. But he’s smart enough to know that Carlos has his own motivations for being here, and that it would benefit him and his family very much indeed if they were to wed. Charles has no intention of finding a mate yet, not when his freedom is so close at hand.

As Carlos decides on his next move, Charles’ face begins to burn once again from the others’ returned stares. His jaw clenches.

“Do you ever feel like a chess piece yourself? In a game being played against your will?” He doesn’t bother to lower his voice. It would likely be futile, not to mention that he would welcome his words having a shaming effect on their company. If only.

Carlos’ curious gaze rises to meet his own. He takes a moment to respond, brows furrowing as he considers Charles’ words.

“I hadn’t thought of it. But I suppose so, yes.”

“I do, constantly,” he sighs. “I feel their eyes assessing me, their fingers moving me round the board.”

“Your parents?”

“Everyone. My uncle, brother, advisors, politicians... They’re all ready to seize hold of me and drag me from square to square.” He chuckles to lighten the tone, and Carlos’ lips make an effort to smile, but fall short.

Carlos glances over at the others, before his attention returns to the board and he finally makes his move. “Then, you had better master the rules of the game until you play it better than they can.”

His eyes meet Charles’, and they hold there, candlelight flickering within their depths in a hypnotizing pattern. It feels like it takes all of Charles’ willpower to peel his tongue from the roof of his mouth.

“You don’t recommend I find an alpha husband to play it for me?” he asks, raising a brow as his rook takes Carlos’ pawn.

“I should find one to play it with you, not for you.”

Charles feels delighted surprise drip down his spine as he considers Carlos’ words. He’s never really...thought about marriage like that. It had always seemed like another prison he would be forced into. But if he were to choose a mate and a husband as an equal, someone who would play with him, like Carlos suggests...

They continue playing for a moment in silence, as Charles decides how to respond, but he’s been thrown off slightly, Carlos proving once again to be unexpected.

“You know, my father wants me to marry King Torger’s nephew, George.” He sees the flicker of distaste that flashes across Carlos’ face, and has to bite his lip not to laugh.

“Hm,” Carlos grunts, picking up his bishop. “What’s he like at chess?” He knocks Charles’ pawn aside, then looks up and grins.

Charles stifles a laugh, glancing over at his family. His uncle and mother are smiling contentedly down at their laps, his mother with her embroidery and his uncle with his newspaper. Charles’ good mood dims slightly, realizing how easily he’s playing into their hands by enjoying Carlos’ company.

And yet he can’t help the affection and attraction that simmers within him when he looks back at Carlos and the scent of dewy grass and fresh oranges caresses his nose, so refreshing compared to the usual dusty stale air of the drawing room.

He wins their first game because Carlos underestimates him, like so many others. But Carlos requests a second match, and this time, manages to take the win. The excited buzz of a good challenge fills Charles with a restless energy that he hasn’t felt in years, and they play a third game, then a fourth, and a fifth. Eventually, as the others are beginning to nod off in their chairs, they decide to retire for the evening.

He’s just taken Andrea’s hand to begin his ascent up the stairs when his name is called out behind him, followed almost immediately by that damn scent. Charles looks over his shoulder at Carlos, who almost appears out of breath, like he’d rushed to catch up to him. They had already said goodnight in the drawing room, but perhaps he’d thought of something else to tell Charles.

“It’s alright, Andrea. Carlos can take me up.”

Andrea’s eyebrow twitches slightly with displeasure, but he would never protest. He steps aside, Carlos taking his place.

“You’ll have to hold my hand,” Charles explains. “It is a ridiculous precaution, but Maman insists.”

“Of course,” Carlos says, bowing slightly.

He offers his hand to Charles, who takes it after the briefest of hesitations. It’s the first time their skin has touched, and Charles suppresses the shiver that rolls through him.

For a moment, they simply stand there, feet unmoving, as Carlos’ thumb settles gently over his knuckles. His hand is warm and large, his fingers slightly calloused, from riding or shooting perhaps. He holds onto Charles’ fingers just tight enough to reassure, but not so tight as to entrap him. It’s a delicate balance, and Charles wonders how he’s managed to find that sweet spot so gracefully.

With some effort, Charles forces his feet to move, and they begin their climb.

“Did you want to tell me something?” he asks.

“Ask you, actually. Your father - he didn’t join us tonight.”

“Yes. He is...his health is poor,” Charles says, pushing through the sadness and worry to give Carlos a polite smile. “We...do not know how much longer he has.”

“Ah.” Carlos swallows, and in his gaze, Charles sees the man’s love for his own father. His brown eyes dip at the outer edges in sympathy. “I am very sorry to hear that.”

“Thank you,” he mutters.

“I would have loved to meet him.”

The sentiment makes Charles smile for real. He isn’t certain what his father would think of Carlos, but so far, there hasn’t been much to object on.

They climb a few more steps in silence, and only when they’re about to reach the top does Carlos speak again.

“I wanted to say that I may not entirely understand what you are going through, or just how much of a pawn you are feeling...” They pause on the landing. “But I know a bit of what it’s like to be moved around like a chess piece in someone else’s game. And I know a bit of what it’s like to feel as though your life is not your own.”

Charles studies him. He seems sincere, but it’s hard to imagine this alpha knows an ounce of what Charles has been through.

“Does your mother also assign someone to guide you up and down the stairs?” he asks, brow arched teasingly. Carlos lets out an amused huff, glancing down at their still clasped hands.

“No, indeed I do not shoulder that particular charge. But I do know how duty and obligation to one’s family, one’s country, can eclipse even your sense of self.”

That strikes a chord within Charles, who has wasted hours and hours of his life wondering who he really is beyond an omega, a prince. If these things were stripped away, who is he underneath?

“And yet,” Carlos continues, before Charles can formulate a response. “I am finding my current duty to my country to be much more enjoyable than I had anticipated.” Smiles spread over both of their faces, and something giddy and dangerous alights deep in Charles’ stomach.

Do not fall for it, Charles.

“Did your father instruct you to use all your charms on me?”

“My cousin, actually,” Carlos admits, startling a laugh out of Charles for his honesty. “He also told me not to let your beauty distract me. Yet, I confess, I have never been so distracted in my life.”

Charles wants to roll his eyes at the transparent attempt to romance him, but all his lessons in etiquette restrain him. Instead, he presses his lips together to prevent a smile, not wanting to give Carlos the satisfaction. Unfortunately, Carlos is watching his expression closely enough that he notes Charles’ attempt and responds with a smug grin of his own.

For a moment, they stand suspended, hands still holding one another’s, both unwilling to let go. And to his slight shame, it is Carlos who ends the stalemate, bowing at the waist to barely graze his lips against the back of Charles’ hand, his breath warm and startling. Charles’ heart stutters, but he schools his expression as the other man straightens once again, releasing his hand.

“Goodnight, Monsieur.”

Charles is afraid to speak, worried his voice will betray just how overcome he is by the barest touch of lips on his skin - not even a kiss, really. Embarrassing.

So he simply nods, then turns and strides toward his rooms without looking back. It’s only when he’s almost through the door that he glances just one time over his shoulder to see Carlos descending the stairs.

He doesn’t wait around long enough to see if the other man looks back.

His attendant helps him undress while Andrea readies his bed. Charles brushes a thumb over the back of his hand, feeling the ghost of lips there.

“Will my lord miss the prince and princesses when they’re gone?” his attendant asks.

“Don’t be impertinent,” Andrea admonishes. Charles just smiles to himself as he undoes his necktie. “That young man pesters you.”

“Please, Andrea,” Charles sighs, shouldering off his waistcoat. “After all this time, you really think I’m going to walk straight into another jail?”

He’s taking off his shoes when Andrea eventually responds. “You must marry one day.”

“Well, I don’t see why I must,” he says, shaking his head. “But if I do, it shall be to please myself, and no one else - not Maman or Uncle or my father.”

So what if he never has children. There will always be another heir somewhere. Sure, it would be dangerous to remain an unmated omega. But if anyone could do it and survive, Charles thinks a sovereign prince, with more protection than anyone else in the country, could succeed.

He’s not marrying anyone just yet. Not even the charming Spaniard with the kind eyes.

#surprise!#i've just been so quiet about it that I finally decided enough was enough 😂#wip #anon #ask #victorian au #charlos #rpf #abo #omegaverse

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moonspirit · 11 days ago

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Cadet!Aruani having a little dance on top of the walls at night, just being silly little lovers in a world of utter misery.

Ohhhhhh anon, this is so cute T____T!!!!

I really like the idea of the walls at night being their little meeting place. After all, they're wide enough for a small corner to be invisible to anyone looking. There's a patch of ground where the two like to sit, sometimes lay, sometimes with a bite to eat or sometimes with nothing at all except for the eagerness to linger in the warmth of the other.

Armin... he looks forward to these nights. There's something about being next to Annie and noticing all the tender pockets she holds. After a grueling day of combat training, his hands are calloused and beaten, but hers are still soft. He wonders how that is, how she can turn people inside out on the fields and yet fill him with awe at how the torchlights illuminate the angles of her face so gently.

He's never told her, but he thinks she touches him like someone does a feather falling through the sky.

And it's fall. There's a harvest festival here in Trost and all the streets have been filled with the sound of music and laughter for days now. Dusk is the time the people put on their best clothes and dancing shoes and turn to a tune in the town square. He hasn't been. Eren was moody and Mikasa lonely and he had to help with the amends.

Now he steals a glance at Annie sitting close by, her cool blue eyes so dark under the moonless night, and wonders if she likes to dance.

"Um," He begins softly, tentatively. "I was wondering if--if you'd like to--"

"Dance?" She finishes, catching him off-guard. Her face turns wry upon seeing the surprise on his face. "You've been tapping your fingers and toes for the past one hour. I noticed."

Armin laughs, half embarrassed, a blush heating up his cheeks. "Oh--is that so, I uh--I didn't think--"

"It wasn't exactly subtle," Annie says, leaning back on her palms to study him. It's what she does, he's used to it now. Anyone else would call it the look of a dangerous, soulless creature but he can't quite think of it like that anymore. The fear he felt before he knew her name and the sound of her voice is long gone - now he has only shivers.

The good kind.

"What?" He chuckles shyly, leaning back to mirror her. "Do I have something on my face?"

She doesn't say anything at first, only stares. Quietly, gently, carefully. Like she's looking at stained glass or something delicate, and unfortunately that's what he is - delicate.

But when her eyes are on him this way, he doesn't hate it.

What does she see? He wonders. Because she's silhouetted against the light, wisps of her hair going against the light breeze, and all he can think of is how she's so... otherworldly. Like she comes from somewhere beyond his reach and somewhere beyond his dreams, a place he cannot... hope to touch or see.

She's beautiful in this firelight.

Does she... see the same in me?

She gets up rather abruptly then and he blinks in surprise. "So," Annie holds out a hand. "We should dance."

Armin squawks. Oh he's good at asking questions but not at following through in action. Shit. He should've known better than to poke at something that required physical skill; something she had in abundance and he had none of.

"Oh, it was--just a question--I uh--I'm not any good at it, I don't think--" He splutters, suddenly wishing he was anywhere else so he wouldn't be making an inevitable fool of himself.

Annie shrugs, taking his hand and hauling him up to his feet. "I can't imagine it's that different from fighting," With another shrug, she adds, "A lot of footwork."

He doesn't protest as much as he should, knowing he's going to disappoint her. Standing before her now, he sees the top of her head, the colour of silver grass, and becomes acutely aware of the fact that he's grown taller... a bit.

O-Oh.

So now if he were to kiss her again--if she'd let him--then he'd have to... or-or she'd have to-

"You look like you're about to have a stroke," Annie points out dryly and he snaps out of his daze. Right. Kiss later, now he has to make sure he doesn't trip and kill them both in a 60 metre fall.

"S-sorry," He mumbles, blushing. "Uh--shall I... uh- my hand around your...your waist--that is..."

Perhaps he's mistaken though. Annie's cool facade rarely ever disappeared but sometimes, just sometimes, like now on the wall under such dark, silent nights, she'd bite her lip and blush.

He thinks he's very lucky to see it, when it happens.

Just like right now. Her cheeks are pink and she won't look him much in the eye.

"Annie?" He whispers.

She just nods.

He's touched her before, but not like this. At most her cheek or her neck or her wrist. Her waist is an expanse more intimate and more sensitive, if the sigh escaping her lips is anything to go by, but Armin finds he'd rather touch her here from now on. She's so stiff and slight in his hold that even when his fingers press between the spaces of hers, she's still not looking up.

"Ann-"

Then she touches him. Just a hand on his shoulder, but it sends sparks firing beneath his skin. She's touched him before, exactly like this, but maybe it's the view of her crown, maybe it's the space of only a few breaths between their heads, for some reason or all of them, his heart speeds up until he thinks he might just combust.

"Let's start." She says.

They dance. It's not like any of the dances in the town square, this is clumsy and graceful and shy and soft. Annie dances and Armin follows, a little this way and a little that way. They can hardly hear any music so high up, but he's got a tune stuck in his ear and hums.

He trips plenty but she holds him firm. It's a dangerous place for a dance, one wrong move and their gear wouldn't be enough. He feels sorry every time her grip tightens but there's no anger in her eyes. Only a determined set of her brows to keep him safe.

"Armin, I swear to god-"

"Sorry, sorry!"

At some point he goes out of tune and then she laughs; Annie laughs. He teases her then and she gets progressively annoyed until she steps on him quite hard and he surrenders.

There is a thought in his head when she looks into his eyes, easy and relaxed, the hint of a smile playing on her lips as they turn slowly.

It's not a thought he has often.

It's usually the opposite.

But with Annie...

Someday, he thinks, looking at her, I hope you'll catch me if I fall.

#askies #aruani #headcanon #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot #snk #aruannie #armin arlert #annie leonhart #armin x annie

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unhappy-last-resort · 8 months ago

Text

The Raven Who Watches (Yandere Lee: Hypperreal x GN Commandant Reader)

Warnings: Virtual stalking, secret camera, masturbating to reader while stalking them, mentions of penis (Lee), yandere behavior, reader masturbates in their sleep (no genitals mentioned for reader), some story spoilers for CH.21 Spiral of Chronos and CH.14 Imprisoned Sight. Nothing major, mostly just vague hints and implications you wouldn't get without playing through the respective chapter.

Please let me know anything I missed, or any improvements to make in the writing.

A/N: So, my power was out for a week among other things and I just wanna say thank you for reading and liking/reblogging my stuff, it genuinely made me happy to see how many people were still reading my stuff.

Also, WRITING SMUT IS HARD, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless <3

Status: edited

The room was almost entirely silent, save for the occasional quiet clink of tools against metal and the occasional click of a terminal.

"Could the voice memos be in your voice instead?" You asked it so sweetly he felt his knees might buckle, but thankfully he managed to remain upright while snapping at you to stop making such silly requests.

Of course, that request was why he was at his desk now. He had been waiting for an excuse to make some modifications to your little robot, but thankfully he didn't need to anymore. His ever reliable Commandant made one for him, it was almost like you knew what he was going to do. The sentiment made him smile, even if the logical part of him knew very well that you were just making a mindless request. An intimate one, yes, but still nothing to get worked up over or presume you'd approve of the hobby he'd taken up recently.

"Alright..." He muttered into the dark room, setting down his tools and picking up the terminal to run some tests to make sure everything was running as intended.

He supposed he should test the voice memo function first, but frankly...as much as he loved you, this still embarrassed him, so he decided to test the other function first instead. The functions you didn't ask for and ideally wouldn't know about. The live streaming and camera functions.

Lee turned the face of the robot so it wasn't facing him and turned it on. Instantly, a small square appeared in the corner of his visual module which showed the wall the robot was looking at. He couldn't help the smile that spread across his face at that. Now he had to test how much delay there was between what he was seeing and what the camera was, so he picked up a pen and moved it in front of the robot. He hummed in approval before setting the pen down, there was barely any delay at all.

Next, he had to test audio capture, so he tapped the desk, nodding as it came through the feed only .03 seconds late. He did this for a little bit, getting up and tapping around his room at various distances. Assuming your room is only a little bigger than his, he should be able to hear you anywhere in the room, including your bed.

Of course, this function was most entirely for him rather than you, but it's not like this wouldn't be useful to you either. For example, if you get in an accident in your room and can't call for help, like falling in the shower, or someone breaking in, you won't have to worry about whether help will come or not, because he'll be there to save you. He'll always watch over you, no matter what. You always get yourself in difficult situations, can you blame him for taking extra precautions? Even if those precautions are just a guise for something deeper?

Lee picks up the robot and looks at it. With the audio capture function already preinstalled, he merely needed only make a few adjustments to turn it into a spy cam for him. Now he'd be able to hear your voice more, maybe even get to listen to you sleep, and possibly...

He abruptly clears his throat and puts the robot down. If he delays returning it to you any longer you might get suspicious and he absolutely cannot have you suspicious about his behavior in the slightest. Sloppiness is the downfall of many and while he has the advantage of knowing your habits well enough to use against you, that doesn't mean he can relax at any point. It's you, after all.

He quickly tests the voice memo function, ensuring that it sounds exactly as he wants before quickly packing up his tools.

He got up and picked up the robot before exiting his room. The hallway was grey, as almost everywhere in Babylonia, and the lights were dimmed, indicating sleep hours for most humans and constructs. He could see Lucia's and Liv's rooms across the hallway, doors shut tightly and lights off.

Since Commandants are of higher rank, and constructs and humans are perceived as having professional relationships only and are only tentative friends at most, if that, your room was farther down the hallway.

He supposes he should check your room to see if you're in there, but given that it's only 1 AM and your poor working habits, he figures he has better chance just going straight to the lounge.

With his mind made up, he headed to your office and as expected, the light was on and you were busily scribbling away at something, likely a report from the Science Council, by the looks of it. Without hesitation, he raises his hand and knocks on the door frame.

"Commandant."

You finish writing something before looking up at him, the light from your desk lamp exaggerating your eye bags. "Yes?"

Lee mentally prepared himself as he stepped toward you, it's imperative that he doesn't appear too excited. "I've finished adding the functions you asked for." He internally applauds himself for managing to keep an even tone.

Instantly, your face lights up and you break into a smile he hasn't seen in what feels like eons. "Really? You changed the voice memos?"

"I also updated the movement and response time, since I happened to have some spare parts." He gently placed the robot on your desk, watching you intently as you gently picked it up.

"Remind me at 5 A.M. that I have to go to the Science Council." You make the reminder with a smile on your face, eager to hear a voice you've heard countless times, despite him being right in front of you. It made him feel a tinge of jealousy.

"Understood. Reminder set for five hours and thirty six minutes from now." The small robot replied in his own voice. He had considered making the AI sound more authentic to him, but he decided it should be a little stiff and robotic. That way, if you want to hear him, you'll have to come to him instead.

You practically squeal in delight and he could feel his heating system kick up again. He wished he could turn it off without it causing issue, but he slowly learned to accept it, or at least to ignore it when in your sight.

"Thank you, Lee! I didn't think you'd do it..." You mumbles as you marveled at the robot and he couldn't deny the sense of pride he got knowing how much you liked something he made.

"It was no issue. However," His eyes narrowed at you, doing a quick scan of your vitals. "You need to sleep. Now."

"Just-"

"Now."

You sigh in mild annoyance and Lee decides to push his point further home and turn off your desk light and confiscate your pen. "You need to rest, we can't do anything if our commandant is so tired they can barely function." His words come out sharp and cutting, a little more than he intended, but at the same time he hated when you did this. You always find a way to make him worry, it's why he can never relax.

"Alright, alright...I got it, Lee. Going to bed now." You shoot him a playful glare as you slowly rise from your seat, robot in hand.

"Here, I'll help you to your room."

"I'm not elderly, Lee! I can get there myself!"

"Talk any louder and Lucia and Liv will come down here."

"Okay! I got it!"

You relent with another sigh, dutifully following after him. It took you a long time to get used to letting him walk in front of you whenever you walk together. After all, not even Babylonia is entirely safe anymore and he can't let anything happen to you. Within the time span of him deciding to walk you to your room to now, he's already completed 478 simulations of potential threats, ranging from someone hiding in your room, to Babylonia being attacked, and everything in between.

Thankfully, the brief walk to your room is uneventful, with no Kurono operatives jumping out from the shadows and attempting to snatch you away again, or Vera lunging out from a corner and you both say your goodnights to each other.

It's been three hours and twenty minutes since you went to sleep. In the meantime, Lee has designated himself to completing paperwork that doesn't need a Commandant to fill out. He's gotten roughly 70% of it done and he's decided on completing a few more before heading to his own room.

He's been keeping watch over you, the live stream from your robot open on his visual module. He's noticed you seem to be restless tonight, tossing and turning frequently in the past two hours. Now though, you seem especially restless, your legs occasionally kicking lightly at nothing and your hips occasionally thrusting up-

Lee immediately drops the pen and enlarges the window, zooming in on your face as he brightens the video. Your eyebrows are pushed upwards, mouth hanging open as your chest heaves from under the blankets. Your expression doesn't indicate pain so that must mean...

Lee abruptly shuts off your desk light and walks to his room before he does something he'll regret. As much as the idea of masturbating at your desk excites him, there's a camera pointed in this direction and he'd rather not get written up for his behavior.

As soon as the door shuts behind him, everything he's been keeping pent up for hours catches up to him. Ever since you put your little robot at your desk and went to bed, he had to fight himself not to lose it. God, spying on you excites him so much, he can't wait to start bugging your room and clothes, hell maybe even your bathroom too.

The uncomfortable tightness in his pants reminds him his cock has been straining his pants for the past three hours. He hastily undoes his pants, breathing a sigh of relief as his cock springs out, already leaking precum from the tip as he wraps his hand around it. He zooms out from your face just enough so he can get a more accurate idea of where your hands are as your mouth hangs open and- you moan. You fucking moaned and it's the most beautiful thing he's ever heard in his god forsaken life.

His hand pumps his length, the sound of his heavy breaths and quiet "schlick" filling his room. His body temperature rising at the sudden awareness of everything he's doing. He's jerking off to a live stream of you doing the same from a camera he installed without your knowledge, not only going beyond your Construct/Commandant relationship, but breaching privacy as well.

he should be horrified of himself, he should immediately cut off the feed and question what's wrong with him, potentially even request a transfer, but he doesn't feel any of that. He feels ecstatic at his success of becoming closer to you, thrilled that you two can share this moment together. God, what if you're thinking of him right now? His cock twitches at the thought.

You're so perfect for him, your face, your hair, your mind, your eyes, your body, everything. The way you look like you're in pure bliss as your hand moves under the blanket, if only he could rip it from you.

Actually, perhaps it's for the best that he can't because the simple thought of being able to see all of you like that might make him cum on the spot.

He can almost smell your arousal just from watching you alone. It's the only thing he doesn't know about you- how you smell, or taste. He could only imagine.

His legs tremble as his free hand flies over his mouth, trying to stifle the moans he threatens to let slip. He can hear everything you know, not just your moans, but your sounds. He can hear all of it and he can barely keep himself from spiraling into thoughts about it'd feel to be inside you, or be able to wrap his mouth around you and taste those delightful juices of yours.

Your moans get higher in pitch and you start to squirm a little more and his hand only pumps faster in response, finding himself so close to orgasm. He bites his lip so hard he can taste vital fluid as he tries so hard not to moan too loud as his vital fluid rushes in his veins.

With the edges of his vison going white and your whimpered cry in his hearing module, his cock twitches and sweet relief fills you both as you cum together. His artificial cum dripping onto the floor.

His body relaxes as it feels like mountains of built up stress ease out of his body, his systems caches clearing as he stares at you through his visual module. He watches you stir and bring your hand up to your face with an airy, lovesick smile. You sigh in frustration as you slowly get up to clean yourself up and he chuckles to himself.

It was your first time together and now this will be something you can do together with him for a long, long time. Until, eventually, you'll truly have your first time together.

#unhappy writings #yandere punishing gray raven #yandere lee pgr #yandere lee x reader #yandere lee #yandere pgr x reader #yandere pgr #yandere male #yandere android #yandere fic #yandere x reader #yandere male x reader #yandere male x you #yandere x gn reader #yandere smut #stalker yandere #yandere stalker #yandere writing #yandere

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chimaerakitten · 1 year ago

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Malaria, Sickle-Cell, and Dragons in the Temeraire Universe

so I've been thinking about sickle cell all day because of the very cool real-life FDA crispr treatment approval news, and also I'm just about done rereading empire of ivory so thusly it is time to write the sickle cell/malaria/dragons/benefits of human-dragon mutualism breakdown I mentioned ages ago.

Standard disclaimer that I am not in fact anywhere near an expert on this, this is mostly recall from ANTH 102/215 classes I took five years ago, the info is very simplified and possibly somewhat out of date. I'm doing some quick checks and I write this but only enough to make this an appropriate fantasy novel fandom post, not enough to make it actually reliably informative. I do have a couple citations, but mostly for the parts I'm lifting straight out of a class assignment I wrote, and they're a short documentary hosted on YouTube and the textbook for the class. also none of my links are live because I want this fandom post to actually show up in the fandom tag lol.

second disclaimer is I'm starting at the basic obvious stuff because I genuinely have no idea how much most people know about this and better safe than confusing.

Intro and Background

So the first thing to know about any of this is that human genetics for the most part to not operate on mendelian inheritance. So the punnet squares in high school biology that did human hair or eye color as basic dominant/recessive one-gene traits were totally lying to you. Like they're a teaching tool for a very simple model that works well enough but they're not accurate. Most human phenotypes are way way more complicated genetically than that.

That said, there are exceptions. Mendelian traits (Characteristics that are influenced by alles at only one genetic locus) do exist in humans, a number of them being related to genetic diseases. The list in the ANTH 102 notes I just dug up was: Wet (dominant) or dry Earwax; Albinism; Brachydactyly (dominant); Blood type (ABO, not the positive/negative part); Hereditary breast-ovarian cancer syndrome (BRCA-1, BRCA-2, unknown genes); Huntington’s disease; Lactase persistence (dominant); and Sickle-cell disease (recessive).

So the sickle cell punnet square looks like this for two parents who both have one copy of the sickle cell gene:

Sickle cell is a very painful and life threatening disease, (That's why the FDA approving a crispr treatment for it allowing patients to be their own bone marrow donors is very exciting.) and from an evolutionary perspective, one that very often prevents people from reproducing. It's also not strictly dominant/recessive, in that people heterozygous for sickle cell can have some symptoms like the possibility a sickle-cell crisis triggered in low-oxygen situations (high altitudes, intense exercise, etc).

So one might think that Sickle cell would be a vanishingly rare disease, since having it can be deadly and even having the trait can in some cases cause problems. Only it's not rare by genetically inherited disease standards, not at all.

And to make a long story very short, the reason is malaria.

Malaria

People who are heterozygous (possessing one sickle cell gene and one normal gene) for sickle cell anemia are resistant to malaria. In areas of the world without a high incidence of malaria historically, there is a strong selection against the sickle cell gene, (Biointeractive Malaria and Sickle Cell Anemia, 9:33) but in areas with malaria, both having sickle cell disease (homozygous HbSS) and not having the trait at all (homozygous HbAA) are selected against. People with sickle cell were historically less likely to reproduce, and people who were not resistant to malaria were more likely to die of malaria and also not reproduce. Because being heterozygous with sickle cell is selected for, the gene persists in the population.

The implications of that are best summed up from this map that I just stole from Britannica.com:

I dunno if the percentages on that second one are accurate tbh, other infographic maps I'm looking at give different ranges. but sill, you get the gist about how common it is in equatorial Africa. In the modern United States Black children are much much more likely to be born with sickle cell than white children—the genes don't just go away when the threat of malaria is removed. (And yeah, that's a historical consequence of the slave trade.)

There's some other stuff wrapped up in here too about bio-cultural evolution: There's indications that malaria was not a “significant problem until humans abandoned food foraging for farming” (Haviland, W. A., Prins, H. E., Walrath, D., & McBride, B.). Humans cleared away the forest, which had kept the soil absorbent. Without the vegetation, more water built up on the surface, forming stagnant puddles which were a perfect environment for malaria-causing mosquitoes to thrive, thus creating the conditions for sickle cell anemia to be advantageous. Farming creates caloric surplus which is great for humans, but it also changes the environment in ways that can be detrimental. Malaria is one way, creating the conditions for other epidemic diseases to thrive is another, etc. etc.

But if you've read this far you're probably going "Chi, you promised this would be a fandom post but so far this has been a serious and kind of sad post about disease. when are you going to get to the dragons?"

The Dragons

So the first time malaria comes up in the Temeraire books is in Throne of Jade, when a bunch of the sailors on the Allegiance come down with "malarial Fevers."

Jane, I must ask you to forgive the long gap in this Letter, and the few hasty Words that are all by which I can amend the same now. I have not had Leisure to take up my pen these three weeks—since we passed out of Banka Strait we have been much afflicted by malarial Fevers. I have escaped sickness myself, and most of my men, for which Keynes opines we must be grateful to Temeraire, believing that the heat of his body in some wise dispels the Miasmas which cause the ague, and our close association thus affords some protection. But we have been spared only to increase of Labor: Captain Riley has been confined to his bed since almost the very first, and Lord Purbeck falling ill, I have stood watch in turn with the ship’s third and fourth lieutenants, Franks and Beckett. Both are willing young men, and Franks does his best, but is by no means yet prepared for the Duty of overseeing so vast a Ship as the Allegiance, nor to maintain discipline among her Crew—stammers, I am sorry to say, which explains his seeming Rudeness at table, which I had earlier remarked upon.

I do not know enough about what people thought about malaria in the 19th century to be 100% sure that this is actually malaria, but I think Novik wouldn't want to confuse her readers by calling something malarial that isn't you know..malaria. So I'm going to assume thats what it is. Google is not giving me figures on malaria survival rates before modern medicines for it which is driving me kind of nuts and means I can't say how lucky Riley and Purbeck were to survive with apparently no complications, but that's not the point here anyway. The point is the comment about the aviators not getting sick.

And not only (mostly) not getting sick, but not getting sick even though they aren't actually always near Temeraire. Laurence for example has been working watch shifts near constantly because he's the only one left on the ship who knows what he's doing. That means probably less read & cuddle time than is normal for him and Temeraire, and yet—no malaria.

We modern readers (and Novik) know that malaria is not caused by "miasmas" but by parasites carried by mosquitos. And lo and behold when we get to Empire of Ivory we get:

Mosquitoes sang happily as dusk drew on, though they did not come very close to Temeraire; the flies were less judicious. The shapes of the trees were growing vague when Temeraire woke with a start and said, “Laurence, there is someone coming, there,” and the grass rustled on the opposite bank.

So yeah, the dragons are keeping the mosquitos away. I know fuck all about why—it's probably not heat since you know, mosquitos like warm blooded organisms, but maybe it's an oil or a chemical or some artifact of the way some of them can breathe fire that's present in all dragons or something, they're described as smelling weird a few times, so who knows. If it's a substance like an oil in their skin that could explain why the aviators don't get sick even when they're not nearby, since they could have some on them from contact, but that's just speculation. The point is not the mechanism, just that it's happening.

The Point

This whole post grew out of a throwaway comment I made about the benefits of mutualistic symbiosis with dragons from the human perspective in that one post about how the series has some interesting stuff obviously going on psychologically/biologically. The point of going in-depth on malaria and sickle cell is to show how this is really impressively solid worldbuilding in relation to the Tswana.

See, Empire of Ivory describes locations that seem like they're in modern day Botswana, Zimbabwe, and Zambia, regions which will have had long-term problems with malaria-causing mosquitos. That's not the densest area for sickle cell, but still definitely in the region where malaria would have exerted selective pressure.

Selective pressure which, in a universe where just being around a dragon is going to drastically reduce malaria rates, is going to leave dragon-friendly populations a lot healthier than dragon-unfriendly ones. A community that has a dragon stay every night and work alongside humans during the day is going to have a lot less malaria even without the sickle cell resistance than a community which has no dragon. And considering that malaria is bad enough that sickle cell genes persist despite it also having a high chance to cause a deadly disease, whereas a dragon that's a fully prosocial member of the community is not going to cause more death and instead will probably help with defense and create more caloric surplus (at the cost of consuming most of that surplus) a dragon is just obviously the better option. From there, it's extremely easy to see how the Tswana in the series could develop such a dragon-centric culture and have it be so wildly successful. The dragons provide fertilizer, the dragons allow for fully domesticated elephants, and the dragons render malaria—one of the deadliest diseases in history—nearly a nonissue. Of course they're family.

Citations:

Biointeractive. (2014, August 26). Malaria and Sickle Cell Anemia - HHMI BioInteractive Video. Retrieved October 3, 2018, from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zsbhvl2nVNE

Haviland, W. A., Prins, H. E., Walrath, D., & McBride, B. (2017). Anthropology: The Human Challenge (15th ed.). Boston: Cengage Learning.

#Temeraire #it’s more bio-cultural evolution #wikipedia claims that malaria may have killed 50-60 billion people through history but I do not trust that citation AT ALL #regardless its still one of the deadliest killers ever #the kitten rambles #malaria #sickle cell anemia #Artemis if you read this I am sorry for the butchering I made of some anthropology concepts

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sakumasmut · 6 months ago

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Enstars x Reader NSFW Month Day 23

Alpha!Yuzuru x Omega!Gn!Reader

if everything goes according to plan I’ll have one more fic before the month ends…just gotta make it to the home stretch. for now, enjoy

tags/warnings: abo, breeding, jealous sex, possessiveness, knotting, public sex, rough sex

ao3

Yuzuru impatiently looked back and forth between the large screen displaying a timer, counting down the minutes to the start time, and the soft cotton robe he was wearing, adjusting it to no avail. The cloth itself wasn’t uncomfortable, but the circumstances that led to him wearing it in the first place sure made him feel that way. It was a snug fit—too snug, the outline of his intimates visible if anyone looked at him for more than two seconds. The cut of its neckline practically showed off his entire chest despite him being certain of requesting one in the correct size. It was meant to be revealing, and as such was more of a nuisance to wear than anything else. It was because of this that some people around him had gone nude instead, emanating confidence, which was likely encouraged considering the nature of the event.

Ensemble Square was hosting their first mating season hunt. Preparations began immediately after higher up approval, and the sponsors eagerly grabbed the chance to be part of it. Everything was funded the same day it was announced. The hunt’s rules were simple: A large forest purposefully left undeveloped under the Square’s ownership was cleared out of large wildlife, and the alphas and omegas were separated on opposite ends of the area. Omegas in heat would be sent out and get around ten minutes to split up before alphas, placed randomly in one of four corners, got released to find them. After that it was all up to fate to decide who’d run into who, and whether you’d mate for life or just breed for the season.

It was an event to bring the members of the Square closer together—idols, producers, and staff alike. To finish it off, after all the claiming and mating was done with, the younger idols that weren’t allowed to participate would perform live for everyone to enjoy at the nearby venue. Breeding followed by live performances, what could be better?

Yuzuru volunteered to help with the preparations as usual, as it seemed obvious that an event as big as this needed the extra backstage staff helping behind the scenes to keep everything running smoothly. Besides, he wasn’t one to participate in an event like this. He hated putting himself in the spotlight, not to mention the rumors that would swirl if someone from such a renowned unit as fine would take part, yet the moment Eichi offhandedly mentioned your participation all his plans got flipped over his head.

What were you thinking? Were you that desperate for a mate already that you were going to throw yourself at anyone that found you? Yuzuru tried to convince you to withdraw endlessly during the weeks before the day of the event, but you’d shut him down each time, insisting that you were allowed to make your own decisions. Nothing was working, so he was left to take drastic measures; join it himself and find you to safeguard until the event ended.

There was a gleam and knowing look in Eichi’s eyes when Yuzuru signed the contract to join, but even if he suspected the heir of having a hand in your participation, there was no other option since Eichi kept politely declining to pull you out of the mating hunt, repeating that it would be an abuse of power. Yuzuru could confront him about it later, but right now the butler’s mission was to find you as fast as possible, before any unsuitable alpha’s claimed you. You were much too precious to be giving yourself to anyone who just happened to come across you, only someone fully deserving of your body would be allowed to touch it, he’d make sure of it. As for who exactly fit the criteria for a suitable mate, well, that wasn’t important. Whoever it was surely wasn’t going to get to you before he did.

He concentrated on what he remembered of your scent as the last seconds ticked down. He needed to get to you first. Yuzuru sprinted out of the waiting zone the moment the starting signal was given, dashing through the trees at breakneck speed while trying to sniff you out. It was difficult, the smell of fertile omegas throughout the forest throwing him off. He always suppressed his alpha instincts, so being in a situation like this was making it even harder to control himself.

Already, mewls and whines echoed all around, worrying him that each second that passed was a second he’d be too late. He had to hope the corner he started in was close enough to where you wandered off to. He spotted several other omegas as he kept running, not even giving them the honor of a glance lest he give his alpha the second it needed to demand to knot the nearest omega. He didn’t have to look at their faces to know you weren’t among them. Finally, though, he caught a hint of your scent and hurried in that direction. The bottom of his feet hurt, but he didn’t care, his only concern was you.

Your scent grew stronger and stronger, and he was sure he had found you. Yuzuru turned at a bend and was stopped right in his tracks as he spotted a torn up robe, unmistakably covered in your scent. His blood ran cold as he heard your voice, and he dashed through a few thorny bushes to see your naked body pinned against a tree, someone that wasn’t him groping your body and rubbing their cock against your sex. Yuzuru saw red, and his body moved before his brain could think twice. His hands ripped the other person off of you, throwing them to the ground with a loud thud.

“Get. Away.” He snarled, immediately picking you up in his arms.

“Yuzuru?” You were dazed at the interruption, even more so at his sudden appearance. You blinked at him slowly, unsure if he had actually appeared before your very eyes.

The other alpha was far from happy with the interruption, but Yuzuru just growled out a warning to not follow before running as fast as he could while holding you in a bridal carry. Even though he was more than capable, he wasn’t going to waste time fighting someone. Hopefully the other alpha would cut their losses and claim another needy omega instead of chasing after you. If they did, then that was all the more proof they didn’t deserve you.

All around you, people were fucking to their hearts content. Against trees, on the ground, even just standing up. It made Yuzuru’s heart beat louder in his ears, his mind asking why he wasn’t putting you down and ravaging you like the other alphas. Wasn’t that the whole point of the hunt? No, he had to give you a shred of privacy. He kept running until you got to a small, secluded clearing, hidden away behind some thick bushes. The sound of pairs mating was still audible, but the voices seemed far away enough that you wouldn’t be disturbed.

He set you down on the grass as gently as possible, looking over your naked body for any injuries. He would much rather put you on a plush bed, but this was the most comfortable option for now. Your bare skin had some crescent shaped indents on your waist where fingernails dug into you, but otherwise you were unhurt. A wave of relief washed over him, but still, Yuzuru was upset even recalling the scene he had just saved you from. What would have happened if he were even a minute too late?

“Yuzuru?” You repeated his name, staring at his face. The whole time you were in his arms, you were confused, but welcomed the familiar scent of an alpha you were comfortable with. The beauty mark under his pink eyes made you certain this was indeed the Yuzuru you were familiar with, but something was off. He was smiling, but it wasn’t the smile he wore while performing on stage, nor was it the smile he had when he was at peace, making you tea. He was angry. Angrier than you had ever seen him before.

“Did you think I’d let anyone else have you?” The icy tone of his voice starkly contrasted the fire blazing in his heart. “Putting yourself in a situation where you can’t even choose who breeds you, how idiotic can you be?”

His hands cupped your face, making you look him in the eyes. You could see the mix of primal desire and anger, a jarring contrast to his scent, that of freshly folded laundry that reminded you of home. Even when he looked like a predator about to devour his prey, you didn’t want to run. It was the opposite, you wanted to press yourself right against his fangs.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s my fault.” His voice dropped dangerously low. “For not claiming you sooner.”

His tongue licked the side of your neck once, the sole warning you got for what came next. His fangs sank deep into your neck, drawing blood and breaking your scent gland. You gasped in pain and surprise, the static in your head from being in heat suddenly amplified tenfold. His inner alpha howled happily, finally getting what it wanted after spending who knows how long being contained by stupid things like manners and civility. The only suitable mate for you was himself. All he wanted to do was to keep his omega safe, and what better way to ensure it than to have you bonded to him forever?

You were panting when he finally pulled his teeth away, licking the puncture he had left on your neck. It stood out clearly for everyone to see you were claimed, just looking at it was satisfying. Yet Yuzuru wasn’t done, far from it. He grabbed you by the waist, careful not to scratch you, and flipped your body to push you onto your hands and knees. You didn’t listen to him before this whole mess began, how could he expect you to follow his commands? What a disobedient omega you were, he had to put you in your place, to really make sure you remembered who you belonged to now.

“Stay.” He growled out when you shifted around uncomfortably, sharp eyes staring at you when you looked back at him. Right now, he wasn’t a servant. He was the master—your master. You whimpered at his command, but nodded, not making any moves against him. Your palms dug into the dirt as he pushed your legs apart, hole dripping with slick and clenching in anticipation.

“You’re already so wet for me.” He breathed in your scent, the smell of your sex driving him mad. “Just begging to be filled.”

His thumbs pulled the skin of your hole taut, lining his aching red cock up to your entrance. You barely registered his weight on top of you, forcing you to brace your limbs against the ground. All you could focus on was when he sunk into you with one stroke, making you gasp as you immediately clenched around his cock. Your walls tried to cling onto his penetrating warmth, but your wetness allowed him to slip back out just as easily as he pushed himself in, leaving you empty for the split second it took to ram his length back inside you. His hands raised your hips up as high as they could go, gripping them tightly as he plowed into you, not even giving you time to adjust. The cries you let out were the sweetest noises to his ears, it made him want to drag every sound out of you, until your voice went hoarse.

“So, so tight.” He growled. “You’re just sucking me right in. Do you want to be bred this badly?”

Any attempts you made at responding came out incoherent, body simply buckling under his thrusts.

“I know you don’t listen, but keeping your legs spread is simple enough to follow, right?”

You nodded, eyes glazed over with pleasure. You weren’t sure if you even had the willpower to close them if you wanted to. He was pleased with your reaction, speeding up even more.

“That’s right, just let me do all the work. When I’m done with you, you’ll be full with an entire litter.”

Now he knew why people loved joining these hunts. All the primal, animalistic urges he had withheld, the desires he didn’t even know he had, were free. Nothing felt more right than just slamming his cock inside you over and over again, his knot swelling up as his growls grew louder. This was what he was born to do, and your body was made to be molded into the shape of his dick.

“I’m the only one that can make you feel this way. The only one allowed to fuck you, bite you, pleasure you—I’ll kill anyone else that tries.”

“Y-Yuzu—!” You threw your head back as you came, and his response to your walls clenching around him was to slam into you harder and harder, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body.

His knot kept catching on your entrance, denied entry as it continued to swell. He growled, feeling his own climax coming, but delaying it until he was locked into you. There was no point in finishing if he couldn’t guarantee his seed ended up inside you, so he just kept rutting against your ass, the sound of skin slapping skin the only thing in his ears. You were clawing at the grass as if trying to get away, dirt getting beneath your nails. It felt good, but it was too much for your body to handle. A whine left your throat to try and tell him as much, but he just pulled your ass closer to his crotch.

“Almost done.” He grunted. “Just need to stretch a bit more for me, okay? You can do it, you can take my knot. Then you’ll take my seed, my kids—our kids.”

Your eyes rolled back in your head as you felt another orgasm coming, whether you were ready for it or not. You weren’t even sure if your body was ready for his knot, it certainly didn’t feel like it, yet in a matter of seconds he forced it inside you anyways. Thankfully you were too focused on your second climax to feel any pain. His knot firmly locked itself inside you, and he howled as he unloaded all his seed into you. No excess was going to escape now that you were plugged up, and hopefully it would take from how tightly you clenched around him.

Yuzuru didn’t completely still as he let his cum spurt into you, he coaxed more to come out with gentle rolls of his hips, your own following his movements thanks to his knot.

“Does it hurt?” He asked gently, squeezing your hand with his own. This was the Yuzuru you were familiar with.

“I-It’s just a bit uncomfy.”

He shifted your bodies to lay on your sides, his arm acting as a cushion for your shoulders.

“Better?”

You nodded. He was much more tender with you than he was just a moment ago, and you wondered if this was still the same Yuzuru that had made it clear that he was your alpha, that had given you the fucking of a lifetime. Both sides you had seen of him were the same man, and even if his rough side was unexpected, you weren’t against it at all.

“The knot will deflate in a few minutes, so for now avoid moving excessively.”

He untied his robe, pulling it over you to warm you up as much as possible. Not that you needed it from how warm your body still was, especially around your belly, where all his seed was safely locked inside you, sure to impregnate you. Being in Yuzuru’s arms, stuck on his cock, naked, sweaty, and on the ground of a semi-public forest, you couldn’t help but laugh at the situation.

“What’s funny?”

“I knew you’d find me.”

Your heart was set on Yuzuru from the beginning, but knowing him, he was never going to even think about dating you. Your plan was risky, and being found by another alpha first wasn’t part of it, but it all turned out as you had hoped—bonded to him forever, and maybe having his kids if you were lucky. He let out a sigh, pulling you closer to him.

“Master Eichi knew, didn’t he?”

“Yup.”

“I’ll have very strong words for him once we’re done here.”

For now though, he was content with wrapping his new mate in a warm embrace.

#esxreadernsfwmonth2024 #enstars smut #ensemble stars smut #enstars x reader smut #yuzuru fushimi smut #nsft es!!

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spacetimewithstuartgary · 4 months ago

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DUNE scientists observe first neutrinos with prototype detector at Fermilab

Symmetry magazine,

The prototype of a novel particle detection system for the international Deep Underground Neutrino Experiment successfully recorded its first accelerator neutrinos.

In a major step for the international Deep Underground Neutrino Experiment, scientists have detected the first neutrinos using a DUNE prototype particle detector at the US Department of Energy’s Fermi National Accelerator Laboratory.

DUNE, currently under construction, will be the most comprehensive neutrino experiment in the world. It will bring scientists closer to solving some of the biggest physics mysteries in the universe, including searching for the origin of matter and learning more about supernovae and black hole formation.

Display of a candidate neutrino interaction recorded by the 2×2 detector highlighting the four internal detector modules and native 3D imaging capability. The bottom image additionally shows the detectors surrounding the 2×2 for further tracking of incoming and exiting particles. The DUNE Near Detector will similarly consist of a modular liquid argon detector along with a muon tracker.

Courtesy of DUNE Collaboration

Since DUNE will feature new designs and technology, scientists are testing prototype equipment and components in preparation for the final detector installation. In February, the DUNE team finished the installation of their latest prototype detector in the path of an existing neutrino beamline at Fermilab. On July 10, the team announced that they successfully recorded their first accelerator-produced neutrinos in the prototype detector, a step toward validating the design.

“This is a truly momentous milestone demonstrating the potential of this technology,” says Louise Suter, a Fermilab scientist who coordinated the module installation. “It is fantastic to see this validation of the hard work put into designing, building and installing the detector.”

The new neutrino detection system is part of the plan for DUNE’s near detector complex that will be built on the Fermilab site. Its prototype—known as the 2×2 prototype because it has four modules arranged in a square—records particle tracks with liquid argon time projection chambers. The final version of the DUNE near detector will feature 35 liquid argon modules, each larger than those in the prototype. The modules will help navigate the enormous flux of neutrinos expected at the near site.

The 2×2 prototype implements novel technologies that enable a new regime of detailed, cutting-edge neutrino imaging to handle the unique conditions in DUNE. It has a millimeter-sized pixel readout system, developed by a team at DOE’s Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory, that allows for high-precision 3D imaging on a large scale. This, coupled with its modular design, sets the prototype apart from previous neutrino detectors like ICARUS and MicroBooNE.

Now, the 2×2 prototype provides the first accelerator-neutrino data to be analyzed by the DUNE collaboration.

DUNE is split between two locations hundreds of miles apart: a beam of neutrinos originating at Fermilab, close to Chicago, will pass through a particle detector located on the Fermilab site, then travel 800 miles through the ground to huge detectors at the Sanford Underground Research Facility in South Dakota.

The DUNE detector at Fermilab will analyze the neutrino beam close to its origin, where the beam is extremely intense. Collaborators expect this near detector to record about 50 interactions per pulse, which will come every second, amounting to hundreds of millions of neutrino detections over DUNE’s many expected years of operation. Scientists will also use DUNE to study neutrinos’ antimatter counterpart, antineutrinos.

This unprecedented flux of accelerator-made neutrinos and antineutrinos will enable DUNE’s ambitious science goals: Physicists will study the particles with DUNE’s near and far detectors to learn more about how they change type as they travel, a phenomenon known as neutrino oscillation. By looking for differences between neutrino oscillations and antineutrino oscillations, physicists will seek evidence for a broken symmetry known as CP violation to determine whether neutrinos might be responsible for the prevalence of matter in our universe.

The DUNE collaboration is made up of more than 1,400 scientists and engineers from over 200 research institutions. Nearly 40 of these institutions work on the near detector. Specifically, hardware development of the 2×2 prototype was led by the University of Bern in Switzerland, DOE’s Fermilab, Berkeley Lab and SLAC National Accelerator Laboratory, with significant contributions from many universities.

“It is wonderful to see the success of the technology we developed to measure neutrinos in such a high-intensity beam,” says Michele Weber, a professor at the University of Bern—where the concept of the modular design was born and where the four modules were assembled and tested—who leads the effort behind the new particle detection system. “A successful demonstration of this technology’s ability to record multiple neutrino interactions simultaneously will pave the way for the construction of the DUNE liquid argon near detector.”

Next steps

Testing the 2×2 prototype is necessary to demonstrate that the innovative design and technology are effective on a large scale to meet the near detector’s requirements. A modular liquid-argon detector capable of detecting high rates of neutrinos and antineutrinos has never been built or tested before.

The existing Fermilab beamline is an ideal place for testing and presents an exciting opportunity for the researchers to measure these mysterious particles. It is currently running in “antineutrino mode,” so DUNE scientists will use the 2×2 prototype to study the interactions between antineutrinos and argon. When antineutrinos hit argon atoms, as they will in the argon-filled near detector, they interact and produce other particles. The prototype will observe what kinds of particles are produced and how often. Studying these antineutrino interactions will prepare scientists to compare neutrino and antineutrino oscillations with DUNE.  “Analyzing this data is a great opportunity for our early-career scientists to gain experience,” says Kevin Wood, the first run coordinator for the 2×2 prototype and a postdoctoral researcher at Berkeley Lab, where the prototype’s novel readout system was developed. “The neutrino interactions imaged by the 2×2 prototype will provide a highly anticipated dataset for our graduate students, postdocs and other young collaborators to analyze as we continue to prepare to bring DUNE online.”  The DUNE collaboration plans to bombard the 2×2 prototype with antineutrinos from the Fermilab beam for several months.

“This is an exciting milestone for the 2×2 team and the entire DUNE collaboration,” says Sergio Bertolucci, professor of physics at the University of Bologna in Italy and co-spokesperson of DUNE with Mary Bishai of Brookhaven National Laboratory. “Let this be the first of many neutrino interactions for DUNE!”

#science #space #astronomy #physics #news #nasa #astrophysics #esa #spacetimewithstuartgary #starstuff #spacetime #hubble space telescope #jwst #fermilab

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butcherlarry · 1 year ago

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Weekly Fic Rec 43

There won't be a fic rec list next week since I'll be traveling for the Thanksgiving holiday. I'll probably post some photos, so expect some cows, horses, birds, or whatever I take pictures of while I'm home that look pretty/cool/neat. The following week's fic rec list will be long since I'll have some time to get some extra reading in :)

Anyway, on to the fics!

the art of finding warmth by soetry - Clark Kent & Conner Kent, complete. Superman and Batman find a baby Kon in Luthor's lab. Much feels are had.

in the cracks of light by soetry - Superbat, complete. Bruce and Clark grow up together. Takes place in the DCEU.

I met a stranger dressed in black at the train station by dio_icaurtica - Bruce & Alfred, complete. Young Bruce goes off for his batman training, but leaves Alfred voicemails. Much feelings are had.

Patchwork Pod by Ktkat9 - Superbat, wip. More of the mer Bruce fic! The family keeps growing!! :D

Author's Note by Trekkele - Batfam, complete. A reread for me :) Bruce finds out Jason is alive when he gets an update notification email of Jason's Pride and Prejudice fan fic.

tiger by the tail by pomeloquat - Superbat, complete. Cat shifter Bruce! And he has cat ears and a fluffy tail!!!!

How They Went Home by SalParadiseLost - Batfam, wip. More the Itty Bitty AU! How Tim and Jason came to Bruce.

takes one to know one (the love square) by soetry - Superbat, complete. IDENTITY PORN SHENANIGANS >:D

Looks Like We Made It by Lopithecus - Superbat, complete. Bruce and Clark are dealing some angsty feelings separately. They help each other out.

Something Wicked by JustGettingBy - Superbat, complete. Bruce and Clark deal with a real witch on Halloween. Shenanigans ensue.

a sky of honey by TheResurrectionist - Superbat, wip. More of the Superbat omegaverse fic!!!! Bruce and Jason finally get to have a heart to heart 🥺

ABO Bunny/Clark and Wolf/Bruce! series by xXxSapphireWolfxXx - Superbat, wip. A lovely fluffy omegaverse series where Clark is an alpha bunny hybrid and Bruce is an omega wolf hybrid. These fics have been nice to read after some long days at work :)

Happy reading

#weekly fic rec list #fic recs #fic rec #fanfic recs #fanfiction reccomendations #superbat #superman #batman #clark kent #bruce wayne #batfam

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patolemus · 1 year ago

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As I promised the lovely @lucy-andreas here’s a list of my favorite jegulus fics. Be warned, it’s a weird mix all around:

1. One Thousand Wildflower Fields by ThisLiminalSpace

James is a good citizen. He pays his taxes, waves at his neighbours, remembers his mother’s birthday, works on things and stuff on the Internet like any other human in this day and age, and certainly has never been involved in anything illegal.

Well.

There is a first time for everything.

Notes: no-magic, abo au where omegas weren’t allowed out of the house until recently. Regulus deals with his new found freedom by fighting in illegal rings. James deals… not. Completed.

2. Of Pinstripes And Potions by pansysnarkinson

When James wakes up, his head is pounding. He can’t remember drinking anything, but supposes he must have because it feels like he’s been hit square between the eyes with a bludger. He’s never been one to get hungover, but he knows this is what it’s supposed to feel like. Although, come to think of it, he doesn’t remember celebrating their victory on the pitch, isn’t completely sure they had one at all. The last thing he remembers is turning to look to the stands, revelling in the roars of his fellow Gryffindors, certain that they were going to beat Hufflepuff. Then, he turned and… was hit square between the eyes with a bludger.

Now he’s stuck in the hospital wing, and the bed next to his is occupied by none other than Regulus Black.

Notes: not much to say about this one. Very light as far as jegulus in Hogwarts goes. Completed.

3. James Potter's Application to Court Regulus Black by MiriamMT

“Hello and welcome, my name is James Potter and this is my presentation on ‘Why I should be allowed to date Regulus Black’.”

* * *

When James asks for Sirius' blessing for his and Regulus' relationship, Sirius insists on a formal application and a presentation on why he deserves to be with his little brother.

Notes: hilarious and very fluffy. It’s a one shot and there isn’t much going on in the background. Completed.

4. the golden king by maladaptivewriting

When Regulus Black woke up in 1991 after he was supposed to die twelve years prior, he realized two things. One, the locket he had worked so hard to steal had never been destroyed so the Dark Lord was still alive. And two, Harry Potter, James Potter's son, was in danger.

Regulus goes to school with the Golden Trio.

Notes: one of my favorite Regulus-survives-the-cave fics. Also one of my favorite jegulus fics in general. Follows the golden trio + de-aged Regulus as they go to Hogwarts, and how Regulus’ influence changes things. James may or may not be dead, though he is definitely present. It’s complicated. Ongoing, but has steady updates.

5. All you need is love by touchlikethesun

James Potter is so helplessly in love with Regulus Black. And miraculously Regulus loves him back. And in the end, isn't that all that matters?

Notes: morally gray James. It explains most of what happens here. It gets pretty dark at some point, but I personally love me a Death Eather!James Potter when done right. And this one is definitely done right. Hopeful Ending? Ambiguous Ending? Something like that. Surprisingly, the only steady relationship is jegulus. Everything else is a mess, as Marauders tend to be. Completed.

6. my almost lover by alarainai and salmon_says

“If I was dating Regulus, I would have noticed.”

A pause. His friends all stare at him with various levels of disbelief. Suddenly, he feels very stupid.

“Are you sure?” Remus asks.

Regulus and James are a couple. James is the last person to realise this.

Notes: fluffy and funny. Very light, almost no angst considering the canon material we have to work with. James is a very lovable idiot as per usual. Completed.

7. quite like us by alarainai and salmon_says

[18:12] Seriously, wrong number. Don’t send shirtless pictures to strangers.

[18:13] Padfoot, this rejection hurts.

[18:16] What’s a Padfoot?

[18:17] Wait, is this actually not Padfoot?

[18:19] I don’t even know what that is, but no. I’m not a Padfoot.

Notes: modern au with a wrong number situation. Strangers to lovers, very cute all around with a healthy doze of panic and angst (but nothing too terrible). Completed.

8. Only the Brave by Solmussa

Regulus Black is angry. He wants revenge. He wants to watch the world burn for all it's done to him. He also wants to make out with James Potter, but that's a secret he'll take to the grave. Vengeance is more important than... whatever it is that chokes him when he lays eyes on Potter.

James Potter is confused, because Regulus Black is, all of a sudden, hot. And it's unfair because Sirius is going to kill him if he doesn't get his impulse control in line.

A fic about two idiots falling in love (x2 because there's wolfstar, too) during a war, and the sacrifices they'll have to make to survive it.

Notes: one of the best jegulus fics I’ve read in my life. Gut wrenching, soul shattering angst. It’ll make you cry at five in the morning while contemplating your decisions and at four in the afternoon, also contemplating your decisions. The fluff will kill you, as will the hurt/comfort and the happy ending. Everything in this fic is designed to hurt, but you’ll thank the author because it’s all worth it in the end. A monster with more than 600k worth of words so thread with caution if you’re thinking of starting this at night like I did. Other than that, put on your seatbelt because you’re in for a ride. Completed.

9. Mastermind (Love Made Me Crazy) by MiriamMT

Regulus is consumed by bitterness and pain after his brother Sirius ran away from home, and he blames James Potter for taking him away.

Seeking revenge, he plots to take James away from Sirius. But what starts as a means of vengeance quickly turns into a tumultuous affair, and Regulus finds himself falling in love. Passion and desire turn into feelings and the wish to do and be better for James.

But, as he navigates his complex feelings for James, a dark wizard rises to power, seeking to gain followers among the Hogwarts students. Trapped between duty and love, Regulus is forced to confront his fears, as he tries to protect those he cares about.

Notes: the only reason this didn’t break me the same way Only the Brave did is because it’s half its size. Which is still an impressive 300k worth of words, but you don’t spend wallowing in despair as long. I can promise a happy ending but at what cost? Completed.

10. i regret you all the time by inevitablestars

What happens when James falls for Regulus and his friends lose their trust in him?

Notes: deceptively short summary. I still haven’t finished this one out of sheer fear of how much it’ll break me. I never do MCD or canon compliant fics when it comes to jegulus but the Death Eather!James Potter tag seduced me. I regret it all the time (pun intended) but at the same time I don’t. Can’t say how it ends because I still haven’t gotten the courage to read the last chapter but… thread with caution and keep a pair of tissues near you. Completed.

11. glimpses of heaven by lunahunt

In the aftermath of the prank, James Potter is at an all time low. He can barely look at Sirius, Remus’s dad is keeping him locked up all summer, and Lily Evans hates him even more than usual.

In an effort to get James out of the house, Euphemia signs her son up for a summer Quidditch program with the famous Josef Wronski—seeker for the Grodzisk Goblins and inventor of the Wronski Feint.

The last person James expects to see there is Regulus Black.

[slow ish burn jegulus fic beginning the summer after the marauders fifth year and continuing through the rest of their years at hogwarts] [not canon compliant (aka everyone won’t die)]

Notes: one of the best James characterizations I’ve ever read. The author makes him so inherently flawed and human and it’s wonderful. Post Prank Angst, of course. My only regret reading this is that it’s incomplete, though I still harbor hope that the author will update again.

12. Crimson Rivers by bizarrestars

Regulus Black was fifteen the first time his name was called at a reaping. He's twenty-five when it happens to him again. A lot has changed in that time, and one of them is that he's ready to do whatever it takes to make it home. Nothing or no one will stop him, not even James Potter.

James Potter has no plans to stop Regulus Black from making it home. In fact, his plans revolve around the opposite. He has his reasons, but he's made his choice to get Regulus out of the arena, even knowing it'll be the last thing he ever does.

Sirius Black was sixteen when he volunteered to take his little brother's place in the arena. At twenty-six, without the option to do it again, he has no choice but to be a mentor to his brother and best friend, knowing that only one of them can make it back out.

Two names called, a mentor on the verge of falling apart, and more secrets and grief between all of them than they know how to handle. None of them are prepared for what comes next, or how far they'll go to make it through.

Notes: is it really a jegulus fic rec list if I don’t recommend CR, aka the best jegulus fic of all times? No it’s not, so here it is, the best jegulus fic I’ve read. The Hunger Games au, with aged-up characters. Promises a happy ending but at what cost? Prepare to bawl, scream, look blankly at your wall, laugh and fall in love with this pair of idiots as they fight for their lives. Surprisingly, not everyone dies, and there is a happy ending. There’s pretty graphic depictions of violence though, so thread carefully. It’s a 865k words monster fic (longer than the Bible!) but it really doesn’t feel that long when you’re desperate to see what happens next. I don’t recommend reading this if you’re planning on stopping for long periods of time, though be ready to feel emotionally drained afterwards because this one is the definition of a rollercoaster. You have to have an account to see this work. Completed.

13. just lovers (like we were supposed to be) by bizarrestars

Regulus closes his eyes and shakes his head again, looking pained, then he opens them and sighs. "And your solution to this is me? Pretending to be my boyfriend?"

"Yeah. It's actually bloody brilliant, if you think about it. Everyone will leave happy. I'm going to fake date my way into falling in love," James announces grandly, sticking his hand out and waving it through the air like he's presenting a banner.

***

Or, the one in which James Potter wants to prove he'd be a good boyfriend to Lily Evans and comes up with the brilliant plan to fake date Regulus Black his way into falling in love. It doesn't quite go as anyone expects.

Task failed...successfully?

Notes: no Voldemort au, fake dating trope, angst with a happy ending. As always, Zar delivers complete masterpieces. Also one of my favorite jegulus fics of all times. The angst, thankfully, is not of the life or death variety, which is refreshing in this fandom. You’ll suffer, but you’ll be happy about it. You have to have an account to see this work. Completed.

14. By Your Heart's Calm Strength by pansysnarkinson

Nobody knows who started the fire at Grimmauld Place.

Some people swear it was Sirius, hell-bent on taking revenge on an unloving family.

Others swear it was Regulus, gone mad like other Blacks before him.

The only thing James Potter knows is that the mystery is occupying far more of his mind than is healthy.

Notes: I read this a long time ago but I remember being bamboozled when I did. James slowly discovers the truth of what happened at Grimmauld Place, and falls in love with Regulus along the way. Fluff and angst, of course. Completed.

15. Carpe Noctem by evareinadeescocia

Golden boy,

Lion boy;

Tell me what it’s like to conquer.

Fearless child,

Broken boy;

Tell me what it’s like to burn.

(...)

In which a very nosy James Potter notices that every weekend, when everyone falls asleep, Regulus Black sneaks into an abandoned fifth-floor classroom, and he can't help but try to find out what the little Black is up to.

Notes: another one of my all time favorites. Enemies to lovers, secret relationship, standard jegulus fic. This one has Seer!Regulus, which is both very important and at the same time not relevant at all. Non canon compliant and a promised happy ending which is the only reason I read it because at the time it looked too similar to Choices and I don’t touch canon compliant fics with a ten feet pole. A 680k word monster, it’s currently on hiatus but I strongly believe the author will come back to finish it. Every time I think about it I consider giving it a reread.

16. Finders Keepers by jeggie_toast

"Bloody hell," he murmured. "I really fancy you, Reggie."

It sounded like music, coming from James' lips; a piece that Regulus would like to listen to for the rest of his life.

"...I fancy you, too."

A slow-burn, canon-compliant fic documenting the relationship between James Potter and Regulus Black - from the first time they officially meet, throughout the development of their friendship and eventual romance, right to the moment it all ends. Lots of fluff, no smut :)

*FOR THOSE WHOSE HEARTS CAN'T TAKE CANON-COMPLIANCY* - Stop reading at Chapter 99, then go read my Happy Ending Au: He Is!

Notes: to be completely honest, I did not read the last chapters and skipped to the Happy Ending Au so I have no idea how it ends in canon compliant. I can take a guess though. As usual with jegulus fics, you’ll suffer but you’ll be happy about it. The Happy Ending Au is pretty great. Completed.

17. blue and yellow skies by alarainai and salmon_says

#starchaser is trending.

Regulus Black ✓ @littleking

Why is this a thing? I don't even like Potter.

James Potter ✓ @jfprongs

Replying to @littleking

He's lying. We're desperately in love.

Regulus Black ✓ @littleking

Replying to @jfprongs

die :)

Quidditch Rivals turned Quidditch Lovers. That's what the world sees them as, at least.

Too bad Regulus hates James Potter's guts, and James? Well, it doesn't matter what he feels about their definitely fake, definitely emotionless relationship.

Notes: no Voldemort, modern technology meets magic, professional Quidditch au. Enemies to lovers (though are they enemies if they were in love with each other already?), fake dating trope. Fluff with the appropriate angst dosis, amazing happy ending. Completed.

I know there’s many other fics that are considered must reads for the fandom, but they’re either canon compliant or have MCD, so I haven’t read them, nor will I ever read them. I’ll still leave the links in case someone is interested, but I won’t give any descriptions.

1. Choices by MesserMoon (Canon-Compliant).

2. Art Heist, Baby! by otrtbs (Tagged MCD, the only one of these I may read if I ever find the courage).

3. The Heart of a Lion by orphan_account (Canon-Compliant and Tagged MCD).

Other must reads I have not read yet, so I won’t be giving any descriptions. I’ll still leave the links though.

1. Falls by vantelk

2. pink lemonade by moonysbookshelf

3. Best Friend's Brother by bizarrestarts (needs an account to read)

4. when you were mine by sequinhaze (needs an account to read)

5. The Blood In Your Mouth by moonysmirrorball

#jegulus #regulus black #james potter #regulus black x james potter #starchaser #fic recs #fic rec #marauders era #marauders fic #ao3 #fanfiction

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