#the wolfpack deserved better

[poetrybtch]

am i wrong in assuming that if twilights sick version of imprinting just fit the actual definition instead it would be so much less creepy?

like this is what imprinting actually is (in zoology)

like jacob imprinting on renesmee wouldn’t be that bad if smeyer didn’t make it all weird and romantic like c’mon girl

and in regards to the leah/sam/emily situation, there’s no real reason why sam had to imprint on emily, it could just be like

“oh yeah leah and sam used to date but it didn’t work out and now he’s with emily”

like i genuinely don’t understand. the fact that one of this series��� most problematic elements could have been fixed so easily like omg

and i won’t take questions on this bc i’m right

[kryte-col]

I want the affection.

The brotherly 'you are an idiot but our idiot' kiss on the temple in the quiet of the bunks or in the shadows of the LAAT to remind them they are not machines and they care.

The 'wonderful Job cadet.' kiss on the top of their head from Shaak-Ti in the early stages of the war when she was not privy (or did not want to see) the devastation her boys would suffer and then they would brag about it to their batch afterwards.

The Keldabe kiss that shakes the helmet but just enough to get that trooper moving from a hot zone.

A subtle brush of hands in prep of a mission.

'I saved you the good slop' kind of thought in the commissary.

The quiet understanding and agreement to allow for a nightlight near one of their bunks even though it disturbs them as they sleep because everyone needs comfort.

Affection in its smallest because they are brothers.

[kwop-kilawtley]

I will defend Jacob Black & the Wolfpack till I’m DEAD IDGAF!!!!! As you can tell from my chatterbox badge I don’t shut the fuck up! And I never will <3

[twilightpackfanatfics]

Letters To Santa

Tis The Season entry #2 is live.

Summary: Leah goes to drop off a letter for Santa at her local post office, not realizing it's going to change her life for the better. Prompt: TPFHolidayChallenge1223. Song of choice: Kirje joulupukille by Paula Vesala. Story Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/TPFHolidayChallenge1223/works/51745360 For more information on TPF's final writing challenge of 2023, Tis The Season, please check out the Collection Profile Page here: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/TPFHolidayChallenge1223/profile Twilight Pack Fanatfics Admin Note: I'm attempting to make banners to post with all submissions - If authors wish to make their own, please contact me through FB messenger or via the TPF's Short Story Challenge email listed on the Collection Profile page. xo.

Summary: Leah goes to drop off a letter for Santa at her local post office, not realizing it's going to change her life for the better. Rating: Teen and Up. F/F. Prompt: TPFHolidayChallenge1223. Song of choice: Kirje joulupukille by Paula Vesala. Story Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/TPFHolidayChallenge1223/works/51745360 For more information on TPF's final writing challenge of 2023, Tis The Season, please check out the Collection Profile Page here: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/TPFHolidayChallenge1223/profile Twilight Pack Fanatfics Admin Note: I'm attempting to make banners to post with all submissions - If authors wish to make their own, please contact me through FB messenger or via the TPF's Short Story Challenge email listed on the Collection Profile page. xo.

[sarcastic-nebula]

I am HERE for data scientist!reader. and Curl :D

Curl + Stubborn Reader

Curl is one of my medic OCs. He serves in the Wolfpack and is known for being short-tempered with stubborn patients. While Kix tries to reason with stubborn people and Limit guilt trips them, Curl meets fire with fire... and you made the mistake of striking a match.

Word Count: 5,500

Warnings: blood, slight injury, semi-realistic description of a battlefield, needles, a bit of language, and less-than-voluntary medical treatment.

---

The ground was smoking.

War was incredible. Ugly, of course, and painful more often than not, but it was incredible all the same. Some trick of the weaponized beams that had been fired into the wet ground had left thin tendrils of smoke spiraling up through the air. The result was eerie, especially as the rising sun filtered through the fog and the smoke, highlighting the violence of the sprawled bodies and dismantled droids.

It was your job to analyze what was left.

Really, your job was confined to what you could do onboard the ship. You were part of a group of intelligence officers who used your knowledge of mechanics and programming to recover whatever information you could from the droids that were shot down in battle.

Most of your coworkers ordered the troopers to bring them a specific droid that had fallen late in each battle, but you preferred to be more thorough. You insisted on observing the battles so you could track which droids were dismantled and when, along with whether a specific type of droid was more effective than it should be. Your fellow scientists thought you were unnecessarily risky and you privately believed they were complacent, bordering on lazy.

Studying the information you received hadn’t resulted in any Republic breakthroughs yet, but you were hopeful. As an odd side result, analyzing the droids in battle - along with the blaster marks they ended up with - had allowed you to predict their attack patterns with frightening accuracy. You were fairly sure that was the only reason you were allowed to follow the 104th Battalion onto the field.

That, along with the fact that General Koon seemed to find your insistence on helping his men in-person amusing.

Everything would have been fine if you hadn't been so stars-cursed clumsy. Every time you set foot on the battlefield, you managed to hurt yourself. They were all minor injuries - scrapes, cuts, bruises - but it was enough that the Wolfpack's medic haunted your every move.

Your relationship with said medic was complex. You liked Curl a lot - maybe too much. He was a good man and you liked to think you were friends. You had been battling a crush for a while, but it was hard to resist those feelings. Curl was funny and stubborn, providing treatment to the men of the 104th with good-natured dedication. And he was good at it. He had treated you often enough that you had formed a solid opinion of his skills as a medic. But still, you had your reasons for avoiding Curl after a skirmish.

As you walked through the carnage, searching for the droids you had marked for later collection, you glanced around. Curl was nowhere to be found, but that didn't mean anything. He had a nasty tendency to pop out of nowhere at the worst possible time.

Still, his gray-and-white armor, distinctive with the bright red medic's symbol emblazoned on his chest and back as well as his arm, hadn't made an appearance. The last time you had seen him, he had been treating a trooper on the other side of the general battlefield area. You would probably be safe to walk around unaccosted, but it never hurt to check.

You had targeted three droids in particular: the first was a B1 that had fallen early in the battle and had mostly managed to avoid being stepped on or shot after it had collapsed. You retrieved its head - and, by extension, the implanted memory chip - without incident.

The second droid was a commando droid. Getting the parts you needed was far trickier. Commando droids in general were more complex - it was what made them so dangerous. Really, it was a miracle that the 104th hadn't taken more casualties with commando droids on the field.

You had to literally carve a hole in the commando droid's chest to get to the memory chip. Putting the memory far from the central processing unit had been a clever move by the Separatist scientists. If a commando droid was only shot in the head and not the 'heart', any intel it carried could survive to be retrieved by the Separatists. Neither side had much use for that intelligence, but still. It was better to know what it had gathered than to be taken by surprise when something secret came to light.

As you withdrew the memory chip from the commando droid's chest, you bit back a hiss. You hadn't cut the hole wide enough, trying to save yourself a few seconds with the handheld saw. The sharp metal had scraped at your knuckles and the heel of your palm as you pulled away from the droid. You didn't look at the injury beyond making sure you weren't bleeding too badly.

First off, looking would only make it hurt worse. You weren't sure why, but that was how it always went. Injuries, especially the minor ones, always hurt worse after you saw the damage.

Second and more importantly, you didn't want to clue anyone in that you had hurt yourself. Not only would it call the wrath of Curl down on your head, but it also seemed ridiculous to complain about a scratched-up hand when there were troopers in much worse shape.

Your eyes fell on the twisted body of a trooper lying motionless on the ground. A stray blaster beam had caught his helmet, knocking it askew as he crumpled to the dirt. The hand-painted plastoid was angled high on his face now, giving you a glimpse of his slack mouth. You clenched your jaw as you turned away. Yes, there were troopers in much worse shape than you were. You wouldn’t let Curl waste vital time and resources on your tiny scrapes.

After depositing the commando head and memory chip in your bag, you marched over to the final droid you had marked for study. It was another B1, but it had fallen at the tail end of the battle, when the combat had been almost finished. It had outperformed a lot of more advanced droids, uncommon for a B1. There was a reason the troopers called them clankers, after all.

It was probably nothing, but a B1 surviving that long was unusual. You wouldn’t put it past the Separatists to put updated tech in older shells. A few droids that looked like B1s but had commando droid capabilities could cause serious damage to a battalion… and no one would even see it coming. With the right analysis technique, you could provide advanced warning and prevent countless casualties.

Speaking of advanced warning, purposeful movement caught your attention and you heaved a sigh. Curl was striding across the battlefield in your direction.

In the short span of time you had before he arrived, you knelt and removed the B1's head. It was shockingly heavy considering how flimsy the B1 droids looked, but you tucked it into your bag just as Curl walked up.

With your scraped-up hand still resting against the bag's folds, you glanced up at Curl, quirking your eyebrows as if you were surprised by his presence.

"Something I can do for you, Curl?"

Curl stopped, folding his arms over his chest with an odd clack of plastoid. "Are you really gonna make me say it?"

"Say what?" you breezed "You don't have to worry so much, Curl."

He paused for a moment and you bit back your excitement. If he believed you and didn't overreact, you could do one of several side observation projects you had been considering for quite some time. You were skeptical, but hopeful all the same.

"Okay, fine," Curl eventually relented. “Carry on.”

You beamed at him and started walking. Your foot hit a shallow dip in the ground and you adjusted your stride without a problem, but your bag began sliding from your shoulder and you reflexively straightened the strap.

Curl's hand lashed out with impressive speed, grabbing your wrist before you could dodge him. With a pull and a twist of his fingers, Curl raised your hand to eye level.

You made a face. As you had suspected, your knuckles were skinned. Several of them were sluggishly oozing blood down the length of your fingers. You suspected it should look worse, but the dirt on your skin was helping the wounds clot. The heel of your palm looked less violent, but it was visibly scratched. Blood had beaded up on the longest scrape, already forming a nice scab.

"You were saying?" Curl asked smugly.

You wanted to punch him, but he was still wearing his helmet. Also, your hand hurt. You knew you shouldn't have looked at it.

"What, can you smell blood or something?" you asked, whipping your hand away.

"Even better," Curl countered. "I can sense all injuries. I’m like a Jedi. So stop trying to kriffing hide them from me!"

“They’re scratches!” you reminded him defensively. “Nothing to be really worried about.”

“Lacerations deep enough to draw blood, introducing whatever contaminants are on your skin directly into your bloodstream,” he argued, pulling his helmet off to fix you with a stern glare. “Not even counting whatever may have been on those droids. We need to thoroughly disinfect your hand, and you’ll need some bacta. Probably a tetanus shot, just in case.”

“That’s going a bit far, isn’t it?” you asked. “Other than the tetanus shot, I could do all of that in my bunk. That’s what I did the other times I avoided the medbay.”

Curl frowned, the expression sitting oddly on his face. He spent so much time smiling and laughing. You were surprised his facial muscles even knew how to do anything else. “Cuts from metal are a big deal. If these were a little deeper, you could need stitches. You could have even seen permanent damage to your nerves.”

You leveled a stare in his direction. “That’s a medical fallacy. That’s like saying that, if I had crushed my finger just a little bit worse, I could have lost it.”

He caught at your hand again, studying your fingers with a frown. “You crushed your finger? Which one?”

Jerking your hand away, you scowled sharply. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” he insisted. “You need to let me treat your hand. That’s what it comes down to.”

“I will let you treat my hand,” you agreed, trying not to smile at the way Curl’s head tilted disbelievingly. “But only after I finish my work here and you finish treating the men who have real injuries.”

“I’ve already stabilized the men who need it and most of them are being transported to a medical station in the next system,” Curl explained. “The medical droids have started treating the ones who are left. I’ll take over their treatment when I get there, but nothing gets done until you show up at the medbay.”

“I’ll be in the medbay,” you assured. “Just give me a few hours to gather data and start running the computations-”

“Commander, it’s happening again,” Curl reported, amber eyes sliding past you.

You turned to find Commander Wolffe standing there. The commander had clearly been walking past before Curl had stopped him, probably on his way to do something important.

“Really?” you asked Curl, eyebrows creeping up your forehead. “You’re tattling on me to the commander?”

“Absolutely,” Curl affirmed, no remorse in his tone at all.

Wolffe heaved a sigh as his helmet turned slightly in your direction. “Will you agree to go to the medbay for treatment?”

“Of course, but the main argument is about a time frame,” you said.

“If it’s such a small injury, treatment won’t take long,” Curl wheedled. Whether he was trying to convince you or the commander, you weren’t really sure.

Wolffe shook his head. “I don’t have authority over civilians who happen to be attached to my company. It’s not my business to tell you to get yourself looked over.”

You beamed at him, glancing triumphantly at Curl as you did. He seemed undeterred. “It may not be your business, sir, but it is mine. I am the final authority on the health of everyone who comes along on our missions, trooper or civilian. Permission to implement the new procedure?”

“Granted,” Wolffe eventually agreed with a nod and Curl stepped closer to you, as if he were going to herd you toward the medbay.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, ready for the argument to end already. “Curl, I really do have a lot of work to finish up here. The sooner this ends, the sooner I can get to the-”

Without any warning, Curl stooped and bodily lifted you up, tossing you over his shoulder before you could do anything more than give a particularly alarmed squawk.

You were blinking at the battlefield from your new place over Curl’s shoulder. Wolffe’s helmet was fixed on your shocked face and you could almost swear the angle of the painted plastoid felt pitiless as he said, “You brought this on yourself.”

“Commander! Please just-” Wolffe had walked away before you could ask him to make Curl put you down. You changed tactics as Curl started walking. “Curl, seriously, I appreciate the concern, but I can’t leave yet! I have a job to-”

Curl cut you off by giving a small bounce. The thin, flexible armor you wore on the battlefield protected you from the worst of it, but Curl’s plastoid-covered shoulder still pressed into your soft stomach. The impact - gentle as it was - shoved the air out of your lungs and cut off your protests.

“Too bad,” Curl said bluntly. “I’ve run out of nice medic juice, so you’ll just have to deal with the consequences.”

He didn’t bounce you again, but Curl got revenge in more subtle ways as you walked back to the Solidarity. He made sure to pass closely by every group of troopers he saw, and the teasing comments thrown through helmet speakers were matched only by the grins from helmetless troopers. When you tried to squirm out of his grip, Curl tickled you behind your right knee - a weakness he had accidentally discovered during a previous treatment.

None of this was to suggest that you were quietly letting him treat you like a bag of rations. No, you spent the first half of the walk trying to convince and bribe him. Then, when that didn’t work, you resorted to increasingly ridiculous threats. He seemed unconcerned.

Your feet didn’t touch the ground again until after you had reached the medbay. When Curl set you down, you could see how smugly amused he looked, but his brows flattened into a threatening line. “If you even look at the doors, I will restrain you.”

It was a little harder for you to concentrate when you were looking directly at Curl’s face rather than staring at the battlefield over his shoulder while he spoke. He had the same darkly good looks that every other trooper shared, but his full lips were always stretched in a grin to display his white teeth. He had two thin scars running down and across his chin, the parallel diagonals a few shades lighter than the rest of his skin. His hair was short enough to fit under a helmet with no trouble, but long enough to encourage the frothing waves the troopers had inherited from Jango Fett.

You lifted a brow at him - tearing your attention from his handsome face to his irritating actions - but your doubting expression fell as he pointedly withdrew a pair of magnetic binders from his medical pouch. He was standing squarely between you and the door to the medbay, looming large and broad in his gray-accented plastoid armor. You may have been able to get around him, but it would be almost impossible. Besides, troopers had been literally engineered for speed and strength. Odds were good he would catch you before you got more than five steps from your current place.

You had been outmaneuvered and it made you feel frustrated, grumpy… trapped. Before you could think better of it, you pulled back a hand. Despite the twinge across your knuckles, you automatically folded your fingers into a fist.

Far from looking concerned, Curl laughed at you. "Go ahead, civvie. Give me a reason to think you have a broken hand. I'll make you stay for observation, don't test me."

Though your hand was itching with the need to hit him, you dropped your fist and took a deep breath. "Let's get this over with."

And you had thought you liked him? You couldn't stand him!

Or, at least, that's what you tried to convince yourself as Curl began treating your injuries. He had steered you toward a bed in the back of the medbay. Several other beds were occupied, each one holding a trooper who was far more injured than you were. The Solidarity’s two medical droids were providing minor treatments, but there were more men than droids, and your arrival had been witnessed by several troopers ranging from curious to amused.

The bed was thin and covered by a rough, GAR-issued blanket. You plopped down on top of it, holding your hand in front of your chest to avoid smearing blood and dirt on your clothing. He took his time gathering the necessary supplies, but made his way to your bed eventually.

“Mind if I sit?” he asked after he had placed the materials in a neat pile on the table that sat by every bed.

You shrugged. “It’s your medbay.”

“Remember that,” Curl said sternly, pointing at you. “No crazy escape attempts.”

“Little late for that,” you muttered. The damage had been done.

“What does that mean?” he asked, busy beginning the disinfection process on your hand. “Why work so hard to avoid treatment?”

“I’m not avoiding being treated, I just-” you cut yourself off with a hiss as he dabbed at the cuts across your knuckles. “I have reasons to put off coming here.”

“Yeah? And they are?”

“Personal ones,” you snapped, pain making you irritable.

Rather than replying with anger of his own, Curl hummed understandingly. “That hurt, huh? I’m sorry. You’re doing great so far.”

“Don’t patronize me.”

Curl glanced up to meet your eyes for a moment, brows lifted. “I’m not, actually. You’ve been here often enough to know my bedside manner.”

“I saw you reset a dislocated bone during the battle earlier, then send the trooper out to keep fighting,” you told him, childishly furious that he had read you so easily. “I’m sure I’m really impressing you, managing not to cry over some busted knuckles.”

Your sarcasm didn’t seem to affect him as strongly as you had intended. Curl only shrugged. “Hey, pain is pain. Small injuries hurt, too, just in a different way. Is there any chance you’ll stay here long enough for me to see if your knuckles are going to need stitches?”

“I’d really rather not.” You watched while he slathered a layer of bacta onto your knuckles and began wrapping them in bandages that wouldn’t cling to any scabs that formed.

“I didn’t think you would,” Curl acknowledged, sighing a bit as he applied a layer of bacta to the scrape on the heel of your hand. After he set aside the bacta cup and the swab he had used to apply it, he picked up a flimsiplast cup from the table and handed it to you.

You accepted the cup, glancing at it to find a small white pill inside. “What is this?”

“An oral antibiotic,” he replied, keeping his attention on your hand. His brown eyes were serious, working to assess your injuries on the deadline you had given him.

Suddenly, you felt guilty for your behavior. Curl was a true healer, working to keep everyone in the 104th safe. It wasn’t his fault that you were such a pain. Rather than argue, you just tipped the pill into your mouth and washed it down with a flimsiplast cup filled with water. As soon as you had swallowed the pill, Curl’s shoulders began to creep down and away from his ears. You felt even worse.

Before you could offer an apology, Curl finished bandaging your hand and gave the uninjured part of your palm a gentle pat. “You’re just about done. Let me give you a quick tetanus shot and you’ll be free to go.”

He wandered off to get the shot. Still riding the wave of guilt, you sat patiently as long as you were able, but you began to get fidgety after almost five minutes had passed. When Curl drifted back past your bed, occasionally glancing in cabinets as he made his way back to the front of the medbay, you walked over to him.

“Curl, I really am in a hurry,” you said, trying to put as much regret into your tone as you were capable of doing. “Is the tetanus shot really necessary?”

He sent a stern look your way. “According to your medical records, your last tetanus booster was seven years ago. Yes, a shot is really necessary. Besides, I found it.”

Curl held up a small vial and a syringe, but he made you go all the way back to your bed before he would continue. The medic swabbed your upper arm, prepared the syringe, and administered the shot. You studiously looked away from the needle during most of the process.

“Aww, c’mon,” Curl teased as he smoothed a bandage over the injection site. “No civvie who’s brave enough to run around with the Wolfpack can be scared of needles.”

“Try me,” you told him flatly. “Anyway, can I go?”

The smile faded from Curl’s face. “I really should keep you under observation for a few minutes, make sure you don’t have some kind of reaction to the shot.”

“I’ve had it before, unless there’s something special in this one?” Curl shook his head and you hopped down from your perch on the bed. “Then we know I don’t have a reaction to it. I’ll be going.”

You rushed out of the medbay, but paused in the hallway just outside. Curl had called your name and you glanced back before you could stop yourself.

He had followed you out of the medbay, allowing the door to close behind him. In the small bubble of silent privacy, Curl asked, “Why do you put so much effort into avoiding the medbay? If it’s something I said or did…”

“No,” you refused immediately, face hot with shame. “You didn’t do anything, Curl. My reasons have nothing to do with you.”

“Then why?” he pressed. “I can help you. At least, I can try.”

You sighed, your head swimming with the mingling of his guilt and your own. “Regulation 189.12, subsection 47-e.”

Curl’s eyes showed a flash of recognition, followed by confusion. “How does that impact you?”

“Well, you’re required to treat nat-born citizens of the Republic before clone troopers, regardless of the severity of anyone’s injuries. My injuries are never that bad, so I don’t come here until I know that all troopers have been fully treated.”

“But no one actually follows that regulation,” Curl pointed out.

“Maybe not,” you conceded. “But I never want to put you in a place where you have to break a rule to save one of the men's lives. I won’t do that, not to them and not to you.”

“So you were being noble, not stubborn,” Curl summarized, the worry clearing from his handsome face. “You were trying to help.”

“Yeah, I was,” you said with a nod. That nod made the ship lurch awkwardly, though you knew for a fact that you weren’t set to depart from the planet yet. You tried to press your uninjured hand to your head, but that hand seemed a lot further away than it should have.

“Are you-”

You interrupted Curl before he could fully form the question. “I think I might need to stay after all. I feel really…” Your knees buckled and the ground came hurtling upward, rushing toward your face.

Curl caught you before you could actually make contact, swinging you easily into his arms. You stared up into his face, utterly confused by his wry smile. “I really wish you had told me your reasons before I sedated you.”

“You wha-?”

And that’s the last thing you remembered before everything went dark.

The first thing that came back was feeling. The sensation of lying flat on your back, an unpleasantly firm pillow supporting your neck and head, a thin blanket covering you from the shoulders down.

Warm fingers pressed against the pulse point on your wrist and your eyes flew open. At least, that’s what you wanted them to do. Your body didn’t seem to be taking cues as well as it should have been and your lashes gradually fluttered upward until you were blinking at Curl’s familiar face.

For once, his mouth wasn’t smiling. Instead, it was twisted into an expression of penitent guilt. His brown eyes were fixed on yours, dark with hesitation.

“Hey,” he greeted, voice pitched low and soothing. “How are you feeling?”

Curl was lucky you weren’t feeling your best, because the fist you launched into the side of his face would have hurt a lot more than it did. You may be a scientist, but you knew how to throw a punch. Granted, lying flat on your back didn’t give you the best angle to work with. Besides, you felt a bit like the Solidarity had landed on you at the moment.

“Yeah, that’s fair,” Curl accepted, lifting his hand to touch his cheekbone.

“Why the fuck would you think sedating me was a good idea?” you demanded. The words were as angry as you were, but your uncooperative voice slurred them out so uncertainly that you sounded legitimately curious. And a little drunk.

“It was for your own good,” he had the audacity to say.

You struggled to sit up, but that only made your entire body hurt. You hesitated halfway between lying and sitting, trying to decide whether the motion would be worth it.

Curl’s hand pressed to your shoulder, supporting you a bit while you made the choice. You wanted to sit up. He helped you and it made you mad. The instant you were upright, you slapped his hand away.

“Easy,” he soothed. “You’ve probably got a wicked headache, right?”

You did, but you weren’t going to admit that to him. Apparently, though, your silence was enough of an answer for him.

Curl turned and started walking toward the rest of the medbay. “Hang on. I’ll give you something to take some of the pain away.”

“Save it,” you snapped. “I’m not going to trust anything you try to give me.”

Curl spun back around to look at you, hurt filling his expression, but you fought against the surge of guilt. “That pill wasn’t an antibiotic. It was some kind of sedative. A tetanus shot is an antibiotic. I should have known better than to think you would double up on them.”

“You…” Curl trailed off, frowning at you. “You know medicine?”

“No, but I’m not an idiot,” you huffed, crossing your arms. “I can’t believe I fell for that.”

“To be fair, you were very hard to trick,” Curl said, the ghost of a smile flitting across his face. You stared back at him stonily, not ready in the least to be amused by the situation. “Would it make it better if I said I’m sorry?”

“Depends. Would you mean it if you said it?”

You were honestly surprised when Curl nodded without a moment of hesitation. “Absolutely.”

“Well, then why did you do it?” you asked.

“I- It’s a little… Can I sit?” You seriously thought about saying no, telling him that it hadn’t worked out well for you the last time, but that seemed cruel. Instead, you gave a tight nod and shifted your legs to give him room.

“No, no, don’t move,” Curl instructed, looping an arm around your knees to keep your legs close to him. The muscle of your calf pressed into his hip and he absently left his arm stretched across your legs. The weight and heat of his arm were comforting, no matter how angry you were at him.

When Curl finally spoke, the words fell quickly from his lips. “I didn’t know why you avoided the medbay. I thought you were just being stubborn, trying to be a hero. I didn’t know you had a reason for it. You aren’t exactly easy to read, you know?”

He paused to smile at you. You hadn’t know that, actually, but it was good. It meant that your crush on the medic may not be as obvious as you had been worried it was.

You cleared your throat and tried to look stern. “Isn’t this supposed to be an apology?”

“It was, but…” Curl gave a half shrug. “I realized I’m not actually very sorry. I used the information I had to create a course of action for a patient. I may not have had all of the information, but I stand by my choice.”

With a droll stare, you gestured at yourself in the bed. “Clearly the right choice.”

“In my eyes, it was,” Curl told you. “But from now on, I want to assess your injuries and I’ll give you a time to report to the medbay. No more avoiding, no more running to your bunk for secret self-treating. Deal?”

You considered it for a moment and stuck out your hand to be shaken. “Deal.”

Curl stared at your hand, studying the bandages on it. Eventually, he pressed on your wrist until you lowered it back to the bed. “You’ll need to stay here for another hour or two until the sedative is out of your system. May as well get some rest in that time.”

He slid off the bed and started to walk away, but one of the men in a bed further down the row turned onto his side, calling to him, “Wait, you forgot to mention what happened when-”

“Shut up, Budge,” Curl ordered, his shoulders visibly tightening.

“Curl,” you warned. He obeyed your unspoken demand and came back to your bedside. “What’s Budge talking about?”

“You, uh… Did you know that you- you talk in your sleep?” Curl asked, eyes meeting yours and sliding away over and over as he spoke.

Your face was on fire. “Yeah, I occasionally talk in my sleep. What did I say?”

“My name,” Curl said quickly, still avoiding your eyes. “A few times.”

“Yeah, I was probably pissed at you, even when I was asleep,” you defended. You hoped this would be the end of it, but your hopes were not high.

And they sank even further when Budge said, “You didn’t sound angry to me! In fact, you sounded-”

“Shut up, Budge!” This time, you joined Curl in discouraging the injured trooper, but you didn’t feel too guilty. The troopers around Budge were cheering him on, throwing more encouragement his way.

Curl looked as thrown off as you felt. You touched him gently on the arm. “Hey, I’m sorry for embarrassing you, Curl.”

His eyes flew to yours as his eyebrows shot up. “Embarrassed? Me? I was worried you were embarrassed!”

“I was drugged,” you clarified. “I’m not going to get shy about something as small and stupid as muttering your name.”

Curl’s serious expression spread into a wicked smirk. “Then let’s really blow their minds. Lie back down.”

You searched his eyes, but ended up doing as he asked. As soon as your head hit the pillow, he loudly announced, “Okay, stay there. I’ll get something to help with your headache.”

Before you could react, he tucked the covers under either side of your hips and bent down to press a kiss onto your forehead. Your breath shuddered out at the unexpected contact. Halfway through the casual show of affection, he paused and pulled his face down until your noses brushed together.

Curl stared into your eyes from inches away, searching them as thoroughly as you had done to him a moment before. Whatever he saw there must have been what he was looking for, because he moved downward just as you surged up to meet his lips with your own.

You and Curl only broke apart when the cheering from the troopers got too loud to ignore.

“That was nice,” Curl whispered.

You grinned. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

“You, too?” he asked with an answering grin.

“Uh, excuse me, mister medic, sir?” one of the troopers asked, putting on a nasally voice as he tried to get Curl’s attention. “If I bat my pretty eyes and say please really nicely, will you tuck me in? And could I get a forehead kiss, too?”

“I always knew you had a thing for me, Knoll,” Curl snarked, stepping away from your bed with a last reluctant pat on the thin mattress.

You snuggled under the sheet and watched Curl verbally spar with his brothers. You thought you mostly managed to hide your smile under the covers, but - if you were as obvious as Curl - everyone saw anyway.

Maybe after you slept a bit longer, you would care about that.

---

A/N - OBVIOUSLY, none of this is intended to be realistic treatment descriptions, much less medical advice. Please, please, PLEASE see a doctor for any medical concerns.

I hope you guys enjoyed learning more about Curl, no matter how overbearing he can be! Find other works on my masterlist or request a fic!

[starry-bi-sky]

finally giving fem danyal her own au and fulfilling my 'danny is an animal whisperer' agenda at the same time: mother of monsters danyal 2.0

i say "2.0" because TECHNICALLY 'mother of monsters danyal' is an au I made back in June for Dark fem!Danyal (who I promptly named Layal). However, I haven't posted much for her yet, and I like the "mother of monsters" premise too much to leave it only to Layal. Plus Danyal in that au was going to become the mother of monsters anyway, just with significantly less world domination and mass extinction.

'Animal whisperer' Danny has been something I've been thinking about since my latest DP 'wolfpack au' post and it's! So fun to think about, and who no better to assign the idea to than Danyal Al Ghul? Who comes from a family infamously known for their love of animals and nature?

Fem Danyal is just purely self-indulgent. *gestures wildly at her* i just lomvb,,, her,,,, I've only really mentioned her in context of the 'Things in Threes' au/my first Danyal al Ghul au with the facial scar, but she's!!! I love her. She deserves her own au <33

So kill three birds with one stone! Make a post about it.

Anyways, Danny has a large lair. Similar to cult leader danyal, her lair is a giant mountain region resembling nanda parbat with a big temple/palace-like area built into the mountain. It's large, it's overflowing with natural flora, with its own mini-floating islands hovering over some areas, and it's also completely empty.

Danny takes one look at her lair upon first meeting, -- noting that it looked relatively smaller from the outside -- and promptly, with the elegance of an Al Ghul, goes "What the hell??" Because yes, while she does enjoy her own solitude and privacy, this is a bit ridiculous.

For heaven's sake, there's even a massive lake in there! What's she going to do with all this space? Can she make it any smaller? Why is it so big in the first place? This looks borderline like one of the mega-islands!

She finds out later that apparently, the amount of ectoplasm a ghost has can have an effect on the size of their lair. And since she has such a large core, her lair reflects that. Wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey stuff, it's bigger on the inside so it doesn't take up "too much space" on the outside. Don't worry about it too much.

Danyal isn't totally opposed to having such a large lair, she's just... a bit baffled by it. It feels like so much wasted space is all. All this flora and no fauna to enjoy it with. It's practically eerie.

She decorates her temple-palace area, transforming rooms to match her needs as she sees fit. In the center of the inner gardens is a massive tree that she likes to climb, with twisting, winding branches. Sam and Tucker have honorary rooms, even if they can't safely leave the specter speeder for long periods of time, even with proper safety equipment. So does Jazz. Ali (Dani) has one too, but he can actually use that one, and Danny brought him to her lair so he could decorate it himself.

She has a personal garden, but for the most part she lets the flora exist as it is. Too much space to cultivate it en masse anyways.

Skip to a few weeks later, on her next visit to Clockwork. She developed a habit of going to see him semi-regularly just because. She enjoys his wisdom, and he has a lot of stories to tell, and when he's not being the cryptic and esoteric timekeeper, he's a bit goofy.

(pushing my dadwork agenda here,,, i think Danny deserves to go 'hey, Lord Clockwork, do you want me to buy you something' while she's at walmart, only to receive a singular glowing sticky note that says 'cucumber gatorade'.)

(She insists on referring to him with his proper titles even for the most mundane of things because it's proper, but Clockwork sees a future where she eventually calls him "Cee" and by all things in existence is he determined to get there. Anyways,,,)

On her next visit to Clockwork, just as she is about to leave, Clockwork stops her and goes; "Ah, I have something for you. Hold out your hands."

Danny does as such, and Clockwork doesn't give out things often, so her curiosity has spiked to the highest levels. He turns away from her for a moment, using his staff to summon whatever it is he needs, and when he turns around.

He drops a fish into her hands. Granted, a fish in a small glass tank. But a fish nonetheless. A small one, roughly about the size of her finger, with a blue-black, eel-shaped body and four sets of glowing eyes. She can see thin, almost translucent, but spiny fins down its back and the start of bioluminescent markings. It's swimming around in circles in its small container.

"Lord Clockwork." Danyal says all too calmly.

"Yes, Danyal?"

"What is this?"

"That is an adolescent leviathan, Danyal." She’s transfixed onto the tank, but she doesn’t need to see Clockwork’s face to hear the smile he’s stifling.

The myriad of emotions that runs through her all at once threatens to overwhelm her, and she can’t tell if the feelings are negative or positive. So she carefully closes her eyes to breathe in through her nose.

“Clockwork.”

“Ah, I see you’ve dropped formalities.”

She ignores that.

“Why have you given me an adolescent leviathan?”

She's expecting the trickster to look amused when she opens her eyes. Instead, he just looks endeared. "I know you're fond of animals," he says, "and you always look amazed when you come across an animal of the realms. So I thought you might enjoy taking care of the young beast, it's mother is dead so it has no one to care for it."

Oh.

"But, if you don't like it," Clockwork's hands reach out for the tank, "I can simply take it back--"

Danyal shifts the tank out from his reach and hugs it possessively. "I never said that. How do I care for it?"

And so clockwork gives her a list, and when Danyal returns to her lair, she sets up a large tank in her room for the leviathan to swim in -- it's much too small for the lake right now, she thinks. She'll feel better if it's somewhere she can find it. She names him Suhā.

Suhā grows quickly, and by the end of the mortal month she transforms one of the rooms into a large pond for him to swim around in. He's a very loyal beast, recognizing her as it's mother of some kind. Danyal takes great care ensuring that her beastie gets quality care, and Suhā swims to the surface to see her when he senses her in the room.

It spirals from there. Somehow, Pandora catches wind that Clockwork gave her a leviathan, and so the next time Danyal visits the Greater Athens, she gives her a baby chimera. It's eyes are still sealed shut, Danyal can't bring herself to say no. She names the little beastie Firas.

Frostbite hears about it too, and not to be outdone, gives her an animal she's never even heard of. Infinite-realms born, apparently. A fox-like creature with two small horns like an impala, four eyes, and tall legs. The name isn't something she's quite sure how to write down, and she's positive that her friends won't be able to comprehend it. She names her Eira.

Getting the three of them used to each other was... interesting. Suhā tried to eat Firas when Danyal first introduced the two, and they've hated each other ever since. Firas and Eira are seemingly getting along. Her island already feels full enough with the three of them on it.

Of course, that's not the end of it. With her luck, she begins stumbling across other monsters. Realms-borne or otherwise. An injured hydra in the Grecian islands that, through lots of trial and error, Danyal is able to rehabilitate and heal. It routinely comes to visit her afterwards.

A griffin with a broken wing that she moves permanently to the island that likes to keep to itself, but tends to come down when she's near. It gets along best with Firas.

A panther-like monster from the Shades Woods that had six legs and three tails, with ends that reminded her of a venus flytrap. It stuck around the heavy foliage and she can only make out where it was when she saw its golden eyes reflect.

She befriends a young indrik with its leg injured, and much like the hydra it follows her back to her island, and stays there in the mountains. It comes out when she's alone, much like her other beasts.

She receives two more leviathan -- one from clockwork, and one she finds herself while exploring the deeper and darker recesses of the Ghost Zone. It was huddled against the carcass of its mother, and she managed to befriend and get close enough to it to bring it back to her island. Suhā is fully grown by then, with a head bigger than Danyal herself and he still likes to stick her head out of the water for nuzzles when she's near.

He's not very happy with his new siblings, but he's not trying to eat them when she's not looking. So she calls it a win in her book.

And it's not just large beasts either; smaller animals begin popping up when she's not looking. Bird-like creatures and small mammals, and she swears she saw a doe (or something resembling a doe) grazing in the forest while she was walking by.

She takes back with her a lone snake egg once, and it grows so big it wraps around her island and sleeps with its massive head on the mountain beside the temple, like some smaller breed of Jörmungandr.

And on and on it goes. Some of the beasts she comes across never step foot onto her island, some of them follow her back, while others she has to carry back. Not all of the ones that follow her stay, and Danny rehabilitates the injured and releases them when they're fully healed.

It's hectic, and busy, and frankly she loves it. Some of her rehabilitated beasts return to visit her, or to have their children somewhere on the island, or whatever it is they need to do.

She becomes a bit infamous for it. She goes to visit Dorathea once, and as she's walking through the streets she can hear some of the denizens whispering while she walks past.

"Is that her?"

"Her highness' friend? Yes--"

"--that's the one--"

"--Mother of monsters--"

Danny's not sure how to feel about that.

Although, she can't say she's opposed.

Danyal Al Ghul, Mother of monsters, raiser of beasts. It has a nice ring to it.

[trumpkinhotboy]

Fight, fight, fight!

Pairing: reader x twilight wolfpack

Type: requested (thank youu)

Warnings: mentions of a fight, but nothing graphic

Word count: approx 1k

A/n: loved writing this little scenario, i'm maybe... even tempted to write a part 2 if that's something you guys would be interested in and also pls don't hate me i promise 'I'll keep an eye on you' pt.3 is coming!!! I've just had so many other things to work on, but I PROMISE IT'S COMING BABES anyway, hope you'll enjoy xxx

You were not a violent person. In fact, you hated any kind of physical confrontation and considered yourself a pacifist. You always were one to stay calm and walk away whenever someone tried to get under your skin.

You never thought the drive to protect others would make you go feral, but you discovered it the day someone endangered someone you love.

It was stupid. The classic, popular high school kids gave other students a hard time. When they nagged as you walked by, you did as always: royally ignored them. Honestly, their words didn't even filter through your brain. You knew they didn't have anything important or original to say anyway.

But suddenly, their lousy comments started filtering in. Confused, you turned around to understand they weren't talking to you but to your friend. You could see how she slumped her shoulders and tried to disappear into the ground as they circled her. Your heart started beating faster, your blood boiled in your veins, and unconsciously, you clenched your fists until you felt a slicing pain in your palm.

The comments and nagging continued until you planted yourself in front of them, shielding your friend from their eyes. They sized you up, laughing at your attempt at bravery. While you weren't looking, one of them pushed your friend on you, hopping to make you tumble down pathetically, but something got ahold of your blood, of your every muscle, and very soul. This ever-growing feeling and instinct to protect yourself and the ones you loved took over. That's probably how you ducked so fast, pushed your friend out of harm's way, and swung your fist as hard as you could.

"I can't believe you would ever get in a fight!" said Emily for the third time.

You stared at the ground as she hurried around the kitchen, grabbing supplies to wipe the blood from your nose and split lip. You didn't say anything, and neither did the boys.

You hadn't said anything since they forced you out of the crowd before you injured one of the bullies too seriously.

Emily kept blabbering about violence and how fighting was never the solution while she grabbed a bag of frozen peas. She stomped to you, dropping it in your hands as she asked. "Don't you have anything to say for yourself?"

You leveled your gaze to hers, looked at the group around you, and only said, "They deserved it."

She let out a frustrated sigh, confused and frustrated with your attitude. You were a good kid, had always been. She knew there must have been a good explanation for why you did what you did.

You hoped she would finally give up the lecture and leave you alone, but when Sam entered the room, you knew you were still in for a while. His dark stare communicated much more than his words ever could. Sam was your cousin, but he also was your legal guardian ever since your parents died. You grew up with him, and he had become the most important parental figure in your life. He walked over to you with deadly calm, making all the other boys thankful not to be at the receiving end of his anger.

He grabbed a chair and sat right in front of you. "Why?"

"They deserved it," was all you answered once again. "You will have to do better than that if you don't want to be grounded for the rest of your life." You leveled him a look, and he noticed there was something there, something different. "Y/n, what happened?"

The same light of uncertainty and fear shone in your eyes. "I don't know," you finally whispered. "I don't know what happened. One minute, I was walking away from them, carrying on with my day as I always do. The other, I was in their face, feeling this rage gnawing at me."

Complete silence.

"Do you know what made you feel that way?" softly asked your cousin. The angry look had left his eyes, replaced with the soft and compassionate one he only let a few people see.

"I'm not sure, but I know once I heard them talking shit about my friend and saw how scared she was… I just wanted to protect her. One of them tried pushing us from behind, and I have no idea how, but I managed to duck, push Leila away, and punch him right in the face in the span of a second," you stared at them all, the shock and confusion in their face. "But the worst was that once I started punching, I didn't have to think about my moves… They all came naturally. There was this thing inside of me just repeating I needed to protect, and so I did. I honestly have no idea when I would have stopped if they hadn't stepped in." You finished with a grateful look at your friends.

Sam stayed dead silent, lost in thought. Unsure whether what you were telling him meant what he thought it did. This was all going too fast. He couldn't, wouldn't tell you about this right now. He would need to discuss with the rest of the pack and see what they thought before making any more moves.

You could cut the tension in the room with a knife. Even Emily, always so joyful, seemed lost in an inner world of only her knowing. You looked around at the people surrounding you, your gaze jumping from one to the other, trying to find answers in their eyes.

Until Jake broke the loaded silence, "Then I guess you were right. They did deserve it."

The smile slowly lightening up your features made them all breathe a little easier. "Now come on, put those frozen peas on your eye before it turns all blue and mushy. We wouldn't want to be deprived of the sight of your beautiful face, uh?" he said while walking to you with his signature grin.

Sam gave him a quick thankful look before looking at the other members of his pack, wondering how on earth they would deal with this.

[volterran-wine]

“These violent delights have violent ends” ― William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞: Nathalie

𝐀𝐠𝐞: 29

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐬: She/Her

𝐎𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: Graphic Designer // Professional Dumpster fire

𝐅𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐕𝐨𝐥𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢: All of them at this point.

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬: Art, Literature, History, Mythology, Film, Design, Wine

𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬: entj, virgo sun, libra moon, libra rising, chaotic neutral, 8w7,

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐠: @rebelienne

Volterran-Wine got into Twilight many years ago, sparkly vampires now live rent-free in her head 24/7. Is still mildly traumatised from watching Aro tear Carlisle’s head off on the big screen with 100 other teenage girls + her one guy friend who went along to this movie for the heck of it. Will forever curse who ever hated Jamie Campbell Bower in the hair and makeup department, Caius deserved better. Strives to write all these characters with some three dimensional personalities and has elected to embelish the heck out of the Volturi.

Canon is expanded upon and thrown to the wind when she sees fit.

𝐓𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝; The Volturi Mom, The Volturi Wine Aunt, The Vampire Anthropologist, The Ritzy Professor. The Archivist.

Questions for The Author tag

𝗙𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗔𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿 Updates • Playing tag with the Wolfpack • Queue for Heidis Tour • Other peoples amazing work • Interest Checks • Nathalie Brain Rot

[reader6898]

The Wolfpack Queen

Pairing: OC Talia x Commander Wolffe

Series Summary: Talia joins the Wolfpack as their new medic. Wolffe doesn't understand stand why everyone likes her. What happens when opposites attract? Sparks will fly between two people who didn't know they needed one another

Series Rating: 18+ (no minors allowed), violence, assault and attempted assault (not descriptive), slavery and mentions of slavery, mentions of prostitution (not descriptive), ptsd, slow burn, angst, eventual smut

Additional tags: future chapters will have chapter warnings because both Wolffe and Talia go through it 😭

Chapter summary: Talia joins the Wolfpack as their new medic

Chapter 1

There it was. The Triumphant. You looked at it for a moment before getting on and headed straight for the medbay. After their old ship had gotten attacked and blown up with only the general and three clones surviving, the 104th had to start all over. You had felt bad for them so when you heard that they were looking for another medic to join their batallion you took a leap of faith. Now here you stood in the brand new medbay looking at all the shiny new equipment that the republic had provided for you and whoever you would be working with. You looked around at everything and all of it made you excited to be here. After everything you've been through finally led you here. You deserve it. You were looking at one of the pieces of equipment when a clone came into the room. "Excuse me ma'am?" You turned around as he had startled you a little bit and you quickly composed yourself. "I'm sorry. I didn't hear you come in." The clone put down the supplies he was holding and walked up to you. The clone had pink hair and a nose piercing that you were sure made him stand out. Then again many clones changed things up once they left Kamino. "Civilians aren't allowed in here." You stood your ground as he stood in front of you. "I'm your new medic actually. I just wanted to look around." The clone looked surprised. He obviously wasn't expecting someone like you. "Ah. My apologies. I just wasn't expecting a..um." "a woman?" The clone rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. "Yeah. Sorry." Now you were embarrassed and started to feel insecure. He quickly realized what he was doing and started to apologize. "I'm sorry if I'm making you uncomfortable. I knew I was getting another medic. I just didn't know it would be a female medic. But, I'm glad you're here. This battalion could use a feminine touch. And I'm sure once you meet them the others will like you too." You felt a little better at his words but you were still a little embarrassed. "I'm..sure I'll like them too. Umm..do you by chance know where the barracks are? I just wanted to drop my things off and get settled." "Right. Of course. I can actually show you where they are. And here. Let me take that for you." He points to your bag and you hand it over to him. "Thanks…" "Jax." "Jax. That's a nice name." "Thanks. Come on. I'll show you where you'll be staying."

On the way to your quarters Jax showed you around and explained what the 104th does. "So basically we perform relief and recovery missions. We go in after a battle or disaster and we help the locals get back on their feet. We provide food, clothing, medical aid and whatever else they need. It's nothing special really." "So we won't be fighting or anything?" "For the most part. But if another battalion needs assistance and no one else is available then the republic sends us." “Right. Sounds easy enough.” As the both of you continued walking you ran into general Plo Koon. Jax stood at attention and saluted him while you stood by. “Sir.” “At ease, Jax.” Jax relaxes but stands just a little bit straighter. The Kel Dor spots you next to Jax and you become a little nervous. One: this the general and you weren’t sure if you should address him or not, Two: you’ve never seen a Kel Dor before but you have read about them, and three: you hated when people stared at you. Especially when it’s someone you don’t know. Being a jedi he must’ve sensed your uneasiness because he gave you a reassuring look. “It’s okay, little one. There’s no need to feel afraid or nervous around me.” You cleared your throat before speaking. “I’m sorry, general.” “There’s no need to apologize. Might I ask for your name?” “I-it’s T-Taila, sir.” You silently cursed yourself. You really had no need to be nervous of the jedi but you just couldn’t help it. Your past has made you very wary of new people. If he had sensed that you were becoming more uneasy he didn’t mention it. “It’s very nice to meet you, Talia.” Thalia gathered up her courage and acknowledged the general. “It’s nice to meet you too, sir.” The Kel Dor turned back to Jax. “Were you showing her where she’ll be staying?” “Yes, sir.” “If I may, I'll take her there.” “Yes, sir.” Jax saluted once more then handed you your bag and went back to the medbay as you followed the Kel Dor. The both of you stayed silent as you walked to where the civilian quarters were and you were honestly thankful for it. You reached a room and you stopped in front of it. “Here you are.” Plo Koon opened up the door and you stepped inside. You quickly looked around then turned to the jedi. “I don’t understand? Shouldn’t I be with the others?” “My dear, you are the only woman on this ship and you deserve to have your privacy. This is your room. Do with it what you please.” “T-thank you, sir.” “You are quite welcome, little one. I’ll leave you to get settled.” As soon as he left you turned back around and looked at your room. It had a simple bed, a desk for you to work at, and a private fresher. It wasn’t much but then again you didn’t need anything fancy. You set your bag down on the floor by your desk and plopped down onto the bed. This was your life now. You would be assisting in helping people who have gone through a traumatic experience get back on their feet and quite frankly you wouldn’t have it any other way. You lied down as exhaustion caught up to you and before you knew it you were fast asleep.

Sorry for the short chapter. Future ones will be much longer

Tagging: @anxiouspineapple99 @starrylothcat @sev-on-kamino @wizardofrozz @dystopicjumpsuit @sinfulsalutations @multi-fan-dom-madness @moonlightwarriorqueen

If anyone else wishes to be tagged in future chapters send me an ask and give me a follow so that I can tag you

[innerchorus]

I am currently having Saam feels and I just need to express them somehow!! He's gonna have a better time in Wolfpack than he does in canon— not only is his love Kharlan alive, Hilmes is proving to be a worthy leader, they're not stuck between a rock and a hard place, etc etc, and I like to think he and Shapur might feel a shared connection of them both having changed their allegiances from Andragoras to Hilmes (though for very different reasons)... Things are really looking up for both his country and liege, and he's got a tiny healer aggressively pushing him to take better care of himself. And... And... Fuck, my head's all jumbled. Maybe Hilmes would confide in him with his insecurities, all the complicated and intense emotions and grief and everything regarding the history of Kaykhusraw and the clan, the truth of his lineage, his uncertainties, his resolve to build a better Pars, everything, the sheer trust of it all (unlike a certain someone...*side-eyes chapter 115 Hilmes*), and he gets to witness Hilmes grow!! He'd be so proud! I do wonder what he'd think of all the clan history stuff though, he'd be Shook for sure. I think he'd really encourage the idea of the ceremony for the Temple of Truth, it just feels right for him. And he'd bond with Arslan over wanting Hilmes to grow... He's gonna have so many bonds with so many people! Including various clan folk— chaos aside Kazai is a caring person once you get to know him after all. He doesn't get to be isolated anymore.

I don't imagine Kubard would like to serve Hilmes, though— he might end up joining the clan, he might just strike out on his own to be a wanderer who occasionally keeps in touch with everyone else. He might first encounter the clan in Daylam or something, or somewhere near, maybe when the clan is rounding up rural areas to help around or fortify them or just responding to the Lusitanians (by striking them down), and maybe they could've fought alongside each other and think “oy this guy's fun!”

I think I've posted about the mages integrating themselves into the local folks' day-to-day lives by helping manage grain storage and helping repel pests and healing people and stuff like that, so what if they expand a little, extend their services to areas outside of Shapur's lands? And that's how they probably ended up somewhere around Daylam?

I don't know how to end this so uh, have this mental image of Eihon whacking Hilmes and/or Saam and/or Zandeh with her trusty stick. I don't know how this got into my head but it's stuck there and I'm about to make it your problem.

I once saw a fanart of a very worried Zandeh piling a mountain of blankets on a sick Saam with Hilmes sitting by his bedside, haven't tracked down the source but it was very cute.

Oh so many Sam feels... These are good ones though! It's nice to have something to counteract his canon position a little, and imagine him loved, surrounded by comrades, with the kind of social support that I think he really needs and has been sorely missing. Someone like Kubard is happy with his own company for a time but I can't help but think Sam feels best when he has people he is close to nearby.

This does sound like a big improvement on his canon situation right now. I cannot express how much I want to see Sam's pride at seeing Hilmes grow into the person he hoped he would, the ruler he felt he had the potential to be. 😭

And yeah it totally feels like Kubard would fight alongside the clan in a situation like that; it's a little like him teaming up with Merlaine, or killing off Lusitanians bandits causing trouble.

Also the idea of Eihon whacking Zandeh with a stick is absolutely comedic and I love it and he probably deserved it but I imagine he'd be a bit crestfallen nonetheless ...like a puppy that's just been disciplined lmao

[kwop-kilawtley]

team iguanas be like “how are you even a twilight fan if you hate the cullens and are team Jacob.”

Tbh I’d argue team jacobs are the bigger twilight fans bc we actually care about bella and don’t want her to die in the end. We also care about the characters that deserved better and are the heart of the story. I’m not a SMEYER FAN, maybe you are if u like canon…but no I love the characters she created but she ruined them so…..

Team Jacobs out here with this entire fandom on our backs tbh. Yeah we analyze and characterize the ones in the story that didn’t get a voice bc we see they DESERVEDDDD BETTER!!!!!!! Y’all can keep the cullens tho lol… we’re having fun with our little delusional 🤭wolfpack and human bella imagines 🤭

[veny-many]

Previous post:

About Wolfpack left alone in Empire.

Boost is good soldier, but also a sweetheart. After Wolffe is gone, he encouraged pack members that they still have themselves, and hugs and tells warm words to console his brothers. But when he thinks about his Commander and General, he feels depressed by the fact whose he trusted most became traitors and left them. He sometimes doubts those facts, due to his kind heart, but first he needed to take care of his brothers. He dislikes Empire that pushes his brothers to death more that before. Sometimes he misses the General, who never would allow their sacrifice, and Commander who would protect them no matter what.

Sinker bitterly thinks about his General's betrayal. That those kindness and care was just an act to gather their trust. But when Empire forces them to dangers more and more, and while witnessing his brothers got hurt or die, he often thinks, that even that was just a lie, he misses his General's kindness. His love for all sentients and clones. That now became the least considered things in Imperial's violence. When they marched as Imperial soldier, Sinker sometimes thinks, that it might be fair if they don't deserve to be sentients. If they just keep doing this marching without doubts. There was one man who told them they can do better than that.

Warthog thinks about his fallen friend, Tracer. And thinks about his General who was their side. When he was grieving for his friend, General came for his and showed his respect and mourning. And offered to fly with him by his side. And now, he knew that all those fallen brothers death was because of that Jedi's betrayal. Those traitors. But was it all fake? Those grieving that his General showed? Those humors and jokes that they laughed together while flying beautiful sky? His General's kindness, that when he never allowed even one droid be lost their memories, and offering places by his side to those who abandoned like Jag?

Wildfire left Imperial after arguing with his pack. He always had doubts about war they were fighting, and after Empire has risen, he totally disagreed with his new army. After shout matching with his dear brothers, he knew that his brothers didn't agree with him, and next morning, Wildfire's room was empty, when Boost came in with rations worried about his brother. There was one letter for the Pack. After his disappearance, Pack became more depressed. Even Boost finally broken down and silently cried in his bad. Sinker hugged him for a long long moment.

Comet prompted to Commander and had to lead his Wolfpack. With new weight of the Commanding, and fast changing situations outside, Comet became more quiet and closed. Pack members worried about their youngest brother of original Wolfpack. Comet tries not to think about his big brother, who always protected and take care of him. About his General, who showed pure happiness when he finally got Comet's trusts. They betrayal you, and left you like nothing. They were lying when they told you they would never leave you to death. Comet forces to think like that, so he can bear the pressure of the new life with his rage.

When their General confirmed as a survival, with his Commander, they were tasked to hunt them down till death.

And they would find them. No matter what happens. No matter how hard it is. They are Wolfpack, and Wolfpack is ready for the hunt.

[the-starry-seas]

11, 13, and/or 18 for the Star Wars ask game?

11. Who would you want as your Jedi master? (Why) Plo Kloon because of that gifset where he says the Wolfpack's lives are more valuable to him than completing a mission. I haven't ever actually seen either of the Clone Wars animated shows (yeah, I know, I know) but I respect him for that because the clones deserve better. Also he has a cool design.

13. What is your earliest Star Wars memory? I was in primary school in Surrey when episode 3 came out and there were these tiny toy lightsabers from cereal boxes that had mazes built into the blade and you could try to get a tiny ball through the maze by turning it around. They were a HOT THING for every kid there (or at least that was my impression since the teachers had to resort to confiscating them all so we'd focus lmao). I found a page here that shows them pretty well.

18. What is your favorite piece of Star Wars merchandise that you own? I got a Build-A-Bear bantha for my birthday a few months ago and she is my favourite thing ever. Her name is Rayyan, which is the name of my Tusken OC's bantha! Very soft and fluffy 10/10, truly cannot oversell the adorableness of the bantha just look at my girl

[tyrus-bh-trash]

all the shadowhunters suck. like genuinely. jace killed 10s of 100s of downworlders and none of the downworlders could say anything without someone thinking they wanted revenge but he turns around after *6* shadowhunters were killed and decides TO COLLECT DOWNWORLDER DNA AND PUT TRACKERS IN THEM. this is addressed and made right so im not that upset. i dont know i just hate the weird race parallels Shadowhunters^TM puts in even though it has a strong “white savior” vibe that is never addressed so the parallels are all in vain. idrk how to explain it but hopefully some of yall will understand.

also luke never should have been the alpha of a wolfpack and the werewolf lives that were lost under his leadership couldve been avoided. he cared about clary and the shadowhunters to the detriment of all the other wolfs. they deserved better

#jace, izzy, clairy, and alec. they are all compliant with the regime

[trumpkinhotboy]

"Would you like to dance?"

Pairing: Ron Weasley x Reader

Type: Not requested/blurb

Genre: Good vibess, no angst in sight

Rating: pg

Warnings: None!

Word count: Approx. 1700

Requests: Open!! (For Narnia and Twilight Wolfpack and maybe Ron Weasley/Harry Potter stuff ;o)

A/n: I know it's literally been a thousand years since I posted anything, but uhhhh what can I say? I watched the series and inspiration struck me 🤷‍♀️ Hope you enjoyyy

**Not my gif!!

**also can you imagine him looking at you like that??? ooompfff

Summary: A few bumps in the road seem to darken the reader's night at a Hogwarts ball. Luckily, there's always a Weasley boy hanging around to lighten up the night and make everything feel right again.

This night was going the opposite way you thought it would. Even though you were in love with your dress and marveled at the music and decor in the Great Hall, there was one thing that put quite a dent in this enchanting night. You would have never expected your date to ditch you for another girl in the middle of a dance, except he did, right when the dancefloor started to get packed with people.

You could understand though, she was a beautiful girl and, since you also were in a few classes with her, you knew she was a really smart witch. It was quite embarrassing to be left for someone else, but if you were honest your date had never been your first choice. Considering that fact, you felt a bit less enraged than you should have been. In truth, you had hoped to ask a certain red-haired, clumsy Weasley, but hadn't been able to muster up the courage when the time had come. Thinking about it, this was the real thing that had put a dent in your night.

So there you sat, alone at an empty table, except for the few glasses left there; abandoned by their owners, who clearly had something better to do than sitting down. You stared at the crowd of students on the floor, feeling a mix of envy, anger, and a bit of shame. If it had just been about dancing to some upbeat song, you would have joined the crowd, confident you would find some friends in there, but no. With your luck, it had to be some romantic slow-tempo songs. The kind of song where you slow dance with someone, love, and magic in the air, as delicate snowflakes fall from the ceiling. The atmosphere was incredibly enchanting and romantic. Which was not helping your case. The sweet melody ended softly, and you straightened up, hoping it would switch to something a bit more upbeat. You were very disappointed to hear one of your favorite classical pieces slowly start to diffuse in the room. You ungracefully lowered, more like smacked, your head on the table, feeling cursed and wondering what you had done to deserve such a thing. You let out a sigh and defeated, decided to cut out the humiliation and go back to your room to cuddle up with a good book and a blanket.

That was your plan until you heard: “Ahem, would you like to dance?”

You nearly jumped out of your chair at the sound of the familiar voice. Someone you had been looking for all night, even though he seemed nowhere to be found. Your gaze met up with Ron’s and you couldn’t help a smile from illuminating your face.

“If I’d like to dance?” You repeated, feeling both delighted and incredibly surprised. The words immediately made his pale cheeks redden. You knew this wasn’t his thing, balls, dancing, and dressing up, but for him to offer this to you anyway made your stomach fill up with butterflies.

“Don’t make me ask again.” He pleaded, and for a second, he seemed unsure whether or not you would accept his offer. Which was funny, since you were the one sitting alone while everyone was dancing. Especially if you considered that he had been the one you wanted to dance with all night.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” You answered as you got up, finally taking ahold of his outreached hand. He seemed to let out a small sigh of relief before a satisfied smile spread out on his pink lips.

He conducted you to the middle of the dancefloor while you stared at him with disbelief. Ronald Weasley was a lot of things, but being the kind of guy to bring a girl to the middle of a dancefloor at a ball, was not something you would have put on the list. He slowly brought you in, one hand holding yours, the other around your waist. As he made contact with you, you noticed that his hand was incredibly warm and… big? His thumb sat on your stomach as the rest of his palm laid out and reached the middle of your back.

Were his hands really this big? How had you never noticed?

“Y/n?” “Mh?” “Somethin' wrong?” “What?”

As you lifted your head, you realized you had been blatantly staring at his hand like it was a strange foreign object. You felt a blush creeping up your neck, suddenly making you feel incredibly hot and clammy.

"Is something the matter with my hand?" "What? Oh, no. I just noticed how hot it is in here. Don't you think? Isn't it hot in here?” You whispered while looking around, very much so like a crazy woman. “Uhm, no? Not really?” He looked up at the ceiling before adding with a chuckle. “I mean, snowflakes are coming down from the ceiling so.”

Oh right. You looked up, feeling like you might explode from embarrassment. You weren't generally this self-conscious (or dumb) around him, but tonight seemed to unveil all kinds of new surprises for you.

“Lord Y/n, quit blushing so much. Did you eat one of Fred and George’s nasty dessert pranks? The ones in the Skiving Snackboxes?”

You shook your head with an embarrassed smile. If he was actually comparing you to one of Fred and George's victims, you must have looked really terrible. You rested your forehead on his shoulder and before you could even think about what you were saying added, “It’s not the Snackboxes, but if you could stop making me feel so nervous I’d probably come back to a normal color. "

You felt his breath stop, and by the movement of his body, could guess that he was now staring at you. Immediate dread invaded your whole body. If an enraged thestral could come into the room right now and whisk you away, you would really love it. But no, you were stuck here with your big mouth, resting your sweaty forehead on Ronald Weasley's shoulder.

"I- uhm, I make you nervous?" An actual question, not a confident tone as if he knew the effect he had on you, no. He was actually asking you a question. Was that boy blind for God's sake!

"Can we just, dance?" You took a deep breath before you lifted your head to face him. "Please?"

He looked at your pleading eyes, an enormous question mark still written on his face. You felt his thumb timidly stroke the back of your waist before he added in a whisper.

"Sure, but you gotta know I’m a pretty shitty dancer."

You let out a loud laugh, relieved he didn't push the subject. "Oh you don't have to worry about that Weasley, I do know."

In fact, everybody knew how bad of a dancer Ron was. Another laugh escaped you as you remembered how uncomfortable he had looked when he'd danced with McGonagall before the Yule Ball.

"If you are such a bad dancer, why offer me a dance?" you asked with a teasing look.

"Well, I know how much you like to dance, and you look bloody amazing tonight. I could not leave you alone sitting at that table."

You started dancing again, both facing the opposite side of each other. Your chin right above his shoulder, you stared straight ahead. Now it was your turn to feel your breath catch in your throat.

Lots of people liked to joke about Ron's clumsiness and the fact that he used to get scared easily. Oh, and also that he was kind of a lunatic sometimes. But really, no one ever noticed how he was one of the most thoughtful, loyal, and protective people you could ever meet. That was a privilege you earned as you got to know him better.

You held him a bit tighter, feeling so grateful for his presence in your life. "Well, thank you," you mumbled, chin resting on his shoulder.

"No worries. Anyway, after dealing with your bum of a date, I had all the time in the world to come and badly dance with you."

"After you what!?" you took a step back to face him. He had the biggest smirk on his face, looking mischievous as ever. At that moment, the resemblance between him and his older twin brothers was uncanny.

"Ron!? What did you do?" You tried keeping a straight face, but in the end, couldn’t keep in your smile. There was the loyalty and protectiveness you loved so much. "You can see for yourself. I think about now, the desserts should have taken effect." he nodded to your right, and that’s when you saw him (or it) in the corner of the room. You gasped, hand flying to your mouth to hide the loud noise. You were regaled with the sight of your ex-date trying to make a big move towards his new companion. But as he leaned in, making that weird face guy sometimes make before they kiss you, his face started to distort into big bumps and lumps. He was not a feast for the eyes, and as he leaned in, one of the lumps made contact with his poor date's nose. She opened her eyes and screamed, horrified. She ran away, creating a big commotion around the lovely couple.

Ron and you hid in each other's shoulders trying to keep in your laughter. You both failed miserably, but still deserved an A for effort because that was quite a scene. When you lifted your head again, it was to meet your friend’s sparkling eyes. Snowflakes adorned his red hair, and the light of the candles floating everywhere reflected in his blue eyes. Once again, you were struck by how handsome he was.

"I wish I could scold you, but honestly, it feels pretty good to see he got what he deserves." (Okay, maybe it is a bit hypocritical to say that, but still. Even though he wasn't your first choice, you never would have abandoned him to go with someone else, as if he'd have never existed.) You smiled, sure a glimpse of adoration was creeping into your gaze. "Thank you, again. It's the second time you save me tonight Weasley. If you keep this going, I'm gonna have to start paying you back."

He let out a small chuckle, his hands now on your hips as yours rested on his broad shoulders.

"In fact…" you brought your lips to his cheek to lay down a small kiss. "First payment."

Now it was his turn to go red as a tomato, the sparkle shining even brighter in his blue eyes.

"Careful Y/l/n. You might encourage me to keep saving you if that’s how you repay me."

[itsbrucey]

STOP I'M SHAKING YOUR HAND SO HARD ON EVERYTHING YOU SAID IN RESPONSE TO MY TAGS Erin with the fancy fur outfits and cool makeup is you reading my mind DARRYL WITH ALL THE PAEDENS I'M GONNA CRY AAAAAA 😭 AND DAMN IT THAT WILLY IDEA IS SO GOOD FUCK I'M ALREADY OBSESSED WITH HIM okay Nick, Nicolas, and Nicky being played by separate actors is *also* very funny and reminds me of a post someone made a *while* back (don't think I'd be able to find it unfortunately) wherein those three live together in an apartment and now I'm thinking about that again it's. It's the fucking low-budget spinoff series that's somehow way better than it should be- in any case imagining all of their actors being silly in behind-the-scenes footage AH AND NICK AND GLENN'S ACTORS HANGING OUT YEAH I-

I think we're thinking of the same post but yeah,,, all the flavors of Nick being separate actors is so fun bc it literally WOULD be a different person but Jodie and Glenn are still fighting over this random kind in a Ralph Lauren polo.

AND YES. I stand firm that Erin O'Neil would be DRAPED in fur. Her costuming needs to be EXTRA. LUSH. EXTRAVAGANT. CARNIVORE QUEEN! It would make the dads stand out even more + she deserves it.

I've seen it in other fandoms but the Villian Actor being like....normal and nice outside of their character always gets me so I imagine Willy as like. The one to cough and take a sip of whatever after a bunch of brutal shouting and then high-five Scary. Let the Teens wear the cloak. Be super good friends with Ron's actor......

Darryl having all the Paeden kids on his back/dangling from his arms/holding onto his legs. That's what I want. And I imagine there's the MAIN PAEDEN. THE ALPHA. and the rest get wigs/styled like him but it's essentially a Wolfpack of children who LOVE their job.

GLENN AND NICK'S ACTOR SMOKING BUT ITS FAKE VAPES AND BLUNTS..... Movie magic ( bonus points if Glenn doesn't actually smoke and it's just for the show)

NORMAL'S ACTOR WADDLING AROUND IN THE MASCOT.....