#AND RIP AND TEAR AND MAUL AND CRY IN THE MORNING AFTER DOING ALL OF IT!!!! RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[kindheartedgummybears]

you wanna know what??

I am

TIRED

of overmasculinized werewolves!!!!

I WANNA SEE A

WEREWOLF

WALKING AROUND IN A CVNTY LITTLE OUTFIT!!! WALKING THE STREETS!!!! DISEMBOWELING CREATURES!!!!

I WANNA SEE WEREWOLVES COVERED IN BLOOD AND GORE WHILE WEARING A SHORT SKIRT AND CROPTOP WITH HELLO KITTY ON IT!!!!

I WANNA SEE A WEREWOLF WALKING AROUND IN COTTAGE AND FAIRY AND PRINCESS CORE OUTFITS!!!!!! WITH A DEAD MANGLED RABBIT IN ITS MOUTH!!!!

AND MAKE THE WEREWOLF

D I S G U S T I N G ! ! !

#i am TIRED of seeing all these manly man werewolves that are all copy and paste white boys #I am TIRED of seeing all these woman werewolves being butch and masculine(also mostly white) or submissive!!! #I WANNA SEE SOME PLUS-SIZE WEREWOLVES I WANNA SEE SOME BLACK ASIAN LATINO MIDDLE EASTERN NON WHITE WEREWOLVES!!!!! THAT ARNT F3TIZIED!!!!! #I WANNA SEE A G I R L WEREWOLF THATS INTO “G I R L Y” THINGS!!!!! LET THE WEREWOLF BE A SLVT!!!!! #LET THE WEREWOLF BE IN THE TRADITIONAL CLOTHING OF ITS CULTURE!!!! #AND RIP AND TEAR AND MAUL AND CRY IN THE MORNING AFTER DOING ALL OF IT!!!! RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #no but fr can we werewolf fans like. actually sit down and reflect on the inherent misogyny of werewolves??? ESPECIALLY IN MEDIA #like. almost EVERY. SINGLE. WEREWOLF. in movies and shows and stuff are always a buff white man with anger and trust issues #and on the rare occasion that there *is* a woman werewolf shes always either over masculine or “weaker” than the “stronger alpha male” were #olf and only seen as a mate. AND shes always “calmer” and “maternal” and “calms the alpha male down🥺🥺”.AND she never has an actually good #werewolf form its always either wolf tail and ears or full wolf. or if it *is* actually a decent werewolf her transformation is offscreen. #like whyyyyyyyyyyyyy are people so scared to make women go ape shit?????? werewolves are NOT pretty creatures!!!! STOP MAKING THEM PRETTY!! #(lmao jk we know why they're so scared hashtag male gaze) #like yes. werewolves ARE pretty but not in the “dog show 30k$ poodle” kind of way i see some people making them(not that that's bad tho) #AND ALSO LIKE. ARE WE JUST GOING TO PRETEND WEREWOLVES LITERALLY WEREN'T MADE FOR WOMEN AND MINORITIES??? #like. once a month someone turns into a raging bloodthirsty unstoppable beast driven by the moon and instincts with an insatiable hunger an #need to hide away from people due to them wanting to kill you or fearing you simply because you're a werewolf. they don't know you. they ju #t see you as a creature that might hurt them. constantly being hunted down to be killed simply for existing. #WHAT PART OF THAT SCREAMS: “ah yes. White man.” #IK theres going be people(men and pick mes) that see this post and think “this bitch is overreacting” and tbh idc.the girls who get it get #the girls who dont dont. #anyways shout out to Ginger Snaps trick or treat and every other piece of media or fan piece with disgusting non-f3tiszied woman/poc werewo #i love yall #*smooch smooch* #Werewolves #Werewolf #Lycanthrope #Lycanthropy #Werewolf AU #Yeah. Im tagging that too. I see yall.

[secretwhumplair]

Hunt

698 words | The monster of Lindborough

Prompt

Content | Werewolf whumpee, starvation, outcast, animal death, some gore/blood

Notes | Here we go, new story! This is more of a prelude. Maybe I’ll make this my Camp NaNo project and actually finish it so it’s out of the way and I can get back to. Doing the other things.

The wolf was starving. It had been on its own for months now, and it was not practiced in fending for itself, but that didn’t matter now; being a wolf, only the present mattered.

The hunger in its belly.

The scent of prey on the wind.

It trotted across the land at a steady pace, the full moon pouring silver light over the hills, until it set eyes on what the wind had already shown it: a herd of sheep, fenced into their paddock for the night.

It knew this sort of prey could incur danger, but now, its hunger was far more pressing than its fear.

Dawn was coming, and there wasn’t much time left.

In a flash, it was over the fence and onto the first sheep it ran into. The herd tried to run, but had nowhere to go, and the sheep under it barely had room to struggle before the wolf ripped out its throat, the rich taste of blood filling its mouth.

Before the wolf could finally feast, vicious barking tore through the quiet night, and teeth sank into its hind leg faster than it could turn around; a second dog sprang at it from the side; but neither had a chance against its massive size, even emaciated as it was, its bigger, stronger teeth, its longer, sharper claws, or the fury burning within it for the thieves that would steal its prey. Within moments, the fight was over, one dog lying by the sheep it died to protect, on retreating in whines and whimpers, bleeding from gashes in its side and snout.

The wolf let it go, instead tearing into the sheep, greedily filling its belly with meat and quenching the hunger it had carried for so long, until the first light of dawn bloomed into the sky.

The light touched it, cruelly, and the wolf’s bones broke, reducing it, now, to wails and whines as its body shifted, tore apart inside, regrew all wrong.

Joy Wilson came to lay in the cold morning light, panting, still crying with pain, the taste of blood still in his mouth.

The mauled sheep still beside him.

It was the first time in months his belly was even half-full, and he only wanted to throw up, fear seizing up his insides. He’d done it. He had killed a sheep, a sheep that belonged to someone, someone who would come after him and kill him, or worse.

He was a monster.

Ever since he had been cast out from his village after being bitten, he had wandered, not wanting to hurt those he knew and once loved him, had avoided human settlements as best as he could not to bring harm to other innocents. He had tried to sustain himself on what he found in the wild, but it had never been enough, and clearly, not enough to keep the wolf satisfied.

It didn’t have a sense of right or wrong. It only had hunger and fury.

»What’s up, Harp- oh no, poor pup - what-«

Icy panic pierced through Joy. The still air carried the sound of shepherd’s step even on the soft grass, and he barely managed to get up before the boy came into view. His look shifting from worry to horror made him instantly, keenly aware of how he looked - unkempt, naked, covered in blood.

For a moment that seemed to last way too long, they only looked at each other. Words died on the way to Joy’s mouth - to beg for forgiveness, or to reassure, or he wasn’t even sure himself what.

Then the shepherd started screaming at the top of his lungs, turned on his heel and ran, yelling, »Werewolf! Werewolf! Help!«

For a moment, a dark thought crossed Joy’s mind - he could transform again, and hunt the boy down before he could get help - but he didn’t want to cause more harm, didn’t want to hurt, much less kill, and then the aftershocks of his most recent transformation were still echoing through his body.

He couldn’t do it. He could only turn and run, hopelessly, in the opposite direction, only waiting for the inevitable hunting party to come over him.

#whump #whump writing #werewolf whumpee #werewolf whump #starvation #my writing #the monster of lindborough #joy wilson

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Bound By Blood - Geralt of Rivia x (f)reader - Part 2

Summary: Geralt has learned of a mysterious witch and her supposed vicious familiar, now he must hunt to bring them down for their crimes.

Warning: blood & gore, angst, bit o fluff, things getting chaotic

Masterlist if yall are interested - you’ll find part 1 there

After an admittedly pleasant couple hours of greatly appreciated morning sex, the two of you are finally up and dressed for the days new adventure into the closest village which is about four miles southeast. Luckily for you, your man has a horse which is very fortunate when trekking through snow.

It only takes an hour or so to finally reach the small village of Thurn that’s located just below huge towering mountains that practically touch the sky. Snow covers the land just as expected though the market place is mussed up with mud and dirt from busy travelers and townsfolk alike.

Considering this place is surrounded by a great thick forest and there’s only one trail leading into it, and it’s not part of the main road, you can’t help but still feel apprehensive about who you may meet even with your Witcher by your side. No one knows who or what you are, and it appears that no one seems to care either, although you do notice how some glare in your direction. It’s not you, calm down, you try and convince yourself.

Geralt reassures you it’s only him that they’re keeping a wary eye on, and by the way he gives you a warm smile you believe him and do your best to forget the strange looks here and there. You’re safe with him, this place is away from the main road and there’s no way a single soldier would be here.

Standing on a building corner while facing the marketplace, you watch as Geralt pays for some dried fish and a fluffy loaf of warm bread. So far your nerves have calmed, though you keep a keen gaze on every opening into the great marketplace in case something or someone was to try and harm him or even you for that matter. You have killed many soldiers after all, not to mention the bear.

Suddenly a hand lays itself onto your shoulder when you’re not paying attention causing you to jump back and just about knock Geralt out with your fist. He barely manages to dodge it when you quickly reel back in shock, not expecting it to be him.

He chuckles lightly, “Just me.”

Rolling your eyes you smile fondly up at him, “Sorry...um, reflexes eh.” You mutter with a breathy laugh.

“Guess you were right about being dangerous after all.” He muses, making light of your slight embarrassment.

Taking the bread from his hand you playfully scoff, “Well then again, maybe not touch a woman before she knows who you are? Next time I might accidentally rip your throat out and you’d never see it coming.” You add while tearing off a piece of bread and popping it into your mouth.

Taking a small chunk himself, Geralt hums, “Wise words, I’ll keep that in mind next time.” Before biting into the bread, as you study his face you can’t help but notice how he appears to be fully enjoying your little makeshift breakfast. 

Suddenly a flash of sunlight rickashays off of something metal catching your sight in the morning light, just about blinding you for a small moment. You blink, eyes darting to a market stall that’s filled with meats. Where two soldiers dressed in black are speaking with the butcher, you freeze, taking Geralt off guard with your new fearful state.

“Y/N what is it?” He whispers as you begin to breath heavily, eyes wide as you watch the Nilfgaardians every move. His grey brows furrow in puzzlement before he turns around to follow your line of sight, only to be met with the backs of two soldiers minding their business.

He can hear how loud your heartbeat has become as it thunders in your chest with rage and building adrenaline, he knows exactly what you want to do next but this is not the place for it. Turing back towards you he sets a cautious hand upon your shoulder, “Not here.” He warns softly.

You keep unflinching, nostrils flared as your fists clench in anger, his hand presses firmer now, “Y/N, not here.” He warns again, with more gumption this time, really meaning it.

Breaking out of your self inflicted trance your eyes shift back up to his golden ones, “It’s too late.” You whisper regretfully, “He’s coming for them.”

“Who is?” Inquires Geralt, unsure of what that could possibly mean.

Letting out a frustrated sigh you look to the slushy hard ground almost in shame, “My companion.......my bear.” You mumble, “I didn’t mean to but he can sense when I need him and now...I can’t...I can’t stop him Geralt.”

The Witcher’s eyes widen in realization, “What will the bear do?”

Bringing your worrisome gaze back up to him you shake your head nervously, “Whatever he wants.”

“Gods, Y/N.”

You cringe, this isn’t going to play out very well for you and Geralt knows it, “I know, fuck I should never have come here! We should have just stayed in bed and starved, let’s just hope he only goes for the soldiers and is satisfied with them.” You exclaim in a hushed tone, pulling Geralt behind a corner and away from any unwanted attention, “No one here will die unless they try and hurt him or me, you understand. We have to lure those fuckers away from the village. Now!”

“Alright then, do you have a plan?” He wonders, not so sure if you’ll be able to get these men away from the village in time.

“Yes.” You sigh begrudgingly, “Though it’s not to late to leave me and ride off into the sunset.”

He gives you a small smile at your attempt to make light of the situation, “I’m not leaving you, though it’s tempting.” He teases before turning serious again.

“My plan is for you to do nothing and I’ll harass those bastards into following me out of here and into the woods before my companion has a chance to find them in town.”

“I’m not just doing nothing.” He protests.

“Yes, yes I know. You’ll be my back up, okay? Now we don’t have time for this just keep close but not too close.” Before he’s able to argue back you’re already gone and halfway across the muddy street with a new fire in your heart that he’s willing to protect with his very life.

Fists clenched in anger you grab a frozen tomato from the stall next to you and without a second thought chuck it right into the back of one of the soldiers helmets with a loud thud. He grunts, whipping around with eyes full of confused aggression, “Now wha?”

Smack! 

Another tomato right into his big ugly face causing him to choke on his words as he stumbles into the guy next to him. Dazed and frustrated he gets to his feet, unsheathing his jagged sword while his friend does the same. “You bitch! I’ll have your head for that you fuckin’ slut!” He cries angrily much to your sick satisfaction.

“Ma’m you have to pay for those.” Mutters the vegetable farmer fearfully, interrupting your sweet moment of anger.

“Shut up.” You snap, turning to glare daggers at the two soldiers. “Call me a slut again and I’ll shove his innards down your throat.”

Glancing at one another they smirk wickedly before charging at you, darting to the right, you sprint for the village entrance and out the giant overhang as they chase you towards the forest where a small group of tired travelers are coming from on a small wagon.

Fuck! Not these people now!

Your feet carry you almost to the safety of the thick evergreens before a thunderous roar is heard huffing and puffing from out of the pines. You fall to the snow just as the great brown bear blunders into the opening, immediately mauling down the closest soldier who gets pummeled into the wet cold earth. He screams in agony as his innards are indeed ripped out, though his cries are muffled when the bear clamps down onto his face, ending anymore unpleasant sounds coming from him.

The family next to you freezes in terror, their horse kicking and rearing at the wagon desperately trying to vacate the situation as her owner tugs on her reigns for dear life. The bear growls at the horse from across the clearing, face dripping crimson as the other soldier slashes the beast across the face with all that he can, still it does little but make a small scar of red on its furry cheek.

You gasp in pain at a stinging sensation on your cheek, however your mind doesn’t have time to weigh on it as the bear tears the man’s throat out with teeth the size of butter knives, claws digging into the soldier’s black armor as he feasts. Soon your companions furry head raises to meet eye to eye with Geralt who’s found his way onto the messy scene.

Your heart beats rapidly as you shake with adrenaline as your Witcher’s golden eyes dance from the large beast in front of him to you who’s behind both of them. Suddenly the bear takes a step forward causing Geralt to step backwards cautiously. Shit!

You move quickly to the creatures side, “Don’t.” You warn firmly, “He’s mine.” The enchanting ember eyes of the familiar meets your stern gaze as he snorts, giving a distinctive nod in understanding just as an arrow thrusts itself into the beasts shoulder.

“No!” You scream in unison with the bears roar of pain as a sharp stinging races it’s way up your arm when he knocks you to the ground, now standing protectively in front of you like a shield of steel. Geralt quickly turns around to find half a dozen more Nilfgaardian soldiers racing out from the village, one drawing another arrow as they ready a charge.

From behind the bears legs you can see what terror awaits, “Geralt!” You cry desperately as his eyes find yours, “Don’t let them hurt him!”

Heeding to your command, your brave Witcher jumps into action, taking out two soldiers before launching himself at the bowman who’s ready to fire. Your companion moves just as a last arrow plunges into the snowy blood spattered earth right in front of your face. You gasp in shock, staggering to your feet as the men that Geralt couldn’t stop attempt to take down your bear with their swords and shields.

Failing miserably they fall to the beasts paw one by one as you watch in relief, then to your great annoyance and admittedly slight fear does a lone man charge for you. One who’s been able to slip past the defenses, you reach down and take a fistful of snow before throwing it into his face, taking him off guard as you race for the wagon.

“Hand me a weapon!” You shout, “Quickly now if you want your children to live!” The terrified father keeps stiff and silent as his wife throws you a shovel of all things. Turning around you clash wood with steel, the soldier grunts as you kick his feet from out under him. Falling to the earth you quickly swing the rusted shovel around before harshly cutting right through his exposed neck in one clean motion.

His eyes gloss over as you pull the makeshift weapon from his bleeding neck, grimacing in disgust as you drop the shovel to the ground. Not feeling keen on witnessing the reactions of the family from behind you, instead your head stays forward as you walk away towards Geralt.

“Y/N! Are you hurt.” Rushes Geralt worriedly as he jogs over to your disheveled side, eyes all over you in case you really are wounded.

You nod, waving him off, “I’m fine, fine...I promise.”

He smiles, grateful to know you’re alright and uninjured, “Good. We need to leave.”

“I know, come on let’s find your hors..arh ahh fuck...” You scream in pain falling to your knees in the wet snow, Geralt catches you as your eyes darken in anger, two black pupils glaring furiously away from him. “No!” You shout, “Don’t hurt him!”

Turning his head to follow your pained gaze, he’s surprised to find some idiotic villagers as they throw rocks and other shitty weaponry at the roaring beast, “Stop it he’ll kill you!” You shout even louder now as he holds you back. Your familiar grunts and growls in protest as the men push him back farther into the woods, though they don’t stop, idiotically they follow. 

“Let me go!” You snap at Geralt angrily as he holds you tight, “Geralt!”

“Y/N he’s a bear what are we supposed to do now, he cut through those trained soldiers like they were nothing, I’m not having you get anymore roughed up then you already are.” Pleads Geralt. No you idiot they cannot kill him!

Eyes darkening in rage you break from his tight grasp and shove him to the ground before grabbing his fallen sword and racing towards the stupid villagers who are disappearing into the forest, the roars of your companion sounding painfully throughout the woods.

“Y/N!” He shouts after you, still you ignore him, to focused on tearing into the woods with determination clear in your heart. Soon enough you find the men in a snowy meadow among the great timber, makeshift weapons pointing dangerously at the bear who’s now standing his ground. 

“Get back!” You shout as they shove their sticks into the bears face that’s not even ten feet from them. “Don’t!”

The bear growls a fearsome roar of protest and pain as it backs up closer to the tree line while the villagers press closer and closer with their steel and wood, shouting insults as they go.

“Stop it he could rip your throats out you fools! Stop-ah..ouch fuck.” You seethe through clenched teeth as one of them knocks you to the ground with his garden hoe. He chuckles maliciously, eyeing you grossly as he holds up the tool readying for another hit.

“This your beasty, huh?” Taunts the dirty man with a smug grin just as your fearsome bear races to your aid with a new found purpose. He throws men that stand in his way before slashing open the mans stomach, entrails slipping out right before your vary eyes.

“Fuck.” You mutter before all hell breaks loose, more of the village men try and take down the bear but it’s no use, he slashes and tears at them, causing most to flee in terror back through the woods and eventually into the village.

“Stop! You’ve done enough for me! It’s time to go now, leave!” Is lost on the wind as the beast mauls down another man. Soon warm arms pull you from the ground and into a strong chest as your Witcher pleads for you to fall back. “Geralt no! I have to make him leave this place, he’ll kill all who try and harm him!”

“Y/N your bear is murdering innocents, this has to end now!” He exclaims while holding you close though he’s just making you more frustrated. No one is innocent.

“What are you implying?” You snap at him, dreading what he’s about to say next as you hold his arms against your chest.

“Y/N.” He whispers almost regretfully, face pressed against your cheek, “We have to kill him, it’s the only way to stop this slaughter from continuing.”

Elbowing him in the stomach you shove him from your side, face a mask of anguish and fear, “I can’t Geralt!” You exclaim loudly, “Fuck, there are just some things you don’t know about me yet! Dammit this is all wrong!”

He gives you a deep frown as he studies your face, confusion clear on his handsome features, “Y/N we have no choice.”

“There is always a choice!” Your voice is strong as you shout at him, he huffs in frustration at your outburst, clearly he doesn’t know why the bear cannot die. Y/N just tell him, he trusts you. Eyes softening you swallow thickly while touching your sore shoulder, “You don’t understand.”

Staring at you desperately, his face and hair undoubtedly a mess of dirt and blood, he looks to you now with deep confusion, “What do you mean?”

Breathing a heavy sigh you look down at the palm of your hand that’s still covered in bandages, “You can’t kill it, that creature is bound to me by an unbreakable link..”

“What?” He wonders, grey brows furrowing in puzzlement at your strange half explanation, “What does that mean Y/N?”

Your gaze falls to the snow covered earth then over to the beast that’s now decided to head for the woods, leaving a trail of bloody paw prints in the snow, no men left alive in it’s wake.

You frown deeply, your features conflicted and almost lost as you find his lingering gaze once more, “It’s complicated.” You begrudgingly mutter, Y/N he trusts you. “Let’s get out of here and I’ll explain everything.”

“Fine, come on.” Urges Geralt as the two of you make haste for the woods where Roach is waiting patiently.

The ride back is deathly silent, a new tension filling the small atmosphere around the two of you as you sit quietly in front of him. He doesn’t further press you for anything until he’s made it back to the secluded old cabin where he clicks his tongue to stop Roach. Boots hit the snow as Geralt looks up to you now, you nod lowly and let him help you down though you don’t truly need it, he ties off Roach before following you into the warmth of the small house.

As soon as you stand in front of the dying fire do your eyes fill with unshed tears while you bite your lip anxiously. Geralt’s gentle gaze falls onto your form as he steps closely in front of you, reaching his hands up to carefully clasp his hands with yours, “Tell me why this bear is so special to you, please Y/N?” He quietly asks.

Blinking the tears away you rest a hand onto your wounded shoulder that’s left a red mark through your shirt, though still letting him hold the other one. “That beast is my twin brother Geralt.” His brows raise in surprise still he keeps silent as you continue, “I don’t understand it myself, and neither does he. But ever since we came into this world something has linked our very souls and vessels together so that if one of us is hurt, the other feels it too.”

Blinking hard, the Witcher’s brows furrow even deeper now, “That’s your brother.” He repeats, trying to wrap his head around the whole thing as he starts to connect the dots, “Is this why your hand is hurt and your shoulder is wounded?”

You sigh, tilting your head up to fully look at him, “Yes. When you cut his paw it cut me too, then earlier when that damn archer shot him in the shoulder I felt everything.”

“I could tell you looked in pain, and your cheek.” He brings a hand up to gently caress your cheek, “A fresh scar. I did wonder how that happened.”

“It’s a quick pain, still hurts of course. But it’s something I have always lived with, and it’s something mages would be very inclined to study so you mustn’t tell a soul.” You affirmed through pleading eyes as you suddenly pull apart from his grasp when a jolting pain hits you on the temple unexpectedly. “Fuck, what the hell?”

Geralt’s at your side in an instant, “Y/N you’re bleeding.” Worries your Witcher as he grabs a spare cloth and applies it to your head. “Will you be okay?”

“Yes, it’s a simple cut. My brothers thick skull is to thank for that. Dammit if I could only find him.”

“Couldn’t you through some twin bond like you said, maybe that would work?” He suggests.

“Ah shit, fuck...okay yes there is another way...but please don’t look at me differently when I tell you. This is the last secret I promise.”

“Nothing is stranger then this twin link, tell me Y/N I trust you.”

Giving him a kind apprehensive smile do you nod, “My brother isn’t the only one who can change form, I can too. Difference is....I’m a wolf.”

Your heart beats with fear as Geralt begins to chuckle much to your confusion, “A wolf huh? Of course you’re a wolf, I’ve heard this could be destiny of some kind. Do you believe in that horseshit?”

You let out a humorous breath, “Well, I’m a skin-changer and if my twin gets hurt so do I. So...uh....I’m not exactly one to not question what weird shit destiny has in store for me, I mean look, I’m with a Witcher and he hasn’t killed me yet.”

Geralt’s hums, golden eyes shinning bright down at you, “And I don’t ever plan on it.” Oh, Geralt.

He smiles fondly at you though you begin to frown, “Well that’s just it huh, my brother has taken bear form for a while now, he won’t want to come back. And those villagers saw me with him, they’ll know...they’ll hunt for us. Geralt I can’t have him hurt anyone else...but what can I do? There’s only one way to truly reason with him....but I’m afraid.”

“Why? What would happen?” Worries your Witcher.

Your eyes briefly drop to the floor before they shift back up to Geralt, “I must take my beast form to speak with him, he understands me as I am now...it’s just, well I can’t really understand him as a bear.”

“Then we’ll find him.” Mutters Geralt reassuringly, causing a tiny smile to appear on your face, “Together.”

#the witcher x reader #the witcher x you #the witcher x y/n #geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x you #Geralt #geralt x reader #geralt x you #the witcher

[catxsnow]

BELIEVE IN YOU G.L.

Request: Could u do a gar imagine where gar loses control and kills someone and the reader is the only one to come to his defence when the rest of the titans start acting differently around him. I feel like gar needs a hype man bc he's constantly second guessing himself.

Warning: mentions of blood, death, fluff, gar being a lil cutie as he does

A/N: I don’t really have anything to say so I guess I hope you guys had a good day/will have a good day. 

Word count: 3.2k

If there was one person in this world that you would trust with you life, it was Gar Logan. Gar was the kindest, sweetest person you had ever met in you life. He never failed to make you smile and he continuously showed just how resourceful he could be. There was never a time that he would give up, especially when it came to protecting his friends.

Gar never failed to to make sure that his friends knew that he was there for them. Whether it was out on a mission, or within the tower, he was there. When Rachel needed comfort, he was there. When Jason needed someone to talk to, he was there. When you needed a shoulder to cry on, he was there.

So when Gar lost control protecting you and his teammates, things changed. All Gar ever wanted to do was keep the people he cared about safe. He was still under the affects of what Cadmus had done to him, and keeping his tiger under control was far harder than it ever had been. He never wanted to hurt people, and yet he had no choice.

The mission Dick had you guys on was supposed to be an easy one. Something that just you and Gar could handle. Things had gone bad, fast. There were far more men there than expected and the two of you couldn't handle all of them on you own. A bullet passed through your suit and into your side. It was just a graze, but it was enough to slow you down.

Gar had no choice but to shift into the tiger if either of you wanted to make it out alive. While he had, he also didn't realize the lack of control that he had as well. When he saw one of the men try to grab you and shove you into their car, he had completely lost all sense of what was right and wrong.

The man that held you was mauled beyond repair. Those who hadn't already been taken down, were long gone. Gar, as the tiger, stood over the man. He hadn't looked at you, but the second his green fur was covered in blood, you weren't sure if you wanted him to notice you.

Finally, he shifted back into himself, realizing what he had done. Blood dripped down his chin, covering his neck and chest. His hands too were dripping with another man's blood. Gar finally looked over at you, petrified that all he would see in your eye is fear. You knew him well enough that this wasn't his fault.

The wound you had caused far too much blood loss and you were starting to sway on your feet. He needed to get you back to the tower, but he also feared of what the others would think.

He was right to worry too.

When you had arrived back at the tower, Dick and the others surrounded you with worry. They tended to your wound immediately, but as soon as you were patched up, all attention was on him. Gar had to explain that he had killed a man saving you.

Surprisingly, it was Dick that had taken it the worse. He had killed many people in his days as Robin, he had no right to yell at Gar for doing so. Not when he barely had control, Cadmus had done this to him, it wasn't like he wanted to do it. Yet, he was still yelled at for killing an innocent man. Even if he wasn't innocent at all.

When Dick stormed off in anger, Gar was the one that reminded by your side. You were passed out from being so weak, but Gar was just happy to see you alive. He grasped your hand in his and pressed them against his forehead.

Tears of shame and anger shed. He hated that Dick was mad at him for something he couldn't control. It wasn't like he had intentions on killing that man, it was the last thing that he wanted to do. He was already haunted by the others, he didn't need another on his list. Gar was furious at himself for losing control again.

But when he saw you getting taken, he couldn't stop himself. You were the person that was always on his side, he couldn't lose you. The tears got worse and worse until suddenly he was sobbing with dread. He had killed someone, that wasn't something that he could just take back.

The blood on his skin was dried up and he was acutely aware of just how disgusting he felt. Gar ripped his hand away from yours and bolted out of the room. He needed to shower, he needed to get rid of every trace that he had ever lost control.

It felt like hours that he was under the water, scrubbing away every drop of blood until his skin was raw. What would you think of him when you awoke? That was his biggest concern. Dick had already made his argument, and by the looks of it, Kori and Rachel were on his side. Jason would be too if he was still around.

Reluctantly, Gar turned the shower off and stepped out. A towel was wrapped around his waist as he sprawled out on his bed. The door to his room was open just ajar, but he couldn't get the motivation to get up and close it. That night wasn't suppose to have this turnout at all.

The creak of his door opening wider caused him to force his eyes shut, he didn't want to hear another lecture from Dick. "I heard you the first time, Dick."

"Didn't hear it from me." Gar's eyes popped open and he jumped up in his bed. You were standing in his door way, leaning against the frame. You skin looked pale from the blood loss and he could see your hands shaking.

"You shouldn't be out of bed," Gar scolded. He joined you at your side a swung your arm over his shoulder as he walked you his bed to sit. You winced as you sat, which didn't go unnoticed by him. It should have been him that got that bullet, not you. Things would have turned out completely different.

"Had to see if you were okay," You shrugged. Gar sat beside you. He didn't notice that his hands were also shaking until he saw them next to yours. You reached out to grab it, stopping the both of you. "Whatever Dick told you, he's a hypocrite for saying it. He's hurt a lot more people than you ever have, and ever will."

"He's not wrong though," Gar sighed. "I lost control. What if I had gone after you next? What if there were more people there? Innocent people?"

"Sleep, Gar," you finally spoke after a long pause of silence. You couldn't deny that for a split second, you worried that you were next. Gar would never hurt you, but the people at Cadmus? That was a different story. Your hesitance spoke loud and clear to him: you feared him.

You stood up from the edge of the bed, pausing at his side to kiss the top of his head. Gar leaned into your touch, soaking up every ounce that he surely wouldn't get again. How many more of these accidents would it take for him to be kicked off the team? How many more until no one trusted him again?

As badly as he wanted to avoid sleep and the nightmares that would follow, he couldn't stop the black void from taking over.

><

Gar noticed the difference with everyone in the tower by the next morning. Dick refused to acknowledge that he was even in the same room. Rachel avoided his gaze, she never thought he would be able to pull what he had. Even Kori had trouble sparking a conversation with him. You were the only one to send smiles his way.

The entire day, he moped around the tower, sticking to his room as much as possible. This treatment that everyone was giving him couldn't last wrong, right? He knew that he had made a mistake and he was doing his best to correct it. But how do you fix something that can't come back?

That night at dinner, you had missed the presence of Gar at the table. It had been quiet since Jason left, you didn't think it could get any worse - but without Gar, it had.

You found yourself tossing and turning for hours in bed that night. Your wound still flared up in pain at every movement and would for a while. There was no way that you were going to be able to sleep, and you were sure the boy in the next room couldn't either. That was how you found yourself knocking at his door at three in the morning.

You stood there for several moments, wondering if he was sleeping or even if you had awoken him. Just as you were about to leave, the door creaked open and the small amount of light coming from the hall lit Gar up. He was in his boxers, but eyes wide awake.

"Figured you couldn't sleep either," you told him of your prediction. Gar opened his door wider for you to step in.

"Why'd you come here?" Gar asked. He sat down on the edge of his bed. His sheets were all messed up and you knew that he had the same problem of not being able to stay still. You hadn’t talked to him much that day which led him to believe that you had the same judgement of him as your teammates. 

"Because last time I couldn't sleep you came to my room and slept next to me so I could," you reminded him. It had only been a few months ago, but it felt like years. Nightmares plagued your for weeks on end before Gar finally offered you some sort of solution. You never expected it to work, but you had slept like a baby that night.

Gar huffed out a breath of air as a half smile graced his face. It was the first sign of any happiness you had seen from him all day. Gar remembered that night vividly. He could remember your scream of horror as you woke up from you nightmare and running into your room to see if you were okay. It was a simple gesture of seeing if you wanted him to stay, but you had never been more grateful.

"Did you come here for me, or for you?" Gar asked, finally meeting your eye since you came in.

"Mutual benefit," you shrugged. "It's just an offer, I can leave if you want to be alone." Gar's heart rate rose at your counter-offer. He didn't want you to leave, not when you were the only person that seemed to still trust him.

"Stay," Gar decided. You nodded, crawling into his bed as he turned off the light by his bed. Small cracks of light from the city penetrated his blinds just enough so that you could see the outlines of his face. The two of you laid side by side and quietness over took once more. "Thank you."

"You mean more to me than you know, Gar."

><

You woke up to an empty bed and a sore side in the morning. Gar was gone and if it wasn't for you being in his room, there would have been no sign that you had even slept in the same bed.

The bandage that covered your side was shaded red and you knew that you must have popped a stitch sometime in the night. Whether it was before or after you got to Gar's room, it needed to be fixed. So, you left the warmth of Gar's bed as his scent lingered on your skin. You had no idea where he could have gone to, but you had a more pressing matter at the moment.

The door to the med bay was propped open as you stripped your side of the bandage. Blood covered your stitches and it was evident as to wear you had tore them. After washing it down, you braced yourself for the pain that would come with doing a quick stitch on yourself.

It didn't take long to fix what you had torn, but it wasn't a pleasant experience. Your eyes burned with tears as you held them back. As soon as you were done, you put a new bandage on and covered it back up with your shirt. No one needed to know that you had torn them, there was no need to cause worry.

"Where were you last night?"

"Fuck! Rachel! Don't do that," You scolded, hand over your heart to get it to stop racing from the surprise. She was sitting at the kitchen table with her feet propped up and a bowl of cereal in her hand. A coy smile was on her face, curious as to what you had been up to. "I was here."

"Your door was open all night and you weren't in your room," She continued on with a mouth full of food. "Did you just come from the med bay?"

"Yes," you rolled your eyes at her curiosity. "I had a few stitches rip, not a big deal." Maybe if you ignored her first question, she wouldn't push on with it. Thankfully, that was the case. Rachel didn't try to stop you again as you headed back to your room.

Although sleeping next to Gar once again had helped you sleep, exhaustion still wore you out. You worried about his connection with the others. Dick wasn't pleased about Gar's actions and you weren't sure if he would ever change his mind about it. Truth be told, you thought that he was just a little scared of Gar.

As kind-hearted as he was, he was powerful. Losing control like that, but against everyone would be devastating. Although you understood Dick's concern, he wasn't taking it well. 

You knew it too when you heard him and Kori talking about Gar.

Finally, when Dick's harsh words got to be too much, you had swung your door open with anger written on your face. He had no right to be saying that Gar was a lose screw to the team or that he was unsure if he belonged there anymore. Not after everything that he had done - what Kori had done too.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Your chest huffed up and down with frustration. "You're the team leader, Dick. You shouldn't be shunning Gar for his mistakes you should be helping him through them! Don't you think that he fucking regrets what he did? He didn't have control! You know what Cadmus did to him and you're not even considering the lasting effects!

"And you have no right to judge for accidentally killing someone when you've killed so many on purpose. If you wanna keep up at this self-proclaimed leader bullshit, then you better step up to the fucking plate because right now you're being an inconsiderate asshole.

"I would have died if Gar hadn't done anything. If you wanna kick him off this little merry band of heroes you have going on, then count me out too."

"(Y/N)!" Dick called after you as you walked away from all of them. You didn't turn back, but simply raised your middle finger at him. You might have been harsh to Dick about the truth of his actions, but he needed to hear it. Nothing frustrated you more than Dick not realizing how much of a hypocrite he was being.

The door to your room slammed with so much force that it rattled the walls. Dick clearly wasn't expecting an outburst from you - if anything he thought you would have been on his side. You were the one there, you saw just how vicious he could be when he didn't have control. Out of everyone there, you were the only to stay by his side.

Someone knocked at your door as you angrily paced around. "If you're here to talk, Dick, I don't want to hear it," You yelled. The door cracked open and you nearly slammed it back close until you saw the tuft of green hair peak through. "Gar," your voice softened. He slipped into your room and closed the door behind him.

Without having time to say anything, Gar had thrown himself into your arms with his head tucked into the crook of your neck. You didn't hesitate to hug him back. "Where were you this morning?" You quietly asked. He had heard everything you had said for him, but you didn't wish to talk about that at the moment.

"Woke up early, decided to go clear my head," Gar mumbled into your skin. Though he had slept better with you by his side, it still wasn't enough. But hearing you argue against Dick for him? That meant more to him than you could ever imagine. He never would be able to stand up for himself like that, and you had done it without thinking twice.

Gar woke up that morning with you in his arms. That hadn't happened the last time that you had slept with him, but it was a comforting change. The smile on your face as you slept warmed his heart like never before - you had never looked so peaceful before.

Reluctantly, he pulled away from you. You could see the exhaustion written on his face from his previous nights. Gar didn't deserve this, he was the last person in this tower to deserve something like this to happen. Your hand reached up to his cheek, thumb swiping away the tears that he didn't seem to notice.

"Thank you," Gar trembled. His eyes were red and his whole body seemed to shake with anxiety. "For having my back, I know it's not easy standing up to the people you care about."

"I care about you, Gar. It's easy to stand up for the people that you care about, no matter who it's against," You assured him. "This wasn't your fault, no matter what Dick says. I know you, I know in your heart that you would never mean to do something like that. I believe in you, more than you know."

"You mean more to me than you'll ever know," Gar repeated your words from the other night. It was the truth, you meant everything to him. He wished that he could express how much he truly cared for you - just as you wanted for him.

"Stay with me tonight?" You asked. Truth be told you didn't want to let Gar out of your sight. You didn't want Dick to try and lecture him again, and you certainly didn't want anyone to spoil this better mood you got him in. “Mutual benefit and all, right?” 

"I wouldn’t have it any other way."

#gar logan #garfield logan #gar logan imagine #gar logan one shot #gar logan x reader #beast boy #dc titans #titans imagine #titans one shot #dc one shot #dc imagine #dc #fluff

[subbing-for-clones]

The New Apprentice Part 8

Maul x Sith!reader 

Word Count: 2k

A/N: Yall it has been a God damn week I'll tell you that. So sorry it has taken me so long to get this out. Fair warning, had to do some already known stuffs to move the story along the timeline and I just wasn't feeling it while writing, but it's important to the timeliness nonetheless.

WARNINGS: 18+ P in V sex, unprotected sex, Canon violence. Kinda angsty at the end? Idk.

PREVIOUS         NEXT          MASTERLIST

       The following morning you awoke alone in your tent. The cool morning air aiding to shake the fog from your mind as you thought of the previous night. A smile twitched on your lips that was soon replaced with a heavy eye roll. One of your pant legs had been torn up the seam by the medic who worked on you. Shrugging, you ripped off the tattered fabric and did the same to the other to match. Sliding on your now short one piece you pulled on your boots, hung your sabers from your hips and left your little shelter.

    You knew why Maul left; he didn't want anyone to think the two of you were involved until the situation was less vulnerable. You were thankful he waited until you were asleep before he absconded into the darkness. Maker, you had to stop thinking about it lest you rile yourself up again. It was time to go to work, continue to prove to your master that you deserved to be at his side. That he needed you there.

    You were relieved that Savage followed behind you a few minutes later. At least you weren't the last one up. Pre and Maul strode through the camp with you and Savage following closely behind.

"We will need an army if we are to successfully take back Mandalore." Your master rumbled.

"The people will support us once we remind them who they are." Pre retorted.

"Perhaps... but the Black Suns will be able to provide us with resources beneath the attention of the Republic."

"They're a crime syndicate!"

"Yes, and a powerful one that will lead to our victory. We have but one chance to pull this off."

      Boarding a Mandalorian starship with your Master and Savage was quiet. You had decided to keep your mouth shut and revel in Maul's ability to command and scheme. You stood at Savage's side with your hands clasped behind your back, back straight and chin high. Your weapons dangled dangerously at your hips. Every so often a Mandalorian would look at you curiously through their visor to which you responded the same every time. You gazed into their black where their unseen eyes lay behind, unblinking with a straight lip and an air of importance until they turned away. Savage quirked a lip slightly every time.

When you were alone he rumbled quietly.

"You make them uneasy. Much more than I do I think."

"I hardly doubt that my friend." Your voice soft and cold in the off chance someone could hear you.

"Possibly... they fear us."

"Good. Then they will stay in line under Lord Maul. A warrior should never show fear. They may be strong but they've shown a vital weakness we will exploit in time if necessary."

    Maul was the only one within ear shot and he silently listened to your words. Although he didn't show it at the time externally, his chest swelled in pride.

    After landing on Mustafar they were greeted with a battalion led by a tall Falleen male by the name of Vigo Ziton Maj. He chuckled when your master harshly requested an audience but he led Maul, Savage, Pre Vizsla and yourself inside the fortress anyway.

    Five more men sat at a long black table upon your entrance. When demanded that they join you, you were met with exclamations of amusement and they attempted to call for your deaths.

    Without hesitation you and Savage each tossed a spinning lightsaber in their direction. Effectively beheading each and every one of the leaders in single mirrored motions. After seeing first handedly that denial of an alliance would lead to death, Moj, the next in line to lead agreed to join your cause without hesitation.

    The Pykes practically handed themselves over to you once news about the Black Suns had reached their ears. The offer of their alliance was a grateful surprise to you. Recognizing the slow shift in universal power only spurred your attraction to your master. Visions of you riding his throbbing cock permeated your mind and drifted to his.

    On the ride to Nal Hutta these thoughts only grew in intensity as your sinful need grew. It had been days since he had last touched you and although you maintained an outward composure, your mind reeled. With only a few hours until your arrival, Maul strode past you, pausing momentarily to give you a knowing glance and ever so slight nod of his head. You waited a minute before following his force signature until a supply closet door hissed open. He grabbed you almost violently, pulling you within the small enclosure. He listened to be sure you weren't followed before he turned to you.

"My my what devious thoughts you project little one." He cooed as he pulled you into his embrace. With your back to his chest, he lowered his face into the crook of your neck, planting gentle wet kisses to your sensitive skin and lightly nipping at your ear. You took his hand and covered your mouth to stifle a whimper as he ground his hardening cock into your rear. You could feel the heat of your core as his velvety voice hummed in the ear he was toying with.

"Now, I'd much rather take my time with you but it seems you need some tension released. I'll need you clear headed on this venture. I believe the Hutt Clan will give us the most trouble in forming an alliance. Would you like my help my sweet little apprentice?"

    You nodded fervently, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as he slid your one piece down until it pooled on the floor. He bent you over infinitesimally, just enough to grant him entrance. He prodded his hot, firm erection against your folds letting out a silent groan feeling how wet you already were.

"God's I've hardly touched you and your soaking wet you naughty little girl."

    Without warning he slipping inside you, biting one of his fingers to keep from crying out. He thrusted into at a brutal pace, sinking to his hilt with every rut. It didn't take long before you were fluttering around him and tears streamed down your cheeks.

"Maker, you're going to cum for me.. I can feel it... Let go my dear. Cum all over my cock."

    The command he soothed had you unraveling faster than you thought possible. The excitement of the risk at being found out only encouraged your orgasm. Still shaking from the aftershocks, your master bit your shoulder as he throbbed and filled you.

    You hastily cleaned yourself, getting ready to leave before you were caught but Maul grabbed your wrist and brought you back into an embrace. Gently pressing his forehead to yours and wrapping his arms around you.

"Soon you'll be at my side at all times my dear. Would you like that?" His glowing amber eyes meeting yours.

"Yes Master, of course."

    You pressed your lips to his and trying to calm your flush you left the small enclosure with newfound resolve undoubtedly spurred by your bliss.

       Maul had been correct as usual. The Hutts were in fact quite resistant. After hearing that they wouldn't be paid and that the deal was an alliance for their lives, five bounty hunters and the whole guard rushed the room. Desperate for some leverage you deflected the barrage of incoming blaster fire along with your master while leading them slowly out to the landing platform.

Finally, she's good for something you thought as Bo Katan fired rockets into the fortress, effectively killing most of the guard.

    You gave chase back into the fortress and fought the remaining bounty hunters. Unwillingly admitting that they were giving you more trouble than you would've hoped. Darting away from a purple woman with orange hair you kicked a dog off of your master while the bounty hunters made their retreat. Maul was convinced that they wouldn't be a further threat so you let them escape with their lives and empty pockets.

    You ended up having to travel to the gods awful desert planet of Tatooine for Jabba to finally agree to your terms.

       Back on Zanbar you and Savage shared a meal while Maul oversaw the organization of the troops and mixed crime syndicates.

"You seem restless." Savage noted.

"Duuuh." You exasperated. "All this planning and waiting and organizing. Ugh, I wanna go fuck shit up. We've been so busy with the boring shit I haven't even had time to train. Aside from that bounty hunter scuffle."

"Worry not little one, you'll be terrorizing the Mandalorians planet side with everyone soon enough." You scoffed at his response to which he cocked his brow.

"No, I'm not. Master wants me in the shadows. Something about the people recognizing me later on being a problem with his grand scheme."

"He has a habit of only telling half of a truth. Trust comes slowly to him. You know this." You sighed, pushing away your plate and pinching the bridge of your nose.

"Yes, I'm well aware. More so than he would like I'm sure."

"He cares very deeply for you."

"And I him but all this sitting around will get me nowhere. I told you about what happened on Malachor... for the first time since I've joined you two it feels like my feet are taking me some where I'm not supposed to go... it's been weeks and the only thing I've learned in that time frame is how to take his cock in secret, away from prying eyes."

    Savage nearly choked and also disregarded his food and sat looking at you with a pained look in his eyes.

"What will you do then?"

"Honestly? I haven't the faintest idea. All I know is that I'm supposed to 'extinguish the fear but always remember that 'the shadow cannot exist without the light' whatever the fuck that's supposed to mean."

"If you don't know what it means how do you know you're on the wrong path?" You paused at his question.

"Jedi and Sith both always say to trust in the force... I need to meditate on this."

    Savage nodded as you stood from your seat walking back towards your tent. Your master was a strong force user and ever since that night you two had opened up your minds to one another, truly lay bare before the other, it was damn near impossible to keep him out. When you passed him and Vizsla you had known they couldn't hear your conversation but the way that his eyes followed you. A specific crease in his brow. You had no doubt it had anything to do with Vizsla's ramblings, you realized he probably felt your conflict.

    Disappearing into your canvas enclosure you tried to push the thought of your lover, no, your master; down and away from the forefront of your mind. Gods above though, he was your lover. You loved him, so much. What if he was guiding you away from the place you needed to go? Everything felt right before you allied with the Death Watch. The weeks you spent training and traveling to Malachor felt right. But this, this felt like it was his path not yours. If your destinies didn’t cross would he abandon his to join you? Could you abandon yours to join him? You knelt in the center of your tent and straightened your back, closing your eyes. Allowing your mind to rest, allow the wild eradications to still and drift away. This was important. This was your destiny. You suddenly realized why, although you'd never admit it, the Jedi forbid attachments in their freakish cult.

#maul x reader #maul smut #darth maul #sith apprentice #savage opress #platonic savage #maul fluff #sith warrior #starwars au #star wars au #star wars #swtcw x reader #swtcw smut

[justalittletomato]

Hungry ( angsty dad!maul drabble)

TW: child malnourishment, food mention

Summary: Maul is adamant that the baby’s schedule is followed, things don't always pan out but this instance brings Maul to recall a feeling that wouldn’t go away. 

@brilliantbutbatty @mother-0f-monsters  @tupdidtherightthing  @zabrak-show

@savagesbonergarage @apocalypticwafflekitten @and-claudia @danger-xylophones @theknightsofwren @imgonnabuildatardis @literatureandqueen   @justanotherpadawan @hannagoldworthy 

His little one is still too small to hold the bottle. Small and reliant on his family, a task Maul, his  Starlight and Savage take turns to do. One thing is certain it has to be done on schedule. Maul is adamant that it is done accordingly to the schedule.

The baby will excitedly kick his legs and eagerly latch on to the bottle. Soon it's only the sound of the little one drinking away and being held close till he’s done. It's a reassuring sound and helped by the fact that baby was growing.

Savage jokes that the baby was even squishier, his little arms resembling a row of bread rolls. His Starlight had giggled only a little, and kissed the baby’s face, “ He’s supposed to be soft, he’s a baby.”

 Maul did not share in the laughter, he stared at his child. round and rosy and currently giggling as Savage tickled his belly.

“That means he’s healthy right?” its spoken low enough that neither of them hear, to quiet that they can’t hear how relieved he is to see it.

His baby had red cheeks that were often poked just to see how soft they really were, a chubby little chin and now a little heavier than before. All good signs. Maul nuzzled him, soft and squishy like he was supposed to be.

However not everything can be as one plans, and eventually a feeding is late. In the little crib the little one woke, alone and with the first feeling of hunger. The little one whined.

He was not accustomed to waiting, usually someone is ready with a bottle in hand and picking him out of his crib.  His tummy grumbled.

Oh he did not like the feeling or the sound!  

It startled him and like any baby would he cried.

It was at first a tiny cry, usually that was enough to bring someone in. The battery in the comm has died. No answer, so the cry grew louder as did the little growls in his belly.

Maul had lost track of time…against all odds he had.

 It was an hour past. The bond now pushing at full force, crying, his baby crying as his tummy grumbled.

The baby!

Savage and his Starlight had meetings of their own they would not be there…and it was Maul’s turn. He was the one  who chided them if they were late. Maul didn’t bother excusing himself from the meeting and rushed to the nursery he had something more important to attend to.

The little cries echoed into the hallway, of course no one was there, as he walked closer the cries intensified. His baby crying and hungry.

The little face scrunched up and tears in his eyes, Maul heard the grumbles. “ I am so sorry, my Star. Oh don’t cry.” he lifts his son into his arms, “ I’m here. I’m here, just give me a moment.”

He holds his baby close and the cries lessen but the rumbles from his baby’s belly continue.  

He’s been waiting..waiting and his little tummy empty. Maul rushes a bit, his baby was hungry, hungry because Maul did not come on time.

The bottles and formula were on the shelves,  a bit high up so one would have to reach. Why he made the choice? He did not know but he knew it was all there. He had the bottle in hand and places it down on the table. His little one eagerly coos. “ Just another moment little one. “

He just needed the formula. He reaches up again for the container.

Empty.

He sighs, he had told savage to get rid of the empty canisters. no matter, he will just get another. he feels around the shelf.

There is no canister. He moves his hand to one side. Nothing there. the other side. no.

That’s impossible.

He has always made sure to have more and extra. Always.  Maul holds tighter to his little one as his hands moves back and forth, there just to be one!

The cries return, and his belly again rumbles. A hungry little cry, the baby is hungry and there is no canister.

Maul opens the lower shelf, nothing but the baby’s clothes. He finds himself tossing them aside, there has to be one!

 His mind drifts to opening the tiny slot in his room to peek out for the tray that sometimes came.  No nothing today.

He opens another shelf more clothes and napkins. Again the items are tossed aside, Where is it?!

Again he opens the slot, there’s something outside but the droid had neglected to bring it in. His stomach growls. By the time the droid finishes the lesson something had taken his food.

The gnawing feeling builds.

No canister in the top shelf, none in the bottom. The drawers are half out and the clothes strewn over the floor . There’s not a drop of it.

The food is always here! where was it? Where was his baby’s food?!  

The crying continued and Maul is reminded that his little one is hungry, hungry and with no food to give him.  The slight concern surges to panic.

Maul recalls that Savage had shoved a ration bar into  his hand after Maul had neglected to eat this morning. He still had that! 

Its squished but it’s still food! Food for the baby…food he is too little to eat..maybe he could make sure its soft enough maybe he can get water and…no he can’t, the baby can’t eat it…

His mind is reeling. Years without enough of anything, the days with nothing. His ribs had stuck out and it took him longer to heal without anything in his belly to help. The gnawing feeling ever present in his gut more so as a child. As he grew he ignored the aches and rationed what he was given. He could make it last.

He was often hungry but was careful, he trained himself to be, not to show it, but the effects are present. He should have been taller and maybe a bit fuller, but he was not. Smaller than his opponents but feeding himself on hate, it helped.  On Lotho Minor it was always on his mind and like before there was never enough or never anything. Again his ribs showed and his face had become gaunt living on whatever scraps or rats had come around.

“ Maul?” his Starlights calls stepping into the room,” I heard crying..”

They see Maul standing with all the babies clothes tossed onto the floor and the shelves and drawers almost threatening to fall out. He holds the baby in one arm and the bottle in the other, its empty and held in a tight grip. His eyes widened in alarm and mouth clamped shut for a moment, “We are out of food,” the baby cries, “He’s hungry and we are out of food” he glances back the shelves.

They carefully step toward him, “Maul…” they try to bring him back, “Li-“

Maul isn’t listening, eyes transfixed on the shelves and drawers, “ I know it was full. It was full Starlight. I always make sure it is..”

He would have eaten anything before.. anything to fill the ache..even the fish he had seen grown as a child. There had been nothing else besides that red and black fish, not even cooked when he ate it.

His baby is hungry and he had no food for them, he can hear the little belly growl and his baby cries louder.

“ Maul we moved it. Remember we moved it? “ his Starlight takes his hand, Maul flinches, “ We moved it, it's all here, “ they take him to another part of the nursery to a set of cabinets. They  hesitantly let go “Look here.” They open the cabinet wide so he can see.

The cabinet is fully stocked, each little canister neatly displayed and forward. It reminds him of the few times where he had gotten enough to eat, just enough to keep the grumbling away.

Maul sets the bottle down hard on the cabinet. He grabs at a  canister knocking down the other and struggles to rip it open, “Maul plea-“ they try again, but Maul is not having it. They can see his panic is still there

“We did not discuss it.” He’s shaking too much.  The canister won’t open,he needs to get it open! 

His baby had missed his feeding, HOW had he forgotten? 

Now his baby was crying out for food. “ We can’t move the food. We can’t.” How did he forget. 

“He was supposed to eat an hour ago.” Maul flinches when they take the canister and open it. They pick up the bottle and fill it all the way. His baby cries and suckles at the air upon seeing the bottle filled.

“ I was supposed to feed him…he’s been hungry and I was supposed to feed him.” Maul tries to hand off the baby but his Starlight just puts the bottle back his hand and shakes their head, “ He’s okay Maul, it's just a little late. He will be okay, my love.” 

The two of them sit back against the cabinets as Maul feeds the baby. His little one tries to drink it fast and his starlight has to remind Maul to make sure the baby takes it slow.

Maul  huddles over his baby, “He’s hungry. If he’s hungry…”

“ He’ll drink it too fast and get sick.” They remind him, “ Then he will be hungry and not want to eat.”

Maul relents and takes his starlight’s advice. “ I’m sorry.” he whispers to the baby.

“ Maul you were late. It’s okay things like this happen.” his Starlight  assured him.

Maul bows his head, “ I don’t want him to be hungry, I want him to grow as he should.” he strokes a little round cheek, “ My little star is never going to go without Starlight. I swear he won't.”

There’s no arguing with Maul right now. He was recalling what he had missed, what he lacked all the things he had been desperate to ensure his child would have. 

His Starlight kisses his cheek in comfort, “ I know you will Maul. I know.”

His little one coos as he finishes the last of the bottle and maul gives a shaky sigh of relief at the sight of his happy baby. His cheeks are rosy, and Maul pinches his cheek gently.

His baby is happy and healthy and growing as he should.

#dad!maul #darth maul #maul #baby tomato #darth maul x reader #maul x reader #tw malnourishment #tw food

[malkumtend]

I Like Your Laugh (A CrowSquirrel AU) - Chapter 13.

It wasn’t the strike that made Crowpaw’s head spin, it was how he landed against the stone. His vision flashed a painful white as his head bumped against the floor. Momentarily, he was sure he could hear blood pulsing in his skull, then he heard the furious hisses of his friends.

“You want to try that with me?!” Squirrelpaw’s voice yowled.

“I don’t want to do anything like that to any of you.” A voice responded, calm and smooth. “But if you try to force your way past us, we will do what we must.”

“We will not let you disturb the prophecy!” Another voice growled.

Crowpaw heard Tawnypelt snarl. “And we won’t allow you to keep our friend captive!”

The Windclan apprentice clenched his teeth, sluggishly raising himself back to his paws. The side of his head throbbed with blunt pain and Crowpaw had to stiffen himself on his paws to keep steady. He caught Feathertail’s scent as she rubbed her head under his chin.

“Careful.” She whispered tenderly.

Crowpaw felt a flush of affection for her act, but it was overshadowed by the rage coursing along every hair on his pelt.

His eyes opened into a blue glare; blinking away the dazed vision, he stared out to the two Tribe guards who stood tall before his snarling friends. Crowpaw couldn’t find the patience to remember the stupidly long names they’d given themselves. He vaguely remembered that the huge tom that had struck him was called Scree, but couldn’t think or care about what the equally large tom beside him was called.

It wasn’t like their names mattered when they were going to be dead soon.

Scree stared stonily at Tawnypelt. “I’m afraid it’s nothing you can change. He has been prophesised to defeat Sharptooth! The Tribe of Endless Hunting has decided on it!” The guard didn’t move to threaten them, but he made his size known to the Clan cats.

This whole thing was utter madness to the clan cats. They had been found by this Tribe-of-Endless-Hunting a few days ago, a group of cats that lived inside a cave hidden behind a great waterfall on the mountain.

At first, everything had slowly become relaxing, even Crowpaw was taken in by the cat’s hospitality. They had been allowed to hunt and rest with the Tribe while they figured out their next move on their journey.

But when they had tried to leave the Tribe. It all became clear why they were really there.

They were prisoners.

The Tribe claimed that Stormfur was meant to be some ‘silver cat’ prophecised, by what Crowpaw assumed was their image of Starclan, to kill this vicious lion creature named Sharptooth that had been slowly hunting and picking off the Tribe moon by moon. It sounded like fox-dung to Crowpaw, but the Tribe were determined. They weren’t going to allow Stormfur to leave.

And now they’d taken him away from the group, away from his screaming sister, and had herded the rest of them into some cavern at the back of the cave.

Crowpaw grunted, taking a step towards the guards. They didn’t look worried. “We already have our own journey to make! We don’t have time to waste helping you scum!” Crowpaw flashed his fangs furiously. It didn’t matter how many times these brutes knocked him down, he wasn’t going to give up that easily.

“You will be able to continue your own path in the morning.” The other guard stated, blinking steadily. “We will even point you in the right direction.”

“You don’t understand!” Crowpaw looked beside him to see Brambleclaw. The Warrior was clearly trying to keep control, holding a strong tail between Squirrelpaw and the nearest guard. “Our journey includes us all! We can’t just leave Stormfur behind!”

“And we can’t just let our saviour leave us.” The guard meowed levelly. For a split second, the cat’s eyes cast away from the group, grimacing with a splitting look of pain. “If you could only see what Sharptooth has done before, you would understand.”

Brambleclaw’s tail swung around in frustrated panic.

“Please.” A soft voice mewed. Crowpaw peered down to where Feathertail tearfully faced the two guards, her ears and tail low. The grey apprentice felt his heart ache at the sight of his friend’s misery. “Please, you can’t do this. This has to be some kind of mistake.”

The two guards looked at each other, then held their heads low. “The Tribe of Endless Hunting makes no mistakes.” Scree said softly. “A silver cat is what will save us from generations of suffering.”

“But it can’t be Stormfur!” Feathertail pleaded. “He has to come home with us! I can’t leave him here with you!” The torment in the cat’s voice was unbearable to hear. Her friends all cooled in their threats to look on pitifully at the grieving molly. Her blue eyes glistened with tears, “Please. He’s my brother!”

Even in the darkness of the cave, the pity in Scree’s face was undeniable. The large cat took a step forward, making the nearest cat, Tawnypelt, let out a warning hiss. “I’m sorry. But it cannot be changed.” Scree lowered his ears as he looked gently out towards Feathertail. “We have to keep him here. He needs to save us. You see,” As if anticipating his partners next words, the other guard lowered his gaze to the stone floor. “I don’t want to lose anymore of my brothers. I have seen too many brothers, sisters and friends lost to that creature, and I am not going to let our hope of freedom just slip away. Surely, you can understand that.” There was a small flash of hope in the guard’s eyes.

Feathertail’s only reply was a soft wail.

Tawnypelt lashed her tail in a fury, “And if we leave him with you cretins, then we risk our own prophecy, our entire home could be lost!”

Scree exhaled and straightened himself up again, his gaze hardened. “Your own Tribe will protect you, as ours have done us.”

Tawnypelt grunted in response but Brambleclaw pressed his paw on her tail before she could jump forward to pounce.

“There is nothing else to say about it.” The other guard dictated, turning on his haunches. “There is prey left for you in these quarters, as well as enough room to get some rest. We will escort you away in the morning.”

“While you keep our friend prisoner!” Squirrelpaw hissed through clenched fangs.

The guard looked back with a blank stare. “Please just get some rest. You won’t help yourselves by fighting us.”

We’ll see about that.

Crowpaw pulled himself away from his crying friend, crouching down quickly and preparing himself to spring. He wasn’t going to let these mange-pelts get away with keeping him prisoner!  Scree saw the battle reignite in the apprentice’s eyes and he too tensed for the approaching fight. But as soon as Crowpaw’s back legs left the ground, he was pulled back down with a swift clamp on his scruff.

Crowpaw roared in anger as he was pressed down on his belly. He tried to lift himself up, but the strong paws on his back and the teeth on his scruff held him securely in place. He looked up and saw Brambleclaw’s large head overshadowing him, his amber eyes still fixed hatefully on the pair of guards.

“Let me go, you bee-brain!” Crowpaw demanded. Was the Warrior really going to let the Tribe have their way? After how they had betrayed the groups trust and taken their friend from them! He didn’t think much of Brambleclaw at all, but at the very least he expected him to stick up for the safety of the rest of them. They needed to teach these flea-bitten strays a lesson! Especially when it threatened Starclan’s prophecy! Crowpaw swatted his tail against the Warriors pelt, but the Thunderclan cat kept still, which left Crowpaw motionless.

Relief crept into the guard cats’ faces, though there had never been a hint of fear. “For everyone’s sakes, do not try anything like that.” Scree warned, a spark of fire in his eyes as he stared at the struggling apprentice. “As long as you all respect our Tribe, nobody has to be harmed.”

“Go fall off the mountain!” Squirrelpaw snapped. Her voice sounded closer but Crowpaw couldn’t see her. He did hear a tight whisper though, presumably to Brambleclaw. “If you hurt him, I swear I’ll rip your ear.”

Crowpaw’s struggles began to loosen.

The two guards didn’t respond, only the steps of their paws leaving the cats pounded around the chamber.

“We’ll be keeping guard by the entrance to your chamber.” Scree’s low voice rumbled. “So, please don’t try anything difficult.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it!” Tawnypelt snarled behind her clenched teeth. The Tribe cats ignored her, stalking away to the narrow cylinder of stone that shaped the entrance.

Once they were out of sight and their voices became a low hum compared to the slashing rush of the cave waterfall, Crowpaw felt the pressure on his back ease. The apprentice kicked his back legs and scrambled away from Brambleclaw, turning on him with eyes full of rage.

“What are you doing? You’re just going to give in?” Crowpaw exclaimed, his neck fur rising.

Brambleclaw narrowed his eyes on the apprentice, sighing as he turned to glance at the prey that the guards had left them. “You’re not going to help Stormfur by getting yourself mauled.”

“And doing nothing is?”

“There’s nothing we can do for now.” Brambleclaw began to pad away to the pile, his head lowered and his tail slack. “Even if we could take on those two, we still have an entire Tribe to get by. And you can bet your life that they’ll have more guards around Stormfur, probably their best as well.”

A cold silence loomed over the cats.

“So, what are we going to do?” Squirrelpaw meowed, her green eyes burning with frustration. She turned to the still shivering Feathertail and anger twisted across her muzzle. “We have to get Stormfur back! We’re not leaving without him!”

Tawnypelt nodded, “We have to find a way to him somehow.”

“We will.” Brambleclaw declared, his eyes hard as he stared back at his companions. “But not tonight. These cats are ready for trouble now they’ve revealed what they’re really up to. There is no way we’ll be able to reach him right now.”

Crowpaw’s tail spiked. Waiting? They couldn’t waste anymore time! “So you’d rather just sit here and eat their rot like a good little kit!” He growled. Brambleclaw was meant to be a warrior, not some soft-hearted coward. These cats were holding their friend hostage, they couldn’t just leave him alone!

Brambleclaw took a swift bite out of a hawk left for him and swallowed gravely. “I’d rather that no cats got hurt.”

Bad answer. “Oh, like that was something you cared about before.” Crowpaw muttered, using his tail to point out the scars on his pelt. He didn’t care anymore that he’d forgiven the tom for that, if he was going to just let them sit here, Crowpaw was going to make him look like a fool!

Brambleclaw just turned away heavily, rubbing his face with a forepaw.

“Crowpaw!” Tawnypelt meowed sternly. “That isn’t going to help any of us.”

“I want to get Stormfur back, not laze around like your mange-clumped-!”

“Guys!”

The cats turned to Squirrelpaw’s shout. The apprentice was curled beside Feathertail, rubbing her head comfortingly against the molly. Crowpaw felt his stomach twist. The Riverclan cat was weeping softly into her forepaw, sniffling and whimpering as she desperately tried to hold herself together after the loss of her brother.

“It’s alright.” Squirrelpaw mewed, licking Feathertail’s shoulder tenderly. “We’ll get him back, I promise.”

Feathertail let out another sob as the apprentice’s tail curled around her. “Why? Why has this happened?” Watching her cry like this was almost excruciating to Crowpaw. His anger boiled as he saw the cat that had smiled and laughed beside him for the longest time, now reduced to tears before him.

“We should never have come here!” Tawnypelt groaned, her paw stamping on the stone ground. “We should have taken the Twoleg-place again! Why did Midnight send us this way? Was it a trick?”

Crowpaw’s eyes widened at that thought and his pelt prickled heatedly. “I knew we should never have trusted her!” Badgers were evil, every cat knew that, they were fools for thinking one wanted to help them!

“But Starclan sent us to her.” Brambleclaw said, quietly as if it was just meant to be his own thoughts. “Why would she trick us if we were meant to find her?” He let out a cold breath. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

Crowpaw twitched an ear in thought as another silence filled the caves. That was true. Had there been some kind of mistake? Had they gone wrong? Or had Midnight tricked them herself against Starclan’s orders. Every thought had no answer and it only made Crowpaw angrier and angrier. What did it matter? Something had led them to this terrible place and away from their destination.

“What if…” Tawnypelt’s voice wavered with a small terror. “What if we were meant to come here and Stormfur really is this chosen cat?”

The thought that Starclan would intentionally want them to leave one of their own behind to fight some unknown battle was enough to make Crowpaw shiver. But it was Feathertail’s eyes, the eyes that were usually so happy and tender, now cracking with a tormenting horror and panic, that made Crowpaw snap.

“No!” He yelled at the Shadowclan molly. “There is no way we were meant to abandon Stormfur like this! This is all just a made up prophecy by these cave-dwelling vermin!” He whipped his head over to where he heard the soft voices of Scrag and that other guard, and his muscles tensed with fierce adrenaline. He was going to make those fox-pelts pay! “You all may want to sit and do nothing, but not me!”

Crowpaw prepared himself to sprint, ready to surprise those cave-mongrels with his Windclan speed! He would show them what a real Warrior was capable of! He broke off into a run.

Only to be snatched away by a force that had speed that even surprised Crowpaw.

Crowpaw thrashed his paws as he was dragged away from the entrance, his rear sliding across the ground. “Let me go!” He snarled, not caring who it was towards. Before he could turn to look he felt the bite on his scruff depart, replaced by two paws that pushed him against the cave wall, holding him there as his hind paws kicked wildly. He opened his eyes and found Brambleclaw’s yellow stare, as if holding him against the wall with just the hardness in his eyes.

“Brambleclaw!” Squirrelpaw protested, pouncing up to her feet. “Put him down now!”

“Squirrelpaw, wait!” Tawnypelt rushed in front of the cat, using her larger figure to hold her back.

“Tawnypelt, get out of my way! If he claws him again, I’ll-”

“If he does that, I’ll be the first to rip him off! But just wait a second.”

Crowpaw watched as Squirrelpaw gave up in her attempts, but still watched over the toms carefully, emerald eyes wide with concern. The Windclan cat struck his gaze back at the tom, full of savage intent, and began batting his paws at Brambleclaw’s forelegs. “Get your paws off me, you coward!”

Brambleclaw remained stoic, not reacting a little as Crowpaw mercilessly tried to claw at his legs. The apprentice didn’t do much damage apart from tiny scratches in the Warrior’s fur, not enough to leave a major scar. That made Crowpaw hiss with wrath, trying to force more power into his strikes. He couldn’t reach far beyond Brambleclaw’s forelegs though, so the damage didn’t increase. All throughout Crowpaw’s attempts though, Brambleclaw kept as stiff as the cave walls themselves, his face emotionless as he held Crowpaw still.

After a minute of screaming and fruitless attacks, Crowpaw felt the exhaustion build in his limbs. He collapsed his head against the cold wall, still glaring coldly at the Warrior as he panted in his grasp. Crowpaw gripped onto one of Brambleclaw’s forelegs, trying to squeeze his claws into the flesh in one last display of defiance.

“So that’s it.” Crowpaw hissed, “You’re just going to accept this, eh?” The apprentice stared hatefully at the still emotionless Warrior, letting out a disgusted growl.

Brambleclaw didn’t say anything for a moment, perhaps waiting to see if the fight had truly left Crowpaw. “No.” The Warrior said, his voice in a low drawl. “I’m not. But I’m not letting you get yourself killed for nothing.”

“They have our friend.” Crowpaw snarled. He felt comfortable saying that now. Even if it looked like Stormfur didn’t consider him a good one, the Riverclan tom was still Crowpaw’s friend, and he was the brother of one of his best friends. He was one of them, and Crowpaw couldn’t just let the Tribe have him.

“I know. But we’re not going to save him by taking on an entire Tribe.” Brambleclaw let out a hiss of annoyance as Crowpaw turned away with a scoff. “Think about this Crowpaw! Do you think it will end well if you just take on an entire cave of cats? Even if we could get to Stormfur, what’s to stop the Tribe from making sure he doesn’t leave in one piece?”

Crowpaw panted as his expression twisted. “They wouldn’t do that.”

“Cats will do anything when they’re desperate Crowpaw.”

The Windclan tom let out a string of tight breaths. He felt Brambleclaw’s words crawling over him like a snake, poisoning him with the truth. They didn’t know what these cats were capable of. If they wanted to, they could make sure that the cats never saw their friend alive again.

Feeling Crowpaw’s limbs limpen in his grasp, Brambleclaw let out a soft sigh, but he still held the tom in place. “I know that you’re angry Crowpaw. Believe me, if we could, there is nothing I’d want to do more than take revenge on these dirt-clods right beside you!” It was then that Crowpaw did see the burning battle in the Warrior’s eyes, hidden behind a cool exterior. The tightness in the apprentice’s chest began to uncurl. “But we can’t do that right now and guarantee that everyone makes it out safe.”

The Warrior used his eyes to indicate the three mollies to Crowpaw. He looked out to the cats, to his two best friends who were looking back with incredible worry for his safety. If they got hurt because Crowpaw started a battle they couldn’t win…

The tension faded from Crowpaw’s muscles and he went slack, his head bent down in defeated acceptance. Now, he felt Brambleclaw’s hold on him soften. “So, what do we do?” Crowpaw asked softly, noticing fatigue creep into his tone.

“I know you don’t like it. But we have to play along for now.” Brambleclaw took his paws off of the cat, gently letting him slide to the ground again. The Warrior nudged Crowpaw softly. The apprentice took a moment to regain his breath, feeling hollowed by the night’s events, but he found his feet again. “We’ll eat and rest tonight. We all need our strength for tomorrow.”

Crowpaw looked up at him questioningly.

“Because once we make them think we’ve left without a problem. We’re coming back.” Brambleclaw used his tail to pat Crowpaw’s pelt. It felt alarmingly friendly. “And when we do, we’ll be ready. I don’t care if Stormfur is this ‘chosen cat’ or not, this Tribe’s destiny has nothing to do with us, and we won’t let them get in the way of our clan’s future.”

Crowpaw stared up slack-jawed at the intense declaration in the Warrior’s voice. However much he hated to think of it, he almost felt like he was watching a leader speak to his clan. Crowpaw cringed at the thought, but he couldn’t deny that Brambleclaw’s words made him realise that there was no cat that would give up on Stormfur.

“What’s going on in there?” The two toms turned and saw Scree peering at the two a few tail-lengths away. His face was crisp with suspicion and distrust.

For a moment, Crowpaw pulsed with dread at the thought that the guard had heard their plan. But the Tribe cat only looked on and Crowpaw knew they were okay for now.

Brambleclaw let out a savage growl. “Mind your own business!”

Scree narrowed his eyes, meeting the tom’s stare a moment more before he stalked away with a grunt. A while later, a hulking brown guard entered the chamber and sat where Scree had stood before, his ears high and his mouth thin with impatience.

They’re listening for us. Crowpaw realised. His brow curled as he felt Brambleclaw whisper into his ear. “Come on. We’ll go over to the kill pile where they won’t hear us.”

Crowpaw nodded, sending one last spit at the guard before following Brambleclaw. They nodded over to their waiting friends, all sharing a sigh of relief as they saw that no cat had gotten hurt. They gathered around the kill pile, now a good tree-length away from the guard.

Brambleclaw explained his idea to the cats, Feathertail’s tears quelling a little as she saw the clarity in her friends that none of them would leave her brother behind.

“So how do we get to the chamber then?” Tawnypelt asked, now speaking in a hushed voice. “We’ll still have to get past the guards?”

The cats all thought for a second. “What if we come back when it’s dark?” Squirrelpaw queried. “We’ve all seen how dark it gets here and we’ll have the sound of the waterfall to cover us if we’re quiet.”

There was a collective mrrow of agreement at the idea. Crowpaw grinned at his friend. She was right, even when it was light the shadows in the cave were as thick as mud. If they came during the night, there was a good chance they wouldn’t be spotted. But something else did make Crowpaw’s whiskers twitch with worry.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that waterfall. These cats have had time to know when to focus away from it.” He wouldn’t be shocked if the cats had been able to hear a kit’s paw two tree-lengths away. Which didn’t fair well if that guard was any better. He peered back and sighed when he saw the cat scratching his ear with a forepaw.

“It’s the best chance we have.” The cats all turned to Feathertail. The molly had straightened herself, sniffing back sobs and wiping away her tears. She let out a long exhale. “I’ll do it. I’m not leaving Stormfur with these cats.”

Squirrelpaw curled herself up against her friend, her dark ginger fur soothingly mixing with her silver pelt. “And neither are we. We’ll be with you until we get him back!”

“Squirrelpaw’s right.” Brambleclaw meowed. “We all started this journey together and we’re not ending it unless we’re all there as one.”

Feathertail sniffed but her muzzle slowly transformed into a smile. She gazed gratefully at each of her friends, and when she found Crowpaw, the tom nodded at her, gentle determination glinting in his eyes. He would do everything for his friend. And he knew that he had to keep calm for now, the battle could wait. But when the time was right, he was going to make these cats sorry that they ever met the Warriors.

“We should eat.” Tawnypelt mewed, picking at a rabbit in front of her. “We’re going to need our strength.” Her eyes found Feathertail’s. “For Stormfur.”

Whether or not the tears that came out of Feathertail’s eyes were of comfort or heartache was difficult to tell. But she was smiling, and that was enough for Crowpaw. He would make sure that she kept like that, they were not ending this without Stormfur.

But Tawnypelt was right. He needed his strength. Reluctantly, he took a bite out of his own prey, telling himself that he would not enjoy one bit of it. He owed no thanks to these carrion chasers, he made his gut hollow and imagined the taste to be bland, it was all just a matter of sustenance.

Brambleclaw finished first, he stretched his forepaws out, and Crowpaw couldn’t stop a small uneasiness from affecting him as he saw the scratches along the brown fur. The cold trepidation that he had been wrong to act how he did made him wince and look away.

“Everyone get a good rest.” Brambleclaw meowed gently, though his fur still spiked with choked back animosity. “We’ve got a long day tomorrow.” He gave a smooth nod to each of the group, stopping on Crowpaw for a moment that made the grey cat bristle.

There was no anger in the tom’s eyes. He just gave a similar nod to Crowpaw. As if a silent promise that justice would be delivered. Unconsciously, Crowpaw nodded back. Then the Thunderclan Warrior padded away, curling up by the wall of the cave.

Crowpaw was eased away from the Warrior as he felt a soft touch on his shoulder. He turned and saw Squirrelpaw beside him, he was about to smile, then he saw her brow furrowed and his mouth sat thin.

Suddenly, Squirrelpaw wavered, raising her paw to brush over the side of Crowpaw’s muzzle. A sudden sting let Crowpaw know it was the spot where Scree had struck him. He let out a silent groan. Great, now I’ve worried her.

“Is it bad?” Squirrelpaw mewed, Crowpaw blushed when he felt her paw accidentally stroke his whiskers. His stomach curled in a strange, warm way that made his head feel lighter.

The Windclan cat straightened up, sneering. “As if? I’ve been hurt more by playing with kits in the nursery!” He lied. He didn’t want her worrying over him. Though, he couldn’t help but feel an uncertain satisfaction, a happiness, that she did stop to care about him, even in all this.

He wouldn’t admit to Ashfoot that she had been right when scolding her sulking kit. But chances were she already knew she was. It was really good to have a friend.

Squirrelpaw snorted, clear disbelief in her orbs. “I’d hate to see what damage Thunderclan kits could do to you, then?”

“Well, you’re about as big as one.”

She laughed for a gleaming moment, then widened her eyes and pulled her paw away from his muzzle. Instantly, the sting seemed to return, as well as a harsh coldness. Crowpaw twitched his tail as Squirrelpaw clicked her tongue, her head turning away in a random, aimless direction. Crowpaw saw her fur flatten on her back and thought he found the reason when he saw that Brambleclaw was in her line of sight.

Crowpaw rested his tail on her flank, snickering. “Don’t worry about him. It didn’t hurt when he had me up against the wall.”

Squirrelpaw made a small murmur. “Okay.” She didn’t sound too invested.

A silver shape moved in the corner of Crowpaw’s sight. Feathertail had begun to stroll to the wall, her tail still hanging low, as an obvious plague still shrouded her face. She flicked her tail in a small gesture of goodnight, but she made no sound, still she managed a last sad smile at her friends before finding her resting space.

Crowpaw groaned through his teeth, hopelessness and enervation making him lose any appetite he had left.

But before his own weakness could make him any more miserable, he was taken out by a familiar pain swiping him across the ear.

“Would you stop doing that?” Crowpaw snapped, turning to the scowling apprentice beside him. “What have I done now?”

Squirrelpaw’s tail lashed from side to side, knocking rocks at the walls. “What are you waiting for?” She demanded, “Aren’t you going to apologise?”

“What did I do to you?”

“Not to me, mouse-brain!” She scoffed. She gestured to over his shoulder, Crowpaw turned and saw Feathertail curled up into a tight ball, hiding her face from the others. Crowpaw stiffened. Was she still crying? He cursed himself, what was he thinking? Who knew what those cats were doing to her brother? She was suffering more than any of them.

Why had that become so clear just now? Stupid. His mind scolded him.

“Well, you’re her friend, aren’t you?” Squirrelpaw whipped his pelt with her tail. “Get over there!”

Crowpaw faced Squirrelpaw hopelessly, his whiskers curling. “What good will it do?” Crowpaw huffed, “It’s not going to bring Stormfur back.”

“That isn’t the point. She shouldn’t be going through this alone, feather-head.” Squirrelpaw rose a brow, “She needs someone to remind her that we’re not going to give up. I don’t want her to lose hope.”

“Well why don’t you go to her?” Crowpaw said dryly.

Squirrelpaw frowned, “Because I’ve already tried to comfort her, unlike some-tom who got into another fight.” She shook her head at him, “I wish Brambleclaw hadn’t had to do that, but do you really think that was what Feathertail needed?”

Crowpaw felt his fur jolt, his tail twitching as a guilty humiliation pressed against him. “I was just trying to get to Stormfur.” He muttered, though he didn’t sound so confident now.

“I know.” Squirrelpaw’s voice smoothened, but there was still a bite in her tone. “I wish we could tear those cats into crow food this second, but right now we should be thinking about someone else.”

Starclan, if Squirrelpaw was on the same thinking side as Brambleclaw, Crowpaw must have done something wrong. And he had. Seeing Feathertail like that had made Crowpaw furious at the Tribe, but thinking about it now, Crowpaw had done nothing to comfort her. He’d just let his anger get the best of him.

That didn’t help her. That didn’t help any of them.

“Okay, fine, you’re right.” Crowpaw conceded sulkily, he was struggling to keep his head up, feeling weighed down by the events of the night.

Squirrelpaw chuckled humourlessly, “Aren’t I always.”

Crowpaw snorted, but he couldn’t hide his grin. He realised recently how Squirrelpaw just had that ability of lighting up the darkest moments. He needed somecat like her sometimes, she really was a good help. Thankfully, he pressed his head against her side, rubbing gingerly into her fluffy fur. It still shocked Crowpaw a little how close he and Squirrelpaw had become. He could still remember when the only contact between them would have been her claws across his face.

Now, she just had to brush against him and he felt just the smallest bit better.

But he stiffened when he felt her flinch and pull away from him, standing up in a bolt, all of her fur on edge. Crowpaw saw her staring down at him, a look of panic on her face. The two friends stared at each other, equally astounded. Had he done something wrong? He was only trying to be friendly.

Crowpaw wilted slightly, frowning, and there was a brief weakness in Squirrelpaw’s face. “S-Sorry.” She mumbled swiftly, smoothing down her frazzled fur. “Um, look, you should r-really talk to Feathertail though.” She meowed, contorting her muzzle into a tight smile. “Let her know it’s going to be fine; she’ll want to hear that from you.”

Before Crowpaw could think of a response, Squirrelpaw had turned away, mumbling something Crowpaw couldn’t hear.

In the small time he had before the cat would spring away, Crowpaw thought of the first thing he could from his list of questions. “Why would she want to hear it from me?”

He didn’t know if that was the right thing to ask. More likely a ‘what’s wrong?’ would have worked, but Squirrelpaw still stopped in her tracks. Crowpaw felt a small hint of relief.

It didn’t remain for long. Squirrelpaw kept still for a while, not turning back to him. But Crowpaw noticed her ears press back, and he saw her tail flare and deflate in a quick successive pattern. His unease only grew as he tried to imagine what expressions she was making.

It didn’t look like anything he’d like.

Finally, she looked back. A stiff frown on her muzzle, and bemused exhaustion in her green eyes. “Because you’re her friend and she likes you.” She attested, snappy, but still tightly composed. “Now get your tail over there!”

Crowpaw craned his head, unsure how to exactly take her response. Was she angry at him or not? “Well, why don’t you come?” Surely Feathertail would appreciate both of their company rather than just his. Plus, Crowpaw shifted uncomfortably, it felt better when it was the three of them. More natural.

Squirrelpaw’s mouth opened slightly, gaping, as her brow creased. She made a small grunt of disbelief, followed by a breathy pulse of a laugh. For a moment, her jaw seemed to roll back and forth, then sat into an almost mocking smile again. “You’re such a rabbit-brain.” She said quietly, turning away as she did so. This time, she didn’t look back. She just began to walk away like their brief conversation had never happened.

Crowpaw sat there, his jaw hanging, still beyond confused. He knew that they had their cheeky back and forth constantly, and he enjoyed it more every day. But that was just bizarre. Usually he had to have done something to warrant her kittish nicknames and insults.

The apprentice looked aside with a small growl. He wasn’t so much angry by how she reacted, just bewildered, and admittedly a little hurt. Sure, she didn’t seem overly angry at him, but something had to be up! They’d had closer contact then that small head touch before, it didn’t make sense why she would react like he had scratched her. Had she been hurt by one of the guards when they’d pushed them all into this cavern?

Whatever it was, it seemed like Squirrelpaw just wanted him to go speak to Feathertail.

Crowpaw sighed. He supposed that was understandable. Maybe Squirrelpaw was just looking out for another on of her friends. Still didn’t answer why she wouldn’t come along though.

Crowpaw might have become angrier at that thought if he hadn’t rested his eyes on Feathertail again.

Curled up. Alone. The brother so closely kept beside her now nowhere to be found.

Something stabbed inside of Crowpaw, and he rose. No matter what was up with Squirrelpaw, the ginger molly had been right. Some cat did need someone to talk to.

Crowpaw gently strolled up to the silver cat, hesitantly holding up a paw and questioning whether she was asleep or not. “Feathertail.” He mewed, so softly that no sleeping cat would have heard it.

But the silver cat shifted out of her ball, raising her head up and smiling lightly at the apprentice. “Oh, h-hey Crowpaw.” She rubbed her eyes of the fresh tear stains, making Crowpaw bite his lip. She tried to look like nothing happened. “What is it?”

The grey cat gazed at her a moment longer. You don’t need to act strong. He sat down beside her, his tail resting next to hers. He could feel her tail jolt slightly, but she didn’t pull it away so Crowpaw relaxed. “Are you okay?” It was a stupid question, but Crowpaw couldn’t think of anything else that would show he was thinking about her.

Feathertail let out a toneless laugh, gazing away at her paws, her smile was proven false as shadow came back over her face. “Not really.”

Crowpaw nodded, inwardly glowering at himself, ashamed that he had even asked. “Sorry.”

“No, you don’t need to be sorry.” Feathertail curled her tail so that it was linked with his. Crowpaw felt his face heat up. “I know you just want to help, and I really appreciate it. But…” She looked away again, her blue pupils trembling.

Crowpaw gave her ear a quick lick, wanting to do anything to show that she wasn’t alone in her grief. “It’s going to be fine. We’re not going home without him.”

“I know we’re not. I’m just,” She sniffed again. “I’m just thinking about Stormfur. He’s all alone with them; what if he thinks we’ve left him behind?”

“He’d never believe that! He knows we wouldn’t leave without him!”

“But he wasn’t chosen by Starclan, Crowpaw.” Feathertail squeaked, tears pricking the corner of her eyes. “Even if he doesn’t act like it, I know that he’s bothered by that. He might feel like we don’t need him.”

That sent a shiver down Crowpaw’s spine, because he could see Stormfur thinking that. The Windclan cat cringed as he remembered that it was something that he had consistently said to the Riverclan tom when they’d first set off on their journey.

Now he wished he could take it all back.

“Chosen or not,” Crowpaw mused slowly, “He’s one of us, and you’re his sister. I don’t believe he could ever forget that.”

The Warrior glanced up, still despaired, but now mellowing with thought.

“Consider this. Do you believe Stormfur would think we’d ever abandon Squirrelpaw? Even though she wasn’t chosen either?”

Feathertail’s eyes dotted down then up. “…No.” She muttered.

“Do you think Stormfur would ever abandon Squirrelpaw?” Crowpaw rose a brow, smirking a little. “Even putting aside the obvious.”

Feathertail actually made a sound resembling a laugh at that. “No.”

“Right!” Crowpaw meowed briskly, “He’s no hare-brain, he knows we’re coming for him. And I bet you he’s not gone down without a fight!” The apprentice curled his tail in declaration, “He won’t just let these scum-pelts drag him into their pathetic prophecy! He’s only loyal to his own clan! And to us!” Crowpaw added the last part on quickly.

Slowly, something began to shine more and more in Feathertail’s eyes as the apprentice continued. Her smile began to look much more suiting. “You think so?”

“I know it!” Crowpaw scoffed indignantly. “It doesn’t matter anyway, because we’re going to get him out of there and prove it to him! All of us have already said that we are.”

Feathertail nodded slowly, looking happy and uneasy at the same time. She looked up again at Crowpaw, moonlight and something else reflecting in her stare. “Stormfur’s lucky to have friends as loyal as all of you.”

Crowpaw shrugged, smiling at the gleaming shift in Feathertail’s expression. “Yes he is.” Suddenly realising why he was there in the first place, Crowpaw lowered his eyes. “I still didn’t help though, did I?”

“Crowpaw?” Feathertail mewed incredulously.

The Windclan tom sighed, letting himself give in to the familiar shame of being wrong, “Going after the Tribe like that?” Crowpaw said bitterly, “I could have made everything even worse.”

“What?” Feathertail straightened up, flickering with a small fire. “What are you talking about? You were just trying to help!”

Crowpaw scoffed, she really was too kind for her own good. “Some help.” He said with self-slaughtering scorn. “All I did was get batted down like a mouse and ignore who really needed my help.” He didn’t need to look up to show who he meant. It had been his lack of judgement had caused him to abandon his friend’s needs. He deserved whatever anger or disappointment she was keeping hidden from him.

“Oh Starclan!” Feathertail piped suddenly, “I’m sorry, how could I forget?!” Crowpaw glanced up again, troubled by strange concern in her tone, and found his chin being gently moved to the side as Feathertail examined the wound on his cheek.

“Those pieces of fox-dung!” Feathertail snarled, not afraid to shoot a glare in the direction of the lone guard. With a flick of her tail, she was back to her gentle worry as she pressed her tail against Crowpaw’s flank. “Are you alright?”

Unbelievable. This cat, who was clearly struggling with her own heartache, was asking if he was okay? Crowpaw almost felt wrong in how strange this was. “I-I’m fine.” Crowpaw gaped, “Why are you worrying about me? I’m the one who tried to fight them!”

“Because you were hurt.” Feathertail gawked.

“But I didn’t even land a mark on them.” Crowpaw’s pupils wavered down, “I didn’t help anyone.”

“But you tried.” Feathertail purred at him, rubbing her cheek against his carefully. “It might not have been the smartest move you’ve ever made.” She giggled lightly, but her eyes were shimmering with appreciation. “But you were still trying to help, in your own way. That’s enough for me.”

It didn’t feel like enough for Crowpaw. He still felt useless. But he could tell that Feathertail meant what she said. His actions had meant something to her.

That made him feel a little better.

He groaned, immediately feeling selfish again.

“It still wasn’t the right call to make.” Crowpaw accepted, going slack as the cat continued to rub against him. “I’m sorry about that.”

Feathertail let out a sweet purr. “You already made up for it.”

He hadn’t, but he allowed himself to smile at her forgiveness. Soon he would earn it for real. The right way. He would do everything he could to get Stormfur out of there. Not just because the tom was his friend, but to make Feathertail smile again.

“I’m lucky too.” Crowpaw went stiff as he felt a soft weight against his shoulder. His eyes darted to the side where Feathertail rested her head, a melancholy smile on her face. “I’m so happy I met you all.” Her breathing became a little shallower, and Crowpaw felt fresh tears touch his shoulder. “Sorry.” She mumbled.

“Don’t be.” Crowpaw said, using his tail to rub her back. “Let it out.” He couldn’t save Stormfur, but right now, he could be there when she needed it. He would stay all night if he needed to.

He didn’t need to. Thankfully, Feathertail’s tears didn’t last long and she pulled her face out of Crowpaw’s shoulder. She still didn’t take her head away though; not that Crowpaw minded. The Warrior let out a shaky breath, easing against the smaller cat.

“It’s funny.” Feathertail mewed in a way that showed no humour. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without you guys when this is all over.” She sighed, closing her eyes. “You’re all the best friends I’ve ever had.”

Crowpaw’s eyes shot open as the fact he’d tried to ignore surged up again into his throat. “You make it sound like we’ll never see each other again.”

Feathertail peered up, but she didn’t move her face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I’ll do everything I can to see you whenever I can.” Her eyes grew heavy again, “But it won’t be the same.”

Crowpaw couldn’t argue with that, despite how much he wanted to. Could he even want to? His loyalty was meant to be drawn to one clan. But after all this time, could he just abandon the friends he’d made and act like he wouldn’t wish for more nights under the stars with them.

Then he remembered.

“Actually, me and Squirrelpaw were talking about that.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, and,” He met her eyes with a rare vulnerability. Would she be as open to the idea as he was? “Squirrelpaw actually suggested… I mean, I want to be loyal to my clan, but… How would you like it, if the three of us met in secret?”

She reacted much sooner than Crowpaw had, and much happier as well. Her eyes lit up like the hidden stars. “Really? That would be amazing! That’s a fantastic idea!”

A mixture of amazement and joy overwhelmed Crowpaw! How could a Warrior be so willing to these kind of ideas? Oh well, it was good news for him. “Okay then!” He meowed, “Then I guess we don’t have anything to worry about. If we’re clever enough, we could meet up every night!”

Feathertail laughed, “Hmm?” She purred playfully, Crowpaw felt it on his cheek and he chuckled at the ticklish feeling. “You and Squirrelpaw are pretty sly; maybe it could work!”

Crowpaw shrugged, “Hey, we won’t know until we try. I want to do it though.”

“I do to.” Feathertail purred again, the feeling was now softer. Crowpaw glanced down and paused when he saw the look in Feathertail’s eyes. She still had her cheek buried into his shoulder, and deep in the blue ripples of her eyes, there was an overwhelming glow of happiness. And, Crowpaw thought, there was something else in there. Something gentle and serene ran inside Feathertail’s voice.

“I want to see you again.”

A frightening and forbidden thought made its way into Crowpaw’s head. His muzzle parted open into a small look of astonishment. That look… It looked familiar, yet unknown. He saw how happy Feathertail was, and he could feel her warm breath as she sighed against him.

Crowpaw managed to fathom the thought.

Did she…

Within a breath, Feathertail whipped her head away, her ears twitching as she craned her head, eyes furrowed in deep consideration. Crowpaw, maybe out of desperation, shook away the previous thoughts and stretched his head out with a rising brow.

“What is it?”

“Shh.” Feathertail ushered with a soft urgency. “Can’t you hear that?”

Crowpaw looked over to where her head was arched to. But all he could hear was the sound of the waterfall, rushing a soft current across the cave, as delicate as a moth’s wing.

“Hear what?”

“Voices?”

“Voices?” Crowpaw listened again but heard nothing else. He looked Feathertail up and down with a small twinge of worry. “It’s probably just the cave guards.”

Feathertail shook her whiskers. “No. It sounded like…” She stopped to listen again, her eyes suddenly widening a little. She mouthed a small word. No.

“Feathertail?” Crowpaw extended a paw onto his friend’s shoulder. The cat lowered her ears, straightening again, but her face was still twisted with thought.

“I…Nevermind.” Feathertail mewed briskly, “You’re right, it was probably just the cave guards.” She didn’t sound like she believed that.

“What did they say?” Crowpaw’s neck fur bristled.

Feathertail blinked, biting her lip for a split second, then settling down again, licking Crowpaw’s ear tenderly. Crowpaw now stiffened a little. “It doesn’t matter. I probably just need to get some sleep.” Feathertail purred as she rubbed against him again. “Go on, you should get to your own sleeping hollow.”

Crowpaw let out a small noise of confusion. This didn’t seem right. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

“I’m sure, it was nothing.” Feathertail said, tail still twitching a little. Crowpaw frowned. “Crowpaw, believe me, you’ve already helped me enough. Thanks for coming over.” She smiled with a finality that proved that she wouldn’t, or didn’t want to, discuss it further.

Crowpaw just wanted to keep her smiling.

Plus, he couldn’t help that small thought from pricking him. The look that had been in her eyes.

He grunted, forcing it away from him. He was being ridiculous, there was no way she…

He didn’t want to end that.

“Okay then.” Crowpaw got to his paws, smiling down at her, fire in his eyes. “You get some sleep, tomorrow we’re going to make these cats sorry they were ever born!”

Feathertail chuckled, still twitching with an unknown trouble. “I know. So you get some as well. Goodnight.”

“Night.” Crowpaw mewed, padding away, hiding those stupid, terrible thoughts down in his gut. There was no way. No way it was like that. He was just being stupid. Overcome by the realisation of his exhaustion, Crowpaw yawned. Feathertail was right, he would need his energy for tomorrow.

I’m going to make fox-chow of these cats!

As he made his way back to his own hollow, he felt a shiver in his pelt that convinced him to turn to where a ginger apprentice was. She was curled up, face towards him, heavy with sleep. Crowpaw smiled softly. You were right, she did need someone to talk to. He’d tell her about how Feathertail was on board with meeting in secret tomorrow, already smirking at how happy that would make the apprentice. Then Crowpaw began to wonder about what Feathertail had said; how nothing would be the same when they got back.

How he didn’t want to imagine life without his new best friends.

He shook his head again. That was a while away, and they had all agreed that none of them wanted it to end. They were all going to make an effort to keep their bond alive.

Crowpaw now wasn’t afraid to admit how much he wanted that.

He mouthed a goodnight to Squirrelpaw, still beaming, before he retired to his own sleeping hollow.

What he didn’t know was that the ginger cat’s eyes had not been entirely closed. And he hadn’t noticed her ears high on alert, listening to the whole conversation, noticing the feelings that Feathertail had portrayed.

He certainly didn’t see the lack of joy in her eyes.

…

#squirrelflight #crowsquirrel #crowfeather #squirrelcrow #Warriors #Warrior Cats #warriors au #fanfiction #brambleclaw #tawnypelt #Stormfur #Feathertail

[yourdeepestfathoms]

Baby Bat

Wing Chart

[Wing AU]

[UK Tour]

some Momward anyone? ;)

TW: Broken bones, vomit

---------------------------

“She’s gonna get pummeled into the ground…”

“I told her not to do it…”

“She thinks she’s showing off…”

The ridicule of the flock was soon cut off by introductions given by an eager cardinal. He flapped his bright red wings, gesturing with one arm to a feathered man on his left.

“On my right we have Zeke of the peregrine falcons!” He shouted. “And on my left we have Joan of the Honduran bats!”

Joan flicked her ears. Her nerves were running wild. She had never cockfought before, but she was so desperate to impress the others that she threw herself into the opportunity when it presented itself.

“Wings up, talons ready, FIGHT!”

Joan pumped her wings down and shot into the air. With such a large wingspan, she was able to get herself rather high, but peregrine falcons were known for their speed and it wasn’t long before Zeke caught up to her. He reared back and then slammed one of his wings into Joan’s stomach.

For a moment, Joan is falling. Fast.

She flapped her useless wings and managed to catch herself, but Zeke was already upon her again. She twisted upwards and flew away rather than fighting. 

The crowd below her was getting antsy. They started to hate her even more. She needed to fight back.

Whirling around, Joan’s attempted strike was countered with a heavy blow to her head.

Joan plummeted.

She fell at an incline, too dizzy to catch herself. When she hit the ground wing-first, there’s a horrible CRUNCH, but her body continued to go forward, ripping off skin and fur in the process. When she finally rolled to a halt, there’s a large patch of white fur missing, leaving an ugly bare spot. Blood dyes raw, pale flesh red, only adding to the eyesore.

What’s worse? She was sprawled out right in front of her flock.

Joan didn’t dare look at them. She tried to push herself up, tried to shake off the pain, but then a boot drove into her stomach and she collapsed onto her throbbing wing. Her spine arched and she couldn’t choke back the cry of pain that wormed out of her throat.

From above her, Zeke smirks as he rolls her over. He grabs onto her wounded wing and lifts her up before laughing.

“This was too easy.” He said.

“It looks like we have a winner!” Warbled the cardinal.

The crowd parted soon after, as watching a bat moan and groan on the street wasn’t that fun. Joan’s heavy wings kept her grounded no matter how hard she tried to stand up. Her flock weren’t in any hurry to help her.

“You did, uhh, great!” Maria said, which only made Joan feel worse.

“Don’t…lie to me,” The bat grunted. She pulled away and tried to walk on her own, but the pain in her wing was too severe. Her small body just couldn’t support itself anymore. Aragon swooped in before she could break her nose on the pavement when she fell forward.

“Easy,” The dragon chided lightly, “Your wing is broken, Joan. Don’t push yourself.”

Almost on cue, the bones shift beneath her skin. Joan’s stomach bubbled in warning.

“I-I think I’m gonna-”

She definitely was.

Nearby avians either snicker in amusement or scoff in disgust when the bat- just a bat. just a useless bat. just a stupid fucking bat- dropped down to her knees, throwing up all over the street. Joan cringed as some of her dinner splashed out onto her hands and knees, which makes her stomach roil like a nest full of restless snakes. She vomited again.

Aragon, not phased by the mess Joan was making, crouched down next to her and began to rub her back gently, but made sure to stay away from the injured area. She coiled one arm around Joan’s heaving stomach to support her in case she passed out, while also brushing her hair out of the way. Howard was making herself useful unfurling her huge pink wings and flaring them at anyone who stared for too long. The other simply stood around, not really caring.

“You’re okay, love, you’re okay,” Aragon murmured in that loving, motherly voice of hers. The one that made Joan’s heart leap every time she heard it. The one that Joan didn’t think she deserved. “You’re going to be okay. Just get it out. Then we’ll go home and get you all better, alright?”

Thank god broken wings weren’t something that required medical attention. Avians knew how to treat wounded wings, and just going home and being out of eyesight would make Joan feel a tiny bit better.

The journey back to the house was torturous. Joan insisted on walking on her own, but it came to a point where she was silently sobbing in agony. Her flock saw the way her shoulders shook as she staggered and struggled forward. Eventually, Aragon had to butt in, and she did so by scooping Joan up into her arms. The bat- the stupid, useless, good-for-nothing bat- squealed in alarm, but couldn’t do much in her exhausted, pained state. Her dewclaws latched onto Aragon’s shoulders and held tight.

Much to Joan’s dismay, she was taken to the queen’s house, but decided to keep her mouth shut as she’s carried into the bathroom and set on the rim of the tub. She winced when Aragon prodded her wing, but tried not to move.

“You busted it pretty badly, love,” Aragon said softly. “I’m more worried about that, though.” She nods at the bare patch. “Hold still, okay? I’m going to clean it.”

Joan struggled not to cry out in pain when an antiseptic-soaked rag was pressed to the wounded area. The sting morphed into clarity- something she told herself she deserved for being so pathetic and worthless. It gave her something to grasp onto.

“Shh, shh,” Aragon murmured.

Apparently, she hadn’t been trying hard enough to hold herself together because an unbidden whimper escaped her throat. She choked back another noise before it could come free.

“There. I’m done, darling. It’s okay.”

But it wasn’t. Could the dragon not see how terrible the bat she was taking care of was? How it was a waste of time? How she was a lost cause?

“Your fur might take awhile to grow back. You don’t have to play for the show tomorrow if you don’t want to. We all understand.”

“No, I’m…I’m fine.” Joan choked out.

Aragon frowned a little, but nodded.

“I’m going to put a splint on your wing. Just hold still for me, love.”

———

Joan didn’t take the painkillers she was given. Not that they would help. No, she wallowed in the pain until it became a deep, slicing-like sensation that pounded so viciously it had her running to the bathroom again in the middle of the night.

She hadn’t been able to sleep. She had passed out on the couch from the pain, however her dreams were tainted with the sound of bones crunching and ripping free from wings. It wasn’t her body that was being mauled, though. It was Jane, it was Howard, it was Anne, it was Aragon all being bent into grotesque positions because she hadn’t been able to protect them. When they called out to her, asked her why she didn’t help them, she could not answer.

Joan woke up in tears. If it was from the night terror or the agony radiating in her back, she didn’t know.

Sleep was impossible after that. If it wasn’t the pain, then it was the discomfort of the splint bound to her wing. If it wasn’t the splint, then it was the fear of seeing her mind create images of her dear flock dying brutally. If it wasn’t the fear, then it was the deep-seeded hatred she had for herself.

Eventually, she had enough of tossing and turning and putting pressure on her back. She went to get a drink of water, but now she was in the bathroom, coughing and wheezing and sputtering. Her body was wracked in shivers, but sweat rolled down her face. God, she felt miserable, but she must have looked even more pathetic now.

When she raised her head, she nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw Howard at the doorway. Right, her bedroom was nearby. The worried look on her face made Joan’s stomach twist in guilt and she had to turn away to cough up more bile. When the flow of stomach acid stopped lurching up her throat, she set her head in her folded arms on the toilet seat.

“How long have you been like this, kiddo?” Howard asked, taking a step inside.

“Nnng…” Joan moaned, flushing the toilet before teetering backwards against the wall. Tears pricked in her eyes when she practically crushed her wing against her body and the plaster. Howard noticed and clucked sympathetically.

“Done?” Howard asked.

“I-I think.” Joan panted. She tried to stand up, but her legs were weak and Howard had to steady her.

“Easy, kid,” The dragon said, “Easy. I’ve got you. Let’s take this slow, okay? I won’t let you fall.”

Getting back over to the couch took a lot longer than it should have, but, eventually, Joan collapsed down into the soft cushions. She winces when her wing throbbed again.

“Did you take the painkillers? I thought they would last at least until morn…” Howard’s eyes widened when Joan shamefully shook her head. “You didn’t take them? At all?”

This time the bat- who needed to be shot down- nodded.

“Oh, honey,” Howard murmured. She moves closer and runs her fingers through Joan’s hair because she knew she liked that almost as much as when her ears or wings were stroked, but Howard knew better than to touch her wings right now. “Why? They were gonna make you feel better.”

Joan shrugged uselessly. She can’t get her stupid mouth open to answer or reply to relieve Howard’s concern.

“Sweetheart,” Howard opened a wing around Joan’s smaller body. “Is something wrong? Aside from your injury of course. You can tell me, you know?”

Suddenly, the dam Joan had spent so long trying to subdue feels as though it is about to burst. Her breath hitched and her eyes stung horribly and she felt more panic welling up. She doesn’t know why she’s suddenly losing control of herself like this, but Howard was looking at her so softly and the gentle touch around her is the sweetest thing she had ever felt and she had a sudden, awful, terrible urge to wrap her arms and wings around Howard- to be wrapped up, to be held.

“Joan? Hey, honey, are you okay?”

That does it.

Joan can’t even attempt to stop the tears that are pouring out, the hiccup that escaped her lips or her face from crumpling horrendously. All she can do is swallow down the sobs as best she can, hunch forward until she’s doubled over her knees, and shield her body with her wings to hide her face that is steadily flushing red from embarrassment.

“I…s-sorry, Katherine....I…”

It’s pathetic. She’s pathetic. She can’t even get the sentence out without choking on her rapidly hitching breaths. So she snaps her mouth shut- the last thing she wants is to start sobbing for real.

Minutes passed in silence as she struggled to swallow down her emotions to no avail, gasping for breath and fighting for composure. What made the situation worse is the pure, unadulterated shock she can feel radiating from Howard. And most likely the disgust- Howard is surely looking for a way to escape, Joan thinks, she wouldn’t want to be stuck with herself either. With a sniveling, pathetic excuse for a friend, a lady in waiting, an avian, a human being-

A gentle hand grabs her uninjured wing and slowly pulls it away from her face. Joan can hardly make out Howard’s worried, heartbroken expression through the blurriness of tears before she feels herself being tugged forwards, an arm wrapping around her back and another hand cupping the back of her head. They don’t stop pulling until Joan’s face is nestled snugly into Howard’s chest- forcing Joan’s brain to a stuttering stop. For a moment, she feels too startled to even cry. But then the warm, protective wings wrap her up and she’s whimpering all over again.

Never. Never in a million years did she ever think anything like this would happen- that her ex-queen would wrap her up so tenderly, holding on gently like she was an actual baby bat, precious and breakable.

It’s--

It’s too much. Too overwhelming, yet it's everything she’s ever dreamed of. Joan wanted to shy away from the touch, push Howard to the ground and yell at her and beat her into a bloody pulp with her wings and claws that should have been able to do lots of damage, make her hate Joan even more than she probably already does (like Joan deserved). At the same time, however, she wanted to hold on tightly and never let go, wanted to be cradled like this forever.

She settled for shakily returning the embrace with one wing, holding on with her weak dewclaws, while her trembling hands twisted themselves up in Howard’s nightshirt. Her ears fold back and she can’t stop her shoulders from tensing and shaking just as hard as her hands. Tears continued to leak out, but she stayed silent. She felt like she was going to shake apart in this sweet hold, especially when Howard began to speak ever so gently in her ear.

“Shh, shh, it’s alright. You’ll be okay, Joan.” Her voice was so soothing and velvety, and it sends shivers down Joan’s spine.

“I’m here, darling. I’m here.”

Joan felt truly ruined.

She’s wanted to hear those words for so long. She’s wanted to be held like this all her life. She can’t. It’s too much. And, before she can stop it, an ugly, pained sound a kicked puppy would make escapes her throat, somewhere in between a whimper and a sob. She felt Howard stiffen a little and expected her to pull away. To push Joan off of her, tell her what a nuisance she’s surely being, beat her over the head with her wings until her skull cracks open and her pathetic excuse for a life finally ends. 

But instead, she was squeezed tighter and her back was rubbed with more confidence. It breaks what little is left of her composure and the next moment, Joan is outright sobbing.

Her cries felt like they were being ripped out of her body, leaving her absolutely mortified with embarrassment. She can’t remember the last time she cried this hard and it most certainly had never been in the vicinity of another person, definitely not a queen. She felt terrible for desperately clutching Howard to her, for staining her clothes with tears and god know what else. For burdening her with this, when Joan was only suffering what she deserved, what she brought upon herself--but she can’t find the strength to stop.

Her shoulders jumped violently with every gasping sob and she tried to calm down, to make herself quiet so she won’t wake up the rest of the flock, but it’s so hard when she felt so raw. It doesn’t help that Howard was rocking her, shushing her so gently and practically cooing in her ear, making her feel cared for…and loved.

She cried for what felt like hours and, after a while, her breaths were no longer heaving, but stuttering. The tears were still flowing but it's slower now, too.

Exhaustion set deep into her muscles and she could only really lean against Howard because her wings have gone numb and they’re too heavy to move 

“Feeling a little better?” Howard asked softly, so softly.

Joan shrugged a little, snuggling closer because she did not want to be released. Not yet. The fear was still present, as was the dull pain and the raging hatred.

“I-I just…” She screwed her eyes shut. Oh god, the tears are coming again. “Kat, I hate myself so f-fucking much.” Her voice cracked horribly on the swear and her face turned impossibly red. “I-I don’t know why. B-but ever since we were reincarnated, I just- I can’t stand myself, Kat. I’m so useless. I can’t even work my wings properly, and don’t even get me started on how I fantasize about removing them, pulling them out, breaking them beyond repair-“ She gasped sharply, choking for a moment and jerking out of the embrace. “Oh my god, Kat, I’m such a freak. I’m so sick.”

Her hands flew to the crown of her head as she doubled over, pulling hard on her hair. Immediately, Howard jumped into action, easing her grip open and taking her hands in her own.

“Breathe, love, breathe. In and out. Here, follow me, okay?” Howard took in a deep, exaggerated breath, but the poor little bat in front of her struggled.

Joan shook her head, pulling her wings close around herself.

“I-I can’t.” She whimpered. “H-hold me again. Hold me, Kat, p-please.” Her words come out in pained gasps.

Howard doesn’t hesitate. She pulled Joan all the way into her lap, wrapping her back up in her wings. The poor bat- the useless useless useless little bat with wings too big for her emaciated, pathetic little body- was shaking so violently in her arms.

“Joan, I need you to try to breathe. Please, honey. You’re going to pass out if you don’t.”

Oh how she hoped she passed out. She hoped she suffocated and finally fucking died. For good.

But the pain from oxygen starvation became too much and Joan’s body forced her to take in a sharp breath. She didn’t want to do it again, but then Howard praised her and it sent her head spinning because the love she was being spoken with was all she ever wanted.

“That’s very good, baby, that’s so good.” Howard murmured and there’s a warm smile on her lips. “Can you do it again for me?”

Joan listened this time, only because she liked the tone she was being spoken to with.

“I’m sorry,” She croaked. Her throat strained when she spoke. Her lungs needed more air, but she just wanted to apologize. “I-I didn’t…”

“Shh,” Howard soothed, “We can talk later, okay? Or tomorrow morning. For now, just breathe. Sleep, if you need to. You must be exhausted.”

She was. She really, really was.

“P-promise you’ll be here when I wake up?” She stuttered weakly.

Howard kissed the top of her head before saying, “I promise, little bat.”

#wing au #six the musical #six the musical au #six the musical fanfic #six the musical fanfiction #six fanfiction #six fanfic #uk tour six #tour katherine howard #katherine howard #tour catherine of aragon #catherine of aragon #tour joan on the keys #joan on the keys #tour maria on the drums #momward #mamagon #tw: broken bones #tw: vomit #tw: emetophobia #baby bat

[zinniarhee]

The Foxes & the Hound || Zinnia & Scout - Ft. Layla

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @zinniarhee​ @laylacooke​ @scoutxli​ SUMMARY: Layla finds Scout in the woods and brings her to Zinnia’s clinic. Zinnia witnesses Scout’s shift back into a human and they realize that they’re one of the same. CONTENT: Blood, Gore. 

Ever since she had come to White Crest, the one thing Scout had come to value most had been the numerous forests and access to the ocean and waterways of Maine. She had found the well needed peace and freedom, she had longed so desperately for after her brother died. Though her mind still lacked the ease it deserved, and it wouldn’t until she had figured out the mystery of how and why he had died. But today, she had managed to push all negativity out of her mind, just as she had been taught by her grandmother and father back in the mountains of California, and run free in her true form; a rare, but beautiful black and gray furred fox.

With small legs and feet carrying her swiftly through the forest, Scout ran with wild abandon as a breeze off the nearby body of water blew through her fur; ears back and eyes closed for the briefest of moments. But it was in those few moments of complete freedom that she had felt the cold steel teeth dig into her tiny furred leg, breaking bone, and severing ligaments and tendons, as a sharp cry rang out through the silent overgrown forest of the North East.

Yipping and laying on her side, her small pink tongue hanging out, Scout squirmed slightly, until she realized just how unbearable the pain was when she moved. Help. Me. Through the panting and tears filling her small golden colored eyes, Scout panted for air and relief from the physical pain her body was currently feeling. Please. Don’t let me die here. Alone. Like my brother.

Knowing that Ariana was safe, at least for the most part, Layla had found herself needing her own escape from the town and the people in it. Indy had been tucked away safely in his bed as the teenage werewolf slipped out of the trailer locking the door behind her. Being in the woods already gave her a chance to slip off into a steady jog without having to make a trek through the middle of town. And while she hated being alone most days, sometimes it was nice to just go off on her own and let nature carry her away.

The morning air was cool, but had felt good on Layla’s flushed skin as her body temperature ran higher than the average human’s. Listening to the sounds of birds chirping and animals scurrying along the underbrush had given her the opportunity to just run and not think. However, hearing a loud yip in the distance; one that hurt the animal lover’s heart, caused her to reroute her path to find the source of pain. It was the scent of blood and the whining coming from the small black and gray fox just up ahead, that made her run a little faster, and by the time she reached the animal, she had tears in her eyes.

Kneeling down and seeing the bear trap as the clear culprit to the animal’s pain, Layla ran her hands slowly through it’s fur trying to calm the animal, before making a decision, “I’m so sorry, sweet one. I know this is gonna hurt a lot, but I’m not just going to let you lay here.” Gripping both parts of the bear trap's mouth, the werewolf used all of her strength to rip the trap open, freeing the small fox’s leg.

Scout’s eyes were closing until she heard the sound of something coming through the forest. Another heartbeat. One that was fast. In her mind, she had pictured River coming to save her. Just as he had on many occasions back home in California, when they would run through the vast thicket of redwood trees, brush, and land. But when she heard the voice, her eyes shot open. It was the scent that didn’t match though. This girl smelled like a dog, and it had confused Scout. Maybe it had been all the pain she was in causing her to hallucinate, but one thing was for certain, whoever this woman was, she had just pulled a bear trap off of her tiny leg freeing her from her prison. Running was out of the question though, and she didn’t have it in her to try and flee from the blood loss, injury, and fear. There was also the gratitude and debt she knew she would owe from having this stranger save her, and she was bound to repay it somehow.

“Hey, you’re okay now. I’m gonna pick you up and get some help for you, little one. Please don’t bite me.” Scooping up the animal in her arms, Layla slowly stood up as to not jar the fox and its wounded leg.

Her first thought had been animal control, but she feared they were more likely to put down the animal rather than help it, and she wasn’t exactly on the best terms with Kaden at the moment. Instead, she made her way towards Zinnia’s office. The woman had shown grace when Layla had come to pick up Indy after he had escaped from their home. But today was different. Today she was hoping that this poor, defenseless animal forced into agony at the hands of a hunter’s inhumane trap, would find peace and have a fighting chance.

Blood seeping onto her clothes and arms, Layla maneuvered as best she could, forcing the front door to the office open. There didn’t seem to be anyone around, “Zinnia! Zinnia are you here!? I need your help! There’s an injured fox! She was caught in a bear trap in the woods!” Standing at the front counter holding the animal as still as she could, despite her arms wanting to give out, she had hoped the veterinarian would be there.

Zinnia’s day had been nothing out of the ordinary, nothing like the previous week, at least. Things that had gotten stirred were finally finding their calm, a pattern of days. Zinnia was finally able to throw herself back into her usual routine with little disturbance. She preferred it this way. Though, she had accumulated a select few connections, albeit not on her own terms, that found it in themselves to flounder by her side. It was new, and she wasn’t used to it, but all of which came with the same circumstances; saving that of an animal. She couldn’t say no, couldn’t twitch away from the thought of a forced connection. She had to provide her aid, her service-- something she had promised to creatures who couldn’t provide for themselves. She was their safety net, and she would continue to be such. 

The clinic door clinked, and Zinnia was moving from around the back, just as she had done during Layla’s previous visit. This time, she had no dog in the back room. This time, the red head was bringing her a creature, its paw bloodied and mauled. “What happened?” She asked as she crossed the distance. Alcher’s words trickled into the front of Zinnia’s mind, cousin. But this wasn’t a cousin, this was a family member-- they had the same blood, the same form. This poor creature was a part of her, despite her not knowing its pathways in life. She crossed the distance between herself and Layla and hurriedly took the fox into her arms, careful of its paw. If it bit her, she’d heal. Zinnia rushed it to the back room, setting it onto the table carefully. “Lay still,” Zinnia cooed quietly as she examined the fox’s paw. “How long do you believe it’s been like this?” She asked Layla aloud, barely registering whether or not the younger woman had gone into the examination room with her.

Solace fell over Layla’s form once she laid eyes on Zinnia. She knew the woman was someone that could help the small fox, and the teenager wanted nothing more than to see it saved, “I heard a loud noise in the distance and took off running. When I got there, I saw she was stuck in a bear trap.” She carefully passed the fox off to the woman, quite unsure of what type of creature she was, until she noticed the smell of the fox was similar to that of Zinnia. That conversation could wait for another time.

Without thinking, Layla followed the veterinarian back to the room, where she watched the woman lay the wounded animal on the table, “I don’t think she had been stuck for too long, because of how sudden the noise was. I would’ve heard it sooner. I can promise you that. Can you help her?”

Scout was fading in and out of consciousness as she felt her body being carried through the woods. When she was able to open her eyes once more, she had found herself in the arms of another person. Someone who smelled familiar. Whimpering softly with quivering breath, the small huxian lay at the mercy of this woman’s hands. It was the cold exam room table that alerted her of where she was. A vet or doctor’s office. Somewhere she could trust knowing her own father had come from a medical background as well as herself. But it didn’t ease the pain. She was hyper aware of everything when she was awake and letting out a few low barks had left her weaker than before. You’re like me. Help me. 

“A bear trap? Zinnia asked, an incredulous expression flitting over her features. “I thought--” She bit her tongue. She had made moves to remove all of the traps throughout the woods, or what she could find. There was no stopping a hunter looking for a kill, she supposed. “I can help her, but I’m going to need you to leave. There’s no telling if she has rabies.” Zinnia glanced over her shoulder, “I’m appreciative that you brought her in, and I will let you know how she is tomorrow, okay? Please go wash up.” She nodded at the blood soaked shirt before she turned her attention back to the fox. 

Zinnia continued to assess the injuries to the fox’s leg. She would need to heal it, and heal it fast, otherwise she would more than likely have a break that’d set her up for failure in the woods. It wasn’t like she couldn’t take the fox back to her farm, but if she could help her now, and diminish the pain? Zinnia glanced over her shoulder at Layla, “Let me walk you out.” Just in case the girl decided to linger. She motioned for the younger girl to follow her to the door. “You did well. Go home, change, scrub this off of your skin.” She forced a smile. She needed to help the fox as soon as possible, and the longer that Layla hung around, the worse off the creature would be and more energy it’d take Zinnia to actually help her.

Tears hovered on the brims of Layla’s eyes. She was concerned deeply for the animal, but she knew Zinnia was right. It needed help, and honestly, the teenager had seen enough wounded and dead animals via her parents to last an entire lifetime. Besides, the smell of fresh blood was causing her mouth to water; an unfortunate side effect of being a werewolf, and if she didn’t leave, there was a good chance the fox (and possibly Zinnia) wouldn’t survive, “You’re-you’re right. I just want her to be okay. Promise you’ll call me and let me know how she is?” She followed the woman to the front door without any hesitation. And when she had gotten the answers she needed, she left, feet moving faster than they had earlier with hopes of making it home without anyone seeing the blood on her.

Back in the other room, Scout could feel herself getting woozy from the pain. As a fox, she was small, quick and agile. She could heal herself somewhat quicker, but it usually took time, especially with an injury as bad as this, but at least, if she could shift, she thought that maybe the pain wouldn’t be quite so bad. The healing part on the other hand…

Closing her eyes, Scout pulled what focus she could and let her body begin to shift and mold back into that of a human. Normally, not quite as painful, this time had felt different. But she was back to herself, “Just...I need...something…” Her mind was racing. She was sweating and confused. Did she need to clean the wound first or wrap it? Her training as a paramedic had gone out the door, and instead, she found herself rolling off the table and onto the floor with a hard thud, “Fuck!” At this point it didn’t matter who had heard her. She was just desperate for the pain of a crushed ankle and leg that was dangling, rather than functioning, to go away.

Zinnia nodded at Layla, “I will let you know. Thank you for bringing her in.” Zinnia waited until Layla’s retreating figure was far enough away before she turned on her heel to go back into the examination room. A loud thud sent fear down Zinnia’s spine as she hurried towards the door. Had it gotten scared and jumped down? If it had damaged its paw even more, there was only so much that Zinnia could do for the creature if it was too far gone. 

Just as she turned back down the hallway and to the examination room, she stared wide eyed at a naked woman on the ground. The fox was nowhere to be seen. “Oh--” Zinnia gasped aloud. She held onto the doorframe. This woman was like her. Zinnia stared for a beat of a second too long before she walked into the room, careful yet steady strides. “Stay still. Don’t move.” Zinnia grabbed a towel from underneath the cabinet and draped it over the woman’s frontside before she knelt down next to the brunette. “Don’t move,” She hissed again. She wasn’t going to make a show about how this woman was like her, there was no point. Her foot, just as it had been in her fox form, was still mangled in human form. “It looks like your foot is broken,” Zinnia said aloud as she kept her gaze trained on the woman’s injury. “Because you’re like me, I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt.” She flicked her gaze up to meet the woman’s, “If you cross me, you will pay. Understood?” 

Scout was already trying to slide her way out, but the feeling of bare skin on a cold tile floor wasn’t pleasant and the sound was worse. She didn’t get far though, and instead laid weary eyes on the veterinarian who had found her way back into the room. The woman who had smelled similar to Scout. Laying back in defeat, she weakly embraced the towel, grateful for the cover it had brought to her bare skin, “Don’t move? I don’t think I’m going anywhere on this fucked up thing, Lady.” She looked down at her own mangled foot and dry heaved just a little at the sight of it. Seeing other people’s injuries, she was fine with, but her own, and she was already turning as pale as the ceiling tiles hanging above. Laying onto the floor flat on her back, she replied, “Why would I want to cross my own kind? I’m not...I’m not evil, okay? My intentions are good. And we both know, I’m going to owe you a favor after all is said and done.” It was a lot to say, and it came out slow and with effort, but she had meant every word of it.

Zinnia’s lips twitched at the ‘lady’ comment, but she resisted the urge to make a comment, because what good would it do? It was clear that the woman was in pain. The brunette’s ability to speak was a gentle reminder as to why she preferred working with actual animals, not shifters, like herself. Though she had a duty to heal this woman, they were kin in a way. Alcher’s words came to mind as she observed the brunette’s foot. As she began to speak again, she flicked her gaze over to watch her expression before she pursed her lips. “Yes, and typically that would make sense, but the world is full of class act manipulators.” Zinnia tentatively reached out for the woman’s foot, careful to avoid the bruised parts, and closed her eyes. She channeled as much energy as she could into the bones, and then into the lacerations. Without opening her eyes, she knew that there was a golden hue illuminating her hands, burrowing deep into the woman’s foot. After a minute or so, she released her hold on the girl’s foot and leaned back, exhaustion curling at her fingertips as they twitched. “You should be okay now.” Zinnia rubbed her forehead with the back of her arm, wicking away the beads of sweat that had formed. 

Scout watched Zinnia carefully and with narrowed eyes. In that moment, she knew she was being too trusting. She had heard of nogitsune and the havoc they could wreak, but she was desperate, and she had just wanted the pain to stop, “How do I know you’re not nogitsune? Trust isn’t just a one way street, you know?” Feeling Zinnia place her hands on the mangled foot, Scout winced and moaned in pain, “I don’t think there’s any resetting this thing, if that’s what your plan is.” Tears rolled down her cheeks as she tensed up. However, before she could say anything else, she noticed the bright light coming from the other kitsune’s hands. Her eyes were wide in amazement. It was the first time she had ever encountered a River kitsune, “Kawa…” She watched in a sort of trance, and when all was said and done, she blinked a few times realizing that she was no longer in pain. All that remained was dried blood, “Besides my brother and my family, you’re the only other kitsune, I’ve been around…Thank you.” Her voice was soft and genuine. No fear or stress apparent any longer, “Just let me know when you need me. I’ll be there.” She let her hand fall to her ankle and leg as she had previously felt where the teeth of the bear trap had sliced skin, tendons, muscle, and bone. Now, it looked as if nothing had ever happened. 

Truth be told, Zinnia didn’t know all too much about her lineage. She couldn’t remember her parents-- if she had any, that was. Her life had started well into her teens. Anything before that wasn’t worth mentioning. She knew of nogitsune, though-- had been advised to steer clear. There was a clear separation between herself, and whatever they were capable of. “I could say the same to you, couldn’t I?” Zinnia finally commented back after she released her hold on the woman’s leg. “I suppose I should say the same-- I haven’t run… into anybody else, not like me. You.” It was different, the sense of purpose Zinnia now had. The help she had provided Scout wasn’t bogged down by the idea that she was helping somebody who… potentially, shouldn’t have been assisted in the first place. Zinnia observed the way that Scout pressed her fingers into her skin. “It might still be sore, like a residual injury, but overall, your bone will have fixed itself as well as any bleeding.” Zinnia moved towards the sink after taking her gloves off, scrubbing her hands. “What’d you run into anyways?” She asked, hyper aware that they might have something a little more sinister on their hands.

Zinnia was right. Scout hit a tender part and winced slightly, before shifting her weight around and slowly getting up off of the floor. The sheet was providing her only coverage, and she made sure to wrap it around tightly. With a slight limp, she moved back towards the table, she had previously resided on, and put her weight on it for some relief from the lingering bit of pain, “Honestly, you’re the first for me. I mean, besides my family.” She glanced down at the floor thinking of her brother, her parents, and grandmother. Running headfirst towards their problem as a family hadn’t been the smartest move, but she was determined to bring some resolve to the murder of her brother. Glancing up, she put her troubles aside, “A bear trap. I thought those damn things had been outlawed.” She looked back down to her leg, before letting her eyes fall on Zinnia again, “Have you not had any other victims come in yet?”

Zinnia didn’t remember much about her family, didn’t remember much about who was like her, or who wasn’t. She didn’t remember if she had any siblings, any aunts or uncles. She had pushed the majority of those memories out when she had lost herself. It had taken a bit to come back from whatever had happened, but she was here now, wasn’t she? “I’m wondering how many more of us there are, now. If you’re here, I mean.” It could either be a good, or bad thing. Zinnia knew that the town, supposedly, was crawling with hunters. Some of which whose soul purpose was to take out werewolves, or even vampires, but there was always a price tag on a hide like hers. “A bear trap?” She asked, tilting her head. Not only would that be dangerous for individuals like herself, but regular animals, too. Zinnia made a note to tell Kaden that somebody was putting out traps. Maybe he could investigate as to who it was. Besides, she wanted a reason to check in about Abel. “No, nothing else has come in with the same injury, or claims of a bear trap.” She ducked into an adjacent cabinet and grabbed an extra pair of scrubs she kept before returning to Scout, handing them over. “What part of the woods were you in?”

How many. That was a good question, and one Scout wished she had known the answer to, but no one else in this town evoked the same feelings in her as Zinnia did. The moment she was around her, she could sense something different, “Good question, but so far you’re the only other kitsune I’ve come across. And I’ve encountered a lot of damn people since I’ve been here.” Working at a bar had given her that opportunity, whether or not she had realized it at the time. “Yep. Pretty certain of it, until some rando redhead came along with inhuman strength and freed me. What are they putting in school lunches these days? Hulk juice?” she noticed the scrubs being offered and gladly took them. Dropping the sheet shamelessly, she quickly put them on, “Thanks. Wasn’t really looking forward to doing the walk-of-shame through town covered in blood and a sheet.” She folded the soiled fabric and placed it on the table, “As for the woods...uh, behind the University more so on the side of the river. I hate to say it, but maybe the reason you haven’t had more animals come in could be, because heroic teenagers don’t often roam the woods enough to find them, before their hunter does.” Scout’s own words since shivers down her spine. 

Inhuman strength. Zinnia made a note of that, wondering exactly what kind of inhuman strength they were dealing with. It seemed as though the majority of those that Zinnia had run into weren’t human at all, but something entirely different. She wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing, all things considered. “Beyond the university?” Zinnia pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth, deep in thought. She would need to go investigate. It wasn’t her job, but the last thing she wanted was for another individual to run into the same issue that Scout had found herself in. Any creature, for that matter, may find themselves in a worse position. “I’ll take care of them.” Zinnia looked up to meet Scout’s gaze. What if Scout had been found by somebody other than Layla? What would have happened then? Shifting back to prove she was human could only do so much-- either scare the hunter, or make him realize he had caught more than dinner. “I’m just glad that you were brought here and not somewhere else.” She was glad to know that Layla had had the common sense to do so, and not take Scout to a sanctuary of some kind. “I’ll be keeping in touch,” Zinnia said after a moment. “I believe it’s probably best that we do, all things considered.” She smiled at Scout. “Is there anything that you need? A ride?”

Whatever she had the unfortunate bad luck of stumbling into, Scout didn’t want for anyone or anything else. She was lucky some kid was out in the forest for a run. She was lucky she had found Zinnia, a fellow Kitsune. So much could have gone wrong, but somehow, a guardian angel was watching out for her. It had also given her the head’s up that she needed to be more careful. This town wasn’t anything like the place she had grown up in. The people here were different and seemed more aware that the things that went bump in the night, weren’t just in your head, “If you need backup, just let me know. Name’s Scout, by the way.” Grabbing a pen and random piece of paper from nearby, she scribbled down her number. “If I hear anything I’ll let you know.” She passed the number to Zinnia. “As far as I know, there’s only two of our kind here. You and me, we gotta stick together.” She had come here on a mission, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t take on side quests, and if it meant saving others like her, then it wouldn’t be in vain, “And uh, there’s a lot of things I need, but right now, a ride would be great.”

#chatzy #para: the foxes & the hound #para: layla #para: scout

[warlock-enthusiast]

Waking up slow

The Wayhaven Chronicles

Adam du Mortain x female Detective (in the future)

Detective Kat Kingston faces a murder, Unit Bravo and her mother.

Chapter 2: a second murder makes Kat doubt her abilities as a Detective

AO3 link

Chapter 1 

-----

I was unaware You were lighting flares Now I'm runing scared How did it come to this?

Kat rested her head against the steering wheel.

Another victim.

Another one, she didn’t protect. Garret Hayes lay dead and cold beneath the harsh lights of Verda’s lab, neck mauled and eyes milky. The sight alone made her stomach turn, though having to deliver the news to his mother took her number one spot of upsetting experiences of this day. Kate had started to cry immediately and she’d got down on her knees to pull her close and comfort her.

Even with the help of Adam’s erie, professional abilities, nothing much had come out of questioning the grieving woman afterward. Kat didn’t blame her, but she couldn’t help but wish for even the smallest trace of their killer.

Garret’s death seemed more personal somehow, closer to home than Janet’s, and Kat hated herself for lacking objectivism.

She tried to breathe and to ignore the memory of Tina’s face when suspicion had become reality. How her warm eyes filled with tears, how she firmly pressed her lips together to suppress a sob.

Kat felt exhaustion grip her whole body.

Where to go with this investigation? A vicious murder ran rampage in her town and left almost no evidence but some blood and saliva and more questions than answers. Motives? Profile? A link between the victims?

Her hands shook, as she fumbled for her keys.

Maybe she wasn’t meant to be a Detective. Maybe all of this had been a pipe dream from the beginning or an attempt to impress her mother. She’d started this career to help and to protect and frankly, Kat currently sucked at both. Good grades and tests held no value, if you couldn’t handle a real situation and failed at solving two murders. Especially, if your body crumbled beneath the first symptoms of stress.

“Detective Kingston?” Adam crouched down to look through her window. “It’s late. You need to go home.”

“Eh.” Kat sat up straight, feeling herself blush with shame. “Yes, of course. I was … I.” She stumbled over her own words and saw his green eyes squint against the streetlights.

“You need someone to take you?” Adam’s face remained passive and unreadable and she heard a note of impatience . Somehow his presence only sparked another bout of self-pity and anger towards her lacking abilities concerning this investigation. Frustration bubbled in her throat, ready to erupt.  

Oh look at you, Mister super Agent, always so sure of everything, always so strict, always lacking empathy, always so handsome. Kat bit the inside of her cheeks. “No, of course not. I can handle this.” Adam raised a brow, which clearly stated that he didn’t believe her statement. Not one bit.

“You must focus, Detective Kingston.”

“I know, Agent du Mortain. Good night!” She started her car and drove home.

Home meant her small and messy apartment, with heaps of books stacking up everywhere, and a whole collection of dirty coffee mugs, adorned with clothing and hastily written scribbles. She should really clean up her place (maybe on the weekend), but Kat’s body just longed for a hot shower and sleep.

She indulged it.

Her dreams seemed to be inconsistent and dark and awoke a feeling of dread in her stomach. Kat’s subconscious replayed her failing at her job, pictures of the murder scenes, and threw in some traumatic experiences of her teenage years.

Morning arrived to soon and yet not soon enough.

Kat hit the snooze button and crawled beneath her blankets. Just five minutes of peace, before everything came crashing down around her. Pure bliss. Hidden in her bed, she felt reminded of her childhood and how she’d waited for her mother to come home night after night, wrapped tightly in a blanket, which still smelled of father.

“Ugh.” With five minutes to go, Kat decided on just picking up clothing from the floor and putting her hair in a small bun at the nape of her neck. No makeup today, just bare exhaustion and pure professionalism.

Kat adjusted her driving mirror and caught a glimpse of her pale reflexion. “This is a new day! Be better, be smarter, Kat.”

She needed to solve this and to grant the families and the victims closure.

Douglas seemed to be missing from the frontdesk, probably late or taking a break, and she sighed in relief, because one less person she had to face today.

“Detective Kingston! Good morning, it’s good to see you.” Nate watched her entering the room, but his smile suddenly froze.

The attention of the whole team focussed on her, gazes drifting from her neck to her midsection.

“Eh, your buttons.” Felix, obviously the most helpful agent, pointed at her blouse.

“Oh, shit.” Some buttons had come undone, or probably hadn’t been closed earlier this morning, and offered a view of her sports-bra and too much skin. Kat quickly closed them, making the mistake of meeting Adam’s eyes, who didn’t meet hers, because he stared at said failed buttons.

Her heartbeat sped up and pressed against her rips. The moment stretched and stretched and Adam’s shoulders looked tense.

No no no. Close your stupid buttons!

Neither time nor place to act like this.

You haven’t dated in a while and are probably hormonal and vulnerable.

With her head as red as a ripe tomato, Kat sat down behind her desk. “We have a murder to solve, not witness my wardrobe malfunctions.”

She reached for a pen, just to hold something in her fingers. “But I’m sorry for… that.”

Felix handed her an Agency folder and patted her shoulder.  “No offense taken, Detective Kingston.”

With that, the tension seemed to leave the room. Nate got up to offer her a bit more space, while Mason excused himself for a cigarette break (finally not vanishing in a cloud of smoke any more). Douglas had rolled the whiteboard into her office earlier and she clipped Janet’s and Garret’s pictures at the top. “Lets visualize our evidence.”

Kat carefully wrote down the basic informations beneath their pictures. Names, ages, occupations, social groups, families, a blank space for the lab report.

“So, what do we have?” With her hands on her hips, she knew that it wasn’t much. The nagging feeling that somehow Unit Bravo withhold information got stronger with the passings minutes. Nate and Adam exchanged glances too often, Felix tried to charm away her questions, and Mason did was he was told without any sign of interest.

Maybe she’d call Rebbeca later today, if she got a hold of her.

They discussed for a few hours, slowly going over the evidence again, moving in circles until early afternoon. Kat dialed up Verda three times, but the hospital still hadn’t examined the blood samples. Cutting funding to a necessity would do this.

Another wasted day. More lives on the line.

Kat rubbed her temples, as she began to feel a headache build between her eyes. Her phone vibrated on her desk and she gladly excused herself.

“Bobby. Not the best time.” She’d hoped for a call from Tina or Verda, but no, it had to be him, a whole nother cause of headache. Kat brought some distance between her office and herself, but still managed to watch Unit Bravo at work. Everytime, Kat left there seemed to be some kind of argument? To be a mice in that room now.  

“Is it ever, angel?”

When Kat didn’t reply, he continued talking. “It’s your last chance to give me a statement.” Kat needed a moment to process his words and shook her head in disbelief. “Are you actually threatening me?” “No, of course not. Just gathering information to form a better picture. The people of Wayhaven deserve that.” “I know, but we follow strict guidelines.”

“You sure?” She heard his smile and her suddenly her body turned cold. Kat rubbed her hand against her hip. “Yes, but we can set up an interview in a week.” “Nah, too late.” Bobby chuckled. “Bye, Kat.” “Bye, Bo..:” But he’d already hung up.

Combat training had always been the hardest discipline for her, but she surely would’ve kicked some punching back this very moment. How did he manage to get under her skin so easily? After all those years, Kat still fumbled for words when talking to him.

“Grow up.” Kat whispered beneath her breath. She held her back a bit straighter and returned to her office.

“I’ll head to Verda now. You guys are better equipped than us. Is there a chance that your forensic experts may take a look at their clothing? Look for traces of DNA, hair?” Mason shook his head. “We’re not CSI.”

“Sadly, I don’t really know what you guys are, because no one ever told me exactly. And for all your expertise, nothing is going forward.” Kat’s cheek reddened again. This time, because anger made her irritable.

“Detective Kingston.” Nate crossed the room to stand at her sight. He smelled clean and fresh and rather unobtrusive. “We’ll take the SUV and look at that warehouse again, if it fits with your plan.” “Of course. Call me, if you find anything.” And Kat left the office and Unit Bravo to their own devices.

She shivered from the cold room and put her jacket tighter around her, while sitting at Verda's side. They examined the blood anomalies again and  the traces of saliva, which they'd found on Garret. Nothing new there, but a welcome distraction from being locked in a small office with Unit Bravo and clashing with their personalities. They'd probably thought her a total failure. Overly emotional and not able to get herself dressed in the morning.

In comparison the pathologist was kind and soft and far more bearable.

Verda and she'd quickly become friends, because both of them loved a good book and shared a knack for the science side of police work. Not to mention that he'd made her feel welcome at the station from day one.

"We'll call the hospital tomorrow. All of this takes too long." Standing up, she corrected her reading glasses.

Verda followed suit and switched his pc off. "We'll do that."

"Don't stay up too late, though. We all need our sleep."

"Back to you. I can see your dark circles."

Kat laughed and waved his concern away with a quick eyeroll.

"Bed, here I come."

Her office was blissfully empty as she returned and the sun had already set, so Kat closed her eyes, enjoyed a deep sigh, and collected her things.

She took her phone and opened a chat with Tina.

you free this evening?

- I might be? depends on what you offer

walk, talk, coffee and muffin?

- shit day?

yes.

- mine too. can’t fathom what happened to Garret

- ... - pick me up at 7.

will do.

Something to look forward to then.

#the wayhaven chronicles #wayhaven chronicles #adam du mortain #femdetective #kat kingston #headcanons

[tythis-dielturas]

Hunting Hunters

If Tythis had any say in the matter, he never would have returned to Duskwood so long as he drew breath. 

Such was not the case. 

~

“You can’t go by yourself,” Garrett had said, pacing back and forth on the balcony. 

Tythis had sighed, the sound tired, and defeated. They’d been here before so many times these past six months. “We’ve talked about this before, love. You know you can’t go with me. It isn’t safe. It’s best if I go alone. Someone has to survey the place. Let me do this.”

“I still don’t understand why you are so Light-Damned set on going by yourself! It isn’t safe for you to go. What in the hell do you think you can do by yourself out there? Huh? Fuckin’ fire a few arrows at windows? Snipe a few maids off? You’re just one man Tythis!”

Frustration shot through his veins, white hot. “I”m not some helpless damsel you have to coddle, and rescue Garrett! You have to trust me! You are NOT going with me!”

“I said you aren’t going by yourself!” Garrett had yelled, hands balled into fists, and slamming against his desk. 

Tythis stood there, mouth slack, eyes wide. He watched as Garrett realized what he had done, looked down at his hands in disbelief, and then set his head within his palms as bitter sobs wracked his shoulders. Garrett was a man Tythis knew well, even if they’d only been within each others company for six months. Riley had told him everything about her first love. His temper. His possessive tendencies. His outbursts. His violence. He had filed all that information away, stored it, and let the man prove to him if he had changed. In most ways, Garrett had, in others he hadn’t. In truth, its hard to ignore old habits when one finds themselves at the bottom of an emotional trench so jarringly, and suddenly. Garrett was only doing what he knew how to do: he was angry. However, the hunter himself was tired. Exhausted really. He just wanted Riley back. 

So Tythis stood and listened to the man cry for what felt like ages, when in reality just a few moments had passed. Slowly, tentatively, the hunter approached, and set a gentle hand to Garrett’s shoulder.

“It’s okay,” He had assured softly, “I’ll be okay. You have to trust me.”

~

He sat upon a branch on the outskirts of the houses property, watching the comings, and goings with little more than apathetic curiosity. It was large, looming, tucked away against the mountains, and naturally secluded by deep forest, and looming trees. It made the perfect watch point. 

Three weeks he had been here. Within this tree. Within this forest. Watching. Waiting. Ahnvae, and Ishte were off in the distance, waiting for a command as well, both tucked away in a fox hovel they’d commandeered for themselves. Likely cleaning each other of the blood from their most recent escapade into the forest: a deer trapped in a net. Another hunters kill. Their own prey’s meal. They’d ripped the thing to shreds, leaving hardly anything behind, just as Tythis had wanted. 

He had watched his mark leave the house some few hours ago, riding atop his horse, looking proud as a man who knew he was going to return successful. It brought a smile to Tythis’ lips knowing he wouldn’t. Idly, Tythis puffed at a cigarette, a small mountain of them accumulating in the hovel of the tree trunk next to him. He felt the writhing of the veins against his neck, and chest. His hand came up to scratch at them, remembering so vividly how they once plagued him every waking moment of every day. Now, they only surfaced when he was here, within this forest, this place where he had battled his own demons, and come out victorious. 

While his time within the Void tear of Mac’Aree was poorly remembered, the marks it left on the hunter were deep, and profound. He wore the scars of his collar, and chains proudly, a testament to his endurance, and faith. He had come to this place with Riley, some meager months ago, and the two had seen the foulness cleansed from his body, and soul by the grace of Elune. He never wanted to come back to these forests after that. Yet the mark he chased had abducted his Raven. Taken her. Sequestered her away thinking himself smart, and cunning. He was wrong. 

“Another fuckin’ kill. I swear I’ll get that fuckin’ cat, I don’t even give a shit what fuckin’ knife ear it belongs too.”

Tythis heard the man before he saw him. Holden Grey. Mighty Beast Hunter. Purveyor of Exotic Animals, and Sideshows. Tythis shifted quietly on his perch, watching the man atop his horse meander back towards the house. He was of little note: human, average height, blond hair. He wore mottled leathers, blacks, and grays, and housed a pistol, and a whip upon his belt. He was as average as most humans to the Kaldorei seated above him. 

“I’ll fuckin’ skin that god damn cat myself. Fuckin’ make that knife ear watch me as I do it. Better yet, leave it’s corpse to the crows to pick at for them to find. Bet it belongs to some tender hearted knife eared bitch. Fuckin’ tie her down, and make her watch me fuckin’ kill that god damn saber.” 

Again, Tythis smirked. He had to bite his tongue to stop himself from outwardly chuckling at the man’s sheer indigent rage at their little game. Despite Holden’s self indulgent title of ‘Master Beast Hunter,’ he still had no idea that he himself was being hunted. Every trap he set, Tythis undid. Every animal he captured, Ishte, or Ahnvae devoured. The few men he hired to hunt down the cat returned either mauled, or were found dead. Every time he came, or left the building, Tythis always had eyes on him. 

Something tickled at the back of Tythis’ mind as Holden’s horse meandered closer to the tree he was crouched in. Tythis felt his hand twitch towards the knife on his belt. He could drop down, right as Holden rode beneath the branch, and slit his throat there on the horses saddle. He could send the corpse running back to the house. Chaos would erupt. He could get his Raven back. He could barge in, heroic, and rescue Riley from that house of horrors. 

Tythis felt his fingers wrap around the hilt, and he had to grab his wrist with his opposite hand to stop himself from drawing it. The veins writhed a little harder. their serpentine bodies slithering beneath the skin of his neck. His shoulders shook as rage bubbled in his stomach. He wanted to kill him. He wanted to watch the life drain from his eyes. He wanted it more than he wanted air. 

Yet, Tythis couldn’t. He had suffered at the hands of the Void Lords, and did not lose himself. He had rotted away in a quarantine chamber, and not break. Riley had helped him escape Teldrassil burning, Darkshore being war torn, and still he did not give into the whispers. They had laid him bare in a moonwell, let Elune judge the merit of his soul, and fight what was exorcised out of him. Through it all, he had not faltered. He stayed strong in his faith, in his sense of self, and he would not falter now. Riley needed him to be him. He would be there for her, as she was there for him. 

Idly his hand came up to rub at the obsidian feather she had left behind at the Hide n Seek for him as a gift. She never got to give it to him. Jasper had found the gifts, and given them. The trinkets broke his heart. He still tied it into his hair, regardless of the weight it drew his head down. 

“Adrian! Get out here! I need more fuckin’ men!” Tythis heard Holden scream, face red, and eyes wild. He passed beneath the tree, and meandered with his horse up towards the house none the wiser he was being watched. 

“I’m coming,” Tythis whispered to himself. “I promise, I’ll get you out of there. I’ll be there soon...I promise.”  

Once the man was out of sight, and back into the home, Tythis, and his two saber companions, returned to their task at hand. When Holden would go out again the next morning, he’d find all five of his traps disabled, and a butchered deer.

( @blue-eyedraven​  @wicked-dalliance​  @garrett-lionsroar​ for mentions ) 

#Tythis Diel'Turas #| whiskey in the moonlight | #| boiz being boiz | #current Rp #my writing

[lilacmoon83]

Witness Protection

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 6: Final Stand

David's face was stony, as he stared at the monster across from them. He had a lot of nerve, expecting them to be in the same room with him, let alone break bread.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't arrest you let alone kill you right here on the spot?" David questioned. Leopold smirked.

"I am not wanted for any crimes," the old man refuted.

"That we can prove...yet," David hissed in return. Leopold chuckled.

"There will never be anything to prove, Deputy. I warn you to stop this pursuit to send me to jail," he leered.

"Don't you dare threaten him…" Snow hissed at him.

"Living so far apart is not what I wanted for us at all, Mary. It's time for you to come home. And since your husband has a certain set of skills, I can even offer him a very lucrative position in my security team," Leopold said.

"Hard pass," David refuted.

"I will never put myself or my family under the same roof as you ever again. We want no part of the evil Empire you've built," Mary said with vehemence.

"Your defiance is tiresome, my dear. I encourage you to not force my hand," he warned.

"Stop making threats. This meeting is over," David said, as they stood up and he ushered his wife out. She hurriedly pushed the stroller out and she waited until they rounded the corner for the tears to start.

"We're never going to be safe from him," she sobbed, as he took her in his arms.

"Yes we are...he's not forcing us from our home this time," he assured, as he held her. But she shook her head.

"Oh David...I want to believe that. But you know him. He probably has his goons ready to move in on this town with one phone call," she cried. He wished that he could refute that claim, but he knew she was right.

"You're right...let's go pack a few things and maybe we can be in the wind before he can send them after us," he agreed, as they hurried home.

"Okay sweetheart...let's get you changed into a better outfit for traveling," she cooed, as she put their daughter on the bed, while he was hastily packing the essentials for them and their toddler.

"We're going to go on a trip, sweetheart. But you don't have to worry, because we'll be together," she added, as she finished changing her and then bundled her up again.

"Mama…where are we going? I like it here," Emma whimpered.

"Oh, I know sweetie...I wish it didn't have to be this way. There's a very bad man after us, but you don't have to worry, because mommy and daddy will protect you," she assured, as he sighed. He hated this. He hated that they had to run, because of Leopold again.

"I'm going to confront him. This has to end," he said.

"David...no! He'll have his men kill you!" she cried, as she rushed to his side.

"I can't lose you," she pleaded and he sighed, as he kissed her passionately.

"We may never be able to stop running if we don't take a stand," he reminded. But she shook her head.

"If running means that we're together, then we run," she said, as they grabbed a few bags and prepared to leave. But were stopped dead in their tracks when Leopold appeared in their doorway, along with two of his goons that she recognized as Rivers and Carny.

"I'm afraid your running days are over, my dear," he said.

"I gave you a chance to come home, but now you have forced my hand," he added, as he motioned to the two men, who brandished their weapons and held them on the little family.

"Please don't do this…" Mary Margaret pleaded.

"You have left me no choice," Leopold said, as they were led outside.

"The woods should do, Sir. There's plenty of cliffs we can toss his body off," Rivers said, as he pressed the barrel of his gun against David's head.

"No...please! I'll do anything! Just please don't kill him," Mary Margaret sobbed, as her father grabbed her arm roughly.

"March him toward the woods. Let's get rid of him and then we will return to Seattle where we belong, daughter," he said, as they walked in silence for a while, with the only sound being the crunching leaves beneath their feet and the sounds of Mary Margaret and Emma's sobs.

"Mary Margaret…" David called back to her, as Rivers roughly moved him forward.

"David…" she called, as Emma started crying harder and her father had a vice-like grip on her arm.

"I love you...and I love Emma," he said.

"I love you...father, please don't do this!" she begged.

"I have been patient with you, Mary...but your constant defiance has led to this," he hissed, as he brought her face close to his.

"You are mine, daughter...and it's time you take your place by my side," he growled.

"The hell she is," David growled, as he shoved Rivers away and grabbed her hand, as he took off into the woods. She yelped, as bullets rang out, sailing around them and Emma wailed now in fright. David pulled her along, but then stopped when he found none other than Mayor Fiona Gold in their way, along with more of her father's men.

"I'm afraid that it's the end of the line for this charming little family," she cooed.

"You...you're the reason he knew where to find us, aren't you?" Mary accused. She smiled smugly.

"Sorry dear...but I did my research on you the moment you stepped into my town. Your don't belong here and it's time you leave," she said, as Leopold and the other two caught up to them.

"There's a cliff side nearby. Shoot him and then you can be on your way," she stated, as Rivers and Carny began to march him toward the cliff.

"NO! Please...you can't take him from me!" Mary screamed, as she tore away from her father and hurried after them, but his men blocked her way. Leopold grabbed her arm and she yelped, as he slapped her face.

"You will learn your place, Mary…" he growled, as he held her arms and looked at her.

"Oh yes...you will learn your place," he leered and she spit in his face at that.

"Any final goodbyes...because now is the time," Rivers said, as he aimed the gun at David, as they arrived at the cliff. He would be shot and then his body would fall into the river, probably never to be found.

"The day I met you was the best day of my life. I love you so much...and I love our children," he said, as a few tears slipped down his cheeks.

"You're going to lose your life for me," she sobbed.

"It would have been better if you had never met me," she said. But he shook his head.

"No...my life became complete, because of you. You're worth all this and more, you and our babies," he said tearfully, as she sobbed uncontrollably.

"If I lose my life for love...well, I can think of no better reason to die. I just regret that I won't be there to protect you anymore," he replied.

"I love you...I'll love you for eternity. And I'll find you...I'll find you in our next life or whatever is after this one," she promised. He smiled.

"I know you will...and I'll be waiting for you," he said, as he prepared to take his final breath once he heard the gun cock. But several shots rang out, before David could be shot. Rivers and Carny fell dead to the the ground. The five other goons with them sprayed bullets into the woods from where the sniper shots had come from. David wasted no time and grabbed one of the guns and picked off three more, while holding his weapon on Leopold and Fiona. The last two went down, as Rogers and Weaver emerged from the woods.

"You two really like to wait until the very last minute," David quipped, as he saw that Leopold still had a firm grip on his wife's arm.

"Stay back…" he warned.

"Let her go, you sick bastard," David growled.

"You won't dare shoot me now...not while I have her," Leopold said, as he brandished his own gun.

"Let's go, my dear...our car is waiting," he said, as he started to move away from them. Suddenly...he heard a growling and Mary tore away from him, just as a wolf came out of nowhere and began to maul her father. Mary gasped and turned away from the carnage, as the wolf proceeded to rip him apart.

"It's about time you got here," David said, as he shielded her and Emma from the sight. Graham smirked and whistled, calling the animal back to him.

"Even I noticed when a bunch of goons dressed in black are moving around town," he drawled, as he proceeded to hug them both. Mary gently peeked around her husband and saw that her father was still alive, bloodied and mangled, as he tried to get to his feet. She gasped, as she saw him crawling toward Carny's discarded gun.

"David!" she cried, as he grasped at in a last attempt to shoot her husband, but Weaver was quicker and pumped three bullets into his chest. Leopold fell back and off the cliff side, into the river. She felt herself breathing a sigh of relief at that, as horrible as it was, but considering all the things he was about to do, she decided that she was entitled to that relief.

"It's over, my darling…" he promised, as Rogers hurried over to them.

"Good to see you both are okay," he said, in relief, as he hugged them both.

"It's good to see you too...how's Alice?" Mary asked. He smiled.

"You can see for yourself. She and Roni are back at the diner," he told her, as they watched Graham cuff the Mayor.

"You are under arrest, Mayor Gold," he announced.

"You set this up," she spat at Weaver.

"I knew when I sent them here that you'd spill the secret to Leopold. You both fell for it all, hook, line, and sinker," he said, in a pleased tone.

"Wait...you planned all of this?" David asked incredulously. Rogers snorted.

"Of course you did," he deadpanned.

"Relax...you were never in as much danger as it seemed, but I couldn't let anyone else in on it if it was going to work," he assured.

"Well played, my son…" Fiona complimented.

"The district attorney will have me out in no time, though," she added.

"Wrong mother...I have enough to make sure you go away for life. The whole case is already on the way to Augusta and the police department there will be here in the morning to escort you to prison upstate for trial. I doubt it will go your way," Weaver responded.

"Wait...she's your mother?!" David exclaimed.

"How is that? She looks younger than you," Rogers added.

"Nevermind...let's get this little one and our mother-to-be back to town. Roni is probably pacing a hole in the floor of that little diner," Weaver said, as they followed him, just as his cleanup crew arrived to take care of the bodies. It was mind boggling and surreal, but it was all over now, for good. David and Mary smiled at each other, as they realized there would be no more running in their future. Just happiness and family now that the shadow of her evil father was no longer hanging over them.

"I love you…" she sniffed, as he held her close to his side as they walked. Emma was calm again and falling asleep in her father's arms.

"I love you too, my darling," he whispered, as they shared a tender kiss

"Oh my God...there you are!" Roni cried, as they entered the diner. Mary rushed to her and they shared a tight hug.

"I've missed you," Mary confessed. Roni sniffed.

"I've missed you too," she replied, as Alice ran to her father.

"Papa!" she called, as she toddled to her father and he swept her up.

"Hello starfish," he cooed, as he cuddled her.

"Well, I'm not sure what happened out there, but I sense it was quite an ordeal. I hear our town has been saved though, so dinner is on the house while you tell me the whole story," Granny announced, as they found a large table and sat down together. It felt like family again and she smiled, as Roni took Emma from her, finally meeting her properly for the first time. They sat down together and for the first time since they had left Seattle, Mary and David felt true relief. They were safe now and they were going to stay that way, for the threat hanging over them was lifted at last. Now, they could just simply be a family and in love. She rested her head against his shoulder, as they ate and drank happily with the people they considered family, including their new friends they had made in Storybrooke. This was home now and they would never have to run from it again...

#Snowing #SnowxCharming #Charming family #feat little Emma #Modern AU #Evil Leopold #Roni #Weaver #Rogers #Alice #romance #family #adventure #witness protection

[imagine-camp-camp-blog]

Could you do a story were the reader is a werewolf who is usually self-controlled. Except one night she gets absolutely hungry and attacks Max. //He only gets a few cuts and bruises though// But David manages to drive her off. ((hurting her in the process)) Once the reader is in control. She turns back to normal and gets depressed as well as refuses to be near the two. And at some point David finds a scar where he hurt her and manages to find out the truth? ((Sorry if this is a bit long!))

(I love this, it’s so good. I’ve set the reader as a counselor for this!)

A small voice residing in the back of your head begged, screamed for you to stop, but your body was moving on it’s own. In vision tinted red, you stared hungrily down at the small boy struggling and shouting in your grasp. The forest was silent except for the blood rushing in your ears and the child’s yelling echoing through the trees. Usually you would have just fed on your pray by now, but you couldn’t help hesitating for a reason you couldn’t remember. Just as you parted your maw and revealed your teeth, you felt something strike the back of your head, hard. In your shock, you allowed your meal to slip away. He didn’t look back while he sprinted away, unable to see the reason for your slip up.

Fast as a whip, you were facing your assailant, fangs bared. A familiar looking man stood terrified with a red and silver emergency axe in hand. He took a shaky step forward and tightened his grip. Before he could change his mind, you lunged at him, landing a deep scratch on his arm. He yelped and swung blindly, sticking the axe into your shoulder. A pained cry left you as he yanked it back out. The scent of blood would have reminded you of your hunger had you not been in excruciating pain. You howled and blindly darted back into the underbrush, ripping through the thick woods and sprinting away from camp.

The pads of your feet landed deftly on cold, damp grass as you wearily made your way back to your cabin. If you had to guess, you’d say it was barely five in the morning. The sun had come up, and you had awoken next to the mauled and ravaged bodies of multiple forest animals. Worry was evident on your face. You remembered. You remembered everything you had done, and weren’t sure how you would be able to go back, but you had to. If you didn’t, the campers and counselors would become concerned, or worse, suspicious.

Luckily you had managed to make it back to your cabin unnoticed. Once there you cleaned yourself up, put on a tank top, some shorts, and a sweater, and went immediately to sleep. No restful sleep came to you. Just hazy nightmares of the night before that had you tossing and turning. It felt like a never ending series of bizarre and torturous fever dreams. The sun was near setting by the time you finally woke up. You woke up to voices. For a moment you panicked, you thought that maybe you had somehow changed again and were attacking the campers, but your fears left you as you began to actually listen to what was being said. Your eyes remained closed while you tuned in.

“David, I’m not going to call an ambulance. (Y/N)’s only tired. God knows I would sleep in that long if I could.”

“I know, Gwen, but what if-!” David’s voice cracked. He sounded scared. “What if something’s wrong? What if they were attacked last night too? And now they’re in a coma, or worse?? They won’t wake up, no matter what I do! I’ve tried everything!”

They were talking about you, you realized. The anxiety in David’s voice sent a stab of guilt through your heart. You were the cause for his worries, after all. With a deep breath, you slowly sat up, careful not to put too much weight on your injured shoulder. David’s back was turned to you, so naturally it was Gwen who made eye contact with you first.

“Y’see? I told you. Everything’s alright. I’m gonna go get dinner with the campers now, okay? Bring (Y/N) with you when you’re ready to come with, some of the campers are still kind of shaken up. I think…They’d feel safer with as many counselors around as possible.” She nodded at you, and exited the cabin, headed towards the cafeteria. Oh. You didn’t blame her for the statement because she couldn’t have known it was your fault, but you felt guiltier still to know that you had thoroughly frightened the kids.

“Huh?” David turned to see you with opened eyes for the first time in hours, and lit up immediately. “(Y/N)! You’re awake! Oh, thank God you’re okay!” He was hugging you tightly before you even had time to react. He squeezed you firmly and you recoiled, shouting with pain. Unknowingly, he had irritated the wound on your shoulder. The gash opened up again.

Immediately, David was off of you, hand covering his mouth. “Did I hurt you?? A-Are you alright?” He creeped closer to you, hand dropping from his face and reaching towards you. “Are you hurt..? I knew-!” 

David paled, eyes wide. The sleeve of your sweater slowly turned red as fresh blood seeped into it. “Oh my God, (Y/N)! What happened to you?!” He was on his feet and rushing to the bathroom to grab the first aid kit before you could respond. “Let me see it.” He demanded, hands on his hips. With a sigh, you slowly removed your sweater, wincing as you had to peel off the part that was stuck to your wound. The sleeve of your (white) tank top was a deep red, and you looked away, almost ashamed as David gawked and fawned over you. The whole time he took care of you, you couldn’t help but look at the bandages on his arm.

Often times when David is worked up like this, he begins to ramble. Which is exactly what he was doing. Lucky for you, he wasn’t all that bad with first aid, but that didn’t mean it was painless. The thing that actually concerned you, though, was David hesitating for a moment, and going completely silent. This only lasted about two seconds, but afterwards he didn’t speak another word. That made you worry.

You couldn’t understand why he would have just stopped like that. He looked more concentrated than before, brow furrowed and hands skillfully bandaging you. There was another moment of hesitation as he sat back down after putting the kit away. You became filled with anticipation as he opened his mouth to speak.

“(Y/N).” The serious way he said your name made your stomach churn. “How…How did you get that?”

“Oh…” You started, internally cursing for forgetting to come up with a story the night before. “Last night, in the woods…I-”

“Please be honest with me, (Y/N).” His hand gently rested on yours. He recognized that wound, and his suspicions were growing. “Who gave that to you..?” You could see the pleading in his eyes as he waited for a response. 

You attempted to speak again, but he beat you to it, promising something that pulled the guilt and pain and anxiety you were feeling all back up to the surface.

“I won’t be upset.”

Tears pooled in your eyes, and you gripped his hand in your shaking one, pursing your lips.

“David, I’m.. I’m so sorry.. I didn’t want to-” You hiccuped- “I wanted to stop, but I- A-And the campers, I-” A sob shook your body, and you couldn’t continue.

He leaned forward and hugged you tightly, careful of your injury this time. Tears began to form in his eyes as well, but he held them back for your sake. “It’s Okay. It’s..” He paused, taking a deep breath and putting a hand on the back of your head, pulling it to his shoulder.

“It’s okay.”

#Literally Why is it So Hard for Me to Write Something Short: A novel #(a really fucking long novel lol) #cc max #CC Gwen #CC David #CC David X reader #camp camp x reader #Camp camp imagine #Imagine camp camp #camp camp david #camp camp david x reader #blood #cc halloween #imagines

[tran5rightsos]

Red-Tinted Waves

Summary: The boys have a bad time on a cruise

Genre: Survival horror, sci-fi

Relationships: Clemmings, Cashton

Word count: 1408

Warnings: blood and gore

Leave kudos?

Michael chugged from the water bottle Ashton had given him in exchange for a bottle of vodka. His trip to the upstairs lounge had taken longer than he’d expected and he hadn’t been able to get the taps at the bar working.

“Luke’s been gone too long,” Calum commented, eyeing the clock on the wall.

“Maybe he found something interesting.” Ashton didn’t sound convinced by his own theory.

Michael pushed himself off his and Luke’s bed. “I’ll see if I can find him.”

Calum stood too, grabbing his kitchen knife, backpack and box of sliced onion. “I’ll come.”

“Can you check the bridge on the way?” Ashton requested, “For peace of mind?”

“Sure.”

“Hey.” Ashton held his hands out to Calum.

Calum took them and pulled him to his feet for a kiss.

“If you guys don’t come back, I’ll fuck you both up,” Ashton told them.

Michael gave a half hearted smile, taking out a slice of onion each for he and Calum.

Before opening the door, they broke the strips under their noses, inhaling and letting fresh tears spill over. It made it hard to see, but it was the best they had, the only protection they knew worked.

They hadn’t been to the infirmary before, but it was close enough to the kitchens that they didn’t need the maps on their brochures to find it. Hopefully it hadn’t been completely looted yet.

“Dumb cunt probably got lost,” Michael quietly joked as they came to the bridge.

“Probably,” Calum mumbled, peeking in, “All clear.”  

The monitors showed that the ship was still on course, its autopilot taking them home, an automatic emergency protocol that kicked in after most of the crew were killed and stopped clocking in for shifts.

“One week,” Michael read from the slightly blood-spattered display he was looking at.

“Even if we run out of food, we’ll make it,” Calum noted, heading back out, “It’ll be good to stop having to leave our room for supplies.”

When they reached the deck below them, Michael sighed. At least two inches of water covered the floor.

“That’s new,” Calum commented quietly.

“It’ll hear us splashing around in this.”

“If it’s close enough to, we’ll hear it too,” Calum pointed out, taking out another slice of onion and breaking it, before bending down to scoop up some water and taste it.

“Salty?”

Calum shook his head.

“Must be why I couldn’t get the taps upstairs working.”

At least they weren’t sinking.

Michael twisted a piece of onion under his nose, breathing deeply and trying not to theorise about what had been keeping Luke. He needed to cry, not fall apart. As he stepped into the water, he frowned and bent down to get a closer look, hoping he was imagining the red tint.

“Michael,” Calum whispered, lightly smacking his shoulder.

Michael looked where he was pointing, his stomach turning. Halfway down the corridor, a mangled body lay on the floor, dark blood mingling with the water and fanning out towards them.

“It’s not Luke,” Calum assured him.

As much as he wanted to have Calum’s optimism, Michael couldn’t help the dread that crept in. The body hadn’t even begun to smell yet.

“It’s fresh. It’s been here.”

“Do you hear that?” Calum asked.

Michael listened. Somewhere ahead of them, something was faintly splashing in the water.

Careful not to let their feet slosh too much, Michael and Calum approached the body. There wasn’t much left aside from bloody bones, but Luke’s pack wasn’t anywhere to be seen and the shreds of clothing floating around it didn’t match what he’d been wearing this morning. Michael chose to take that as a good sign.

More noises became discernible as they got closer to the kitchens. Michael tried not to think too much about how they were clearly the sounds of tearing flesh beyond letting a few more tears spill over. They clung to the wall opposite the open doors to the kitchens, Calum leaning to peer in as they passed. He gave Michael a look and shook his head before moving on.

Michael tried not to give in to the instinct telling him to just run as he reached the doors. The beast had its scaled back to them, its attention on the body it was devouring. Calum was right, it wasn’t Luke. Just a passenger Michael had met at the pool a week ago. James. As he watched, the beast dug its claws under James’ ribs to scoop out more meat, swishing its tail in sick enjoyment and stirring up the bloody water around it.

The infirmary wasn’t far now. The sounds of the beast slowly faded, eventually being replaced by the unmistakeable sound of Luke’s laboured breathing.

Michael didn’t notice how loud and hurried his footsteps had gotten until Calum grabbed his arm hard and glared at him. They stopped and listened, but the corridor was quiet. Even Luke’s breathing had stopped, hopefully because he was listening too.

Calum approached the door to the infirmary. “Luke?”

“Cal?” Luke replied, his voice strained. They heard him grunt as something scraped against the floor. “Door’s open.”

Michael pushed past Calum to get in, barely glancing at the bloody bed at the other end of the room before his eyes found Luke on the floor, panting as he clutched his waist. Through the rips in his black singlet, bloody white material was visible.

Luke gave a tired grin. "Mikey."

“What happened?” Michael asked, falling to his knees beside him and gently pulling his blood-stained hand away to lift the hem of his singlet.

“Met some people in the kitchens,” Luke panted, “They wanted my laser pistol and we got loud. Beastie heard us.” He whined as Michael lifted away the white rag to examine the wounds, two deep, sickening gashes. “It nicked me, but one of the others stabbed it and I ran while it was busy with them.”

“We found a body on the way,” Calum told him, rummaging around for bandages, “And the beast was eating someone else in the kitchen last we saw.” He crouched beside them with a tray of bandages and supplies.

“That’ll be them.”

Luke pressed a hand to his mouth to mask his moans as Michael and Calum dressed his wounds, not doing the best job of sitting still but Michael couldn’t really fault him for that.

“We should get the supplies while we’re here,” Calum suggested when they were done, stuffing the leftover bandages in his pack.

Michael neatened the collar of Luke’s floral button-up. “Think you can walk?” he asked softly.

Luke nodded. Hopefully his pallor was more a result of stress than the pink water they were sitting in. “You should kiss me better, though,” he suggested.

Michael grinned. “Dumbass.” He leaned in and pressed his lips to Luke’s.

With a weak hand, Luke pulled Michael closer to sit next to him, resting his head on his shoulder.

As they’d agreed early on, Calum only took what they needed, leaving plenty of supplies in case other survivors needed it. If there were others. Michael gave Luke a piece of onion as Calum slung his pack on, making sure there were plenty of fresh tears on their faces before helping Luke to his feet, his arms around their shoulders. Although he was shaky, they managed to get out the door before freezing where they stood.

The beast stared at them, no more than a few meters away and well within mauling distance. It stepped closer, snuffling at Michael’s face. Crying wasn’t hard now, not when all it had to do to get Michael’s head between its teeth was open its mouth and lean forward. Not when it was examining him with those terrifyingly dead eyes. Not when two of his best friends were right here with him and the beast had proven willing and capable of eating non-stop for hours.

Luke’s head slumped forward, his legs going slack, but Michael didn’t try to shake him into consciousness. If this was it, he’d be lucky to not be aware while it happened. The beast sniffed Calum’s face, huffed disgustedly, and pushed past them to investigate the infirmary. Michael and Calum stumbled back, jostling Luke awake. They didn’t wait for the tip of the beast’s tail to disappear inside before hurrying back towards the kitchens, Michael quietly crying in relief.

One week. They only had to do this for one more week.

#my fic #au: waves #i dont think ill do this for chaptered fics #just these shorter ones #unless someone wants the chaptered ones here as well #feel free to request specific fics that you want here #ill make masterposts for the #m

[swfanficbyjz]

SW AU - Fate of the Master Chapter 13

<- Previous Chapter

Anakin stirred, surprised to see Luke asleep huddled against him as though he was cold. He remembered that feeling well when he'd first left the desert planet to cooler climates. He reached to the side and grabbed a blanket to throw over him. He'd been scared when Padmé had first told him she was pregnant. He had never considered being a father. He'd been living his life with the assumption that it could never happen. They had both been in too precarious of situations to risk it. But it had happened anyways. And the moment she'd told him, he had felt his whole world start unraveling.

As he gazed down at Luke, now, and then to Leia asleep in the bed nearby, he wondered what he'd been so afraid of. His main concern now was wondering what kind of life he could offer them. He had no home, no career, no stability. He'd told Bail that if Leia wanted to stay with him and Breha that was fine. He wouldn't force her to come live with him wherever he ended up. But Luke was a different story. His aunt and uncle must be worried sick about him, there'd been too much going on since they'd left Tatooine to work in getting a message to them to tell them he was safe. And now that Luke had found his twin, he didn't want to stray too far from her. Their bond was so strong already, it would be difficult to separate them again. Bail had offered to take the boy in too. But Luke had said he wanted to stay with Anakin and Ahsoka, as long as it meant not being too far from his sister. Anakin had no idea how they were going to work that out. He planned to talk it over with Ahsoka in the morning. Obi wan had left with Kanan and Ezra to help out the other two systems that had been hit by this attack. They'd agreed the rest of them would join them later.

Anakin liked the feel of Luke curled up into him, but he'd been worried about Ahsoka all evening and wanted to go check on her. Ever since the gray Jedi talk, she'd seemed a little peakish, like something they discussed had really bothered her. It was a lot to take in, but what he'd felt coming off of her was the force equivalent to hyperventilating.

She'd done so much in the effort to protect him. Was finding out it had been foretold all that scary? Or was it something else entirely? He'd sensed there was more to the dreams she'd mentioned, but she had refused to tell it. What could it be?

He tried to shift a bit so that Luke would lean the other way, and eventually he managed to get up. He put another blanket over him and then slipped out of the room trying not to disturb anyone.

Anakin froze in the doorway of Ahsoka's room. The bed was made, the hospital gown was neatly folded on the edge, with the robe she'd been wearing next to it. She was gone, and so were her clothes and her lightsabers. He hadn't thought she'd been upset enough to run away. What was going on?

He turned to run down the hallway only to almost trip over a little blue and white astromech droid. "Artoo!" The droid beeped back at him. "Do you know where Ahsoka went?" R2 turned on his projector in the quiet hallway of the hospital wing.

"If you're watching this," the holoimage of Ahsoka said, "you've probably noticed I'm gone. But don't worry about me, Anakin. There's something I have to do on my own. Questions that need answering. I'm not abandoning you, I promise. I'll be back. But until then, trust yourself, you'll be alright. I love you." The image flickered out.

Anakin crouched down in front of the droid as if staring into its ocular sensors would reveal where Ahsoka had gone. "Could you play it again?" He asked R2D2. The droid replayed the recording and Anakin felt tears in his eyes. She'd told him that she loved him, but she'd left without saying anything. Had she felt like she didn't belong in his life now that he had two kids? It had been hard to admit all the stuff about Padmé, afraid that she'd be hurt. But Ahsoka had taken it as though it hadn't phased her. She'd always known, she had claimed. And she'd purposely held back her own feelings for his sake. Was she doing that again?

He knew Ahsoka better than he knew anyone. She'd always worn her emotions on her sleeve. When she was struggling to understand something, she wouldn't hesitate to ask. She'd seek advice when she needed. And through it all, he had trusted her completely. Believing that he knew her soul.

But something had changed in her since she'd left the temple all those years ago. He'd first noticed it when she'd come to him seeking help to restore Mandalore and end Maul's chaotic rule there.

He hadn't known what it meant. And he hadn't had time to find out. Because shortly after they'd gathered the troops to go, he'd gotten the call that the chancellor had been kidnapped. He'd been forced to leave her to fight Maul alone. She'd watched him from the open blast door of the gunship as it had lifted off. Something in her expression... as the memory stirred it reminded him of his first op as general, leading a squadron as it left Coruscant. He'd stared out the transparisteel glass of the battle ship as though he'd never see it again. He'd left countless times before, but for some reason that day, he had felt as though nothing would ever be the same again. He'd been partially right, of course, everything had changed. In spite of returning time and time again. Ahsoka had been there that day too. Standing by his side feeling the fear and pain coming off of him in waves. She'd stuck it out with him anyways.

Had she known when she left on that mission to Mandalore that things would be changing again? As the memory of the expression on her face washed over him, he felt a spear of ice hit his heart. He shivered remembering the cold that had consumed him after that. He'd never put two and two together, but now that he thought about it... there had been something so final about that goodbye. This wasn't another one of those, was it?

"I don't suppose she told you where she was going?" Anakin asked the little droid. R2 responded that it didn't know then beeped sadly. "I know, buddy, I'm going to miss her too."

---

Shili was controlled by the empire now. The space ports were locked down, she'd had to mask the code of her ship so it wouldn't be detected. As she flew low, relying on scanners to keep her out of range, she was disheartened by the industrialization of the planet. It had once been a beautiful place, but as usual, the empire had swooped in and stripped it bare; leaving it ruined for the natives. Ahsoka guided her ship away from the villages, especially the sectors the empire occupied and landed in the early evening near the tree line on the far edge of the plains. From what she'd been able to see from the air, there was likely a curfew and she wouldn't be noticed as long as she stayed away from the populated areas.

It was weird to return to her home planet; it was only the second time she'd been here since she'd left to become a Jedi. Her people were tribal, but she walked a totally different path. It wasn't exactly rare for Togruta to be force sensitive; after all they were a deeply spiritual people connected very strongly to nature and the energy of the universe; the force. It wasn't typical for her people to wander through the galaxy, so unless a Jedi had reason, like a conflict, to come to their planet... many Togruta force wielders were unknown. There had been only a handful of them to have been discovered in the last century. Even less that could survive the solitary life of a Jedi. Her people weren't meant to be loners. They thrived in groups, and watching out for each other.

She glanced in the direction of the nearest village. Did her parents miss her? If they were still alive, would they want to see her? Would they even recognize her? Would she recognize them? To the Togrutan people, being discovered by the Jedi was an incredible honor. So much so, they would gladly give up their children for life to hold the honor that they'd given birth to a force sensitive child. It was an easy weakness to exploit and one that had almost cost her life. The other child had not been as lucky.

She often told people that she had no memories of her life before the temple, but that wasn't true. Some of them, she was sure she'd never forget. Like that day, when this horrible man had stumbled into town. He looked like a Jedi. He talked like a Jedi and he had everyone convinced he was one. Everyone except her. She was too young to know what a Jedi was, but she knew he was lying. Her family and the rest of the tribe had paraded her in front of this man, along with another child; a boy named Sanshe. The man had demanded shows of their abilities, and she had refused. The boy, a year older, loved showing off what he could do. When it was her turn, she'd bit him on the hand and run from the village. Her family had yelled after her; angry, disappointed, unforgiving. She had embarrassed them. She'd run for her life.

She had accidentally stumbled on the man's camp, in her haste to get away. She had smelled his stench all over it. She'd climbed a tree nearby to watch for his return. But she would never forget what she'd witnessed. The man had brought Sanshe back to the camp and forced him to fight a juvenile akul for sport. At the age of 5, that boy never had a chance. It was rare even for adults to beat them; force sensitive or not. She'd had to keep from crying out as she watched him ripped to shreds. The man jeering the whole time. For someone who was born and bred to be a predator, the image of his mangled body had turned even her stomach.

With the akul on the loose and the man still nearby, she'd been forced to stay up in the trees. Quiet as she could be, so neither of them noticed her. Eventually the man had killed the akul and packed up and left, leaving the boys remains.

She'd tried to return to the village after the man had left, but she had disgraced them by not going with the false Jedi and they had turned her away. She'd tried to tell them about what had happened to the boy, why she'd refused to go with the man, but they'd ignored her. From that day on, she was alone. In some ways, she still was.

She put up the hood of her robe, tucking it in so it wouldn't fly off as she burst into a run across the plains. She let the force and memory guide her steps across the familiar landscape. She reached the mountains by nightfall, and wove amongst the rocks up to her secret cave. As she studied the entry, there was no evidence it had been found or disturbed. Unsurprising really, this was a dangerous place for the Togruta to be. It was where the akul liked to hide.  

She effortlessly moved the boulder that disguised the entrance to her hideout and stepped inside. She traced her fingers over the drawings she'd left as a child on the cave walls. She was starting to remember every one. Each of them had been drawn after a dream. And as she walked along, the story they showed progressed. She'd been four when she'd drawn these images. Yet everything in her life had played out exactly as they had foretold.

She stopped in front of the drawing of her great trial. Well at least, the great trial of the Togruta culture. Your first solo akul kill. She'd been thirteen when Master Shaak Ti had brought her back to Shili to participate in the hunt. Armed only with a spear and a time limit, the children of the villages were released to complete their rite of passage into adulthood; Togruta mature sooner than most species. The rules were simple; find one, kill it, bring back their teeth or don't come back.

In retrospect, it wouldn't have mattered if she'd succeeded or not. She'd already dishonored her family years before. Not even going with master Plo when he'd found her had gained her favor in their eyes again, at least not the eyes of her family. But she'd still tried. If not for them, for herself. She had to prove she was worthy. She'd isolated an akul, but just as she'd been poised and ready, she had stopped. It wasn't injured, it would have been an impressive prize, but she couldn't kill it. It had stared at her with knowing eyes. And then she'd spoken to it. She'd poured her heart out to an animal! A deadly predator that could snap her bones in two in one movement.

But it had just sat there, across from her in the turu-grass. Watching her as if it understood every word she'd said. She had told it about her parents, about the hunt, about how lonely she was, about the Jedi... everything she'd been needing to get off her chest for years. And then it had done the strangest thing. It had walked over to a rock, hit the side of its face hard against it and then dropped 7 teeth from its mouth into her hands.

Her fingers rubbed across the image of the headdress she'd fashioned from the akul's teeth. She'd never told anyone the truth about what had happened. Because she'd returned with the trophy of the hunt, she had passed the trial. It had always been strange to her how after nine years of feeling so lonely, her first real friend had supposedly been the enemy.

Two days after returning from the hunt to the temple, Master Yoda had sent her to Christophsis to meet her new master. Could master Yoda tell that that experience had changed her? Had it had any bearing on the events that followed? Was the akul a symbol for Anakin? The very first person that really saw her? The first one that really listened? The first one that really cared?

After all, Anakin may not have given her teeth in such a dramatic fashion, but he had risked so much throughout the years to keep her safe. The only one to stand by her and defend her when everyone else had turned against her. He had even brought her back to life! And then... he'd become the enemy to everyone but her. Just as the akul were the enemy to the Togruta people.

She glanced to the entry of the cave. In the moonlight sat a large, hairy akul. It's sheen of orange fur reflected the soft light making it look almost ethereal. Its eyes were sharp, ears tucked back, shoulders muscular, rear end lean. Its huge paws had long lethal claws splayed out in four directions. It's snout extended forward just below the eyes. And its mouth sat open revealing seven missing teeth.

She walked over to it and knelt in front of it. It watched her curiously, like it had all those years ago. She threw her arms around its neck. Fully aware that this whole scenario was completely unheard of by her people.

"No," she whispered in its ear. "The only thing I need this time is your presence."

---

"You've done well, child," The familiar voice permeated the air around her as she meditated in the cave.

           "When master Yoda had told me to reach into the force and discover who my master was supposed to be, you're the one that told me to choose Anakin, aren't you?" Ahsoka asked aloud.

           "Yes," the voice whispered

           "Did you know?"

           "Did I know what he'd become? What he would do? Yes."

           "And you still wanted him trained? Wouldn't the galaxy have been better off if the Chosen One had never been found?" Ahsoka tried not to cry, how could she say that? She loved Anakin, she'd loved him from the first time they met. She loved him still, in spite of everything he'd done. She should not be wishing to have never known him.

           "Search your feelings, child. If none of the events had occurred that were set into motion by his discovery, what state would the galaxy be in?"

           "I don't know! But it would have been better than all those deaths! All that suffering!" She cried out, angry at this voice. How could it speak of annihilation so easily? She stared at her hands. There was so much blood on them. To be a survivor, to know that the choices you'd made had helped cause it... She'd lived most of her life as an outcast. She'd spent so much time with the voices in her head. She'd always believed in the goodness of the force. But the force wasn't good. It wasn't evil either. It just was. It dictated all at such horrendous costs. Masquerading as comfort and light and love. Few get to see what a cruel overseer it is. Why'd she have to be one of them?

           "What has to happen to restore balance will happen. We all play our parts. You were chosen to keep the balance, just as those before you." The voice said, without any emotion or acknowledgement of her pain.

           "You're master Qui-Gon, aren't you?" She asked trying to restore her own peace. "You're the one that's been guiding me for years."

           "I am."

           "You told your student to train the Chosen One. And he did as you asked. Why did you need me?"

           "Obi wan, like the majority of the Jedi, interpreted the prophecy of the Chosen One to mean balance in the light. Or he denied the prophecy all together. He could not teach the boy in the dark. To be balance, he must know both sides."

           "So I was needed to make him dark?" She didn't like what the voice was implying.

           "No, he had the darkness before you entered his life. But you could walk the dark with him without being touched by it. Many Jedi fall to the promise of the dark side. It was destiny for the Daughter to give herself to you. In her act, she shielded you with light. You could then enter the dark and bring him back to the middle. All others would have failed."

           "So then the emperor, Sidious, was the one that could walk in the light to lead him down the path to the dark?"

           "He played his role just like the rest." The voice said. She didn't like the sound of that.

           "Why me?"

           "When a predator can lay down their weapon in the face of certain death, only then can they understand how everything is interconnected; how two extremes can find common ground. The Chosen One is but a conduit through which flows both good and evil. You, child, were bred to kill, but when it could have cost you your life, you chose not to. You found middle ground with the sworn enemy of your people. In your great trial, you became a soldier of balance. ”

           Ahsoka stood up so fast, she startled the akul that had been sleeping next to her. It leapt up between her and the cave entrance as though to protect her from danger. But sensing none, it looked at her with confusion.

           “You know he's a person, right? He is more than just a tool to be molded and manipulated and used. And so am I!” Ahsoka yelled into the empty cave, anger rising in her like she’d never known. “I’m tired of all this talk of fate and destiny and prophecies! They only cause insanity! Each living creature should get a say in their own lives! You’re not the ones that have to live with the outcome of these paths. We are! Anakin was, IS, a good man. He loved people deeply, would do anything to protect them. But because of some stupid force designed prophesy, he was seen only as a weapon, a THING to be controlled. He was USED by so many for their own gains. Each one trying to turn him their way. He played his part, he fulfilled your prophecy. And now? Now he has to live the rest of his life with the guilt of what it cost to do that! And that is a burden no one should have to carry!” She was fuming. She meant everything she said, but was it even possible to defy the force?

Next Chapter ->