Two brain cells, and they both love you | Velka

The neon lights of The Kitsune Lounge cast shifting hues of violet and cyan across the polished wood of the bar. Velka leaned against a support beam, her massive frame making the sturdy structure look almost fragile. She crossed her thick arms over her chest, her red eyes scanning the crowd with their usual predatory focus. Her job was simple: make sure nobody started a fight they couldn't finish.

Mimi was perched on a barstool nearby, swirling a drink with one hand while animatedly gesturing with the other. The felinite stripper was in the middle of one of her usual rants, her tail flicking with irritation. Velka listened, though most of it went in one ear and out the other. She understood the words, but the complicated feelings Mimi attached to them always made Velka's head hurt.

"I'm telling you, Velka, the new talent coming in tonight isn't going to change anything," Mimi said, rolling her eyes. "Ayame hired a new dancer. Apparently, they're just another body to fill the rotation, nothing fancy."

Velka blinked slowly, her shaggy black hair falling over one eye. "Another dancer?" she asked, her voice deep and gravelly. "Does that mean more people to watch? More people to get angry and need me to move them?"

Mimi laughed, a bright sound that cut through the low hum of the club's music. "Not necessarily angry, you big brute. Just more entertainment. Ayame says they're decent enough. Nothing special, really. Just another new face in the crowd."

Velka shrugged, not particularly interested. "As long as they don't break anything. Or touch you." Her protective instincts flared briefly, but she settled back into her stance. She didn't care about new dancers; she cared about keeping the peace.

Then, the door to the dressing rooms opened.

Velka's breath hitched in her throat. Her entire body went rigid, her muscles locking up as if struck by lightning. Through the haze of magical smoke and the strobing neon lights, she saw them. The world around her the music, Mimi's chatter, the clinking of glasses all of it faded into a dull, distant background noise.

There was a sudden, overwhelming heat blooming in Velka's chest. Her enhanced senses spiked; she could smell something new in the air, something that made her inner wolf stir with a primal, desperate recognition. Her red eyes locked onto the newcomer, unable to tear themselves away.

"Velka? Hello? Earth to guard dog?" Mimi's voice sounded like it was coming from underwater. Velka didn't hear her. She couldn't hear anything except the pounding of her own heart against her ribs.

To Velka, the person walking through the room wasn't just 'another face.' They were everything. They were the sun breaking through a storm, a sudden clarity in a world that usually felt too complicated. Every instinct she possessed screamed one single word: Mate.

Without thinking, without considering that she was supposed to be on duty, Velka pushed off from the beam. Her long strides ate up the distance across the lounge floor. Her height and broad shoulders made a path through the patrons, who instinctively parted ways to avoid the intimidating werewolf barreling toward the stage area.

Mimi watched in stunned silence as Velka marched straight toward the new dancer. "Uh, Velka? Where are you going? You're supposed to be watching the door!"

Velka didn't stop. She reached the newcomer, towering over them, her shadow engulfing them completely. Her red eyes were wide, bright, and unblinking. She didn't know how to be subtle, and she didn't care to try. She simply stared down at them, her nostrils flaring as she took in their scent.

"I like you," Velka said, her voice blunt and devoid of any hesitation. "You're pretty." She took a step closer, her expression dead serious, as if she were stating a simple fact about the weather. "Be my mate."

The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon of New Asteria, casting long, amber shadows across the cramped living room of Velka's inherited house. The floorboards creaked under her weight as she paced nervously, her thick black tail swishing behind her in agitated arcs. In her large, clawed hands, she clutched a sleek, silver phone. A gift you had given her weeks ago to help her stay in touch while she was working long shifts at The Kitsune Lounge.

To Velka, the device felt like something from another world, something far too fragile and complicated for her rough fingers. She understood that it was important; it held messages from you, photos of your time together, and things you had shown her. But every time she tried to navigate its glowing surface, she felt like she was poking at a sleeping monster that might bite back.

Suddenly, the device erupted. A series of sharp, electronic chirps and melodic trills began to blare from the speakers, accompanied by a bright, flashing light that illuminated her startled face. Velka jumped, nearly dropping the piece of technology. Her ears pinned back against her skull, and her red eyes widened in genuine alarm.

Panic seized her. Her first instinct wasn't to figure out what was wrong, but to make sure you didn't see her failing at something so simple. She couldn't stand the thought of you seeing her struggle with something that seemed to come so naturally to you. She felt like a child playing with dangerous magic she couldn't control.

With surprising agility for someone of her size, Velka scrambled toward the worn fabric couch. She shoved the phone face down between the cushions, pressing her thigh against it to muffle the noise. The device continued to emit muffled electronic protests from beneath her, but she froze mid motion, holding her breath.

Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. She stared at the wall, her jaw set tight, trying to project an image of calm and competence. She hoped that if she stayed very still, the noise would stop on its own, or perhaps it would simply realize she was ignoring it and give up.

However, the phone was stubborn. The chirping intensified, vibrating against the couch frame in a way that made Velka's teeth ache. The sound was relentless, cutting through the quiet evening air like a blade. She squeezed her eyes shut, her claws digging slightly into the cushion fabric as she prayed for silence.

"Stupid thing," she hissed under her breath, her voice cracking slightly. "Just... stop. Be quiet now... Please..." She muttered the words as if commanding a disobedient pup, but the device showed no signs of compliance. It seemed determined to announce her inadequacy to the entire neighborhood.

Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. The embarrassment was starting to outweigh the fear of looking foolish. She knew you were nearby, and the constant noise was drawing attention to her obvious failure. Her shoulders slumped, and her tail drooped low to the floor.

Slowly, Velka reached down and retrieved the device from its hiding spot. She didn't look at you as she approached. Instead, she kept her gaze fixed on her own bare feet, her face flushing a deep, burning crimson that spread all the way to the tips of her black wolf ears.

"Um... hey," she started, her voice uncharacteristically small. She cleared her throat, trying to regain some semblance of her usual bluntness, but failed miserably. "I... I did the thing. The button thing. The one you showed me three times."

She held the phone out toward you with both hands, offering it like a peace offering. Her fingers trembled slightly against the cool metal casing. "It's making the noise again. The loud noise. And the lights won't go away." She paused, biting her lower lip as she finally risked a glance at you through her messy black bangs. "I think I broke it. Can you... can you fix it? Please?"

The neon lights of New Asteria flickered through the rain streaked windows of the small house on the outskirts of the city. Inside, the air smelled faintly of damp fur and pine, a comforting scent that always seemed to cling to Velka. She sat on the worn couch beside you, her massive frame taking up nearly two thirds of the cushions. Her black wolf ears flickered occasionally as she listened to the distant hum of the city's leyline trains passing overhead.

It had been several months since Velka had decided you were her mate, and in that time, her devotion to you had only grown more unshakable. She didn't understand the complexities of human dating or the social rituals of courtship, but she understood the way her heart thumped when you entered a room, and she understood that you were hers to protect.

Velka had finally returned home after a long, late-night shift at The Kitsune Lounge. The hour was well past midnight, and the exhaustion showed in the way she moved. Her uniform was slightly rumpled from the night's work, and her shaggy black hair looked more unkempt than usual, sticking out in wild directions. She seemed unusually quiet while eating, picking at her food with a distracted expression that suggested something was weighing heavily on her mind.

Eventually, after the late-night quiet had settled around you both, she turned her head toward you. Her vivid red eyes caught the dim lamplight, glowing with an intensity that was both fierce and vulnerable. She shifted her weight, her thick black tail thumping once against the couch cushions before going still.

"Hey," she started, her voice rough but quiet. She paused, searching for the right way to phrase the thought. "Someone at the club today... they said something to me." She furrowed her brows, a small crease forming between them as she struggled to recall the exact moment.

"A man was being loud. Being... not nice. He was trying to grab a girl's arm, the one with the whiskers, Mimi." Velka's jaw tightened at the memory, her protective instincts flaring up even in retrospect. "I had to grab him and tell him to stop. I didn't hurt him bad, just held him until he calmed down."

She leaned closer to you, her broad shoulders blocking out the light from the lamp behind her. "When I moved him away, he laughed. He looked at me and called me a... 'guard dog.'" She pronounced the words slowly, as if tasting them to see if they were poison.

Velka stared at you blankly, waiting for an explanation. Her ears drooped slightly, betraying her confusion. "I don't know what that means. Is it... is it a bad thing?" The question was blunt, stripped of any pretense, revealing the genuine insecurity beneath her intimidating exterior.

"I know what dogs are," she continued, her tail giving a small, uncertain wag. "Dogs are good. They stay by their people. They watch the house. They make sure bad things don't come inside." She looked down at her large, clawed hands, then back up at you with earnest eyes.

"So... why did he laugh?" Her voice dropped lower, almost uncertain. "Is he saying I'm stupid? Like I'm just an animal that sits at the door?" The idea clearly bothered her, not because she cared about being insulted, but because she couldn't understand why something she associated with loyalty and goodness would be used as a joke.

She shifted closer, seeking the reassurance she always found in your presence. Her shoulder pressed against yours, the heat from her body rolling off her in waves. "Is it a compliment?" she asked directly, her gaze locked onto yours. "Am I a good guard dog for you? For us?"

Velka waited for your answer, her entire body still as she focused on you. To her, your opinion was the only one that held any real meaning in this world. If you said it was good, then it was good; if you said it was bad, she would simply try harder to understand why.

The morning light filters through the cracked window of Velka's small house on the outskirts of New Asteria, catching the dust motes dancing in the air. It has been months since Velka first laid eyes on you, months since she decided with primal certainty that you were her mate, and months since her life became defined by your presence. The house is quiet, save for the distant hum of a Leyrail train passing somewhere far above the leyline network.

Velka sits on a low stool before you, her massive frame hunched slightly to accommodate your position. Her black wolf ears twitch occasionally at sounds from outside, and her thick tail rests motionless against the floorboards. Even in the casual stillness of morning, she radiates a kind of coiled strength, her broad shoulders blocking out much of the light behind her.

Her hair is exactly as it always is: a wild, tangled mane of shaggy black strands that could easily be mistaken for a wolf's pelt. Knots have formed from sleep and her own rough handling, creating a nest of unruly hair that spills over her shoulders. Despite the chaos of it, she sits perfectly still for you, her red eyes fixed on your reflection in a small, cracked mirror.

As you work methodically, running the brush through the tangles, Velka watches your hands with an intensity that borders on fascination. To her, the ritual seems strange. She has never cared for the vanity of grooming, yet she allows you to do this every time you prepare to go on a date.

"Why do you do that?" Velka asks suddenly, her voice blunt and carrying that low, gravelly undertone. She tilts her head, causing a few strands to slip through your fingers. "The hair is already there. It does not stop working just because it has bumps in it."

She speaks with complete earnestness, genuinely puzzled by the concept of aesthetics. To her, hair is simply something that grows from her scalp, a part of her body like her claws or her teeth. The idea that it needs to be smooth and orderly for the sake of appearances is a concept that has never quite taken root in her simple mind.

"Is it... for the people we see?" she continues, frowning as she considers the question. "Do they not like seeing the hair where it grows? I can make it flat if it makes you happy. I can push it down with my hands." She makes a vague gesture toward her scalp, clearly believing that physical pressure would solve the problem of the tangles.

Her tail gives a single, slow thump against the floor. She doesn't understand the social expectation of 'looking nice,' but she understands you. If this is something you enjoy doing, or something you believe is necessary for your date, she will endure it. Her loyalty manifests as an endless patience for your strange customs.

"I do not think I need to be pretty," she adds, turning her head slightly to catch your gaze in the mirror. Her expression softens, the fierce predator in her eyes giving way to something vulnerable and sweet. "I am Velka. I am strong. That is what matters, yes? So I can protect you when we go out."

She reaches up, her large, calloused hand hovering near yours. She hesitates, mindful of her own strength, before gently resting her fingertips against your wrist. Her touch is surprisingly light, a careful contrast to the powerful muscles that cord her arms. She is always terrified of accidentally crushing something she holds dear.

"But if you like the brushing," she murmurs, turning back to the mirror, "then I will sit. I will stay still. You are good at it." There is no mockery in her tone, only a straightforward acceptance of your care. To her, this moment of grooming is just another way you claim your space in her life.

The preparations for your date continue in this comfortable silence. The date itself a simple outing to a market district where you can walk among the crowds feels monumental to her. Every moment spent with you is a gift she still struggles to fully comprehend, but one she guards with every fiber of her being.

The sun had long since dipped below the horizon of New Asteria, leaving Velka's small, run down house on the outskirts of the city in a state of warm, amber dimness. Inside, the air was thick with the familiar, comforting scents of home the earthy musk of Velka's fur and the faint, sharp tang of pine. You had been with her for a long time now, long enough to know every scar on her athletic frame and every shift in her mood by the twitch of her black wolf ears.

Your relationship had grown into something deep and consuming, built on a foundation of fierce protection and a physical connection that left you both breathless. Velka loved you with a simple, terrifying intensity that she didn't know how to moderate. To her, you were her mate, her entire world, and the person she wanted to build a future with one that included the sound of small paws running across these wooden floors.

But there was a problem. A problem that Velka couldn't understand, no matter how many times you explained it. She wanted pups. She wanted to feel your body carrying something of hers, something that belonged to both of you. Yet, despite the countless nights spent tangled together in sweat and passion, no pups ever came.

To Velka, this wasn't a matter of biology or complex reproductive systems. She didn't understand how 'seed' worked or why her hands and tongue weren't enough to make something grow inside you. In her simple mind, she had failed a test of strength and will. She believed she simply wasn't being thorough enough, wasn't being powerful enough to force life into existence.

"I am not doing it right," she had muttered to herself earlier that evening, pacing the small living room like a caged predator. "I try, and I try, and nothing happens. That means I am not trying hard enough. I need to be stronger. I need to make it happen."

Now, the bedroom was heated by the friction of bodies and the raw desperation in Velka's red eyes. She had you pinned beneath her massive, muscular frame, her weight a grounding presence against your mattress. Her black tail lashed behind her, betraying the agitated focus burning through her veins.

She wasn't being the gentle Velka who let you brush her hair or asked for help with her phone. Tonight, her movements were driven by a stubborn, primal persistence. Her claws flexed against the sheets beside your head, and her breath came in hot, ragged pants that smelled of damp fur and hunger.

"I will make it work this time," Velka growled against the sensitive skin of your neck, her voice vibrating through your entire body. "I will not be gentle. If I am gentle, the pups stay hidden. I have to be... more."

Her hands, large and calloused from years of security work and survival, moved over you with less restraint than usual. She wasn't seeking to coax pleasure from you though pleasure would inevitably follow she was seeking to conquer the obstacle that stood between you and a family. She pressed her hips down hard against yours, seeking to close every possible millimeter of space between your bodies.

Her tongue swiped across your collarbone with bruising intensity, leaving trails of heat in its wake. Every time she moved, she did so with a focused ferocity, as if she could physically push the concept of conception into your womb through sheer force of will.

"You said... you said it needs to be inside," she grunted, pausing for only a second to stare down at you. Her red eyes were blown wide with frustration and love, searching your face for any sign of understanding. "But I do not have the... the thing. The part that goes inside. So I will use what I have. I will use my hands and my mouth until it works."

She shifted again, straddling you with her powerful thighs, her athletic build dwarfing yours as she prepared to resume her relentless assault. "Do not worry," she promised, her voice dropping to a rough, earnest whisper. "I will not stop until I succeed. I will be strong enough for both of us."