Dracula, May 28th:
Here he caught sight of the strange symbols as he opened the envelope, and the dark look came into his face, and his eyes blazed wickedly—"the other is a vile thing..."
Dracula, Sept 25th:
He opened it, and for an instant his face fell. Then he stood up and bowed. "Oh, you so clever woman!" he said.
a quick contrast here in how the opposing sides view shorthand, a message they cannot read:
Dracula is furious, he is cruel; how dare Jonathan withhold information, how dare he think he has any power in his situation, how dare think he have anything beyond what Dracula chooses to give him. He promptly burns the letter, in front of him, to show Jonathan how helpless he is
Van Helsing, in desperate need of this information, and though upset - gracefully accepts this joke, and asks for help. He acts charmingly, he doesn't use his Stern Talking to Women Voice (c) to tell Mina she must not do this, they part as the start of dear friends
145 notes
·
View notes
Take me with you
A/N: I dunno why I wrote this. I dunno if this is supposed to make me feel better or worse but hey, I just wanted to let this out lmao. Also I'm still working on that other fic and that's where I'll be coping hard so enjoy this one (or not asdfkjasd) for now
Tags: Death, Greiving, Coping, JJK spoilers, not proofread so there's that
Word Count: 753
All you see is an empty corridor devoid of any pop of color. All you hear is the soft tap of your shoes against polished wood. The numbness is there, yet you seem to feel everything simultaneously. Your heart felt like it was breaking with each step as if you were trampling over it. You suppress the urge to claw at your chest like it will ease your anxiety. The usual hallway you would pass by every day without any thought felt like it stretched on forever today. You take a right instead of going straight to the classrooms today. This is also different from your daily routine. You continue on your lonely journey through the quiet hallways and reach the end of the hall, where a staircase leads you to the basement where Shoko's lab is located.
With each descent you make, you can feel your resolve crumbling away. Death wasn't a new concept to you, not when you were in the Jujutsu world. Death is a concept that visits every once in a while. It's not a welcome one, but a common picture nonetheless.
You round the corner and see the usual silhouette in the lab coat. Shoko's head was downcast, looking at a lifeless figure on the table. You catch a glimpse of a familiar large hand and take a sharp inhale of breath before steeling your emotions.
"Shoko." Your voice came out like a mere whisper. The woman's shoulder tenses up before turning to you.
"Y/N." She says in acknowledgment of your presence.
"Am I... Is he..." Your words were stuck at the back of your throat. They won't come out. "I'm sorry, I can't—"
"It's alright." She says but shakes her head almost immediately. Yeah, nothing is alright. "I'll be upstairs if you need me." She says as she taps your shoulder lightly. Without her blocking the view, you turn away from the lifeless figure before you. You nod silently, and she makes her way up, leaving you in the cold and silent room.
Inhale. Exhale.
You prepare to face him, slowly turning your head and seeing his hand in your peripheral vision again, only to turn away. You lean an arm against the table where the inanimate body lies silently.
"I can't do this." You plead to nobody in particular, turning your head to the ceiling, focusing your eyes on the light, and fighting against the tears threatening to fall from your eyes. Your breathing hitches, and you slowly reach out a hand towards the hand that lay dormant on the table. It was cold. The usual warm hand that traced circles on the back of your hand was cold. Your other hand reaches to your chest and scrunches the shirt you wore like the movement can stop your heart from hurting. A silent cry escapes your lips as you hold his hand in yours. He usually returns the favor by pulling your hand towards his lips and kissing the back of your hand with a smile, but it is absent now. Your eyes trail over his hand, up to his arms, before finally settling down on his face.
Eyes closed. Body eerily still. His disheveled, blood-soaked hair drooped over his eyelids. He was still the same Satoru you remembered. The strongest, the best, but now he lay here lifeless. You take note of the wounds that covered his body, and even though a white blanket was draped over his body, you could see the gap near his waist.
He's gone.
The fact hit you like a train. The thought alone made you lose control over your emotions. You wailed, letting out a deep-seated cry from within your soul as you threw yourself over to his chest, stone-cold and unmoving.
"Satoru," you whispered his name like a prayer, "Satoru, I can't do this." You tell him as you cup his face with both hands. "At least take me with you, damn it." You chuckle, but there is no life in it. He'd probably chide you if he heard you say that, but you were only met with silence.
"You said you'd come back to me," you scream, "you said you'd win!" You continued to cry as you clung to him for dear life. "Satoru, please..."
Your voice trailed off, and as the room was filled with your cries, you were only met with more silence. You knew Satoru would like you to continue living for his sake, too, but is a life without him worth living?
147 notes
·
View notes