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thistledown-au-warriors · 8 months

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fire and ice - chapter 27

< Chapter 26 || Index || Chapter 28 >

Violet Fang and Stone Pelt rushed forward and joined Fore Heart in a defensive row, and the queens lined up behind them. Fire Heart saw Blazing Cinder hobbling to join them, but Sand Storm leaped down from the Highrock and meowed to the small gray cat as she raced by. Blazing Cinder scrabbled clumsily back into the healers' den with a wounded expression as Sand Storm joined Violet Fang's side.

The elders grabbed the kits, bundled them into the nursery, and squeezed inside after them. Brindle Face picked up Cloud Tail in her jaws and passed him to Hop Speckle. Golden Flower protested before going into the nursery while Frost Shine and Rose Fall followed Brindle Face. The three mollies tugged at the brambles with their paws, ignoring the thorns, and covered the entrance before turning to join the rest of the Clan in the clearing. Fire Heart arched his back and hissed at Broken Tail. “You lost the last time we fought, and you’ll lose again!”

“Never!” Broken Tail spat back. “You might have taken my Clan away from me, but you can’t kill me — I have more lives than you!”

“One ThunderClan life is worth ten of yours!” Fire Heart growled. The ThunderClan warriors yowled and the clearing exploded into battle.

Fire Heart leaped straight for Broken Tail and grasped the dark brown tabby with his claws. Life as an outlaw had treated the former Clan leader harshly — Fire Heart could feel the ribs of the flea-bitten tom beneath his fur. But Broken Tail was still strong. He twisted around and sank his teeth into Fire Heart’s hind leg. Fire Heart yowled and hissed with rage, but kept his grip. Broken Tail struggled forward, scrabbling with his paws on the frozen ground. Fire Heart felt his claws raking along Broken Tail's bony flanks as the rogue warrior ripped himself free. Fire Heart lunged after him, but other claws were grasping at his hind leg. He looked over his shoulder to see who it was. Claw Strike crouched there, staring at Fire Heart with narrowed, mocking eyes.

Fire Heart looked back at him in disbelief. He had never expected to see this cat again. He forgot Broken Tail instantly. It was Claw Strike who had killed Leaf Spots in cold blood in order to steal Frost Shine’s kits for Broken Tail. Rage roared in Fire Heart’s ears. He twisted around and threw himself on top of the scrawny brown tom.

Fire Heart hardly noticed the pain in his leg as he tore it free from Claw Strike’s grasp and flew at him. The tom reared up and flailed his wide front paws. Thorn-sharp claws caught Fire Heart behind his ear. Pain ripped through him like fire, and he staggered. Claw Strike was on him in an instant, pinning Fire Heart to the ground and sinking his teeth into the back of his neck.

Fire Heart screeched in agony. Suddenly the weight was wrenched off his back. Fire Heart sprang to his paws and spun around. Gray Stripe! The gray warrior stood motionless, his eyes filled with horror. Claw Strike’s body hung limply from his jaws. Gray Stripe opened his mouth and Claw Strike fell to the ground, dead.

Both toms backed away from the lifeless body. The cat that Fire Heart felt so much rage for, who had been trying to kill him heartbeats ago… was now a corpse. It could've been me who killed him , Fire Heart realized with a chill, if Misty Step hadn't stopped me that day . In this case, it seemed like Claw Strike wouldn't have given up without taking a life. But Gray Stripe had taken his instead, to save him.

Fire Heart gave himself a shake, heartbeat fast once more. They weren't safe yet. He took a step forward. “Gray Stripe! Is Blue Fur with you?” he asked urgently.

Gray Stripe shook his head, barely out of his shock. “She sent me back to fetch Tiger's Claw.” he replied. “We found bones. Blue Fur believed she recognized Broken Tail’s stench on a tuft of fur caught on a bramble nearby, and guessed he must be leading the rogue cats.”

A hiss sounded nearby and two cats crashed into Fire Heart. He leaped out of the way. It was Frost Shine battling with another of the attacking cats. The molly was fighting with all the power of StarClan. These were the cats who had stolen her kits. Hate shone in her eyes as she struggled. Fire Heart held himself back — Frost Shine didn’t need his help. A moment later the rogue warrior was sent screeching away, through the bracken camp wall.

Frost Shine chased after him, but Fire Heart called her back. “You have given him enough wounds to remember you!” There was no need to litter their territory with corpses. The molly skidded to a halt by the bracken wall and turned, her sides heaving and her white fur stained with her enemy’s blood.

Another rogue warrior screeched past Fire Heart and headed for the camp wall. Stone Pelt and Rose Fall chased after him and managed to give the mottled tabby a fierce blow before he let him scrabble out of the camp.

Sand Storm had a rogue warrior pinned to the ground. The tom was lying motionless beneath her. Watch out! thought Fire Heart, remembering his favorite trick of letting an enemy think he had won. But Sand Storm was not deceived. When the tom leaped to his paws, she was ready. She sprang off him, and then lunged, grasping the warrior with her claws to flip him over and rake his belly with her hind legs. Only when he squealed like a kit did she let go of him. The rogue tore out of the camp entrance, still wailing.

There was an eerie moment of stillness. The ThunderClan cats stood in silence and stared at the blood and fur that was scattered around the clearing. In the middle lay Claw Strike's body.

Where was Broken Tail? Fire Heart spun around in alarm, scanning the camp. Could he have broken into the nursery? He was about to spring toward the bramble den when a wretched howl from Violet Fang's den tore the air. Fire Heart tore across to the fern tunnel. Blazing Cinder! He raced into the den, expecting the worst, but saw instead Broken Tail lying in a heap on the ground. The old healer stood over him.

Broken Tail’s eyes were closed and bloody. Fire Heart saw his sides heave once, and stop moving. He recognized from the deep stillness in the rogue warrior’s body that he was losing a life.

Violet Fang’s claws were unsheathed and glistened red. Her face was twisted and her eyes glazed.

Suddenly Broken Tail gasped and began to breathe again. Fire Heart waited for Violet Fang to lunge at him with another killing bite, but she hesitated. Broken Tail didn’t get up.

Fire Heart ran to the healer’s side. “Aren't you going to finish him off?” he whispered. “He murdered his father, banished you from your Clan, killed your kin and tried to kill you.”

“It’s not his last life.” she rasped. “And even if it were, I couldn’t kill him.”

“Why not? I'm sure StarClan would understand...” Fire Heart could not believe her words. The name Broken Tail had always made this old molly bristle with rage.

Violet Fang dragged her gaze from Broken Tail and looked at Fire Heart. Her eyes clouded with pain and grief as she murmured. “He is my son.”

Fire Heart felt the ground lurch under his paws. “But… you said healers are forbidden from having kits.” he blurted out.

“I know.” answered Violet Fang. “I never intended to have kits. But then I fell in love with Shadow Ragged Claws.” Her voice was thick with sorrow. Suddenly Fire Heart thought back to the battle when Broken Tail was driven out of the ShadowClan camp. Just before he fled, the cruel leader had told Violet Fang that he had murdered his father. Violet Fang had been devastated, and now Fire Heart understood why.

“There were three kits in my litter.” Violet Fang went on. “But only Broken Tail survived. I gave him to a ShadowClan queen to bring up as her own. I thought that losing two of my kits was punishment from StarClan for breaking the warrior code. But I was wrong. My punishment wasn’t that two of my kits died. It was that this one survived!” Violet Fang looked in disgust at Broken Tail's bleeding body. “And now I cannot kill him. I must accept my fate, as StarClan wishes it.”

Violet Fang staggered, and Fire Heart thought she was going to collapse. He pressed his body against her flank to support her and whispered. “Does he know you’re his mother?”

Violet Fang shook her head.

Broken Tail began to wail pitifully. “I can’t see!” Fire Heart realized with horror that the rogue cat’s eyes had been scratched beyond repair.

He cautiously approached the rogue. Broken Tail lay still, eyes covered with his paws. Fire Heart poked him with a forepaw. “Don’t kill me.” the rogue whined.

Fire Heart backed away, feeling a shudder of revulsion at the warrior’s fear. This cat who had done so much harm with no remorse was now reduced to a terrified creature begging for his own life.

Violet Fang took a deep breath. “I will see to him.” She walked over to her wounded son, grasped him by the scruff of his neck, and dragged him to the nest that Patchy Shade had left.

Fire Heart let her go. He wanted to check that Blazing Cinder was all right. He caught sight of a dark shape moving inside the split rock where the healers slept. “Blazing Cinder?” he called.

She poked her head out.

“Are you okay?” Fire Heart asked.

“Have the rogue cats gone?” she whispered.

“Yes, except Broken Tail. He’s badly injured. Violet Fang is seeing to him.” He waited for Blazing Cinder's shocked reaction, but she just shook her head slowly and stared at the ground.

“Are you okay?” Fire Heart repeated.

“I should have fought alongside you.” her voice was choked with shame.

“You would have been killed!”

“Maybe.” The small cat’s eyes were full of despair. “But I wouldn’t have minded being killed. What good am I like this? I’m just a burden on this Clan if I can't even fight to defend it.”

Fire Heart felt a thorn-sharp pang of pity and horror. He searched for words to comfort her, but before he could speak, Sand Storm crashed through the bracken. Her face showed that she'd overheard Blazing Cinder's words.

"Sand Storm…" the small apprentice breathed.

"Don't ever say that again." Sand Storm meowed, firmly but also softly. The ginger molly marched straight for her apprentice, stopping less than a tail-lenght in front of her. "It's a great gift to me that you are alive. I wouldn't forgive myself if you weren't."

Blazing Cinder looked at her with wide, watering blue eyes. "But… Sand Storm, Fire Heart said I could be a warrior if I wanted, but… I already did before the accident and I just proved myself too dumb to listen to anyone and-"

"Hush." Sand Storm placed her chin on top of the gray molly's head. "Fire Heart was right, you'll be a great warrior. I'll train you, like I promised I would, as soon as you heal."

"But I…" Blazing Cinder's voice cracked, and she dug her face into her mentor's chest fur. "I did nothing today."

"You did. You were safe, and I could fight better because I knew I had to protect you. I'll always prefer to know you're alive than dead on a battlefield. Not only me, but your siblings and mother too." She pulled the small cat closer. "You'll be a warrior who fights and makes it alive out of a battle, okay? But be safe until then, for me."

Fire Heart heard a sob, and backed away slowly to give them space, realizing he wasn't needed in this exchange.

Violet Fang's rasping mew sounded from the nest where she'd placed Broken Tail. “Fire Heart, you there?” she called. “Fetch me some cobwebs, quickly! And some comfrey root while you're at it.”

He blinked in surprise, then turned and disappeared inside the rock. He quickly found one of the knobbly roots near the entrance and grabbed it between his teeth, then rushed further in until he could feel cobwebs clinging to his fur and pawed at it until he'd wrapped a paw in them. On three legs he ran back to Violet Fang's side and thrust the cobwebs inside the nest.

“Leave the root here.” ordered Violet Fang. "And now go fetch me Stone Pelt." Fire Heart nodded and turned to leave.

Hardly any cat had moved in the camp clearing. Fire Heart padded straight to Stone Pelt and meowed. “Violet Fang is tending to Broken Tail's wounds. She called for you.” He ignored someone's gasp of disbelief. Stone Pelt looked over at the healers' den, hesitated, then meowed. "Right. I should be in there." he murmured, rushing to meet his mentor.

Fire Heart looked at the den as the bracken swished behind the gray tom. Sand Storm is in there if Broken Tail tries anything, at least , he thought.

He went over to Gray Stripe. The gray warrior was still staring at Claw Strike's body. “You saved my life.” Fire Heart murmured. “Thank you.”

Gray Stripe lifted his gaze to Fire Heart. “I would give my life for you.” he answered simply.

Feeling choked, Fire Heart watched his friend turn and walk away. Perhaps their friendship was not over after all.

The sound of paws pounding through the gorse tunnel broke into his thoughts. Blue Fur came rushing into the camp, followed by Pale Tail, Dusty Earth and Swift Bird. Fire Heart felt his shoulders droop with relief at the sight of his Clan leader. She looked around at the blood-spattered clearing, her eyes wide, until her gaze rested on Claw Strike's body. “Broken Tail attacked?” she meowed.

Fire Heart nodded.

“Is he dead?”

“He’s with Violet Fang and Stone Pelt.” Fire Heart answered, forcing out the words in spite of his exhaustion. “He’s been wounded — his eyes.”

She frowned. “And the other rogue warriors?”

“We chased them off.”

“Are any of our Clan badly hurt?” Blue Fur demanded, looking once more around the clearing. The cats shook their heads. “Good.” she meowed. “Dusty Earth, Swift Bird, take this body out of the camp and bury it. No healers or elders need be present. A rogue doesn't deserve to be buried with the honor of StarClan ritual.”

Swift Bird and Dusty Earth began to drag Claw Strike toward the tunnel.

“Are the elders safe?” Blue Fur asked.

“They’re in the nursery.” Fire Heart told her. As he spoke a rustling sounded from the bramble den, and Sparrow Nest appeared, followed by the other kits and elders. Fire Heart saw Cloud Tail tumble out and scamper excitedly across the clearing to Brindle Face. She greeted him with a brisk lick, and the kit turned to watch Claw Strike's body as it disappeared away through the tunnel.

“Is that a dead cat?” the kit asked curiously. “Can I see?”

“Hush.” whispered Brindle Face, tucking her tail around him.

“Where’s Tiger's Claw?” Blue Fur asked.

“He’s taken a party to attack a ShadowClan patrol.” Fire Heart explained. “We found bones on our patrol. They smelled of ShadowClan so Tiger's Claw decided to attack. I sent Bracken Leaf to stop him when Violet Fang realized it was Broken Tail’s scent on them.”

“Bracken Leaf?” meowed Blue Fur, narrowing her eyes. “Even though he might have to cross the Thunderpath?”

“We needed all the warriors in camp. There was no one else to send.”

Blue Fur nodded, the concern in her eyes giving way to understanding. “You didn’t want to leave the camp unguarded?” she meowed. “You did well, Fire Heart. I think Broken Tail hoped to lure all our warriors away from the camp. We found bones, too.”

“Gray Stripe told me.” Fire Heart looked around for his friend, but Gray Stripe had disappeared.

“Send Violet Fang to me when she’s finished with Broken Tail.” Blue Fur ordered. She pricked her ears at the noise of more paws in the gorse tunnel. Tiger's Claw came racing into the camp, followed by White Flower and the rest of the raiding party. Fire Heart craned his neck to peer around the warriors until he saw Bracken Leaf, right at the back. The young apprentice looked exhausted but unhurt. Fire Heart let out a quiet sigh of relief.

“Did Bracken Leaf reach you before you found a patrol?” asked Blue Fur, walking over to her deputy.

“We hadn’t even entered their territory.” Tiger's Claw answered. “We were just about to cross the Thunderpath.” His eyes narrowed. “Was that Claw Strike they were burying?”

Blue Fur nodded.

“Then Bracke Leaf was right.” meowed the deputy. “Broken Tail was planning to attack the camp. Is he dead too?”

“No. Violet Fang is tending to his wounds.”

“Surely not!” Mossy Patch exclaimed, exchanging a glance with Black Leopard beside her.

Tiger's Claw’s face darkened. “Tending to his wounds?” he snarled. “We should kill him, not waste time making him better!”

“We’ll discuss that once I’ve spoken to Violet Fang.” meowed Blue Fur calmly.

“You can discuss it with me now, Blue Fur." The healer molly padded into the clearing, her head drooping with exhaustion.

“Have you left Broken Tail alone?” growled Tiger's Claw, his amber eyes flashing.

Violet Fang raised her head and looked at the dark warrior. “Sand Storm and Stone Pelt are guarding him. And I’ve given him poppy seeds, so he’ll sleep for a while. Broken Tail is blind now, Tiger's Claw. There’s no way he’ll try to escape. His injury hasn't healed and he doesn't know how to navigate being blind. He’d die of hunger in a week, if a fox or a gang of crows didn’t kill him first.”

“Well, that makes it easier.” Tiger's Claw snarled. “We won’t have to kill him ourselves. We can let the forest deal with him.”

Violet Fang turned to Blue Fur. “We cannot let him die.” she meowed.

“Why not?” Blue Fur challenge, eyes cold. "He's a murderer."

Fire Heart held his breath as he watched the leader and deputy stare at Violet Fang. He wondered if the healer was going to tell Blue Fur that Broken Tail was her son.

“If we did, we would be no better than he is.” replied Violet Fang calmly.

Tiger's Claw’s tail flicked in anger. "That's fox-dung!" He spat.

Blue Fur let out a humorless chuckle. "How, exactly, would we be any worse?" She asked, her tone almost mocking. "That cat endangered and killed kits. He drove out a whole Clan. Killed his own father. We don't have to throw him in the woods - if we kill him now, it would be merciful compared to what he deserves."

Violet Fang seemed to barely be able to contain her shock, but Fire Heart could only stare at his leader in horror. Kill a cat in cold blood? How could any of this be part of what a Clan cat should do? Where was the honor in meaning to kill a cat and carrying it out? He gulped. Would Violet Fang have to watch her only kit be killed?

"My Thunder, if may I speak?" White Flower stepped out of the crowd. Blue Fur looked at him like he'd snuck up on her. The white warrior hesitated, unsure, but went on. “It would be a burden on our Clan to look after him, and it's more than what a cat like him deserves, yes. But Violet Fang is right — if we send him out into the forest to the predators, or kill him now when he can't fight back, StarClan will know we have stooped as low as he.”

"He's not helpless. Broken Tail is a danger as long as he breathes." Tiger's Claw shot back, eyes blazing. "Would you really consider keeping this rogue inside our camp?”

With a pang, Fire Heart couldn’t help agreeing with the dark warrior’s words. The thought of killing Broken Tail appalled him, and he'd never taken a life before himself, but Broken Tail was a fearsome enemy, even in his current situation. Keeping him in the camp would be difficult and dangerous for all the members of the Clan.

"ThunderClan warriors are capable. It won't be easy, but we can keep him prisoner. We've done so before." White Flower meowed, looking the deputy in the eye. "A warrior needs not to kill."

Blue Fur seemed to flinch, turning her face away from her kin, eyes shut. The air was filled with tense silence as the ThunderClan leader's tail twitched in thought.

Finally, her meow sounded in the clearing.

“Is he really blind?” Blue Fur asked Violet Fang.

“Yes, he is.”

“Does he have other wounds?”

Fire Heart replied this time. “I clawed him pretty badly.” he admitted. He looked over to Violet Fang and was relieved when the old molly dipped her head just enough for him to know she forgave him for wounding her son.

“How long till they heal?” asked Blue Fur.

“About a moon, maybe more for his eyes.” Violet Fang answered.

White Eye stepped forward. “Blue Fur.” she meowed in her croaky old voice. “In the past we have sometimes kept prisoners for many moons. We could do it again.” Fire Heart remembered that Violet Fang herself had been a prisoner when she first came to the camp. He waited for the healer to remind Blue Fur of this, but she said nothing.

The blue molly opened her eyes. She glanced at White Flower quickly, then raised her chin.

“Very well, then. You may nurse him until he heals, Violet Fang. After that we will discuss his future again. And from now on, no cat must use his title. He's just Broken Tail. We cannot take away the lives that StarClan gave him, but this cat is no longer a Clan leader.”

White Flower dipped his head. Fire Heart saw Violet Fang let go of a breath she'd been holding, although there was no relief coloring her expression, only weariness. The Clan began to disperse, concerned murmurs rippling through the clearing.

As Blue Fur began to pad to her den, Tiger's Claw tried to speak to her, anger twisting his face, but she cut him off. “It is decided!” Blue Fur spat without looking at him, a strange glint in her eyes. “Broken Tail stays.”

#thistledown au #thistledown fire and ice

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debiteful · 4 years

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If you’re still taking requests, I’ve always liked the concept of a pred having two stomachs, one for storing food and the other for digesting. A pred gobbles up a live unwilling prey and keeps them harmlessly in their first stomach for a while before moving them along to be digested. The prey is in fear the entire time, not knowing when they’ll be digested but surrounded by belly noises. Meanwhile, they pred enjoys the struggles and waits until the prey tries out before moving it along

Content: soft vore, fatal vore, digestion, unwilling anthro rabbit prey, tauric feline pred, similar size, belly bulge

Dangling in a net certainly was not the plan Jack had for his day. Yet here he was, swinging from a branch with his limbs tangled in a rough net when only moments before he'd been strolling along the path. He twitched his long ears, straining to listen for whatever hunter had made this trap.

Before too long, he did hear soft footsteps approaching. They hardly made a sound, even on the dead leaves that littered the forest floor. Jack wriggled to try and get a look at whoever was approaching, but the net kept him held fast.

A soft furred hand pushed him, sending him swinging and spinning inside the net. He only got brief glimpses of dark stripped fur as the net twisted and flew through the air. The hunter chuckled and grabbed the net while Jack's back was too them. He held it steady as he released it, sending the rabbit to the ground with a thud.

The second he hit the earth, Jack struggled. He kicked out with powerful hind legs and his arms flailed, trying desperately to get the net off. Before he got too far, big furry paws grasped him, pinning him to the ground no matter how hard he struggled. His face was pressed into the dirt and his heart raced as he tried to breathe despite the heavy weight on his back.

After a few moments, he stopped struggling; his main focus now was breathing. Thankfully, the bug paws stepped off of him. Left panting on the ground, he hardly had the breath to squeal as they grabbed his ears and hauled him to his feet.

He now stood eye to eye with a fearsome tomcat. The rabbit stood on tiptoes to try and keep their weight off of the ears clutched in the first of his captor. Pale green eyes worked over every inch of the prey, the cat remaining silent as he studied him. Jack tried to smile and stammer some words, but nothing got a response.

A paw batted his legs out from under him just as he let go of those long ears, sending the rabbit to the ground in a heap. Two front paws wrapped around Jack, claws just barely pricking at his skin as he tried to kick away from the now crouched cat.

The striped cat leaned forward, looming over Jack. Paws held fast onto his waist while a hand rested on his chest and the other hand grabbed his head.

"I'm Leif. It seems you've fallen prey to me," the powerful predator said with a grin. He licked his lips. His gaze was intent and Jack couldn't help but cower beneath it.

The next sight took his breath away. Leif opened his jaws wide, revealing a pink maw shining with saliva and leading to a dark throat. Pointed teeth stood out at the front, some saliva spiderwebbing between his jaws. Jack gave a muffled screech as they closed around his head. The cat's pink tongue raked across his face, pulling at his fur and leaving a slick trail of saliva. Again and again he lapped at his prey, tasting his catch.

As he began to savour, his arms wrapped tightly around the rabbit's lean body. With no hope of escape, Jack still kicked vainly at the tauric predator's chest. The only indication Leif gave of noticing the attempts were soft grunts as he heaved his prey further into his maw. Jack whimpered and kicked, feeling his face squished by throat muscles that rippled in waves to swallow him up. With each gulp he slid in a little further, and Leif worked to help the process by pushing with his arms.

Finally, Jack's head reached the bottom of the first belly. It slid along the bottom then up along a side, forcing him to curl as his body kept coming down. His bulk stretched belly walls, making a visible bulge that hung at the bottom of Leif's humanoid section. The rabbits feet were up near his head, and he struggled to move at all. His body contorted into all sorts of positions as he struggled to find a way free.

From the outside, all that could be seen was a rounded bulge that wiggled and shifted at the cat's middle.

Leif settled down in some leaves beside the path, leaning back over his back a little and paws stretched out infront and behind. He licked his fingers and hands off delicately, searching for any last trace of his unfortunate prey. Occasionally he gave his belly gentle rubs that elicited loud growls and delightful gurgles.

Meanwhile, Jack was helplessly trapped within the belly. He squirmed, both his body and the stomach soaked with saliva. With each glorp and gurgle he was certain lethal acid would join him, spelling certain doom. He tried to kick his legs, and his hands ran up and down the smooth, stretchy walls of the stomach. However, his movements only encouraged the growls that rumbled all around. Each sound struck his ears, causing a new flutter of heartbeats and increasingly rapid breath. Each inhale stretched his chest, pushing at the belly until he exhaled.

Leif listened to the delightful sounds his incredibly full belly was making and he flopped over onto the ground. He rubbed at his stomach with both hands, massaging it and pushing Jack around inside. The trapped prey felt so disoriented, first from the movement and then from the pressure pushing him every which way. He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself, but the moments all around made it impossible. Not even for a moment could he imagine he was anywhere but here.

Only once the strong rabbit had ceased to struggle did Leif let him pass on to the stomach proper. He stroked his belly, pushing his prey down and into the bigger belly along his cat body. The transition was delightful, feeling Jack slide even further into the digestive tract. The upper belly growled as it lost its filling and the lower belly gurgled and flexed as it was filled with exhausted rabbit.

In a daze, Jack felt the movement; he did not know what it meant. His hands were weak and shaky, but his ran them up along the wrinkled wall of Leif's stomach, feeling acid well up and slide down his arm towards his body. All around him fluids seeped from the folded walls of this much more active belly. Smooth muscle flexed on it's own, causing ominous growls and forcing fluids to gurgle all around the doomed prey.

Leif flicked his tail this way and that, enjoying the feeling of a successful hunt. His belly was full, and his prey had been lively. There wasn't a more perfect combo he could think of. He knew it would only be a matter of time before the once vital rabbit became nothing more than nutrients to fuel him. He liked to think that even the struggles in the first stage gave him a little bit more vigor with which to tackle the day. Whether it was true or not, it was certainly worth it. He belched, the warm taste of rabbit returning to his tongue for a sweet moment even though its source was certainly beyond such an escape.

#soft vore #fatal vore #digestion #same size #tauric pred #anthro prey #unwilling prey #debiteful writing #cat pred #rabbit prey #two stomachs

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doritopaw101 · 3 years

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Arc1, book 2: Chapter 13

As he plunged into the stream Icefire managed to keep one clawhold on the branch. He felt as if he were fighting a spiky wooden enemy, twigs that lashed at him and raked through his fur while his breath bubbled into the dark water. His head broke the surface briefly, but before he could gasp in air the branch twisted and rolled him under again.

Terror made him strangely calm, as if time had slowed down. Part of Icefire's mind told him to let go of the branch and fight his way to the surface, but he knew that if he did that he would risk his life; the current was far too strong for him to swim. The force of the water meant there was nothing he could do but dig claws in and endure. 'Starclan help me!' he thought frantically.

His senses were just beginning to ebb into the tempting darkness when the branch rolled over again and brought him back to the surface. Choking and spitting he clung to it, with water churning along on either side of him. He could not see the bank. He tried to haul himself further out of the water, but his sodden fur was too heavy and his limbs were growing stiff with cold. He did not know how long he could hold on.

Just as he felt that he was about to let go, something brought the branch to a jarring stop. It shuddered along its whole length, almost throwing Icefire off. As he clung on desperately, he heard a cat screech his name. Twisting his head, he saw that the other end of the branch was jammed against a rock that jutted out into the stream.

Fogtail was crouched on the rock, leaning down toward him. "Move, kittypet!" he growled.

With the last drop of his energy, Icefire scrambled along the length of the branch. Twigs whipped across his face. He felt the branch lurch again and flung himself at the rock, his front paws scraping at it while hind legs thrust through the water. His paws had barely touched stone when the branch was swept away from underneath him.

For a heartbeat Icefire thought he would follow it. The rock was smooth; there was no purchase for his paws. Then Fogtail reached down and Icefire felt his teeth meet in the scruff of his neck. With the other cat's help he managed to claw his way upward until he was crouching on the top of the rock. Shivering, he coughed up several mouthfuls of stream water before he looked up. "Thanks, Fogtail'' he gasped

Fogtail seemed in a trance for a moment then looked away "It was nothing"

Tiger-roar padded up behind from the rock. "Are you hurt?" he demanded, "Can you walk?"

"I..I'll live" he groaned. He felt a paw hit his side. He saw the tortie molly from before but there was a tortie tom at her side. They must be related.

"Danger" the molly said

"Rapids help" the tortie tom added

Icefire felt confused but the memory of saving Pikekit and Perchkit ran through his mind. "Apprentices" Goosefeather's voice yowled.

"Icefire?" he felt Fogtail nudge him

"Others are in danger" he replied standing up with a jolt

"What?" Fogtail said in confusion

"How would you know kittypet?" Chestnutclaw sneered

Icefire narrowed his eyes "I just know listen"

The sound of distressed yowls became audible then went down a little but then became higher. "Help!" That was Ebonypaw

"Someone please!" Lightpaw yowled

"Move" Icefire hissed

Chestnutclaw growled "I'm not-"

"My kits are in danger" Tiger-roar stormed past heading to the sound of the voices. Icefire followed the mighty tabby as did Fogtail, he didn't care to see if Chestnutclaw was following. He wouldn't be surprised if Chestnutclaw had tried to have him killed, which would make it easier to be there for the kits.

He nearly crashed into Tiger-roar when the deputy had stopped dead. He looked over to the side, he saw flashes of fur. He didn't think, he acted. He jumped in with reckless abandon, he saw Ebonypaw thrashing in the water. He fought against the rapids as best as he could. He saw the apprentice's head go under and dived down. He remembered his training from Riverclan and kept his eyes open.

He bit into the black apprentice's scruff. He didn't cough as he came to the surface, that would mean letting go. He did his best to swim back but the tide was trying to swallow him. He felt something hit his head and realized it was a stick being held by Fogtail.

"Ebonypaw bite into me and don't let go" Ebonypaw didn't argue. Icefire didn't flinch as he felt the sharp sting of teeth fastening into his flesh, he felt numb to the pain. He wrapped one arm around the black apprentice and fastened his jaw onto the stick and gripped it with his free paw.

Fogtail snapped his head to the side, moving the stick faster until it neared dry land. Icefire pulled himself a few inches onto the ground before falling. Ebonypaw fell into her side, coughing up water then panting. Icefire quickly got up, he nudged the apprentice "Who else?"

"O..wl...Li..ght..P..Pounce..H...Hawk..Ch..ive '' Ebonypaw stammered. Tiger-roar pulled Ebonypaw close to him, licking her ferociously. The dual colored tabby's fur was dripping wet which told Icebelly that he had been in the waves as well but didn't have any luck.

Icefire knew in his gut that cats would die, he wondered if Ebonypaw realized he couldn't save them all. Even if most of the clan was here, they had to think smart and know that the rapids were dangerous.

Icefire dashed back in, fighting with his might looking for the other apprentices. "Icefire over there!" Fogtail yowled

He turned his head and saw Lightpaw clinging to a rock. He pushed against the waves, he felt a wave swallow him for a moment, he quickly went back to the surface. He nearly smashed into the rock Lightpaw was clinging on.

"Come!" He scowled to the apprentice

Lightpaw was frozen, the waves lapping at her white fur. Her eyes closed and her breathing was ragged. Icefire had no time for Lightpaw's trance. He grabbed the apprentice's scruff and made his way back to the ledge. He was almost there when he felt his limp leg caught in something, it was sharp as a thorn. He wanted to yowl in anger but he wasn't going to let Lightpaw die, seeing Redtail looking off only fueled that.

He ignored the sharp pain as it dug deeper into his flesh. He tossed Lightpaw to the side. He fell with a thump, his energy draining, he smelled blood.

"Where are the others! I told Chestnutclaw to get help!" Fogtail mewed as he licked Icefire's injured leg. He saw Tiger-roar toss Chivepaw to the side.

Icefire panted, he wanted to let sleep take him but the tortie molly's stare made him shut it away. The molly said nothing but pointed her head to the right.

Icefire turned his head to see Hawkpaw, Pouncepaw, and Stagpaw climbing a tree but he froze in horror when he saw two figures on the branch, it took him a moment to realize it was Nutwhisker and Mudfoot, he saw another figure but couldn't see clearly who it was, the figure however grabbed Pouncepaw by his scruff and toss him but the apprentice didn't hit the waves but the rocks close by, the crack of bone rang through almost over taking the sound of rushing water.

"NO!" Icefire screeched

"Fox-heart!" Sandstorm's yowl cracked through as a patrol came over, Ebonypaw leading.

The last thing Icefire heard before blacking out was Hawkpaw and Stagpaw's yowl of help.

Raveneye sat close to Icefire but was close enough to hear Sandstorm hiss as Thymeroot placed more cobwebs on her wounds. "You did well sis"

"Should've killed them," Sandstorm muttered. Raveneye glanced at Lightpaw, she was awake but her face said all her emotions, grief.

"You almost fell into the water, '' Raveneye said, as he laid a tail on her shoulder. He could practically feel his clanamte's anger and grief. He felt worry for Icefire but hot anger for those rouges. If it hadn't been for Ebonypaw's quick action Hawkpaw wouldn't have survived. Stagpaw had fallen in and drowned. He was so proud of his apprentice and he made her aware of that despite what happened.

It wasn't when Voletail played with prey before he killed it, innocent cats died but then again, it wasn't the first time he watched a cat die and could do nothing to stop it. It felt like Redtail's eyes were on him still.

"Would've been worth it" Sandstorm growled "I lost Redtail and now I lost Pouncepaw"

Thymeroot met Sandstorm's eyes "Redtail wouldn't have wanted you to have died too"

Sandstorm tried standing "I was supposed to protect him, they only reason we know it was those rouges was because of Icefire"

"You did all you could, you didn't predict this Sandstorm" Raveneye mewed, easing her back down.

Sandstorm didn't reply but she didn't need to. Thymeroot finished her treatment and let Sandstorm stand.

Good timing because Bluestar called a meeting. Sandstorm and Raveneye padded out of the den with Thymeroot and Lightpaw following. Sandstorm sat close to the center with Dustpelt and Chestnutclaw.

The clan was gathered, Pouncepaw and Stagpaw's bodies laid close near the high rock with Nutwhisker in the center, bleeding from the back of the head and shoulders from Sandstorm.

"Thunderclan we have the loss of two cats taken way too soon" Bluestar said grimly, she narrowed her eyes at Nutwhisker "Their murder aided by this cat you see before you"

"Little roaches it was easy" Nutwhisker purred

"You killed apprentices" Dustpelt hissed "My apprentice did nothing to deserve death"

"He was little stick easy to toss"

Dustpelt and Sandstorm had to be held back by Chestnutclaw and Leopardstorm. Lightpaw cried once more with Amberpaw and Marigoldpaw pulling her close.

"Bluestar, should we alert Marshstar?" Miststrike asked "He was a Shadowclan cat"

"Nutwhisker is nothing but a rogue" Tiger-roar stated

"He should be treated like one" Nightshade added

'Takes one to know one' Raveneye thought, he felt Icefire rub against him "Let the blood flow" they murmured

Sandstorm launched herself at Nutwhisker "Let's give Marshstar a corpse"

Icefire chuckled weakly as Cloudpaw pinned him. It had been a few days when his kits made their choice:

-Flashback-

It had been a day after they gave Nutwhisker's body to Shadowclan to deal with, well what was left from the body when Sandstorm had been done with him. Marshstar said they dealt with it in accordance to Shadowclan law.

It was the day where his kits decided if they wanted to stay in Thunderclan or move to Shadowclan permanently.

Honestly this brought him joy rather than the anger he'd been feeling when he'd been constantly fighting with Chestnutclaw over the custody of the kits, Icefire wasn't deemed a danger he could be around his kits more. Chestnutclaw disagreed and Icefire really wanted to fuck up his face, not that he really could since his leg was still fucked, if it wasn't before it is now. Thymeroot said he'd been lucky to keep the feeling in the leg if he didn't slow down.

Icefire gasped in shock when he first saw Cloudkit "What happened to him?"

"We're not to sure ourselves, at first we thought he got into some dye but his fur started to turn black in some places" Badgerfang admitted

"I like it" Cloudkit purred

"Enough of that" Marshstar said, jumping onto a tree stump "Time to chose kits, go to Icefire if you want Thunderclan and go to Fernshade if you want Shadowclan"

Cloudkit was the first to choose, he padded over to him and nuzzled his foreleg "How's Ash, Fern, Tulip and Brindle?"

"They're fine, they miss you" Icefire mewed softly "I missed you so much my little cloud"

Cloudkit nuzzled in his belly fur deeper.

"I wanna stay in Shadow" Violetkit called from Fernshade's tail "I'm sorry"

"It's alright Violetkit, it's your choice"

"I'm staying too Papa" Flamekit added "Tell Shrike, Rosey, and Sunny I love them"

"Me too" Violetkit cut in

Icefire nodded, he turned to Bearkit "Bearkit?"

Bearkit rushed to Icefire "I wanna stay with you"

Icefire liked his daughter softly "Of course my little cub"

-Flashback ends-

The day afterward, the clan grew.

Maplekit and Aspenkit were apprenticed, Snowkit wasn't ready just yet and Mistlekit was staying to keep him company. Aspenpaw was apprenticed to Chestnutclaw and Maplepaw was apprenticed to Icefire himself. Wasn't too shocked, Bluestar did say she wanted him to train one of her kits.

A duel was had and Ebonypaw earned her warrior name in Ebonyshade after her aunt, Nightshade. Raveneye took his place in the medicine den, receiving more raven feathers and a white rose appeared for him at his ceremony according to him, for silence.

Cloudkit, Bearkit, Rosekit, Shrikekit, and Sunnykit were apprenticed along with Ashkit, Fernkit, and Tulipkit since they stalled if his kits came back. Fernpaw was apprentice to Darkstripe, Tulip-paw was apprenticed to Brackenfur, Rosepaw was apprenticed Dustpelt, Shrikepaw was apprentice to Leopardfoot, Sunnypaw was apprenticed to Frostbite, Bearpaw was apprenticed to Voletail, and Cloudpaw was apprenticed to Bluestar, no Icefire was not surprised.

What he was surprised about was Ashpaw's choice to become a medicine cat and Cloudpaw's path to be a Silverblood. He thought that being a Silverblood was being a warrior then becoming a medicine cat. Yellowfang said that was part of it, an apprentice can choose to be one.

Though he wasn't pleased with Voletail as his daughter's mentor, he trusted Bluestar's judgement.

He did have a time spitting at Seedspots when he saw her insulting Nettlemist just for asking how her day was by saying he was useless. Voletail wasn't any better bringing Embereyes to the point of tears. He chased both of them off with Amberpaw's help.

The clan didn't need this right now. Rosepaw, Owlpaw, Lynxpaw, Swiftpaw, and Petalpaw had also been taken by the flood. They found Owlpaw's corpse under a log and found Swiftpaw injured and soaked to the bone but alive. Goldenflower and Tiger-roar refused to let him out alone, Fogtail wasn't much better.

But they were still looking for Rosepaw, Lynxpaw, and Petalpaw's bodies.

Sandstorm had gone after Mudfoot and tried to find the other rogues without a second thought as soon as Bluestar allowed it. She had come back bloody but she did admit she came close but didn't kill him.

He heard Bluestar's mighty yowl and padded over. "With the flooding still present, only warriors may go to this gathering: Darkstripe, Leopardstorm, Seedspots, Mousefur, Brackenfur, Lichenstrike, Cinderfreeze, Sandstorm, Ebonyshade, Smokefur, Graystripe'' Bluestar dropped her gaze to rest on Icefire.

"Thymeroot Yellowfang, is Icefire fit?"

"Aside from his normal issues, he's fine" Thymeroot replied, her gaze more focused on Swiftpaw

Bluestar nodded "Then you may go"

Icefire was glad, he wanted to see how the flooding was affecting the rest of the clans.

"I don't see why a mentally ill cat should go represent Thunderclan" Seedspots whispered to Darkstripe

"Bluestar pities the kittypets and the broken cats" Voletail sneered "It's sad that we have to share prey with them"

Icefire tried to ignore the jabs as he followed after Raveneye, Ebonyshade, and Graystripe.

The sun had gone down, and twilight blurred the shapes of the forest. Bluestar took them straight through the trees to the place where the stream emerged from a hard stone tunnel underneath the Thunder-path, and Icefire wondered what his leader was planning to do. When they reached the tunnel, he saw that floodwater spread out on either side, reflecting the pale light of the rising moon. Water covered the Thunderpath as well, and as the cats watched they saw a monster pass by, moving slowly, throwing up a filthy wave from its round black paws.

Once the monster had disappeared into the distance, Bluestar led her cats to the water's edge on the hard surface of the Thunderpath. She sniffed the water, wrinkling her nose at the stench, and cautiously put one paw into the flood. "It's shallow enough here" she mewed "We can walk up the Thunderpath until we're on the other side of the stream, and get to Fourtrees along the border with Shadowclan"

Walk up the Thunderpath! Icefire felt his coat begin to prickle with fear at the thought of deliberately following the tracks of the monsters. Unlike in the city, the cars here were more reckless and he didn't forget Cinderfreeze's accident.

"What if a monster comes?" Graystripe asked, voicing Icefire's fear.

"We will keep to the side" Bluestar replied calmly "You saw how slowly that monster was moving. Maybe they don't like getting their paws wet"

Icefire saw that Graystripe still looked doubtful. He shared his lover's worries, but there was no point in protesting any more. Tiger-roar would just berate them for being cowards but with what happened to Rosepaw, Petalpaw, and Owlpaw maybe they should try their luck.

"Bluestar, wait" Leopardstorm called as his aunt waded into the water. "Remember how low our territory is on the other side of this stream? I can't help thinking it will be flooded there, too. I don't think we'll get to Fourtrees without going onto Shadowclan territory, which is higher"

The last thing Thunderclan needed was to get in a fight with Shadowclan, more than what happened a little while ago. Chestnutclaw had lead a patrol near the Shadowclan border and a fight broke out but no one had been hurt badly or killed.

Bluestar paused with water lapping over her paws, and looked back at Leopardstorm. "Maybe" she acknowledged, "but we'll have to risk it, if it's the only way"

She set off again without giving her cats any time to protest. There was nothing to do but follow. Icefire splashed along the edge of the Thunderpath just behind Leopardstorm, Tiger-roar brought up the rear to keep a lookout for monsters coming up from behind.

At first everything was quiet, except for a single monster traveling in the other direction on the opposite side of the Thunderpath. Then Icefire heard the familiar growling and the splash of an approaching car.

"Look out!" Tiger-roar yowled from the end of the line.

Icefire froze, pressing himself against the low wall that edged the Thunderpath as it crossed the stream. Darkstripe scrambled on top of it and crouched there, baring his teeth at the monster as it passed. Smokefur had pulled Cinderfrost to the side when the pointed gray cat had frozen up. For a moment it's strange, glittering colors were reflected in the stinking water, and a wave washed out from it, soaking Icefire as far as his belly fur.

Then it was gone, and Icefire could breathe again.

"Thanks Smoke" Cinderfreeze mewed

"No problem"

As they reached the other side of the stream Icefire could see that Leopardstorm was right. The low-lying land on the to-do but continued along the edge of the Thunderpath until the land rose and was dry enough to walk on.

Stepping thankfully off the paw-achingly hard Thunderpath, Icefire raised his head and opened his jaws. A strong, rank yet familiar stench filled his scent glands-the scent of Shadowclan! They followed the Thunderpath out of Thunderclan territory, and now a swath of Shadowclan land lay between them and Gathering at Fourtrees.

"We shouldn't be here" Brackenfur muttered uneasily. If Bluestar heard the comment, she ignored it, quickening the pace until they raced across the sodden turf. There were few trees hers, and the close-cropped grass offered no cover for trespassing cats. Icefire's heart was beating fast, and not only from the speed of their journey. If Shadowclan cats caught them, they would be in trouble, but Fourtrees was not far away, and their luck might hold.

Then he caught sight of a dark shadow streaking over the ground ahead of them, on a course to intercept Bluestar at the head of her patrol. More shadows followed, and a furious yowling split the quiet of the night.

For a heartbeat Bluestar quickened her pace, as if she thought she could outrun the challengers. Then she slowed to a stop. Her warriors did the same. Icefire stood panting: the shadows drew closer, and he saw that they were Shadowclan cats, headed by their leader, Marshstar.

"Bluestar!" she spat as she halted in front of the Thunderclan leader. "Why have you brought your cats into Shadowclan land?" Marshstar was tall enough to reach Bluestar's neck so it was somewhat easy for her to try to size Bluestar up. Marshstar had inherited Yellowfang's uncommon height as had Brokentail which had made him more frighting when he was still leader, and above him.

"In these times of floods, it was the only way to reach Fourtrees" Bluestar replied, her voice low and steady. "We mean no harm, Marshstar. You know there's a truce for the Gathering"

Marshstar hissed, her ears flattened against her head and her fur bristling. "The truce holds at Fourtrees" she snarled "There is no truce here"

Instinctively, Icefire dropped into a defensive crouch. The Shadowclan cats slipped silently into a semicircle around the smaller band from Thunderclan. Like Marshstar, their coats were bristling and their tails lashed in anger. Their hostile eyes reflected the cold light of the moon. Icefire knew that if it came to a fight, Thunderclan was hopelessly outnumbered.

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project-the-lycan · 4 years

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The Lycan: Chapter One: Discovery

Katie opened the door, breathing in the morning air. She smiled as her husky, Nellie, trotted out of her cabin, looking at her as her tail wagged. Together, they went into the forest straight ahead.

Katie Sparrows was a young woman, who had just moved into a cabin by the woods, seeking an easy and simple life. She’d call her family on the phone to have conversations and see how they’re doing. As she walked down the dirt trail, her dog trotted along, sniffing at bushes and trees as she passed. Although she was trained to walk without a leash, Katie always kept a close eye on her.

Nellie suddenly stopped in her tracks, sniffed the air and began to bark.

“What is it, girl?” Katie asked. Nellie sniffed around once more, then ran off the trail and into the dense part of the woods. “Nellie!” Katie exclaimed as she ran after her.

She tried not to trip on logs and roots as the bushes and twigs tugged at her clothing. She looked around, until she finally found her dog, who was sitting next to a large tangled bush, her wagging tail brushing up dirt. She looked up at her and whined softly.

“Don’t worry me like that, girl,” Katie sighed. She walked over to the bush until something caught her eye. A hand was visible from behind the bush. With curiosity, she carefully parted the bush, and froze at what she saw.

Laying on the ground was a man. Or was it a man? It looked human, but very off. He was unconscious and on his side, covered just about head-to-toe in dirt and small cuts. His skin was a dark charcoal color, and the only piece of clothing on him was a tattered pair of brown shorts. What was very striking was his long hair, which was a very dark blue and red. His ears were fluffy and pointed. This wasn’t a human.

Katie stared at the creature awed, then quietly stepped over the bush to get a closer look. She couldn’t believe what she was looking at.

“Hey,” she finally whispered. “You okay?” The creature curled up and groaned softly in response. “Hey!” Katie whispered again, this time reaching to touch his shoulder. She stopped however, when Nellie shot through the bush, barking loudly in a defensive manner.

Katie looked at her dog in alarm, then turned to see a large bear standing in front of them. Slowly, she backed away, and kneeled next to Nellie. The grizzly bear stared down at them, growling lowly. It then reared up on its hind legs and roared. As Katie, too terrified to scream, saw the bear raise a paw to strike, she held her dog close and screwed her eyes shut.

She braced herself, but the blow never came. In fact, it sounded like it had struck something, or someone else. She opened her eyes and slowly turned her head.

The creature stood between her and the bear. She saw blood steadily flowing down his right shoulder to the ground as he held it with one hand. He had taken the blow for her.

The creature’s glare held pain, but also some sort of wild and angry gleam. His gaze fixed on the bear, he growled. The bear lowered down on all fours as the two creatures began to circle eachother. The man lowered himself to the ground, planting both hands into the soil, on one knee. His growl became a vicious snarl, and the two hurled themselves at eachother.

They both clawed at eachother, wrestling eachother into the dirt. The bear broke free of the tangle and reared up once more, ready to slam both paws at its opponent. The wild man caught both paws, his shoulders flexed as he pushed against the animal’s weight.

The bear managed to push him to the ground, snapping its jaws at an attempt to bite into him. The humanoid being raked his claws down the bear’s face, kicking its underbelly repeatedly before finally biting deep into its shoulder. The grizzly bellowed as it pulled away from him, snarling as it fled into the woodlands.

Katie watched it all play out, frozen in shock. The man got up slowly, his back turned to her. He breathed heavily, grabbing his wounded shoulder once more. He took a step, then stumbled to the side. He lost his balance, and fell, his head hitting against a large rock. Everything went blurry around him, and his ears rung. As he struggled to keep his eyes open, he could hear the muffled shouting of a woman. He saw the blurred figure for a moment, before everything cut to black.

#The Lycan #Werewolf #Original #Writing #Story #OC

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razieltwelve · 5 years

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Scar (Final Rose)

"Come on, Chomp. It’ll be fine.” Li grinned. “We’re not going that far.”

The big dog looked about in concern and tugged on Li’s sleeve. The twins had wandered away from the campsite when their parents weren’t looking. He had tried to tell them to go back, but they had stubbornly pressed on. Now, they were a lot farther from the safety of the campsite than he would like.

“Maybe we should go back,” Alison said. “What if there are Grimm around?”

Li laughed. “There aren’t Grimm around. Our parents are here. There’s no way any of them will come around with them here.”

“But some Grimm are attracted to powerful Auras,” Alison replied. “And we’re just kids. If we get caught…”

“Stop worrying. There aren’t any -”

The loud howl that broke the air did not belong to a wolf. Chomp stiffened and immediately began to sniff the air and peered around. Where there was one Grimm, there were bound to be more. Alison and Li took one look at each other and then spoke together.

“We need to go back.”

The trio began to make their way back toward the campsite as quickly as they could, but the trip they’d made downhill was considerably tougher now that they had to go uphill. More howls rang out, and Chomp could just pick out the sound of movement behind them. The twins must have heard it too. Their hearts began to beat faster, and he could smell their fear.

They needed to go faster.

“Come on!” Alison said urgently. “We need to get back!”

“I’m going as fast as I can,” Li shot back. “I - ouch!”

The younger of the twins tripped on a mossy rock and tumbled to the ground.

“Li!” Alison cried.

“My ankle…” Li hissed in pain. “I hurt it.” She tried to stand, but Alison had to grab her to keep her from falling. “I don’t think I can walk on it.”

“I’ll help you. Come on.” Alison’s gaze darted back and forth. The sounds behind them were growing louder. “We need to get back.”

“Okay.” Li winced. “I’ll try.”

They continued to head back, but Chomp already knew how this was going to end. Even if Li hadn’t hurt herself, he doubted they’d have made it back to camp before being overtaken. Their only chance was to hope that the adults noticed them and found them before the Grimm did.

A dark shape burst out of the nearby trees. Chomp growled and leapt to meet it.

Chomp was the biggest dog in the neighbourhood by a considerable margin. But the Grimm was far bigger than even him. It was more than double his weight, and its claws and teeth were far better suited for combat than his. The only advantage Chomp had was that the Grimm wasn’t used to things jumping toward it.

He didn’t hesitate. As he and the Grimm tumbled across the ground, he lunged for its throat. The vile taste of Grimm blood filled his mouth as he tore the Grimm’s throat out. One of its claws raked his side, and he felt a twinge in his back as the Grimm drove him into the ground. At last, though, the Grimm fell still.

Chomp staggered back, muzzle bloody. The twins were staring at him and the dead Grimm in horror, but he dragged in several deep breaths and jerked his head in the direction of the campsite. They needed to keep moving.

They didn’t get far.

Another Grimm came. It was smaller than the previous one, but it was faster. Chomp managed to kill it too, but cracked several of his ribs, and his front right leg almost gave way beneath him from the pain after the Grimm bit it. He’d been lucky not to lose the limb entirely.

“Chomp…” Li whispered fearfully. “You’re hurt.”

The dog’s breath rattled in his chest, and his vision swam. The adults had to have noticed the twins were missing by now. They had to find them soon. He just had to keep them safe a little bit longer. Chomp was about to urge them to keep moving when another Grimm arrived.

This one was very, very big. It had to be more than twice the height of a person, and much of its body was covered in thick plates of bone. It had a vaguely lupine look to it, and there was a cruel wisdom in its gaze as it regarded the trio.

Slowly, haltingly, Chomp stepped forward. Gathering his strength, he bared his teeth and growled. The Grimm strode forward without so much a flinch, and Chomp did his best to shove aside the pain running through him. There was no way he was going to win this. All he could do now was play for time.

The Grimm lunged, and Chomp jerked back. The creature’s claws ripped into his right shoulder, and he spun, tossed aside by the sheer force of even a glancing blow. He hit a nearby tree - hard - and tumbled to the ground.

“Chomp!” Alison screamed.

The dog groaned and got back to his feet. The Grimm stepped toward the twins, and Chomp shambled forward. Mustering what strength he could, he leapt up and seized the Grimm’s arm in his jaws. His teeth latched onto one of the few places that wasn’t covered in bone, and Chomp bit down as hard as he could. He might as well have been biting on steel.

Two of his teeth cracked, and Chomp felt the air rush out of him, as the Grimm slammed its other claw into his chest. Blood bubbled out of his mouth as Chomp held onto the monster’s arm. With a savage jerk, the Grimm ripped him away, and Chomp felt several of his teeth tear out before he thudded back into the ground.

His ears rang, and he was vaguely aware of the twins screaming. Every part of him ached, and it would have been so easy to just lie down. But the twins needed him. They needed him, and he was still alive. Haltingly, he stood, and he bit the Grimm’s ankle, another spot that wasn’t covered in bony armour.

Thump.

It reached back, and Chomp sailed through the air as it tossed him aside. He scrambled back to his feet, instinct more than anything else, propelling him forward again.

The twins…

He’d promised to protect them…

One step after another. One breath at a time. Another growl left him. He was still alive, and as long as he was alive, that monster would not lay one hand on them.

The Grimm’s claws flashed down toward his head. He jerked away, but he wasn't quite fast enough to avoid the attack. The claws carved a path down the right side of his face, and he stumbled back. With a burst of desperate strength, he threw himself at the Grimm.

More than two hundred pounds of dog slammed into the Grimm. It wasn’t enough to knock the Grimm down, but it did throw the Grimm off balance. The creature roared in displeasure, and Chomp cried out as it threw him at a tree. The dog thumped into the tree, and Chomp felt something in his back give way.

He tried to get up, but his hind legs refused to cooperate. HIs back… he must have broken it. Instead, he dragged himself forward with his front legs. The Grimm glared balefully at him and raised it’s hand to deliver the finishing blow.

Chomp bared his teeth.

“You leave him alone!”

There was a flash of light, and a yellow comet smashed into the Grimm. The top half of its body exploded, and then Yang was there, ablaze with power. The blonde looked at the twins and Chomp, and it was only then that the dog allowed himself to surrender to the darkness.

X X X

Fraise was a qualified veterinarian, but she had never seen any animal survive the sort of damage Chomp had taken.

Three separate fractures in his spine.

Twelve cracked ribs.

A completely destroyed left lung and a partially pulverised right lung.

More than twenty fractures throughout the rest of his body.

More than ten other deep lacerations and puncture wounds.

Multiple broken or missing teeth.

It would been a miracle if he’d survived even a quarter of these injuries. To sustain all of them and live was not something she would have believed possible unless she’d witnessed it herself. It was fortunate that she could fix all of the damage with her Semblance even if it would take hours and hours of work. But Chomp deserved it. The twins had told everyone about how Chomp had defended them. The very least they could do was take care of him.

X X X

“Chomp!” Li cried as the dog finally opened his eyes.

“Quiet,” Alison hissed. She sniffled. “He’s just waking up.”

Li bit back a sob. “What about his face, Aunt Fraise? You said you took care of him, but he still has that… that…” She couldn’t finish her sentence.

Fraise sighed. “It will take multiple sessions to fix all of his injuries. I took care of the immediately fatal injuries. He will live. But trying to fix so much at once is risky.”

“Oh.”

“Rest assured, however, that I will take care of everything. Chomp will be fine.”

X X X

Author’s Notes

As has been mentioned in some snippets, Chomp eventually has scars running down the side of his face. This is how he got them. Fraise does offer to fix them, but Chomp makes it clear that he doesn’t want to get rid of them. Instead, he wears them proudly. Fraise did, however, fix the rest of his injuries.

If the twins and the adults dote on Chomp, it’s very much deserved. The only person more worried about Chomp than them was Fluffy, and the cat never admitted it although he did insist on staying at Chomp’s house until he was certain he was okay.

#final rose #fanfiction #alison #li #chomp #yang xiao long #fraise

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og-bbs-n-misfits-warriors-au · 5 years

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Chapter 14: Scar Faced Wolf

Stormstar skidded to a halt when he saw the destruction in front of him. The forest was set ablaze, while a twoleg nest crumbled before him. Flames engulfed the area as branches fell to the ground, spreading the fire more. There was no way they could stop a fire this big, but it didn’t appear to be heading towards Thunderclan. In fact, it appeared to be heading in the other direction. Stormstar was about to turn to leave, until he heard a familiar whine. He looked back to the twoleg nest and watched as a dog ran out of a dog door, franticly trying to tear the door off. Lionmane, Briarheart, and Critter raced out of the forest and to Stormstar’s side. “Help the dog!” Stormstar yowled, about to charge. A howl made him flinch and he turned to his left. A mangled wolf was holding a flaming branch, glaring at Stormstar. Scar… Scar tossed the branch by the house, then stalked towards Stormstar. “Help the dog, I’ll handle Scar,” Stormstar growled. The trio looked worried but obeyed and raced to the dog. Scar let out a low growl as he circled around Stormstar, his only good eye burning with hatred, reflecting the flames’ light. Stormstar snarled as he watched Scar, waiting. Time seemed to slow as the two old foes charged at one another, teeth bared and claws ready to kill. Both had one goal in mind: Kill the other.

Lionmane and Briarheart got to work tearing the door apart, trying to free whoever was trapped. They looked and saw Finchreef laying on a twoleg’s head. Finchreef looked close to death. Lionmane raced in, grabbing Finchreef’s scruff and started to drag him out while Briarheart and Critter tried to drag the twoleg out. The dog door was completely destroyed, giving enough room for the twoleg to get out. His scent was familiar to both warrior. “Braveheart…” Briarheart spoke softly, then watched as Jaren slowly opened his eyes while Octavia began to drag him out. The trio dragged Jaren beside Finchreef and watched as the twoleg nest completely collapsed, nothing more than a pile of burning wood.

Finchreef looked up at the sky, looking at the stars, “Shame…” Finchreef wheezed out, “The stars look beautiful tonight…and I can’t join them…” “Save your energy,” Lionmane spoke, “I don’t know why you did this, but you save Braveheart…”

“Remorse…” Finchreef coughed, smoke escaping his mouth. His eyes clouded over as they closed, “I…deserve this…” Finchreef coughed out.

Jaren gently laid a hand on Finchreef, gently rubbing his cheek. He watched as Finchreef took his final breath. “Thank you…” He whispered. He flinched at a loud howl as he looked over in time to see Stormstar getting thrown against a tree. Stormstar weakly stood up, snarling as he looked up at Scar, licking the blood of his muzzle. The gash in his head kept blood flowing onto his left eye. Scar snapped at Stormstar, trying to bite his neck. Stormstar retaliated with a single slash to Scar’s good eye, blinding the wolf. Scar snarled and shook his head while Stormstar began to move to the back side. Before Scar had a chance to react and spun around, Stormstar leaped onto Scar’s back, shredding both skin and fur. Blood soaked Stormstar’s paws as Scar tried to shake him off. He yowled in pain as scar bit down on his spine, shattering it and throwing Stormstar to the ground. He couldn’t move his back legs, struggling to roll over. Just as Scar was about to go for the killing blow, Octavia lunged at the wolf’s neck, ripping a good chunk off. In response, Scar Spun around and raked his claws deep into Octavia’s side, exposing muscle. “NO!” Jaren called, then threw a rock at Scar. Scar spun in the direction of Jaren and let out a low growl. “Shit…”

Just as Scar was about to charge, Stormstar sank his teeth and claws into his hind leg, making Scar howl in pain. “You leave my deputy alone,” Stormstar snarled. Scar kicked the injured leader back before turning to look. Stormstar looked to his left, noticing a branch, then back toward Jaren. Lionmane and Briarheart looked ready to join in, but one sharp glare from Stormstar told the two to not intervene. He now understood why Braveheart received his prophecy mere hours before the fire. It was time… Scar let out a snarl and charge, but Stormstar was faster. He used his claws to grab the branch and held it up. The next thing heard was a howl of pain and a dying whine. Blood began too pool around where Stormstar and Scar were as blood dripped from the branch. Scar twitched for a few seconds before a snap was heard and Scar’s limp body fell to the side. Lionmane and Briarheart had smiles as they watched the wolf fall dead, but those looks soon turned into looks of horror at the sight in front of them. Stormstar coughed up blood as he looked at his stomach. One half of the branch had pierced Scar’s heart, while the second half had pierced through his torso and out his back, into the ground, due to Scar’s weight.

“STORMSTAR!” Briarheart and Lionmane said in unison as they ran to their fallen leader. The sound of sirens could be heard wailing in the distance as Jaren looked in horror.

Stormstar let out a soft chuckle, “So this is how I lose my last life…” He mumbled, looking up to his warriors.

“We’ll get you help!” Briarheart said, panic in her voice.

“No herbs can heal that wound…” Critter spoke softly as tears formed.

Stormstar looked to Jaren, then to Critter, “I…give you permission to stay…at moonpool,” He meowed, then coughed up more blood. Critter slowly nodded her head as Stormstar looked to Jaren, “I…Was expecting…more time…but I guess…Starclan says otherwise…” He looked up to the stars, his vision fading slightly, “I…I’m coming…Swiftbreeze…wait for me…” Stormstar mumbled slightly. The pain slowly drifted away as he closed his eyes for the final time, his chest not moving and only a tiny bit of air escaping from his mouth. Jaren felt tears fall off his cheeks as he watched. He was gone…his leader was gone…

“S-Stormstar…” Jaren wheezed out, watching the flames surround them. The last thing he remembered was the sound of water spraying the trees.

#Warriors #Warrior Cats #BBS warriors au #Misfits Warriors au #Series 1: Origin #Book 4: Defending Ideals #SMii7Y #crittervolocity

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knowyourincantations · 5 years

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Minding the Wolf (Ginny/Pansy)

For Femslash February 2019 Day 6, using the prompt from this list, ‘The Moon’.

Ginny/Pansy | General Audiences | 1,043 words | EWE, Post-Hogwarts, Established Relationship, Full Moon, Werewolves, Werewolf!Pansy, Wolfsbane Potion

(AO3 Link | My Other FemslashFeb2019 works: AO3 | Tumblr)

Ginny kept her eyes closed as promised when the full moon rose and Pansy changed. She didn’t understand why Pansy insisted on it, but it was better than being kept away entirely. Pained groans turned into whimpers and whines, and then a wet nose bumped her hand.

When she opened her eyes and looked down, bright purple eyes framed with dark fur stared up at her. With a smile, she ruffled the fur between Pansy’s ears. She got her hand slobbered on in return.

“Yuck,” she muttered, dodging her tongue to try and scratch her behind the ears. “We talked about you slobbering on me!”

With a low growl, Pansy jumped up, placing her front legs over Ginny’s shoulders. Ginny staggered under the weight and closed her eyes to growl herself as Pansy licked all over her face.

“You don’t do much to convince me you’re not just a big puppy on the full moon,” she muttered as she pushed Pansy off her.

The improved wolfsbane may render her docile, but it did not take away the other behavioural aspects of being a werewolf.

With a disgruntled whine, Pansy sat on her feet, looking up at her with her ears back.

“You manipulative little...”

Ginny leaned down and rubbed her face against Pansy’s head until her ears pricked up again and she panted happily.

“Congratulations, I smell like you now,” Ginny muttered. “Ready to go outside?”

Pansy stood on her hind legs suddenly and towered over her.

Even knowing the potion blocked all violent instincts and impulses, Ginny’s heart skipped a beat and then thudded faster. Pansy padded over to the door, still upright. When she scratched at the door, Ginny shook herself and joined her. Pansy may look like a big hulking beast of fur and claws and teeth, but she really was more like a big puppy on the potion.

Instead of opening the door, Ginny reached up and grabbed Pansy behind the ears to drag her down to eye level. Bright purple eyes bored into her with a beyond-animal intelligence that contradicted the rest of her behaviour.

Ginny sometimes wished Pansy’s eyes were always purple and not just when the potion was in her system. It was such a striking shade.

“If I let you out, you have to stay in the backyard, understood?” she said seriously.

The last thing she needed was a mad chase through the woods behind their house to make sure Pansy didn’t scare any wandering muggles. One day, maybe, with enough planning and care, Pansy could run through the woods like she yearned to, but not yet.

Pansy huffed loudly, sending a gust of hot air over her face. She followed this with a whine and ears pressed flat against her head.

“I know, I know,” Ginny murmured, closing her eyes and pressing her forehead against the soft fur of Pansy’s head. “I hate keeping you locked up inside too, but I can’t risk you running off and scaring someone into hurting you, alright?”

It was probably a good thing Pansy never remembered clearly what happened while she was transformed on the potion. It was more like a blur, a side effect of the potion that hadn’t been fixed yet. Ginny knew she’d be so embarrassed by her animal behaviour she would probably refuse to see her at all simply because she had witnessed it.

“Backyard only,” she repeated, hoping the words got through the animal haze and reached the human awareness underneath.

There was a loud thumping against the floor and Ginny grinned. If it wouldn’t put Pansy in a huff she would tease her about that tomorrow. She loved when she got that tail wagging.

“Alright,” she said, letting her go and reaching for the door handle.

The thumping on the floor grew faster and Ginny was grinning by the time she opened the back door. For a moment, Pansy froze, then turned her face towards Ginny, ears pricked forward, barely breathing.

Ginny smiled. Big bad wolf indeed. “Go on then.”

Pansy was out the door so fast she scratched the floor.

“Stay inside the yard,” Ginny called out as she stepped out behind her.

Pansy loped around the yard, stopping and sniffing everything before looking up at the moon.

A howl split the air and Ginny shivered. The moon was so bright she didn’t bother taking out her wand, she could see Pansy clearly in the moonlight. She was a black blur that rushed around the garden only to stop and howl and then repeat the pattern again.

Ginny sat on the back step and watched her.

It was difficult to imagine a time when this had frightened her, when she’d nearly let it spoil them because of an ingrained fear that was hard to fight. Now, she found the full moons almost enjoyable. Before her, Pansy had been forced to lock herself inside and pine for the full moon. With Ginny, she could go out, secure in the knowledge Ginny would watch over her and keep her from revealing herself to anyone. Or if she couldn’t go out, would at least stay with her so she wasn’t alone. They had spent many a full moon in the sitting room, Pansy a heavy and warm weight draped over her lap as she read a book, one hand idly scratching behind her ears.

In the back left corner of the garden, there was a pile of leaves Ginny had raked that morning. With a sense of dread, she watched Pansy approach it. In a big flurry of leaves, all her work was spoiled. Pansy rolled in them and sent them flying with her tail swishing this way and that.

Ginny couldn’t help but chuckle from the sight. Pansy was blessed with thick fur after her transformation, it helped cover some of the more mangled parts of her body until she looked more like a wolf than something partly human. She really looked like a giant dog playing in the leaves.

Still, Ginny couldn’t wait to tell her to rake them up when she was recovered from the change one or two days from now. Pansy was sure to make an amusing expression when she learned she’d rolled around in a pile of leaves.

#ginsy #hprarepairnet #slytherdornet #femslashfeb2019 #hp femslash #hp wlw #ginny x pansy #pansy x ginny #ginny weasley #pansy parkinson #harry potter #my fanfic #*#wlw

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winniesycamore · 6 years

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the lion sleeps tonight // task eighteen

(tw: animal death by poison.)

You mussssssst find, battle, and kill a lion.

“That ain’t too hard,” Cricket replied, shrugging at the snake. She looked down to the sword that she’d strapped to her waist with some of her parachute fabric. Easy peasy. She wasn’t very happy to kill a lion, but it couldn’t be that hard, right? The snake looked her in the eyes again, grabbing her in its trance.

No weaponssssss.

No weapons? She was five feet tall, fourteen years old, could be blown over by a strong wind, maybe 95 pounds soaking wet. A lion would eat her for a light snack. The task already seemed impossible.

“That’s ssssstupid,” Cricket snapped back, mocking the creature. It glared at her again before turning its attention to another tribute.

Missy had her task too, and they took the time to make plans to meet up after they were done. It was a promise: a promise not to go get themselves killed. A promise to come back, to survive, to do what they had to do to keep going forward for the people they loved so much.

And that’s how Cricket found herself hiding in some shrubbery, watching a pride of lions wander through the Arena. They were huge. And the little ones were babies, and it didn’t matter if Cricket was going to get killed over it, she would never kill a baby anything. Gamemaker-invented or not.

Out of the corner of her eye, Cricket noticed a little rat. It was way too close to the lions to make any sense to her. It was almost as though it was naturally unafraid, like it’d been attacked by a lion before and knew how to defend itself. It’d only been in the Arena for a few hours, and yet, it was starting to figure it out. It adapted, just like Cricket did.

As the rat hurried to a small thicket of trees, Cricket followed it, watching carefully. Cricket watched the small rodent nibble at the edges of a plant before licking at its hind feet. It did it repeatedly, almost as if it had a plan. Could rats make plans? Probably not.

The rat covered itself in the tree’s sap and then hurried over to cross near the pack of lions. Intrigued, Cricket followed it, taking solace behind a bush to watch what it was going to do next. As the rat hurried across the plain, one of the smaller lions pounced on it. It took a bite into the rat’s hindquarters, and Cricket flinched. But something amazed her.

The lion recoiled. It stepped back, horrified. And a few minutes later, it dropped to the ground. Dead.

“Poison,” Cricket whispered, looking from the rat, scurrying away unharmed, back to the dead lion. “It used the poison. It learned how to adapt, just like me.” Her heart beat a little faster. She still didn’t want to kill a lion, but this was a lot better than trying to bite it’s throat, which was the only option Cricket had.

Moving over to the same tree, Cricket scraped her sword along it, shaving bark from the tree. It was a tree she’d never seen before, but one that he She collected it in her little parachute pouch, focusing intently on gathering as much bark as she could. She’d probably get hurt in the process, but this was better than not trying at all. The Lowrys never had pets of their own, but she still hated causing harm to an animal. Even though the Gamemakers had made it up with a big, fancy computer. It still felt real.

Cricket crept toward the pride of lions and watched as one female lion wandered away. She’d been watching long enough to know this one didn’t have cubs, and it was small enough to be killed by the poison like the other lion she saw, not just get wounded by it. It was her best shot.

It was all a blur. In hindsight, she was so blinded by fear she hardly remembered what had happened. She’d hurried over, but the lion had spotted her and swatted out with one paw, smacking Cricket in the back, piercing her with her sharp claws. She’d hopped over and leapt around the lion, confusing it as she engaged in a weapon free battle. And finally, she’d gotten in the space to plunge her hand into its mouth, pushing the bark as far in as she could before retracting her hand, the lion’s teeth raking hard against her injured arm.

In hindsight, it was incredibly stupid. But Cricket had other things on her mind.

She took off running, holding her injured arm close to her as the lion pursued her. But as the poison started to affect it, its movements slowed and Cricket slowed with it. And then she was there, bleeding from the arm and the back, and staring at a beautiful creature that she’d hurt. In that moment, it didn’t matter that it was made by Gamemakers, like Nova, with computers in front of them. In fact, she wasn’t sure she could look Nova in the eyes after this. After Nova was one of the people who made her do this.

Nova said she was going to try. That she was going to do everything that she could to help. But she didn’t, if she was going to sit there and watch while Cricket killed a lion. While she programmed creatures to attack her. It was sick. Even though Cricket knew that Nova couldn’t put her job in jeopardy, that she couldn’t send her a gift or a sign that she’d be okay, Nova was still her friend.

Cricket prayed that Nova hadn’t changed. That she was still against this.

“I’m real sorry,” Cricket whispered, patting the lion’s fur softly. It moaned a little and she leaned against it, snuggling up close. “They made me do it. That snake said I’d die if I didn’t, and I’d use the sword to help you out, but it said I ain’t allowed to use my weapons. It’s real mean,” she added, leaning her head against its flank. “It’s real, real, mean. They’re mean.” She felt the tears prick her eyes and leaned heavy against the slowly fading animal, burying her face in its fur as she cried. “They’re so mean.”

She relaxed against its pelt, feeling its breath slow. “Once there was a big lion in a forest,” she began, remembering the stories Nova had told her out by the campfire. Maybe it would remind her, when she got to watch, where she came from. Where her roots were. Just in case she’d forgotten.

“And a little mouse was runnin’ along. The lion hit the mouse with its paw, and the mouse was scared. He said that if the lion let him go, then the mouse would pay him back with a favour someday. The lion thought this was real funny, so he let the mouse go.” The lion was quiet, its breath coming in small bursts. Cricket stroked her paw and gave it a little kiss.

Cricket continued. “A few days later, the lion got trapped by some mean hunters. It was trapped under a whole bunch of ropes. But the mouse came along, and it used its teeth to nibble through all those ropes. The lion was so surprised to see the mouse, but the mouse smiled and just said you laughed when I said I would repay you, but now you see that even a mouse can help a lion.” She wrapped her arms around the lion as it took a stuttering breath.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, softly into its ear. “I promise I’m gonna make your death worth somethin’. I promise, promise, promise.” She hummed quietly, a song she’d heard many times before around the campfire, rebels trading old songs from a world Cricket wished she’d known. After the lion took its last breath, the task completed, Cricket looked down at her re-opened and bloody wound. Her own lionheart could deal with that later, she mused, as she curled up into the side of the lion, letting its size and safety protect her until Missy found her again. Another one of the spiky rats scurried by, and Cricket swore it looked at her before it continued along its path.

She hummed to herself as she closed her eyes to sleep.

Hush, my darling, don’t fear, my darling, the lion sleeps tonight.

#tw: animal death #tw: poison #ruleandtask #cricket has a way of figuring out creative ways to do things #so this was not nearly as bad as it could've been #i wanted to get this over with so now it's done and i can breathe again #(yes i gave the snake a snake voice how could i not)

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emordnilap-fr · 6 years

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Running

He ran.

The wind brushing his body, the ground firmly beneath his claws, his packmates running all around him in what felt like a constantly improvised dance, he ran. This was life, day in and day out. The ideal life for any packborn mirror.

By the time the sun began to set and the pack slowed to make camp for the night, Spiegel’s breath was rasping and quick, the cold air clouding around him. They’d been running for days, only stopping to hunt and eat before taking off once more. Now, however, many of the pack’s members were growing tired, so they would stop and rest for a few days until they could head further west.

Spiegel came to a halt near a spindly pine, leaning against it to catch his breath as he looked among his gathering packmates. Some splintered off into small family groups, while others wandered into the brambles to hunt. Yet others gathered together to talk, and more started collecting materials to build quick makeshift shelters. He arched his back in a long stretch, relishing the feeling of his cracking joints and relaxing muscles. His mouth opened in a wide yawn, and he sat for a minute, enjoying a moment’s rest.

Soon enough, he stood back up and joined the dragons who’d gone to gather building materials. His packmates disappeared behind him, though he could still faintly make out their heat signatures, even from this distance. The thick, shadowy fog hardly obscured his vision, and he quickly managed to grab a large amount of branches, tucking them under his wings.

He began to make his way back to the pack, when a faint whispering reached his ear. Twisting his head around, he looked for the source of the sound, but the indecipherable whispers seemed to echo from all around. Until, a few metres away, a small blue light lit up. Shaped much like the flame of a candle, it danced between a pair of trees, more little blue shapes appearing in a path behind it, winding deeper into the brambles.

Spiegel frowned, a slight sneer on his face as he spat, “Ah, just you lot. Fuck off, I’m not falling for your tricks again.” He’d learned not to trust the voices and wisps of Imp’s Hollow long ago.

Shaking off the feeling of unease brought about by the Hollow’s tricks, he trotted back to the pack’s campsite, choosing a small cluster of rail-thin pines as the base for his shelter. Tossing down his assortment of twigs and branches, he got to work, quickly weaving the branches together into a thick, sturdy den. He threw his body against it, nodding when it didn’t budge, then crawled inside.

He peered out of his den, head on his paws. Most of the other mirrors had built their own dens as well, their small family units huddled inside against the cold. Unlike his packmates, he was alone. Always had been. But he didn’t mind.

He let his eyes relax, beginning to fall asleep. All that stayed on his mind was a quick consideration of what he’d eat come morning, before he slipped into unconsciousness.

“Wendigo! Everyone up! Wendigo!”

Spiegel jolted awake to the alarm call and roars echoing throughout the hollow. One sounded distinctly non-dragon, and massive. He could hear wood splinter and crack as something crashed through them, panicked yelps and roars and snarls sounding everywhere from his packmates. Instantly alert, he scrambled to his feet and fled his den just as a huge clawed paw crashed down on it, sending splinters everywhere.

He turned to see what stood behind him, and stopped in shock and fear. A wendigo, larger than any he’d glimpsed before, stood over the remains of his den. It seemed even larger than those in old myths, at least half the length of an imperial, its gnarled antlers reaching into the trees. It opened its mouth to roar at Spiegel, snapping him out of his shock and sending him running just in time to dodge the wendigo’s claws coming down where he’d stood.

Everything was chaos. What was usually dance-like running was now terrified, panicked scrambling. The pack’s leaders tried to give orders over the din, but the screeches and yells of the rest of the pack drowned out their voices. Those that could hear them obeyed, doing what they could to get their packmates’ attention without falling to the wendigo’s attacks. Spiegel could hear the leaders, constantly moving around the wendigo as the pack gradually reformed, working together to confuse the beast and push it into a more open area.

The wendigo lashed out, nearly managing to catch some dragons, missing by only a fae’s clawlength. The pack managed to herd it into a small clearing where they rushed in, clawed at its side, and ducked away before it could attack. It grew angrier by the minute, its attacks growing erratic and more dangerous. Spiegel tried to keep his distance, only attempting to attack from behind. He was doing well, having dug his claws deep into its hide, staining his paws a deep red that smeared on the frost-covered ground.

Suddenly, the wendigo turned towards him unexpectedly. He scrabbled against the grass in an attempt to stop and turn, wings spread, but the frost kept him from getting a good grip as the wendigo brought its claws onto him. He shrieked in pain as it tore and cracked through his left wing, raking into his shoulder, arm, and side, and crushing his hind leg before flinging him away like a hatchling’s ragdoll.

A sickening crack sounded as his head hit the ground, and the world turned black.

It was dark.

The first thing Spiegel became aware of was the cold. The numbness of his toes, the stinging of each frosty breath.

Then came the pain.

It started off dull, a weak pain in his head and jaw. Then it began to grow, a sharp, stabbing pain running down his side and taking hold of his left wing and hind left leg. His left arm twitched, more pain emanating from his forearm and fin. Every breath shot a jolt of pain into him, forcing his breath into shallow rapidity. He let out a weak whine, grinding his teeth against the massive amount of pain.

He lifted his head, almost crying out as he did so, and tried his best to look around. In his attempt, he first realised he couldn’t see from his front left eye, only seeing half a heat signature. The next thing he realised, was that it was now night.

And that he was alone.

His pack had left him behind, likely assuming he was dead. Blood was sprayed all over the ground and trees, and across the clearing, Spiegel could see two more bodies. He shut his functioning eyes at the sight, then turned to look at himself.

It was... rather terrible, to say the least. His jaw felt broken, and he could feel a large gash going from the top of his head, across his face, and down over his jaw. His left wing was crumpled and twisted awkwardly over his back, dislocated. The forearm part of it was crooked, and several of the fingers were cracked. The membrane was destroyed, completely torn through from the arm to its edge in multiple places. The fin of his left arm was mostly torn off, only the part closest to his paw remaining. A deep gash in his shoulder throbbed, still leaking blood. More wounds crossed his ribs, side, and flank, jagged and swollen. It felt like at least a few ribs were cracked. His hind leg was utterly broken, all the way from the hip down. The hip bone was obviously broken, misshapen above the leg. Each joint looked off, and the bones were all shattered, bending in places they shouldn’t and poking out from his skin. Even his foot was ruined, three claws ripped out and the bones broken.

Below him, the grass was stained crimson. Frost had begun to build on his blood, both that on the ground and on his skin. It had kept his wounds from bleeding out, though he still felt extremely weak from the blood he had lost. He gathered a small amount of strength and blew faint Shadow magic over his wounds, the fog coagulating the exposed wounds. Hopefully, they would scab over and heal easier now... If there was one thing he knew, it was that open wounds could, and would, kill a lone mirror.

He also knew that staying out in the open, wounded and bloody and among other dead dragons, he would be an easy target for any predator. He needed to move, and soon. The thought made him cringe more than his current state. I couldn’t have just died, eh? This is going to be hell...

Gritting his teeth in an attempt to prepare for even more pain, he slowly began to tense the muscles in his uninjured limbs. Just that small movement caused pain to shoot through him, and he paused. His breath shuddered, and he pushed himself upwards. A strangled cry came from him as the bones in his mangled leg shifted and ground together, as his ruined wing flipped over to hang by his side, smacking the harsh gashes all along his flank. Bile rose in his throat and he retched, both from the pain and what must have been a concussion, the spasms and coughs of his vomiting jolting his injuries ever more. He felt some of the wounds reopen, a thin trickle of blood rolling down his side.

It was nigh unbearable, the pain nearly forcing him back to the ground. He wasn’t built for this. He was built to run, for small-scale hunting, to build and calculate and think. He wasn’t meant to fight, wasn’t meant to be able to take such grievous injuries like his Plague-born packmates.

He stayed crouched for a good while, slowly feeling the throbbing pain ebb into a more tolerable state. Soon enough, he reached his head around to his injured wing, popping the limb back into place with a pitiful whine. At least now he could hold it slightly away from his larger wounds… Deep purple fog poured from his mouth, resealing his worse injuries.

Taking a deep breath, he slowly began to walk, his ruined leg dragging behind him. It was slow moving, and he retched until nothing left would come and then some, but he kept going forward. He knew he was lucky to have survived, and he knew he needed to keep surviving. And if staying alive meant pushing through the pain of his wounds, then by the Shadowbinder, he was going to do it.

How long had he been walking?

He didn’t know.

It had been days, weeks perhaps. Long enough for some of his bones to begin to heal, before infection had set in. His weak Shadow magic wasn’t enough to stave off infection, and he could only watch as his wounds grew red and angry, pus oozing out of them. Each morning he would wake to the same pain, to frost encroaching on his injuries, to an increasing numbness to the cold and his dire situation.

Now, he continued to walk, but he was weak. His pace was slower than ever, each step shakier than a newborn pup’s. He shivered against the cold, his hot, sick breath clouding the air in front of him. The ground was covered in a thickening layer of snow, more flakes carried by the howling wind. Each one stung as it hit his body, chilling him to the bone. He was tired. So, so tired...

Eventually, near a thick pine tree, he stopped.

I can’t do this. I can’t, I can’t…

He collapsed beside the tree, ice building on his body, not even bothering to growl at the intense pain caused by the action. His primal instincts screamed at him to keep going, to survive. That’s what a mirror does, survive. But he just couldn’t. The pain, the sickness, the cold, the tiredness of it all… He’d survived this long, and for what? To die anyway. So why, he thought, should he bother?

He closed his eyes, shaking, and let the darkness of sleep come, waiting for death to claim him.

Blurriness. The feeling of being lifted pervaded everything, though he was too bleary-minded to process it. The pain had gone, and he felt… warm…

Spiegel’s eyes fluttered just open enough for his eyes to somewhat focus on what was in front of him. A large, worried face. A guardian, female, the color of the snow.

He heard her mumble something - or was the sound just muffled? he didn’t know - before slipping back into unconsciousness.

His eyes blinked open. Everything was blurry, before slowly coming into focus. He was no longer cold, out in the snow, but warm, and somewhere he’d never seen before. Black pine-log walls surrounded him, dim yellow candles lighting the cozy den. A burst of panic filled him, not knowing just where he was, but something told him he’d be safe.

He shifted slightly, warily, surprised to find that his body didn’t hurt as much as before. He felt… stronger. Was… was the sickness gone? What had happened?

As he started to shift a bit more, trying to prop himself up so he could see the rest of the den, Spiegel felt a gentle touch on his uninjured neck, and he quickly twisted his head around to look for the source of the touch. It was the guardian from before, but he could see her clearly now. She smiled at him, and used her large paw to softly prod him back into a laying position. Once Spiegel was back down, relaxed, she said, “Ahh, you’re finally awake. You’ve been out of it for a few days, you’re lucky I found you out there.”

The guardian sat down beside him, seemingly checking on his injuries. “So, you have a name?”

Spiegel opened his mouth to answer, but coughed instead, his throat not used to talking. He flinched as he racked his healing wounds, but was relieved when the pain was nowhere near the level he’d last felt. He tried again. “Mm. Spiegel. You?”

“Synnefoula, feel free to call me Sinna though.” She sat back, assured that Spiegel’s wounds were healing. “You’re healing up well. What even happened to you, get in a fight with an imperial?”

He shook his head. “Wendigo attack.”

Sinna grimaced, and Spiegel regarded her with a tilt of his head. “Sorry, I’ve never seen the… results of a wendigo attack. Shade, I don’t think I’ve even seen more than one wendigo in my life.”

He nodded, leaving Sinna half-smiling awkwardly at him. She seemed to realise something, eyes widening suddenly, and she stood up quickly. “Oh! Are you hungry? We have some- oh who am I kidding of course you are, you’re a mirror who hasn’t eaten in days at the least, I’ll just grab you something real quick, you stay there and don’t try to move okay? Okay, okay I’ll be back in a minute!” Spiegel had hardly opened his mouth to answer her first question before she’d rushed out of the den, leaving him alone with the flickering blue candles.

He sighed, and laid his head down on his paws. That guardian sure did talk a lot, but he didn’t quite mind. She’d saved his life after all, better than what his own pack had done. His eyes slowly blinked closed as he waited for her to return with a meal.

#my lore #c: Spiegel #c: Synnefoula #tw death #tw gore #long post

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splendidlyimperfect · 4 years

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Six months after Jaskier leaves Geralt on the mountain, he finds another white wolf.

Chapter Summary: Jaskier finds the werewolf, and Geralt finds his memories.

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 Fandom: The Witcher Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Relationships: Geralt/Jaskier Characters: Geralt, Jaskier, Yennefer Tags: canon divergence, animal transformation, post ep6 fix-it (sort of), magic, wolf!geralt, bamf!jaskier, lots of fluff but also some angst

Inspired by this gorgeous art by @kayivy

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It’s definitely a werewolf.

“Son of a bitch,” Jaskier hisses as he ducks behind a ruined piece of the barn, reloading his crossbow as quickly as possible. Geralt, who is crouched behind him and growling softly, sniffs his arm where it’s bleeding shallowly.

“I’m fine,” Jaskier reassures him in a soft whisper. “It barely nicked me.” Geralt whines in disagreement and licks at the wound, then headbutts Jaskier gently.

Jaskier peeks around the shattered wall he’s hiding behind, keeping his breathing as quiet as possible as he scans the darkened rubble. Dagond the farmer, who had been completely useless on Geralt’s whereabouts, had directed Jaskier up the hill to this lovely derelict building where he’d counted himself lucky to find only one werewolf.

“I’ve only got one left after this,” Jaskier murmurs, running his fingers along the silver bolt in the crossbow. When Geralt whines at him, he sighs. “Look, I wasn’t planning on fighting werewolves, was I? This really isn’t my job – stupid Geralt and his stupid…” He trails off when Geralt tilts his head. “Not you, the other one.”

Continue reading on AO3

There’s a low snarl from the other side of the building and Jaskier quickly pulls back, motioning for Geralt to be silent as he shifts onto his knees. He’s still not the most competent with a crossbow – before he’d met Geralt he’d never even held one, but he’s used it a few times now, especially for hunting. Never for killing monsters, though.

Jaskier closes his eyes, exhaling quietly and trying to focus on the sound of the werewolf moving on the other side of the room. It’s huge – nearly eight feet tall, with teeth longer than wolf Geralt’s and claws that are razor-sharp, if the wound in Jaskier’s arm is anything to go by.

A wooden beam on the other side of the room snaps and Jaskier’s eyes fly open, tracking the bright, full moonlight across the room and catching the edge of a shadow.

“Gotcha,” he hisses, pushing himself up from the crouch and taking aim, then loosing the bolt and praying it hits. He grins and looks down proudly at Geralt at the wet, squelching sound of the bolt sinking into the werewolf’s fur, but the smile quickly turns sour when the beast lets out an ear-splitting roar.

“I think we just made it angry!” Jaskier yelps, ducking a piece of debris that’s thrown their way and gesturing for Geralt to follow him through the hole in the wall and around the back of the building. Several abandoned farm implements in various stages of disuse are strewn here, and Jaskier quickly hops over the rusted pieces, scanning the area for anywhere to hide. Not that it’ll be much use – the werewolf can smell them, and the only way Jaskier’s going to take it down is with another crossbow bolt, or the silver knife strapped to his calf. He’d really rather not get close enough to use that, though.

The wall behind them explodes out in a shower of splinters and rusted nails, and Jaskier curses when he trips and stumbles to his knees, dropping the silver bolt. The werewolf snarls at him, backlit by the bright white light of the moon, and Jaskier’s stomach fills with a cold, tight dread.

How the fuck did I manage to end up here? he curses, scrambling backward and feeling around for the crossbow bolt. The werewolf stalks toward him, teeth bared in a snarl, eyes wide and red. It lunges toward Jaskier and he reaches quickly for his dagger, but the werewolf never touches him. Instead, a deep growl is followed by a large, white body, and Geralt throws himself at the beast, knocking it backward and going for its throat.

“Be careful!” Jaskier shouts, pushing himself up and looking around for the bolt. It’s nowhere to be seen and he tosses the crossbow down in frustration, drawing both his sword and the dagger.

Geralt snarls, teeth sinking into the werewolf’s shoulder, and a chilling howl fills the air as blood starts to stain Geralt’s muzzle. The werewolf shakes his head, then grabs at Geralt’s neck with its unsettlingly humanoid hands, raking its claws down his back. Geralt yelps in pain, letting go of the werewolf’s neck and kicking at it with his hind paws.

“Let him go!” Jaskier shouts, charging forward and ducking behind the beast. He drives his sword into its left leg, earning himself a pained roar. It has the intended effect, though, and the werewolf lets go of Geralt, throwing him away and turning to face Jaskier. “There you go, you ugly beast,” Jaskier says, panting with exertion and adrenaline. “C’mon, let’s see what you’ve got.”

Geralt growls in pain, pushing away the searing ache along his back and stumbling to his feet. The werewolf’s claws tore through his fur, and he can feel himself bleeding, bright red staining his white fur. He snarls, baring his teeth and shaking his head to clear his vision.

Something pulls at his mind and he whines, trying to push it away to focus on the fight. There’s a deep, unsettling sense of wrongness to this all, and he can’t quite figure out why. This is familiar. He knows this, he’s done this before, but something’s not quite right.

Jaskier’s not quite right.

“There you go, you ugly beast.”

Jaskier’s voice rings out through the night and Geralt stumbles forward, following it back toward the fight. Jaskier is standing in front of the werewolf, leather cuirass stained with blood, curled hair matted and sweaty and pushed away from his face. Something about the way his jaw is set in determination strikes right at Geralt’s core.

If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands.

Suddenly he’s not here, he’s on a mountain far away, and Jaskier is staring at him with wide, sad eyes as the determined look on his face fades to disappointment. The faint echo of anger courses thought Geralt, muted by the memory.

Right.

Right, then.

In the memory, Jaskier’s words are soft and sad, and Geralt’s heart aches at the broken look in his eyes.

I did that, he thinks. I said those things. I was…

He’s pulled back to reality by a pained cry, swaying unsteadily as memory after memory washes over him. This isn’t right. He’s supposed to be in Jaskier’s place, with a sword in his hand and blood dripping from his face, eyes black as he keeps Jaskier safe. Instead he watches helplessly as the werewolf’s claws drag deep red marks down Jaskier’s side.

No.

Geralt snarls and charges forward, leaping onto the beast’s back and biting down on the place where its neck meets its shoulder. It howls, pushing Jaskier away and trying to reach back and grab Geralt instead. Geralt refuses to let go, sinking his teeth deeper until he feels bone crack and sinew tear.

The werewolf stumbles backward and falls to its knees, and Geralt quickly jumps over it, landing in front and lunging for its throat this time. Its furious shriek turns to a gurgling whine as Geralt’s teeth hit their mark. Red colors Geralt’s vision as the werewolf thrashes beneath him, motions becoming slower and weaker until it shudders and goes limp.

Geralt drops the beast, noting the silver knife sticking out of its chest, directly through its heart.

Jaskier, he thinks, as more memories come back to him. Evenings spent by the campfire, teaching Jaskier about monsters. Showing him how to use the crossbow; pretending to be irritated when he missed the target over and over again. Sparring with practice swords that Geralt carved from tree branches, then with the real thing, Jaskier’s blows becoming stronger and more precise with each passing day.

“Geralt…”

Jaskier’s voice is weak and Geralt turns to it immediately, padding over to where he’s lying on his back in the debris. The front of his cuirass is torn open, and blood drips through his fingers where he’s pressing against the wound.

No, Geralt thinks, looking around desperately for something to help. He whines at Jaskier, nudging his cheek and wishing he could speak. I’m here. I’m supposed to keep you safe.

“Thank you,” Jaskier manages, trying to catch his breath. Then he exhales shakily as his eyes close and he goes limp. Geralt noses at his cheek, relieved to feel a soft breath on the side of his face. He’s still alive. Geralt can still make this right.

He grabs at Jaskier’s cloak with his teeth, tugging on it until the fabric tears. Then he settles it over the wound and moves to lay beside Jaskier, pressing himself up against the fabric to keep the wound from bleeding out.

Yennefer, Geralt thinks, trying his best to feel for his bond with her as he looks up at the full moon. It’s difficult – buried deep – but as soon as he feels a sliver of connection, he latches onto it. Yennefer, he cries out. Jaskier’s hurt. Please, I need your help.

#the witcher #the witcher fanfic #geraskier #geralt/jaskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #wolf!geralt #update #new chapter #my fic

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earpdearp · 7 years

Text

just the beginning

Wherein Waverly shares a favorite spot with her favorite friend, Nicole.

A beautiful sunrise, a cup of coffee, a good conversation… what else do you need?

Also on AO3. Approximately 4,840 words.

Other WayHaught “just friends” fics: just blowing off steam | just coffee | just another tuesday

It was less the doorbell that woke Nicole Haught and more the launching of her terrified cat off her thigh. Alarmed mewling accompanied sharp pinpricks of hind claws as the ginger cat disappeared down the hall (presumably to the hall closet: Calamity Jane’s favorite hiding place).

Nicole started to swear after the damn cat, but decided it wasn’t worth the effort it as she sat up in bed. Exhaling in a slow hiss, Nicole ran her fingertips over the clusters of scratches on her thigh. (If only this was the first time this had happened… or if only it was to be the last.)

Perfect. Just perfect.

The doorbell chimed again. Reaching for her phone, Nicole noted the time: 5:36AM. The darkness outside her bedroom curtains confirmed the early hour.

What the hell?

Nicole padded down the hall in socks, flannel pajama bottoms and a light long-sleeve shirt, shivering slightly against the settled chill of the rest of her house (her bedroom had the luxury of a small heater). She vaguely thought about grabbing her gun, but dismissed that idea (considering burglars don’t usually ring first).

Approaching the front door, Nicole stepped into a pair of tan, hard-soled house slippers. She clicked on the porch light before throwing open the door, revealing…

Waverly Earp?

“Good morning!” Waverly chirped, jostling a pair of travel coffee cups enticingly.

The old porch lamp threw harsh yellows across a Waverly Earp dressed in warm-up pants, a dark crop top and her usual heavy leopard-print coat. Her hair was tied in a side ponytail, a light dusting of make-up accented her eyes and lips, and a range of gold bracelets jangled down both wrists.

Of course it would be Waverly. And as “Waverly” as ever, even this early.

Stepping onto her door mat, Nicole rubbed her arms against the cold (and resisted the temptation to smooth down her hair). “Uh, morning? I thought—“ Nicole paused and looked at her phone again. “—I thought we were meeting before my shift at 9.”

A sunshine-sweet reply. “We are!”

“Oh…” Nicole blinked blearily, trying to wrap her mind around what was happening. The distant sky was starting to purple slightly with the dawn, but stars still twinkled in the (very early) morning twilight.

Waverly’s smile faltered. “It’s not too early, is it? I was afraid it would be…” She took a step back, eyes apologetic. “I—I wanted it to be a surprise. I’m not great with surprises but I thought it was a good plan and I…“ A line appeared between her eyebrows.

Nicole interrupted her with a hand wave. “Waves.”

Snapping her mouth shut, Waverly tilted her head.

“Sorry. It’s not too early. I just wasn’t expecting you. Neither was CJ.” Nicole smiled at Waverly as warmly as she could before shooting a mock-glare over her shoulder and raising her voice. “Who is a worthless protector, by the way!” Through her pajama pants, she rubbed at the small burning scratches down her right thigh.

The worry line smoothed from Waverly’s brow. “Cats usually are! …the protectee rather than the protector, is what I meant. Not that Calamity Jane is worthless.”

“Oh, but she is worthless,” Nicole corrected with a good-natured smile.

Stepping forward, Waverly offered Nicole one of the coffees. She made a nodding head motion. “Check it out!”

Confused, Nicole slowly accepted the cup. At another enthusiastic head nod from Waverly, she moved a hand to the plastic lid. And with a final confirmation nod, Nicole popped off the lid. Inside appeared to be a delicious Shorty’s cappuccino with one difference: mixed with the espresso was milk-foam drizzled into a picture-perfect heart shape.

Waverly’s smile was broad and proud. “I’ve been practicing! Just for you!”

That smile was infectious. Nicole found herself more pleased at the gesture than she should have been. “You have! It came out awesome! …wait.” She looked at her phone again, then the coffee, then up and down at Waverly. “…how long have you been up?”

With a sheepish shrug, Waverly mumbled, “Like 5… 4… 3…AM?” Her eyes didn’t quite meet Nicole’s as she took a long sip of her own coffee.

“Waverly…” Nicole warned.

“…Okay, so I haven’t technically gone to sleep yet.”

“Waverly!”

Waving a dismissive hand, Waverly stole another sip of her coffee. “Remember I work at a bar, Nicole. Not my first rodeo this week, even. …Plus, Wynonna came in crazy late then by the time she passed out I would have had to get up to get everything, so…” She trailed off as she threw a thumb behind her at the still-running Jeep. Vapor clouded around the rumbling vehicle.

Nicole took a step back and opened the screen door on the porch to welcome the woman inside. Waverly shook her head and pointed behind her again. “Up for a little road trip?” She grinned, eyes glittering in the low light.

“Absolutely.” Hesitation didn’t even cross Nicole’s mind. It didn’t matter that it was 5:30 in the morning or that it was Goddamn cold out. Nicole did pause to pull at the bottom of her shirt, though. “…Uh, can I change first?”

“No need! I have blankets!” Waverly reached out and snagged the cuff of Nicole’s shirt and tugged. “And if it makes you feel any better, we probably won’t leave the car.”

At Nicole’s raised eyebrow, Waverly hastily added, “I just… want to show you something.” There was a quiet shyness to her words, a soft gaze that she dropped after a second too long.

Without even thinking twice, Nicole replied, “…Let me get my keys.” She pulled out of Waverly’s grasp, but not before running fingertips down the woman’s wrist. Possibly on accident.

She didn’t run so much as fly over to the side table near the kitchen to scoop up her keyring. Nicole then detoured around the pantry to grab a handful of dry cat food from the open bag (after looping the keys over her coffee-hand index finger). She dropped the pellets with a loud clattering into Calamity Jane’s bowl. An excited meow could be heard from the ajar closet. Ginger fur was a blur in Nicole’s vision as she smoothly exited the house and locked the door behind her.

Waverly was still on her front porch, drinking coffee and staring off into the brightening eastern sky. At the creaking screen door, she turned to Nicole with a wide smile.

“Ready,” Nicole affirmed with a playful twirl of her keys.

Gesturing at her car with her head, Waverly’s long ponytail snapped behind her shoulder. Both women climbed into the small Jeep and buckled in (though Nicole did spare a moment outside to rake fingers through her messy hair).

Nicole was struck by how warm it was inside the car. There was a soft brown blanket folded up and waiting on her seat, which Nicole draped over her long legs. In between their seats was a large brown paper bag with some visible grease stains. A heavy scent of egg drifted up from it, making Nicole’s stomach rumble.

At Nicole’s intrigued glance downward, Waverly tsked before shifting gears to back out of the gravel driveway. “Not ‘til we get there.” She smiled widely at Nicole’s attempt at a sad-but-hopefully-endearing face. “…it’s not a long drive. Promise.”

Purgatory was always dark at night. Small town, not a lot of wasted energy for street lamps outside of the main town areas (or ambitious neighbors with fancier automatic gates). The headlamps ahead only picked up the passing dirt/snow-covered road. Nicole was tempted to look at her phone for a map, but instead drank her coffee and savored the suspense.

“Ever seen a Purgatory sunrise?” Waverly asked, eyes intent on the windshield. Her palms rolled with the steering wheel from instinct and practice.

Nicole stopped to think. “Twice. So far.” A sad smile twitched at the corner of her mouth, which she hid behind her coffee.

“When was the first?”

“End of my third night shift. Nedley kicked me off early. He showed up at the station, hat back on his head with a giant cup of coffee. He told me ‘Dismissed, rookie. ‘Bout time you appreciate why you’re here.’” Nicole thought her gruff Sheriff Nedley impression was pretty good.

Success: Waverly chuckled. “What happened?”

“I was dog-ass tired from logging drunks in the tank… That was the night of that big brawl at Pussywillows. Like eight arrests, most of whose wives’ were not keen on picking them up.”

Nicole smiled as she looked down at that vague heart shape in her cup, the foam half gone. It made the memory all the sweeter. “So I walk outside, tired and irritated… and there’s that big sunrise lighting up the street. It was right after the first snowfall which hadn’t gotten a chance to melt, plus no one was out in town yet to disturb it. Just beautiful… the way the light hit the buildings and street. I didn’t want to take a picture, I just wanted to remember it, y’know?”

Nodding, Waverly glanced over at her. “What was the second?”

An awkward swallow. “Uh… when—when I woke up in that ditch… After that ‘Jack the Ripper’ or whoever…” She trailed off, wincing when she saw the pained expression on Waverly’s face. Nicole tried to salvage the story. “When I woke up, I was looking straight up and it was so quiet and I wasn’t cold anymore. I saw the light change so quickly and I turned my head and there it was. Filtering through the trees and so so bright. And a second later, I saw Nedley step out of the sun and tell me I was ‘gonna be okay, kid.’” No mocking impression this time, just a soft drop in pitch for imitation.

It was strange to think of the stern Sheriff as her guardian angel, but in that moment: he definitely was. Nicole had passed out immediately after and woken up in the hospital, just aching all over.

She felt fingertips on the hand in her lap and looked down. It was Waverly. A few of her bracelets tickled Nicole’s thigh as the woman gripped her hand.

“…Nicole. I’m so sorry.”

Why?

“It’s not your fault, Waves. It just happened. And I’m so glad Wynonna got away. I hope that sonofabitch got what was coming to him.” Nicole didn’t like to advocate violence, but deep down she had a few exceptions.

“He did.” The sad, knowing way Waverly said that made Nicole’s head jerk up. Nicole studied her, but her expression was neutral other than a tightening in her jaw.

Nicole had to bite her tongue against the sea of questions that sprang to mind. She just knew it had to have been Wynonna… but how?

Did it matter?

Clearing her throat, Nicole squeezed Waverly’s hand back. “When was your first sunrise, Waverly?”

A sad smile through that tight jaw. “It’s not a good story.”

“I’d like to hear it,” Nicole said softly. “But I understand if you don’t want to tell it.”

There was about 10 seconds of silence. Nicole felt Waverly’s hand start to slip out of hers, but then suddenly grip harder.

Staring hard at the road, Waverly’s voice was soft and stuttering. “I was—I was six. On the Homestead. The night Willa was taken and… and Wynonna shot Daddy to try and—try and stop them. I remember just standing there. Aunt Gus kept asking me to come in the house, but I just couldn’t move. I was still staring at where they—the cops—had driven off with Wynonna. And that little point on the horizon I was staring at… suddenly there was a little spark of light. And it just grew and grew and I stared until I couldn’t see anymore.”

“Oh God… I’m so sorry, Waverly.”

“Not your fault either,” Waverly echoed. She pulled her hand out of Nicole’s finally to wipe at the single tear that had stained her cheek. Smiling at Nicole, Waverly shrugged. “I’ve seen happy ones, too. Some good ones on the MacCready farm between the hills. On the roof of Shorty’s. Even on the Homestead with Wynonna.”

She nodded ahead of them at a curve in the road. “This should be a good one, too.”

“I’m sure it will be,” Nicole agreed.

A few minutes later, the fat Jeep tires crunched as the road angle steepened. Nicole thought she saw a small white sign, but it passed too quickly for her to read. The dark purple had started to lighten and gave Nicole just the barest hint of surroundings: scrubby trees and a rock face to their right.

They meandered up the trail with the occasional errant swerve, but Waverly steered into any skids with practiced calm. Nicole pressed her body into her seat in alarm when she saw the Jeep heading directly for a close grove of bushes that appeared to dead-end into the cliffside.

“…Waverly.”

The woman only smiled back wickedly and tapped the gas. Nicole braced herself as they crashed through the underbrush into a secret clearing just at the edge of a cliff. There, Waverly jerked the wheel into a small circle to point them directly at the edge and slow to a stop.

Shifting into park, Waverly leaned over and pulled up the paper bag to show Nicole. Inside, Nicole saw stacks of aluminum foil-wrapped mounds. A few had scribbles of letters on them with permanent marker.

“Ta da! Breakfast tacos! Courtesy of JD’s Restaurant—well, courtesy of Debbie who owed me a favor,” Waverly announced and crinkled the bag at Nicole (whose stomach rumbled again). She peeked inside and started listing, “The P’s are for potato and egg, B’s are for bean and egg, anything else is bacon. You like bacon, right?”

Her eyes widened. “Oh shit! Sorry!” Waverly gave an awkward laugh. “I wasn’t trying to make a cop joke!”

It took a second for Nicole to register those rapid-fire words. Mostly because she was staring at Waverly’s lips.

Unh? Cop joke?

Oh right. Bacon. Pig. “Cops are pigs.” Right.

Nicole laughed as selected an unmarked bacon and egg taco. “Purgatory must be a rare exception, cuz I actually haven’t heard many cop jokes. Well… from people who aren’t cops, anyway.” She mock-glared at Waverly before covering it with a warm smile.

Waverly pulled out a cylindrical piece of foil with a distinct “P” indention on top for herself and set the bag back down. Nicole started to unwrap the taco, but a hand on her wrist stopped her from taking a bite.

Glancing at the dashboard, Waverly pulled on Nicole’s wrist as she nodded straight ahead. “Wait for it.”

Ever the polite guest, Nicole waited (and definitely did not jerk her hand out of Waverly’s grasp).

The almost clear sky blossomed into warm pinks, then reds, then oranges. Ahead of them, the spectrum of color was mirrored across the smooth water of the Purgatory Reservoir. Bands of light trickled between the ridges of the reservoir cliffs. Steam billowing from the hot car engine refracted the light through a haze. And a few seconds later, a familiar bright orb crested the horizon. Ripples in the water sparkled with white light.

Turning to Waverly, Nicole was surprised to see the woman was already looking at her. Her hazel eyes caught the light and brightened to an almost-green. Waverly’s soft smile suddenly turned to a more broad, smug one. “See? Told you.”

Waverly “toasted” with a tap of her foil-wrapped taco against Nicole’s as she let go of Nicole’s hand. “Welcome to my spot, Nicole Haught.” Manicured nails peeled back the aluminum within seconds.

“I’m honored.” It was supposed to sound light and sarcastic. But instead, Nicole found herself smiling and sincere. “It’s a good spot, Waverly Earp.”

Nicole bit into her own taco, savoring the crunch of bacon and the still-warm egg. There was finally enough light to look around.

The Purgatory Reservoir was a pretty standard carved hole in the ground to create an artificial lake. Rusty piping scaled up the northern end before disappearing towards the town itself. There were definite paths cut into the rock with a small, empty dock on the eastern end. Otherwise, they were alone at this oddly serene little perch overlooking a distinct hiking trail.

Small town indeed.

“How did you find this place?” Nicole asked through another bite.

“By accident.”

“Like most good things,” Nicole nodded.

Waverly took a long sip of her coffee. “I was 16 and mad about something. I don’t remember what. Curtis had just fixed up this Jeep so I just wanted to get away. I wanted to go down to the lake and just… I dunno, skip rocks or something. I was going too fast and a pair of hikers were coming up the trail. I had to turn hard and went through this little underbrush and ended up here. The hikers were drunk and didn’t even notice. I sat here for hours, but no one came looking.”

“Well that’s… dangerous.” Nicole offered a cringe-smile at Waverly’s glare. “Hey, you could have just careened into the lake.”

Then who would I be in lo—having breakfast with? Nicole wanted to say but held her tongue.

“But I didn’t!” Waverly squawked defensively. She grumbled into her coffee. “…you sound just like Uncle Curtis.”

“I will assume that’s a compliment.”

Waverly wrinkled her nose and shrugged. “Depends.” But she did smile. “I used to come up here to practice cheerleading… lots of space plus privacy to shout at the top of my lungs. I was trying to make varsity. It was hard to practice at home when Wynonna was still there and always fighting with Gus and Curtis… or running off.” Waverly balled up her fist and mock-punched her other open palm. “I love Wynonna to death… but she could be a shit. …Still is, sometimes.”

“I can see that,” Nicole calmly agreed, though she was still internally digesting the “cheerleader” factoid. It was… not an unpleasant path for her mind to go down.

Balling up the foil and chucking the trash into her back seat, Waverly drummed her fingers on her steering wheel. “I think everyone here has Their Spot, y’know? Which is so weird to think about. We live in a small town to get away from people… And yet with all this space, we still need more space to get away from everyone… usually the people we love.” That sad smile was back.

Nicole leaned back in her seat to appreciate the view once more, though she did have to flip down the sun visor to shield her eyes. “I guess I’ll be a true Purgatorian when I find my own Spot, yea?” She shot a grin at Waverly.

The return smile from Waverly was soft and sweet. “You can—you can borrow mine if you want. Until you find your own.”

“When and if I do: you’ll be the first person I tell,” Nicole promised. She started to say something, but instead opted for a teasing retort. “It’ll be hard to top this spot, though. You set the bar pretty high, Earp.”

In more ways than one.

Waverly gave a humble bow of the head. “It’s what I do, Haught.”

Suddenly, they both picked this moment to go for the bag of tacos at the same time. Leaning over, they accidentally smacked their foreheads together. They both jerked back, Waverly swearing “Dammit!” while Nicole’s vision was flooded with sparks of light. A second passed before they both burst out laughing and rubbed their heads.

Leaning back in carefully this time, Nicole reached her hand out to put it on Waverly’s neck. She guided their foreheads into a gentle touch as she smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. I’ll forgive you if you forgive me.”

A bright, familiar chirp. “Deal!”

It was supposed to just be nice. Simple. But Nicole’s hand stayed too long, their foreheads touched too long, Waverly smiled too long. Clearing her throat, Nicole dropped her gaze (and that hand) to select another taco while Waverly pulled back.

“What—what does the ‘N’ stand for?” Nicole asked, pulling a particularly large one out.

“Huh?” Waverly was still staring before she registered what Nicole had said. Her eyes blinked quickly. “Oh! That’s the Nedley Special.”

“The what?”

“Don’t ask me what’s in it. Debbie knows. Probably full of red meat and cheese. Chrissy and I keep telling him he needs to watch his cholesterol.”

Nicole still stared, not quite understanding.

That ponytail at Waverly’s shoulder bounced with her head tilt. “For the station? I figured you could look like a hero showing up for work with breakfast for everybody. Well…” Waverly amended with a sweet smile. “More of a hero than usual.”

A melodic ping sounded in the car. Nicole’s phone was silent in her blanketed lap, so it must be Waverly’s. Ignoring it, Waverly reached in to snag the last potato and egg taco. “There you go. Take as much as you want, and the boys can have the rest… or pull a Wynonna and just eat it all in front of them.” She wrinkled her nose in mock-disgust.

“Thank you, Waverly. I really apprecia—“ Nicole started before another text sound.

Waverly’s jaw tightened, but not before she placed the large sack on Nicole’s lap. And another ping.

“Goddammit! She always does this!” Waverly’s voice was almost a breathless shriek from the high pitch.

“Waverly…”

A few seconds later the phone rang, which Waverly angrily tapped to send to voicemail.

“So, what time do you—?“ Waverly started to ask before the phone in her hand buzzed again. A vein twitched at her temple.

Nicole had to try very hard not to laugh. “Waverly. It’s okay. It might be important.”

The phone rang for a third time. Wynonna was being persistent. Exhaling loudly through her nose, Waverly stabbed a finger at the phone. “I’m here I’m here! Jesus! What’s going on?”

Nicole could hear Wynonna’s voice through the phone, loud and breathless.

[“What the hell, Waverly? You scare the shit out of me when you don’t answer! Where are you?”]

Waverly shot a significant glance at Nicole before her eyes returned to the dashboard. “I was—I’m just running an—I’m out with—none of your business! What’s going on?” She repeated, cheeks reddeningly slightly.

Ah.

Nicole remained thoughtfully silent, though a little ember of hope was kindled.

Rekindled, if she was being 100% honest.

Maybe… If—If it didn’t mean anything, it would be easy to just say “I’m hanging out with Nicole.” …but she didn’t. So… maybe…?

Wynonna’s muffled voice was accusing. [“You’re running errands?! At seven in the morning?!”]

“I have a life, Wynonna. A job, too,” Waverly hissed back defensively. “Plus, what are you doing up this early? You didn’t even make it to bed last night. I had to leave you on the couch.”

[“Hey, I just needed a power nap! A little Red Bull and this little lady will be firing on all cylinders in no time!”]

Nicole reflexively made a silent retching noise at the thought of Red Bull. No thank you, ma’am.

Sighing, Waverly pinched the bridge of her nose. “Uh huh…”

[“Anyway, Dolls is up my ass about some new case. And he very specifically asked for you to show up. You know how he loves his pep-talk briefings. Whole new meaning to ‘fire and brimstone’ with that guy.”]

“Right,” Waverly sighed again. “…right.”

[“See you at the office in 30?”]

Checking her watch, Waverly shook her head. “Gonna take me a little longer than that. But yea. I’ll be there.”

[“Thanks, babygirl. …where are you anyway?”]

“I said none of your damn business, Wynonna.”

[“You better not have gotten back together with that idiot Champ. Or his pair of ‘braincells.’”]

Waverly’s eyes flicked to Nicole’s again and her nose wrinkled in awkward—but suppressed—anger. “No, I am not with Champ. Just… see you at the office. Bye.”

Nicole would be lying if her ears didn’t perk up every time she heard about a case falling into BBD’s lap, especially when she heard Waverly was consulting on it. But Nicole simply sat politely and kept a sympathetic smile on her face.

Something a friend would do, right?

Apologetic, Waverly asked if they could head back. Nicole obliged with a nod; she had to get ready for her shift. And there was still time to squeeze in a shower. A run was out of the question now.

Totally worth it, though.

The warm, idled Jeep growled to life and Waverly shifted gears before turning back down the road they came. The gravel crunched under fat tires as they bounced back towards Purgatory proper in silence.

“Why—” Nicole started, before clearing her throat and clutching the bag of tacos tighter. “—Why didn’t you tell Wynonna you were hanging out with me?” Thankfully, it didn’t come out emotional or accusing, but just politely curious.

Waverly was silent. She offered a small shrug which pushed her side ponytail over her shoulder.

Part of Nicole wanted to press the matter. Get an answer once and for all. Get whatever this was—this silent, unspoken thing—out in the open.

Or end it once and for all?

But that was Nicole’s impatience talking. She was only half the equation. The other half was Waverly, who obviously wasn’t ready for… whatever this was. That wasn’t fair to put everything on Waverly to decide right this second… Especially after she was up all night dealing with Wynonna and God-Only-Knows what else.

Granted, not every discussion was going to have the luxury of a right-place, right-time. But at the very least, Nicole could give her the space to decide when she was ready.

Which clearly was not this moment.

Instead, Nicole leaned over and clicked on the radio. The dial was set to the local pop station, the signal crisp this close to the radio tower (which visibly crested the hill north of the reservoir). A heady beat accompanied female vocals that Nicole didn’t recognize, but she did notice a small rhythmic bobbing of Waverly’s head to the beat. The uncomfortable silence was only interrupted by the radio DJ cracking bad jokes between Top 40 tracks.

It wasn’t until they pulled into Nicole’s driveway did Waverly finally answer. “I just…”

The sound of Waverly’s voice stopped Nicole from folding up the blanket over her knees. She looked up to see a very intense, brow-crinkled look from Waverly.

“…I’m not like, ashamed of hanging out with you. I hope you know that, Nicole.”

Nicole gave a cheek-pulling smile of acknowledgement. “I know. I’m not ashamed of hanging out with you either, Waverly.” She waited, running her fingertips down the now-cold bag of tacos.

“I just… I want something separate from Wynonna, you know? I just… I always feel like I’m working around her. Or Gus. Or this town. …Or being an Earp. And I… I don’t know what I’m trying to say.” Waverly trailed off, collapsing into her seat with an angry sigh.

“Okay.”

“’Okay?’” A high-pitched mimic of Nicole. Waverly frowned at her. “What do you mean: ‘okay?’”

Nicole offered Waverly the folded blanket as she unbuckled her seatbelt. “I mean okay.” She turned to face Waverly and looked her dead in the eye. “It’s okay for Wynonna to not know everything. It’s okay to feel like you’re always doing things for everyone else and not yourself and be frustrated by it. It’s okay that you don’t know what to say. And I’m okay with all of that.”

“Nicole, I…” Waverly bit her lip.

“Thank you for breakfast, Waverly,” Nicole said warmly. She reached out and touched Waverly’s wrist. “I’ll see you at the station later?”

Waverly nodded, confused. She looked like she wanted to say something but didn’t.

“Okay,” Nicole repeated, though with a slight teasing twinkle this time. “Have a good morning. I know I did.” And with that, she turned and headed for her front door.

Excited scratching could be heard as Nicole put her key in the lock after balancing the large bag under her armpit. When she got the door open to a waiting Calamity Jane, Nicole turned to wave at Waverly, who was still staring back at her. Eventually, the woman gave Nicole a small nod and smile before turning over her shoulder to back out of the driveway.

Nicole watched the small red Jeep disappear down the road with a flurry of snow and dust.

Her phone pinged a few minutes later as she turned on the knobs for a hot shower.

[Waverly says: “I’ve never told anyone about my spot”]

[Nicole says: “I’m honored”]

[Waverly says: “I’m glad I could show you”]

[Nicole says: “Me too. It was worth the trip”]

A series of “…” appeared and reappeared for close to 60 seconds. Just as Nicole gave up and put the phone down to hop in the shower, the device pinged again.

[Waverly says: “So are you”]

#wynonna earp #wynonna earp fanfic #fanfic #wayhaught #waverly earp #nicole haught #waverly x nicole #trying to be friends #and failing #mushy idiots #dorks in love #ren writes

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rhapsody-under-pressure · 7 years

Text

Moonlight Magic pt 4

It was nearly noon when Freddie awoke. He pushed himself up, barely able to remember much after Brian had come to get him. Mainly he could just see Brian heading over and barely waking up for a second while he treated some of his wounds. Brian practically had to drag him into their room, his body more exhausted than usual and excruciatingly sore once more. Freddie shivered again, still unable to feel any sort of warmth even with the heavy comforter of his bed draped over his body. He was clad in another oversized outfit and the gashes across his body were already starting to heal, the pestle that Brian usually used for treating them still sitting atop his nightstand.

“How you doing?” Brian asked from across the room, a book stretched out across his lap along with a large map decorated with various constellations.

“Tired.” He answered, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he brought his hand up to the opposing arm, feeling the still swollen cuts along his arm from underneath the sleeve.

“I got everything treated. You passed out almost as soon as I came down there. I just tossed on something to keep you warm since, well, that outfit didn’t really survive…”

Shame tightened his stomach even more so, eliminating any sort of possibly hunger he might’ve felt for those few seconds after waking. He avoided Brian’s concerned gaze, unable to face him right now and laid back down on the bed, turning onto his side and staring at the wall. Within a few seconds, the rustling of papers from Brian’s side of the room returned and he kept silent.

Flashes of last night began shooting into his mind, his body tensing and trembling every time they encroached on his thoughts. The beast slamming its body against the windows to try and smash it open, raking its claws against the glass to try and weaken it. Tearing the rug apart and crashing against the shield around the fireplace numerous times. Howls of pure rage and hunger continually echoed off the wall, its jaws soon latching down onto itself or bringing its claws up to draw more blood, gladly lapping up every drop that spilled out of its wounds.

It was so familiar, yet so new. Freddie was already cursing himself, trying to get his mind to shut up for a few moments so that he could try and get more sleep after having none the previous night. But how could he? Never once could he stop them, so why would he be able to do so now? He just wanted them to stop forever, but he’d made his bed, now he had to lie in it.

As soon as the wolf’s orange gaze shot into his mind, his eyes flew back open. His stomach churned inside of him, nausea staring to fill him up once again as he tried to refocus his eyes onto the now spinning room around him.

“Freddie, you sure you’re okay?” Brian asked again, Freddie only barely registering his lover’s words and automatically nodding.

“You look like you’re gonna be sick. I’ll get a bucket.”

He barely heard him walk around the room, his mind losing its fight against those memories he had tried so hard to lock up and forget, the battle ending quickly as they went free. The silvery glow of the moon lighting up the grounds as he cast the spell onto the grass for Brian to find him for them to spend their anniversary together while he thought about whether or not he should enchant the fire to be a delicate shade of purple instead of the usual warm reds and oranges. All those little animal noises that sounded from the woods that he couldn’t have cared less about, even the loud snarls he thought belonged to a bear or some other random creature that lived inside the forest.

That barbaric growl that came from his side echoed through his mind as he was suddenly thirteen again. He looked behind him, seeing that wild orange light glow from the beast’s eyes as it reared up onto its hind legs and let out its deafening howl. Shock held him in place for those few seconds that might’ve stopped all of this. He couldn’t move until the beast began moving.

One second. That’s all it had taken for it to be upon him. He leapt back, narrowly missing its snapping mouth. Yet he didn’t miss its slashing claws, feeling them dig into his leg and pull him down, the other set digging into his side. He reached out for his wand that was barely a few centimeters away, feverishly trying to think of something to get it off of him. Pain seared through his leg as its teeth sunk into his soft flesh, nearly reaching down to the bone. A blood-curdling cry of pain sprang from his mouth, tears immediately blinding his vision as the claws on his side raked down to his hip, the beast adding another attack on his side with the same paw.

He tried his best to free himself, focusing on trying to grab his wand to blast it off of him or at least shield himself from being hurt any further. Hot blood began gushing out of the cuts it already created, those menacing growls continuing to reverberate out of its muzzle. He tore at the grass, trying his damnedest to break free while the claws that were buried in his leg soon began grabbing at his back.

His hand finally came in tact with his wand. “Protego!” He tried, the shot disappearing in the distance.

He turned around to face the beast that was behind him, his eyes meeting that vicious orange stare that showed nothing but bloodlust. Its grey fur was marred with dark blood across its snout and shoulders, not a single ounce of morality or humanity inside of its untamed gaze.

“Pro-protego!” He tried once more, the scene slowly starting to go hazy around him as his breathing hastened, the thudding of footsteps and someone shouting his name slowly coming through to him.

“…die!? Freddie!?”

Instantly he was back in his bedroom, a small bucket at the edge of his bed and Brian’s panicked eyes looking down at him from next to his bed. Tears were still pouring out of the corners of his eyes and falling across his face onto the sheets beneath him. It wasn’t for a few more seconds did he realize he was clutching the scar along his left leg and was shaking violently. He fell over the side of his bed, grabbing the bucket Brian had brought in and let out the little bit of what he had in his stomach into it, soon feeling Brian’s hand on the back of his head as he held back his hair.

Brian began softly stroking his back as he finished vomiting inside of the small bucket, wiping away the small drivel on the corner of his mouth.

“I’m sorry…” He muttered through his shaky sobbing. “I wanted to be calm this morning a-and…I’m sorry…”

He let out a long moan of pain as he continued shaking in his seat. Brian didn’t press any further. Instead he moved closer, putting his hand over his shoulder and slowly running it along his arm. His ugly sobs filled their room, every image still pressed right up against the front of his mind and bringing back every emotion he had felt during the entire experience. Rage, fear, sadness, all of it. But the fear was the most prominent in his mind at the moment. Coming in contact with that beast again completely petrified him. Hell just seeing another one terrified him to no end.

“I’m sorry…” He repeated in a slightly louder tone. “I-I should’ve listened a-and I didn’t a-and it’s all my bloody fault that we’re stuck here and n-not home a-and-”

“Freddie, Freddie it’s alright.” Brian comforted in that stable tone, not once removing his hand from his arm. “There’s no need to be sorry.” He paused, looking down at the comforter before continuing. “It’s the past. We…We can’t focus on that right now.”

‘No it’s not alright!” He spat venomously. “Look what we have to do…” He said in a solemn voice. “We’re lying to everyone around us. Roger, John, our parents.”

“Freddie it’s not your fault.” Brian tried, Freddie fighting back another outburst as he returned to his sobbing. Brian didn’t say another word either, only continuing to stroke his arm as he brought his hand up to his leg. In an instant, Freddie fell over onto Brian’s lap as he now tried to slow his crying and get control over himself.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Brian told him in a gentle voice. “It’s hard having to do all of this. But we’re making it work. No one’s found out, have they?”

He shook his head against his chest, letting out a shaky exhale that was muffled in Brian’s clothes.

“See. It’s okay. Breathe.”

Freddie listened to what Brian was telling him even with that weight present upon his chest. That sick feeling kept its tight grip around him, forcing him to stay in place and stay quiet. All the images were still rampaging through his mind, making his stomach tense and miniscule and making it nearly impossible to speak anything even remotely coherent.

It was so easy…We could’ve had a normal school experience and you went and ruined it. He berated, his eye twitching as his mind continued to bombard him with everything he knew was true. It’s your fault. He’s just telling you what you want to hear so you can get off again and fuck around with your lives again. Get over yourself you prat. He’s gonna leave you and John and Roger’ll follow. You deserve it anyway. You’re just the burden on their lives.

He looked up at Brian for a second, seeing that hurtful confusion and desperation in his eyes as he tried his best to soothe him. God knows he doesn’t deserve any of this…A single memory began to resurface, the present sadness growing heavier and heavier at the old scene of Brian and him hanging out with Roger and John back in their third year, the sight of all of them smiling without a care in the world making tears return to his already bloodshot eyes.

“I miss when we were younger Bri, back when nights were just us screwing around and not us having to worry about me…biting you or hurting anyone…” Freddie admitted in a sad voice, guilt tightening its metal fist around his weak body.

“I miss it too but we still have many other nights for us to hang out and be together.”

“It’s not the same. You know it’s not. No matter what we do it’s not going to change.” Unless someone actually shoots me dead.

“You don’t know that. Good wizards are always out there trying to cure this every day. Someday they’ll find something for you.”

It’ll happen the day I die. That’s when it’ll happen. “I hate lying to them. I wanted to be home this Christmas. Not hanging back here again.”

“If you ever want to tell them, I’ll be there with you. They’re not going to shun you or-”

“It’s not just that Bri…What would everyone else think about them? My mother might lose her job because she’s got…got a monster for a son. And you won’t be able to do anything either o-or your family because you’ve ties to someone like me. You know Roger won’t dare to talk to you again because you’ve been with me and lord knows what John would do…”

The room fell silent, Freddie just curling up next to Brian’s body. Brian never let go for the next half hour, each of them silently sitting there as he tried his best to calm himself back down after slipping back into a flashback. It’s what you get for trying to act brave. You’re a coward and weak. Don’t think this’ll ever get easier. It’s what you bloody deserve. Every tremble brought a soft run of Brian’s hand along his arm, his eyes thankfully never growing blurry with tears again during that entire time. His thoughts remained persistent, yet none ever slipped out into the open. He’s doing this to shut you up. He just doesn’t want to hear you bitch anymore about your pathetic problems. You’re weak. No one would care for you if they knew what you are. You deserve this and you know it.

…

A thin layer of snow had blanketed the old, now frozen, layer beneath it from a few days ago. Grey clouds covered the sky, the metallic tang of incoming snow woven through the air as Freddie wandered around the grounds by himself. He was coming up to the courtyard where a few students were in, talking to each other or playing around with the snow. Brian had gone to the Owlery to send off a parcel to their parents, Freddie feeling glad that he had gotten something at Hogsmede for his parents, even though it was just a few sweets. He wasn’t sure what Brian had gotten, but he would make sure to find out later on when he saw him again.

He headed into the courtyard, looking around at the other students playing around, especially the small group of first years. Just two Gryffindors, a Slytherin, and a Hufflepuff playing together, to his surprise, like they had been friends for years. The dark-skinned girl giggled playfully as she was knocked over into the snow by the Hufflepuff, the two Gryffindors joining in the laughter. Freddie grinned too, admiring the innocence of those first years who were enjoying their first Hogwarts’ winter.

“Freddie! Hey!”

He turned around at the call of his name, seeing John rush towards him, a few other students watching as he dashed off. Concern was lurking under his grey gaze, but happiness was still lined across his expression.

“I forgot you were here actually. Where were you this morning to see Roger off?”

“J-just felt ill…You saw me a few days ago. Brian stayed up there to make sure I didn’t get sick all over the bed.”

John’s own concern darkened his eyes even more so as he nodded. “Well you look a bit better now.” He said.

“Yeah, well, just needed some rest. Feeling much better after last night.”

Again, John only nodded. Remembrance lit up his eyes as he reached into his pocket, unfolding a sheet of paper. “I was wondering if you’d help me do some more reviewing. It’s been a while since I’ve done any and, well…yeah.”

“Oh come off it. I doubt you’ll need much. You’re one of the brightest in your year.”

“Well yeah but I just don’t wanna fall behind in herbology. It’s not exactly my strong suit.”

“C’mon then. Library’s got to be dead right now.”

Without another word, they headed out of the courtyard. John stayed at his side, fiddling around with his shirt while they walked along the silent corridor.

“Why’re you two staying back again? You did the same thing last year and the year before.” John commented, still avoiding any eye-contact with him.

“Ah…Well, we’ve a lot going on with our classes. I mean, we’ve N.E.W.Ts this year and last year was O.W.Ls so we needed to study for those. Fourth year was the s-same thing. Just a…bunch of studying. You know how Ravenclaws are!” He responded, pulling a weak smile that didn’t gain one back from John.

“I mean…Has something come up at home? If that’s the case, you can tell me if you want.” He gave a painful laugh and continued to stare at the ground. “Has someone passed?”

I still couldn’t go home even for that. “No…Everything’s fine at home. Just a bunch of crap at school we’ve to deal with.”

“But why stay back just for studying? Surely you can bring some books home if you really need to study.” He paused again, stopping in his tracks. “You sure nothing’s gone wrong at home?”

“I’m sure. It’s just sometimes I prefer studying where it’s quieter.”

Still, John didn’t seem convinced. Yet he kept silent and picked up his pace again, treading ever so slightly behind him as they continued in silence. His nerves began picking up. Why the sudden curiosity? John really never was pushy or intrusive, so where could it have come from? He wanted to say that something would happen if he went home, but he just couldn’t since John would continue to question him after that, then again, he seemed to do that regardless of his answer. Maybe it was just John’s own home life that was bothering him and made him want to make sure they were both alright.

They soon approached the library, John holding open the door for him as they headed in. As expected, no one was in there besides the librarian herself, who was decked out in a red and green cloak now that the holiday was upon them. The room now smelled of pine needles, either from an enchantment or because of a tree they couldn’t see from where they were standing.

“C’mon, there’s this book for herbology I need. Something about how to grow certain plants or whatever.” John explained, pulling him down towards one of the many rows of books.

Freddie merely followed, still wondering what on earth was on John’s mind. Was he regretting staying here and Roger going home? Surely he could’ve just stayed over Roger’s if his parents were going to be absolute prats again. He watched John search for the book among the shelves, trying to see if there was any sort of abnormality in his face or movements. But it was the same stuff as usual. Perhaps John just didn’t feel like going home. Some students do just hang back because they feel like it.

Once they sat themselves down, John pulled out the book he had grabbed and Freddie laid back in the chair. His body was continuing to berate him for doing so much when it desperately wanted to rest after spending so much of its energy in the last twenty-four hours. His eyes slowly shut, wanting to just drift back off into sleep once again. He tried closing his eyes, only to be greeted with a sudden flash of orange and jerking him awake, his hand instinctively rushing to his scarred leg and clutching it in his palm. Thankfully, John either hadn’t noticed or didn’t bother to ask this time around.

“Okay so we’re supposed to go over this stuff about a charm to help with growing certain plants. No idea why we’re using it to be honest if we’re just gonna let them all grow on their own.” John said while browsing through the book on the table.

Freddie barely heard him, his whole body starting to groan as the wounds strewn across his body began to ache again. All the fresh cuts and bites began pulsing almost in synch as he wrapped his arms around his stomach and tried steadying his breathing.

“You want to get the nurse? She might know what to do.” John asked.

“N-no, no I’m fine, just sore.” He admitted.

“I can see that. Makes sense though. Werewolf bites end up hurting every now and then.”

It was as if time stopped moving. His chest was punched by some invisible force as ice shot through him, his eyes flying open a mere second after the words escaped from John’s mouth. He looked down at the young fourth year, seeing a grim look in his eyes as he tried once more not to face him.

“I-I’m sorry they’re bothering you…D-do you want me to go-”

He didn’t let him say another word. Using all his remaining strength, Freddie jumped up, grabbed John by the arm and lugged him out of the library. His jaw clenched as he felt his heart steadily beat faster and faster, blood pounding through his body as each muscle violently tensed. He threw both of them into a nearby classroom, locking the door behind him as he looked around, thankful that it was empty besides a spider crawling around in its web above them.

“H-how the hell did you…How can…I…We didn’t even-!” Freddie cried out, the rest of the panic now making him start to tremble once more. He knows. How many others do?! Oh lord the whole school probably knows and you’ll be thrown out! Everyone’ll know. Everyone…every-

“Freddie! Hey, it’s okay.”

“No it’s not!” Freddie barked at him, clenching his fists as his body collapsed against the wall, slowly sliding down to the stone ground. “I-We didn’t want anyone a-and you found out about it.” He whipped his head in his direction. “How’d you find out?”

John was completely taken aback, his mouth hanging open as he stuttered while trying to find the right words, holding his hands out in front of him and gesturing around him as though that was getting his point across.

“I-I mean…” He began as his words came back to him. “I did see those scars while you were in the bathroom…But I just thought it was a dog or something until I’d done my dark arts homework and I got distracted and went back to my others books.” He swallowed thickly, looking as though he was going to be sick himself. “…I read some stuff on nocturnal animals.” He admitted, straightening himself out ever so slightly. “You’re always sick near the full moon and a hell lot better after it and we never see you when it actually is a full moon…”

Look what you did! Oh god they’re all gonna know…Brian’s gonna flip. His eyes darted around the room as he made sure no one else was really in there, not even a ghost to spy on their conversation. All he got was his heavy breathing, the pounding of his heart against his chest, and John’s wide-eyed stare that was full of terror and guilt.

“J-John please…Please tell me you didn’t tell anyone. Even Roger…” He begged, flashing a pleading glance his way with his eyes as wide as they could go.

“No! No of course not. I didn’t want to blab about something that I might’ve just been guessing at. I-I was just guessing at it earlier in case and-”

“Please…Please don’t.” He sobbed, his eyes starting to grow blurry with tears once again. “I-I didn’t want anyone to know…”

All he got was a concerned nod in response. He looked down at him with worried eyes. “Who does, you know, know?”

“Brian and me. That was it. No teachers, no students, not even our families.”

“Is that why you don’t go home during the holidays?” John tried, even though the growing shadow in his eyes answered the question for him.

And yet he nodded, wiping away the tears that were streaming out of the corners of his eyes. “I-it always happens around the holidays.” He explained, his usual fears starting to arise once again. “I can’t hurt them…Even them knowing will ruin them...” He whispered softly. He looked back up at the startled Hufflepuff. “John please, please don’t tell them. A-anyone. Roger, a teacher, even the bloody nurse here! Lord if my family found out…Or some random stranger overhearing it and letting it spread around a-and-”

His words suddenly stopped as they returned back to just being the usual thoughts. He grabbed a fistful of his hair in his right hand and bit down onto his whitening knuckles on the opposing fist. John took a seat next to him, bringing his knees up to his chest and lazily laying his arms over them. Freddie managed a look towards him, seeing a similar distress that he had seen far too many times in Brian’s own expression.

“I won’t.” He finally said. “I mean, really, I don’t even want to tell anyone. What good would it do?” He asked.

Freddie didn’t respond, his mind still telling him otherwise. He’s gonna let it slip out. Everyone’ll know and you’ll ruin everyone else’s lives. The entire world will despise you for what you are.

He felt John’s hand on his leg a moment later. Freddie looked down towards him, not an ounce of hostility inside of his eyes. Actually, all Freddie could really find was a much more hopeful light inside of his face. No fear, no anger, no disgust. Nothing that showed he was upset with what he was.

“Freddie, really. I’m not gonna tell. Why would I want to hurt both of you like that? I may not know a damn thing about actually dealing with this but I know that it’s got to be hard.”

They both remained silent for the next few minutes, John not pressing for any questions or even moving from his spot. Freddie’s body was still at a conflict with itself. Anger’s fight with his relief was the most obvious, making his stomach feel sick from the overwhelming, contrasting emotions quarreling with one another. He was relieved that John wasn’t going to blab about this to everyone but he couldn’t help but let those worrying thoughts convince him otherwise. How everyone was going to find out because he had screwed up or that they were going to make the same mistake eventually with a family member or Roger or a teacher. What if he bit someone because they got too nosey and followed them? What if their lives were ruined too because he’d screwed up in the first place?

“When did it happen?” John finally asked, Freddie returning to the present at his question.

His body turned to stone as all those memories he was trying to fight back from earlier resurfaced. That grim scene of the foreboding forest in front of him, darkness encapsulating him, the only light coming from the moon hanging above him, those deathly snarls from behind him while he clawed at the bloodstained grass, that orange gaze…

“T-third year…” He told him. “I-I had gone outside on the full moon a-and a rogue one was out near the forest…” He swallowed thickly. “It got me on my…my leg.” He instantly grabbed his left leg, feeling the protruding scar through his trousers. “Brian found me…”

“Are the…the other scars I saw from that one?”

“No…When they’re isolated they attack themselves. Almost every one I’ve on my body came from me.” He continued, John’s face going white at the admission.

“How did you hide it then? Surely you can’t just sneak outside like that?”

“John please…I-I don’t wanna talk about it right now.” He begged, his body still feeling stiff and uneasy after just telling him the most basic recreation of what had actually happened.

“That’s fine.” John told him softly. “That where you were last night though? Not just feeling ill.”

“Oh trust me!” He said with a crazed laugh. “You feel like your insides are poisoned when it actually happens! And before that you feel like your whole body isn’t yours and that you’re some host for a hungry parasite waiting to finally take it as its own.” He admitted, his body growing even sicker at the thought of the previous night. John, somehow, had grown paler at his outburst, Freddie wishing he could slap himself.

He sighed heavily and looked up at the ceiling. “I’m sorry…” Freddie said softly. “Everyone in this world hates us. Even most of us can’t stand what we are. L-letting anyone else know would e-end…badly.”

Pain and regret tore at his heart, pushing it right up against his throat. They had tried so hard and for so long to keep it hidden. So damn hard. Risking everyone’s safety around them by hiding him for an entire night, putting so much stress upon themselves to be leaps and bounds ahead of the rest of their year, and then having to lie to everyone they came across so that they wouldn’t dare think that. How could that be fair to the others who hadn’t done anything wrong? Hell, how was it fair to Brian who just wanted to protect him right from the start?

“I’m sorry…” John said solemnly. “I-I should’ve brought it up in a different way instead of just blurting it out.”

He forced out a painful laugh. “It wouldn’t have mattered…Nothing really matters to me.” He muttered. Doubt swarmed his mind, that old urge to have the beast from so long ago actually kill him. Maybe then he wouldn’t have to ruin everyone’s lives around him. At least then there wouldn’t always be the damn risk that he would end up killing someone.

“Y-You wanna go back up to the room? Might be better than, well, down here.”

Freddie nodded, John helping him up from his seat on the ground. Again, neither of them spoke as they made their way up to the Ravenclaw tower. He figured John wasn’t going to press for any more answers to the questions that were flying around in his head. Then there was himself. He was still pissed beyond belief that someone else had found out. Yes, he was happy that it was John, someone whom he was close to, and that he hadn’t reacted negatively. But there was still that ever-sickening feeling that this ploy they had kept up for so long had finally started to come to a close. Someone else knew about it. It wasn’t just their secret anymore. They didn’t have any control over John and if it ever slipped out to Roger-

“Freddie? The riddle.”

He snapped out of his trance, looking down at the metallic eagle that was awaiting his answer. He asked for it to repeat it, giving the answer a moment later and heading into the common room.

“C’mon then. You can hang out in here for a bit.” Freddie offered.

“Are we allowed to-”

“It’s a holiday anyway. Teachers aren’t going to give a shit about that right now.” He explained, watching as John hesitantly stepped inside.

“It’s so different from Hufflepuff’s.” He commented. “Lot more blue.”

“That tends to happen when your house colors are blue and gold.” Freddie said.

“Yeah…But there’s this different feel with it too.” John replied as they continued into the common room. “Have you ever been inside another house?”

“Only Gryffindor. Roger had us over in there one night because of a party after they’d won the Quidditch Cup.”

“Lord you should see him at one of those games! He’s such a prominent voice in the crowd I can hear him across the field.”

“It’s Roger, what’d you expect? The guy could be heard from across the school!”

The two of them sat down inside of the common room, each taking a seat on the opposing couches while John’s face continued to darken. On the other hand, his eyes were starting to brighten up at whatever thoughts were roaming around in his mind after the mere mention of his boyfriend.

“Well someone’s getting all shy!” Freddie announced, John pulling a bashful grin a second after.

“W-well yes. Oh Fred you know what he’s like but he’s just so wonderful.” He gushed as he clasped his hands while he nervously kept his arms between his legs. “He actually is quite sweet. You know that anyway. But he’s so selfless and energetic that I could watch him for hours. He always puts everyone else above him to keep them safe and I swear he’d take a death spell right to his chest to save any of us. Just ‘cause he’s a bit loud at times doesn’t eliminate that.”

“Look at you, standing up for your boyfriend.” Freddie said, grinning as his face went even darker at the comment.

“You’re one to talk. Roger’s told me all you two did when he got here was frot over one another in public.” John retorted.

“Just like you two are doing now so hush.”

“Prat.”

“Bitch.”

Both of them gave a heavy fit of laughter, John’s embarrassment vanishing in an instant. Freddie leaned back into the couch, sighing as he stared up at the intricate designs across the ceiling of the common room. You gotta tell Bri while John’s here. It’s gonna kill him though. It’s better than lying. What if he gets mad at him? He’s not. John’s fine. He’s okay with it. Just remember that, he’s okay with it.

…

It was nearing mid-afternoon, the castle still alive with those who were in it. Brian made his way into the Ravenclaw tower, pushing some old papers down to the bottom of his bag as he shut the door behind him. The flames cast that soothing blue light along the walls, the heat hitting his face as soon as he entered, Brian’s whole body relaxing after spending ages in that frozen dungeon of a classroom.

As he entered the common room, he immediately took notice of Freddie and John sitting in the couches, still chatting about whatever it was they were talking about. The room went deathly silent, any sort of cheer vanishing and was replaced with cold fear. Freddie soon took notice of him, his gaze going dark as John fell silent as well. His face was more fearful than Freddie’s. Why? Well that he didn’t know…

“Freddie, what happened? You two look petrified.” He asked instantly, not wanting to ignore anything bad that might’ve happened, especially with Freddie being in that vulnerable position after this morning. “Something happen with Roger? Or your parents?”

The only response he got was a shrug from John and a shake of the head from Freddie. He dropped his stuff onto the ground and headed over, sitting on the couch Freddie was sat on. Guilt and fear was etched into his face, forcing him to look over to John. A similar one sat upon his face with lines of worry mixed in.

“Brian…” John started. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was this, well, big.” He stated, swallowing thickly after getting his sentence out.

“Wait, what’s ‘big’?” He asked. His mind instantly went to Freddie breaking down without him around, suddenly throwing it all onto John. It’d explain the worry on John’s face and the guilt on Freddie’s. But why the fear on both of theirs?

“He…He knows.” Freddie muttered in a venomous voice. His grip tightened around his body as Brian’s stomach instantly shrunk, the blood draining from his face.

“A-about what?” He asked. A small sliver of hope sat at the back of his mind. That John had only guessed about some other ridiculous thing. But that terrible look in Freddie’s eyes shut down any kind of chance it was really about anything but that.

“I-I didn’t mean to intrude on it…Honestly! I-I just…Noticed some stuff and took a guess…” John stuttered, obviously terrified that he would lash out at him.

“B-but how?” We were so careful.

“I-I saw some of those…scars on Freddie’s torso. Him missing on the night of the full moon only strengthened my guess…I brought it up to him earlier and well…”

He paused, his eyes still wide with fear. Brian leaned back, holding his stomach to try and control the storm of emotions that were swarming around in his mind. Confusion was the most prominent, sadness lurking beneath it with a twinge of anger at himself for not doing a better job at keeping it hidden from anyone else. Everyone’s gonna know and it’s your fault. You can’t protect him if they all know.

“Brian, I-I promise I won’t tell anyone! Even Roger. I’m okay with…with being quiet about it.” John mentioned.

His grip on the door tightened as he shut it behind him. The smallest twinge of anger began to boil up with that dazing crash of desperation. He managed a look over at Freddie, his face hanging low as he avoided any eye contact with him.

“Please…Please don’t tell anyone. We’ve kept it between us since third year.” He told John in a low voice. “You know how people would react to it. It’d spread everywhere. Two students keeping it a secret from the most prodigious school around here? God, all three of us would be hounded or isolated…”

“I know…Trust me, I know. People never take kindly to these sorts of things and finding out their kids have been at school with a werewolf wouldn’t be taken lightly.”

Freddie’s whole body twitched as his jaw clenched up at the mere mention of the beast’s name. He laid his hand on top of his leg, Freddie not even looking over or even registering that he had touched him. John pulled himself into a closed position laying his arms loosely around his knees that were now pressed up against his chest.

“I-I don’t know if it would mean much…” John began, looking nervously up at both of them. “I-I mean I get keeping it a secret but I didn’t think nobody else knew. Heh…Two students managing to keep a secret that long and little ol’ me noticed it before a teacher.” John paused, looking towards them before going back to his original statement. “But I don’t mind helping out. I-if you want I mean…”

Brian’s curiosity broke through the rest of his emotions. John took notice of this and brightened up a bit, pushing himself up and pulling a weak smile. “I-I mean two is better than one, right? And Fred…I know you didn’t want anyone else to know but I’m okay with helping you two out. If anyone gets on your case I’ll stand up for you or if you need any help when Brian can’t be there, I can take his place.” He paused, looking down at the ground again. “I don’t know how hard it’s been on you two for the past few years…But now that I do know what’s going on, I don’t want to sit around and do nothing. I wanna be there and help out the best I can.”

He looked over at his partner, seeing a slightly hopeful light in his still dark eyes. Freddie managed to push himself up, looking over at John whose happiness had immediately vanished. John shrunk back as Freddie crossed his legs and leaned forward, balancing himself on his elbows on top of his legs.

“I’m alright with it.” Freddie stated bluntly. “John, just please don’t tell anyone. Don’t let the teachers or another student know, alright?”

“Yeah! Yeah that’s fine!” He piped out, adding a glance his way. “Brian, this can at least take some stress off of you. Having an extra hand should help out a bit and now you don’t have to make up shit with just me anymore.”

He was hesitant. They’d gone so long on their own with this. How could they suddenly bring someone in? There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that John would be quiet. But there was still such a risk having someone else involved, especially someone younger than both of them. Roger would be furious if John ever got infected and wouldn’t stop until he found out who did it. If he ever found out it was one of his best friends…it’d crush him to have to choose. Then what would they do? Harbor another werewolf in the school? Hell he had no idea what two of them in the same room would do to each other…

Yet out of their two friends, John most certainly was the one who, if he had to choose, he’d rather have find out. He practically worshipped learning how to defend himself against these sorts of creatures and was easily at Roger’s level in that class. He loved all those magical creatures too and that did include what Freddie was. Plus, he was their friend. He wasn’t going to go talk about it to others if they told him not to.

“Alright…I mean, we’ve time before anything has to be done.” Brian said while scratching the back of his head. “But I mean…It shouldn’t be terrible. Thanks, really.”

“For what?”

“Not telling. The help too.” Brian finished, John merely shrugging and pulling a much more convincing smile than earlier. Brian couldn’t fight the one spreading on his face either. The sheer relief of it all that John wasn’t going to spill the secret out was truly something he had only hoped for if they ever found out. Freddie too seemed a bit better, albeit still looking a bit upset for whatever reason.

“Is there anything you want me to do? I mean, I know it was last night. I can get something if you use a healing potion or maybe-”

“They don’t bloody work.” Freddie growled venomously.

“No John. It’s alright.” Brian interjected, wishing he hadn’t seen the scared reaction from John. He searched quickly for some kind of conversation changer. “Isn’t it time for dinner?”

“Aren’t you two gonna eat?”

“Later. Don’t worry, we’ll be fine.” Brian continued. Though he was hungry, Brian couldn’t help but see that pleading shadow in Freddie’s eyes that begged him to stay. Something lurked at the corner of his gaze, his mouth ever so slightly open, the sentence he wanted to say hanging at the edge of his lips.

John merely nodded, getting up and straightening out his clothes. He gave a quick goodbye before heading out, Freddie getting himself into an even more closed position and staring into the blazing fire.

“It’s my fault…” He admitted absently. “He…I was in the bathroom yesterday a-and looked under my shirt. John came in and…”

“Freddie, it’s alright. People have scars.” Brian told him. “Besides, I’m sure your parents have seen them at least once. John’s just an animal geek. That’s the only reason why he noticed.”

“So? What if Roger walked in…?” He asked, Brian already knowing what scenario was going through his head.

“Fred…I highly doubt Roger would hate you. Or anyone for that matter. If John’s okay with it, surely other people would. As I said, the only real reason John knew was because he’s obsessed with this stuff, not because we made it obvious.”

But even Brian could barely believe his words. While it wasn’t a giant leap for John to guess at what happened to Freddie, it still took a good amount of observation. What if others did know? And they just didn’t tell them or speculated it with others and were called crazy? His stomach grew sick at the thought. Brian these are kids. They’re not going to be that smart. John only found out because he obsesses over these sorts of things and hangs out with us all the time.

“It’s alright. It’s John anyway. He’s our friend and he’s already shown to be more than happy to help out. He’s not mad or anything. That’s good, right?”

“I know it’s meant to be a good thing.” Freddie began, pushing himself up and putting his focus down onto the ground. “But still…I should’ve been more careful or told him that it was just a bad dog attack or even a bad encounter with a hippogriff so he’d drop the thought.” He paused, running his hand through his hair and heaving a heavy sigh. “I just can’t believe our luck that he’s actually alright with this.”

“He’s our friend. He wants to help and yeah he’ll be a bit naïve with it at first; he’ll get used to it quickly.”

“And Roger’s our friend too and we know how he feels about this sort of stuff. Oh yes let’s kick all of them out of society because of the threat they pose. I’m close to agreeing with him.”

“Fred don’t think that. It’s Roger. You know what happened with his grandfather. If he even found out about what happened to you I doubt he’d isolate you. He might actually try to find that one for you!” He tried in his best hopeful voice, glad to see a small light back in Freddie’s eyes.

“It’s just scary. We’ve been doing this by ourselves for so long…”

“I know but now this can be easier! John knows so much on how to deal with these creatures and all those other ones at night and how to defend him and us against them pretty damn well.” You know there’s a chance he could get hurt too…He’s younger than both of you and Freddie won’t forgive himself if he hurt anyone. He shook his head, shooing the thoughts out of his mind and laying his hand atop Freddie’s lap. Freddie gave him a hopeful look too, pulling a weak smile and leaning over, throwing his arms around his neck and pulling his body closer. Brian sighed softly, savoring the warm touch of his lover’s body and running his fingers through his hair, gladly taking the time to enjoy the fleeting moment of peace.

…

The bed creaked loudly, suddenly taking Brian out of his sleep as he looked over to see Freddie baring that sweet smile and clad in what he assumed was a new sweater and an old pair of trousers. He could already hear Twilight and Clover down the stairs, chattering away while they waited for him to wake up.

“C’mon love, John’s waiting downstairs too. I invited him to come up here with us for the morning.” Freddie told him.

After blinking the remaining sleep out of his eyes, the realization that it was Christmas morning struck him like a boulder. He sat right up, giving his head a quick shake and looking over at his boyfriend who was holding out his hand to help him up. Without hesitation, he took the help and Freddie helped him out of bed, his lover flattening out his wrinkled pajamas for him and untying the knot on his trousers.

“It’s Christmas morning. No need to look formal for John and me.” He explained softly.

Sweet pastry scents wafted up from the common room, those decadent warm fruits and spices making his stomach growl. John was sitting in front of the fireplace once again, gently petting Twilight while Clover groomed herself. Miscellaneous gifts were around the couch, each with a little nametag with its correspondent written in various fonts, depending on who it was from. Right on top was a large box that held his mother’s script on the little tag and Brian could almost smell the desserts through the wrapping.

John reached out to the small platter in front of him that held the various pastries, deciding to take a danish with a yellow center. Freddie took a seat next to the gifts, Brian sitting next to him and taking one of the sweets with a red center and white drizzle.

“Happy Christmas Bri!” John said happily after he swallowed his bite. “I’d brought up some stuff from the dining hall so we could eat together. Found it more fun than being down in the dining hall to be honest.”

“Good idea there. Honestly, that place isn’t the best, full or empty.” Brian admitted after taking a bite of his pastry, feeling glad to find that it was a strawberry flavored one.

Each began opening their presents. John’s family hadn’t sent him anything besides a small wrapped brownie that seemed to have gone stale or was as hard as a rock anyway. On the other hand, Roger’s gift of an old signed copy of Fantastic Beasts immediately brightened his mood as he held it close to his chest and delicately laid it next to his lap. Both he and Freddie had chipped in on getting him a new scarf that was charmed to become the colors of one’s house along with a few treats from Honeydukes. Brian had brought out his penguin that his parents had gotten him and let the small pin waddle around at his side, only to fall silent a moment later. His mother had, as expected, sent another whole basket of homemade desserts ranging from her own fudge to mini muffins stuffed with miscellaneous fruits or chocolate.

“Oh fuck! I left your gift upstairs, gimme a second Bri.” Freddie said suddenly, leaping up from his seat and dashing back upstairs.

The fire sparked violently, yanking his attention away from Freddie as he turned towards the fire that was now devouring the brownie that John’s family had sent him, tearing at the old plastic and treating it like a piece of charcoal. Resentment burned beneath his eyes while the expected sadness still lingered.

“I’m sorry they’re like this even at Christmas.” Brian told him softly.

“Like it matters. They’re like this anyway. God just because-” John started, his anger starting to rise to the surface, only to be cut off by Freddie heading back into the room with two packages on top of his scrawny arms, the massive one giving him the most trouble. John got up, not saying anything else about what was on his mind and helped Freddie carry the package over to him.

“You’ve no idea how hard it was to keep it hidden for so long! All those muggles nearly killing me while I tried to get it. But I just had to get it for you.” Freddie said with a grin.

Without even waiting a second, Brian tore open the packaging, seeing a large brown box inside of it. He ripped the tape off, opening it up to find a brand-new record player sitting inside. He immediately went speechless, quickly turning over to hug his lover while trying to keep it steady on his lap.

“How’d you even guess-”

“I know how much you adore muggle music and you having to go months without listening to anything is dreadful. Besides, what good is wizard music all the time anyway?” He finished, motioning towards the second gift he’d gotten.

In an instant, he was on the thin package, tearing off the wrapping paper and staring wide-eyed at the new Beatles’ album A Hard Day’s Night.

“Jesus Fred! How’d you even get a copy? They were sold out the day it came out where I lived.” John exclaimed, leaning forward to marvel at the new album.

“I have my ways. Glad I got it though. Almost had to tear it out of some broad’s hand and keeping it hidden was a pain in the ass.”

“Freddie…really, thank you!” Brian said breathlessly as he delicately placed it on the couch behind him. He reached over to the last gift that was under the tree, seeing Freddie’s name scrawled out in his own handwriting. Excitement began bubbling up inside of him, only growing stronger with every passing second.

“Now your gift.” He began as he handed it off to him. “I hope you’ll like it.”

He watched as Freddie slowly opened up the gift, staring with his mouth gaping open at the old grey cat that rolled back and forth on the covers beneath her in the little picture on the top of the book. Her green eyes looked directly at him, her mouth moving as though she was letting out a meow. Freddie opened up the little book, seeing a bunch of moving pictures of his dear Charlotte over the years that Brian had taken. His finger traced along one from their first year, Freddie holding Charlotte up to his face and baring a wide grin, his eyes beaming with adoration and the scene ending with him breaking out into a laugh.

“That one was from when we first began hanging out.” Brian explained, Freddie only giving a sad smile as he looked down at the picture of his beloved cat.

“Oh lord I miss her…” He commented while looking across at the other pictures that were on the first page of the book. He wiped away the small tear that was falling down across the side of his face. “Thank you Bri…” He finished, leaning forward and replicating his hug from earlier.

With all the gifts unwrapped, the three of them had only a mere second to relax after cleaning up all the wrapping paper. A deep hoot sounded from outside, an insistent pecking soon following.

“Zephyr!” John shouted as he got up, unlocking the window and letting in the giant snowy owl. A large, green envelope sat inside of his beak, Roger’s handwriting sitting on the front.

“Just in time.” John said to himself as he took the letter out of Zephyr’s mouth, handing him a piece of bread from the breakfast platter, the owl giving a loud hoot afterwards.

“Thanks…I dunno how it got here so fast.”

“He must’ve gotten it out as soon as he got home.” Freddie suggested as he came over and began petting Roger’s owl, it’s giant yellow eyes brightening up as he gladly took to Freddie’s gentle stroking.

However, John had gone silent, hardly listening to anything Freddie had just said. Brian sat up a bit, trying to get a better view of John from his seat on the couch. His hand was cupping the side of his face as he read Roger’s letter to himself, his eyes going slightly misty while reading it.

“Oh he’s such a sweetheart. A complete dork at that…But still.” John whispered as he tucked it away in his side pocket. He looked up at the both of them, looking slightly embarrassed at his reaction. “It’s the first Christmas we’ve spent apart…Least since we got here.”

He walked over to where Freddie was standing, holding out his arm for Zephyr to jump onto. The large bird gladly did, John leading it over to the window and letting him fly out. John stared out into the sky, watching as the owl’s large frame grew smaller and smaller until it vanished from sight.

“Why didn’t you go back?” Brian asked as he stood up and headed over to where Freddie was standing. “Did something happen at home again?”

“Nothing different from the usual.” John told them bluntly. “Why else do you think Roger never stays at my place?”

“You still could’ve stayed at his. He did offer…” Freddie brought up.

“And his family would’ve questioned me about why I was there and not with my family and I just didn’t want to deal with that. Not again. Besides…P-part of it was because of you Fred.”

“Me?”

“I…I was worried about you two.” He admitted. He turned to face them and leaned back onto the windowsill. “This would be the third year you two have stayed back here. It’s not like you two are falling behind in class and would fail if you took time off.” He paused, looking regretful as though he had done something terribly wrong. “A-after I saw you in the restroom earlier this week…I thought something was up and decided to stay back in case something happened. It really only hit me that night of what might’ve been going on and I didn’t want to have had that realization back home while you two dealt with it again by yourselves.”

John looked up at both of them, concern darkening his eyes while hope lit them right back up. Brian looked down at his partner, a guilty and hating shadow casting itself over his face as he wrapped his arms around his stomach. He brought his hand up to the center of his back, running his hand across his spine while he brought his hand up to his mouth and nervously chewed at his nails.

“Honestly…I thought I was being ridiculous about it. But I guess stupid things can be the truth.” John bit down on his lower lip. “I-I guess what I’m saying is that I wanna help. I-I know a lot about them and, as said, some more help should be a good thing. I promise I won’t tell anyone! If anything happens to Bri then you’ve me and…” His voice trailed off as he looked down at the ground. “I’m sorry for confronting you like that. I didn’t know how else to bring it up. I hadn’t known but now that I do I wanna be there to help you guys out. You’re my friends. I don’t want to sit by and do nothing when I could help out with this.”

“We kept it secret for so long…” Freddie said absentmindedly. “I-I thought we were doing the right thing or just enough so no one would ever confront us about it.”

Brian felt his body tense up for a split second as Freddie’s jaw clenched. “John…Thank you…really. I’d be fine with having you help out.”

His face brightened up. “A-and you Fred?” He asked hopefully, Freddie giving a small nod in response. “T-thanks! I-I’ll try my best to help out with this. I mean…Being a werewolf is hard enough in itself-Fred you okay?”

As soon as the sentence left John’s mouth, Freddie freed himself from his hold around him and crossed his arms over his chest, looking down at the ground and sighing loudly. “I know what I am…Just not used to hearing it aloud.”

The room fell silent as John headed over to where they were standing. Brian could only think back to when he and Freddie had been discussing it with Madame Jones. Ever since then neither of them had dared to say it and even the sheer mentioning of the beast by name would only make Freddie feel even worse. He hadn’t ever slipped up with it and all he could hope for was that John would learn eventually not to bring it up. Even though he knew John had a lot to learn about what was going on, Brian could only focus on how different it’d be now that someone else knew about what they had kept secret for so long.

#Such a shocker #Moonlight Magic #Fanfiction

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remnantchoices · 7 years

Text

Remnant Choices (A1S1P7): Topple

[Continued from here.]

You consider your options with care. After weighing the outcomes of each choice, you realize that it would be best to go with balanced teams. There are too many unknowns in the fight ahead to commit to a more one-sided plan. Better to engage it first, to learn something about it, to actually comprehend how it fights, than to just to dive in.

You turn to the others and say, “I agree with Halina- we just don’t know enough to commit ourselves to a narrow approach. We’ll go in teams of two.”

Everyone nods their assent. After a brief discussion, you form teams to complement each other’s offense and defense. Pallav and Ulrich, who are old friends, stay together. You team with Halina, so you can guard her with your shield if need be. Metim teams with Xia, so he can pepper the Grimm with shots while Xia moves in to engage. Everyone nears their partner, confirms the plan, and then you set out.

It isn’t long before you can make out the Grimm on the road ahead. It still appears to be sleeping, but thanks to Halina’s intervention, you’re expecting it to be awake. You motion with your hands for the party to split up- you and Halina take the center, Pallav and Ulrich take the left, and Metim and Xia take the right. And, after everyone nods in agreement, you all burst apart. You dash forward, shield held aloft, Halina a few steps behind you.

You’re not surprised when the Grimm springs to its feet. But, damn, is it large- it is somewhere between a lithe Goliath and an over-sized Ursa. And it looks wicked- it has jagged, curling spurs of bone jutting out as ridges over its eyes, veins of red luminescence running along its back, and a barbed, pliant tail. It dives forward, then rears upwards, and snarls ferociously at you.

You keep charging.

It runs at you.

You have to keep charging.

Its mouth opens as it lopes closer.

You have flashbacks to earlier.

It leaps, raising its paw.

You raise your sword.

The gilded woman’s presence suffuses you with heat.

The Grimm’s claws come downward to rake you mid-stride-

You dig into the ground and shout, and with a titanic swing you launch an arc of fire at its paw.

It yowls, leaps back, and Halina leaps clean over you. She spins in mid-air, a barrage of knives flying from her hands and sleeves. The Grimm flicks its tail too fast, deflecting the knives. Halina drops to the ground, to her knees, then twirls into a standing position, hands and eyes glowing lilac. The knives fly back to her, but she continues her spin and slingshots them right back at the Grimm. It bats at them, but some sink into its paw. Halina beckons to you, yelling, “Come on!”

You sprint forward at the surprised Grimm. Halina dives in close, drawing her claw-like daggers from within her coat. The Grimm swipes at her, but she ducks and rolls, ending her roll under its body. She slices at its legs, and it tries to leap backwards, but Metim and Xia are already in position, and Metim is placing his shots carefully at the Grimm’s exposed back.

It whirls to face the new threat.

Halina goes to give chase, but the tail comes streaking down to strike her- and you dive to her side, trying to deflect the attack with your shield. The tail clatters off of the shield, but it comes back down, once, twice more. You’re trying to hold the shield over you and Halina, trying to block, your eyes trained on the barbs- and then the Grimm whips around again, batting you aside with one paw and knocking Metim to his feet with its tail. The tail wraps around his leg, then the Grimm swipes you so hard you’re bowled right over, knocked off your feet.

Xia jumps in, and she’s deftly swinging a weapon that consists of a copper ball attached to a lengthy rope. She casts it away, then snaps it back, windmilling the copper head to smash into the Grimm’s tail. It twitches and releases Metim, Xia throws her leg up, allowing the rope to catch on it- and you take the moment to scramble back to your feet. Xia’s technique is mesmerizing, but you have to move.

The demonic tiger is fighting all of you at once. Even as Xia snaps another arcing attack at the tail, a paw comes in to swipe you again. You duck in time, but then it kicks up a small wave of mud that splashes along your visor. You can still see just enough to watch the Grimm deflect Xia’s next attack. Metim uses his quarterstaff to parry a couple of swipes from the tail to defend Xia, who focuses on regaining the momentum her weapon needs. And then the Grimm pounces on Halina, catching her in its paws. You shout and start running, but someone sprints past you in a flash- Pallav.

Pallav is glowing green, and there’s a sigil traced along the back of his duster. You whirl around to see Ulrich chanting, his eyes trained on Pallav. There’s a scrap of paper floating in front of Ulrich, and it is glowing green with the same sigil that’s on Pallav.

You turn to Pallav again, in time to see his spear transform and extend. And then he leaps forward, slamming the extending spear into the ground, using it like a vaulting pole to launch himself upwards.

He sails clear over the Grimm’s back, his spear beginning to retract again, and then you hear Ulrich shout. Pallav freezes in mid-air with a flash of green light, then he’s launched downwards, right at the Grimm. He plunges his spear into the Grimm’s back.

It drops Halina, arches its back, and buckles, trying to shake Pallav off. Pallav grabs one of the beast’s bone crests, then his spear retracts further, transforming into a short, dense blade. He starts swiping at the Grimm, pushing off from the crest he’s clutching.

“Metim, Xia- move in, cover me!” You shout, running towards Halina. She’s on the ground, dazed, and Pallav won’t last up on the Grimm much longer. You hear Metim snapping his weapon through another rapid transformation, and he fires off a few shots at the Grimm’s legs. Its tail, about to clobber Pallav, whips around to strike Metim. Xia’s ready to defend, though: she winds her weapon around her leg and casts it with a kick, striking the tail head-on.

You hit the dirt by Halina, pulling her to her feet. “I’m alright,” she splutters. “My Aura’s holding, but, I’m just a little shaken!”

You hear a shout, and a few yards away, Pallav is sent sprawling and splashing into the mud. The Grimm turns its full attention on Metim and Xia, who are solely focused on parrying it. Xia dances backwards, keeping her weapon swinging in a steady rhythm, casting the hammer at the tiger’s tail whenever it draws close. As the Grimm goes to close the distance between them, Metim, teeth barred, is forced into a flurry of motion.

He reforms his weapon, parries a swipe, breaks his weapon, twists away from the Grimm’s snapping jaws as they come in for a chomp, point-blank blasts its face, snaps his weapon together, jabs its neck, deflects the other paw, breaks his weapon, releases the blade, slices the paw as it comes back, spins, shoots at its face in a desperate attempt to drive it back, and he’s bellowing wordlessly, he can’t keep up, and Xia’s swearing-

Ulrich dives in, swinging a mace with a head composed of whorl of a Dust crystal. He bashes one of the oncoming paws away from Metim, then he throws a scrap of paper into the air and whacks it. Beams of light burst out of the paper, shredding it, then extending and enveloping him, Metim, and Xia. The Grimm slams the light-turned-cage, but the bars hold. Ulrich plucks another scrap of paper out of his bag, then throws it into the air. It ignites, and the light-cage bursts apart. The beams stream outward, then curl back around and wrap themselves around the Grimm’s front-right paw, dulling its claws.

It snarls and tries to chomp on Ulrich, but Metim’s quarterstaff forces its jaws back. It swipes at them instead, batting Xia aside. It twists to avoid Metim’s gunfire, then whips its tail and knocks Ulrich’s mace clean out of his hands. It brings the light-enshrouded paw to bear on Metim, whose shots bounce ineffectively off the barrier that had just protected him. Metim is bowled over, and you can hear a sharp report from his Aura, indicating that he can’t take much more.

The Grimm arches its back and roars at the sky.

You turn to Pallav, shouting, “Reform the groups- get over to Ulrich and get him on his feet!”

He dashes off, and you turn to Halina. “Can you-”

“I can- I’m ready,” she says, her brow furrowed.

“Follow my lead,” you say, “and go for its eyes when it turns!” You run after Pallav.

The Grimm turns to face the three of you. It swipes its dulled paw at Pallav, dead-on. You go to shout, but he doesn’t even move. One second, the paw’s about to clobber him, the next- his entire body flickers, and he passes through the paw unharmed. It must be his Semblance, you think. He shouts with the strain of using the ability, but keeps running. The Grimm, baffled, can’t turn to him again, though- you’re coming right at it.

You have just enough time to see Pallav slide to a halt alongside Ulrich, grab him under his arms, and hoist him to his feet. Then, you focus on the Grimm.

You light your shield ablaze, then chuck it at the beast’s face. Surprised by the fire, it stumbles, takes the hit- and just as you expected, the shield glows lilac and rebounds away, back to Halina. You snap your sword in two, then dive at the dazed Grimm, slicing at its underbelly as you run underneath it. You keep running, between its hind legs, and reach the side where Metim and Xia are.

They’re getting back on their feet when the Grimm turns to face you, but you shout, “Scatter- get Ulrich to launch me on go!”

They dash away as the beast rushes towards you. Both your swords aflame, you lunge and slice at its paws, forcing it to step back. You hear a burst of gunfire- weakened as he is, Metim is lingering nearby, trying to distract the Grimm. You hear Xia bellow, “Ready!”

The gunfire stops, and the Grimm darts forward, ready to pounce on you like it did to Halina.

You brace yourself, then shout, “Go!”

The Grimm’s body looms over you, about to drop.

And something crashes into you-

You’re blasted forward-

Underneath the Grimm-

-and you slam face-first into the dirt.

You stagger to your feet, dazed, your Aura weakened. Turning, you see Ulrich rolling in the dirt by you, clutching a scrap of paper. “You tackled me?” You’re shouting, dumbfounded.

“Hhh- winded,” he wheezes. “Can’t just- hh- launch, not how- hh- Semblance works.”

The Grimm, a fair distance away now, is just staring at you, nonplussed. Then, a series of glowing purple darts slice into its snout. Before it can whirl on Halina, Metim and Xia jump in, distracting the beast yet again. You look for Pallav- but he’s already here, kneeling by Ulrich, hoisting him up again. “Sorry, yeah,” Pallav says, “he’s a little useless sometimes, but you can take a real beating, can’t you, pal?”

Ulrich grunts vaguely in response.

“Anyway,” Pallav continues, “I got him now, so don’t worry- just go.”

You nod, then hurry back towards Halina, who’s waiting for you to turn the Grimm before she attacks again. As you close the distance between you and her, she tosses your shield back to you, shouting, “Here!”

You snap your blades together again, equip the shield, and pop out the concealed blade. Xia and Metim are hanging in there, but they’ve completely given up on attacking. They’re focusing solely on dodging the Grimm’s strikes.

“Everyone,” you bellow, “get back!”

You point the shield’s blade at the Grimm, then focus your mind on the Dust crystal at its core. The gilded woman aids you, and the shield pulses with heat. It launches an undulating globule of fire at the Grimm. The fire connects, splashing over the Grimm, and it howls and retreats from all of you.

You pump your fist and shout, and Halina dashes forward, ready to attack while the Grimm is blinded. She leaps, casting dagger after dagger at the Grimm’s snout. It is too disoriented to block, and each of her throws hits home. The Grimm, its strength finally flagging, roars in defiance. Halina lands and begins to use her Semblance to call her daggers back.

Pallav rushes in, backed up by Ulrich. The former stops short, takes aim, and hurls his spear at the Grimm’s flank, The latter throws several scraps of paper into the air. They all burst into flame, but their ashes multiple and condense, forming several shadowy clones of the spear that Pallav just hurled. Pallav plucks two of the spears from the air, one for each hand, and the rest of the replicas revolve in the air and drive themselves at the Grimm.

Metim and Xia have circled behind it, and they attack its legs as it tries to bat the spears away with its tail and paws. The Grimm lunges at Pallav, trying to snap its jaws on him, but Ulrich swings his mace in a vicious uppercut, slamming the Grimm’s head back.

This is it, you realize. Everything’s coming together- you go to throw yourself in the fray as well-

-and someone runs past you from behind, sprinting forward towards the Grimm. It isn’t Halina- Halina is still behind you-

-the Grimm rears itself up, trying to rally, and spins to face Xia and Metim, the ones with the least Aura left to defend themselves. It raises its unhindered paw all the way, preparing to crush them-

-and the person- a girl- blasts herself upward, light glinting off of her gold and white armor. She brings a broad blade to bear, and resolutely slashes the Grimm’s paw.

The Grimm roars, and when the girl lands on the ground, a severed paw hits the ground beside her.

It immediately dissipates into shadows, and the Grimm topples over.

You pull up short, but she turns to you, and yells, “Finish it!”

The Grimm totters to its remaining feet, hardly any strength left.

And the realization hits you- this is it. You can give this fight, this victory, this moment to anyone. And they’ll never forget it.

Who will you choose?

1. Team A- You and Halina.

2. Team B- Metim and Xia.

3. Team C- Pallav and Ulrich.

4. Team D- The girl.

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