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bittersculs-blog · 5 years

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open: to all!

She’d spent the evening at the precinct, reviewing her files about the murder, tracing the same notes over and over till the fresh ink almost bled through the paper. NYPD had asked her to come on and consult and even now, a week later, Cait felt like she was stuck staring at the same clues with no give. Only when she finally relented, tucked the Manila folder away into its neatly labeled filing cabinet, did she finally take a look at her watch. 11:08pm.

Perhaps, it was time to head home for the evening.

But as soon as Caitlin stepped into the New York night, her plans changed. She suddenly felt wide awake. She didn’t want to head home to sleep, she wanted a run or something. She was a night owl… and technically an early riser too, which essentially amounted to her never sleeping - but that was neither here nor there. She was awake now. A walk around the city then. Cait settled into her leather jacket, made company with one of her cigarettes and took to looking at the night sky that stretched above her, deep, velvet, and black. She left her motorcycle parked at the precinct; they knew her well enough at this point that they wouldn’t tow her. Cold air patted her cheeks as she strolled. She found herself drawn to the soft buzzing neon glow of the lights that lined the community pool.

The pool was gated, of course, but that fence was easy enough to hop - too unbothered was she to go find the actual door. She drew closer to the pool’s edge until she worked off one of her boots and stuck her toes in. Ooo - it was a bit chilly, but not as nearly bad as she would have imagined.

You know what would wake her up? You know what would help her think?

Ziiip. The next second, she unzipped her jeans and shedded her jacket; put them all there in a pile on the poolside, till she was just in her button-down shirt and her panties. Swimming hadn’t been anywhere on her to do list but fuck that. She shivered a little, but grinned, feeling mischievous and young, like she was 16 years old once more.

She wandered into the water, snickering at the cold, but pressed on, unafraid. She dove in deep then, remerged only to flip on her back and float through that neon water. Nine of Swords. What would she need to modify a location spell… could she cobble together a new version of one?

She didn’t even realize someone else had walked into the pool area till she heard the crunch of the poolside -

“Hey!” She’d righted herself again. Dunked back under water so that it covered everything but her head.

“It’s a little late to be swimming don’t you think?” She called out. Her tone was about as friendly as she got - which was to say: it was absolutely stoic.

#nightsbound:start #what up to recycling my old underused starters #plz don't match #( -- caitlin godfrey ; devil like me )#( -- para ; my heart and soul were never mine to own )

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bittersculs-blog · 5 years

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I'll be good, I'll be good And I'll love the world, like I should Yeah, I'll be good, I'll be good For all of the time That I never could

My past has tasted bitter For years now So I wield an iron fist Grace is just weakness Or so I've been told I've been cold, I've been merciless But the blood on my hands scares me to death Maybe I'm waking up today

#( just trying to be a better person !!! )#( caitlin godfrey ; devil like me )#( music ; shake it all out and light a cigarette )

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bittersculs-blog · 5 years

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@krypticstcries

Ever since the Strawberry Moon something’s been terribly wrong with her. Her magic, as of late, is like a one of those fourth of July sparklers. It burns bright, fierce, and every now and then it crackles unexpectedly. Something has slipped through the moon that night and Caitlin’s been holding her magic at arm’s length - like it’s a stick of dynamite - ever since.

The Gala is what it is. All eyes are on the Godfrey’s tonight, them being one of the founding families, and there’s nothing Cait hates more than the spotlight. The whole place feels a bit like purgatory too - around every corner is another person that reminds her of the sins of her past. Her wedding ring feels weird on her hand, it’s off her finger for more time than it’s on these days, and she wonders what her hand would feel like without the constant weight of her marriage weighing down on it.

She’s there with someone else that night. ‘I’m taking a friend,’ she tells her husband and can’t really meet his eyes when she says it. Caitlin’s done a good enough job of staying clear of Atlas that night, but when an unexpected shot of magic zips out of her finger and she accidentally sets her sleeve on fire, she realizes she’s going to need his help.

Cait’s quick to put out the small flame in an ice bucket but finds, to her horror, that’s she’s burned a hole right through her dress. Underneath her sleeves, the thin runes carved into her skin peak through. It’s an easy enough spell to fix the dress, but her magic, all twisted and sick, threatens to malfunction once more.

Fuck.

She makes a beeline for him, arm clutched close to her body to keep the mistake hidden. Caitlin loops her arm through his - he’s mid conversation with someone and she apologizes about the fact that she needs to steal her husband for a second. This is, as it turns out, the most physical contact they’ve had in weeks. She waits till she’s out of earshot when she pulls him aside. It feels almost mischievous - like when she used to yank him behind a row of library shelves at Cornell. She wonder if he ever delves about the way their life was, the same way she does. Before tragedy struck.

She also wonders about what excuse (lie) to come with to help explain this one. Her brain works fast. “My sleeve got caught one of the display candles. It’s at an awkward angle and I - can’t quite stitch it up. I - if you could - please.”

She finds it incredibly difficult to say the world ‘help.’ She finds it harder to look him in the eye. And yet, Cait’s ego manages to stay. Her chin, upturned; her gaze steel, as it drills into the floor

#( event: the founder's gala )#( caitlin godfrey ; devil like me )#( para ; my heart and soul were never mine to own )#( atlas leroy ; caitlin godfrey )

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bittersculs-blog · 5 years

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FOUNDER’S GALA OUTFITS:

Caitlin (Hawthorne) Godfrey - Oh so desperately wanted to wear black but was chewed out last year by her aunt for ‘looking too depressing.’ Cait’s trying to look like she belongs with the Godfrey’s this year - seeing as she’s turning over a new leaf and all that. Long sleeves are an ‘always’ for her since the incident, and this dress was - quite honestly - the only gala dress she managed to find that had long sleeves and wasn’t black. She refuses to wear heels though and so settles for some nice flats. The scales of justice necklace is possibly the only part of the outfit she’s actually excited for.

Jasper Leon - Has only two nice suits folks and he’s wearing the more ‘fun’ one tonight! And by more ‘fun’ we mean if you squint it looks kind of blue. Quelle surprise! Jasper, founding family leader, has always looked forward to the Founder’s Gala. He expects himself and the rest of the Leon family to look sharp and keep up appearances.

Melchior Avery - This idiot almost forgot to wear a tie to a black tie event. He managed to grab one on his way to the gala. Of course Mel is wearing a dark red suit, he stopped buying black suits a long time ago. Our resident dragon is looking forward to the Gala and giving money to a good cause. He’s also there on a tinder date (a tinder FIRST date) so the evening promises to at least be eventful.

#( -- event: the founder's gala )#( -- caitlin godfrey ; devil like me )#( -- jasper leon ; seven nation army )#( -- melchior avery ; fast talk )#( -- visage ; every single one's got a story to tell )#( -- visage ; we die alone we'll all die young )#( -- visage ; they say we're born to die young but we're going to find a better way )

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bittersculs-blog · 5 years

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open: to all !

Sleep would take her like that, suddenly, like getting punched in the face and knocking her out almost instantaneously. Her insomnia kept her up most nights, but when exhaustion hit, it hit her like the bullet line. She rarely dreamed anymore, most nights were laced with nightmares.

The gentle prodding caused her to wake it a start. The action tore through whatever nightmares were haunting her that day and flames jumped to her fingers. “What the - shit.” Her surprise was accentuated by a sudden burst of fire magic and Caitlin sat up and swatted at the embers she’d created before they got out of hand.

She looked up at the stranger, and then the state of of her office. Fuck – she probably looked a mess. In front of her there was a half eaten bag of gummy bears. She’s been pouring over another grimoire, taking diligent notes on certain runes and it now lay strewn, partially open and a sentence cut off midway where Caitlin had supposedly fallen asleep. She tried not to look sourly up at the newcomer, really, she didn’t but – ugh. She ran her fingers through her hair once, twice, in an attempt to replace some semblance of order.

Caitlin hated disorder.

She scrubbed one hand over her face before saying with the utmost politeness she could muster:

“I’m sorry for the mess. I had a late night. Cait Hawthrone of Hawthorne Investigations. How can help you? Please take a seat.”

Caitlin unceremoniously used a binder clip to seal the bag of gummy bears. She shoved them into the desk drawer, brushed aside the X of Swords tarot that she kept near her so that she could mull over it, before standing up to shake the other’s hand.

#nightsbound:start #( dont feel the need to match !!! )#( come love my Private Investigator ! )#( my Godfrey Witch Gal! )#( caitlin godfrey ; devil like me )#( para ; my heart and soul were never mine to own )

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bittersculs-blog · 5 years

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@phantsms

She finds herself drawn away from her date from the evening so that she can go grab another drink. She’s wary, remembering her night out with Darius not too long ago, but finds herself asking for a sazerac.

What did it mean, to be a Godfrey witch? Caitlin’s spent the last few weeks trying to find a way back into her family. She is trying her damnest to blend back in. Her wedding ring, back on her finger. A thin smile, back on her face.

She catches Eliot’s eye and raises her fresh drink at him as a cheers. She is, for what it’s worth, incredibly happy to see him. “To tonight, I guess.” She registers the look on his face. “What’s that look for?”

#( event: the founder's gala )#( caitlin godfrey ; devil like me )#( eliot godfrey ; caitlin godfrey )#( para ; my heart and soul were never mine to own )

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bittersculs-blog · 5 years

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give me somewhere to hide, then get the fuck out of my mind psychotica in the mornin’ light

#( oooo strange magic )#( -- caitlin godfrey ; devil like me )#( -- music ; shake it out and light a cigarette )

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bittersculs-blog · 5 years

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𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒸𝒽 𝒶𝓅𝓅 ( stella maeve. cisfemale, she/her, devil like me + rainbow kitten surprise. ) i heard CAITLIN GODFREY singing the other night, though it didn’t sound like english… it’s so admirable that someone who’s only TWENTY-NINE can sing latin so fluently! heard they hang out with those LUX CIRCLE, that must be because they’re a PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR at SELF-EMPLOYED. i always see them going home to BROOKLYN by MOTORCYCLE under the moonlit night.

Like this and I’ll slip into your DMs to plot! Or add me on discord at the_revati#8487

BACKGROUND

[tw: child death, death, dark magic in general]

“Put your faith in science, anything else will only lead you astray.” This is not the first thing Caitlin hears her father say to her but it is certainly the first thing she attributes to him. Caitlin Godfrey-Hawthorne was born in the midnight hour in Piedmont, California one late October. She was a curious minded child and at a young age she found a passion for science. Though Cassandra was the sole child of the Godfrey-Hawthorne household, she knew little about her parents. There seemed to be a certain kind of distance between them. There was her father, stern and scientific. He was a forensic scientist who was overworked and underpaid. And then there was her mother, kind and esoteric, whom Caitlin only knew from the side of a bed. Cassandra passed away when Caitlin was 10, leaving the majority of her life a secret. This included her status as a witch.

Caitlin’s magic started showing itself soon after her mother’s death. The sadness she felt manifested itself through her powers and Caitlin, completely unknowing of just what she was, was terrified. She kept her magic to herself, convinced she was going crazy.

It was chance that about a year or so after her stumbling onto her magic, the Lux Coven, especially the Godfrey family, came knocking. Brennan Godfrey, Cassandra’s brother, showed up on the Godfrey-Hawthorne doorstep in Piedmont, California. Brennan had his sister’s kindness but he and Cassandra differed in that he did not share her distaste for light magic; the very distaste that had led her to dissociate from the coven years ago. Brennan wanted to teach Caitlin about their family’s legacy, to show her what she was capable of - show her that she was capable of great good. In Brennan, Caitlin finally saw an opportunity to gain some answers about her mother and herself. Intent to keep family close, Brennan offered Caitlin the option to come spend every school with the coven.

That’s exactly what happened. Every year till she was 21, Caitlin stayed with the Godfrey side of the family. Every year she fell more in love with magic and less in love with science. It didn’t matter if it was light magic, Caitlin felt a sense of community with the Godfrey’s, something that was a first time for the only child. When she finally graduated with an undergraduate degree in biochemistry like her father, she had no intention of actually using the degree. Caitlin bid her father farewell and moved to New York to become a part of the Godfrey coven.

Caitlin grew close to the Leroy family during this time. She dated the oldest, Jameson, through high school.

When Jameson left for Oregon at 18, Cait stayed in New York to go to Cornell for college. She double majored in Biochem and criminology.

It was at some point, during her undergraduate studies that she found herself dating Jameson’s younger brother, Atlas. The two fell in love and soon got married. He was dedicated to the Church. She found a way to live with that.

Tragedy struck when their first set of twins was still born. A wedge formed between the two.

The Godfrey coven was naturally attuned to light, but New York has its dark corners. Caitlin took up magic with her childhood Jameson that was looking for an apprentice. The young witch took up an apprenticeship without telling any of her family or coven.

Caitlin’s hopes and dreams blinded her to the reality of the situation. She hoped to be a strong witch, one that could catch up to the rest of the coven. She felt behind, having grown up California - away from all this. She dreamed of Jameson and saw the two of them building something new and stronger together. For a few glorious years, Caitlin felt seen.

It was only her hopes and dreams. Jameson had something darker planned.

Jameson needed Caitlin’s bones, see? All 206 of them for this little spell he wanted to try. A thing he’d finally been sitting on and developing for years. When he told her about this spell, he failed to mention how she’d be part of it. It was probably her survival instinct that saved her by the skin of her teeth in the end. They gathered the ingredients and began the steps. Caitlin’s felt the dark magic sweep through her, rattle her bones, maybe even realign a few, and somehow she knew that danger was heading towards her like a freight train.

She escaped, after a fight of course. She managed to get away with her life, a wounded heart, a cursed body and… Jameson’s grimoire.

The young witch ran. Home was her first inclination. But when she arrived, she found she didn’t have it in herself to tell her uncle or her Coven about her own stupidity. She deserved what had happened to her. This was obviously the price of something else replacing her Coven in her mind’s eye. It was betrayal, wasn’t it? It weighed down on her like a great shame. Caitlin felt so stupid for trusting, for loving. She slunk back to her coven tail between her legs.

But something felt wrong. While Caitlin and Jameson hadn’t completed the spell (whatever it was supposed to do), something had nestled within her nonetheless. She flipped through the stolen grimoire searching for answers and found none.

Caitlin has been in New York for a while now. Sure she’s a witch, but that’s not exactly a full time occupation that puts money on the table is it? So in between Caitlin trying to figure out exactly what is wrong with herself - if anything - and mending a failing relationship with her coven, she has taken up a job as a private investigator. It’s an occupation her father would have been proud of.

ABOUT (TL;DR)

Her mother was part of the founding Coven, but she grew up in California away from it

When her mother passed away, she was whisked away to New York to join her mother’s coven - the Lux coven with the Godfrey’s

Caitlin felt out of place in the new state, but felt at home with the Leroys. Dated Jameson through high school. Broke up when he moved to Oregon.

Went to Cornell for undergraduate studies. Met Jameson’s younger brother, Atlas there. They dated. They got married.

Their first set of twins was still born. Cait and Atlas grew apart.

Cait turned more towards dark magic.

Jameson, now back in two, took Cait under his wing as his apprentice.

Jameson had sinister plans. The witch wanted to use her for dark magic, Caitlin barely escaped - and something most definitely went wrong. She’s trying to figure out what’s wrong with her. All she has is the grimoire of the dark witch she escaped from

She’s trying to create a name for herself, away from the Godfrey’s, and has started up a private investigation business. It’s her whole life.

She avoids talking about her stray from the light at all costs

PERSONALITY / OTHER

Hawthorne Investigations is based out of Brooklyn and Caitlin is the sole employee. She, quite literally, lives at work. She’s converted the living area of her one bedroom, one bathroom apartment into an office space. Caitlin, determined to make a new name for herself, away from the Godfrey name, is constantly buried in work. The juxtaposition of her office space and her bedroom space is a perfect representation of the contrast between her professional and social life. Caitlin’s office space is pristine. Her bedroom? A mess.

Caitlin loves to read. While she has a strong taste for the classics, her heart still beats for all things scientific and analytical. Her degree was in biochemistry and a copy of the Scientific American can stop in her tracks.

Caitlin hates New York. She grew up in Piedmont; she has an undeniable passion for the outdoors with little tolerance for an urban sprawl. Caitlin makes an effort to go camping at least once a month. When not dressed for work (where she likes to make it appear that she has at least some semblance of control) she is wearing boots and flannel.

Caitlin is not a heavy drinker because she hates purposefully making her body feel out of her own control. Although, she is a heavy smoker; a bad habit she picked up since moving to New York. Caitlin rolls her own cigarettes. She enjoys the method associated with the gesture and it allows her to be picky with the tobacco she uses. It’s calming and she appreciates the deep irony of assembling something that is slowly killing her.

Caitlin has taken on a lone-wolf personality. She has few friends if any, and so most of her time is spent investing in the relationships she has with her clients. Even though she wants community more than anything, Caitlin is purposely keeping herself at a distance from other people. If there was one phrase guiding her life at the moment it would be: “Trust no one” - for sake of her safety and theirs.

She is an inventor at heart, always trying a new potion or inventing a new spell.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

Exes

Clients

Friends That Make Sure She’s Still Alive

Witch friends

Enemies

Anything in between - give this a like, and we can figure something out!

#nightsbound:intro #( -- caitlin godfrey ; devil like me )

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bittersculs-blog · 5 years

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✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

date: June 16, 2019 - night of a full moon

summary: In which Cait’s magic takes a turn under the light of a full Strawberry Moon, and Something dark crawls into her mind and her magic. ALSO KNOWN AS: reasons not to fuck with dark magic, kids!

tw: injury, blood

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The Strawberry Moon climbed the sky, its pink light shrouding the world in rose. And Caitlin woke in delirious pain.

She couldn’t breathe, as the burning ran up and down her body, sinking deep into every bone. She was lying on a bed of coals and the air swam in front of her, thick as water. She gasped, choked and grabbed her own throat, feeling the fire inside it. Her nails tore at her flesh. She needed to scoop the fire, hot as a dragon’s breath, out. She needed to let it bleed from her.

There was a pink moon in the sky. A Strawberry Moon. It wasn’t her father’s tribe that had named it such, but it was him that told her what the Algonquin’s called it. It was the her mother who’d told her what that meant for her magic, even when Cait was too young to understand what her magic was. ‘The moon is a door, Caitlin,’ She’d say.

Decades later, under the light of that very moon, Cait tried to scream. She tried to move. But her room was silent, her body frozen. The runes she’d placed on her body burned. The fire would wreck her in this bed and there was nothing she could do.

The black magic was going to rip right through her.

No—she tried to fight it back, though she could feel it battering at the walls of her rib cage, could feel its thick, darkness unfurling from her flimsy heart. No—I will not be a slave to you.

She opened her mouth and tried to scream.

She heard her mouth move with Its words before she passed out again.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“The moon is a door, Caitlin.” Her mother says. “There is no other moon so universally beneficial a full moon. It’s the moon which begins the fading of the veils between the three worlds, until the veils are like smoke - to be waved away with a hand. “

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

When Caitlin woke next, she found herself on the floor, covers still tangled around her legs. She’d rolled off her own bed. She was still herself, though, and that was what mattered—she could see through the haze of the pain her human hands, her human fingernails, the bits of dirt underneath them.

The pain licked up and down her spine; the magic coursed viciously through her body. The sigils burned on her and no longer felt like binding barriers.

She only had so much time.

Caitlin kicked with trembling legs at the covers still wrapped like mummy bandages around her body. She crawled to the chair at her desk and gripped at the chair leg with her sweaty hand. The wood began to glow red; she was going to set it on fire if she didn’t move it. She grabbed higher, pulled herself up, grabbed at the curved back of the chair until her feet were flat against the wood floor.

Cait took a shaky step, then another, and then she stumbled with the inertia of the pain out the door of her bedroom. The whole world spun around her.

She was going to die. She was going to die. She was going to die.

And then this thing inside her was going to kill everyone.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“Miss Godfrey, what have you done?”

She stands in the corridor, only thirteen, but she doesn’t look at the older witch.

“This is dark magic.” He says.

“No it isn’t.”

“It��s playing with the rules of life!”

“I built a channel with my magic—a loop—and the energy is transmuted through the loop, nothing is lost and nothing is gained—“ she begins to explain.

“Something is always lost,” he snips at her. “Destroy these at once.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

There was magic to do– magic that would help her.

Cait clung to this thought, as she stumbled her way toward her kitchen. She hit wall after wall, each impact another shock, rattling up her already-rattled insides. But if she could get to her cabinet—if she could get to her potions—her concoctions and experiments —if she could, in enough time, burn another rune on her body to keep the thing inside— maybe. She already had so many, running up and down her arms and down her back and over her ribcage — always the long sleeves - but maybe another —

Magic never failed her before. Even in the darkest of her hours, even when her magic had turned a foul green, it had only ever been to protect her. Her magic was her friend when no one else was.

She just needed her kitchen and her box of tools. She could live.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“You’re just scared of what I can do.” “And you should be too, Miss Godfrey.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Outside her kitchen window, New York’s heart kept beating as it met the first of summer. Caitlin body-slammed her counter and then threw up ash and acid into the sink.

The Strawberry moon’s ancient glow shed light through the window, just enough for her to see the pale pallor of her hand, gripping hard at the edge of the counter. Her vomit sizzled away in the sink, eating through the metal. Smoke rose and curled around Caitlin’s panting form.

But you know, she felt a little bit better.

Cait leaned her head against her arm and for a moment, she was so tired, so dizzy. All she wanted to do was collapse onto the ground and give up. But this wave of peace was temporary. She could already feel the next wave building, and it would bring a torrent of fresh fire, and another round of convulsions.

She reached down into her stomach for her magic. “Help me,” she whispered and then let it burst out of her like a firework.

Every single drawer and door sprang open. The kitchen faucet turned on—the stove too—utensils clattering off their hooks, silverware springing from their beds. She heard a smash, and then another smash, and then another, as her plates and cups catapulted out of their shelves.

Rude, she thought, as her own home turned against her. She tried her best to ignore it - she needed her potion of good health.

Cait lifted her head, staring around at the mess of her kitchen. She found her potions cabinet and her face fell, seeing nearly all the bottles having rolled off their shelves and shattered, too.

“No…No…”

She stepped toward all those bottles, feet crunching against glass and ceramic as she went. She didn’t feel that pain; it was nothing compared to the rest.

She fell to her knees and shifted through the mess. She found half the bottle of her potion of good health, running her finger on the edge of the label, and on one of the sharp edges.

Her finger bloomed with blood. Cait curled her hand around the broken bottle, glass crunching, and let out a sob.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

She’s a little girl with sparks in her hair, pulling her mother’s laughs from the air and hiding them away in her little jar. She tickles her to get more, and she laughs and laughs for her.

Cassandra takes Caitlin on her knee. “Promise me something,” she says to her. “No matter how brilliant you become, you will always keep a jar of laughs on your kitchen shelf. Joy is an essential ingredient to becoming who we are meant to be.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Another wave of spasms had put Cait on her back, writhing around on the broken glass. But it barely mattered. She couldn’t fight against the pain and had no way to stop it—not even a rune and all the black magic in the world would help— so she let the convulsions curl through her, until she vomited again onto the pile of broken potions.

And then Cait got up.

Or this time, it was the thing, rising from inside her.

The strange magic’s strength surged through her, she slapped a bloody hand on the counter and straightened up. She breathed hard: in and out, in and out, in and out. As her eyes closed, she heard—she swore—the steady beating of wings, as it reminded her swelling heart to keep beating.

She crunched her way out of the kitchen and then out onto the fire escape where the Strawberry Moon hung low. It was watching her; she felt it. Its light poured over her bloody form with every step she took. At first, she stepped slowly. She eased her toes onto the first, metal step. But then faster, steps more steady, and then even faster, until she was running away from her house, up the stairs, as though she could flee from her sickness.

But she was fleeing toward the moon.

The moon is a door.

This thing inside her, it gave her the strength and gave her the pain. It roared in her chest. She remembered the first time she’d felt this, exactly a month ago on the last full moon, how the fire had been just as painful as this then—how she had learned to enjoy it, enjoy this thing’s ferocity, this thing’s hunger, this thing’s desire. It had always been a mirror of her own.

She’d remembered joy and why she loved her magic –

Her heart has never beat louder.

Cait climbed over the edge and onto the roof, fell to her knees under the light of the Strawberry Moon. Her hands pressed into the cement. She was probably going to die. And she should fight it, still, but this thing had been the best thing that had ever happened to her.

You’re just scared of what I can do.

‘Just you and me now,’ she whispered to her terrible magic.

Something inside her cracked and all that strangeness Cait had been feeling for the last month, spilled out. And the first time, that something spoke to her. She felt the runes straining on her body, like they were rope she was bound by. Now the the binds were threatening to snap. They didn’t, in the end. She felt the markings hold strong, the thing stayed inside.

There’s a stillness, then, for a while. She stays.

After, who knows how long - some untold amount of time - something ripples through the silence like a pebble dropped.

< Hello. > Cait hears.

‘Hello.’ She thinks to herself.

After a moment, the thing speaks up again. She can feel it, wandering around the space of her body, slithering around her veins like a snake.

< Strawberry Moon, huh? >

She looks up.

< You can smell it in the air, can’t you, Cait?>

She feels her body breathe in deep. ‘Yes’ she thinks when she feels her lungs expand at someone else’s command. She’s not in control of herself. The thing is driving.

She knows. ‘Why.’ She thinks.

She’s always known.

A beat.

< So allow me to introduce myself>

It raises her hand and Caitlin’s fingers point at the round door in the sky.

< I’m the thing that slipped through the moon. >

#( THAT ENDING THOUGH )#( IN WHICH CAIT'S MAGIC GETS WEIRDER )#( and revati stays super extra AS ALWAYS )#( -- caitlin godfrey ; devil like me )#( -- caitlin godfrey ; update )#( -- para ; my heart and soul were never mine to own )

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