#return to water as well?? i just find having a cemetery a bit strange in this case | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

prose-for-hire · 3 years

Text

Life bites

Pairing: Oz x fem!werewolf!reader

Request: Oz? YES PLEASE! how about agirl who's also a werewolf, but sdhe hates her condition and is always shying away from others, that is until our sweet guy finds out and does all he can to help help and... feelings involved ;)

Requested by: Anon

Warning: Discussion and feelings of shame/guilt. Being a werewolf is described as being traumatic for the reader.

You hated the moon. Despised it. Cursed and swore blindly at it whenever you had the chance, or the ability to speak as it rose.

You were a werewolf. Not by choice. Although, you would be hard pressed to find someone who had become a werewolf by choice. You had been bitten one evening, you had been out later than your curfew.

You blamed yourself for being out so late. For looking biteable and easy to take on without a fight. You were devastated when you realised.

When you kept waking up in strange places, your mind spinning with part memories. Snapshots of horrific mutilation and blood. God, there was so much blood. Thick and rusted into your matted fur. Now, in your hair once you returned to your human form.

You were sick of taking showers with the water running red. Having to see it again made you have to relive the carnal massacre your demon side would partake in. Your whole body had wracked with sobs, masked by the shower.

Your family hadn’t understood. Had said your personality had almost changed overnight. That you were so angry and they didn’t understand why. So emotional and insular. You couldn’t dare tell them.

They couldn’t know, couldn’t be subjected to the danger. To the misery that had taken up residence in your chest. So you left home, trying to protect them. Drew into yourself. Trying to hide the shame that you felt. The shame that came along with your identity.

You had isolated yourself, moved to a new place. Sunnydale, it was called. There was a pull in your gut, you had been driving aimlessly and you just knew in your mind, body and soul that you needed to go there. To this town. For whatever reason.

You didn’t usually believe in fate, but you hadn’t believed in werewolves until two months ago so who were you to disbelieve?

You had lost your friends, unable to make new ones. You were more reserved around people, worried that your condition would get worse and become permanent. That you could hurt people. Infect them just by meeting their eyes as they spoke.

You folded in on yourself further, trying to be really small. Not taking up much space in public. You wanted to hide under the radar. You wanted, more than anything, not to be a threat to these innocent people.

You barely left your house, barricading the doors and windows before every full moon. You didn’t know how else to protect the population from yourself. It wasn’t completely effective. Sometimes you woke up in fields again, having broken out of the barricades.

You always woke up to your house having been trashed beyond repair. You had used to clear and replace everything but after the fourth month you had just left it. You still had a bed and a working sofa, so you decided you would be okay. You preferred hurting inanimate objects than living beings. The library fines were worth it, you decided.

You found yourself praying, calling out to every known deity. Trying to bargain with them. Assure that people wouldn’t have to suffer at your hand. You did this every day now.

You had started to frequent a library. It had an occult section. There was quite a large amount on werewolves. You were trying to figure out a way to stop it. A way to understand your condition. To manage it the best that you could.

You usually took all of your books and headed home pretty quickly. And this was what you were doing as you cut across the parking lot to get to your car.

What you didn’t see, as you had been watching your feet as you hurried across the tarmac was a guy. A cute guy at that.

You bumped into him and dropped one of the books you had been clutching to your chest. He had seen you around but you never stuck around long enough for him to strike up a conversation.

“Sorry, here” He picked it up and offered the book, before scanning his eyes across the front of the copy he was handing back. He half smiled at the irony. Werewolves.

“Oh, th-thank you” You stuttered, not accustomed to doing more than speaking to shop clerks when you had no other way out of it.

“Any good?” He asked, gesturing at the book.

“Haven’t read it” You mumbled, before becoming more and more evidently embarrassed. Oz stared, trying to figure something out. He opened his mouth as if to say something but you just nodded your thanks again and awkwardly shuffled to your car.

He watched you speed out of the parking lot, thinking a moment. Before shaking his head and carrying on to the record store that was next to the library. He couldn’t stop thinking about you though. Your demeanour. Your nervousness. He sensed something in you. And now, he couldn’t stop himself from worrying about you, despite not even knowing you.

He asked around, describing you but nobody recognised you. He frowned but he couldn’t forget your startled face. He had identified something in you, a similarity. Or something that spoke to him anyway.

All he knew was that he was supposed to talk to you. But he had more pressing issues himself as the full moon loomed. He had to prepare for his own transformation.

However you did bump into each other again, only this time as werewolves. Both of you had somehow managed to escape from your confines. As if it wasn’t only the moon calling that night. It was the promise of the other. Of that spark you had felt but pushed down when you met him the first time.

The night was fraught, you only had flashes of snarling and horror. Of blood and rage. Of a guiltless carnage that waited for you to awaken in your human form.

The one thing that he could cling to, the only glint of hope in an otherwise dreaded destiny was those eyes. When he woke up, he remembered them. They were the same eyes you had glanced in briefly when you bumped into each other in the parking lot.

He couldn’t stop thinking about you until he found you again. He had waited. Knowing you would probably be bringing your books back. And he was right, he saw you walking towards the library.

You had returned with only one of the several books you had left with and it was half torn up. Deep claw marks meaning that the library was never a free service to you. He knew, his hunch was right. Those eyes, he couldn’t pull his own away.

It had been troubling him, he hadn’t stopped thinking about you. His heart ached for you, he saw how lost you looked. The panic in your eye when anybody came close to you.

“Hey, y/n, right?” He asked but you were trying to rush past him.

“I can’t stay”

“I thought maybe we could hang, there’s a great record store down by-” Oz wanted to speak to you, try to offer a hand. Some support. He had needed it when it was new to him.

“Really, that’s kind, but you don’t understand-” You stopped

“I understand more than you think” He tried to hint, looking at the ground before looking back into your eyes.

“You couldn’t possibly-”

“Full moon. The deer in the cemetery” He barely spoke above a whisper, he never really said much about his own feelings. His own guilt. Especially not to strangers. But he saw the way the shame bit so deep. The way that the only thought that replayed on your mind was horror. And pain.

The animalistic part of you scared you. You were lost. But the man in front of you, though appearing cool and disaffected on the surface – you could almost see into his soul. Through those eyes that shone, you saw him. You really saw him, the same wolf you had met the night prior. The meal you had shared before you ran through the streets. Leaving destruction in your wake.

You nodded. Unable to verbally confirm what you both knew. His words made you choke on a sob. Your hands moving to your face, your shoulders wracked with emotion. Tears welling and then streaming.

A hand slid along your back, soothing you despite him knowing you didn’t feel you deserved it. He saw the good in you. The way you kept going despite the weight around your neck. The heavy burden of guilt upon your back. You carried it around with you everywhere. It weighed you down. The only colour in your otherwise black and white world was red.

“Trust me” he murmured. But you could see that he was being sensitive to you, to the way he knew so intimately that you must be feeling. You nodded, a decision you would thank yourself for down the line.

He brought you back to his place. His tone was soothing and level despite what you were both discussing. You found yourself missing his touch from that slight touch of comfort you had received earlier. It was the most contact you had in such a long time.

When you were in his home, he spoke to you, explaining ways to cope. About letting people support you which was something he had always struggled with. He even mentioned things that he had researched and found out himself. About shutting yourself away, which you explained you already did at the expense of your entire house.

He saw you, truly saw you. In a way nobody ever had before. You were more human to him than anyone he had met and you sensed this from him. Together, to the onlooker you could just be a guy and a girl talking. Hanging out without a care in the world.

He shook his head at your admittance, concerned for you. For how wherever you looked in your home you must see the destructive part of your nature. Viewing yourself as a monster before a woman. He could almost feel your emotions as his own. You shakily shared experiences, ones you hadn’t dared to say out loud before. Spoke about other things, less serious.

You weren’t used to company, let alone speaking to people anymore. So that day you had been extremely emotional. Your voice dwindled into a hoarse whisper. But he knew about being quiet. Not having the words. He had been this way. Now he had grown to not mind what people thought.

You met him almost every week after this. Finally beginning to let someone in. You slowly got to know each other. In this time, his feelings for you blossomed. He even began to give you guitar lessons. Writing thoughts and lyrics together. He was giving you a way to express how you felt. You tried your best at it, it was very hard to verbalise how you felt. Which Oz got completely. As time went on, you mostly found yourself slowly looking forwards to this time spent with him.

One evening Oz called you out of the blue. He asked to meet you somewhere and you found yourself feeling something. That he wanted to spend more time with you. You couldn’t place it. But it was as if the pressure that you were so accustomed to was slowly dissipating.

You arrived and Oz showed you into the deserted room. It was a cage. Oz explained that him and his friend Xander had made it. Or, Xander had made it and Oz had claimed that he distanced himself creatively. In case you didn’t like it. It was sturdy and it matched his. So that you could be safe as well as everyone else in Sunnydale.

Your reaction was emotional. Of course you were grateful. This meant something to you. Oz was doing everything he could to tighten his grip on you. To pull you up from drowning in the guilt he was all too familiar with. You ran at him and hugged him. Tears shining in your eyes. You both almost overbalanced at the enthusiasm. He hadn’t expected this. You weren’t even sure where it had come from.

The first glimpse of something akin to hope. That you could carry on. That you could make sure no harm was inflicted by your hand. Or, sizeable canines.

You realised what you had done and pulled away. His complexion was tinged pink but he had embraced you with open arms. Neither of you said anything, but you both laughed a little under your breath. Smiling at the other.

You had never been this visibly happy. Your smile made your face light up. He wanted to see you smile much more often. He was about to tell you this, but Xander skidded in with an enthusiastic description of all the features the cage included. Oz went quiet and you both nodded along as Xander’s voice got more animated.

After a few months, you both agreed to wait out the full moon together. You were spending most of your free time together, discussing your thoughts. Emotions. Just sitting together comfortably. So, it made sense for this to be the next step in your relationship. Your cages were moved into the same abandoned warehouse space together. Sunnydale was full of spooky derelict buildings and people knew not to just wander into the one you had chosen.

You were monitored by his friends who were really very accepting of you. It was nice, being introduced to people that didn’t hate you for what you had gone through. People who would empathise and attempt to understand.

You and Oz had both started to grow closer and closer together. He was an incredibly considerate soul. He would do anything for you and he knew that you had a great affection for him.

He was going to ask you on a date, that wasn’t sitting side by side in a cage for the evening and passing the time that way. But for now, he was happy to spend this time with you.

Another month, another full moon. You and he were together again, looking at each other through the thick bars. You could communicate just through looking at each other now. Nonverbal communication made your silences always comfortable ones.

There was a level of intimacy in how relaxed you could both be together, even in this situation. Even waiting for the night to fall, a time where both of you felt so vulnerable. So concerned that something would go wrong with the cage. That you couldn’t contain it.

You reached for him through the bars wordlessly and he didn’t hesitate to move towards you. His hand stretching between the space. Your hands twisting like vines. Solidifying the nature of your connection. Of your unsaid feelings.

You could get through tonight, as you always did, together.

As your human forms disappeared, the wolves emerged. Pacing your cages. Longing to be together, whining that they couldn’t reach each other. Trying to escape, not just for the hunt. But for the touch of the other. As always happened.

When morning came and you could be unlocked, you went to get brunch together. It was the best part of the month, especially when you were safely caged away and nobody got hurt. You had an entire month stretching before you. You both became incredibly hungry in this period and the morning just appeared to glow with hope.

He had helped you want to live. Changed the bleak landscape of your existence into a sunny life you could actually imagine enjoying. Only with him.

You slid into your booth, the one by the window that you always did. He had helped you so much, but you hadn’t realised how much you had helped him. Today though, on this morning with the early morning sunlight filtering in, he told you. It came from the heart just like those lyrics he wrote so well. The ones he had played for you in those long afternoons you spent alone.

Your eyes shone and your voice was barely audible as you gushed about how much he meant to you. About your mutual adoration. Your words didn’t feel enough. You wanted to express all of these feelings you had for him in the same way he had so easily reeled off from his own heart. He had been nervous to reveal them, but you never would have guessed.

He smiled at the way you had opened up so much since you first met. He slid around the booth the sit beside you. His eyes moved between your eyes and your lips. He was nervous but your adoration for him shone through. You shared a knowing smile.

He leaned in and his lips brushed tenderly against yours. He never wanted to press you for more, just feel his wholehearted emotion. This one action said everything. He wanted you to be his. His girlfriend. You kissed back as his hand slid from your cheek to the back of your skull. Began to tangle softly into your hair. The kiss was so tender and sweet, you near melted into him. Your hand found his resting on the table as your lips moved against the other in such reverence. Your hand clasping his. You eventually reluctantly moved from this kiss. It made you feel like you were flying. As if you were walking on air. It meant hope. It meant him.

“Werewolves in love” He smiled, before landing a brief and incredibly soft kiss to your lips. He then slid back to his side of the booth as the waitress arrived with you food.

Neither of you could help smiling. The corners of his lips tugging into a smile that completely accentuated his features. He glowed. You were grinning across the table from him, unable to believe just how much your life could have changed for the better.

You were never going to be alone anymore. You had each other. You knew each other intimately.

#Oz #Daniel Osbourne #Oz x reader #Oz x you #Oz imagine #btvs #btvs x reader #btvs imagine #btvs x you #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #buffy the vampire slayer imagines #female reader #female #x reader #werewolf #werewolf reader #buffyverse

76 notes · View notes

purplegirlstory · 4 years

Text

Forever

I was clutching onto the grocery bags that occupied both of my hands. I was on my way to my house when I passed one of the cemeteries in our town. You see, there are five cemeteries in our town. Too many cemeteries for a single town, I know.

While passing in front of the gate of the cemetery, I paused and stared at the gate. No one has ever seen him. The dark prince. Some say that he is a handsome immortal man and some say that he has the appearance of a demon. Everyone has their own stories about him, but there was never any proof.

I have lived in this town ever for as far as I could remember, and I have always wanted to meet him. I have always been curious as to how he looked like and what his story.

I break away from my thoughts and proceeded on walking. When I reached my place, I immediately went inside to arrange my groceries, and it took me a few minutes to organize them all. I sat on my couch with a glass of refreshing lemonade on my hands. The image of the cemetery entering my mind again.

People in our town said that if you want to meet the dark prince then the cemetery would be the first place to find this mysterious man, but I did not exactly know which grave it could be. There are five cemeteries in my town, and I need to look for him in each cemetery. You might be wondering why I am very curious about him. It is because we have something in common. We are both capable of using black magic or dark magic. I do not know where I got my powers but the only thing I know is that I was lost and I woke up in this town with no clue as to why I was lost or why am I even in this city. That's it! I need to see him. I need to meet him!

I waited for midnight in front of the gates of Phlegethon, our town’s first cemetery. I waited until all people had gone to their houses. The moment I knew that it was midnight, I decided to enter the gates. There was nothing strange in the cemetery. Tombs everywhere and wilted flowers lying on the ground. I continued walking further into the cemetery until a white mist appeared just a few meters in front of me. I stared at the mist before me until it started to play a scene before me.

A large dog or more like a werewolf was running through the forest. The wolf was running very fast until it bumped into something and was thrown backward. A woman suddenly walked out behind a tree and laughed at the poor wolf. The wolf suddenly turned into a young man and smiled at the woman in front of him. She waved her hand a bit as if she was touching a wall. The young man then walked towards her and hugged her. They held each other’s hand and went deep into the forest, and one by one the trees started to fall.

The mist started to glow brightly and I closed my eyes due to the blinding light of the white mist. I suddenly felt dizzy and I held onto my head.

As I opened my eyes, the mist was gone. I looked around and saw a figure of a young man at the gates of the cemetery thought I could not see his face. He walked away and went to the direction of the next cemetery. I went after him, and I found myself at the gates of Acheron, the second cemetery.

As I arrived, there were no signs of the man that I just saw. I went inside the cemetery to look for him, but he was nowhere to be found. Another white mist appeared in front of me, and it started to play a scenario again.

A woman was standing inside a golden temple with a big shield on her right hand and was pacing back and forth as she listened to the girls in front of her. She looked furious as she listens to the three blind girls standing before her. She threw her shield away when the three blind girls told her about her husband falling in love with a witch and meeting the witch in the forest. Raging with fury, the woman devised a plan to keep her husband to herself and to get rid of the witch.

A man was walking in the forest with a dozen red roses in his hand. He was smiling down at the roses in his hand. His eyes suddenly turned black, and he transformed into a werewolf. The beast looked around and heard a scream in the air. The wolf runs until he reached the house of his lover only to find out that it was already burned down into ashes. Beside the house was his lover who was hanged on a tree. A golden rope wrapped tightly around her neck. Her face turned white and her body was swaying lightly into the air, lifeless.

The white mist turned into black and disappeared. I dropped to my knees holding to head. I feel like my head was being ripped apart. Several memories started to play in my mind, and that's when I realized that the dead girl in the mist was me and the man was Jaehyun, the dark prince, my secret lover.

My head was in throbbing pain and I was breathing heavily. When I saw Jaehyun's figure again and noticed that he was on his way to the third cemetery. I immediately stood up and I ran after him to the third cemetery.

The third cemetery was Styx. I immediately went inside and looked for the white mist to appear. I stood in front of it and watched it.

Jaehyun transformed into a human and dropped to the ground when he saw his lover hanging lifeless on a tree. He ran towards it and saw his Goddess wife Yeri smirking at him and emerging beside the tree. He wanted to kill her, but when he saw Yeri making her way to the dead body, he immediately grabbed his dead lover and made a run for it. The land burst open and Jaehyun was swallowed by the ground, carrying his dead lover in his arms. He went to a river and sat beside it. His eyes turned black as he looked at his dead lover. The water suddenly became dark, and from then on, Jaehyun made sure that no one was to enter the Underworld except his people.

After the mist had disappeared, there were no signs of Jaehyun. I didn’t wait for him and made my way to the fourth cemetery, Cocytus. There, the mist was waiting for me.

Jaehyun spent hundreds of years trying to revive his lover. It was hard to bring her back to life considering that Yeri put a curse on the spear that she used to stab her to death before hanging her. She was the only one that he truly loved despite him being the god of death and the underworld. He cannot let his love be taken away from him even if it means confining her inside the underworld forever.

"Don't worry, my love. I'll protect you from now on. I'll never let you out of my sight again" Jaehyun whispered to the lifeless body before kissing her cold lips.

The mist turned black again and disappeared, confining me inside the underworld forever? That is impossible. I am already outside the underworld,......right?

The last cemetery was Lethe. The mist was already there, and Jaehyun was standing beside it. He was smiling at me but I returned it with a hard glare. Jaehyun slowly fades away as walked to the mist. I fixated my eyes on the scene playing before me.

Jaehyun managed to bring me back to life. We both spent our life together in the Underworld. Both of us were enjoying our lives together, but I sometimes cannot help but miss the world outside. Jaehyun would always argue with me almost every day. I want to see the world and to live a normal life again, but Jaehyun won’t let me leave the underworld. He was afraid that Yeri will find out that she was still alive and bring death upon her again and this time he won't be able to bring her back to life again.

Fed up with the fights that they had, he sent her to deep sleep for a few days. During those few days, Jaehyun changed the underworld in the eyes of his lover, making it look like a small town, and all the rivers were turned into cemeteries. Before she woke up, he erased all of her memories about Yeri and him. He had to make sure that she will never escape the underworld.

The mist faded away and I looked at the man standing in front of me. It was Jaehyun. I looked down and noticed that I was standing on a riverbank. I looked around and saw that all five cemeteries were gone. They were now all changed into rivers. My blood boiled knowing that I was still trapped in the underworld.

"Y/N....my love, please. Don't escape again" Jaehyun was taking small steps toward me as if he was afraid that I would run away the moment he came near me.

"You lied to me! Jaehyun, I don't want to be here anymore! I cannot live like this! Whatever happens, Yeri will always look for me as long as she knows that I am still with you!" Tears started to flow out of my eyes. Tears of anger and pain.

"Y/N you don't understand you-" Jaehyun ran up to me and held my cheeks in his hands.

"I have to leave you, Jaehyun. We cannot be together anymore" I said lowly and my eyes turned black.

The skies suddenly started parting away from each other as if they were the gates of the underworld. Jaehyun widens his eyes knowing that you were trying to escape again.

He immediately grabbed me before I could even fly back up to the skies and pulled me down into the river. I escaped his grip and tried to fly up to the gates to escape from the underworld, but a hand grabbed my foot and pulled me back again. Jaehyun put his hand around my eyes, and I could feel a burning sensation. I can feel myself sinking in the water as I am being drowned. I could hear Jaehyun's voice as started to lose consciousness.

"We could do this forever Y/N. I am never letting you go" Jaehyun smirked as your body went limp in his embrace.

~~~~~~

I was walking down the street when I passed one of the cemeteries in our town. I stopped for a moment and stared at the gates. Have you heard the story of the dark prince? Well, I did, and I’ve always been curious as to how he looked like and what his story was.

~~~~~~

Hello! I made another story although it is another Jaehyun story (Jaehyun is my bias though~~). I hope you guys like this one too. Thank you for reading!

#jaehyun #nct jaehyun #nct angst #nct imagines #nct scenarios #jung jaehyun #nct #nct 127 scenarios #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun au

42 notes · View notes

maple-writes · 3 years

Text

[Image ID: Banner image reading: The City of Eventide, Chapter 34, Maple-writes. End ID]

This is it! The last chapter! It still feels so strange to think that this really is the last one.

###

Each day grew longer than the last and the sun shone a little stronger, burning off morning spring clouds. Dylan made good on his promise to visit unannounced one afternoon. He showed up with a firm knock on the door and a greeting loud enough to wake me the rest of the way up. For hours he lingered in the kitchen, half occupied with putting the finishing touches on the egg salad sandwiches Fallon sent him along with but more occupied with filling me in on everything and anything. Tea in hand I barely spoke as the sun made its way down the sky, casting long shadows across the street outside and dimming the light through the windows all while Dylan replaced the usual quiet of the day. It was nice though, hearing someone else’s voice even if I did end up forgetting details and names in his stories.

The vitamins weren’t so bad aside from remembering to take them, and once I got used to the taste neither were the other supplements the doctor suggested. Even now Ginger stopped by sometimes to check on me and deliver updates on the goings-on back at the college, letting me know I could come see her there anytime. She’d smiled, assuring me that if I ever wanted to return to work with her we’d take it as easy as I needed.

Ember’s attempts to get me out of the house came fewer and farther between, dropping down from every night to maybe once or twice a week. Every time my heart skipped but two nights ago we made it to the 24 hour gas station store. Under the too-bright lights the night vanished outside and I had to remember to take every breath deep enough to keep my head from spinning and there were too many choices and items lining every shelf and fridge and nowhere to hide but Ember kept by my side. She walked me through and let me rest my hand on her forearm, letting some of the warmth and calm seep from her skin through mine.

We bought drinks and the lights and hum of refrigerators disappeared as the door closed behind us. Stepping between shadows cast by vacant gas pumps we didn’t make it much farther than the store that night, but for the first time some of the tension melted under quiet streetlights. Chill air cooled my lungs and settled my head. The two of us talked all the way back home and together in the living room until far too late. She really shouldn’t have been staying up that late with her job interview tomorrow, though she was quick to reminded me it was only in the afternoon.

Her interview went well, and by the end of the week she’d been called back for a second and a week after that they offered her the job as a deckhand on a fishing vessel. From what she told us it sounded hard, and she’d be gone for long stretches during the season, but her excitement was contagious. Striker ordered take out to celebrate and we ended up only going to bed long after the sun had set.

Yawning, I pulled my shirt off, crawled into bed and drew the blanket snug around my shoulders. After all the excitement and celebration I sunk all the way down into the pillows and sheets.

A rattle came from my window, then another and I sat up, squinting in the dark. Grey-blue in the evening dark, a wing flashed into view then a beak tapping at the glass as a seagull fluttered by. Cirrus. It had to be. Otherwise some poor bird was very, very lost.

I hopped out of bed and opened up the window just as he glided back around. He landed on the windowsill in a blur of feathers, tucking his wings neatly to the side and shaking out his tail as he came to a stop. His head tilted left and right, pupils dilating a moment before finding the right focus.

“Hey Cirrus.” I leaned over, resting my elbows against the windowsill. “It is you, right?”

The gull ruffled his feathers, puffing up and laying them flat again in one smooth wave. He raised his beak and stuck out his chest as he watched me sideways. I smiled, warmth spreading from deep in my chest. Of course this was Cirrus. Hard to believe the last time I’d seen him was back at the cabin. How long ago was that now? I’d lost track.

Cirrus turned, webbed feet tapping against the wood of the windowsill in the quiet of the dark. He faced the street, dark and empty, glancing back at me over his grey shoulder. I frowned. Did he want…

“You want me to go with you?”

He gave a quick nod, holding his head sideways to lock me in one of his little eyes. I swallowed and wrung my hands together. How far would he want me to go? What if something happened? I hunched my shoulder, hair falling in front of my face as I stared down at my arms.

“I, I don’t know Cirrus.” How was I supposed to tell him? How was I supposed to tell him I hadn’t gone much further than a few blocks from home on my own since I got back. “I don’t know.”

A weight landed on my shoulder, webbed feet against my skin. Cirrus pushed his beak through my hair to poke at my cheek. He settled down, feathers of his belly soft against my skin. I sighed and turned my neck to see him through the corners of my eyes.

Even if we hadn’t gone far nothing horrible happened whenever I went out with Ember. I held Cirrus’ stare for a moment, watching him blink and turn his head. If something did go wrong Cirrus would have seen it before, right? He didn’t know what Ginger did but it wouldn’t be the first time he’d helped. I could handle this. If I could handle the cemetery in the middle of the day I could handle a walk in the middle of the night.

I sighed again, straightening up slowly to give Cirrus the chance to hop down. “Alright. Let me get dressed first.”

Cirrus waited outside, perched on a nearby streetlight and watching as I finally stepped out into the night. I shut and locked the door as softly as I could behind me, trying to keep the nerves already wrapping around my throat in check. A flurry of feathers made me look up a second before Cirrus landed softly on my shoulder. Webbed feet tapped quiet on my jacket and grey wing-tips tickled my ear as he turned. He stuck his head out a second, caught my eye and flew down the street.

“Hey!”

I took off running after him. My feet fell loud and echoing in the quiet side streets and alleyways, chasing flashes of white feathers under spaced-out streetlights until I staggered to a breathless stop. Hands on my knees and hunched over on the sidewalk, my heart struggled to keep up with my lungs and my legs burned. Shit. How long had it been since I moved this much? Cold air scraped at the back of my throat. I coughed and tried to catch my breath. By the time I looked up Cirrus was gone.

I grit my teeth. “Damn it.”

A seagull’s call pierced through the quiet, shrill and laugh-like. Sounded like he wasn’t too far, towards the waterfront. Of course he’d want me to meet him there. I pulled myself back upright. He’d have to wait though because I wasn’t about to run the whole way there.

I’d almost caught my breath by the time the gentle lapping of the waves caught my ear, soft and rhythmic against the deserted shore. A full moon hung bright over the ocean casting liquid silver over the dark water and the white crests of incoming waves. I slowed as I stepped out onto the beach. Full moon. Cirrus, he hadn’t waited for me here after I’d gone home, had he? Waited and hoped I’d show up for him only to leave disappointed like he had so many times hoping his mother would come around.

He’d understand why I hadn’t come, if he’d waited here for me at all. I bunched my shoulders against the wind and shook the thought from my head, picking my way across the dark beach to the usual place. Tiny creatures, insects, arthropods, they scurried away from my path with every step. Moment by moment the lights of the city faded to a faint glow at my back to give way to blue-dark night.

A figure sat on a washed-up log, turning when I rounded the bend. A woman in an ink-black evening gown that billowed around her ankles when she stood and faced me with a polite smile.

“Well, you’ve sure perked up since I last saw you.” She paused, waiting, but I only squinted in attempts to place where we might have met. “Ah, you don’t recognize me.” She gestured to herself with a black-gloved hand. “Cirrus’ sister. Call me Hadley.”

We had met, hadn’t we. I furrowed my eyebrows and tried to remember back but couldn’t see much more than a blur, a haze of feathers and loud voices that seemed to rumble through the air and into my own lungs.

Hadley though either hadn’t noticed or didn’t mind, catching me with a nod as she settled back down on the log. “Cirrus should be here soon.” She shot me a smirk, raising her head high. “I have been instructing him on how to shift his form but it can be hit or miss. He wanted to see you though, so I agreed to help him out tonight.”

She leaned back resting her hands behind her and facing the shimmering sea. Her head tilted just a moment as I sat beside her. This close she had the same barely contained power Cirrus did, cold and powerful like a harsh wind biting through my clothes. She kept quiet, watching as wave after wave lapped at the rocky shore. Slowly, I ran my hand over the worn bark of the log, tracing over ridges and bits where the wood had torn and weathered away.

“Ah,” Hadley stood, smoothing down her dress in the breeze. “Sounds like he’s done.”

The bushes growing beside the beach rustled, and a moment later Cirrus stuck his head out, one hand covering half his face and casting a sheepish look at Hadley.

She half chuckled to herself with a short glance back at me. “One moment.”

Without waiting for any kind of response, she stepped out of sight behind the foliage and the night dark. She said something, mumbling and chiding but too low for me to make out, Cirrus responding with something indignant and defensive but without any teeth behind his words. I smiled, leaning forward on the log to try and peek around the bushes and shadows. That was Cirrus alright.

The leaves rustled again, branches snapped, and Cirrus swore as he stumbled out onto the beach. He found his balance and shook himself out, looking just like I remembered. Same hair, same eyes… I jumped up from the log and throwing my arms around him. He balked a moment, surprised, before returning the embrace. His clothes were warm and smelled like storm-bearing winds, familiar and new at the same time. I leaned against him, pressing my forehead against his shoulder a moment before standing up again, throat tight.

“Miss me?” Cirrus grinned, already knowing the answer.

I nodded. “Its different, with you gone.” Maybe not quieter now that Ember was around, but different. I swallowed and turned away, a hand to the back of my neck as I glanced out to the ocean. “I don’t know if you were waiting for me here, but I’m sorry if you were.” My voice dragged along. “Things haven’t been easy.”

He shrugged. “I wouldn’t know, I haven’t been around here either. It’s been a whirlwind.” Cirrus huffed and crossed his arms, shaking his head to the dark pebbles.

“Oh come on Cirrus!” Hadley scolded, coming up around behind him and messing up his hair. She snickered as he tried and failed to duck out of the way. “You had a great time. Do you think I missed you flirting with that pretty noble lady?”

Cirrus flustered, uncrossing his arms and stumbling over his tongue. “She started it!” He shook himself out with another huff, crossing his arms tighter than before. “But yeah, alright. It wasn’t all bad.” He watched his sister as she retuned to her perch on the log, a half smile on his face, before turning back to me. “You’re looking better than last time I saw you. At least like you’re not about to get blown over by the wind.” Cirrus paused a moment, just standing, watching me as the breeze slipped silent between us. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with so much colour in your face.

Even at in the dark? I looked away a moment, watching the moon hang bright over the gentle swells. Maybe he had better night vision than I did because Striker had said the same thing.

“I uh,” I faced him again, tucking my hands in my pockets and out of the chill. “I’ve been seeing some doctors since I got back for a while now. I guess it’s working.” The wind picked up again and I hunched my shoulders until Cirrus stepped to my side, blocking out some of the gale. “Ginger was saying the other day she’d be alright with me coming back to the college.”

“You going to do it?”

I shrugged, pushing rounded stones from side to side with the toe of my shoe. “I… I hope so. It’s been a while.” A smile played at my lips. “I kind of miss it actually.

Cirrus snorted. “Bored at home already?”

This time I grinned, full and toothy. “Maybe.”

He rolled his eyes but kept quiet, attention drifting up from me to the lights of the city down the beach. I glanced back over my shoulder to follow his gaze only a moment before focusing back on Cirrus. In the dark he looked just like I remembered, like nothing changed. Like he hadn’t been gone for months now and he’d never returned to life as a dragon. Like Ember hadn’t moved into his bedroom and he was going to be in the kitchen tomorrow morning when I got out of bed.

A deep ache spread sharp through my throat, all the way up to the floor of my mouth and I looked away. He had his own life now. His own life somewhere far away. Somewhere I couldn’t go and find him like I used to. He’d come to see me this time tonight but how long would that last? I swallowed. He wouldn’t forget about me now that what he’d hoped to happen for years and years finally came about, right?

“Do you remember back then when I couldn’t speak my name?” Cirrus spoke low, eyes still drifting over my head to the city. “That day you found me?”

I don’t think I would ever forget, he must have known that but I nodded all the same.

He paused, hesitating before speaking again. “It hurt for a long time. I used to dream of hearing it again, to be who I was again. But then…” Cirrus finally tore his gaze from Eventide. He looked down at me, the faintest of the distant light reflecting in his eyes. “It didn’t feel the same anymore. I’m keeping Cirrus. I just wanted you to know that.”

“Really?” My voice came out smaller than I expected, thinned and brittle. “You don’t miss the other?”

Cirrus shrugged. “I can’t say I don’t, but I don’t know, I couldn’t bring myself to part with this name yet.” He half smiled. “My mother wasn’t exactly thrilled but she’ll get over it.”

From what I’d heard of her, I wasn’t surprised. “You’re still going to come and visit, right?”

“Of course.” Cirrus casted a sidelong glance at his sister still seated on the log and gazing out to sea. “Though it might be a while yet before I get the hang of shape shifting alone.” He paused a moment before turning back to me. “I’ll be around. I’ve got at least a couple more centuries of watching over Eventide’s storms after all.”

That long? I guess it made sense. He was a dragon after all. I smiled but broke halfway by a surprise yawn. What time was it?

A warm hand rested on my shoulder as Cirrus’ laugh drifted over the crashing waves. “Keeping you up?” He grinned down at me as he turned towards the city. “I’ll take you home.”

We walked along the beach towards the soft city lights. At this time of night we had the sidewalks to ourselves, only the occasional car passing by the empty roads. My arm brushed his, contented warmth easing from him to me. I quickly ran out of things to update him on since coming back to Eventide and he took over most of the way home telling me all about his sisters and the trouble they’d get into. Even in the low light I could see how he flushed talking about the woman Hadley had brought up on the beach. I smiled, struggling to keep my eyes open and half leaning against his shoulder as we walked.

He sounded happy.

Sun sinking low in the sky relief pooled in my chest seeing how quiet Eventide College was this time of day. A handful of people milled and wandered around the front stairs, some chatting and laughing in the gold-tinged light. Inside the front lobby soft echoes of conversation drifted through the still air and the little coffee shop sat nearly empty with the last few customers before closing time rolled around.

My footsteps echoed through the empty halls, clicking against the stone stairs spiralling down towards Ginger’s basement. I hadn’t told her I was coming but surely she wouldn’t be unhappy to see me all the way out here.

The air chilled and a familiar presence brushed against my arm. I slowed, letting Cynthia gently press up against my shoulder as her relief and excitement slipped through my skin. A smile spread on my face and I held out a hand. She knew me. She knew how to be gentle, how to contain herself unlike the panicked, desperate spirits who needed my help.

She slid though my palm, passing cold up the veins of my arm all the way up where they joined together in the subclavian. Good to see you again. It’s been a while.

I nodded along, continuing down the stairs as she settled in deeper tucked under my first rib. Been a while was an understatement. I swallowed. Had anyone told her what happened? It must have seemed like I’d just vanished one day, Ginger too. Charlotte filled me in. We were all worried about you for a while there. Glad to see you back on your feet. Thanks.

The stairs opened up to the little underground hallway, my footsteps booming in the quiet. I tucked my hands in my pockets and shifted as Cynthia nestled herself more comfortably towards my chest. Here to see Ginger? I nodded. If she’s here. She is. Saw her come in a few hours ago. Good. Good. Does this mean you’re going to stick around? I turned the last corner, slowing to a shuffle. Had I even considered not coming back here? Even if Ginger had told me I’d never be able to come back here would I really be able to just… Stop?

Even if you change you mind, her grin crossed my face, you should still stop by. You’re the easiest living person to chat with to come through those doors.Really? Faster than hijacking Charlotte’s computer. Fair enough.

I paused in front of Ginger’s office, the door slightly ajar. Cynthia stilled under my skin, cold and fluid. Could you give us a minute? Right. Was good to see you again Asher. She shifted a moment before breathing out through the thin skin at the top of my chest and vanishing somewhere through the walls of the college. Alone I stood another moment in front of the door. I took a deep breath, rested my hand on the door handle and opened it up just enough to poke my head into Ginger’s office.

She looked up from her computer as soon as she saw me. For a moment surprise seemed to flash across her face but in a heartbeat it shifted to a wide, fang-filled smile.

“Asher! Welcome back.”

#the city of eventide #chapter 34 #last chapter #my writing #it's just #wow #i've been working on this since like #late 2018 i think #i'll have to write up a real post to get my thoughts out sometime

4 notes · View notes

imjeralee · 3 years

Text

Comfort in Despair: Chapter 25 - The Exorcist

Leon x F!Reader

Disclaimer: Do not own Pokemon

Summary:

Galar is rich in folklore and tales of the supernatural.

As a Pokemon Researcher who specialises in ghost types, this is a great opportunity for you to investigate and learn more about the paranormal.

Along the way, you meet Leon (in the most awkward way possible) who becomes embroiled in your adventures.

^ Basically this story is about ghosts :/

NOTE: ok so Genshin Impact has consumed my soul and I updated this on Tumblr a bit late sorry!!! There’s several warnings here to be shared with you all:

WARNING 1 - this chapter contains a real exorcism prayer and you should not read this prayer out loud unless you are a catholic priest.

WARNING 2 - I've never used an ouija board and I don’t plan to. You’re welcome to share with me your ouija board stories if you have tried one before but I myself don't know if they're just board games or really a gateway to let things in. Anyway people say exercise with caution so please do so should you ever decide to use one for whatever reason.

WARNING 3 - there is mention of blood, I toned down the exorcism here

Rating: General/Teen

@marydragneell here is the latest update

The Exorcist

…

[Legend of the Void:

(Ezra's version, which introduces concepts such as the merging of two universes to explain the origins of man + pokemon subservience to humans)

Before the concept of time existed, before anything existed, there was Something, and you may as well say this 'something' was a god, a divine being or interdimensional entity, and this entity created a Universe under the right circumstances and conditions, and he would proceed to create humans.

And for a while, the Creator of Man was happy until he saw the evil ways of humanity and he saw this evil run rampant in his world. Regretful and upset, he decided to destroy the very thing he created with a flood.

However, the Creator of Man didn't choose to restore this world. After he destroyed it, he left and found another Universe - a Universe that was similar to his own, except it was inhabited by strange creatures which we know as pokemon. Now they already had a creator, and their creator was called Arceus, who emerged from a void after our Creator did. And our Creator saw that this Universe was just as peaceful and beautiful as his previous one.

He decided to give his creations a second chance so he made humans all over again and placed them in this world. But mankind are a destructive species, the human heart is filled with evil intention and it always will be, and the humans began creating devices to enslave the pokemon race in order to utilise them as tools.

My notes: According to the Church of Circhester, this 'version' is completely unorthodox. It is 'baseless fabrication and blasphemy' and Ezra was condemned as a misanthrope.

Sometimes I wonder where Ezra gets his theories from because this is highly controversial. It's fascinating that to this day and age, scientists are actually still trying to figure who caught the first pokemon, what was the first pokemon caught, and why (ie, how did early humans gain this knowledge, who told them and/or did anyone tell them, what prompted them to capture a pokemon?), and how did they manage to do so in the first place.

Could the discovery of catching pokemon be similar to coincidences that happened throughout history, such as how cavemen discovered fire, how Newton discovered gravity?

(edit: there is a myth that Prometheus stole fire from the gods and gave it to humans. For his transgression, he was to undergo eternal torment as punishment - ie, bound to a rock and have his liver eaten out everyday, only for it to re-grow hence an ongoing cycle. He was freed by the hero, Heracles).

Interestingly enough, flood myth also exists in many cultures albeit with different variations (pls refer to: The Epic of Gilgamesh).

Also, I'm pretty sure Team Plasma advocated that pokemon were oppressed and should be liberated from their trainers but then again they were also being led by a psychopath with his own selfish motives.]

…

A few years ago.

The weather is thunder and lightning, coupled with intense spitting rain.

And he was sure he locked the cemetery gates before he left but now they were hanging loosely from the chain.

Ezra grumbles to himself, eyes narrowing.

It can only mean one thing: an intruder.

The rickety gates squeal on their old hinges as he pushes them open and steps inside. His heavy footsteps plod through the old, withered path of Greyson’s cemetery as he heads for the mausoleum. That’s usually where they are.

Absol trots beside him, her jaws clamped over the tarnished iron handle of an old lantern; she keeps it dangling in front of her, lighting up the path though it’s not much use to him. He lives in a world of darkness, and he's used to it.

It should have been a normal night, which would have been nice because he wanted some peace and quiet for a change considering how busy he had been for the past few weeks. He wanted to be alone with his thoughts and he wanted to enjoy a pack of beer and cigarettes.

Not tonight, it seems.

He will tell those pesky young lads to go play elsewhere.

But wait, it’s something else.

Absol has been somewhat agitated the moment they approach the cemetery, but now she cannot stop growling.

“What is it?” he asks, but it doesn’t take too long to figure out what it is. “Goddamnit.”

This is just what he needed.

He delves a hand into his pocket and whips out a thin strip of paper covered in sprawling red symbols. Bringing it to his lips, he murmurs a quick enchantment under his breath before it bursts into flames and a smoky smell permeates the air. A bright, glowing light illuminates the symbols and he promptly tosses it high into the air.

Despite the wind, it flutters limply in the breeze for a second and then the impossible happens; the glowing symbols daintily lift themselves off the surface and float in the sky. They thoroughly increase in size, the symbols imprinting the air before they vanish into wisps of smoke.

The talisman proceeds to burn up and all that is left is a crinkly ball of fire which bursts into long and thin lines of flames that zips effortlessly through the air and stretches all the way past the graveyard’s borders.

“That should do it,” Ezra murmurs before he rubs at his aching hip. “C'mon, let’s go.”

He wanders further into the graveyard with his pokemon, pondering to himself what he might find though he is aware the answer to that is essentially nothing remotely good and along the way, a few ghost pokemon emerge from the tombstones and watch them worriedly.

They’re aware of the disturbance tonight but can do little to stop it, unfortunately as it requires human intervention, and is literally out of this world.

A few Haunters point him to the right direction but he doesn’t need their help because he can sense where this unwanted and hauntingly powerful presence is. He may have lived in darkness for a long time but he can see it as clear as day: a twisting, coiling mass filled with nothing but malice.

It is also not alone for Ezra can also sense another human being; a warm and kind but very tired and exasperated soul, about to be devoured.

He hopes they’re not too late and Absol leaves his side and he can hear her padded paws bounding away from him against the pebbly path; she leaps off the ground and snaps her jaws at this person.

There is a brief howl and something weighty slams over the ground.

Absol has subdued the culprit.

Ezra arrives and his hip is still acting up but nevertheless, he limps over and he sees this little warm and pure soul squirming helplessly on the ground as it is slowly being enveloped by the dark presence.

Whoever it is, they cannot even speak, reduced to a gurgling, rasping mess.

He uses his foot to nudge at this poor, unfortunate individual that is writhing helplessly on the floor of his cemetery though he knocks over this thick, wooden plate of some sorts at the same time and there is the sound of a glass rolling.

An Ouija board.

“Help!” a girl screams. “Oh god! Help- aaaghh!”

Morbid wailing follows as she’s forced to contort under the demon’s influence and a few bones snap and she begins crying but the sound lodges in her mouth and she emits a guttural rasp, her throat rattling violently.

The old ex-priest grabs a talisman from his pocket and smacks it over her forehead which ceases her violent fits for temporary.

“Hey, kid. Sit tight, I’m gonna get it out, you hear me?”

“O-okay!” she squeaks, and though he’s surprised she can even respond, she returns to the incoherent snarling and growling. As he tries to grab her, she makes several routine attempts to bite him.

Avoiding her as much as possible, Ezra bends down and lifts her into his arms with the help of his pokemon who helps nudge her into his arms.

“Steady now,” he says as he carries her into the mausoleum, which isn’t too far ahead.

He hears her croaking and choking, fighting the entity within as he settles her into the huge stone chair inside. Absol closes the door behind them and then trots over with a thick coil of rope which she collects from one corner.

He thanks her and begins strapping the girl carefully and securely into the chair with rope, keeping her wrists and ankles bound as she kicks and flails, hurling curses and obscenities at him, screaming and roaring and shrieking in a feral manner.

His pokemon stands watch as the girl starts slamming the back of her head against the stone, growling raucously.

But Ezra remains calm and lights various rows of candles that line the walls, pulls his silver cross out and clutches it tightly in his old hands and kneels in front of the altar, his weak knees hitting the dirt. Since his vision failed him, he hasn’t moved the statue or the water trough anywhere else.

He chants a prayer under his breath and dips his fingers into the water. God bless him. God save her soul. He does the sign of the cross and then heads over to the duo and blesses his pokemon as well, which she appreciates by purring affectionately.

Grabbing an old brush, he dips it into a bucket of old red paint in the corner and begins painting a sigil on the ground as quickly as he can around the chair.

Once he’s finished, he dumps the brush to the side. He moved to stand in front of the girl who has ceased her wild shrieking in favour of hissing spitefully at him.

“Be silent,” Ezra commands in a loud, booming voice, before he tosses some of the water over her.

And so it begins.

“In nómine Pátris, et Fílii, et Spirítus Sancti. Amen,” Ezra chants with his silver cross in hand which he proceeds to thrust in front of her face, “Exsúrgat Deus et dissipéntur inimíci ejus: et fúgiant qui odérunt eum a fácie ejus. Sicut déficit fumus defíciant; sicut fluit cera a fácie ígnis.”

Outside, the muffled clap of overhead thunder can be heard, the wind howling.

He continues, “Sic péreant peccatóres a fácie Dei-“

“If you think that will stop me, you’re wrong," says a deep voice.

Dabbing his entire hand into the trough of holy water, Ezra steps forward and smears it all over her forehead before he presses the rest of his palm firmly into her face. The demon shrieks and withdraws.

That’s what you get for interrupting me, Ezra thinks to himself but ultimately cannot say aloud: he must continue the exorcism prayer regardless of how long it could take.

“Júdica Dómine nocéntes me; expúgna impugnántes me. Confundántur et revereántur quaeréntes ánimam meam,” he murmurs, “Avertántur retrórsum et confundántur, cogitántes míhi mála. Fíant táamquam púlvis ante fáciem vénti: et Ángelus Dómini coárctans eos.”

The door suddenly flies open and the brutal, icy wind swirls inside, wiping out all the flames of the candles in a split second. Absol glances around in high alert but Ezra remains still. Raindrops batter his back as the door slams in its frame repeatedly.

The walls tremble from several wicked blows as though an unseen assailant is rampaging outside, circling the mausoleum whilst repeatedly slamming a hammer against the stone, yet Ezra remains calm.

“Fiat via illórum ténebrae, et lúbricum: et Ángelus Dómini pérsequens eos. Quóniam grátis abscondérunt míhi intéritum láquei sui: supervácue exprobravérunt ánimam meam.”

Realising the priest is undeterred, the monster unleashes an unearthly howl and a glass shatters somewhere. It’s bellows and roars reverberate throughout the walls and resonates thoroughly in Ezra’s ears.

Since he lost his sight, his hearing amplified; the shrill sounds of nails scraping against the stone and the chaotic tugging of the rope rises to inescapable volumes as the demon furiously struggles against its bonds.

Ezra continues his prayer, “Véniat illi láqueus quem ignórat; et cáptio quam abscóndit, aprehéndat eum: et in láqueum cádat in ipsum-”

He briefly picks up the coppery stench of blood and very soon, a wet substance splatters over his lips and cheeks and eyelids. It laughs, and another splodge hits the side of his ear.

Raising a hand, Ezra wordlessly smothers the blood away with the back of his hand. “Ánima áutem mea exsultábit in Dómino: et delectábitur super salutári suo. Glória Pátri, et Fílio, et Spirítui Sancto.”

Then he presses his cross over the demon’s head, forcing it to shriek uncontrollably. It kicks and screams, quaking fiercely against the restraints. He applies more pressure, the cross is warm under his grip and steadily growing hotter.

To his utmost surprise, the little warm light he had seen earlier is beginning to return and it is fighting back, growing larger and larger as the seconds pass.

“Come on, kid, I know you’re still in there. You can do it!” he yells.

She keeps growling and snarling, foaming at the mouth. Gnashing her teeth repeatedly, she emits a deranged howl, struggling viciously to reach him.

“Come on! Fight it!”

The walls of the mausoleum quake violently, the ground underneath his very feet trembles. Absol starts growling, leaping around in alarm.

Ezra listens to the excruciating sound of cords straining and eventually coming undone; her fist shoots out and her fingers, sharp as claws, stabs into his gut, and twists.

He grunts with pain, but does not let go.

Easing his other hand into his pockets, he pulls out another talisman; it glows faintly from the enchantment which he promptly slaps over her forehead and with a powerful bark of “Relinquo!", a dark shadow shoots out from her body and into the air with a bloodcurdling shriek.

Freed at last, the girl keels over, her head dipped low, blood gushing from her mouth.

And Ezra stumbles backwards, lifting a bleeding hand off his stomach. He sighs heavily before he feels his head growing light, his body weightless, and he promptly collapses over the floor.

…

When he wakes up, he can feel warmth all around.

He is lying on something soft.

A bed.

He has not slept in a bed for a long time.

It smells like lavender and jasmine.

He despises it.

"You're awake!" exclaims a voice.

It's the girl from the cemetery.

Purring sounds can be heard near his bed and he reaches over; a fluffy head affectionately plops itself under his palm and rubs itself against his callused skin. Ezra grunts under his breath, groaning as he shuffles around under the blanket and attempts to reach for her, though his limbs are weary.

“Cassie,” he utters, and Absol climbs onto the bed, sprawling over him. He gently pats her head and strokes her snowy white fur.

The room is silent until he hears the legs of a chair screeching against the floor and the girl does her best to quietly leave the room. She returns in roughly half an hour however, after he’s had a check-up.

By then, he’s exhausted and wants to rest.

He hears the door squeaking open and she pokes her head in, then steps inside the room and closes the door behind her.

“What are you doing here?" he asks tiredly.

"I needed to see that you'd be okay," she says, "I thought you were dead. I'm…I’m really sorry."

"It'll take more than that to kill me."

"Thank you for saving my life."

"As long as I'm around, nothing's gonna happen to you, kid."

"Thank you, sir. Um...Can I ask you a question?"

"About what?"

"About the...demon.”

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything. I want to know if it was the one who took my sister and my father. And if it was, I want to know why it did it and I want to get them back."

“Listen, kid. Don't dabble in stuff you don't understand, especially this."

"I know and I'm so, so sorry. But…can you teach me?"

His unfazed expression doesn't change.

"Please teach me.”

He hears the chair legs squeaking again coupled with a lot of fumbling; she’s flat on the ground before him on her hands and knees. How troublesome, he thinks to himself with a sigh.

"You want to learn how to exorcise demons?" he grunts.

"Yes."

“You?”

“Yeah.”

Utterly astounded, he takes a while to reply and rubs the back of his neck. "Do you hear the kind of stuff that is coming out of your mouth right now?" he growls and she looks up, confused. "You're saying something along the lines of 'I want to destroy a creation of the universe'. Do you know how impossible and crazy that sounds? Do you?"

"A creation of the universe? Are you talking about Arceus? Why would Arceus create something like that…do you mean it’s an undiscovered pokemon of undiscovered type???”

“Hell no. Goddamnit, kid, I mean it came before Arceus.”

“What do you mean, ‘before Arceus’? Arceus came from an egg and before the egg, it was a void of nothingness-“

He sighs heavily. “There was something before Arceus, before the void. You always explain one event as being created by some earlier event, right? So before Arceus, there was some kind of infinite period where time did not exist but during this period, there was something there…do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

“…Not really.”

“Exactly. You’re obviously still in shock and speaking nonsense. Go home, kid. Go back to your family.”

Yawning loudly, he pulls the blanket closer over his body and turns round in his warm and cosy bed, his back to her. He’s careful not to lie on his stomach though.

"But I'm serious," she says.

"So am I," he replies.

...

After he’s fully healed and discharged, he returns to the cemetery; the Corviknight taxi drops him off a few metres away and he taps his way across the Wild Area with Absol and his cane.

When he arrives, he realises the girl is also here.

At first, he ignored her and let her be. He did his daily caretaker duties, watering the plants, pulling weeds and sweeping the tombs.

He didn't know what she was doing here - she probably observed his daily regime - and one day she brought some cleaning supplies with her and began assisting him with the upkeep of the cemetery, especially with some of the heavy lifting.

Today, he’s forcibly awoken when he hears her sweeping the area around the mausoleum and shoving dust everywhere and he grumbles sourly under his breath. He had already told her a few times to go home but she keeps coming back. She keeps coming back to clean, to lurk around the graveyard, to help him.

“Stop that,” he snaps at her, “you’re disturbing them, and I already swept it yesterday.”

She stops dusting at some tombstones. “Sorry, I thought-”

Ezra grumbles, scrubbing at his mangy face with a dirty palm. Reaching for a beer by his calf, he grasps blindly for the can and lifts it to his mouth, downing a sip. “Get over here, kid.”

He hears her stepping towards him and he glances up, looking at this annoyingly bright light before him.

“You really wanna learn that badly, huh?”

“Yes, sir.”

“No need to be so formal, my name is Ezra.” With a heavy sigh, he dusts himself down and stands up, using his cane to support himself. “And I am…or was, the pastor of the Church of Circhester. I was also a member of the International Association of Exorcists. Do you understand who and what you’re dealing with?”

“Yes, sir – I mean, Ezra.”

“Now, tell me who you are and why I should teach you.”

He hears this little gasp of awe before she tells him her predicament. She tells him her name, who she is, where she came from, how old she is.

She rambles at some point and he has to occasionally steer her towards the focal details and periodically, she’ll become flustered, especially when speaking about the night when she saw her father and sister devoured by a Dusknoir. Once she’s finished recounting her tale, he nods.

“It was a demon, right?” she says, though she sounds unsure.

“Probably. Didn't your family have any pokemon?"

"...Sableye and Haunter went missing, and Cutiefly and Sinistea were in PC boxes," she says, "Please teach me. I want to learn."

He studies her quietly, then holds his index finger up in the air. “Fine, but I must warn you: my teachings are difficult and I’ve had several idiots coming up to me just like how you did and they’ve all failed-”

“I'm not an idiot and I won’t fail you.”

“-Yeah, let’s see about that, kid.” Holding up two fingers now, “Second, if I’m to teach you, I want you to swear to me you will take no retribution against Dusknoir. I don’t mind if you want to research one or whatever, but do not take your grudge with the pokemon. It’s nothing to do with it.”

“I understand.”

He moves on to hold up three fingers. “Third, that being said, you cannot use what you learned to harm humans or pokemon in any way. You must use it for good. I can tell you have a gift and under my guidance and training, I believe you will reach your full potential.”

“Okay.”

“Four, I will teach you with the utmost effort and I also expect to receive full commitment from yourself. I will not make do with time-wasters or mediocrity. Do you understand?”

“Yeah.”

“And lastly, promise me you will not in either way, attempt to summon entities for any reason. Do not use Ouija boards, do not dabble in sacrifice, do not try to open any portals. Hell, do not attempt any of those things.”

“I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.”

“Now, some of my teachings are limited. I can teach you how to protect yourself and protect others. Are you happy with this, knowing that there are limitations as to what I can teach you?”

“Yes, I am.”

Ezra studies her again before he nods to himself.

He’s said quite a lot but he knows she understands. “Good,” he murmurs.

“So…when do we start?”

“We start now.”

He disappears inside the mausoleum and re-emerges with a dirty rucksack; he pulls out a tattered old journal along with an old, portable cassette player which he hands to her.

“Your first task is to read this and listen to the tapes. Learn the symbols, learn the prayers. Come back whenever you’re ready and show me what you got.”

“Got it.”

She comes back in five days, which was a lot earlier than he had expected considering his previous ‘disciples’ either came back in a week or two, and some barely returned in person, opting to hand his book and tape back by leaving it at the gates.

He hears her approaching and sits up whilst Absol sleeps in a corner, and she says, “I finished it.”

“What did you think?”

“It was interesting.“

“...You didn’t think it was disturbing?”

“No.”

There is a brief silence.

“Hm…not sure if that’s a good or bad thing,” he murmurs under his breath.

The tapes were full of recorded exorcisms, consisting of unearthly screaming, howling and shrieking courtesy of the victims.

He says, “Recite Saint Michael’s prayer to me.”

She does so, with almost near-perfect pronunciation.

Ezra listens intently and nods when she’s finished. “Not bad. Now let’s hear Signum Crucis.”

“In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancta-“

“Sancti,” he corrects her.

“Sancti,” she repeats.

“Not bad. Again.”

She recites the short prayer once more, this time with no errors.

“Gloria Patri,” he grunts out next, grabbing his beer and flipping the lid off.

And they continue going through some prayers until it’s almost sunset and she’s a little exhausted and he’s finished his pack of beer.

“You did well, kid. Come back tomorrow.”

“Really???”

“Yeah.”

“Thank you!!”

“Don’t thank me yet. I’ll be testing you on the symbols and their meanings. Then there’s a final test.”

“Okay!” she exclaims excitedly, and after exchanging some short words, she bids him farewell and he hears her leaving, her footsteps echoing loudly in the quiet graveyard.

The next day, she returns and passes the symbols assessment with flying colours as he had expected considering how quickly she’d picked up the Latin prayers.

And the next day after that, he teaches her how to use talismans.

As the weeks roll by, he continuously subjects her to tests on latin prayers and symbology. Then he teaches her some blood magic.

Soon, weeks turns to months, and she’s picked up a lot of his teachings in a short period of time, which impresses him greatly.

She begins to accompany him on exorcisms which undoubtedly at the beginning, does disturb her a little but the more she sat in and watched (and sometimes assisted with), the more she began to see such things as a normality and he also allows her to work on her own cases albeit under some guidance.

Before he knows it, he has transformed this little girl into an exorcist.

“Well done, kid. You’ve exceeded all my expectations. I’m proud of you," he says with a nod of his head.

She cheers, but then remembering her tutelage, she bows deeply with gratitude, eyes closed. “Thank you, Ezra. I wouldn’t be where I am now if it weren’t for you,” she replies, “what’s the final test?”

“Final test?”

“Yeah, you mentioned it a while ago.”

“….Hm, so I did,” he says, before he gets off the steps, dusting at his palms and weak knees. “Let me show you something. Come on, Absol.”

He motions her to follow him and he heads to two marked graves near a statue of a weeping angel which is covered in a sparse layer of moss.

She joins his side and she scans the names etched on the stone. One name in particular stands out. “Cassie??” she murmurs, before she casts a glance to the pokemon that stands by his side.

Absol looks up, and regards her with its steely blue eyes.

“My wife and daughter,” Ezra murmurs, his white gaze staring emptily into space. “This is a dark path. There will always be death. This is my final warning to you: if you choose to walk this path, be prepared to lose everything. Is this something you can do?”

There is a brief silence until she says, “Yes.”

Ezra hesitates; she observes him for any noticeable reaction but he is immobile, standing stiffly with his hands clasped together in front of him.

“...Very well," he utters. "Come with me.”

“Where to?”

“You’ll see when we get there.”

He hasn’t left the cemetery other for reasons than to go to the soup kitchen or to buy his beer and cigarettes, so he asks her to call for a Corviknight taxi since he doesn’t have a Rotom phone.

When the taxi arrives, he asks the driver to take them to the Dusty Bowl and they’re dropped off at the outskirts.

“Why are we here?” she asks, but he ignores her and begins to head for the desolate path.

She trails after him and despite being blind, she’s stunned to see that he seems to be aware a great deal of where he’s going. A sandstorm begins to rage but Ezra is unaffected and continues to wander down the plains, using his cane to avoid any obstacles such as rocks, trees or tall grass. Whilst she tries to cover her eyes, blinking through sand and grit, she helps him along the way of course, but he doesn’t seem to require her assistance at all.

Occasionally, wild pokemon will peek at them from behind the dry and crusty grass but they don’t dare to approach.

She glances around with much wariness as he leads her further and further away from the winding path, the barren wastelands, the dead trees and soon, he has led her into oblivion.

The sandstorm worsens and as she looks left, right and up, she cannot see a single damn thing in front of her; if she did not keep her gaze pinned on the ghostly silhouette of her mentor tottering in front of her a short feet away, she was certain she would have lost her way.

“Ezra, be careful!” she yells above the loud winds and the whirling sands.

“I’ll be fine,” he says, though his voice is hard to hear.

Her nerves begins to eat at her and they’ve been walking for seems like an eternity and she isn’t even sure if they’re still in the Dusty Bowl or the gym challenger’s path anymore, perhaps they’ve moved onto the Giant’s Mirror or the Stony Wilderness, but the sandstorm is endless and she calls after him once more.

“Ezra, where are you taking me?”

“Keep moving, we’re almost there,” he grunts at her in response.

Her question is finally answered when he stops in his path and grows still, holding out his arm.

“Wait.”

She watches him, listening, but nothing happens.

“Okay, come over here.”

There is a bad feeling in her gut as she sidles up to him and to her utmost surprise, the sandstorm begins to subside, revealing a large cenote before them.

Her eyes widen.

He’s standing at the very edge, his foot shoving some rocks and dust into the large pit before them; if he had taken one step further, he would’ve fallen inside. She looks around in shock. The sandstorm had disappeared in a blink of an eye, instead it had been replaced with a lingering misty fog that surrounded them. She knew the Wild Area was erratic but this weather was abnormal to the extreme.

Her shocked gaze strays to the blind man. His glazed eyes are focused in front of him, oblivious to the deep.

“I want you to go in there,” he says.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes,” he mutters. “You can take the stairs.”

He nudges his head to the right where a spiralling ‘staircase’ consisting of huge, mismatched slabs of rocks sticking out from the walls of the pit appear to offer a way down inside.

“Do you wish to turn back?” he asks, sensing her hesitation.

“No.”

“I’ll be right behind you.”

She nods and steps towards the first rock, which is dusty and covered with yellowing grass, and she uses one foot to test out the footing, giving it a few stern prods with her toes. The rock seems stubborn enough and once she deems it safe, she makes her way down.

It’s steep and she carefully tackles each step one by one, having to hold onto some dry vines that dangle and stick out of the edges of the wall until she arrives at the bottom of the pit.

Looking up and around, the sky is painted a strange and ethereal purplish, blue glow… perhaps from the aurora borealis, though she’s never seen it warp into this sort of shade before. Usually it is a streak of colours in the night sky…neither a star can be seen in sight either.

She also realises the pit isn’t as deep as she thought. She’s fairly certain gym challengers would never find this place nor would anyone in the right mind would even want to go in here.

She steps closer towards the middle of the pit, her feet crunching under gravel and stones, and stares at the walls of the pit.

There is an entrance, resembling a zigzagged slit in the wall. It’s big enough for a lone individual to slip inside but that’s just about it. She cannot see what’s inside; it is far too dark.

“Is this a pokemon den?” she asks, gesturing to the entrance.

“No.”

Her mentor’s voice sounded very close; she promptly turns to see Ezra hobbling behind her. “That was quick.”

“Give me a second,” he mutters as he brushes past her and steps towards the large and gaping hole in the wall, stopping just a foot or so away. “Stay there and don’t move, don’t make a sound.”

She goes silent, and she did not dare to peel her eyes away from the cave entrance where a figure is emerging from within.

A withered-looking Lucario with a greying muzzle and dirty golden fur steps outside and into the pit, wielding a wooden staff that is as tall as itself. It's what trainers coin as a 'shiny' pokemon, and these pokemon are extremely rare, especially in the wild. Puzzled, she watches as the pokemon greets her mentor.

Ezra's mouth moves but she cannot hear what he’s saying.

Then he stops and Lucario nods, and the man and pokemon turn to glance at her direction.

She strains to hear what they could possibly be conversing yet there is nothing, not even a pokemon cry, not the slightest rustle of the wind. Nothing.

It is silent.

The silence is suffocating to say the least and eventually, Lucario nods his head after the prolonged period of stillness. The pokemon turns and returns into the cave, disappearing into the darkness.

Placing his cane on the ground in front of him, he balances his palms over the handle. “Lucario has granted you entry.”

“…What?” she asks, a little anxiously.

Inhaling silently, Ezra replies, “There are greater things in our universe, greater than you and me. Even greater than pokemon.”

“What’s going on? What is a Lucario doing all the way out here? Where’s his trainer?”

“He doesn’t have one. This is his home,” Ezra mutters. “Now listen carefully. This is Gossamer Cave. A relic can be found here. A long time ago, I used it to destroy a demon that terrorised my wife and child. However, it is a highly dangerous weapon and you have to be ready to wield it, to understand its power and origins. If this is something you want, then you must go inside and fetch it.”

There are questions buzzing aplenty in her mind. “What does it look like?”

“You’ll know when you see it. My question for you is, do you wish to wield such a weapon? You might not like what you find out.” He mutters, before stepping aside, allowing her entry regardless of her response, regardless if she goes in or not.

She bites down on her lip anxiously but he does not offer any further words, no further advice or warning. She ponders to herself briefly, thinking about her parents, her sister and how they are all depending on her. Although she is nervous, she must cast aside these sinking feelings and surpass. She must be brave when no-one else is, when no-one else can. She must do it for them.

"I'm going in," she declares, and she passes him and enters the cave without further ado.

It’s dark.

She's greeted with the hypnotic splash of water dripping from the ceiling onto the floor and the marauding howl of the wind from outside that echoes and slips through the cave.

Lucario sits on a large rock to the left with the wooden staff balanced over its paws. It’s eyes are closed, deep in meditation. As she passes by, it does not acknowledge her presence.

Expecting Zubats or some other types of cave-dwelling pokemon, she’s stunned to see it is devoid of any other critter except from the aura pokemon.

A linear path lies ahead but she hits a dead-end.

Confused, she pats the wall in front of her, looking up and around. She checks for any cracks, any hidden passages. She checks every nook and cranny and leaves no stone upturned. She raps her knuckles over the walls, hoping for a hollow thud, a secret trap door perhaps?

There is nothing.

Disappointed and perplexed, she returns to the entrance.

“There’s nothing there," she says.

“I see. Then it’s not time yet. You still need more training, kid. You have a long way to go.” Ezra replies, unsurprised.

“I really don’t understand.”

“When you hear it, you will.”

“Hear what?”

“Tell me when you do, okay?”

Frustrated, she says, “Stop being so cryptic! What’s in the cave? What’s this relic?”

“You’ll find out when you’re ready. For now, forget what you saw and focus on your training. Focus on getting better, then you can come back.”

“Fine.”

Slipping his hands into the pockets of his withered coat, he begins to leave. She follows him with a sigh, mostly out of exasperation. Before she leaves however, she tosses a quick glance over her shoulder towards the abyss.

She was expecting to see something, maybe a shadow or a little flicker of light, maybe Lucario would come out again.

However, there is nothing.

...

Present.

You’ve grown quiet.

Leon watches as your brows scrunch with confusion, your expression souring. “What’s wrong?”

“Gossamer Cave,” you utter, before you grab his arm and exclaim loudly, “Gossamer Cave! That's it, Leon!"

Releasing him, you stand up, rush up the stairs and towards the bookshelves; he follows, watching you stop at a random shelf before you speedily skim through the books on the shelf, inspecting the titles quickly.

“Aha,” you murmur under your breath, pulling out a thick and burly red book from its place; it is an atlas of the Wild Area.

You beckon him over as you open the book, unfolding it to its full proportion over the floor. It’s not the most updated map but it’ll do for now.

Leon squats down beside you as you flip through the pages.

“Ezra took me to a place called Gossamer Cave ages ago. I can’t believe I forgot all about it. We took a Corviknight taxi, got off at the Dusty Bowl and we walked for a long time and there was a sandstorm, and then all of a sudden he stopped at a large pit. I’m supposed to tell Ezra when I start hearing things. He was so cryptic I didn’t understand what he meant back then but now I do. I can understand Gengar; I can hear what he says. That’s what Ezra meant. Leon, I’m ready.”

“Ready?” he murmurs, as you finally pinpoint the location on the map and begin scouring the page.

You nod. “I’m ready to face it -- whatever it was that took my family away. I can fight it now. I just need to find Gossamer Cave.”

Leon’s expression is a conflicted one. “When the officials mapped out the Wild Area for the gym challenge, they never found any place called Gossamer Cave.”

“It must be there, I saw it with my own eyes. It was a cenote, but there was this entrance that led to a cave and I went in. It was guarded by a Lucario, and a shiny one too,” you reply, “I need to find it. There’s something there, and it will help me.”

…

Meanwhile, in Greyson’s cemetery, Absol has been biting and tugging at his coat all night, in a vain effort to force him to get up and leave. She has sensed something. However, Ezra merely chills on the steps, drinking his beer and she gives up, having grown rather weary, and has settled to curl up next to him. It’s then his ears pick up the sounds of footsteps a distance away.

The footsteps stop; a lone individual stands a foot away from him.

“Hello, you must be the exorcist of Greyson’s cemetery,” says a distorted, muffled voice. "Remember me?"

The voice is unrecognisable. Ezra inhales deeply, scrunching the beer can under his fist. “…Something I can help you with?”

“Yes,” the voice leers. “You can die right here and now!”

A massive unseen force promptly smashes the steps of the mausoleum in half, sending stone and debris flying into the air; it stands, retracting its claws with a grin as the dust clears away, before peeking left and right.

Ezra has disappeared.

“Where are you,” it hisses with a chuckle as it lifts up rocks and debris, flinging them to the side and digging its claws into the earth, cackling with mirth, “Where are you, exorcist?? Come out, come out, wherever you are. I won't hurt you - much.”

A growl emits from behind and captures its attention; as it turns, it is swiftly knocked off its feet as a white and black blur slams into its body and sends it flying into a cluster of tombstones. Absol lands on her paws with a growl as Ezra appears from behind the fountain, unharmed.

“Good job, Absol,” he murmurs, his eyes narrowing at the entity that struggles to get up. “Percutiet.”

Sending a talisman at its direction, the little paper automatically attaches itself to the entity’s head and administers a painful shock. The entity roars with pain briefly before erupting into a fit of hoarse, mocking laughter.

“I know it’s you, Spiritomb,” Ezra says. "Use Slash.”

Absol’s attack connects with a loud thump and all goes still. Shortly, a harrowing shriek of pain shatters the silence. Ezra recalls the talisman; it disappears into thin air in little wisps and the man sprawled over the tombstones grunts and groans as he sits up, rubbing his injured chest in agony.

“Huh? What…? Where am I? What happened…? Um, what am I doing here…?” he mutters, disoriented.

...

#jeralee #fic #fanfic #reader #reader insert #leon x reader #thank you!#leon x you #leon #dande #pkmn #pokemon #pokemonsword #pokemonshield #pokemonswordandshield #pokemonshieldsword #pokemonshieldandsword #Comfort in Despair #archive of our own

8 notes · View notes

visander · 3 years

Text

From the Dirt | Read on Ao3

When Meliorn dragged Jace back to the graveyard, Jace had no clue what he was getting himself into but in the end, he couldn't really complain.

A soft AU about Jace and Meliorn tending to a graveyard and loving each other.

Working in the Graveyard was hard work, harder work than most people assumed it was. When Jace came into town and was initially offered the job, even he’d underestimated it. He thought it would be easy but now, Jace knew it was anything but.

At the time, he’d been desperate for a place to stay. He had no money. He had no job. He had very few options available to him and he had no clue what he was going to do. That’s when Jace just happened to come across Meliorn, who’d gone into one of the shops to purchase some supplies and then come out and found Jace’s sorry form standing outside.

For some reason, Jace’s dirty tangled hair and exhausted face caught the man’s attention. Maybe, it had just been because the village they were in was fairly small and Jace was new but regardless of the reason why, Meliorn had paused and after a moment of staring at him, he asked where Jace had come from.

Jace had looked up, frowned for a moment and taken in the man’s long braided hair, the way his green and tan tunic was tied rather elegantly around his waist and even the delicate leaf, which had been painted onto the man’s cheek. He was beautiful and interesting - two things Jace didn’t believe he was at all and certainly not in the state he’d been in that day. Jace hadn’t understood why this man had found anything about him appealing enough to stop and speak to him.

“Away,” Jace murmured at last, his answer not particularly compelling or forthcoming.

Meliorn’s eyes had flickered up and then down Jace’s body before he’d hummed in response. “Well, do you have anywhere to stay, awayer?” Meliorn asked at last.

Jace shook his head no and without any other prompting, Meliorn shoved the bag he was carrying into Jace’s arms - a bag of heavy fertilizer that Jace struggled to shift in his grasp and hold tighter, so he wouldn’t drop it. “Come then,” Meliorn said before he was turning away to walk down the stone path, away from the shop he’d just left. “Maybe, you can be of assistance to me,” he called over his shoulder.

Jace didn’t know what else to do besides follow. It wasn’t as if he had anything better to be doing. “You didn’t introduce yourself,” Jace said, as he struggled to catch up to the man’s quick footsteps.

“Meliorn,” he’d replied without turning.

Meliorn- Jace repeated in his head. What an interesting and pretty name for such an interesting and pretty person. “I’m Jace,” Jace said, even though he hadn’t been asked.

Meliorn hummed softly, not even looking back and as Jace followed. For a moment, Jace wondered exactly what he was getting himself into and then, he wondered if there was anything he could be walking towards that would make him not follow someone as captivating as Meliorn.

Apparently, there wasn’t.

Meliorn led Jace to the edge of town, where there lay a big decrepit graveyard, with weeds overflowing onto the gravestones and a fence that looked as if it had been completely taken over by nature. Jace might think the graveyard was abandoned, if couldn’t see that some of the stones were new and some of the dirt from the plots was recently overturned.

Meliorn led Jace towards the back, where they came across a small stone building half buried in a hill. Meliorn pushed the door open and gestured for Jace to walk into the cold damp place. Jace had moved inside without thinking, even though the room deeply unsettled him. He felt as if he was about to be locked in the dark alone. He was thankful when Meliorn moved in behind him.

Meliorn closed the door and then in the complete darkness, he turned and lit a candle, lighting the room in a soft orange, flicking glow. Jace peered around, startled as hell when he found himself staring at dried blood that had been dripped across the floor and what was unmistakably a body laid out on a metal table, covered in a pale sheet that did nothing to hide the shape.

“That’s a body,” Jace said, shocked.

Meliorn didn’t even look over to him. “Yes,” he said simply, before he was pointing towards a corner, where Jace could see some other supplies. “Put the bag over there,” Meliorn commanded.

Jace finally ripped his eyes away from the body and moved to do as he was told, before turning back towards the strange man and frowning. “Why am I here?” He asked.

Meliorn had moved towards the body now and Jace paled when he saw the man unceremoniously pull the sheet down, revealing the body Jace had known was there but certainly hadn’t wanted to see. “You need a place to stay, right?” Meliorn called over his shoulder, as he poked at the body, checking for something Jace couldn’t guess at.

Jace nodded and then jolted to respond when he realized Meliorn wasn’t looking towards him. “Yes.”

Meliorn finally straightened out again, looking away from the body to glance back to Jace again. “Good, I need help and I have a spare bed. It all works out.” Meliorn tossed the sheet back over the body before he turned, wiping his hands on his pants as if to get rid of something. “Grab that,” Meliorn said, already moving towards the door.

Jace froze. “Grab what?” He asked after him, appalled and already knowing what Meliorn was talking about. He knew what Meliorn meant. He was just hoping he was wrong.

“You know,” Meliorn replied simply before he left the room, shining the bright light from outside in for a brief moment before the door was closing, leaving Jace alone with the body in the dark.

Jace jolted to grab the body, grimacing and trying desperately to keep the sheet covering it as he tossed it onto his shoulder and tried to pretend it was nothing but a bag of flour. Jace practically ran to the door, desperate to get outside into the light again.

Outside, Jace walked to Meliorn, who was now standing over an empty section of the graveyard. He froze a few steps away, still holding the body over his shoulder as he waited for some kind of instruction.

“Put that down,” Meliorn said simply, pointing to the ground. “Dig here, about five feet down or the animals will smell it. Tell me when you’re done. I have fruit trees to tend to.”

Meliorn turned without another word, starting to leave the cemetery and head up the road, towards a small cabin Jace could see in the distance. Outside, there were in fact blooming fruit trees, all surrounding a garden that seemed as if it was half crops and half flowers and weeds. It was over grown, out of control and much like the graveyard, it was untended and yet, everything there seemed to be thriving together.

Jace stood and watched him leave for a moment before he put the body down, flinching at the sound it made as it hit the ground. Jace reached for the shovel that was a few feet away and after a second of hesitation, he shoved the end into the dirt and started to dig.

That was the first day he ever worked in the graveyard and when he was done, hours later, he was dripping with sweat and covered in dirt but the body had been buried, just like Meliorn had asked. After, Jace made his way towards Meliorn’s cabin and hesitantly made his way inside, finding Meliorn standing in a small kitchen, washing the fruit he’d plucked in a bucket.

There was the smell of fresh baked bread and pie in the air, mixing with the smell of flowers that Jace could see blooming in every available space they could be. Meliorn turned to look at him, laughing softly when he saw how dirty Jace was.

“There’s a creek out back,” Meliorn said, already turning back towards his fruit. “Go clean up.”

Jace turned and walked back outside, making his way around the cabin and walking until he found the creek to wash himself in the cold water. After that, he just lived with Meliorn. He worked nearly everyday in the graveyard. Meliorn tended to their crops, made bread and pies, some for them to sell and some for them to eat, while Jace worked in the graveyard, burying bodies when they came, fixing the stones that needed it, carving out new grave markers and doing anything else that involve intense physical labor.

It wasn’t that Meliorn couldn’t do the physical labor. He’d done it all alone before Jace had come but now that Jace was there, Meliorn simply didn’t subject himself to it. He didn’t have to. He had Jace to do it and Jace couldn’t really complain. Meliorn gave him a place to sleep. He made delicious food and the man wasn’t bad company either.

Besides, Jace got over how freaked out he was by the bodies quickly and eventually, it became mundane to deal with them and lug them around like they were nothing. He’d lay bodies in their graves and then, he’d bug Meliorn to give him a bit of whatever he was cooking before he’d go clean up.

All and all, Jace could have found himself in a far worse situation, with people far less compelling than Meliorn was. It was only a bonus that Jace started to fall in love with Meliorn soon after and it was only a miracle that Meliorn returned the feeling, loving Jace like Jace didn’t think anyone ever had before.

Dealing with bodies all day was well worth it for that.

#shadowhunters #meliorn #Jace Herondale #jeliorn #my writing #me trying to post my stuff again #someday I will do it here consistently

6 notes · View notes

i-am-just-a-kiddo · 3 years

Text

2020 year in a review

thanks for tagging me @vishcount, eventhough you probably know all of these answers already. i don’t know if i am gonna do the other one, let’s see. tagging @the-cloud-whisperer, @sassyassassy, @intyalote as usual, if you have fun with this! I really tried to rank these amongst the top five, which was a personal challenge for me, so don’t take these rankings too seriously. my answers below the cut cause there is a novel incoming:

Top 5 Movies you saw this year

I don’t watch many movies in general, though I have seen quite a handful this year actually? I might have forgotten half of it already tbh

Moonlit Winter (2019) -I have been waiting to find this movie online for ages, so I was incredibly happy when I finally found it at the beginning of this year. It’s wonderful, heartbreaking and raw - about the relationship between mother and daughter, about lost queer love between the mother and her friend, about life in general. I cried buckets.

Parasite (2019) -do I have to say anything? I don’t think so, this movie defined many this year right?

The King and the Clown (2005) -pleasantly surprised by this one, it made me cry and sad and it’s not a happy gay story but it still touched me so much. also the production is amazing

Mulan (2009) -I rewatched this movie this year after hearing about the chaos that was Mulan 2020, and it still gets me; I don’t know what it is, but it might be the last part of the movie that always hits me like a train and I am back to thinking about it

Inside The Girls (2014) -not actually a good movie with a horrible name, but certainly interesting and had some potential?? I am listing it because I had a lot of fun watching it with my dear friend vish and it was fun sharing our opinions on that, but I don’t actually recommend it that much (unless of course you wanna see Cheng Yi and Yin Zheng in a movie together being assholes)

Top 5 TV shows you watched this year

I probably watched around 20 shows this year so picking this was hard somehow? I feel like I forgot some gems but I guess these are the ones that stood out to me

Nirvana In Fire (2015) -by far the best show I’ve seen in a long time. The plot, the characters, the production - it really blew me away. I can’t recommend it enough because I still cry about it.

Winter Begonia (2020) -Funny how I am listing this here so high considering the split opinions I have about this show but damnit, in the end it won me over. It was truly something else wow.

The Stranded (Netflix 2019) -Another surprise, but I just remembered this little show and it was so good? I really hope we will get a second season because I loved the first one and it was way too short. Also the production of this is so stunning, as well as the interesting set of characters.

Original Sin (2018) -This was a gem I discovered in the latter part of the year, mainly because of Yin Zheng, but when I watched it, it hit my mood perfectly. A crime show that has a beautiful atmosphere and is focused on characters. It has its faults and if you watch it for the cases and the plot, it’s not the most outstanding show but damnit, I watched it twice and loved it.

YYY: The Series (2020) -Amongst all these BL shows out there, this is my personal gem. It’s a wild ride of crack and sweetness, so enter at your own risk. let me just say I did not expect to bawl my eyes out at this tiny cracky show.

Top 5 songs of 2020

it really sucks having to choose only five songs but here I go from the huge amount of stuff I have listened to

Black Swan by BTS -this is pure art. in every way, it caters to my taste. I have nothing else to say except that it owns my soul. the visuals, the atmosphere, the music, the lyrics, the performance. it hits all marks and hurts me on a personal level.

Strange (feat. RM) by Agust D -this mixtape saved me and choosing my fave song from this was difficult but I guess I have to name this iconic collab. The lyrics of this are truly....something else. if you have time, please go check them out, as well as the entire mixtape.

Pain by Vaundy -I have been very obsessed with this song and this singer, he has my heart.

Rien à prouver by Yseult -again, I am just obsessed with this song and her voice, Yseult truly is a goddess to me at this point

Zombie by Day6 -perfectly captures my mind, my life and my state this year.

Top 5 books you read in 2020 I have only read two novels this year, everything else was either university stuff or poetry, so this is what I am mostly listing here.

Gyeongju. The Capital of Golden Silla by Sarah Milledge Nelson -I used this as my main source for one of my fics I wrote this year and it was perfect. I spent an intense week of only researching for this topic and had a blast; especially this book was a blessing because it gave a good overview of what life back then could have been like.

Call Down the Hawk by Maggie Stiefvater -one of the novels I read this year and I’ve been waiting for this for ages. Like the other books from TRC, I bingeread it on one day and adored it. Am excited for the rest of the trilogy and this new adventure!

Beyond The First Emperor’s Mausoleum: New Perspectives On Qin Art, edited by Liu Yang -I read this for one of my lectures and I thought it had very interesting essays, namely Archaeological Finds of the Maijiayuan Cemetery and Qin’s Interaction with Steppe Cultures by Wang Hui; and Qin Cosmography and the First Cosmic Capital - Xianyang by David W. Pankenier.

The Mongol Empire. Betweem Myth and Reality by Denise Aigle -another one I read for lectures and it was a good overview to the broad topic that is the Mongol Empire.

Night Sky With Exit Wounds by Ocean Vuong -I adore Vuong’s writing style so I hope to read more of his work. This is a beautiful, raw and honest work and I hope many more will read his book and the stories he has to tell.

+ Bonus: Affinity by Sarah Waters - wlw set in 19th century London; very dark and spooky and very fun to read if you like this sort of atmosphere (as I do).

5 positive things that happened in 2020

i managed to write and create a lot during the first half of this year, which i will treasure greatly. recently i have been struggling a lot - maybe it’s getting back on track now, but i guess i am still proud of all i managed to write/draw/other wise create this year.

amazing new flatmates joined our collective so i feel happy that we have this pleasant dynamic going on currently

i acquired some new housplants which have made me very happy this year, eventhough i struggle a little bit to keep them completely happy. am truly trying my best

i started taking medications for my depression, anxiety and social phobia in autumn and i think it was for the best. i still struggle from time to time but i truly feel a difference and i am glad this worked out mostly smoothly for me

in september we went on a short holiday in on the countryside and on the last night we all went outside to sit on the pier by a small pond. i will never forget this moment because after what felt like ages, i saw a crystal clear night sky. i haven’t seen so many stars in years and i could even see their reflections on the water, it was so magical and breathtaking. i think it was the one moment that still stands out from everything else. i just wish to return there, on my own, and just lie down for hours

anyway, if you have read through this rambling, i wish you a very happy new year and hope things will get better!!

#phew #am finally done with this #i did not expect this to take so long lol #but it's nice #tag game #2020 #personal

4 notes · View notes

patchwork-panda · 3 years

Text

If A Moment Is All We Are (36/?)

AO3 link HERE

S1 OP2 HERE

“Wait,” I sputtered, looking from the paper to the bandaged brunette. “They said they weren’t going to be able to get this to me until—”

“Well,” Dazai drawled, “the nice lady on the phone said that it sounded like your case was pretty urgent. So she sent it over a little early as a thank you for helping them close the CORVID case from last time.”

“So, it’s not really a present from you,” I deadpanned, lowering the page and shooting him a look.

“I still thought it would make you happy,” Dazai replied, shrugging.

He grinned.

“Did it?”

“Yeah...” I begrudgingly admitted, “it did. But it still doesn’t count.”

“Okay.”

And as he stuck his hands in his pockets and turned to go, I suddenly remembered there was something I needed to ask him.

“Dazai-san, wait.”

He stopped walking away immediately. However, as if sensing what I was about to ask, he didn’t turn around.

“I’m listening,” he said quietly.

I scrutinized him.

“About yesterday...” I started. “What did you and Kunikida-san talk about in the break room after I left?”

“Hmm, yesterday...” Dazai mused, rocking back a little on his heels. “Can’t recall.”

“You’re lying.”

“Am I?” he asked, tilting his head up so that he was looking at the ceiling instead of me. “And how would you know that? Were you listening in?”

I flinched.

“You’re not answering the question.”

“And neither are you.”

He began heading for the front door.

“Dazai-san—!”

“If you want to know what we talked about so badly,” he said at last, pausing with one half-bandaged hand on the door. “Then I would suggest speaking to Kunikida-kun himself about it. I did tell you yesterday, didn’t I?”

He opened the door and walked out.

“It was a private conversation.”

“Dazai—!” I called out.

But it was too late. The door had already closed.

It was no longer just Yosano. Now Dazai was pushing me to confess to Kunikida, too. Even though I wasn’t ready...

Frustrated and confused, I felt the note crumpling in my hand just a moment too late and I cursed under my breath as I stalked back to my desk to smooth it out again.

“To my dearest Shin-kun...”

I skimmed down the page until I got to the place where I’d left off reading yesterday.

“In several years time, you will be a history professor at your chosen university, lecturing starry-eyed students while your research papers make it into journals read all around the world. And not only that, but you’ll have Natsuki-chan, while I...”

I squinted at the page and smoothed out the creases one more time. This was where the note looked like it had been blurred with drops of water—Kei’s tears.

“I must complete the remainder of my journey in some other way.

You must know or have guessed by now that I was denied admission to the program in England. I knew it was going to be a long shot, but I still can’t describe to you the devastation I felt upon reading the rejection. It was foolish of me, I know, to have ignored your advice and refused to apply to other schools in Japan, but I felt I simply had to leave. My parents are no longer around and the remainder of my estranged relatives have long since moved abroad.

You are my only remaining family now and I cannot bear to taint your happiness any more than I already have. I feel as if I have been a burden to you for far too long already and now that your engagement to Natsuki has been formalized, I realize I have long since overstayed my welcome.

I have a confession to make, dear brother. A confession and an apology. I haven’t been able to look at you or Natsuki the same way again after the night you proposed to her. Sometimes, I wonder if you can see it, the regret, the range of emotions that I feel when I see you two together. I must confess that I have not been as happy for you as I said I was. I lied through my teeth when Natsuki asked me if I was alright and I have been lying to you both ever since.

I do not wish to harbor any more ill will towards the two of you. Not when neither of you have done anything wrong. Indeed, it was I who made mistakes—and far too many at this point to keep track of. I have no one but myself to blame for how things have turned out and it is all because I found myself too afraid to move forward with my life.

Shin, my brother, my friend...

Do not cry for me when I am gone.

Although I attended classes with you and stayed by your side as your roommate, I had been dying a little each day since the middle of the last semester. I have learned a most painful lesson—a lesson I hope you can learn through me and not have to experience for yourself.

Shin-kun...

In remembrance of our old days, I offer you one final piece of advice.

Do not let what has happened to me ever. EVER. happen to you.

I want you to understand that if you do not move with Life, it moves on without you. You become a shade of your former self, fading a little with each passing day until you are merely a breath in a body passing through the world.

Please, if you have any love left for your foolish elder brother, heed my advice and continue to live your life to the fullest. Leave me and my broken dreams behind and chase what is precious to you.

And now... now that there is only one thing left for me to do, I would like to make a request. One final, selfish request.”

I felt my lips moving along with my eyes as I read the last sentence aloud.

“Please... take good care of our beloved Natsuki.”

I lowered the page and let it rest on my desk.

“I’ll be seeing you.”

Our beloved Natsuki?

I thought back to the elegant woman I’d spoken to on the tree-lined path. I reached for the folder with all the photos taken at Kei’s apartment the night he’d killed himself.

That’s right, she, Shin and Kei were all friends at some point in time. From what the professor had told me that day at the cemetery, it sounded like he, and probably Kei as well, had met Natsuki after getting into the university.

Shaking the contents of the folder out on the table, I moved all the photos aside one by one until I found the one I was looking for.

That photo in Professor Matsuyama’s office—the photo of the three friends—must have been taken while Shin and Kei were grad students. Natsuki seemed to be at least four years younger than her husband, so there’s no way they could’ve all met as undergrads. Which means...

I placed the photo depicting the couch, table and TV stand in the center of the table and placed a magnifying glass over the set of pictures in the TV stand.

That photo was first displayed in Kei and Shin’s shared graduate housing apartment.

And as I placed the photo showing the TV stand next to the photo of Kei’s body sitting on the couch, I began connecting the dots.

Kei had been looking at that photo the moment he pulled the trigger. And given the way he had talked in the suicide note, I was absolutely sure of the reason why...

I placed Kei’s suicide note on top of the two photos.

Kei had been in love with Natsuki.

I bit my lip.

A love triangle. Was this the reason the professor felt so guilty about Kei’s death even though it was clear that the man had killed himself? Had they been fighting over Natsuki before the engagement was formalized?

A sharp ringing pierced the air and I looked to my bag to see my phone vibrating inside.

I picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Kusunoki-san?”

My eyes widened.

“Nomura-san...”

I glanced back down at the photos I’d just rearranged.

Good timing.

“Good morning. Are you calling to get an update about the case?”

“Ah, not quite...”

Nomura sounded hesitant. I could hear the sound of rustling leaves in the background.

“I’m sorry to call so early in the morning but I was hoping you could help with something.”

I raised an eyebrow.

Don’t tell me he’s going to ask me to tail the professor again?

“Uh, that depends...” I trailed off, my eyes momentarily flicking to the door. “Is it related to the case?”

“It is,” Nomura said, his voice momentarily cut off by static. “I was actually hoping you could...”

The rest of his words were lost in another burst of static.

I pulled the phone away from my ear for a moment and walked towards the nearest window.

“Hello? Nomura-san?” I half-shouted into the receiver, cringing a little as I caught the strange look from Tanizaki as he passed by in the background.

I smushed myself against the glass, pressing my phone as close to the window as I could.

“You’re breaking up. Can you say that again?”

“I was wondering if...!” Nomura’s voice returned, much clearer this time. I heard the crackling noises fade as the words finally burst from Nomura’s mouth:

“I was wondering if you could help me find the professor!”

I froze.

“What?”

“I said!” Nomura shouted, “Can you help me find the professor? He’s missing!!”

“Missing?” I stuttered. “What do you mean missing? Didn’t you just see him last night?”

“Well, yeah, but that was last night!” Nomura pressed. “I’m on campus right now. I went by his office to drop off some of his books but when I got there, it was locked. And when I peeked in the window, there was no one there—in fact, the whole room looked deserted!”

“Wait a minute,” I interrupted, “Nomura-san, why did you go to his office to return his books? Didn’t you know?”

“Know what?” Nomura asked, now sounding a little on edge.

“That yesterday was the professor’s last day?”

I gripped the phone more tightly in my hands.

“Weren’t you out at dinner last night because you were celebrating?”

“W-what?! No!”

I heard Nomura fumbling with the phone a little as he spoke.

“He just said he wanted to take Natsuki-san and me out for dinner last night. A-and that he had some more books he wanted to give me.”

“Books?”

My eyes settled upon the globe Professor Matsuyama had sent me. It rotated slightly on its squeaking axis as a small breeze wafted in from one of the open windows.

“Y-yeah,” Nomura continued, his voice hushed. “He said these were some of his favorites and that he wanted me to have them.”

Giving away his treasured things...

I chewed on my lip.

“Go on...”

“So, I figured since I still have a bunch of his things over at my dorm, I should return his old books before I got everything mixed up,” Nomura said. “And that’s when I realized there was no one at the office. Then, when I tried calling him just now...”

A sinking feeling bloomed in the pit of my gut.

“He... he didn’t answer.”

I didn’t speak. I just kept on chewing my lip as Nomura continued talking.

“Then, when I called Natsuki-san to see if maybe she knew where he might be, she didn’t pick up either. Kusunoki-san...”

The sinking feeling turned into a familiar gnawing sensation and once again, I found myself visualizing the professor standing in the graveyard before Kei’s headstone.

“...should I be worried?”

“L-let’s not jump to any conclusions just yet,” I said, sounding far more confident than I felt. “Maybe they just went out to run errands somewhere and couldn’t pick up? Or maybe they just didn’t hear...”

I started heading back to my desk, my eyes glued to the photographs and documents strewn across its surface.

“Why don’t you head over to their house? See if they’re there.”

Grabbing my jacket off its hook, I threw it on and started stuffing every last paper pertaining to the case into my bag.

“If they’re not there, call me and we’ll figure out what to do then.”

I think I might know where he is...

“I’m going to see if I can find him on my own.”

It’s just a hunch...

“O-okay,” Nomura said, still sounding just a touch nervous. “But... what if you can’t find him?”

A small, but unsteady grin came to my face.

But even if I’m wrong...

“You hired a member of the Armed Detective Agency, Nomura-san,” I said, slinging my bag over my shoulder. “Rest assured...”

I grabbed the doorknob and turned.

“I will do everything I can to find him.”

***

I closed the door to the taxi and turned towards the familiar set of gates up ahead.

The cemetery...

I gripped my bag a little tighter as I headed in, past the pair of marble angels flanking the entrance.

Honestly, I wasn’t all that confident that Professor Matsuyama was here; he could be out running errands or reading a book in a cafe.

But if he wanted to go somewhere quiet, somewhere no one else knew about so that he could have a private moment...

I paused in the middle of the grounds, shielding my eyes from the sun as I searched for the hilltop with the tree, the one on which S. Oda was buried.

Wouldn’t it make sense for him to come here?

Finding the hilltop at last, I stopped shielding my eyes and headed towards it.

Masaoka Kei... Matsuyama Shin’s best friend turned brother. Kei had met Shin in high school, lived with him as an adopted sibling and helped him with his studies. Thanks to that help, Shin had been able to attend a prestigious university for his undergraduate studies and eventually did so well in school that he actually surpassed Kei. Then, sometime during grad school, the two met and later fell in love with Natsuki.

I hiked my bag a little higher on my shoulder as I began ascending the hill.

By the end of grad school, Shin and Natsuki were engaged. Shin, having been accepted into his dream program, would go on to become Professor Matsuyama, while Kei, who was rejected from his, despaired that he no longer had any real place in the world and committed suicide.

I sighed.

Even without the added complication of a love triangle, it sounded like Kei had been dealing with a lot. It seemed unlikely to me that Kei had killed himself solely because he’d lost Natsuki to Shin, but if that was the case... why did it seem like Shin blamed himself for Kei’s death?

I frowned.

Actually, it seemed like both Kei and Shin blamed themselves for what happened. But why? Why did each of them act so guilty when it came to Natsuki and why had she chosen Shin instead of Kei?

And as I made it to the top of the hill and paused for a moment to take in the view, I thought I saw a familiar figure standing among the headstones... a figure in pale, cream colored clothes with long, wavy sand-colored hair...

I let out a gasp.

“Matsuyama... Natsuki?”

I ran to her.

“Matsuyama-san!”

She looked up at the sound of my voice, her dark brown eyes going wide with recognition as I finally came to a stop before her.

“Oh!”

She brought her hand to her lips as I dropped my bag on the ground and tried to catch my breath.

“You’re the girl I met on campus,” she said, bowing slightly as I tried to do the same. “Nomura-kun’s friend. What was your name again?”

“It’s Kusunoki,” I gasped, wiping the sweat off my forehead. “Nice to see you again, ma’am.”

“Likewise,” Natsuki said, smiling. “Now, what brings you here so early in the morning?”

She looked around at the graves.

“Are you here to visit someone?”

“Oh, uh...”

My eyes darted back towards the hillside, where S. Oda was buried.

“Kind of.”

I smiled.

“What about you?” I asked, noting the bouquet of bright yellow flowers in her hand.

I’d thought for sure that Natsuki didn’t know about the cemetery, given that the professor had asked me to keep his visits to Kei’s grave a secret from her.

Is she here alone?

“Who are you here to see?”

“Ah.”

Smiling wistfully, Natsuki turned towards Kei’s grave.

“I believe I told you about my old friend Kei the last time we spoke?”

No honorifics...?

I studied her.

That’s right. She hadn’t used honorifics that first time either.

“Y-yeah, you did,” I mumbled, watching as Natsuki knelt and placed the flowers—Adonis blossoms—on the marker on the ground.

“Well...”

She paused and lifted one hand to the name on the headstone.

“This is his grave,” she said, tracing the characters carved on the gleaming white surface with the tips of her fingers. “I try to come and visit him at least once a year, usually on his birthday, if I can, but this year...”

Her fingers dropped away from the last number on the right—the day Kei had killed himself, almost exactly fifteen years ago.

“Something came up and I had to settle for coming today instead.”

Natsuki turned to look me, her smile growing sheepish.

“I try to keep my visits here a secret from my husband, you see. He doesn’t like to talk about Kei...”

She lowered her eyes.

“I know that makes him sound like a cold person, not wanting to talk about someone he was once so close to, but that really couldn’t be further from the truth.”

Her smile softened.

“My husband is a kind, sensitive man and I know how much it hurts him to think about what happened. I believe the kindest thing I can do for him is to try not to mention it, even if I understand that this won’t lessen the pain or help him forget. Not that either of us could, even if we wanted to...”

She trailed off, staring ahead at the grave as a light ocean breeze wafted through the cemetery. The bright yellow petals of the Adonis flowers waved back and forth on the right side of Kei’s grave marker and as I moved a little closer to Natsuki, a spot of dull beige and white caught my eye.

I stopped in my tracks.

It was the bouquet of white chrysanthemums that Professor Matsuyama had left the other day. Natsuki had placed her flowers right next to his.

“I know my husband has been coming here to visit Kei without me,” Natsuki said quietly, her eyes focused on the two bouquets. “And I understand why. Kei’s death was devastating to him and I’m sure it still haunts him to this very day.”

Her words brought back the memory of the professor, standing in her place, his voice pitched up into an agonized cry of pain...

“That’s why,” she continued, closing her eyes at last, “I don’t say anything and pretend I don’t know about his visits. And why I come here to visit Kei on my own instead.”

“So then, Professor Matsuyama...”

“He’s at home,” Natsuki said. “He said he wanted to be alone for a while and so, I decided to come here after running my errands.”

I couldn’t help breathing a sigh of relief.

“I... I see.”

Thank God. Then Nomura should be able to find him and stay with him. In that case, maybe he was going to be alright.

“I wish,” Natsuki murmured, “more than anything, that he and I could just talk about it, about the things that happened fifteen years ago. But I don’t think he’ll ever do it. I think talking to me about Kei just makes him feel unbearably guilty. Not to mention...”

Her smile grew smaller and disappeared.

“...insecure.”

I felt my breath catch in my throat.

“Matsuyama-san...”

I gripped my bag tightly as she continued to kneel there, silently gazing at Kei’s grave.

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked, as another soft breeze wafted through the graveyard.

“Because...”

The breeze picked up into a full gust of wind and as I wrapped my arms around my body, Natsuki looked up at last.

“You remind me of myself from fifteen years ago.”

I froze.

“What?”

“I know,” she said, her voice breaking with the barest traces of a laugh. “It sounds crazy. I don’t even understand it myself but there’s just something about you, something familiar.”

Taking a handkerchief out of her pocket, she dabbed at her reddened eyes and nose. Even with her mascara running and her face slightly blotchy from crying, she still looked so elegant...

I tucked a lock of choppy black hair behind my ear as the wind picked back up.

How could someone like me remind her of herself?

“For some reason,” Natsuki laughed, glancing up at me from her place before Kei’s grave, “I feel as if by talking to you, I’m talking to myself from fifteen years ago and if I can tell you what I wish I’d known back then—”

She paused to wipe the tears from her eyes as they fell.

“Then perhaps all of this could have been avoided. Perhaps if I’d decided to become Masaoka-san instead of Matsuyama-san, Kei would still be here.”

Her lower lip trembled.

“But then again,” she sobbed. “If I’d done that, what if that means I’d be kneeling here in front of Shin’s grave instead?”

My bag fell to the ground.

“Matsuyama-san...”

I dropped to my knees next to her.

“What are you saying?”

Natsuki sniffled again. I waited for a moment as she blew her nose and slowly calmed down.

“I think...” she said quietly, her voice so soft I could barely hear it above the rustling trees. “Rather than listening to any clumsy explanation of mine.”

Her hand went to the pocket of her dress, from which she carefully drew out a thin set of folded papers, which were slightly wrinkled and just a touch yellowed with age.

“It would be easiest to let Kei explain it to you himself.”

And as she slowly held it out to me, I realized that her hand was shaking.

“Matsuyama-san...”

My eyes flicked from the paper to the woman holding it.

“W-what is this?”

“A letter,” Natsuki said simply. “Written by Kei and addressed to me. I got it about a week after he died. My husband... Shin... doesn’t know about it. It was sent directly to me at my dorm. Not even the roommate I lived with knows it exists.”

The tears began to fall again.

“I think if you read it, you’ll understand.”

“Are... are you sure?” I asked, glancing from her to the paper and back. “It seems so personal.”

Natsuki nodded.

“Yes. It would feel like a relief for someone to finally know my secret at last.”

“I feel a bit better after talking to you...”

I could almost hear Professor Matsuyama’s voice floating back to me on the sea breeze.

“Knowing that Nomura-kun will at least know my shame after all these years... However...”

I watched as Natsuki dabbed at her eyes yet again, her eyelashes sparkling with tears.

“I’d like to remind you to please, please keep what I’ve said to you from my wife. If she were to find out how horribly I have wronged Kei...”

I sighed.

How ironic...

Lifting my hand, I reached for the letter.

If only the two of them—no, maybe the three of them—had been able to talk more openly with one another, all of this could’ve been avoided.

I took the letter from Natsuki and began to read.

“To Natsuki-san:

I hope this letter finds you well. If you are reading this, then that means I’ve followed through on my plans to end my life and have departed this world for the next.

I know this must seem like a great shock, getting a letter from a dead man, but I’m not sending this letter in order to scare you... I’m sending this because I feel I owe you an explanation.

I’m not sure how much Shin-kun has told you about my situation but as you can probably guess, it wasn’t good. Truth be told, I’d been planning to leave the country for ages and against Shin’s warnings, I’d stacked all my hopes and dreams on it. I was hoping to make a new life for myself in England, to start over and finally make something of myself but... I failed. I was foolish enough to not have any backup plans so that when the whole situation fell through, I didn’t have any idea what to do.

My first thought was to ask you and Shin-kun for help. I thought perhaps if the three of us could continue on in the way we had, then I could find a way through. But then... everything changed. And I realized I could not find it in me to impose upon you any longer.”

He must be referring to the engagement...

I glanced over the letter at Natsuki, to see if she was watching me but she just continued to sit there quietly with her eyes closed, her lips moving as if reciting the contents of the letter from memory.

I kept reading.

“That’s why I avoided you both for the next several days. It wasn’t that I was upset with either of you or that the two of you had done anything wrong.

No, more than anything... I was upset at myself.

I was so focused on trying to carve out a place for myself in a new country, in the far future that I completely failed to notice what was happening right in front of me. I could see that my feelings for you were slowly changing from those of friendship to something more but I couldn’t find it in me to admit it to myself. In a moment of confusion, I tried talking to Shin about it a short time ago. But I’m afraid that the conversation did not go the way I had planned. Rather than allowing him to advise me on what to do, the conversation we had only made him realize that he, too, had long since fallen head over heels for you.

And how could he not?

Shimomura Natsuki, you are... kind, intelligent, beautiful and generous. I understood the danger I was in from the first moment I laid eyes on you but I paid those feelings no mind. Getting to know you and spend time with you were among the greatest joys of my life. Even now, I would not trade those days away for anything.

But those days are now past.

You’ve chosen Shin, my best friend and brother, the man I love above all others and I couldn’t be more understanding of your choice. I’m so proud of him and how far he has come and after my rejection letter came, I understood that I could not give you the happy, comfortable life that he would be able to provide.

I thought... that it would be best for me to depart for the next life with no one but the gods knowing my secret. But then I realized that I couldn’t bear to hide the truth from you any longer.

Natsuki-san...

You must have guessed by now what my secret is. I fear Shin may have guessed it as well but I sincerely hope he hasn’t. It would tear him up inside to know that my feelings for you are the same as his and I fear he may blame himself if he knew.

I do not want that.

I do not want either of you to blame yourselves for what has happened to me. What I want... is for the two of you to have the longest and happiest of marriages and as many pets, children and grandchildren as you could possibly want. I want you to leave your old friend Kei behind in the past, where he belongs and continue on to a brighter future.

Take care of my brother for me.

I leave you with love,

Masaoka Kei.”

I lowered the pages.

“This is a goodbye letter...” I whispered, glancing over it at the woman kneeling beside me at the grave.

“And a confession.”

Natsuki nodded and blew her nose yet again. I felt my heart twinge at the sight of her blotchy face and I wanted nothing more than to reach out and comfort her. But instead, I just held the letter back out and sat there silently as she took it and put it back into her pocket.

Poor Natsuki...

I bit my lip, watching as the silent tears continued to drip down Natsuki’s face.

Caught between two men who both loved her and that she loved in return...

I don’t know what I would’ve done if I’d been in such a situation.

“Thank you,” I mumbled, staring at the cobblestones between us. “For sharing that with me.”

“No,” Natsuki said, shaking her head. “Thank you for sharing my secret. It’s been fifteen years... fifteen years and one week since Kei died. I know what he said in the letter but.”

She let out a shaky breath.

“I can’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if I had chosen him instead. It’s not that I didn’t like him, you know.”

She cracked a small smile.

“He was so tall, and so handsome. I loved the way he laughed and more than once I wondered if I should pluck up the guts to ask him out.”

“Kusunoki...”

My hands twisted in my lap.

Something about the way she spoke suddenly made me think of Kunikida...

“But he and Shin were so close,” she continued. “I was afraid of making things awkward if my feelings were to become known. So, I kept them to myself. Then, during his last year of school, Kei began pulling away from me. He... He kept talking about moving away to England and starting over and I...”

She sighed.

“I was so upset that I cried for a week. I thought maybe he’d figured me out and wanted to reject me kindly. But then, I started spending more time with Shin. And I began to fall for him instead...”

She looked away. I thought I saw the traces of a blush coloring her cheeks.

“He was so kind to me. And so full of energy. I could see that he was the kind of man who knew what he wanted and where he wanted to be in life and before I knew it, we were engaged.”

Smiling a little, she lifted her left hand up to her face. The bright morning sun caught on her finger and I found myself looking at an absolutely breathtaking opal ring shining on her ring finger.

“Shin bought this for me with some money he borrowed from his parents,” she said, noticing my eyes on it. “He said opals represented love and hope in Ancient Rome and he wanted to get me something that could symbolize a bright future together.”

“That was very sweet,” I said, returning her smile. “I can see why you chose him.”

Natsuki nodded.

“You can, can’t you?”

The low notes of a ship’s horn sounded from far in the distance, across the bay and as I turned towards the water, the older woman stood.

“Thank you for listening to my story, Kusunoki-san,” Natsuki said, tucking a strand of long, sandy hair behind her ear. “I appreciate your being here to comfort a foolish woman in her moment of weakness.”

Her smile grew.

“I wonder if this may be part of why my husband spends so much time talking to Nomura-kun about history. Sometimes it’s nice to speak of the past to someone younger, someone who still has much to do and may perhaps benefit from the lessons of a bygone era. Perhaps...”

She turned slightly, facing the water as well, and I watched as the breeze lifted through her long hair and the sunlight brightened her face.

Natsuki’s smile softened as she glanced back at me.

“Perhaps it’s time to revisit the idea of adopting children with Shin...”

Having children... with the man you love...

Without warning, the image of tall, blonde Kunikida returned.

My face began to burn.

“Th-that sounds nice,” I mumbled, turning away.

Great, now I’m thinking about Kunikida again...

My heart sank at the thought of the man as I’d last seen him, sitting alone in the middle of the training room floor, his back to me and his face in his hands.

Was he still mad at me?

“It does, doesn’t it?” Natsuki said, beaming. “I hope that the two of you can find happiness someday too, whoever it is you’re thinking about.”

“Huh?!”

I spun and gawked at her as she brought a hand up to her mouth and giggled.

“Forgive me,” she laughed, her hand still covering her mouth. “It’s just... the look on your face. It’s clear you’re thinking about someone special to you the way Shin is special to me—”

“Ahh, let’s not talk about that,” I stammered, diving for my bag so I wouldn’t have to see the amused expression on Natsuki’s face any longer. “I should probably get going. I don’t even know what time it is—”

“Oh, yes, I’m so sorry!” Natsuki gasped, bowing quickly in apology. “I didn’t mean to keep you from your busy schedule.”

“N-no, it’s okay,” I insisted, finding my phone at last. “I was just going to meet up with Nomura-kun, see if he’d found—”

I stopped talking immediately, realizing what it was I’d almost said.

That’s right, the professor...!

I flipped open my phone.

I’d been here for almost forty minutes and there were no missed calls.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

If that was the case, then maybe Nomura had found Professor Matsuyama. I’d specifically told him to call me only if he couldn’t find the man...

“Nomura-kun?” Natsuki said, tapping her chin. “Ah, if you need to call him, you should probably go beyond that big tree on the hill.”

She took out her own phone and held it up so that I could see it.

“I’m afraid there’s really no signal once you’re out past that point,” she said apologetically.

“Ah...”

I felt a subtle tightening in my stomach as I nodded.

“Right, thanks for telling me.”

“No problem. I’m going to stay here for a little while longer but, please say hi to Nomura-kun for me.”

She bowed again and I did the same.

“I will, thank you for everything, Natsuki-san.”

“No...”

Natsuki turned back towards Kei’s grave.

“Thank you...”

***

So the mystery was solved...

I kept my eyes on my phone as I walked up the path and headed past the tree on the hill.

Professor Matsuyama had figured out that his best friend Kei was in love with Natsuki, same as him. And yet, because he’d asked Natsuki to marry him and she’d said yes, he thought he’d taken Natsuki away from Kei and in doing so, had inadvertently killed his friend. Sure, there was a lot going on in Kei’s mind and in his life, but in the professor’s mind, this must’ve been the final straw.

This was why he blamed himself for Kei’s death.

Hmm... I probably should’ve taken a picture of the letter but that would’ve looked a little too suspicious.

I sighed, watching the bars on my phone begin to go up as I continued up the stairs.

Lack of communication, huh? What if the three of them had been more honest with each other fifteen years ago? Would the result have been, as Natsuki wondered, her marrying Kei and then Shin killing himself instead of Kei? Did both brothers have suicidal tendencies even then?

Speaking of which...

I stopped at the top of the hill, near S. Oda’s grave as all five bars on my phone finally appeared.

I wonder if Nomura found the professor yet?

And just as the thought finished echoing in my head, the first notification appeared: a text message from Nomura.

“W-what?!”

I nearly dropped my phone as notification after notification rocked my phone, the tiny device beeping and buzzing as they kept coming, message after message, all from Nomura. I went to the message center and opened up the first one so I could read them in order.

“Kusunoki-san,” the first one read. “I made it to the professor’s house pretty quick but it doesn’t look like there’s anyone here. I’m going to try ringing the doorbell and waiting a little longer.”

The next one read: “While I was waiting, I suddenly remembered that the professor had told me where they kept a spare key, in case of emergencies. I’m going to look for it.”

I clicked “next.”

“I found it! I’m going in through the back.”

I’d just finished reading it when a flash of red caught my eye. I looked to my phone app and gasped.

“Ten missed calls?!”

I clicked “play” on my voicemail and held the phone to my ear, my stomach suddenly churning with nerves.

“Kusunoki-san!” Nomura’s voice came through, the patchiness of the static unable to hide the sheer panic in his voice. “I don’t know where you went but please, please pick up! I can’t find the professor but I found something else! He—he left a message on his kitchen table for his wife...! He—”

** A loud clattering went through the receiver and I realized with a start that Nomura had dropped the phone. The line clicked dead but the next message began to play almost instantly.

“Kusunoki-san, it’s me again, Nomura—”

He sounds like he’s on the verge of tears...!

“I—I read the letter! I need to bring it to you and show you but, oh, God—”

I had to strain to hear his next words through what sounded like a choked sob.

“It’s a suicide note...! He says—”

I sank to my knees and let the phone drop to the ground. It bounced along the cobblestones with a sharp clattering noise, Nomura’s panicked shouts echoing through the air.

“He says he’s going to kill himself!”

***

ED HERE

#bsd #fanfiction #dazai x oc #kunikida x oc

2 notes · View notes

of-a-chaotic-mind · 4 years

Text

Dean Winchester Masterlist

🖤 = 100+ Notes

❤️️ = 200+ Notes

Series:

Big Sister (This one is hard to explain but it’s got Dean x Reader elements but that’s not the main focus. It’s mostly reader x platonic!Jo Harvelle, the reader is basically like an older sister to Jo.) || Completed

- Part 1 || Jo goes on a hunt with (Y/n), Dean, and Sam after her mother told her not to. (Y/n) had worked it out with Ellen and had almost negotiated taking Jo hunting with her. Jo’s stunt blows that out of the water but (Y/n) still has hope.

- Part 2 || (Y/n) and Jo’s first case seems simple enough. Unfortunately, the bones were buried in a cemetery with security.

- Part 3 || Sam and Dean, mostly Dean, save the day with money for bail.

Obsessively Protective || Completed

- Part 1 || Dean is super protective of Reader who ends up taking a risk and catching heat for it.

- Part 2 || Reader and Dean make up after the fight they had the night before and come to a compromise about future cases.

Memories || Completed

- Part 1 || Female!Reader is stabbed by shapeshifter!Dean and on the way to the hospital, actual Dean tells her all his favorite memories of them to keep her awake.

- Part 2 || After returning home from the hospital, Reader’s stitched up wound gets infected. Dean takes her to the hospital to get it all sorted out and then treats her to all her favorite foods and her favorite movie.

Imagines and Drabbles:

Stay || The reader stops at a bar on her way home from a case, but runs into Sam and Dean Winchester. She and Dean have history. 🖤

Cherry Pie || The reader has had a crush on Dean Winchester since she was 12. She’s stopped in to stay with Ellen and Jo for a bit and finds out the Winchester boys are stopping in on the same day. Jo insists that she try hard to impress Dean but the reader doesn’t want to be that obvious. Jo takes matters into her own hands and plays the reader’s wing-woman for the evening.

Miss “In Charge” || The reader gives John Winchester a piece of her mind but simply gets complimented for it.

The Doctor Is In || Your hospital keeps getting victims with strange wounds. You call Dean and Sam because you think it may be something in their field. 🖤

Not The Same || The reader watches the love of her life, Dean, die to the hellhound. Upon Dean’s return, he finds his girl is not the same anymore. She’s a little more broken and a little more tarnished.

Gym (Drabble) || Dean joins Sam and the reader at the gym. ❤️️

Promise || Demon!Dean is cured but what will happen to his queen?

Pine Trees and Boomer || Something is wrong with Baby and she won’t start. They have an urgent case they need to get to so the Winchester brothers agree to take the reader’s car. 🖤

Sister, Sister || Dean finds that the girl he has grown to love is stronger and more powerful than he thought. Who could she be?

Her || Demon!Dean is protective over Reader and reassures her that she’s just want he wants.

Relentless || Once Dean finally convinces Reader to go out with him, they have a few dates. However, their relationship is soon put on pause because of John. All is well in the end though.

Heavy is the Weight || Reader comforts Dean as the weight begins to take its toll on him.

Baby? || A witch has turned Baby into a human. This human happens to have a thing for the Reader who is dating Dean and maybe even a little thing for Dean.

Witch’s Wrath || Sam and Dean get turned into dogs during a case so Platonic!Reader mind melds with them so they can finish the case.

Keep Baby Happy || Dean and Reader surprise everyone at Harvelle’s with something they learned during their free time at the bunker.

Guilt || Sam, Dean, and Reader are kidnapped by the son of an old hunting colleague.

Worth || Reader jumps in front of a bullet for Sammy because she doubts her worth. This throws Dean into a whirlwind of emotions and he eventually realizes that he should tell her how he feels about her. 🖤

Buried Alive || Reader wakes up buried in a coffin, Dean, Sam, Cas, and Jack make it to her just in time.

Party Gone Wrong || While at a party on the hunt for a ghoul, Reader gets trapped under a chunk of ceiling after a couple of explosions.

Take Me Instead || Female!Reader gets caught by vampires on a case but Sam, Dean, and Cas arrive to save the day. 🖤

Crisis Averted || Shit hits the fan after Dean finds out that Platonic!Reader and Sam have slept together. Crisis is averted once Reader has a chat with Dean about it.

Stupid || Reader gets hurt on a hunt but doesn’t tell the Sam and Dean about it. They only find out because she passes out as soon as she steps out of the car.🖤

Life After Losing Him || Platonic!Reader x Sam and Dean Winchester (mostly Dean tbh) || Reader goes about their new daily life but soon runs into the best friend they had lost several months prior.

I Forgot My Own Birthday || Reader forgot about their birthday but Dean and Sam managed to remember and surprise them with cake and gifts.

Infection & Affection || Dean and Reader hole up in an abandoned house as a storm starts raging. The Readers stab wound soon becomes infected which leads to Reader and Dean admitting their feelings for each other.

Get Away Car || Reader finally explains some things to Dean and enlists him to help them with it.

Headcanons:

Dean & Sam Dating a Black Girl Headcanon

Being the Gen Z Child of Dean, Sam, & Cas Headcanon

Ranting about favorite Netflix show to Dean, Sam, and Cas Headcanon

#dean winchester masterlist #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester imagines #dean winchester drabbles #dean winchester drabble #dean winchester oneshot #dean winchester oneshots #dean winchester series #supernatural #masterlist of a chaotic mind

64 notes · View notes

salamanderskin · 4 years

Text

Detail Study (Critical Role, Caduceus)

Caduceus isn’t feeling well. Jester takes advantage to explore an interest of hers and help out a friend. (aka Salamander projecting onto characters who are sweet, somewhat innocent and not bothered by what other people think is weird.)

Detail Study

Jester loves to draw and she loves to draw her friends most of all. Since moving into their shared house it has been easier than ever, so her sketchbook is filled with sketches of each of them. Some comic, some serious, all done with love and attention to detail.

Increasingly, she has been turning her attention to the newest member of the party. All her friends are beautiful in her eyes, but they are all approximately humanoid in their features, more (the actual humans) or less (Nott). Caduceus Clay is another matter entirely. She has never known a firbolg well enough to sit and stare and sketch. She longs to sit and let her pencil understand his long, silken ears, the broad, animal planes of his face and his neat little nose. It is pinkish and rough with slit nostrils and a fine line from philtrum to lip- almost like Frumpkin the cat's but not quite. She is yet to sketch it to her satisfaction but when they are not out on adventures Caduceus seems to value his time alone, and she hasn't plucked up the courage to ask him to sit for her.

Opportunity knocks unexpectedly on a rainy day.

Jester sits in the kitchen, dipping a pastry in her milk and watching the others of the Mighty Nein emerge from their rooms to join her at the table. There were battles yesterday and drinking last night, so today there are stiff limbs and hangovers. No hangover for herself, which always makes her a little smug, and Caduceus doesn't drink either so why hasn't he come for breakfast yet?

When he does make it downstairs, he looks as worse for wear as any of them. He used every drop of his magic yesterday and judging from the slump of his shoulders he hasn't recovered yet. His lanky frame is draped with a thick shawl while his cow-like ears droop down sadly. Even his beautiful pink hair seems less vibrant than usual. He announces himself with a fit of husky, ticklish coughing that makes everyone turn their heads.

“'Duceus sounds like shit.” Beau observes to the group at large.

When Caduceus folds himself into a chair but neither speaks nor even reaches for a cup of tea, Fjord leans over to put a hand on his arm. “Hey, are you, uh, doing okay?”

Caduceus clears his throat and sighs. “Oh hey. No, I'm afraid not feeling too well.”

“Do you need some healing? Or I have probably have a potion.” Jester suggests.

“That'd be-- - chsch’ue!

He hesitates and turns his head suddenly to sneeze over his shoulder. He recovers with a soft little sound that makes Jester's heart hurt and finishes, “that's really kind but it's just a sniffle. I don't find magic works too well for those.”

“Actually that's true.” She agrees solemnly. “If it gets really really bad and you get a high fever or you have a lot of pain then I can try, but otherwise it's a waste of a spell. Sorry.”

“Don't be sorry. I think I'll just rest today and wait for it to pass.”

With that in mind. when the rest of them decide to head out into town, there is a (rare) unanimous decision to leave Caduceus at home in the warm.

Fjord pats him kindly on the shoulder on the way out of the door and then reaches a hand to smooth Caduceus' hair from his brow, eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Well I don't think you have a temperature. I'd suggest that you drink lots of tea but I know you will.”

Jester is packing her things into her magical backpack, but looks up for this little exchange. This opportunity is too good to miss.

“I'm going to stay home and take care of Caduceus!” She announces.

“Does Caduceus get a say in the matter?” Caleb asks wryly.

“Nope.”

“That's nice.” Caduceus agrees. “I'm going to make some tea to help me shake this, but you're welcome to have some, Jester.”

“See, it's all settled. Have fun you guys.” She ushers them out of the door and into the rainy street with a smile.

When they have the house to themselves, Caduceus disappears up to his rooftop garden and returns with a handful of herbs to make himself one of his healing teas. Jester herself settles into her favourite spot on the sofa and tucks her legs under herself to watch him. He can't seem to keep his hands from his nose as he potters around the kitchen- sniffling and rubbing, blowing his nose or pinching it roughly. As the water boils, his breath gets quick and chaotic for another sneeze.

“hk—chsch’ue!”

“Bless you.”

“-chsch’ue!”

There is something very endearing about the big, earnest firbolg and his surprisingly soft sneezes. There is very little sound but they make his shoulders shrug and his head bob fiercely, like a cat shaking off water.

And here comes another- his brows arch in hesitation and he manages to mutter a “S'cuse me-” before tipping forward into the handkerchief again.

“Aww, bless you,” she croons fondly. “You know, because you're so tall I expected you to have a really loud sneeze, like Fjord. Or Yasha. But it's just little and soft.”

“Doesn't feel little.” He groans.

“Well it's very cute.”

“Good?” He shrugs, perplexed but pleased, and returns to worrying under his nose with another handkerchief.

Now seems as good a time as any to ask the question, so-

“Caduceus, can I draw you?”

“Don't you draw me all the time, and everyone else?”

“No, I mean, since you're not doing anything and I really, really want to draw you, could you sit somewhere in the light and sit really still for me to draw you? Please?”

He considers this and nods. “Of course I can. So long as I can take my tea with me. I'm very good at sitting still.” Well, that was easy.

Happiness bubbles in Jester's stomach as she directs the tall firbolg into the windowseat where he can rest his cup on the sill. The grey light from outside is still enough to illuminate his hair from behind, bringing out the rich rose tone of it. It also brings out the shadows under his eyes and the raw hue of his poor nose, which he rubs at ruefully as she guides him into place. She spots him shivering and adds a throw blanket over his knees.

“That's perfect. Just stay like that, okay?” She gives him a kiss to the crown of his head and sits in front of him with her sketchbook open.

Caduceus sits still, almost slipping into meditation to the gentle sound of pencil on paper. She has fixed him to gaze towards the window, but he can make her out as a blue blur at the corner of his vision. She seems so happy. That's nice. He would be perfectly content if it wasn’t for the irritation of his throat and nose. He sneaks a hand up to rub it and manages a few passes before his artist objects-

“Hey, you have to hold still so I can draw your properly.” “I'm sorry, Jester. Bit of an itch in my nose.”

“Well don't scratch it.” She says.

Caduceus duly tries. His philosophy is to help people however he can and if that was what Jester wants he will comply. It is easy at first but grows rapidly more difficult as his nose starts to drip. He can feel the moisture tracking into the soft, velvet fur under his nostrils. It is desperately ticklish.

“Can I move now?” He pleads, his voice breathy and helpless.

“Wait for-” his companion begins, but before she could finish, Caduceus tips forward with a whippish sneeze.

“heh--- MPShh!”

He manages to direct it over his shoulder and recovers with a quick, wet sniffle.

“Bless you, bless you.” Jester tuts and reaches to rearrange him back into his former position. She begins sketching again, tilting her head at different angles and humming with satisfaction as she works.

He dutifully holds the pose for a long as he can before his cold catches up with him again in another, “MPSH-shue!” The sound is soft but emphatic.

“Bless you.”

“S'cuse m-eh-” His bass voice topples into a wordless, needy sound and he cups his hands hastily over his mouth and nose for another.

“Bless you!”

His sniffling is becoming increasingly damp, threatening to spill over his upper lip, and he presses the back of a hand there as he rummages in his pockets for a handkerchief. He gives a series of short blows but his sinuses immediately flood again, whilst the pressure makes his forehead spike with pain.

“That didn't feel good.” He says aloud, half to himself.

His teifling companion has been watching him, spellbound, but at this she makes a concerned noise and puts down her sketchpad. Jester crosses the room in a few light steps and alights on the side of his armchair to give him a hug.

“Poor 'Duceus. I thought you were okay earlier but now you sound really crappy.”

He sniffles in response, which turned into a little cough that makes him push his fingers under his eyes against the ache. When he opens them, her expression is so worried and sad that he laughs in spite of it all.

“It's really nothing. It's what you get when you live in a magically heated cemetery your whole life and then you mingle with lots of new people, I suppose. It's not so bad apart from my head, when I move too fast.”

She nodded understanding and snuggled in tighter, wrapping her arms around his torso as high up as she can reach.

“Do you want me to rub your head? That's what my momma would do for me when I had a headache.”

“I-” images of his own family gathered around flash in front of him and leave him feeling sad and strange. “Yes please. That would be nice.”

It takes a few moments for them to find a way to settle. The sofa is only just long enough for his to lay out on, so it takes some comedic shunting to him comfortable with Jester sitting upright and his head in her lap on a pillow, angled to help him breathe. Once there he lies quietly, sniffling and looking up at her with his eyes glowing like pink sapphires.

She has not known any of his species apart from Nila and Pumat(s) Sol, and she can't imagine either of them letting her indulge her curiosity this way. She starts tamely enough- smoothing her fingers through his hair and rubbing circles into the shaved sides his head. When he does not object, her fingers migrate to his large ears. They are rounded like a cow's but more delicate by far. She has never pet a deer but this is how she imagines it might be. When she digs into the hollows in front, where she assumes his sinuses must meet his ear canal, he groans with pleasure, sniffles a little and seems to breathe more easily.

This also gives her an excellent view of his fascinating nose. His nostrils are thin and tear shaped, and she can see them flaring ticklishly when he sniffles. They are always a delicate rose pink, but right now they look irritated and chapped. Poor thing. First she runs her fingers down the sides of his nose, feeling the short fur on the bridge of it get finer across his cheeks.

Emboldened by his lack of protest, she smooths up the bridge itself as though petting a large cat. Finally, fascinated, her fingers drift to his nostrils and trace the hairline crack that divides his upper lip.

That, at last, is too much. His whole nose twitches in irritation and a large hand reaches up to grip her wrist.

“Maybe not there, Miss Jester.”

“Oh, I'm sorry. Was that too personal?”

“It’s not that.” He sits up out of her lap and blinks at the ceiling with round, wet eyes. She can see tears gathered on his long lashes. “I thought I was gonna sneeze. Maybe...hhhh...”

He turns away from her abruptly, draws a mammoth breath in and... nothing.

“Ugh, it's gone. That's really frustrating.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Not your fault I think.” He mumbles, distracted.

The soothing spell of the moment before is truly broken as Caduceus raises himself to a sitting position and sniffles woefully. His broad hands are cupped against his face but nothing happens.

Jester feel something as she watches him squint and shiver ticklishly. It is novel to see him so helpless against something so small, to watch him when he too distracted by his own body to watch her, that gives her a feeling of guilty power.

“Caduceus?” She asks slyly. “Do you honestly, really really want to sneeze?”

“Yes. Honestly.”

“And that wasn't too personal, what I was doing before?”

“No.”

An idea is forming. “Okay, you sit there for oooooone second.”

She darts back to her journal and the set of paint beside them, and returns moments later with a slim, fine-tipped paintbrush. She tests the edge against her fingertip and feels the firm, soft edge. That should do nicely.

“What- sniff- what are you-?” Caduceus manages. He hushes when she sits cross legged in his lap and takes his jaw in both her hands, tilting her head to him. She has a truly excellent view of his nose now. His lovely hair is swept back and can admire the animal line of the bridge of his contrasted with his strong human jaw.

“Shhhh. Just trust me, Okay. I’m going to make you feel so much better,”she promises, and touches underneath his nose with the end of the brush.

The firbolg flinches away reflexively and then leans back in when he realises what she is doing and that it isn’t painful, just a little weird and impossibly tickly.

“Is that working?” Jester inquires, half to hear him to try to speak.

“No— wait, yes—“ his breathing becomes rapid and shallow. But he still hovers, as sniffling and itchy and miserable, just with tears tracking down through his fur and a blush rising to match his hair.

In a moment of boldness, Jester slips the brush just inside one of his nostrils and traces a tiny circle. This time the reaction is immediate. Caduceus pushes her off his lap in his haste to turn away and tuck a handkerchief over his face

“-uh-CHSch-ue! CHSch-ue!”

There. Still not loud but it’s emphatic enough that when he raises his head he doesn’t look so irritated anymore, just tired and kind of hazy. The wet sheen in his eyes makes Jester’s always-soft heart melt at once. Now that the moment has passed she feels a little guilty for putting him through it.

“Does that feel better at least?”

He considers and nods. “Yeah. Yeah, it does actually. It was just- sniff- it was a lot.”

She comes to sit by his side and settles her arms around him in an embrace. He is tall enough that his relaxed response settles his head on top of hers. She can feel his breath ruffle her hair as he sighs heavily.

“Do you think that was maybe a bit weird?” She wonders aloud.

“I’m not the best judge.” “That’s true. Just a little bit of weirdness between friends.”

He nods, his mind clearly somewhere else, then adds, “I don’t think I want to try it again just yet. I feel like I need a lie down- you’ve worn me out!”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” She gets up and offers her hands as if her tiny form could actually help haul seven feet of firbolg up standing. He takes them anyway and then gathers the blanket around himself like a shawl. “Yes. You should go rest.” “Can you finish your sketch?”

“Yes, I can add in the rest of the details later probably, and if I don’t like them I’ll make them up. It might make you look better than in real life.”

“That’s not hard at the moment.” He agrees, coughing softly against his fist. “See you later.”

“See you later.” She echoes, and watches him disappear up the stairs to his room.

The living room feels very empty without so much pink firbolg but Jester doesn’t mind. She lies on her belly on the rug to add the rest of the details to her interrupted sketch. With care she adds the delicate line down the centre of his nose and the exact slit shape of his nostrils, then begins shading in the delicate fur there. She even hums to herself as she works, perfectly content.

She knows herself too well to say that her curiosity is ever fully satisfied, but this morning certainly came close. And when Caduceus will wake up, she will see if she can make good on her offer to take care of him. That’s what the Mighty Nein do, after all.

END.

#I love Jester she has no shame #and Cad will go a long way to make someone else happy #it's a dangerous combination #obsessed with tall cow man and soft quiet sneezes #sneeze kink #sickfic #caduceus clay sickfic

45 notes · View notes

cecilspeaks · 5 years

Text

149 - The General

If you can dream it, you can wake up in a cold sweat screaming about it. Welcome to Night Vale.

Night Vale, today is the birthday of Leonard Burton. Many of you are too young to remember Leonard. He was my mentor, my friend, and my predecessor at this radio station. I watched him die nearly 40 years ago, right outside this very radio station on Mesa Boulevard, when a cargo truck ran him over. The sight was – grisly and upsetting. But it is that sound, that horrible “snap!” I will never forget. Dozens of witnesses gathered around to help, but it was too late. I crouched over Leonard’s body, lying to him that he would be OK, attempting to coax him from some hint of life. But there was no final word to hear, not even a final breath. I noted there were tears on his cheeks, as a host of angels behind me moaned softly while touching fingers above a flaming trashcan.

Leonard was a dutiful journalist, a true servant of his town. He loved Boston cream pies and paintings of snakes. If he had lived, he would have been 117 years young today.

Listeners, thank you for all your kind emails. A few weeks ago I was a tad – too revealing about my personal life and I mentioned, in passing, that I’m a perennial bachelor. It’s true. I’ve never had a long term serious relationship, but honestly, it’s fine. [chuckling nervously] I get out, I-I s-, I see people. You do not need to try to set me up on blind dates with friends, relatives, ancestral ghosts. Thank you, I’m doing OK. In fact, I had a date recently. His name is Carlos. He says he’s a scientist, well – we have all been scientists at one point or another in our lives. He has perfect hair, a perfect lab coat and – and teeth like a military cemetery.

The date started well. We went to dinner at Big Rico’s Pizza. He had originally suggested Gino’s Italian Dining Experience and Bar and Grill, the fanciest restaurant in town, but since it was our first date, I suggested something more casual. And that was when things started to go wrong. Before we had even placed our orders, Carlos already seemed – disappointed. Which, in turn, disappointed me. Then there was dinner. I was trying to tell Carlos about my job here at the station, about my family and interests, and he was like “I know I know, Cecil, we’re in love. You and I are in love. You just don’t remember it.” And I told him, “You’re cute, but this is our first date, so let’s take this slow.” And then he looked sad, and I quickly finished my pizza, and we left.

An update on the Blood Space War. A few weeks ago, the Polonian forces who oppose us seemed all but defeated, their remaining ships cornered in a tiny moon on the far reaches of the Crab Nebula. Yet our attempts to finally destroy the enemy failed, and the Polonians escaped and regrouped. We’re getting word that the General has agreed to step down from her post, and new leadership will replace her. Some of you may remember the story of Eunomia, the teenager who left our Earth 200 years ago to join in the Blood Space War. She was a dreamer, a scientist, who was recruited for her sharp mind and later groomed as a master strategist for the Wolf Gang, our allies in this unending war. The Wolf Gang were able to use worm holes to travel great distances in mere moments. And Eunomia eventually discovered they could use these same portals to travel in time. After a brutal loss in the battle of Gamma Trachonus, Eunomia, then a captain, ordered her decimated platoon back in time to the beginning of the battle. With a greater understanding of their initial failures, she was able to better fight the battle again. Still she lost, only to return back through time to re-engage the enemy over and over again, she refought the battle until she won. Dozens of battles like this won led to her promotion to General of the Earth-Wolf Gang alliance. But after our most recent failure in the Crab Nebula, there is concern that she has lost her effectiveness.

An emissary from the Blood Space War has returned to Night Vale. They are wading through town in their oversized space suit. No doubt here to deliver us more terrible news from the front. Perhaps there will be no peace in our lifetimes. More on this story as it develops.

Our town is returning to normal, or so I have been told. Community college student and Blood Space War protest organizer, Basimah Bishara, said her mother exists once again. Basimah claims that a few weeks ago, her mother suddenly did not exist, thus making Basimah not exist but as of this week, they do exist. Basimah blames the time traveling actions of our General for changing the landscape of everyone’s existence. I can’t wrap my head around this, listeners, I-I.. I don’t remember Basimah ever not existing or, or-or that she was gone and returned. So it’s hard for me to believe this story. I-I took inventory of my own life and everything is as it always has been for me. I work at a radio station, I own a (-) [0:08:20] bike, I have a one-bedroom apartment with a soaking tub, walk-in closet, carpet shredder, knife compiler and a full-length mirror in the hallway. It’s an antique my mother handed down to me. She knows I love mirrors. I don’t have any siblings, but my mother’s alive and I talk to her regularly. We get along great, I-I-I called her to make sure everything is as she always remembered it, and she said, “What, I don’t know. Yeah sure, what a dumb question.” She’s always been witty like that. All is stasis. Nothing has been taken from my life.

The Intergalactic Military Headquarters reported all time high profits this month. They have built a stealth bomber entirely out of rare 1913 Liberty Head nickels, each valued at around - five million dollars. Senior strategic advisor Jameson Archibald admitted their financial success was not attributable to the new smart phone app he developed. “[cackling] No-ho-ho-ho-ho,” Archibald said, sitting astride a white tiger. “That app was super glitchy, but my Dad’s crazy rich and knows a bunch of people in the Pentagon, so we’re go-o-o-od!” Archibald then took a massive hit of a vape pen. “This is my new thing,” Archibald said. “Steam pens! No nicotine, no THC, only pure water vapor. Did you know water is good for you? Like, it gives you life, man. If we’re gonna vape anything, we should be vaping vapor. O-o, what if that’s what vape means? Vapor! If it doesn’t, it should!” This has been your financial report.

Sad news, Night Vale. John Peters – you know, the farmer – reported that his brother James is returning to service in the Blood Space War. James has been promoted to General to replace the retiring Eunomia. “Dang, James is such a good brother,” John said from the middle of his field of invisible corn. “I really like having him home, I’m gonna miss him. But I guess the universe needs him more than I do.” John then uprooted an invisible corn stalk and hugged it tightly, while humming the classic church hymn “Party in the USA”.

OK, this is getting annoying. So the guy I was telling you about earlier, Carlos, he’s been texting me this whole show, saying he wants to see me again, let’s see, something something, my timeline is still wrong? I should have a sister named Abby, here’s a photo of her with some kid. My mother died? Hmph. I’m supposedly afraid of mirrors, and he and I are actually married. This is ridiculous! OK, now he’s texting me a picture of a dog. “Our little puppy Aubergine,” it says. In the picture Carlos is holding the dog. I… Hm, that’s weird. I just had a strange feeling. What’s that term, uh, jamais vu I think, where you remember something that never happened.

Outside my window, I see the Emissary, their-their oblong mirrored face pressed against the glass, each hand raised to their head to block out glare from the sun. I’m waving to the Emissary now. Hello Emissary! I said just now. What is the French term for remembering something you’ve never experienced? I said even louder wondering if the Emissary can hear me through the window and that thick helmet. Also, is Aubergine a good name for a dog? I think it is! I called once more, just to start a decent conversation, because I was getting creeped out by the sight of a silent astronaut peering at me through my window. [chuckles] I can, I can see myself in the reflective face. I… [mumbles] I don’t like this. I do not like this at all. [panicked] Please go. Please leave, it cannot. Uh, I’m covering this window with a sheet, I do not like this mirror. I don’t like it one bit, no!

Let’s go to the weather.

[Weather: “Sad But Not Depressed” from the podcast It Makes a Sound https://nightvale.bandcamp.com]

I will tell you about the Emissary in a moment. But first, I must tell you that Carlos called me. Here’s his voicemail.

Carlos: Cecil, I_I’m calling for personal reasons. I-I’m, [sighs] I’m calling to tell you that I love you. That I have loved you almost since the first day I met you nearly 7 years ago. I didn’t know anyone in Night Vale [chuckles] and you were the first person to take any interest in my studies. Its not easy feeling alone, but within a year I wasn’t, cause I was with you. And now we are married. Well, at least in my lifetime we were married. We have been married, and we have a beautiful puppy named Aubergine, a house, a relationship. You have a sister, and you know, you have a brother-in-law too and, and a niece who is a talented athlete and (enormously), just a kind young woman. And we have – oh, you’re gonna play this on air, aren’t you? Oh, of course you are. Well never mind. Anyway uh, somehow you don’t know any of this. I’ve been working nights and days trying to repair this break in continuity, and I haven’t slept much, because I-I can’t sleep until we’re back in the same timeline. But I can’t find anything that will fix this, I-I don’t know what else to do other than to just say: Trust me. I will start over, we’ll go to Rico’s on another first date, I will pretend to hear about your life for the first time, I will tell you about mine for the thousandth time. It won’t be the same for me, but it will still be you. And, and that’s all that matters. You, you’re the one. Oh god, this must sound crazy, you barely know you and, and I’m coming off as desperate, but it’s because I am. Please call me. [beep]

Cecil: And I did, call him back. A-a-and I said: “I love you too. Babe, I love your beard. I love our dog. I love… I-I love our life together.” Minutes before that, I did not feel that way. I did not know about my life with Carlos, because it had never happened in my history.

It was in those minutes, though, that the Emissary spoke to me. The Emissary entered my studio and removed her helmet. And underneath was the face of an old woman, it was the face of Eunomia, the young girl who disappeared from Night Vale on her 17th birthday 200 years ago. Eunomia told me she had resigned her post as General. She was the most successful leader in the Blood Space War, but tampering with timelines had caused life in the universe to nearly cease to exist. Eunomia knew she would have to undo what she had undone so many times over, even though it would put peace out of her reach. She’s doing that. She is taking responsibility by visiting every single person affected by her actions. She’s telling them what she has taken from them. And what she will now give back. It will take her a long, long time to do this. it will take her the rest of her life.

In my case, she told me I have a sister, Abby, a brother-in-law, Steve, a niece, Janice. I-I did not know those times. She told me about my husband Carlos. I knew that name, but did not feel love for it. She took my hand and told me to look at the moon. There was a thick wedge missing from it. I never noticed that the moon was broken. Eunomia said: “I will leave now and I will undo what has been done, and your life will return to how it was.” I asked: “But I have a life now.” And she said: “But what of the lives of others? You are all connected. If I do not fix yours, how many others will never have back what the war has taken?” “And what about you?” I said. “Will you return to your teenage life on the farm?” “No,” she said, “I cannot go back to that age, but I will go back to that time and place. I only wish to see my family one more time.” “And what about the war?” I said. Hmph. “There will always be a war, because there will always be a lust for a war,” she said. “I am sorry, Cecil. I have to go.” She pointed to the moon once again. And it was whole, unbroken. I tried to squeeze her hand, but it was gone. It was only me in the studio.

On a late summer afternoon in 1816, an astronaut appeared in the center of Night Vale. 96 years later, a dog park would be established on that exact spot. The astronaut walked silently through the dusty streets. Bow-legged and slow, the Emissary walked through the outskirts of town. It took hours, and nearly the entire city followed her. Past a lot that would eventually to Old Woman Josie. Past the homestead of Eugene Leroy. Until she reached the Peters farm. And there, she stopped. There was a greenish aura about the astronaut, as she turned to face the gathered mob. The astronaut put her gloved hands to her neck and unlashed the helmet. There was a loud hissss and a pop, when she lifted the mask. The crowd approached tentatively. As the helmet came fully off, the townsfolk cried out. The face of the visitor was nearly skeletal, a rotted corpse, long white hair peeling down the back of the skull, an incomplete set of elongated teeth visible with no lips to hide them, startled eyes, ever staring with no lids to express anything else. And what was left of the skin had shriveled and yellowed.

The crowd had begun to step backward, but one woman stepped forward. a tired and pale woman. The woman whose farm it was approached the decomposing astronaut and said: “Eunomia?” The General opened her mouth slowly and spoke in a hoarse cough. “Mother,” she said. Eunomia’s young mother touched her elderly daughter’s face. Eunomia broke into dust. And the empty space suit collapsed to the ground, leaving behind the faint shape of the woman’s dissipating daughter.

In a cornfield on the outskirts of town, the General’s ashes scattered across a golden lake of ripened corn. In the very place where her military successor, James Peters – you know, the General – would be born 150 years later.

The memories of what Eunomia said to me, the memories of my life without my family, are fading quickly. Night Vale returns to normal, whatever that means. [chuckles] I told Carlos I was so sorry for causing him such pain. I can not ever know how difficult that must have been. He only tilted his head and said: “Already forgotten.” I wasn’t sure if he was being literal. Hmm.

Stay tuned next for the unceremonious continuation of all that is real.

Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: I’m gonna take my horse to the old town road, and then we’re gonna go grab drinks and dinner, maybe watch a movie. Girls’ night.

#welcome to night vale #wtnv #wtnv transcripts #episode 149 #the general

116 notes · View notes

spookyspaghettisundae · 4 years

Text

Saving Face

He awoke in the middle of the night. But not in a gentle way. Not feeling rested. No. His eyes fluttered open. Panic made his heart race. He struggled to understand how much time had passed, how he had gotten here, where he even was. He had not slept for long and something was deeply wrong.

Clarity crashed into his mind: Father Simpson had slept in a guest room of the town’s overseer, Gregory Galway. The memories of visiting Hallowglen to investigate a series of disturbed graves now flooded his mind.

The air—a wintry, deathly cold—clawed into his exposed skin as he jolted up into a sitting position upon the soft bed. He stared into the darkness of this room and it stared back at him. A presence stood in here with him, causing the hairs to stand up on the back of his neck. Two tiny eyes glowed like the eyes of a cat. Judging by the height, they belonged to a child.

But his host had no children.

He scrambled, pushing up against the wall behind him, slipping and sliding on the sheets and blankets and failing to stand up straight on his bed. The priest’s hand pawed at the bedside table to find his host’s gaslight lantern and he knocked it over, catching it at the last second before it could fall to the floor.

When he switched it on and illuminated the room with it, the sphere of light it cast shook so violently that the shadows danced. The glow from the eyes of the creature in there with him vanished, but a raggedy, hairy figure shied away from the light, hiding behind a dresser and peering back at him through a single one of those cat-like eyes.

A grotesque hand of size disproportionate to the child-like figure clutched the side of the dresser. Its fingers ended in filthy black talons. They scratched over the wood, leaving deep marks. A single eye, catching a dull reflection from the light, stared at the priest.

The lantern in Simpson’s hand trembled and the light followed suit.

He breathed at it, “Who are you?”

No answer came from the creature, and he added, “What are you?”

The eye of the creature blinked—sideways—telling Simpson beyond doubt that this was no human being. The child-sized figure shook like a dog shaking off water, and the matted black fur upon its body rippled.

It whispered but the words eluded the priest’s understanding. They sounded like no language he had ever even heard before. Guttural and crude. Ancient.

The creature then hunched over and emitted retching sounds. It hacked, choked, and coughed until something wet and sloppy hit the wooden floorboards in front of it. A wad of slime with chunks lay there, and worms or maggots writhed within the goo. The creature whispered more and rounded the corner of the dresser with a strange grace, standing in the light so the priest could see it in its full unholy glory.

Its arms were far too long for its tiny height, and its short stout legs bent back like those of a horse, though they ended in talons like those of a huge crow. Shaggy fur concealed all skin and whatever face the thing had, a mat of fur hid all features, revealing only a pair of cat-like eyes that stared at him without blinking any more.

Simpson grabbed his silver cross and held it out in front of him, alongside the lantern. The priest hissed at the thing, “In the name of the good God! Stay back!”

Instead of a reply, it just coughed more. Instead of the demonic speech he expected to hear in defiance of his own words, it raised an arm and pointed a filthy talon at him.

Whispers came from its mouth—a small maw lined with tiny sharp teeth—and the incomprehensible words curdled Simpson’s blood. He could not understand a word, but the speech cut all the way down to his bone. His skin writhed and the quivering gob of slime with the maggots on the floor made his stomach churn. The vermin stopped squirming erratically and exploded in size, growing to the size of human fingers before crawling over the floor towards his bed with unnatural speed.

The priest wanted to scream as they slithered up onto the sheets and closed in on him, but his terror squeezed it out, allowing only a hoarse croaking noise to escape his throat. Before he knew it, he frantically swiped and scratched at his own sleeves and skin, desperately trying to get these slimy writhing wriggling things off of him as they slithered all over him, but they eluded his grasp and clung to him like tar.

One entered his mouth and he instinctively bit down on it, causing it to explode into a mass of warm fluid, but the end that he bit off slid down his tongue and continued to writhe, making him choke as it lodged itself inside his throat.

Another slid around his ear and would not come off, no matter how hard he pulled at it or squeezed, nor could he truly catch hold of it because it slipped away between his fingers and wriggled its way right into his ear, sliding so far in that his fingers were too big to grasp at it anymore.

The priest rolled around on the bed in a panic. The light danced, sheets tumbled off the bed as he kicked wildly without target. The world spun around him and he needed to vomit, but his body refused him even that. With the lantern still in one hand, his other waited by his mouth, trembling with dread.

He pictured having to claw these things out of him, imagining how he would bleed all over the place in doing so. And then the writhing and wriggling stopped.

As if the worms were gone. The foul taste of the worm’s fluids on his tongue remained, reminding him that this was real. All too real.

Simpson stared at the creature in his room through eyes wide with terror, and it stared back at him with an eerie, otherworldly calm. The priest broke out into a cold sweat and every limb felt both hot and cold at the same time.

“I am Prince Fainlahset,” said the nightly visitor in a tiny whisper. It sounded like a child yet devoid of any innocence. A melody that carried eons of knowledge but without a trace of surviving compassion. Its accent was strange, like it did not belong in this world nor had it spoken any tongue belonging to man. “This is my land. Your kind violated the covenant, so I will take back what I saved with my princely grace, long ago.”

The priest’s mind reeled. He held out the cross and his hand trembled with the panic that rode him. The sheer terror drowned out the power of his faith and he sensed it held no sway over this creature. This thing was no demon, nothing undead.

It sighed a raspy sound.

Simpson’s lips moved to respond, and he could tell the disconnect between what his lips and tongue tried to form, and what he heard. He spoke in a foreign tongue, the abhorrent sounds he had heard from the creature before without comprehending him, but now he understood every word.

“What covenant? I don’t understand what you’re saying,” the priest said. His chest heaved, his stomach wanted to expel its contents and his head swam. Tears welled up in his eyes.

“This is not your land, but we tolerated you. And when your Gwallag Galway needed our help, we entered the covenant. No foes to defeat or dishonor you, ever. One child, every thirteen years. A simple trade,” said the creature. Its talons clicked and scratched over the floorboards as it took a step towards the priest.

“By the power of the good God, I compel you to—stay back,” Simpson said. But his voice trembled, his spirit faltered. His faith waned in the face of this unnatural presence.

“Your trinket means nothing to me. It will not make up for what I am owed and I do not want it,” said the creature. It stared into his eyes—into his very soul—without mercy.

The temperature in the room dropped below freezing and the silvered cross in Simpson’s hand turned icy cold, colder than winter’s heart itself. The light of his lamp flickered. The cross cracked and exploded into a cloud of dust that made the priest cough, hacking as his throat tried to expel the thing lodged in it—he felt the worm wriggle, as if resisting his body’s urge to eject it.

“All the face I saved your kind,” the creature said, taking another step closer. “All these years, I returned and took what I was owed. But now you refuse me? Thrice?”

“I don’t understand!”

As it stepped closer yet, a faint scent hit Simpson’s nose. Like the dirt and grass of meadow after rain, upturned by the claws of a beast with wet fur; all earthy and wet. Not foul-smelling, but strangely familiar and alien at the same time. A part of it reminded him of the cemetery from the day before, when he covered up the grave of Mariah Kabble.

It whispered to the priest in a fevered pitch, “I helped you save face. And now I take them back. I take all of them back. I take the faces of those who died, and now I take those of the living.”

Simpson shrieked until his scream choked out into a gurgle and ceased altogether.

Gregory Galway, torn from his slumber, hammered at the door to his guest chamber in which the priest had rested that night. When nobody opened the door, he burst into the room.

The lantern’s light still burned, but the lamp stood crooked upon a jumble of sheets. A wad of something slimy and disgusting stood out from a puddle on the floor. Simpson lay sprawled out, an arm and a leg drooped over the disheveled mattress and the others on the cold ground. Face down.

Knowing full well what expected him, he had to see it anyway. The town’s overseer pulled at the priest’s shoulder and turned him over.

Father Simpson’s face was missing. Not disfigured, nor eaten, nor was it torn off. Just gone—smooth skin with no orifices. No eyes, no nose, no mouth. Nothing.

Galway screamed. A murder of crows took flight from the rooftop of his house, cawing and flapping their wings as they flew into the fringe of the forest nearby.

Prince Fainlahset would return.

—Submitted by Wratts

4 notes · View notes

fightevilandthengetblownup · 5 years

Text

FIC: Death Like Virtues (Has It’s Degrees)

---

The sky was dark, pitch black and iridescent in it’s blackness, despite it being just after one in the morning on November 1st and usually reflecting the lights of the city below it; and that was when she knew she was in trouble.

Looking above her, the sky shimmered to itself and pulsed, the flight of thousands of millions of crows blocking out the clouds, the sky and even the moon itself over the graveyard. Their wings beat in unison, and Jo found herself covering her ears as the voices of each and every one of the birds let out a call, creating a cacophony of screeching that could have been misconstrued for thunder.

She turned her wrist, double checking the time and splayed her fingers out as she tried to count forward. Five hours ahead would put it at just on sunrise on the 1st. Sunrise on the start of the celebration of Samhain. In Ireland, it would have already began.

The start of October had found cows slaughtered in a 60 mile radius of the graveyard. Cattle had begun to be found strewn across the few farms bordering the area, and then as the month progressed there had been report after report of other animals from dogs and cats to rabbits and all birds other than the inky black crows being found slaughtered as well. Blood had flowed in backyards, homes and on the streets alike. And overhead, Boston had been watched over by murder upon murder of crows.

Jo had been drawn to the graveyard itself after the disappearance of several men and women over the last week last seen heading towards the area, and then the bodies of three women had been found in the cemetery itself. They had been rested against or on top of the grave markers for their children. All three women had had their chests torn apart, shredded through the breast as if by claws or teeth, and their ribs cracked open and emptied as if to house something small inside. Reading the police records had been gruesome enough to make her shudder.

The call of the cries above her pulled her out of the reflection as she was swooped and caroled forward. Pressing onward and trying to duck away from the raking claws of those birds that flew down close enough to her, the blonde was pushed forward down the grassy slopes behind the cemetery and found herself twisting her ankle as the ground evened out unexpectedly at a dried river bed. Following the path of the long missing water flow, she found herself no longer swooped but the sound loud above her from the black winged creatures.

It wasn’t until she’d gotten to town and looked into the murders and disappearances more that Jo realized what she thought she was dealing with. Small baby spirits that haunted and hunted for those responsible for their deaths or simply accosting lone wanderers out in the night. They were typically known within Scandinavian lore, but had spread across the areas of Europe with the Vikings so long ago. Babies murdered or abandoned by their mothers at birth without their rights shared or a successful burial - the myling - would enact revenge on their mother through death or cause the death of those they convinced to return them to sacred ground for their right burial. Jo had come to the cemetery that evening prepared to dig a shallow grave and return the small but heavy creatures to the earth, but had realized how far she was from the end of this hunt as the crows had swarmed upon her like an inky shadow as she’d splashed Holy Water over the top of not only the monsters’ grave but the three real grave-sites.

She’d been pushed and guided from there, and stumbling along the dry river bed, Jo struggled to pull twigs and leaves and dirt from her hair as she rounded a bend and spotted a lone figure at the meeting point between this dry creek-bed and the next river.

There was something familiar, and niggling at the back of her mind as Jo moved forward still - the cries of the crows and sound of wings beating at the back of her head pushing her on - until the figure turned and the eerie feeling settled with recognition.

"Why have my girls brought you here, young one?" The words sounded as bored and disinterested as the last time Jo had heard that voice. The redhead stood with one foot sunk into the water of the slow flowing river and the other upon the dried creek bed without a care to the thick, dark mud clogging to her boots. "How did you get past my little babes?"

Jo felt herself drawing closer, hand resting on the hilt of her knife that she knew wouldn't work against the goddess of death, but it felt reassuring to do so anyway.

"I thought mylings were from Scandinavian lore, not Irish, Morrigan." She found herself answering as she approached, the threat of wing beats above her gone now that their Mistress had been made aware. "I baptized them and returned them to the ground."

"Oh silly, my home has many myths and has many ties. And I myself may just be very like my favorite children," the lilt of the woman's voice was sweet to hear but Jo knew the danger she was in as the goddess' eyes focused upon her face. There was a moment before the edges of her mouth twitched up into a smirk which sent chills down Jo's spine. "And much like yourself, little Joanna. I may be a little bit of a thief."

She found herself flushing at the way the goddess' eye ran across her, head tilted to the side as if considering her for a long quiet moment.

"Well, if you could, uh, not raise tiny murderous babies here in America - that'd be much appreciated."

"You would know all about things raised from the dead, now wouldn't you." She could tell it wasn't a question as the goddess turned her attention back skywards, the dimmed sky suddenly breaking to allow a strong stream of moonlight straight towards the redhead as if bathing her in the cool light. The dark misty sleeves of her gown were kissed by the moonlight, and the voluminous ballgown darker than ink and shimmering like the crows wings above them. "Well, they weren't drawing him anyway so I guess no harm in your disposing of them, little hunter."

Jo bristled at the phrase, crossing her arms under her chest and looked about herself for a long, silent moment. She should escape now. She had taken care of the evil baby monsters that would kill and kill and kill had they been left unchecked, and now all there was was a very dangerous goddess and a ton of crows. Nothing so bad she couldn't hike back up the hill, slide into her car and walk away without interrupting whatever the goddess was planning. There were no innocents around to die, so it couldn't have been all bad.

Her mind made up, Jo began to shift her feet and turned to head up the riverbank before jumping.

“Where do you think you are going, little hunter?”

“I was-”

“No no, I’ve decided I need you here.” The Morrigan stared back at her, the slight incline the woman was standing on now suddenly immediately before the hunter instead of where Jo had seen her. “I’ve decided that I very much would like you here, he is quite a showman, so perhaps the extra eyes would help.”

“Uh..” Jo found her mouth suddenly feeling dry as she blinked back at the blue eyes of the goddess - a cold breeze coming off of the river behind her and licking at her back - and found that terror rolling over her the last time she saw the redhead. It had been an unpleasant experience, however somehow the death goddess had been nothing but a little eerie and strangely unnerving rather than the horrible gut wrenching jabs from some of the others that had been present. “What...who... who are you waiting for?”

“Yes, quite a showman, this should do quite nicely.” The goddess said in lieu of an answer, her eyes focused sharply upon the blondes face a hand reached out and stroking one of those long fingers across her cheek and down her jawline. There was a beat before the Morrigan dropped her hand and tugged the silver chain and pendant from underneath the dark sweater the hunter was wearing with a curious look on her face, before asking quietly “You have a husband, don’t you?”

Jo felt herself flush immediately at the words, her cheeks and ears burning hot. “I, uh-”

“How quickly can you get him here?”

“I’m not-”

“Scratch that, I’m sure I could locate him easily enough. You humans are so easy to find when I need you - just pull those little strings of your entwined fates.”

“He’s not a human.” Jo blurted the words out, biting down on her lip as soon as the words left her mouth, taking a full step back into the dry bed to try to get away from the other woman’s hold.

If Jo had thought the goddess had unearthly speed before, it was proved then at the hand wrapping back around her arm and then a following one tugging a hair from her crown. Goddamn Gods and their supernatural abilities. The redhead stared at her imperceptibly before she began twisting the blonde strand around her fingers and looking through her splayed fingers up at the moon as if deciphering something no one else would be able to see from the single hair.

“Oh right, he isn’t isn’t he, interesting.” The Morrigan murmured to herself, continuing to twist and turn the hair about her fingers before she released Jo’s arm as she began to plait the strand in on itself. It was as if the piece grew longer and longer as she worked it over, and Jo found the hairs standing up on the back of her neck at the look the goddess began to give her. “Very interesting. Perhaps he would be suitable though.” There was a beat before Jo watched as her hair went up in a dark flash of smoke. “Now, please get him here.”

“No.” Jo shook her head, stepping back from the other. There was no way that she was going to be doing that. “No way in Hell.”

“Bring him here, little hunter.”

“I said no.”

“Now.” The word was hissed and the sound of the screams from above rang out alongside her voice, before the hand was back around her arm, fingers tight and the black, elongated nails digging into her skin. “Call him here, now.”

Jo gasped at the tight grip, both hands scrambling to tug and pull at the hard hold upon her. There was a long moment before the goddess released her with a shove, tossing her upon the dried ground at her muddy feet.

“Now, little hunter, before I lose my patience.”

“What...what would it even help?”

There was a laugh, that sounded colder than the wind and harsh like her crows, before the goddess replied with a cold, cruel smile upon her lips. “My man needs an audience, and I have only so much time before I lose my temper with both you and him.”

Hissing, Jo rubbed at her elbows as she looked up at the goddess who gave her a sharp nod before stepping over Jo’s prone form and returning to stand in the join of the waterways with her hands held high once more - moonlight bathing her and making an image as if torn from the cold, sharp works of art that she had inspired.

A moment later, Jo had pulled her phone from her pocket and sent off a message with her location and that she was stuck with ‘a crazy fucking death goddess that’s doing some shit’ and not to come but to check in in a few hours, and hoped in equal measure that the shadow would show up and smoke them away or not show up at all at the warning.

Next second, there was a hand held out to her from her left, and Jo bit back a groan at realizing that it had not been the latter.

“Hold on tight,” the words were whisper quiet as she grabbed a hold of his hand, however the next second the hand was gone and Jo found herself pressed against the ground harshly by some invisible force. Turning her head to the side, she saw Grey’s face pressed into the ground the same as her.

Groaning, Jo turned her head to the other side and found herself face to foot with the booted foot of the goddess. “Such interesting thing he is.” There was a chill in her voice, the Irish lilt sounding colder than Jo had heard so far as the redhead moved around her - mud kicked up beside her face as the goddess moved and splattering across her cheek and hair - towards the shadow. She shifted slightly to watch the iridescent material of the ballgown sweeping across the ground before the goddess stood above the other. A jerk of her hand pulled the man upwards onto his knees and Jo found herself scowling watching, wishing she hadn’t messaged him at all as the pale fingers tilted the other’s head up towards her. “So very interesting a thing, aren’t you little monster?”

“Who the-”

“Be careful what you say, or I might just peck that tongue out of your mouth.” The Morrigan cut in sharply, her tone as cruel and sharp as the crow calls circling above them. She tilted his head to either side before plucking a hair from his head and dropping her grip - the shadow forced back into the dirt beside Jo with a groan and glare.

Spinning her fingers as she had with the blonde strand still in her other hand, the goddess looked towards the sky through the growing and growing length of the dark hair. “Huh, interesting. You’ve gone and bested me as much as your bonnie lass, haven’t you little shadow?” The hair twisted dark around her pale fingers in a web that the length never should have reached, before she moved both hands together with a frown. “Definitely gone and stolen so many deaths from my tally taking over that pathetic little man. And changed his fate it seems - would have had him in six years without your interference.”

“What do you mean?” Grey’s words were gritted out this time, and Jo could see his fists grinding into the dirt. “Who are you?”

There was a releasing of the force upon them at that point as the goddess turned her back and moved towards the joining point of the rivers - her hands twisting in front of her face as she twined their hairs together and continued to mutter under her breath something about “troublesome hunters” and “changing strands” - as Jo clambered to her feet again.

“Jo.. What-”

“The Morrigan. Death and Fate.”

“Well, let’s not stick around too long then.” Grey moved to her side again as they’d both found their footing and reached a hand out for her before then vanished away as Jo closed her eyes.

Feeling ground beneath them, Jo blinked in surprise to see them standing in the same area but now in the middle of the join of the river and creek in front of the goddess instead of home like she thought they would be.

“Please do not try that again,” The voice was harsher than the usual lilting tone or crow’s scream, as the redhead held her hands above her head as the pair of them stared in confusion and concern as the shadow grabbed a hold of Jo again and vanished again. This time they appeared closer still, barely six foot from the goddess who was now looking at them rather than towards the sky, a cold scowl formed across her face. “You have one last strike before I go for the sacrificial approach for my love.”

Jo could feel the hand on her waist tighten for a moment as if she could feel the thought process of the shadow behind her, tossing up the chance that the third time would be the charm to get away, before there was a horrifying sound echoing through the area - something reminiscent of the crack of lightening, the harsh twang of an untuned harp and the roar of thunder - that rocked through her to clash in her chest painfully.

“That should not be necessary, wife dearest.” The voice was soft after the loud clanging sound had echoed and bounced away, but on it’s own it was just a gentle rumble. The scowl on the pale goddess’ face shifted immediately from the cold looks to a glorious smile - still cold and dangerous as steel behind it at the sharp teeth and cutting jerk of her eyes to the approaching figure. “You know we’re getting a little old for blood sacrifices and needless violence these days, Moors.”

“Perhaps, however you should learn to be prompt if you wish to avoid them in future.” The simpering tone belied the coolness underneath as the Irish goddess turned to face the strange man approaching the trio, her skirt swished in the small pull of the water as as the tall, lanky man approached - a twang of a harps approaching alongside the rush of water coming along the dry creek bed he moved along towards them. The Morrigan’s skirts swirled and rustled in the rising water, floating out about her like the wings of her familiars. “I never thought you cared much to avoid such bloodshed however.”

“I believe you’ve made enough this month though, darling wife. Were those horrifying babes truly necessary?” The man - clearly the god the goddess had been trying to attract, if the building static of the air at his arrival was anything to judge by - came to stand, towering over the three of them at a lofty height, before the goddess with a discerning look upon the scruffy face as the wind whipped up around his cloak and mass of hair. Jo felt her own hair tugged up and swirling about her head in the maelstrom of the circling winds coming from both gods as the hand around her waist tightened again.

She couldn’t fight down the snort of amusement though at the disapproving look and equally fierce scowl being shared light lightening between the two gods as she took a step back in time with the shadow at her back. Grey’s arm was careful but firm around her and she could feel his pulse racing under her fingers wrapped around his wrist as he tugged her back a few steps as the heavy rush of water swirled in time around their calves and growing to their thighs as the other pair continued their stare down.

That was until two sets of bright eyes flashed in their direction and Jo bit down on a groan as she winced realizing that her amusement had been loud enough to be heard over the howling yet quiet winds.

“Did you not appreciate the babes either, girlie?” The question grabbed at Jo’s attention as the man at her back tugged harder and hissed out an almost feral sound as the god turned from the furious looking goddess to approach them. “They are quite disturbing, aren’t they?”

Jo did not trust herself to speak, nodding her head sharply before she stepped back another step in time with the other behind her, drawing out of the rushing water and onto the muddy embankment.

“But not scary for you, I can imagine, little girl.” Normally the term would make her seethe, and she could imagine the tempered distaste flashing across Grey’s face as she stepped up beside him - her eyes flashing to his own and biting down a smile to see exactly as she expected. However coming from what was clearly a much, much older being than the lanky figure he portrayed, that fury was settled. “Especially with that beside you.”

“Hey-!” Grey snapped the word out before cutting himself off at the objection, as if unable to stop from reacting but catching himself as quickly as possible. The unknown god’s head swung to look at him instead, a cock of his head and the slowly dying winds settling the mass of curls about the Irish man’s face as he raised a brow.

“I can see why my lass decided that you two may interest me. In fact, I am very interested - well done, dearest wife.”

“Oh, so that’s the only reason you came this morn’? Because of a little girl and a little by-product?”

“After last years meeting? Yes. Yes, my dear, I only came to see this years additions.”

“How dare you!” The Morrigan screeched, the sound of crow calls rising with her voice harsh and cruel, and Jo bit down a smirk at the splashing of the water as the shorter woman stalked forth towards the other god.

There was the sound of thunder and crows as once, screaming through the air as the god turned back towards the other - his furious and beautiful wife, if Jo could pick the idea correctly. The pair began shouting, screaming and screeching in part in a language more musical than wrathful as the look upon the Morrigan’s face - the shadows sinking her eyes deep and disconcerting and the red of her lips dripping as if black ink or dark red blood was pouring with each word, while the other god’s back was taunt and the slight glow and crackle of lightening could be seen zapping and arcing between his hair from behind.

At the gods’ distraction with one another, the hunter found herself struggling up the side of the now raging river - much wilder and deeper than it suggested from how the other pair seemed to still stand at peaceful anger in ankle deep water as the torrents rushed around them instead - with a careful hand from the other.

Getting to the edge, Jo found herself shaking her head of the mud and water that had swept over her hair and left it a damp, stringy mess around her face. “So, uh, what part of check in a few hours did you miss?”

“You wanted me to leave you with that crazy bitch?” Grey’s eyes were wide and pale in the dull moonlight as he stepped closer to her, pushing hair back from her face with a concerned look as he hissed back quietly. “Who knows what she’d have done to you!”

“It was goin’ fine. Sorta.” She shrugged a shoulder, leaning into his chest with a sigh of relief however. The night had been long thus far, and as she felt chill in the air as if to warn it would be longer still. Jo let out a huff of frustration as she heard the shouts in that strange dialect - something much older than what she was sure was still used in their foreign land today - get louder and then quieter again. “How long you think this is going to take?”

“Their gods. They have forever, don’t they?”

“Think we can make a run for it without her zappin’ us back?”

She could feel the rumble of a laugh in his chest, though she could feel it was tighter and harder than his usual one - more an awkward reaction than actual amusement, before the gentle tug that came with the intention to smoke away grabbed her. Next second they weren’t even a foot further away from where they started and the shadow let out a disapproving growl. “I would say that we can’t, no.”

“Was worth a try, hun.” Jo replied, clutching a hand against his shoulder as they stumbled to right themselves with a quiet sigh that they were stuck waiting on the whims of the fairweather goddess.

“See?! See!” There was a shriek cutting through the air from the rushing rivers at that point, and a sudden decrease in the water height until it was as if there had never been any - a dry creek bed without any signs of water from the hot dry months before. The Morrigan’s pale, black nailed finger was pointed straight at them and Jo felt the stiffening of the other before he shuffled to be between her and the goddess’ judging finger. “See that, husband dear! That is what we should be like, and you didn’t even give me one year!”

“You want to be like little mortals?” There was amusement in the voice as the tall man approached the other immortal. Jo stood on her toes and almost bit back a smile as she spotted the man mimicking the shadow’s positioning - arm around the waist, hand just barely tangled in the tips of hair, and head tilted to press against the top of head - on The Morrigan. His height made a mockery of it all, and Jo barely held back a snort of amusement at the fury flashing over the goddess’ face. “You want us to have such fleeting lives? To be like mayflies - here one moment and gone the next? You want to have hair like straw and cheeks like roses?”

“How dare you suggest-”

“Dearest wife, you always have the fiercest tempers.”

“Mother help us if she shows it.” Grey’s voice was quiet over her ear and Jo wasn’t able to stop the quiet giggle this time as she caught his eye - a slightly fierce look to the shadow’s face that she had only seen a handful of times when it was at their worsts.

“Ah! They speak!” The god’s voice rang out before the next moment it was closer than the dry creek bed as two large hands gripped a shoulder each and pulled the pair apart. The cold look on Grey’s face twisted darker still as the unknown god gripped his shoulder tightly - Jo could see the force was harder upon the other’s shoulder than her own, feather light even against hers and gripping tight enough to twist the fabric of his hoodie on his. “They can glare too. What fire in him, my dear wife, you found such an interesting trinket for our anniversary.”

“Let go of her.” The words were growled out as the long fingers of the god twisted some more in the meat of the monster’s shoulder.

There was a laugh at it from the god. “Such fierce little thing, I guess I should though you’d be prepared that my jealous, vicious wife will probably destroy her the moment I do.”

Grey’s throat bobbed in a tight swallow as he looked between the god and the goddess, her standing and staring with a cool and serene look upon her pretty face but darkness swallowing the air around her red hair. There was a long moment before the shadow shook his head gently, eyes drifting back to the god’s warily.

“Good choice, my man, good choice.”

“Let me go then.”

“Let you go? Now why would I do that?” The clear humor was evident as the god turned fully to pin him with a bemused look instead. Jo bit down her own scowl seeing the green eyed god rake a look across the other for a moment, before the side of his lips twitched up in a half smile. “My lovely wife might get angrier still at my paying attention to you, you’re just as pretty as the both of them aren’t you.”

“I-”

“Yes, I suppose she might just decide to off the both of you. Such a vicious little bitch of a woman that one.” A long, haggard sigh came from the god himself as he glanced over a shoulder towards the goddess as she moved slowly up the embankment in her waterlogged skirts. His hair seemed to move on its own according, bouncing and then flattening as he caught the goddess’ eye into what Jo thought would be described as ‘depressed curls’ rather than the bouncy look they had had before. “Why I needed her assistance in that godforsaken war, and what it’s cost me.”

“You were losing, my love, and you will continue to pay for my support here after.” The lilt of her words were so beautiful compared to the coldness of her delivery. “My sweet, stupid Dagda. You’ve no head for battle plans even if they say you do.”

“If it were as easy as magic-”

“And yet I am better at that than you too, my husband.”

Jo found herself rolling her eyes at the pair, and scowled as the god’s fingers dug into her shoulders a little tighter than they had before as the goddess approached to stop her tugging away from them both. The name the goddess said meant little to her - something to tuck away and look into later on when they were out of the bind they were in - but the sour look on The Dagda’s face definitely meant he did not hear it often unless it came with the same ridiculing tone it came in now.

“Really? You believe you are better than myself, do you dear?” The god’s hair sparked with the crackle of lightening again, and Jo could see the way Grey tugged back away from the licking sparks as far as possible with a disturbed look on his face. “You think you are better than the god of the druids? The first of the druids? You think your witchcraft is a match for mine?”

“Of course, my dear stupid Dagda.” The Morrigan smirked up at him from by his elbow, and Jo took the distracted frown of the god to tug free and scurry the four feet across to the shadow’s side instead. Getting caught between gods was never pleasant, and she had not enjoyed it the last time at all. Wrapping her hand around her man’s arm, Jo found herself glancing between the two gods - towering and otherworldly, despite the clear differences in height and size they towered equally as the winds picked up and black feathers caught the wind and into both of their hair. “You may be the king, but I am your queen and I control the winds of fate.”

“In that case, let me see if I can’t prove my position above you again, my dear wife.” There was a look, an almost wicked glee and amusement upon the god’s face as the hood of his cloak flapped upwards in the wind to cover the crackling sparks of his hair and from underneath it’s shadow, Jo could see a glowing silver to his eyes as the god dropped the grip upon the shadow’s shoulder.

Next moment, he had both hands wrapped around the pale talons of his goddess-wife’s and slipped his fingers around her fingers. Jo watched the goddess’ eyes open widely and excitedly for a moment - a look she was sure that she herself had regularly whenever her hands wrapped in those she held now - before a horrible darkness crossed her face as his hands pulled back away from her.

“You fucking-”

There was a laugh, it boomed with the sound of thunder as the god held his hands sky high and Jo could see the two thin strands of hair wrapped between his own fingers - only by the gold shine of her own being able to identify the cause of the goddess’ rage. “Let’s see you undo this, you horrible creature.” The Dagda hissed back at her as a crack of lightening shot down to his hands, obliterating the two strands. “Now off you two go, while I give my darling, disgusting wife a talking to.”

Jo frowned slightly in confusion before the shift of scenery caught her off guard, stumbling into Grey’s arms as the dry dirty riverbank was replaced by the worn floorboards of their hallway and the walls of their hall replaced the tree line.

“What the fuck was that?” The words came out in a rush over her head as Grey held a steadying hand to her back. “Jo, how the hell did you- You said it was some kind of evil babies, not a god!”

Jo let out an awkward laugh at the tone before smiling up at him with a shake of her head. “Well, it started out that way for sure.”

“You got trapped by a goddess!”

“Yeah,” She let out another laugh, more warm and confident than the first as she pulled back a step. “That happens sometimes.” Jo quickly held up a hand as she watched him open his mouth to rebut her, smiling ruefully. “Maybe next time I’ll actually be prepared for it?”

---

#ca #jopov #cc

2 notes · View notes

clownsgobeepbeep · 5 years

Note

I didn’t realize there were more! 59

59.)Halloween

Let’s see some younger clowns...~

For most people, the night had finally come to an end. Parents headed back home with their children as others also returned due to curfews placed onto them. One of these kids, one older yet still young, sat on his bed inside his room.

He removed the boots he had been wearing, his overalls coming along before he instead wore a pair of jeans and old sneakers. Once done, a jacket came along and he stood up, approaching his bedroom door. Ever so gently, he opened it just the slightest bit, backing away as he heard footsteps.

“Aster, I swear I’m alright. It’s probably all the chocolate I’ve been eating. The baby has been craving it more than ever.”

“Are you sure you don’t need any medicine? I could carry you-”

“Aster.”

“Alright, alright.” came the chuckling from the boy who listened on making sure they didn’t know he had change out of his costume into a new set of clothes rather than his pajamas.

With a sigh of relief, he waited till he heard their bedroom door shut before he made sure to close his door tight to make it seem like he was finally asleep after a night of trick or treating.

He walked over to his window, opening it before climbing down as carefully as possible, soon hopping onto the grass next to his house. After taking just a few steps, he stood still as he heard somebody speaking.

“Cosmos?”

He held his breath for a moment, not wanting to respond to the soft voice.

“Cosmos? Is that you?”

...yes.”

“What are you doing outside?” Cosmos walked towards the next nearest window, a lit pumpkin right on the still in front of Cosmos’s little sister who was still wearing her costume no doubt.

“Um...I was taking the faster route to the backyard, especially since mom and dad would tell me to go back inside.”

“Liar.”

"I’m not lying!” Cosmos exclaimed in a whisper while Jelly pet the pumpkin in front of her, making sure its flame didn’t go out. “Okay, okay...I’m gonna go hang out with Ace, that’s all.”

“I wanna go.”

“What? No! It’s past your bedtime Jelly. Besides, there’s going to be a lot more spooky stuff and I don’t want you to see any of it.”

“Is that why you have egg cartons behind your back?” Jelly plainly blinked at her brother who pinched the bridge of his nose. He loves his sister and would do anything for her, but tonight...at least what he was about to do, he didn’t want her involved. Maybe when she was older.

“We’re just gonna have some Halloween fun is all.”

“I wanna go.”

“Jelly-”

“Well, okay.”Jelly gave a small shrug, her finger trailing around the pumpkin’s cuttings. “I should call daddy in here, tell him I need a glass of water. Maybe he should take one to your room too.”

_____________

With a large, orange lollipop in one hand, and her brother’s hand in the other, Jelly licked her candy as she walked down the sidewalk besides Cosmos. She glanced around the neighborhood, some decorations still on and on display, others not so much.

How sad, she thought to herself, looking to the front as she and her brother came across pumpkin remains on the ground. Jelly stopped walking, as her did her brother, right before she let go of his his hand and touched the remains.

Soon enough, every piece shook, moving across the ground as they all assembled into their previous selves. The once again pumpkins even lit up inside, not a single crack in sight.

“You know, you don’t have to bring every smashed pumpkin we come across back.”

“But I want to. They never deserved such treatment.” Jelly continued walking, taking another lick of her lollipop. “Besides, people require them so they are protected during Samhain.”

“Of course, sorry. Is that why you’re still wearing your costume, Little Miss Riding Hood?” Cosmos chuckled at his sister who gave a nod. “Hey look, we’re here.”

Cosmos pointed to a large house, obviously abandoned as there was nobody in sight and there were no Halloween decorations.

“Took you long enough. Thought you wouldn’t come.”

“Sorry, I had a bit of a hold up.” Cosmos opened the gate as he lead Jelly through the front yard, and she admired all the dead plant life.

“Why’s she here?”

“She, uh...it doesn’t matter.” Cosmos and Jelly now stood in front of a boy around Cosmos’ age. “You grab anything?”

“Some rocks to smash windows. And these masks.”

“Why are you going to smash windows, Ace?” Jelly looked up at the taller kid who stared down at her with an angry expression, though that was just how he always looked.

“Does she know?”

“No, but I don’t think she’ll tell.”

“We’re smashing windows and throwing eggs, also pulling pranks. On people who don’t give out candy and whatever.”

“Oh.” Jelly blinked up at him, Ace then turning back to Cosmos as he now showed Ace the contents in the backpack he brought along. “What am I going to do?”

“Nothing.”

“Dude.” Cosmos nudged Ace who rolled his eyes. “You are going to...be the backpack carrier. Super special job, especially since-”

“That sounds boring.”

“Well, how about...um...” Cosmos looked around, trying to find some kind of solution, until he caught side of a dead tree. “...you be the life bringer? Yeah! You bring everything in Ace’s yard back to life!”

“Hey! I don’t want nobody touchin’ my-” Ace argued, Cosmos clasping a hand over his mouth.

“I’m sure he won’t mind. Maybe you can even bring up some nice flowers that’ll make it look more Halloween-ish, ya know?”

Jelly gave a nod to her brother who pat her head, then walking away with Ace who didn’t bother looking at her. She watched them walked through the front yard until reaching the gate, Cosmos giving one last wave to Jelly before he and Ace disappeared into the night. Meanwhile, Jelly hopped onto each porch step until reaching the concrete ground, crouching down to touch a flower that soon came back to life.

Jelly continued doing this for a while until she stopped moving, feeling as she was somewhat pulled back. She turned to look for the cause of this, tugging on her red cloak before realizing that it had gotten caught on some old roots or twigs in the ground. So, she attempted to tug the cloth away to no avail, then walking back and manually removing it from whatever it was caught on.

As Jelly reached out to grab it, the twigs gave a twitch before moving and taking hold of Jelly’s wrist which made her gasp and pull back. Jelly pulled as hard as she could until eventually falling backwards, the twig, or hand, whatever it was, it was still grabbing onto her wrist.

Her little legs kicked around, eventually striking something she could tell was a jaw, and she kicked so hard she heard a crack as she was finally released.

“That hurt!” came a strange sounding voice, almost distorted.

Jelly crawled backwards as she stared at the new figure, noticing glowing eyes on a shadow-like body.

“What was that for!?”

As the figure stood up, giving a long stretch as cracks were heard, even when holding its jaw. Jelly was rather confused to see what...who, this was...it just stood there, eventually turning to Jelly with a tilt of its head.

“Wait a minute, who are you?” it now leaned in towards Jelly who glanced to every side before looking back. “Have I seen you somewhere around here?”

She slowly shook her head while the thing lifted a hand, or claw actually, moving away some of Jelly’s fringe that covered her features.

“You smell familiar. But also like fish...and flowers. You smell like a Halloween candy I could just eat up!”

Jelly leaned back before the figure gave a laugh, a rather funny one.

“But I won’t do that, especially because you smell of surprise and not fear, which is what I love to eat. What do you love eating?”

“Fish.” Jelly finally responded, making the figure give a laugh once again.

“So do you speak! But not a very lot, I like that!” they exclaimed, eventually reaching down to the ground next to Jelly, picking up a dead flower. “I saw you were doing something with these tiny things, how about you show me that trick again?”

The child reached over and touched the flower, leaving her hand on it for a while until returning to its former self.

“So, do you just make it look pretty, or-”

“Life.” Jelly interrupted. “Bring it back.”

“...? Oh! Oh I see! You bring it back to life, that’s purely wonderful!” Jelly heard before having her wrist be grabbed again, feeling as she was pulled up onto her feet and started to be dragged. “I have this funny game we should play! We should go to the cemetery right now and try some tricks on the-”

“Wait!” Jelly dug her little feet into the ground, making the figure turn to her pretty surprised. “I have to stay...wait for my brother...”

“Blegh, brother! Who needs brothers? Or even sisters? Especially parents?”

“Me...I love them all...”

“Well I hate mine! Now come on, I don’t think that brother of yours would mind! I like you a really lot already, we could be great friends!”

“Friend?”

“Oh yeah! Maybe more or whatever they say, you have really cool tricks from what I can tell and-” the figure stopped moving, which had been walking turned into floating, as another figure now stood in front of them. “Who the heck are you?”

“Leave the child alone. Make like a tree, and leave.”

“What? But why?”

“Now.”

Jelly peeked from behind the figure, her wrist being released again as she looked into green eyes that glared at the one in front of her.

“Why should I? I just want a friend is all.”

“Because I said so.”

“You can see him too?” Jelly whispered, astonished and everything she was hearing and seeing.

“Well, no.”

“No?”

“I’m not leaving her! You can’t make me!”

“Do you really want to try me?”

“What are you gonna do, huh?” the one in front of Jelly asked, seeing how the new person leaned closely into their face with a deep frown. “Ya know what? I don’t got time for this, I’ll just leave. Idiot ruining our fun.”

They soon got on all fours, crawling away from Jelly before sinking into the ground as only their torso and head were left out of the ground.

“Happy Halloween, Jelly~”

Soon enough , they disappeared and from what could be told, actually left rather than just bury themself in the ground. Jelly turned to the other person who continued glaring at the spot, then turning to Jelly with a soft smile.

“What are you doing out here all alone?”

“Cosmos left with Ace to prank people.” Jelly shrugged before feeling a cold air hit her shoulder as the person placed a hand on it, technically speaking.

“Come, let us go back to your home.”

“But what about-”

“Cosmos can deal with it once he rushes back home in a panic. I am sorry to say this, but he deserves the frantic panic and scolding from your mother that he will receive once home.”

“Oh, okay.” Jelly nodded, walking alongside the person who made sure nobody else was around, just to be safe. They accompanied Jelly who did not realize that glowing eyes were staring at her and the person from behind some Halloween displays, but her friend sure did.

“Jelly?”

“Yes?”

“You are a very special girl. Make sure you roam around this world and others as carefully as possible. Everybody wants a special girl like you.”

5 notes · View notes

olympusintelligence · 5 years

Text

Part 1 Chapter 3

6/6/2018 13:00 (Hong Kong Time) St. Raphael’s Catholic Cemetery

Helen’s funeral was held two weeks after the explosion.

Her parents passed away long ago, so only her brother Christian handled her funeral. He did not allow Kyle to help, and only invited him, his parents and few of his colleagues to attend it.

They met for very few times, but they were like water to fire. Kyle never got in his way, but after their first meeting he just started a quarrel with him for no apparent reason whenever they met. In every conflict Helen was torn in the middle, persuading both men to compromise.

Fortunately he did not work in Hong Kong, otherwise Kyle would have no single good day. He only knew Christian was an Undersecretary of a bureau inside the Department of State, which meant he had to work in the US and overseas for a long time, but having little knowledge of civil service in the US, he did not really know his actual rank, position and job duties. By the way, he always provoked him to quarrel with him when he visited Helen, or encountered him in Hong Kong or Los Angeles during his business trips or holidays.

Though Kyle was truly furious at his brother-in-law for his hostility towards him, he did not dare to complain this time.

He lost his lover, while he lost his only family member on earth.

21/5/2018 0:00 (Hong Kong time) Kyle’s home

Kyle tried to call Christian, who was somewhere in the world, but similar to the past Christian never answered or returned a call, and never responded to his Whatsapp message either. After a thorough thought, Kyle finally texted him, and very rarely within thirty seconds he replied, “Thanks. I’ll come ASAP.”

After the DVIU notified him the time and location of verifying the victim’s corpse, he texted his brother-in-law again. Four days later, his brother-in-law arrived at the morgue fifteen minutes earlier. Though he did dress up, he looked languid, as if he had had insomnia for days. Black circles were below the similar beautiful honey brown eyes, and his face was almost sickly pale. It was the first time Kyle witnessed his brother-in-law being so wretched. Helen’s death had clearly crushed him.

In his impression, no matter how Christian had been picky towards him, he was a soft-spoken gentleman. Perhaps due to his long years in diplomacy, he was very concerned about his image. Whenever Kyle met him, he had dressed himself like a reliable executive - there must be a fine tailored suit, with a Kenneth Cole automatic watch or smartwatch on his right wrist, and dashing leather shoes . Helen was certainly a beauty, and with the similar facial features and clear pale skin, Christian was just handsome. He was about eight years older than Helen, but as a man reaching the middle age, no signs of fatigue could be spotted on him. He had a well-proportioned figure, and a mature man’s charisma.

That’s why Kyle often suspected Christian only judged him based on his appearance. His average appearance and his daily T-shirt and jeans outfit might have offended him. Kyle had discussed this with Helen before, but she just briefly said, ‘Well, it only shows that he has recognized you as part of our family. He’s not that direct when he rebukes his subordinates.’ Kyle really did not know how to react to her, and she just smiled coyly.

He had doubts about Christian’s identity. He should only be a civilian official in the Department of State, but during a dinner they had together, he noticed calluses had been developed all over his left palm, indicating he was a frequent firearm user. In the age of Web 2.0, he still had not opened any other social network accounts. And when they invited him to their engagement party, he only claimed he was too busy to show up, but during their video conference, when Kyle asked him whether he could record a video clip to convey his blessing to them instead, the siblings strangely responded that he could not attend any public function or have his appearance recorded on any camera. Still Kyle at that time just sensed that Christian had never wholeheartedly recognized him as his brother-in-law, so he did not bother to attend the engagement party or give them his blessing.

But everything became trivial soon after Helen died.

Christian followed the forensic technician to enter the morgue after waiting for Kyle. With strong restraint he just drily said to him, ‘I hope it’s not my sis.’

However, in less than ten minutes, Kyle heard a melancholic scream from afar, which he recognized was from his seemingly calm brother-in-law. At that moment, Kyle knew there was no miracle on earth. His fiancee was really in that morgue.

Ten minutes later, Christian came back with a ghastly pale face. He warned him, ‘You really shouldn’t go in. I fear you can’t live with it.’

Kyle had the resolve to see her one last time. He had already been this far. Of course he would not back down. Following the forensic technician, he stepped into the world of the dead through the entrance of the morgue. The forensic technician cautiously reminded him, ‘I heard you’re her fiance. You must be mentally prepared for what comes next. Shall we proceed?’

‘Yes.’ With no regrets.

The forensic technician sighed and brought him into the unusually cold morgue. The corpses were stored in their own refrigerators. Kyle’s thin jacket could not shield him from the coldness that belonged to the dead. It sent shivers down his spine.

They both reached an open room. When Kyle looked inside, his eyes widened in fear…...

Helen’s corpse was placed on a steel bed. Perhaps it was not her entire corpse…...They were just burnt pieces. Only a well-trained, experienced forensic pathologist could distinguish which piece belonged to which part of her body. Even after a few days, they still contained the smell of burnt ashes.

He knew why his brother-in-law collapsed. The sight was too devastating for any of her loved ones to bear. When she was still alive she was such a sweet beauty, but after she passed away…...

Out of the blue, he became drowsy. His unconsciousness seemed to have filtered out many details. He could neither see the forensic technician and another forensic scientist who just arrived at the room nor hear their words clearly. As if escaping from the grip of a beast, he just ran away. And he only kneeled on the floor and cried out loud when he finally reached a corridor.

Kyle did not notice his brother-in-law also staying on the corridor. He had hid himself at a corner about two meters away from him, but he did not plan to wait for him. Instead he intently studied his facial expressions and behavior. Every expression on his countenance and every tear could not escape his eagle eye. He no longer appeared traumatized after Kyle made his way into the morgue, and Kyle, the forensic technician and the forensic pathologist still did not find out he had been acting all along.

6/6/2018 14:30 (Hong Kong Time) St Raphael’s Catholic Cemetery

Christian arranged a Christian funeral for his sister, and he only invited four of her fellow classmates to join. Strangely he did not invite any of her colleagues at her gallery. He spoke little with Kyle, except simply greeted him. Kyle’s parents also felt he was too cold and resentful, but they did not reprimand him, as it was after all his sister’s funeral.

The weather was too good, and the sun was too bright for a funeral.

The priest was reciting Catholic hymns and prayers while the attendees were listening in silence.

Kyle was still preoccupied with deep melancholy. Kyle’s parents tried to console him, but they could not come up with any appropriate words.

Kyle was actually still alert of his surroundings . He still acutely sensed a man among the attendees glared at him. It did not just indicate animosity alone, but it might be an intent to murder him.

When every one placed their flowers on his fiancee’s grave, he finally located the man. The Caucasian man ia serious-looking black suit was about the same age as Helen, and he had a rather boyish face, with an all-back dark brown hair. However, his azure eyes with the shape of an almond displayed a feature distinct from his youth - They seemed to be the embodiment of the deep ocean itself.

Kyle thought only those men who witnessed too much darkness in their lives had such eyes, but he did not look slightly like a soul who had been through numerous tests of hardship. In fact, they never knew each other. How could he be hostile to him?

Having offered a bouquet of lilies on the grave, he courteously spoke with Christian a bit. Then he just emotionlessly said to him, ‘I am sorry for your loss.’ In a rather detached manner , he introduced himself as Andrew Hector, Helen’s classmate in Caltech.

Kyle put his suspicions aside, as it seemed Andrew just perceived him as a stranger.

After the funeral ended, many attendees left. Kyle withdrew himself from getting immersed in his melancholy. He glanced around but neither Christian nor Andrew was in his sight .

Worried about his mental state, Benny and Kyle’s parents proposed to escort him home. Still he had a gut feeling that he might be able to dig up some leads, so he calmly turned it down, and just mentioned he hoped to stay with Helen for a bit longer. As the trio knew Kyle had made up his mind, they chose to respect him, and only reminded him to call them whenever he needed them. They were quite worried that he might become mad when he was alone, so before they left they let him take care of Toby, a fat corgi his parents had been taking care of, with the hope that it may bring him some solace.

His instinct was right. When he led the always slow Toby to crawl towards a chapel, he spotted two bodyguards guarding its main entrance. He took another path to find its backdoor, but again he noticed another bodyguard stationed there. Such cautious security measures must be meant to bar anyone from entering the chapel and eavesdropping whatever took place inside.

Inside the chapel

‘Your status is too sensitive. Why haven’t you brought anyone with you?’ asked Andrew. His dark blue eyes showed earnest concern for Christian. Both men sat on the same bench, but kept some distance between them.

They were neither Christians nor Catholics. They knew too well they had committed crimes, and there was no need to see a statue of Mary or Jesus to be reminded of that. They only met at such time in such place for a secret, secure exchange of intelligence.

‘I’m on bereavement and I’m only here for the funeral. There’s no need to bring anyone with me. I’m not going to intervene in the station’s operation here. The other side won’t dare to bug me as they are too preoccupied with the explosion case. Our French friends have been busy from the start, so they won’t keep an eye on me at all.’ Christian did not thank him for his concerns, and instead responded with a sardonic smile. ‘But your organization’s methods are way too brutal. That’s why you must have at least three bodyguards with you wherever you go.’

‘Your ‘firm’ is the major beneficiary of our work,’ rebuffed Andrew. ‘I tried to persuade our boss not to go too far, but as you know, an old man is reluctant to change his ways.’

‘Oh, is he really an old man? Ha! Please don’t let him know you’ve talked behind his back in front of me.’ Christian found it hard to take in Andrew’s comments. He knew too well no matter how old was his organization’s leader, he was never an average old man.

‘No matter what happened in the past, at least we’re on the same side now, and I’ve always been on your side. If your ‘firm’ or my boss knows about this, we’ll have to contain a hurricane.’ Andrew looked at Christian with sincerity.

‘As long as there’s no new evidence, it must only stay between us .’ Both men seemed to have reached consensus, but Christian quickly switched the turn of the conversation. , ‘Still was that explosion from our side or your side? I can see you’ll have much trouble ahead.’

‘And Kyle is just a layman. He doesn’t know a damn thing about us. I’m warning you not to do anything to him. I’ve just noticed you really wish him dead.’

He did not forget to warn Andrew, as he knew too well the young man was scheming, and he had kept his desire to murder Kyle well-hidden for a long time.

20 minutes later

Kyle was a few meters away from the church and waited patiently for twenty minutes until the three bodyguards left to escort the mysterious Andrew outside. Together they boarded a black SUV and left. Five minutes later, Christian also left the church and drove his own white SUV away.

Well, what kind of relationship do these two men have? Kyle and Toby glanced at each other. He could not think of any answer.

Later he searched for Andrew Hector’s background on the search engine -He was the founder and CEO of Vid, a startup unicorn that operated the recently popular social media app VidChat. It was headquartered in the US, and as a private company it had an estimate valuation of at least US$2 billion. He seemed to be a low-profile talented tech tycoon who mostly stayed away from any public occasions.

What kind of connection does a tech tycoon share with a diplomat in the Department of State?

—

@whataremetaphor @pilipalea @ill-write-when-im-dead @requiemesque @adie-dee @things-waiting-to-be-written

5 notes · View notes

ssr-moonlore · 5 years

Text

In Depth Profile of Gretz

This is going to go VERY deep and very much into Main Story Quest Spoiler Territory so I’m gonna put the unnecessary stuff under a read more.

Full name: Unknown, She hasn’t given out that information. Race: Erune, techincally a Revenant. Elemental Attunement: Water Occupation: Captain of the Grandcypher, Mage, but can probably beat most people in a sword fight. Charge Attack names: Originally “Lainetav Meri” then becomes “Vaikne Ookean” Parents: Both parents are Erune, Father is from Zinkenstill, Mother from Lumacie. Mother died at giving birth, father is currently in Estalucia. Siblings: Twin sister, deceased.

Aaaand the rest can go into a Read More because this is where things go very detailed and I’m not gonna clog the tag with my ramblings! This is basically her backstory, and parts of the MSQ retold to fit Gretz

I’m gonna warn you all now that this is a brainfart and probably badly written because there’s like... facts and story and it’s all written like a mess, but hopefully explains enough.

So... I suppose the story should start from the beginning. Gretz’s father was an incredible mage and the leader of his own skyfarer crew, and he started young, younger than Gretz when she began her journey. Somewhere along the way, Gretz’s father met Margrite, a rather plain Erune woman from Lumacie. The two fell in love but her father kept the relationship a secret. Before long, Margrite found out she was pregnant, and out of the blue, Gretz’s father disbanded his crew and hid with Margrite and wanted to simply start a family with her.

Things went horribly wrong, however, when both Margrite and one of the twins perished during birth. The circumstances were strange, they simply started failing, and even though Gretz’s father was very well versed with healing magic, to the point where he could bring someone back from the bring and regrow their limbs... his magic didn’t catch. Nothing he, or any of the other healers did could save Gretz’s mother or twin. Margrite’s soul was beyond saving, but a little sliver of the dead twin’s essence was still there, and the father managed to grab onto it.

Gretz’s father stayed with Margrite’s family for a while, until his guilt got overbearing, and he decided to go back home, to his mother’s home. Things were quite relaxed for many years, Gretz grew up strong, and wasn’t really bothered by the fact that she didn’t have a mother. Her dad never mentioned the twin.

He taught her magic, and passed down his ability to cast magic without any arcane instruments, but instructed Gretz to never show that ability to anyone. She never truly understood why this type of magic had to be kept secret, but she played along.

When she was 8, her father’s crew had tracked him down, and much to his dismay, they were incredibly angry and wanted him to get back into skyfaring. Gretz was instructed to hide, her presence was to be kept a secret from the crew, who would otherwise want her to join was well, given that she was HIS daughter, and probably inherited his powers. So Gretz hid. She hid until her grandmother came to fetch her and Vyrn, and so Gretz was left without her father. The little girl was left grief stricken, being only told that she will find something very important when she was ready.

So she stayed there on Zinkenstill until at the age of 21, she saw the girl with the blue hair falling from the sky, and her fate was sealed. She valiantly defended this strange girl, only to be struck down by a hydra. In the process her soul tied with Lyria’s, but another entity was brought into the mix. A terrifying fighter spirit with an opposing power to Gretz’s, the ability to void magic utterly. Gretz would not find out about this other spirit until much later, when stakes would grow bigger and lives were endangered more, but until then, she, Vyrn, Lyria and Kat went on to create a skyfarer crew.

Most of the story follows the main story quest, bar for a few differences, most notably, when Not Gretz appears. She’d appear any time when Lyria would be sure to get hurt, other times when things seem hopeless for Gretz. Her body remained the same but the aura surrounding the Erune was different, cold, devoid of joy. Her mannerism was harsh, sarcastic, almost evil. Most of the time, the crew would spare any people who got in their way, opting to convince them to take a better walk of life, but not this person. With impossible precision and immense power and speed, a jagged spear would cut down all who dared to harm the Red Dragon or the Girl in Blue, or even the vessel herself. These “possessions” were short, but left Gretz a mess for several days. The scar on her stomach that almost ripped her in half that would never fade no matter how hard she tried to get rid of it would tear open, crippling her. They would all inevitably heal, but it seemed that whatever shared Gretz’s body had a vendetta against her and wanted to make it obvious to everyone.

As the crew land on Lumacie, they take on a job to clear out an old cemetery that’d been overrun, and Gretz comes across a very familiar name. That leads to her getting a little hint to her other grandparents, and she tracks them down. The old pair receive her warmly, shocked at how much she looks like her father but having her mother’s eyes, never saying anything bad about her father and that her mother’s death was just an unfortunate situation but wasn’t anyone’s fault. Gretz then keeps regular correspondence with her mother’s parents, and is happy to have found more family.

The next most important event happens after the crew flees Lumacie following their defeat at the hands of a corrupted Yggdrasil. They go to Zinkenstill, where they find that Gretz’s paternal grandmother had passed, leaving her shaken to the core. The crew presses on though, determined to save the islands from the Empire. At the shrine, Vyrn falters, prompting Sturm to raise her weapons at him, only to be swiftly swatted to the side violently by a powerful black spear. Not Gretz takes on the agent duo, her antimagic nature completely cripping Drang and pinning Sturm against a tree with her own swords, though not killing them outright, as “it would interfere with The Other too much.” Before having the shit utterly beaten out of him, Drang did manage to find out who the spirit was, though only cryptically being told that she was “the one who never made it.”

The assault was cut short as Furias’ invasion of the island was deemed far more interesting a fight for the entity. The invasion didn’t last, and soon everyone would return to the ship for a rest, Not Gretz relinquishing control of the body back to Gretz just so she could see the injured Drang and Sturm drag themselves back onto the ship. Needless to say, Gretz, feeling like a monster, attempted to hide from shame, only to pass out from her stomach being ripped open again.

The healers all scrambled to get her back whole again, and no major injuries except for Gretz’s pride. The following morning, before the sun would crest the mountains, she managed to drag herself out of her bedroom, and tip toed off the ship, silently, not telling anyone. Vyrn, however, seemed to know something was off and found her, weeping at her grandmother’s grave, and suggested that the two go and do a favourite early morning passtime of theirs. The two quietly went onto a hill, and Gretz began to call out. Her voice sorrowful, but the echo in the mountains beautiful, and after a moment they’d hear the typical clanging of cow bells as the herd ran over to inspect the calls.

The two of them were followed by another pair. By Drang’s suggestion, he and Sturm followed the captain to see what she’d do, ghosting around like that, all mysterious. It didn’t take long for Gretz to notice, and in her weakened state, she became petrified and convinced the two would want revenge. A little slip on the wet dewy grass left her tumbling off a steep hill and straight into a fencepost and she felt a bit too weak and in pain to do anything so she simply curled up and started to weep. Drang and Sturm, both taken aback at this display of vulnerability rush up to her and Drang offers a little healing to close up the cut on her forehead, Sturm simply propping her up. Gretz, confused and scared simply starts rambling about how she thought they’d kill her. The agents shook their heads and deny that being their goal, though Drang wants to know more about the entity in her.

Upon hearing the phrase that the entity is the one who “didn’t make it” Gretz realized that the entity could be none other than her deceased twin, though she then became even more confused as to how her twin who died at birth would have those abilities. One question answered, 10 more now taking it’s place.

After cleaning herself up a bit, Gretz spots a strange glint in the distance, in the middle of the field. Squinting at it, she spots a familiar relic, her father’s staff. Though weak, and hurting, and confused, her legs simply begin to move and she recovers the staff. The stone in the middle shining just as bright at she remembered it.

The 4 return to the ship, where the rest of the crew is restless and panicking looking for their captain. Relieved to find her unharmed, the crew quiets down, though Gretz now has a new resolve to go and save Yggdrasil, so after Vyrn releases whatever the hell was in the shrine, the crew goes to face the menace.

During that fight, it seems quite hopeless but Gretz manages to unleash magic to a crazy amount. Her innate spellcasting meant that she didn’t need tools to cast magic, but she remembers that she can siphon magic in from other sources than just herself. After basically destroying several staves and tools by sucking out all the magic and basically almost turning herself into a being of pure mana, she manages to get a hit strong enough to defeat Yggdrasil, but then immediately gets slammed full force into a rock cliff by one of the snake tentacles. Her spell took away all noise in the area and the sickening crack of her body hitting the rock face was more than enough to make the whole crew imagine the worst.

Luckily, being made of pure magic meant that in that state her body was basically unable to die from injuries, though she immediately requested help to fix her numerous broken bones. Lyria was NOT allowed to see the body. Everyone else still has nightmares.

After that... The crew follows the main story aside from a few minor differences, but Gretz accepts the whole “Singularity” business pretty well but then realizes that she really DID cause the deaths of her mother and sister. Lyria manages to pacify the spirit, and Emmeliine is given an official position in the crew, and Gretz no longer gets torn up every time a possession takes place. The crew are looking into getting a golem made for Emmeliine so she and gretz can exist in the physical realm at the same time. Em is still very spicy and mean, but no longer AS murderous. She’s still able to beat the shit out of the crew.

I hope??? These ramblings make sense?? I wanted to make a comic of this but my hand hurts and in fic format it’d take too long.

Yes my self-insert is a fucking Mary Sue with Deep Issues and a Dead Twin Ghost Spirit whatcha gonna do about it.

#Captain Gretz #The Turquoise Captain #Long Post #Gretz is 57 levels of fucked up #she just wants to find her dad #and her dad didn't want to leave home and leave her behind #Gretz's Dad is Good

6 notes · View notes