Hello!
I had a question about my favourite part of the demo so far (Kesha pov <3), Do the amulets that they make have any kind of actually magic/power or is it more just a werewolf superstition thing?
Love the IF and keep up the good work!
It's a bit of both. The amulets have some influence on werewolves, but not a nearly as much as one is made to believe. During full moon, amulets can be blessed, but the Moon is mostly a silent observer, it guides them and comforts. It makes its werewolves feel home.
But it cannot heal them, it can't offer material help, it can't offer them strength.
However, because werewolves are so superstitious, the amulets work intrinsically because they believe in them. Just holding one is enough to pacify them or give them the strength they need.
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Eddie flicked his cigarette butt as they stepped inside, immediately knocking into a frozen Mike. He was just about to ask him what the fuck before he realized he was staring straight ahead. Eddie looked past him, heart stopping in his chest at what he saw.
Eddie couldn’t quite process what he was seeing for a second. Because to him, that looked like Billy Hargrove, on top of Steve.
His Steve.
He was punching his Steve in the head over and over again. Steve, who wasn’t moving.
Eddie was in motion before he even knew what was happening, going completely off of instinct. It was almost like it was someone else who was unsheathing the knife from his boot as he strode over. It was someone else who cut Billy's cheek open, nice and deep to make sure it scarred. It was someone else who used his shock at suddenly bleeding from the face to grapple him to the ground.
Apparently he hadn’t lost everything that his Dad had taught him.
But that’s when the instinct stopped, and it was all Eddie again. No excuses. He had his forearm braced against Billy’s throat, letting his weight fall so he couldn’t breathe.
Eddie was sure that he had never been this furious in his entire life when he screamed, “What did you do to him?!”
Billy didn’t answer, how could he? But that didn’t stop Eddie from screaming the question at him again. He was struggling to get up, trying to curse with the little air he had left and that just pissed Eddie off even more. He flipped his knife around, using the handle to slam it into Billy’s nose, way too satisfied at the crunch it made.
But hey, adrenaline does crazy things to a man.
Part of Eddie realizes that he should be afraid. This isn’t like him. Just because he was taught this shit didn’t mean he liked it. Steve was the fighter out of the two of them. He was the one who calmed Steve down, convinced him when to it was worth it to let things go. Not the one to slam a knife handle into someone's already broken nose, just to hear them scream.
But Eddie had never been this angry. He’s never experienced the horror of cold rage, not like this. He’s never wanted to kill someone before.
But for now he can’t remember why slitting Billy’s throat is a bad idea. He can’t remember why he shouldn’t be feeling so satisfied at the fear in his eyes. But before anything else could escalate, he could see movement out of the corner of his eye.
Max was kneeling next to them, hands shaking as she stabbed a needle into Billy’s neck, right before Eddie was suddenly being tackled off of him by three twelve-year olds. It didn’t scream good things that Eddie had to be restrained by children to stop him from letting Billy suffocate, but at least it knocked him out of whatever trance he had been in.
He pushed them all aside to get to Steve, barely even noticing the fact that Max had the nail bat in her hands, yelling something at a nearly unconscious Billy.
He scrambled to be next to Steve, feeling ill at what he saw. His nose was bleeding and his eye was swollen and he wasn’t moving.
He gently shook him, praying that he would open his eyes, “Stevie? Angel? Can you hear me?”
Steve made a small noise, but he didn’t open his eyes, he didn’t even move. Eddie could feel that cold rage seeping in again, only rivaled by how scared he was at the fact that he still wasn't moving.
He was going to kill Billy. He was going to fucking kill him for doing this-
“Another reason we should leave.” Mike hissed out to the others.
Eddie hadn't even realized he was muttering that out loud. He was a fucking mess, a mix of anger and worry and panic. He turned to the others, probably looking just as crazy as he felt, “We have to take him to a hospital.”
The kids all exchanged a look before Max stepped forward. She kneeled down next to Billy, digging into his pockets until she found his keys, turning to the rest of them, “I’ll drive.”
A preview to the next chapter (or the chapter after) of this fic
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Fellow Prisoner Li, Part 6: Bloodbender (Positive)
Read from the beginning || Previous
“When the moon rises,” Hama spoke softly, as they guarded the door of the inn.
Katara eyed the sky above the trees. Evening was coming, but the sun would still be up when Tui fully rose. But it wasn’t night that gave them power: it was the moon. The moon, which wasn’t quite full anymore.
“You’re stronger than I ever was,” her waterbending master said, squeezing her wrist. “And we have to try.”
Fire Nation imprisonment was what they were bound for, if they didn’t try now. Katara had already stared into that fate, and broken its last survivors free.
She stretched out her fingers, slowly. Watched the Fire Nation princess, impatiently pacing across the clearing.
She’d do more than try.
* * *
“A spirit,” the princess repeated, pinching the bridge of her nose. “That kidnaps people. Every full moon.”
“Yes, princess,” one of the guards said. They’d just come from the town.
“Then find me his bones, if you must, but find him,” the princess snapped. She had no patience for this.
Katara would have as much patience as she needed. Just like Hama, in that prison.
Just like the moon, as it sang to her blood. Soon.
* * *
Soon.
* * *
“Princess, we found—”
“There was a cave, we’ve got more people seeing to the rest—”
“Bring him here,” the princess said, belying her own demand by stalking closer to the soldier who was carrying a limp form. Azula’s back was to the inn. The attention of the other soldiers was on the newcomers, and what they carried.
Now.
Azula stopped mid-stride. Jerked, like someone had pulled her strings taut. It took a moment for the soldiers to notice that something was wrong. Took them longer, to identify the source.
Katara didn’t need to stand to do this. She sat on the steps of the inn, and crooked her fingers, and made the princess spin towards her in a pirouette human muscles were not made for.
“Good,” Hama whispered, into her ear.
“You’re going to order them to let us go,” Katara said. “Or this will be the last thing you feel.”
It… looked horrible. Worse than when Hama had her practice, during the full moon, on the chicken-pig that was to be their dinner. They’d butchered it afterwards, and the master had shown her the way the blood vessels had burst and muscles torn where the soft flesh had twisted too hard against bone. Slow movements, Hama had said. Smooth. Like hanging a rag to drip, not like wringing it out.
Unless you want them down, she’d added, and turned her knife away from anatomy and towards making them a stew. Then as fast as you can.
The princess jerked in her hold, as much as she was able. Her torso was free, the soft organs and lungs and heart left alone. Her head, as well. Katara held her by arms and legs, as she’d been taught.
Don’t try for the head unless you want them dead. The brain has a lot of water.
“You dare,” the princess spat.
Katara looked at her. For the first time, she was not at all afraid of the Fire Nation.
“Order them,” she repeated.
“Princess—” said a solider. One of many who were uneasily shifting into stances ready for attack.
“Stand down,” the princess barked. “Let them leave. Kill them if they kill me.”
Katara stayed sitting on the steps, her fingers cramping, meeting the princess’ gaze with her own as Sokka worked to free Appa from the net. As Hama helped the elders into the saddle, one by one. As Sokka politely—Excuse me, I’ll just be taking that, thanks for the find—reclaimed Li.
She couldn’t see their firebender breathing, from here. But she could feel the blood in his veins. She could feel it all around, in every enemy and every friend, pounding against her head. Her fingers twitched involuntarily. The princess grit her teeth against a gasp.
“I’ll just be taking this, too,” Sokka said, scooping the princess up in the same bridal carry he’d just used for Li. “You can tell your Fire Lord to expect our ransom letter.”
“Sokka,” Katara said, between teeth clenched with strain. She couldn’t tell him I can’t do this much longer, because she didn’t know what would happen if the soldiers or princess heard. But she couldn’t, it was… it was too much, and everywhere, and she wasn’t sure for how much longer it would just be the princess.
Pulling water from plants had been easier. She hadn’t cared which ones had wilted.
“Katara,” Sokka said. “It’s free royal hostage.”
The princess went in the saddle. Hama helped Katara up, too. And then they were in the air, and—and she could let go. Relax. Let the only pulse she felt be her own.
She’d done it.
She was crying, and Hama was hugging her, and another elder on her other side was too, and the moon was high above them white and brilliant and she’d done it.
“You’re so strong,” Hama said, holding her tight. “Such a master you’ll make. You’ll never have anything to fear, my child. It’s the world that will fear you. Our beautiful, brave southern bloodbender.”
The princess sat in the back of the cramped saddle, rubbing slowly at her arms. She was watching Katara. Katara couldn’t read her expression, through the tears. And to be honest? She didn’t really care.
She’d done it, she’d done it, and she could have done so much worse.
If the princess didn’t recognize mercy when she saw it, it was only because she was still alive to disagree.
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