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green-ville · 2 years ago

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Run Boy Run

Synopsis: Wednesday Addams has had visions of this girl for a month, and she was supposed to die the day they meet. Xavier Thorpe has had dreams of this girl for a month, and she was in serious need of help. Wednesday thought her first semester at Nevermore Academy was fun, but now? The mystery has never been greater. She would not rest until the truth was revealed.

Who is the girl that was supposed to die, and why is she being hunted down by demons?

_____________

Her heart beat heavy in her chest. Her thighs burned with exertion. Her arms pumped at her side.

She heard it behind her which was good. She knew how far away it was.

A fallen tree blocked her path and instead of going around, she planted her palms on the bark, pushed up, and rolled over the top. She landed on her feet and was running again, knowing she had lost another second because the beast that followed her wouldn't have struggled as much as she had.

It landed, the sound of a heavy body hitting leaves and twigs and crunching the earth.

She had lost more than a second, then.

She whirled, hair cutting through the air, and her fingers crossed together. Her thumbs overlapped each other, her pointer and middle fingers as well. The others stayed splayed open, and her magic burned into the air as she shouted, "Mosra!"

The beast hit her shield and she was driven back. Staring into its black eyes, its foaming mouth, its wickedly sharp horns; nightmare worthy. Its claw nails swiped at her shield, her feet dug further into the ground, her biceps burned now too with the exertion to keep up her protection.

It roared at her, the force not pushing her hair back and yet still, it almost felt like there was a ripple in her face.

She needed to think of another spell, but in her moment of need everything she had ever learned had vanished from her head. She was a clear canvas and her panic grew. That panic was her demise.

Another swipe. Her shield broke. He reeled back and his foot nailed her in the chest. The air was knocked out of her, pain flared from her chest, and when she hit the ground, that wasn't the end. She was on a hill now and her body rolled like a log down a mountain. She picked up speed, she didn't spend as often on the ground because she was half bouncing. Every hit was a shutter through her body. It was a never ending torture. Rocks imbedded into her skin. Twigs snapped at her weight. The hard ground offered no comfort with her descent.

Then she hit a tree, her back bending around it, and she finally stopped.

Her hair, the color of ginger root, covered her bloodied, scraped face. Her ribs expanded, shallow in their movements, with her slow breaths. Her bleeding fingers twitched on the ground.

Behind the cloak of her hair, blue eyes opened, light and tired. The world blurred to her, stabilizing only after locking onto the beast that neared her. Getting closer. Coming to finish its hunt. To take her away.

Her finger twitched more. Her cracked lips, exposing red stained teeth, began to move, a whisper escaping.

A cough racked her body, her eyes watered at the white hot pain that shot through her, and her spell work faltered. There was no time to start over, she had to pray it would still be fine.

The beast loomed overhead, its shadow covered her in cold and dark, and its clawed hand raised.

It never did swipe down. Another beast, a werewolf, attacked out of nowhere, sinking its teeth into the demons neck. Their bodies clashed together and momentum took them a distance away – it gave her the time she needed as the sound of snapping jaws and howls filled the air.

The ground cratered and she rolled into a wash of black fog.

Immediately, she knew she wasn't any safer. The ground wasn't stable, she was rolling again, but on a different surface. It was firm, prickled like sandpaper – roof tiles.

She was on a slanted roof.

Her eyes widened, her hair plastered to her bleeding face as rain from a cloud decimated sky poured down on her. The edge neared, she barely latched onto the gutter before her body was swinging over. A cry sobbed out, all her weight held on by her cut hands. The large slice from when the demon had first appeared made itself known again, singing its stinging anger.

She shut her eyes, slowing her breathing, and opened them slowly. She was staring at a brick wall, a shade of dark grey. Her body was still but inside she rattled with nerves. Those nerves manifested when she looked down.

She shut her eyes again, looking up.

A four story drop. She was going to die. After all her efforts, she was still going to die.

A bolt popped, and her eyes flew open again. She stared at the gutter, stared at where the metal was bending under her weight.

The rain filled the gutters already, her fingers were submerged in their cold embrace. There had to be a blockage somewhere – which wasn't important right now. What was important? Getting out of this.

Her muscles bulged, her face stretched with a grimace, and she ended up screaming, trying to pull herself up. Damn her lack of upper body strength! She needed to reach out, she needed to try and climb up, but she felt if she let one of her hands off the gutter, she'd condemn herself. And yet, if she didn't let go of the gutter and put her weight elsewhere, she condemned herself.

Her body clenched up, she steeled her nerves, and another bolt popped off. Her hand shot out, letting go of the gutter to grab onto the tiles. No good. The tiles were slippery despite feeling of sandpaper. There was no place for her to latch onto. She dug her nails in, feeling her stability slip further, and it was her undoing.

Her weight was distributed before by two points of contact. Now, with only one hand, it was too much.

The gutter popped off, away from the roof, as a trap door opened up and a head of dark black hair shot up.

Giavanna screamed, blood curdling and piercing the dark day as she fell. Her arms whirled, her legs kicked, there was no reason for either of those things, but she did it anyway. It felt better than just letting herself drop like deadweight.

And for one final time, her eyes shut, this time with acceptance. She hadn't done it. She hadn't outrun her fate. Her mother. Her father. She had given it her all and still, she wasn't good enough.

She had been destined to die before she was ever born, at least she got 16 years out of it first.

She didn't hit the ground first. It was something softer that broke her fall, but inevitably crumbled under her weight. They went down together, and her head hit the cobblestone.

Rain continued to fall. The clouds only darkened. The rhythmic hitting of the droplets on cobblestone echoed due to the architecture surrounding it.

Wednesday Addams stood on the roof, looking down, dark hair conforming to the contours of her face. Her eyes, blacker than night, locked onto the girl on the ground. Red hair splayed out, a pool of much darker red seeping out beneath her head. Her blouse outlining her figure and mixing with water and blood. Staining the surrounding area pink, not just red anymore. A skirt that stopped above her knees, torn and cut until it looked like it was supposed to be frayed.

Wednesday Addams had been seeing this girl for a month. At first it was just the back of her, but even that was a tell tale sign, the color of her hair her greatest identifier. Then it was just her eyes, light blue, piercing, mischievous.

Then running out of her house, which set on fire as soon as she was a safe distance away. A roar sounding in the distance.

Finally? Running through a forest, danger imminent yet invisible to Wednesday.

Wednesday had been looking forward to another adventure. Nothing said the beginning of her second semester at school quite like a murder mystery.

Only, as she was staring down at the girl on the ground, Wednesday realized she wasn’t dead.

Her brows knit for a second, disappointment creeping around her like Thing when he was lonely, her pierced lips pinching more.

And all the way down on the ground, this was indeed true. Giavanna was not dead, and it was all thanks to the boy beneath her, who had seen her coming just like Wednesday had.

He took in a sharp breath, waking up from his momentary unconsciousness. Pain radiated up, aching from his leg. There was a pressure on him, and when he half sat up, leaning on his elbows, he realized who it was.

His chest rose and fell, rain soaking him, and failure hit him first. There was too much blood for her to be alive. It was everywhere on her, a hideously dark color that contrasted violently with her tan skin and lighter color scheme.

Then he saw that first breath and knew.

The girl from his dreams was alive.

#Wednesday addams #enid sinclair #xavier thorpe #ajax petropolus #bianca barclay #xavier thorpe x reader #nevermore academy #run boy run

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theazkapack · 3 years ago

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The Ceremony

Preparing for a ceremony is… hard.

Ashlen now thinks back on their time with their original pack and wonders how they managed to make it seem so easy, when they struggled to even find a rock that was shaped correctly to hold charcoal. Of course, in their old pack, everyone was born and raised Wild, and followed the Moon Rays to the most minimal detail, having had years to learn how to do it easily. Ashlen pack, instead, was anything but Wild, most if not all having lived with humans for a significant amount of time, with the exception of them and Mosra.

The she-wolf was also Wild, although not from the same territories as them, and they were unsure as to how much she knew about the Naming Ceremony. Ashlen hadn’t been that interested in the Moon Rays' ways, preferring to spend their time sleeping or hunting or scouting, barely interacting with their family, which now they regret, being unsure of how best to do this Ceremony, memories too hazy for them. They knew the Naming Ceremony for Adults, having done one as soon as they had been recognized as an adult in their old family, but they knew the ceremony for pups and wolves was different.

They would have to talk to Mosra, no?

They groaned, and let their face fall against the dirt, huffing annoyed at the leaves that cling to their face. It wasn’t that they didn’t want to talk to Mosra, they really did! It's just… Nobody liked Ashlen a lot here, and it wasn’t their fault! They knew how rude they sometimes came across, plus, the language barrier made it all the worse. They have been wanting to talk to Mosra and Jet, see how they had been adjusting to the pack life, if everything was alright, but Glawn’s siblings had been… an obstacle, so to say. Ashlen will be the first to admit that they don’t like Honsu, but they won’t say anything. They had seen how joyful Glawn had looked like when she had seen her siblings, and Ashlen didn’t want to dampen her mood.

They shook their head and got up, it was best if they didn’t postpone the talking too much, otherwise they would run out of will to do things and would fall back onto the “say nothing, do nothing” mindset once again. Fortunately, Mosra was in the den, having recently returned from a hunt, and they approached hesitantly, waiting for the she-wolf to notice them before saying anything. The other wolf was occupied trying to brush her fur, watching with critical eye the thin and tiny patch of moss she had managed to make grow, before flinching when she noticed Ashlen was nearby.

They tried to ignore the way they felt like curling up at the flinch, they knew Mosra was wary about them. Why did they feel so strongly about it?, and barked softly as a greeting.

“I was wondering if we could talk?” They said, careful to keep their body language soft and non-threatening.

Mosra blinked, confused, probably trying to decipher what they were saying, before nodding and standing up, following Ashlen as they guided the other back to the den, sitting down behind some big rocks to have an idea of privacy.

“I was wondering what you knew about the Naming Ceremony,” They said, waiting for the other to understand it before continuing, “My old pack was very close to the Moon Ray’s ways, but I didn’t pay a lot of attention to it, so I was curious as to what you know.”

“Hmm, we were more restrained, I think? They followed the up north ways, near the sea and snow.”

Ashlen paused, trying to understand. Mosra’s speech was similar to theirs but, it was more silent, although it was understandable, although a bit weird.

Language barriers, they thought drily, nodding.

“The Clouded Moon?” They offered.

“Yes!” Mosra nodded, “Naming ceremonies for tiny?”

“I only knew the name-change Ceremony,” Ashlen said, “I am uncertain how the pup’s Naming Ceremony is different. I remember that for name-change, it was grinded Arnica, but I think the pup’s one was another herb?”

“Black rock,” Mosra said, pausing before extending a paw and drawing on the dirt a waxing moon, and then, a full Moon, “Half for growth and change, Full is life and strength.”

Black rock? They tilted their head, black rock?

“Charcoal?” They said, sighing at the nod Mosra gave, “Alright, then. Is it a full night, no? I remember mine done in Sun, but it was done during the day because it was a counterpart to the original, right?”

“Yeah,” Mosra nodded, “Moon must See, for tiny’s ritual.”

“Alright, alright,” They paused, and then hesitantly offered, “Is there anything in particular you want?”

Mosra blinked, confused.

“I just—My branch was different, and I remember how to say it, but your way’s were different, and I don’t know if you want something in particular or anything, because this is also your pack now, and I want you to feel included.” They rambled, nervous.

Mosra looked at them, and, the best word to describe it?, softened, her body relaxing as she looked at them in appreciation.

“No,” She said, “Nothing special.”

“Alright, I’m uh, thanks for the help.” They said, watching with apprehensive eyes as Mosra nodded and stood up, leaving after giving them a final nod, returning to the side of Jet, the other wolf grinning and nudging her enthusiastically.

Ashlen sighed deeply, and tried to calm their racing hearts This… This was okay, this was going good, yes, this would turn out alright.

---

Gathering the charcoal was easy enough, and while trying to find a good shaped rock took almost an entire day, Ashlen managed to surpass most of the problems.

Mosra had offered to find and dry some moss patches, so the pups could be Named on them instead of the cold floor, so that was one item less to worry about. Unfortunately, now I was left asking and they were not looking forward to it. In the Naming ceremonies, if a pup one supposed to be done, one would have to ask the parents for the names, the names a gift from the parents, and the pack as a whole, to the pups. Which, supposedly, shouldn’t be hard but… these were Glawn’s siblings. How are they supposed to talk to Glawn’s siblings?! All of them hated Ashlen, and as much as it felt rotten to think so, they didn’t think Honsu even knew which pups were hers.

They sighed and tried not to whine, it didn’t do any good to just complain about it. But, they still took their time, trying to gather enough energy to deal with the siblings, before standing up and getting to work.

First things first, Ashlen tracked Glawn down, deciding to use her help so they could talk to the siblings. They specifically needed Clower and Honsu, which was harder than it seemed. Honsu barely spent time in the den, going as far as to prefer spending time outside than even sleeping during the night in the same den as her siblings and pups, which Ashlen didn’t want to say but it rubbed them the wrong way. And Clower was practically Honsu’s shadow, always behind her or Aursa, as if afraid of everything and everyone, which made Ashlen feel a little bad because they should try to help no?, but also annoyed them right now, since it meant Clower was nowhere in sight.

Fortunately, thanks the Stars, Aursa was nearby and told them Clower had recently come back, and was in their den. Ashlen waited outside, while Glawn announced their presence, not wanting to intrude on their packmate’s space. A few moments later the wolf appeared, looking confused, half leaned towards their den, clearly listening in for the moment their pups woke up.

“Hello, I am preparing for the Naming Ceremony and was wondering what names you have chosen for your pups?”

“I have chosen?” Glawn dutifully translated, showing the same confusion Clower had.

“Yes, uhm, in a Naming Ceremony the parents choose the name they wish to give to the pups, since your ancestors can have a Name rule or similar,” Ashlen shrugged, nervous, watching their friend translate.

The siblings talked among themselves for a bit, probably trying to discuss what Name Rule could their family possibly have, before nodding seemingly satisfied, and turning to look at them.

“They say they wish for the gold one to be named Ranica, and the brown one Duars” Glawn told them, and they nodded, thanking Clower for their time and leaving the wolf to go back to their pups.

The duo walked along, Ashlen making a reminder to not forget the names, and searched for Honsu. They managed to find her, when Night had already risen, and Ashlen paused, hesitant, a few meters before the den where the Gold and Red colored wolf had retreated to.

“Can you…” They paused, “Can you ask Honsu for the names? I don’t think she will be happy to see me.”

Glawn opened her mouth, as if to protest, before nodding and sighing, entering the den of her sister, while Ashlen waited outside, a good distance apart so it didn’t seem like they were intruding on the other’s space. The Moon had moved half a sprout, when Glawn reappeared, walking slowly towards the den they shared. Confused, Ashlen followed behind, wanting to ask what happened, but they could sense it was something meant for a private place, not in the shared space the pack had.

Glawn sighed, and curled up, looking almost sad one could say. Ashlen silently sat beside her, and waited, not wanting to press their friend into talking, as family matters were always a fragile thing to talk about.

“She… She doesn’t have names,” She said, at last, lamely.

“No names? Well, we can give her time to think of some if she needs it.” They offered, pausing at the dejected look Glawn had.

“No, she… She doesn’t care,” She admitted, as if in pain, “She told me the names didn’t matter.”

Ashlen reared back, their fur bristling from the shock, as they stared at Glawn.

“What?!” They yelped, “But—But!”

“I mean, our parents named all of us,” She shrugged, lifelessly, “So, she probably doesn’t want to since… you know.”

“But! But your parents named you because you all were siblings!” Ashlen said, shock fading to let apallement and anger start to bleed in, “How—That’s not an excuse!”

Glawn shrugged, and Ashlen burned with righteous anger, almost trembling from how strong it was.

How dare she?! They thought, angry, How dare she be so rude?!

To not name your own children, that type of slight was one to be answered with a fight and no less. They thought of the tiny pups, who stumbled behind their shadow and called happily at their sight, who would nap between their paws when they were resting, and the anger burned all the more brightly. How little did she care, how much contempt could one have against your own kin, to be so indifferent as to rob them of the blessing they deserved? The pups had been strong, had managed to survive their first season, had proven their right to be Known, and this was how she answered?

But maybe, a little voice in the back of their mind whispered, maybe she doesn’t realize the weight of it. She was captive raised, she does not know of the Moon Ray’s ways, what did you expect?

But even so, she shouldn’t do this!

They sighed, body slumping as they curled around Glawn, anger leaving their body and being left with only sadness inside. They couldn’t do anything, anyways, since they knew deep inside if they dared to confront the other, the small illusion of a united pack would fall right before their eyes. And they knew how much Glawn hated the fighting, they couldn’t make her choose between them and her family, sure, they have spent almost a year together but… That compared to the lifetime of living with your family? How could they compare?

Sleep evaded them, as they stared at the Moon hanging in the sky, wishing for this to be more simple, and for life to once again be joyful bliss, instead of this trap-filled path that they were on. The Sun rose, and they watched silently, curled around Glawn, hoping the warmth of their friend could warm the coldness that had nested on their chest. They watched her wake up, and went with their morning routine in silence, accompanying her until she stood at the edge of the pack’s den, where she would leave for her Scouting duties.

“Hey,” They called, having thought it over all morning, “Can you come with me a wind before you leave?”

Glawn nodded, mutely, and they walked back, towards where Jet and Lannel were standing guard, the pups already prancing and tossing around in the rising sun. The pupsitters perked up at their sight, and Jet barked softly in greeting, relaxed and happy to see them.

“Ask them if we can speak to them about the pups.” They said, watching Glawn communicate it to them. And then, hesitantly, “Could you ask them for names for Honsu’s pups?”

Glawn’s eyes widened, and she looked at them, before nodding hesitantly.

“If you wish, you can tell them about your Family’s Name Rule, so they can have an idea of what to name them.”

Glawn nodded, and returned to the conversation, the pupsitters appearing surprised but also touched by the request. They discussed it in low voices, and Ashlen turned their sight to the pups, huffing amusedly at the sight, watching the siblings wrestle around, yipping and barking in laughter as they chased the others around.

“Uhm,” Glawn breathed in, and Ashlen looked at her, heart aching at the sadness that gathered in her face, wishing they could wipe it away, “The sand one is to be Boray, for the Boreales and the Clay-like color of the fur, the red is to be Mushet, for the Mushroom-red of the coat and the Sunset, and the last one is Sharl, for the stars and the shell-colored markings.”

Ashlen nodded, and gave a small bow at the others, “Pass them my thanks?”

She did so, and smiled at them, “They say it was no problem, and they wish the names fit them well.”

“I’m sure they will,” Ashlen assured, and nudged her affectionately on her head, “You’re free to go now, thanks Glawn.”

“No problem,” She pauses, and then, in a soft voice she tells them, “Thanks Ashlen.”

They blink, and smile as warmth fills their body from paws to tails.

“Of course, Glawn, they’re pack,” They say, and watch her nod, and leave silently.

Being a lead is hard, they think as they watch the pups play, is hard and exhausting sometimes, but they think they’re doing pretty good.

---

The Moon is gentle, with her bright rays, and Ashlen watches their pack gather around, something like a proud fire resting inside of their chest, beating peacefully along their heartbeat.

The pups are wide-eyed, watching everything around, curious as to why the pack is all here, sitting on the soft dried moss bed that Mosra had found. Everyone is here, Glawn’s family to the left, followed by Jet, and then Lannel and Shivo to their right. Mosra is beside them, claws wet with the weird mix of grinded charcoal and water, as she waits for them to begin, and Glawn is on the other side, ready to translate what they say.

“Today,” They said, trying their best to appear calm and not show the nerves filling them, “We gather before the Moon, the bright witness, to Name the pups of Honsu, bright Chaser, and Clower, Silent Stalker, and make it know that we recognize their Strength and Will, having survived their first season, the hardest of them all, the Winter.”

Glawn’s voice is almost a background noise, as she translates to everyone else, nodding to Mosra, the she-wolf standing up and approaching, the moss that clings to her fur a bright green under the pale moonlight.

“Behold upon them, as know their survival, witness their win,” Mosra advances now, and carefully, starts painting a waxing moon on the pup’s forehead, the kids blinking but letting the older wolf paint their coat, “We wish upon them growth, and fortune, so the Wilderness may love them as it loves us, and may smile on their Fate.”

“And we wish them the strength to change and Adapt to life,” They continue on, watching Mosra draw the full moon on their tiny shoulders, “May the Moon always light their path, may the Moon hear them howl and may the Moon shine their fur with the fortune of untold stories.”

“Rise and Howl, and witness Duars and Ranice, may their Fate outlive us and be as bright as the Sun itself, children of Clower, the Silent Stalker, who never fails to find the food we need to survive.” They glance at the others, giving themself a second to enjoy it before they proceed, “Rise and Howl, and witness Boray, Mushet and Sharl, children of Honsu, Bright Chaser, who never gives up.”

They tilt their head and howl, hearing everyone soon join them, the song they cry out a melody that Ashlen is sure to always hold close to their heart, a melody that sounds like family, like a Pack is meant to be, united and Strong before anything. And then, tiny and shaky, five new voices join their Howl, the pups tilting their heads and Looking at the Moon, giving their voice and joining the Pack’s Song.

The Howl feels as if it lasts forever, and then, it dies down, softly, like a dove perching on a branch. They watch their pack, and grin, happiness filling them inside in a way that makes them feel as if they could float away with the wind in any second.It feels magical, in a way any ceremony for the Moon Ray is, and Ashlen feels so happy that they can share this with their pack, watch them delight at the almost unnatural light of the Moon above their heads, at the way they grin and laugh, their eyes filled with wonder and amazement, a sight Ashlen will forever treasure.

They look at Mosra, and nod, both wild wolves feeling kinship as they watch their captive-raised packmates experience the delight that being a wild Wolf means. Ashlen can taste the change in their mouth, of bitter losses and sweet new opportunities, and they wish this marks a new beginning.

The Moon is bright above, and the pack celebrates the Naming of the pups.

#wolvden #wolvblr #Azka Lore #Azka Snippets #Ashlen #Glawn #Mosra #honsu isnt that of an asshole she is just very much still mourning everyone she knew #and ashlen is just a Wild Wolf so they have very very ingrained the idea of ''being able to survive is the greatest achievement''#wild wolf and captive wolf cultural differences my beloved

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