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trulyumai · 1 year ago

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Oh, Mr mosses (Series!) V

Synopsis: You were fine with the job, the steps were easy enough but the secret of the D.D.D was getting harder and harder to contain. Each night a new entity would enter the building, each with its own horrific look and intentions. Just as you debate on leaving, a new resident has entered the premises; Francis Mosses who is absolutely entranced by your being. Now, his Mimic has taken a liking to you too.

Will you be as smitten of them as they are of you? Only time will tell.

Author Note: Hello everyone, a bit longer of a chapter but thats okay! After Thursday I will be final free! Which means I'll have more time for writing and answering requests, thank you for your patience! <3

Warnings: Blood, Obsessive/Possessive behavior, Stalking, Talk about Death, Mutilation.

Also available on AO3!

Taglist: @tfamidoingwithmylife @mariaflor873 @fandomfeind @greycloudsy @skully-skeleton-bone0106 @im-here-for-the-fun-of-it @the-tiger-lover78 @itoshilvr @wilddreamer98 (Let me know if you want to be added!)

God, even the way she laid there, limp against the office wall was everything to him.

Biting down on 28 only crunches and squelches echoed through the room, the said man laid in pieces by his feet.

He casually sat there in her squeaky chair, munching on a limb like it was normal; an everyday hobby.

Humming a familiar tune he threw the rest of the arm past him, somewhere towards the cabinets, he had to guess.

With his feet on the desk he sighed.

Soon the D.D.D would learn of his presence, his safety would be at risk and his little toy would be in even more danger than she already was.

Maybe he would take her, hide her away to be his little wife. That is what they’re called, aren’t they?

First things first; he had to dispose of the replica.

Clicking his teeth he scratched his nails on the wood beside him.

That fucking fool. A useless mirror image he copied.

He had to learn everything about the man before taking his face; starting with his job, his hobbies, his routes, down to the fucking shampoo he preferred. Until it got to his favorite area, the most recent addition in his life; the pretty receptionist.

He knew it would be so easy to manipulate the woman. Her mind was so weak compared to him, with just a tad bit of bending (Mentally and a bit physically), he molded her perfectly for him.

Enough to not only get access to the building, but to her as well.

She groaned as she laid there, she must be having a nightmare. He hoped it involved him, with some image of the mimic biting chunks out or flesh, kissing them as he went on. Holding back a grin he decided to move her, before someone else were to poke their nose in the already bloodied business of theirs. He pulled her up until she reached his chest and eyed the old corroded clipboard by the door.

Going down the list of names he got to her; room 24 Level 2.

Stepping through the red he rubbed his feet on 28’s corpse, letting the leftover blood dry on his once white, button up. We wouldn’t want a little trail now would we?

Clicking the green button he passed 28 once more, whistling lowly as the elevator pushed its doors open with a groan.

Stepping in his clawed finger pressed the second button on the wall, watched as the doors came together with a satisfying thunk.

Belly satiated and full, he looked down at the woman in his arms, her head was lolled to the side, leaning firmly on his chest. Grinning wide he bent towards her, pressing a sloppy, bloody kiss to her forehead, cheek and nose.

The box dinged once again, the doors slid open loudly to indicate their arrival to her floor.

Walking through the corridor, he read the numbers idly

10, 12, 14,

A turn left

16, 18, 20-

A creek escaped, some neighbor had opened their door, just up ahead.

It was that rich suited prick.

“Ah! Francis, lovely to- is that the receptionist?” His grin was hesitant, eying the girl with bloody marks on her face.

He could kill him now, but it would be more of a mess to deal with, he doubted he could hide another body from the D.D.D.

Mustering up a smile, his sharp teeth gritted together.

“She’s ah, not feeling well,” attempting to move past the pompous man and walk towards her door just steps away, the man stopped them once more and put a hand out for extra measure.

Growling he slowly turned, met the eyes of the man once more.

“Do we have a problem,” he gritted, claws digging into the poor girl below him.

“Well- ah, tell her to visit me when she feels up to it,”

He put his hand back at his side, rubbing his fingers idly.

“I have a job opportunity for her, you see!”

Not bothering to waste anymore time, he pressed on to her room. Ignoring the suited man's stares as he clicked her key into place, shoving them both inside before slamming the door.

“Fucking prick.” He muttered.

But now he was all alone, could touch and prod at the girl with no interruptions.

Looking around he noticed the apartment was tidy; everything had a place, plants sat by the darkened windowsill and beside them, a full bookcase was laid about. Her kitchen was spotless, only a few decorative items littered the counters while the sink was, of course, empty.

Holding her up with one hand he scratched at his gums, pieces of bone were starting to prod against his teeth, becoming more annoying than painful.

Looking for her bedroom he propped open a door with his shoulder, and with a thump, dumped her unceremoniously on the mattress.

It was then, he realized.

“Oh fuck.”

Bolting angrily back towards the door, the hallway and elevator as fast as he could, he bit down on his annoyingly human cheek; hard.

He left the elevator unlocked.

Any other mimic could come through freely and he really couldn’t have that.

Another competition for his food? Yeah no, fuck that. He hated how territorial his kind was, made everything a pain in the ass to retrieve and made survival even more strenuous.

It’s why he found himself here; In this little rundown apartment, with surprisingly good security.

Being denied and caught over and over made everything so much more satisfying, because he knew that if he waited- stuck around for the right moment, he’d get in.

Watched plenty of his kind die too, before deciding to take a shape of his own, and finally, making his way to the pretty and gullible receptionist.

Mashing the first floor button he clawed at his face, light red marks dented down with each press of his fingers.

Ironically enough, he’s the one that has to distinguish between what’s real and fake now.

Waiting for the elevator he growled.

“What a pain in the ass.”

——

The milkman was tired. Getting in, absolutely no one was there to check his ID, and he wondered if the receptionist was okay (Yet again). It seemed that lately, that’s all he could think about. Her health, the way she smiled, her pretty hands.

Not once had she missed any of her shifts, and although he had only been there for a short time, he would always hear from the neighbors how dutiful she was.

Come sickness, fatigue, anything, she would be there.

Walking past the office, his fingers shook cautiously by his sides.

Enough was enough, he would talk to her, he couldn’t avoid her forever and his little, “crush,” wasn’t going away anytime soon.

So with a long intake of air. He pressed her floor number.

It was now or never.

The doors closed, and the travel up began.

Floor1

Ding!

Floor 2

Ding!

With his head pointed downwards he heard the doors sliding open before walking forward, passing a quick figure to his left. Not bothering to greet them he kept his head down.

The anxiety was getting to him and wait- he didn’t even know what room she was in!

Head up, he turned back toward the figure that passed him.

They obviously resided on this floor, maybe he could attempt to ask them about her room without completely looking like a creep.

But what he saw he just couldn’t explain- rationally describe.

His face stared back at him, it was set in a scowl while he noticed vast amounts of blood adorned his usually crisp white shirt. The doors were on their way to closing, and this version of him reached out to stop it.

He was too late, the metal doors crashed together and Francis could feel his heart jumping out of his chest.

What the actual fuck was going on.

Was he that tired?

Grabbing his face he turned back, mumbling incessant comforts to stop the beats of his heart from getting any faster.

He needed to find her room, and fast.

The first thing she noticed was her head. It boomed with an unfathomable amount of pressure, and she was hesitant to open her eyes.

She felt around, immediately recognizing the comfort of her own duvet, the silkiness of her pillows, the faint wafts of the candle she lit the night prior. It calmed the tenseness found between her shoulders, instantly relaxing against the cushioned material.

With a muffled groan she allowed her eyelids to slink up, her messy room greeted her vision.

Not remembering the trip up, she laid there, stretched out and confused.

Craning her head just off the side of the bed, the receptionist glanced towards the hallway; to her front door that was wide open.

Jerking up, her feet collided with one another, and looking more like a newborn calf than human she attempted her way to the front of the room.

Never before had a fatigue caused this much confusion; chaos to her mind.

Something had to be wrong.

She remembered clocking in, idly sitting by as the clock ticked and ticked. After that it was all blank- it startled her to no end.

With a hand on the door frame her figure leaned on the wall, just outside her abode.

Biting her lip she held back a whimper, the bright lights of the hall burned her eyes, she tried to go off of memory, closing her eyes as she felt for every familiar bump and groove of the space.

Turning to where she remembered the elevator was, someone bumped into her- hard.

“My goodness!” That voice… could it really be?

“Francis?” Squinting her eyes she blinked repeatedly, trying to get the figure to focus in her vision.

“H-Hey,” the deep voice answered back, smiling, as she knew it was the tired mailman. Only he could have such a serious yet flustered sounding voice.

“I've been looking for you,”

The man gripped the girl's shoulders, light yet firm and bent down just to meet her gaze.

“Some… things have been happening, I wanted to see if you were okay.” Flustered, the girl forced out a laugh, taking a hand off her shoulder she gripped it softly.

“I'm okay, you look more disheveled than me, big guy, what's up?” Kneading the flesh around his knuckles the man couldn't help but relax.

She smelled so good- of lilac and vanilla, it invaded his senses and corrupted his mind. He couldn't even remember the duplicate until it was shoved back by his consciousness.

Letting out a low moan he shook his head. ‘Focus Francis, god-’

“I have to talk to you,” he blurted out, face getting warmer as she paused her movement, and looked right at him.

Letting out a giggle she rested her arm, just so it leaned comfortably in the crook of his elbow.

“Okay? My rooms around the corner, if you wanna talk there?”

Not relying on his words he nodded his head, letting the girl lightly pull his arm to her apartment.

Now, he just had to figure out how to explain his bloody twin.

Should be easy!

And if she calls him crazy, and ultimately pushes him out of the apartment- possibly building, at least he got to get this close to her.

Smelling her, touching her, it was better than living alone with his thoughts- tormenting him every hour of the week that he lazily spent thinking about her anyway.

Inhaling her flowery scent once more he shuddered, he hoped the pretty girl would believe him, so he could once more bask in her presence and ignore every little thing around.

#francis mosses x reader #horror #thats not my neighbor #francis mosses #francis mosses x you #game x reader #horror game #x reader #fanfiction #romance #Mimic #Thank you Caseoh for showing me this game ILY

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 2 years ago

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Corpse Bride

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Dead!Reader

Word Count: ~6.6k

Warnings: marrying the dead, if you've seen the movie, then you know what to expect. if you haven't seen the movie, then go watch it. it's amazing

Summary: Your hopes and dreams were taken from you in the blink of an eye. You're destined to spend eternity in the viel, waiting for your Prince Charming to show up. When he does, he claims it was a mistake. How can you convince him to stay? Will you get your second chance at love?

Square Filled: character death (2022) for @cmbingo

Author’s Note: this is one of my favorite movies, so I decided to write a story based on it.

Spencer paces the forest floor nervously with the engagement ring in his hand. He’s been a nervous wreck ever since he asked his short-term girlfriend to marry him. He’s not ready for marriage whatsoever but his parents and her parents think this marriage is a good thing and will benefit both families. His family is well off while hers is a bit poor. Her family owns a business Spencer’s parents want a part of, so if he scratches her back, she scratches his.

No matter what he does, he can’t seem to get it right. The vows are pretty easy to remember but he can’t seem to get the words out. He likes Maeve a lot and there is potential for love later on down the road but his parents want this to happen now. He left the rehearsal wedding to be on his own to gather his thoughts and feelings about this whole thing.

“I can’t do this. I’m not ready to be a husband. What were my parents thinking?” he thinks out loud. “I like Maeve. I like how she makes me feel but is she ready to be a wife? Does she even want this?”

Spencer paces back and forth with the ring in his hand.

“Come on, Spencer! What am I saying? I can’t do this to Maeve. She deserves everything good coming her way. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I were to walk out on her now? I can do this. Just take it one step at a time.”

Spencer straightens and fixes his tie to make himself look more presentable even though there is no one around but him. He raises his right hand confidently and begins his vows.

“With this hand, I will lift your sorrow.” He grabs a branch nearby and pretends it’s Maeve’s delicate one. “Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine.” He breaks off the branch and pretends it’s the cup of wine he’ll have to lift and drink from at the actual wedding. He walks over to a small stump and pretends it’s a candle that he will have to light. “With this candle, I will light your way in darkness.” He drops the branch and looks over at a set of vines that looks like a human hand. He grabs it gently and takes out the ring so he can slide it on one of the small sticks protruding from the base. “With this ring, I ask you to be mine.”

He slides the ring onto one of the sticks and pulls away with a satisfied smile. This is it, this is the moment you’ve been waiting for. You’ve laid to rest in this forest for almost half a decade just waiting for your Prince Charming to finally come save you. The one you were with did you dirty but you were okay with waiting for the right one to come by, and he’s finally here. The ring he slid on your finger is shiny and delicate just like your feelings.

Spencer looks around the empty forest and decides it’s best if he goes back to his family and does the wedding rehearsal right. Just as he is about to grab the ring, the branch crackles to life. He jumps back in shock as the ground shakes with vigor. The ground cracks and opens to give you enough room to crawl out of your shallow grave.

Spencer yells in shock when he sees a deadly hand shoot up from the ground. It’s like a scene from The Living Dead coming to life. You claw your way out of your grave and stand to your full height, and you grin at the ring on your skeleton finger. Your entire left arm is just your bones as the flesh had been eaten off previously. Your right arm is covered with sickly grey flesh that hasn’t yet been devoured. Most of your body still contains your flesh with holes showing your bones. You’re wearing a dirty white wedding dress that was your mother’s. It goes all the way down to your feet but has a slit in the front of it that goes up to your mid-thigh. It shows off both your legs when you walk--one flesh and one completely bare to the bone.

If Spencer didn’t know any better, he might have thought you were someone from a movie with a bunch of makeup on you. However, he just saw you claw your way back to the surface of Earth like it was nothing.

“My, oh my! What a beautiful ring!” you sing and dance happily around your new husband. Hearing you speak breaks Spencer out of a trance. He quickly gets up and starts running away from you, scared for his life. “Wait! Where are you going?”

Spencer is fast when he thinks his life is in danger, but you know these woods like the back of your hand. You used to sneak out here with your fiance to get away from your lives. That’s back when you thought you were going to be happy for the rest of your life. There are plentiful shortcuts to get to the entrance into the forest, so you take those to catch up to Spencer.

He pants heavily and decides to take a break right on the bridge that separates the town from the forest. He looks behind him but you’re not there. He thinks he’s safe so he turns to walk back into town but stops when you’re right in front of him. He yells and jumps back but you’re not letting him go this time.

“I do. You may not kiss the bride,” you smile.

You grab him and lean in to kiss him but he faints in your arms. You’ve never seen a person faint before. There is someone who can help so you use your deadly powers to summon yourself back into the underworld with Spencer in hand.

“Y/N! New arrival?” your best friend Marcy asks.

“No, it’s my husband.”

“Husband? That dick returned?”

“No, silly. His name is Spencer. He said his vows perfectly and gave me this ring.” You show off the delicate diamond that shines brightly against your white bones. “Isn’t it pretty?”

“What happened to him?”

“He fainted as soon as I kissed him. I’m trying to get him to Dr. Hubert. He’ll be able to help him.”

“Let me help you.”

You two take Spencer over to the doctor’s office even though none of the dead need to be seen by the doctor. He’s often stated it keeps him tied to his humanity. The doctor’s office is located right next to the bar everyone hangs out in so you’re not surprised to see the doctor taking shot after shot.

“Dr. Hubert!”

“Y/N, darling! We’ve missed you. How was the surface?”

“Riveting. I got married,” you grin and show off your ring.

“Splendid! Where is he?”

“Right here,” you say and show him Spencer who is still out cold. “He fainted when I kissed him. Is there something you can do to help him?”

“Oh, my. He’s living!”

Everyone stops their chatter to look over at Spencer. As soon as they hear a living is among them, they all get curious. No living people visit you so it’s amazing when someone does.

“Yes. Can you wake him up?”

“Let me at him!” The small bartender scatters across the bar table using his tiny bug legs. He was decapitated many centuries ago, so the only thing keeping him moving is the bugs that live inside his head. “I can tickle him awake.”

“I don’t think so, Pierre. Let Dr. Hubert handle this one.”

“Yes, I see the problem. Charger, your finest bottle, please.” The other bartender gets the best bottle of alcohol and hands it over to the doctor. He downs a shot before hovering the top of it underneath Spencer’s nose. Spencer gets one whiff of the stuff and shoots awake, like smelling salts. “Works like a charm.”

“Hey, whoa, you’re okay, darling,” you grin and calm him down.

He sees all kinds of dead people in all different stages of decomposition which freaks him out. He scrambles to get up and backs into someone who has a gaping hole in her throat.

“Are you sure he’s the one you married? He looks so scared,” Marcy asks you.

“Yes. He said his vows perfectly. Spencer, please calm down. Let me explain.”

Spencer doesn’t give you a chance because he’s already trying to get away from you. He pushes past many skeletons without knowing where he’s going. All he knows is he needs to get the hell out of here. You sigh and look at everyone who is staring at you.

“I’m sorry. He’s new at all of this. Let me go talk to him.” You follow in his footsteps but calmly. “Spencer! Come back, darling!” Spencer weaves in and out of the crowd, taking left and right turns haphazardly without knowing where it’s going to take him. “Spencer, darling, where are you?” You turn to see his legs disappear around the corner and when you go investigate, you see a set of stairs leading up to the cliffs above. Spencer is sitting on the bench trying to catch his breath. “There you are, silly.” He jumps at your voice and is about to run again but you hold your hands up. “Please don’t run. Let me explain everything.”

“Fine,” he sighs, mostly because he doesn't want to keep running.

You walk to the railing along the cliff’s edge and look at the city below.

“Isn’t this view amazing? It takes my breath away. You know, if I had any,” you chuckle. You walk over to Spencer and join him on the bench, and you smooth down your dress. “I’ll answer any questions you have.”

“What is going on? Who are you? Where am I? Who are all those people down there? Is this a joke? Is this real life?”

“Calm down, love,” you giggle. “One question at a time.”

“I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s Y/N.”

“Where am I?”

“You’re in the Underworld. It’s the place where everyone goes when they die. There is no Heaven or Hell. It’s all one place where we all reside.”

“So, you’re dead?”

“Yes.”

“How did you die?” Spencer’s eyes widen when he realizes how inappropriate that question is. “I’m sorry, it’s none of my business.”

“Spencer, you’re my husband. You can ask me anything you want. I was once in love with someone else. He was much older than I was and he told me everything I wanted to hear. He treated me like I was a princess and roped me in. When I told my parents about him, my father wasn’t thrilled I was with someone like him. He told me to stop seeing him but I wouldn't listen. This man and I decided to elope and run away. The only thing he told me to bring was cash and all the gold I could grab. I thought he wanted that to start our future with.”

Telling this story to someone in such an intimate setting brings you to tears but you refuse to let them fall.

“My mother’s wedding dress fit me like a glove. I waited at the base of the tree where you found me but he didn’t show up. I waited for what felt like hours. I was about to leave when he finally showed up. The last thing I saw was him charging at me. The first thing I saw when I woke up was my wedding dress was torn, my cash and gold were missing, and my skin was cold as ice. I was dead. I laid at the base of that tree for years, waiting for my Prince Charming to save me. Then you came along, and everything fell into place.”

“I‘m sorry,” Spencer sighs. “No one deserves that.”

“It’s in the past. You’re here now. Everything is better.”

“What about all those people down there? Are they all dead?”

“Everyone here is dead except for you. I had to bring you here. You fainted when I kissed you.”

“Can you blame me? The dead don’t rise where I’m from.”

“Fair enough,” you chuckle. “There’s good people down here. They’re super nice. If you allow it, I’d love to introduce you to some of them. Will that be okay?”

Spencer has had some time to wrap his head around this. He’s not panicking anymore, and his breathing is under control. He feels like he can address this with a calm head. He looks over your entire body and sees the ring on your skeleton hand. How the hell did he get himself in this situation?

“Yeah, that’ll be okay,” he nods.

You get up and grab Spencer’s hand that he doesn’t immediately shake off. You take him back down to the bar where everyone is having a good time. Marcy is doing shots with Dr. Hubert, and she waves you over when she sees you.

“That’s my best friend, Marcy. Next to her is Dr. Hubert. None of us need medical help, but he still likes to be called a doctor. It makes him in touch with his humanity.”

“Am I allowed to ask how they died?”

“Marcy’s story is even sadder than mine if you can believe it. I’ll let her tell you if she wants. Dr. Hubert drank himself to death. He wasn’t a bad doctor and was always sober when he was treating patients. He just had too much to drink one night and died.”

Pierre scatters across the bar counter with a tray on his head, passing out shots to people.

“Is that just a head?”

“Yeah, he was decapitated. We can’t find his body, but he’s happy like that. Come on, let me introduce you.” You take him over to the group and tap on Marcy’s shoulders. “Marcy, this is Spencer. He’s calmed down a bit.”

“Spencer! It’s so nice to meet you. You better make my girl happy.”

“Yeah,” Spencer chuckles, not knowing how to respond to that.

“Ah, he’s awake. Would you like a drink?” Pierre offers a shot.

“No, he doesn’t,” you quickly say and lean into Spencer. “You don’t want to drink this stuff.”

Spencer looks around the bar to see skeletons drinking. The liquid passes through them since they are all bones but they still enjoy it. There are others who are cut in half, so he can see the liquid slide down their bodies. Some are completely covered with flesh that looks like humans if not for the sickly grey skin. All these dead people but none of them look scary. In fact, everyone is having a good time just being in each other’s company.

If he’s being honest, this looks like a better time than most humans have up top.

“Come on, let’s sit.”

You take him over to a quiet spot in the corner where you can hear him if he talks. Spencer takes a seat and looks at the band on the stage. They’re all skeletons but they’re using their bodies as part of the instruments. One of them is using their legs as the base for a guitar, one is using a couple of heads as drums, and a bone trumpet. This is so weird but it seems to be working for them. Spencer has always thought there is some sort of life after you die, and this just so happens to be it.

“So, Spencer, tell me about you.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Why were you in that forest in the first place?”

Spencer thinks about the vows he’d been saying and his mind suddenly goes to Maeve who must be worrying crazy about him. He can’t possibly tell you about Maeve. He’s not sure how you’re going to react to that. He thinks of his parents and tries to think of a way to get out of this place.

“I needed some space to think, I guess.”

“By saying wedding vows?”

“My parents wanted me to marry young. I wanted to practice before I needed to use those vows.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, you said them perfectly,” you smile.

“Thanks.”

“What are your parents like?”

“Overbearing at times. They come from money so they often forget what it’s like to live in a world where people don’t have money. Be thankful you don’t have to meet them.” A lightbulb goes off in Spencer’s head. This is how he’s going to get out of here. “You know what, you should meet them. After all, you are my wife.”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea! Where are they buried?”

“Oh, um, they’re not… dead.”

“Oh, they’re still living? My, that does pose a challenge. One that isn’t impossible. I have an idea. Come with me.”

You take him to the one person who knows how to get to the land of the living. He’s been here the longest, one of the firsts. He’s known to many as the Caregiver because he takes care of anyone who seeks him out. His house is located on the other side of town in an old library. His love for books is unmatched by anyone who is here. People from all over come to see the kinds of books he has.

“Wow, I’ve never seen a library quite like this one before.”

The library is run down and has pieces of the building missing but Elder Henry finds it endearing.

“Elder Henry loves this place. Won’t part with it,” you whisper as you walk in. “Elder Henry? Are you around?”

“Whose there?” Elder Henry hobbles out from behind a stack of books and adjusts his glasses to see better. “Ah, Y/N. What a surprise. It’s so good to see you, my dear.”

“Likewise. I’d like you to meet my husband, Spencer.”

“What’s that? Husband?”

“It’s nice to meet you, sir,” Spencer nods politely.

“What brings you two here?”

“We’d like to go to the surface. I know you have a spell for that.”

“Ah, the surface. I’ve never seen the appeal of the living even when I was among them.”

“Is it possible? Can you do it?” Spencer asks eagerly.

“Yes, I can. There are rules, you know. Rules you must follow or else you’ll be sent back here.”

“Which are?”

Elder Henry walks around his area and gathers the things needed for the spell. He never inserts himself in other people’s business so if you want to go to the surface, then he’ll help you get there. He doesn’t need to know why, he doesn’t need to know your intentions, and he doesn’t want to know.

“For one, if you wish to come back, you must say the secret word. Hopscotch.”

“That’s fun to say,” you grin. “Hopscotch!”

“Yes, but you must abide by their rules. After all, you’re a guest in their world. Whatever they say goes, so you must be careful who you talk to.”

“Don’t worry, we’re just going to meet his parents. I’m sure they’ll love me.”

“Are you both sure you want to do this?”

“Yes,” Spencer says a bit too quickly. He clears his throat and says it more calmly this time. “I mean, yes. We do.”

“Alright then.” He takes out the ingredients and mixes them together to create a golden cloud. “Remember, to come back, you must say Hopscotch.”

Elder Henry dumps the cloud onto you and Spencer, and you’re immediately transported to the forest where he married you in the beginning. The moonlight is especially bright this time of night, and you enjoy the smell of fresh air. It’s been so long since you’ve been up here and the thought brings you to tears. You hum happily and start to elegantly dance in circles around Spencer.

“I’ve spent all my time in the darkness, I’ve forgotten how beautiful the moonlight is,” you grin.

He can’t believe he’s going to betray you. He’s wanted nothing more than to get out of that hellhole since arriving. He’s gotten to know you a bit better but not enough to want to love you. There is potential in you, for sure, and you’re such a sweet woman who wants nothing but love. You’re kind, intelligent, free, and you don’t let the bad things that have happened to you stop you from living your life.

How can he walk away knowing he’s not going to his parents?

“Okay, I’m going to go get them. You heard Elder Henry. It’s best if you minimize your contact with the living as much as possible. Just stay here and I’ll go get them.”

“Okay,” you nod and sit down on a tree stump.

“I’ll be right back. Don’t worry, I’ll bring them.”

“I believe you,” you smile. “I’ll wait right here.”

Spencer walks away from you and when he’s far enough away, he looks back at you. You’re dancing and swaying in the moonlight, your dress flowing all around you. His heart is heavy with guilt but he turns back around and continues walking. Only until you’re out of sight does he sprint all the back into town.

He runs by a wall of fliers and stops short when he sees his face on one of them. It’s a missing poster sign with a reward of ten grand on it.

MISSING: SPENCER WALTER REID. IF SEEN, PLEASE CONTACT DIANA AND WILL REID. MISSING SINCE SEPTEMBER 29TH.

That’s more than a week ago. What the hell? Time must pass differently than it does in the Underworld. He passes by his parent’s house and heads straight to Maeve’s parent’s place. He doesn’t want to alert her parents of his arrival so he goes to the back of the house where her bedroom is. Her bedroom has a balcony where she can relax that has glass double doors that lead into the room.

He jumps over the fence and knocks on the window lightly. Meave is sitting on the couch by the fireplace knitting. She jumps at the sudden noise at her back door and turns to see who it is. Her eyes widen when she sees it’s Spencer.

“Spencer!” she gasps and sets her knitting down to approach him. She unlocks the back door and opens it to let him in. “Where have you been? We’ve been looking everywhere for you. Are you alright?”

“I can’t really explain,” Spencer stutters.

Maeve reaches out and touches his hand and pulls away with a gasp.

“You’re as cold as death. What happened to you?”

“Listen, I was very apprehensive last week about getting married to you. We just got into a relationship and I thought I wasn’t ready. I freaked out and left. I guess I needed time to wrap my head around sharing my life with someone. Then something clicked in my head. I want to marry you. I want to be your husband. I want this wedding to happen. I really really like you.”

“Oh, Spencer,” she smiles and caresses his cheek. “I really like you too. Maybe even love.” She leans in to kiss him but Spencer notices something moving outside on Maeve’s balcony. When he sees the white wedding dress, he gasps and staggers back. “Spencer? What’s wrong?”

Before Spencer can say anything, you open the door and allow a huge gust of wind to enter the room. Your veil flows over your head, and you cough as you move it out of your face. You look at Spencer and notice a young woman standing next to him.

“Darling, I just wanted to meet--Spencer, who is this?” you ask and slink up to his side.

“Who is she?” Maeve asks.

“I’m his wife,” you say and show off the ring he gave you.

She gasps when she recognizes it as the one he was supposed to give her.

“Spencer?”

“No, Maeve. I’m not married to her. She’s dead.”

He grabs your skeleton arm to show her and your heart breaks at the thought of him going to another woman’s home after marrying you. You yank your arm from him and step away with a deadly look on your face.

“Hopscotch,” you growl.

Just as quickly as you came to the land of the living, you returned just the same. You appear in Elder Henry’s library where you departed from. You push Spencer away from you with hot tears running down your face.

“I can’t believe you! You lied to me! You didn’t want to visit your parents. You wanted to go to that other woman!”

“Don’t you understand? You’re the other woman.”

“No! You married me!” you cry and turn away from him.

“She’s got a point,” Elder Henry shrugs.

“I thought things were going really well,” you sniffle.

“Look, I’m sorry but this can’t work.”

“Why not?” you ask and turn to face him. “It’s my bones, isn’t it? You don’t want to see them.”

“No, it’s not that,” he sighs and runs his hands down his face. “Look, you’re an amazing woman. You’re kind and sweet and I hate what that man did to you. Under different circumstances, I’d honestly want to be with you, but we’re too different. You’re dead.”

“You should have thought of that before you asked me to marry you.”

“Why can’t you see that it was a mistake? I would never marry you.”

Silence falls in the library. If your heart could break, then they would hear it. You’ll never be someone’s bride. Always the bridesmaid. How could you expect someone as good-looking and amazing as Spencer would want you? He realizes what he said but he can’t take it back. Your shoulder sag and you sigh sadly. You turn away and walk away to be alone. Spencer opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out.

He lets you walk away.

You don’t know where you’re going just that you’re walking wherever your legs carry you. You find yourself at the park with a nice gazebo that is romantic most of the time. You take a seat under the middle of it and look at your wedding ring. He never wanted to marry you. This was a mistake. Who would want to marry you? Maybe you’re just damaged goods and too broken for anyone to love.

“Hey, are you okay? Where’s Spencer?” You look up to see Marcy walking over to you. It takes everything in you not to break down crying but you tell her the entire story. “I’m gonna beat his ass.”

“No, don’t. Maybe he’s right. Maybe we are too different. You should have seen her Marcy. She’s beautiful. Maybe he does belong with her. Little Miss Living,” you say in a sad, sarcastic tone. “With her rosy cheeks and beating heart.”

“Those girls got nothing on you. You’re so much better than them. Looks don’t matter. You’re such a kind and beautiful soul.” Her pep talk doesn’t seem to be working so she tries something else. “What does she have that you don’t? I don’t need to know what she looks like to know she doesn’t hold a candle to your beautiful smile.”

“How about a pulse?” you sigh.

“That’s overrated. Plus, she’s not wearing his ring. You are. She doesn’t compare to you.”

“She still breathes air.”

“Who cares? That shouldn’t matter when he knows the kind of person you are… how special you are.”

“I don’t want to be dead,” you whisper fearfully. “I never wanted to be dead. I wish I could be alive again. To feel the sun on my skin. To feel pain. Don’t get me wrong, I love everyone down here, but I can’t feel pain. Physical, that is. The pain I feel now… my heart hurts but it doesn’t beat, it’s breaking.”

Marcy puts a hand on your back and rubs it soothingly. She knows how long you’ve waited to find your Prince. You were a young girl in love just looking for someone to love you back. Is that too much to ask?

“What you just told me, it seems like the only redeeming feature about her is that she’s alive. You know that’s just temporary. Down here is forever. Down here is more than a lifetime.”

“I guess,” you sigh sadly.

“Y/N?” You and Marcy look up to see Spencer standing at the edge of the gazebo nervously. “Can I talk to you?”

“You’re about five seconds away from getting an ass-kicking,” Marcy growls and stands up.

“Marcy, it’s okay,” you calm her down. “I can handle this.”

“Just call if you need me.”

She walks off and Spencer takes her seat next to you.

“Listen, I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it.”

“I get it, Spencer. She has what I don’t. A beating heart.”

“That doesn’t… Look, it’s no secret you’re amazing. Even dead, you’re very beautiful. I don’t know how that other guy let you go so easily. I don’t know why bad things happen to good people. Just know that whatever our differences are, it’s not because you’re dead.”

“Do you mean that?” you ask and look up at him.

“Yes, I do.”

Spencer tucks your hair behind your ear delicately. This is the first romantic moment you two have had in weeks but it’s everything you could have wanted and more. Spencer notices someone walking in the distance and recognizes it as someone he knows.

“Excuse me.”

He gets up and leaves you alone on the gazebo bench. You’re not sure who this person is or what he is talking about, but Spencer leaves abruptly with an upset look on his face.

“Spencer?” you ask but he doesn’t look at you.

You get up to follow him but decide against it. He might need some time to himself, so you go searching for someone who might be able to help you. Marcy is in the bar where you first woke Spencer up, and she is playing a game of darts. When she sees you, she drops the darts and heads over to you.

“Is everything alright?”

“I don’t know.” You pull her off to the side so you can talk to her privately, an alley between the bar and the doctor’s office. “He apologized for what he said. We were having a moment but he saw someone he knew and went to talk to him. He walked off without another word. Are all men like this?”

“Sweetheart, be thankful you never had to deal with those kind of men. None of them are very bright.”

“Y/N, we need to talk.” You look to the right to see Elder Henry walking over with a book in his hand. “I’m afraid it can’t wait.”

“What’s going on?”

“There is a complication with your marriage. The vows are binding only until death do you part.”

“What are you saying?” you gasp fearfully.

“Death has already parted you.”

“No! If he finds out he’s gonna leave. There must be something you can do.”

Elder Henry puts the book on a trash can lid and flips a few pages.

“There is one way. It requires the greatest sacrifice. Spencer would have to give up the life he had forever. He would need to repeat his vows in the land of the living and drink from the wine of ages.”

“Poison!” you gasp.

“This would stop his heart forever. Only then would he be free to give it to you.”

Spencer is around the corner listening to the entire conversation. His eyes are wide in fear of what you’re going to say. He looks around the corner and sees you fall to your knees in sorrow.

“I could never ask him. What kind of person would I be if I took that away from him?”

Spencer really likes Maeve and could see a future with her, but he’s also torn with choosing you. All you wanted was for someone to love you unconditionally, and you will have that if he chooses you. He’s been spending all his time with you.

“You don’t have to,” Spencer says, making himself known. “I’ll do it.”

“My boy, if you choose this path, you may never return to the world above. Do you understand?”

Spencer holds his hand out for you and pulls you to your feet.

“I do.”

Looks like a wedding is happening. Everyone in the Underworld is excited that their own Corpse Bride is getting the moment she finally deserves. Spencer is kind of excited to be living down here after seeing so many people bond over being dead. Elder Henry works hard to create a spell that will transfer everyone down below to the world above. This will be the wedding of the century for both the living and the dead.

Because you’re going to the world above, you have to abide by their rules. The living weren't thrilled to have the dead roam the streets. In fact, they were mostly horrified to see skeletons walk down the street. Still, you and the others make your way down to the church for the ceremony. The pastor wasn’t too happy to have the dead knocking at his door, but you won’t allow him to spoil this evening.

Everyone settles into the pew as you and Spencer sand at the altar. Elder Henry walks behind the table and lays the book down with the bottle of poison. There is an empty cup next to Spencer while you have the whole bottle. Spencer has to admit that seeing your happy smile is bringing him joy.

This is it. This is what you’ve been waiting for since you were murdered.

“Dearly beloved and departed,” Elder Henry begins, “we are gathered here today to join this man and this corpse in marriage. Living first.”

Spencer turns to you and raises his right hand.

“With this hand, I will lift your sorrows.” He grabs the empty cup and raises it. “Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine.”

“Now you,” Elder Henry says to you.

“With this hand, I will lift your sorrows.” You grab the bottle of poison to pour into his cup. “Your cup will never empty.” You pour the poison into his cup. “For I will be--” As you’re pouring, you notice someone standing next to a pillar behind Spencer. You do a double-take to confirm it’s Maeve. She’s dressed in a wedding dress. She must have gotten married to someone else and didn’t want that, so she came here in hopes of seeing Spencer. “I will be…”

“Go on, my dear,” Elder Henry says.

You take a deep breath.

“Your cup will never empty… for I will be…”

“I will be your wine,” Spencer finishes for you.

He raises the cup of poison to his lips to drink, but you can’t let him do this. You quickly put your hand over the top so he doesn’t drink a drop.

“She’s having second thoughts,” someone whispers in the crowd.

“I can’t,” you say and look at Maeve again.

“What’s wrong?”

He goes to look at what you’re looking at but you put a hand on his cheek to stop him. Your heart hurts again but not for you. It’s for them. You had your chance. Now you’re taking someone else’s chance.

“This is wrong. I was a bride. My dreams were taken from me. Now I’ve stolen them from someone else.” Two tears roll down your cheeks. “I love you, Spencer, but you are not mine.”

You hold your hand out to Maeve who walks into the light. Spencer turns and gasps when he sees her. Everyone in the crowd gasps as she joins you on the altar. You grab her hand and place it in Spencer’s before letting go of him.

“Oh, how touching,” someone says from the church doors. Everyone turns their head to see who it is, and when you catch a glimpse, your face goes ghostly white. You take a step back in shock and put a hand on the table to prevent yourself from falling. “I always cry at weddings. Our young lovers together at last. Surely now, they can live happily ever after.” The man walks down the aisle closer to the altar. “But you forget,” he grabs Maeve’s arm and pulls her into him, “she’s still my wife! I will not leave here empty-handed!”

“You,” you gulp.

The man looks at you and his eyes widen.

“Y/N? No, I left you.”

“For dead,” you say quietly.

Everyone in the church gasps loudly at the realization that the man who stands before you is your murderer. He backs away with Maeve in his arms just as everyone stands in anger for what he did to you. There is a corpse with a sword hanging out of his body that Justin grabs. He places the sharp end over Maeve’s throat with a glare.

“Take your hands off her,” Spencer glares and walks toward them.

“Do I have to kill you, too?”

Justin shoves Maeve away and goes to swipe at Spencer but he jumps out of the way. Spencer is not equipped for hand-to-hand combat so he’s easily outdone by Justin, but you’re not going to let Justin take away something else from you. Spencer trips and falls, making him an easy target. Justin raises the sword to bring it down on him but you quickly step in the way so that the sword ends up in you.

Everyone gasps in shock and backs away but the sword does nothing to you. You grip the handle of the sword and take it out of you before pointing it at Justin.

“Touche, my dear,” Justin says.

“Get out,” you give him a deadly glare.

“Oh, I’m leaving,” he chuckles darkly and walks around you to the table with the cup of poison. Although, he doesn't know it’s poison. He grabs it and holds it in the air. “First, a toast to Y/N! Always the bridesmaid, never the bride. Tell me, my dear, can a heart still break once it’s stopped beating?”

You want to cry. You want to scream and yell and kick but you’re not back home. All your friends get up to defend your honor but Elder Henry holds them back.

“We are in the land of the living. We have to abide by their rules.”

Justin raises the cup and drinks the entire glass. He walks away with his head held high but before he can get to the door, he chokes on nothing. He grabs his heart and staggers, and Elder Henry steps aside knowing that Justin is no longer part of the living.

“Not anymore,” Marcy smirks.

“She’s right. He’s all yours.”

All of your friends gather around the man who killed you to give him a taste of his own medicine. You turn to Spencer and Maeve who are overwhelmed by what happened.

“Spencer, I never thought I’d see you again,” Maeve smiles up at him.

You smile tearfully at the happy couple and turn to leave. You reach the doors to the church when Spencer stops you.

“Wait, I made a promise.”

“You kept your promise. You set me free.” You take off your wedding ring and place it in his open hand. “Now I can do the same for you.”

You turn and walk down the steps of the church only looking back once at Spencer. A white light encases your body as your soul is released to be whatever it wants to be. After years of being in pain, you’re finally able to take a deep breath in without it hurting.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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denaliwrites · 2 years ago

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When the Crypt Doors Creak

Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader

Summary: The Doctor takes you to the most popular haunted house attraction on Earth after finding out your favorite holiday is Halloween. Turns out he might have ulterior motives for the trip, though.

Soundtrack: Grim Grinning Ghosts by Creature Feature

Requests: Open!

Warnings: Jumpscares, Canon-Typical Peril.

A skeleton dropped from the ceiling, its cheap plastic teeth chittering mockingly when you let out a bleat of terror. The Doctor shot you an amused look, apparently unfazed.

"Does nothing frighten you?" you asked, stepping around the skeleton with a miffed whine.

"Oh, plenty frightens me," he sighed, sidestepping a haphazardly placed dummy meant to look like a bloody corpse.

"Like what?" You startled at the sound of a mournful howl echoing around you. Eyes shot to the Doctor for comfort, but instead found him giving you a shit-eating grin.

"Nothing that can be found in a haunted house on Earth in the year 2375," he assured you.

The two of you rounded a corner. Immediately you yelped, confronted by a giant robot with round, hollow black eyes. Somehow, that seemed even creepier than glowing electric eyes.

The Doctor stopped beside you, staring up at the robot with a perplexed expression. "I stand corrected," he said after a moment. "So that's what the TARDIS scanners were picking up."

"What, this thing frightens you?" you asked in disbelief, though internally you admitted that it frightened you too... You were unsure why. You were so busy thinking about it that you missed that he hadn't actually brought you here for a fun outing.

The Doctor pulled out his sonic and gave the robot a quick scan. "Well, at least it's dormant," he said to himself as he read the scan. "But this is wrong. You shouldn't be here..."

"What is it?" you asked, blinking up at the thing.

"Nothing you need to worry about right this second," he tried to reassure you, his hands guiding you by the waist away from the robot.

You continued through the haunted house, but you could tell from that moment that the Doctor's mind was elsewhere. You tried to catch his attention a couple times, but he was fully engrossed in his thoughts. And, occasionally, his sonic scans.

Around another bend, you came across a different robot. This one was much cuter upon first glance, but something about it drove you to stand far away. The Doctor, however, approached without hesitation and did another scan.

"This is all wrong," he sighed, turning to look around the room. It was dark, and at least you were having trouble making anything out other than the dummy ahead of you. "Where are they getting these things?"

You edged the room, trying to keep as far from the thing as you could. "Doctor, I want to leave," you moaned, hands desperately searching the dark wall behind you for an exit.

He didn't seem to hear you, continuing to scan and talk to himself. The last thing you saw before accidentally falling through an exit door was the doctor scratching the back of his head, and the last thing you heard was him saying, "You shouldn't be here."

You weren't sure how long you fell, or when you landed. You'd gone unconscious at some point. All you knew was just that you woke up in some sort of cell.

"Hello?" you called out, rattling the bars in various locations in the hope that they might give. You were disappointed to find that they were pretty solidly in place.

"Hello?" you tried again.

This time, you were answered by footsteps that echoed across the walls as they got closer. "Ah, you're awake," a displaced voice said, and you got the distinct impression that whoever had spoken was not a particularly nice individual.

Though, maybe the whole "being locked in a cell" thing should've given that away.

"I was wondering when the hypnosis would wear off." With that, the source of the voice stepped into view. You were surprised to see that it was just an ordinary guy -- well, a rich guy, going by the fancy suit he wore and the way he was immaculately groomed, but. Otherwise, perfectly ordinary.

"Hypnosis?" you asked, trying to think back to when that could've possibly happened.

"Yeah. Nothing particularly strong or damaging. Needed to get you from Point A to Point B and you were... well. Uncooperative."

It was then you noticed a fresh cut on his lip. Nice.

"Well, I'd say sorry," you started, your voice mocking, "but I'm pretty sure kidnapping is a little higher on the list than punching the guy trying to kidnap you, as far as grievances go."

"Mm," was all he offered by way of response, starting to pace.

"What am I doing here, anyway?"

"Oh, yes, let me just tell you my whole grand plan so that you can formulate some clever way to stop it."

Ouch. Okay. He had you there.

"Don't know what kind of idiots you've been dealing with, but I'm not falling for that bullshit."

"Oh, I wouldn't call it bullshit," the Doctor's voice came suddenly from somewhere to your left. You turned, but he was nowhere to be seen. "Curious, this one," he continued, referring to you. "Asks all sorts of great questions."

"You call that a great question?"

"Well, give it a minute. The hypnosis is probably still wearing off."

"Uh, Doctor, where are you?" you asked, as if you hadn't just been insulted by one man and complimented by another.

"See, that's a good question. Where am I?"

"You're the one that's supposed to answer that, Doctor," you sighed, eyes still scanning around trying to find him.

"See, the thing is," the Doctor started, and you heard the sound of a switch flipping. "That Cyberman, and that Dalek. They're just dormant. Not dead."

You had no idea where this was going, but by the look on the face of your captor, you knew that he knew exactly where the Doctor was and what he was doing.

"And, well. All dormant things wake up eventually, don't they? Hmm, I wonder what this button does."

The sound of an alarm filled the room, and a robotic voice began instructing patrons to evacuate the building.

"Well, at least you had the decency to give them a chance to get out. Couldn't afford the lawsuits?" the Doctor asked, something in his voice rather cruel.

You looked to your captor, almost laughing at the panic on his face.

"Now, you managed to capture a Dalek and a Cyberman and who knows what else is in the parts of that maze we didn't see. What do you think they'll do, now that I've turned off the machine keeping them under? I wonder..."

The man made to leave, but the Doctor stopped him with a tut. "Let my friend go, Jeremy."

Jeremy (apparently) hesitated, then threw the cell key to you and ran for the exit.

"Oh, good enough, I suppose," the Doctor sighed.

You let yourself out of the cell and turned towards the exit "Jeremy" had run through.

"Ah-ah," the Doctor chided gently. "Not that way."

"Why not?" you asked the air around you, looking around for any other way out. There was none.

"That's where all the monsters are gonna be."

Oh, right.

"Then where am I supposed to go?"

You heard him make that weird sound that came from the back of his throat. "Well. The TARDIS, obviously."

"The TARDIS isn't here, Doctor."

"Sure she is. Look in the loo."

You blinked stupidly for a moment, then turned and, indeed, found a restroom sign. Stepping through the door, you were met with the beautiful deep blue wood of the Doctor's ship.

"Have you been in here the whole time?" you asked the open air.

"Come in and find out, won't you?"

You stepped inside to see the Doctor smiling at you from the console. You ran to him and threw your arms around him. He hugged you back, holding on tight as he buried his face in your hair.

"I'm glad you're okay," he murmured, placing a kiss to your temple.

You pulled away from him, softly clearing your throat. "Shouldn't we help Jeremy? Or, at least, get rid of all those 'monsters.'"

"There's no helping Jeremy now," the Doctor sighed. "And all those monsters will self-destruct or go live out the rest of their lives in solitude once they realize they're all alone."

"That's... sad. Shouldn't we take them back to where they belong?"

The Doctor looked contemplative and sad for a moment. "No."

You wanted to press him on that, but something told you not to. Something about the haunted expression on his face.

"... Can we go to a normal haunted house?" you asked instead. "One in my time."

"You wanna do that again?" he asked with a stunned laugh. "You were terrified the whole time!"

"Doctor, that's the point!"

#tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor x you #doctor who x reader #the doctor x reader #the doctor x you #reader insert #doctor who fic #doctor who fanfiction #doctor who #the doctor #david tennant #halloween fic #halloween #holiday special #holiday special fic

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unpredictable-probabilities · 10 months ago

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Azul Ashengrotto of Royal Sword Academy || Chapter 26: Drifting Currents

Summary:

After visiting Savanaclaw's booth, Jamil and Azul head to Pomefiore's station in the Mirror Chamber and receive an ominous revelation.

Word Count: 6,046

Notes (more at the end):

For Day 3 of AshenViper Week 2024!

Prompt: Angst/Comfort

"Uh-uh-uh!" They hear a Savanaclaw member tut some kids nearby as they approach the ship. "This ain't gold you can touch and steal! I'll be sure to keep an eye on ya, and besides, these all lose their worth once ya take them out of our domain!"

The kids scamper after being scolded by the student.

Jamil and Azul walk inside the ship, where more treasure chests and plastic skeletons wearing pirate outfits decorated the decks.

"It's a little concerning that I can find inaccuracies in how these skeletons are depicted," Azul says with a hint of amusement. "Skeletons in real shipwrecks are discolored in some ways, and some even have barnacles growing on them. Those clothes definitely would look a lot more worn down and tattered. And if time has passed long enough for the corpses to become skeletons, the ship itself should not look this intact. You've seen an actual shipwreck just a few days ago; that had more cracks and algae everywhere."

"Oof, doesn't pass the Azul standard of shipwreck, I see," Jamil playfully whistles, lightly knocking onto the wood. "Still, not bad for something they apparently made out of scratch without any kind of magic. Any more detail than this and they'd actually have to go to the sea and pull corpses and ships outta the water."

"Oh, of course, it's quite impressive," Azul says sincerely. "Especially since it's all done without magic. I can see why Leona seems to be highly content with the results. Why did they decide to go for a pirate theme?"

"From what I remember, it was that guy's idea," he points to a tall and brawny fellow with silvery-gray wolf-like features, talking to other Savanaclaw members like a leader would. "He's one of this year's freshmen, which is impressive considering how high he seems to be in the pecking order. We can ask him. I think he's the one with the stamp, anyway."

They approach Jack Howl after he finishes giving instructions to his dormmates.

The freshman’s ears perk up at the sound of their footsteps and he turns to look at them.

"Hello," Azul greets. "The ship looks impressive."

Jack nods once. "Thank you. It was everyone's hard work that made this all possible." He looks at Jamil, then at Azul's RSA uniform and coat draped over his arm. "...Are you Azul Ashengrotto?"

"Yes, I'm guessing you know me from the quiz bee?" Azul says in good-natured amusement.

"Ah, no, I didn't get to watch that because I was doing some practice drills for Spelldrive." Jack glances at Jamil for a moment before returning his gaze to Azul. "I just heard that Jamil has a… friend, from RSA." He clears his throat, evidently feeling awkward. "Anyway, how's Scarabia's booth?" he asks Jamil. "I haven't had the chance to visit it yet."

"Crowded. I advise you not to visit there for now until the amount of visitors dwindle tonight," Jamil responds. In the meantime, it looks like someone's been blabbing about him and Azul... Ruggie, perhaps. There's a chance it came from rumors, but Jack doesn't strike him as a fellow who dabbles in gossip. "I see you guys are getting a lot of attention, too. You were the one who came up with the pirate theme, right? Azul here was asking why you chose it.”

Jack brightens at the question. "I read this pirate book back in elementary and I really liked the story, especially the lead character, Captain Mustache. I played pirate a lot as a kid, and I'm very familiar with their outfits and what their ships looked like. Prefect Leona said that it's perfect for our dorm to dress up as swashbucklers freely sailing the seas," he says proudly. "So that's what we decided on. We're dressed up as the ghosts of pirates who can't let go of their treasures, that's why the main prop aside from the ship are the many treasure chests scattered around."

As Jamil watches him ramble, he begins to understand what the other students mean when they say that Jack is adorable despite what first impressions might imply. He’s like a little puppy.

"It's certainly unique,” Azul says in interest. Ghost pirates aren't normally the go-to costume for people dressing up for Halloween, and those gold coins look incredibly realistic.”

"Ruggie helped us make them, he's really good at it," Jack explains. Then he sees Azul's booklet. "Oh, should I stamp that for you?" he holds up the stamp.

"Ah, yes, thank you," Azul hands it over.

"By the way, have you seen Malleus Draconia yet?" Jack asks as he returns the booklet after stamping it. "He was here earlier, looking for you. He said he thought you'd go here because of the coins. Not sure if I understood him correctly, though. He's a little intimidating, especially appearing out of nowhere like that…" he scratches the back of his neck.

"We just saw him outside, yes," Azul replies.

"Are you guys friends with Malleus now?" Jack furrows his eyebrows at Jamil.

"Nah. He’s friends with Malleus now," Jamil corrects him. "This guy's a walking magnet. Even Ruggie considers him a friend and we both know how that guy normally feels about friendships."

"Really? Whoa." Jack glances at Azul with wide eyes. "You must really be something to earn even Ruggie's respect. It's nice to meet you, sir. I hope you're enjoying the visit so far."

Azul blinks, then chuckles modestly. "No need to call me sir, I'm just in the same year as Jamil. It's nice to meet you as well. And yes, NRC is a wonderful place to visit especially during Halloween. I wouldn't be surprised if the visitors would only increase in number as Halloween draws closer." He turns to Jamil. "And why do you keep referring to me as a magnet?" he raises an eyebrow. "Malleus and I just happened to both be interested in relatively mundane things, and Ruggie is friends with you as well, isn't he?"

"You're a magnet because you got the Leeches, Rielle, the RSA students, my dorm members, Ruggie, that creep Hansel, Idia and Ortho and now Malleus expressing an interest in getting to know you better," Jamil points out to his boyfriend. "Face it, Azul. You're hot and smart and sweet. Who would be able to resist courting you?"

Azul's cheeks turn pink and his eyes widen slightly. "Th—That's— The entire RSA student body? Where did you even get that from? And Ortho and Idia are interested in continuing their booth, we just happened to be there. And how would Hansel even think I'm sweet? I was shelving knick knacks!" his voice has raised a little in volume because of how flustered he is.

"Um," Jack shifts on his feet. "I'm gonna go see if anyone else needs stamps. Excuse me," he scurries off.

Jamil hums in amusement, surprised but endeared to Azul's flustered side. "Oh, so you can at least admit you're smart and hot?"

Azul smiles playfully as he seems to be slowly recovering. "Well, I did defeat you in the quiz bee. And I don't seem to remember you courting me," he frowns, but his eyes are teasing.

Jamil chuckles. "My bad. We're doing a lot of things out of order, but I wouldn't mind courting you now and taking you out on a date, if that's what you want."

“That sounds lovely,” Azul smiles. “ We can wait until after Halloween, though. I wouldn’t want to take you away from your duties here.”

"My only duty right now is to show you around and let you have a good time." Jamil smoothly replies, before gesturing to his pamphlet. "You only have one location left to stamp: The Mirror Chamber, where Pomefiore's vampires await."

“Oh right, the famous Dark Mirror of NRC. Are you gonna introduce me?” Azul says playfully, referencing what Jamil had said at the ball about showing Azul to the Dark Mirror.

"And potentially get you sorted into NRC so that you don't have to ask permission from Headmage Ambrose to stay here? Yeah,” Jamil jokes.

He takes Azul out of the stadium and up into the main building of the campus. The majority of the visitors are taking their time seeing the sights around the outdoors, so there's not much of a crowd to push through around here.

As they make their way up the vast amount of corridors and paintings, they find a man with a blonde bob happily dragging a befuddled Trey around.

"I don't know about this, Rook… I really think it doesn't hurt to just skip it this year—"

"Non non !" the strange lad wags a finger at him. "Curiosité waits for nobody! Who knows what great surprises might greet us today! Hm?" He abruptly pauses, noticing Jamil and Azul.

Trey glances over and, relieved for a change of subject, waves them over. "Ah, hey again, you two. Heading to the Chamber now, I presume?"

“Yes, hello again,” Azul smiles, then looks at Rook. “Hello, I’m—”

“Azul Ashengrotto!” Rook says with delight. “L’amour de la vipère !”

Azul’s face reddens a bit at that remark, and he chuckles.

Jamil, knowing enough of the language to understand the phrase as well, awkwardly clears his throat.

“Let me just say that it is mon plaisir to have finally met you!” Rook shakes Azul’s hand enthusiastically. “I am Rook Hunt, Vice Prefect to the beautiful Vil Schoenheit,” he lets go of Azul’s hand and bows dramatically.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too,” Azul smiles. “Where are you two headed?”

"To the lab, of course!" Rook replies, twirling in merriment. "I felt the siren's call of discovery beckoning me into its embrace! And since Le Chevalier des Roses here was available, I decided to let him join me on this adventure!"

Trey casts a glance at Jamil as if asking him for help.

"In the middle of Halloween?" Jamil asks Rook. "All club activities are practically suspended for Halloween Week."

"All NECESSARY club activities!" Rook emphasizes. "But this is no mandatory pursuit! This is an endeavor of PASSION! Of HEART!"

Azul blinks in surprise at the increasing volume of Rook’s voice. “The lab? Would you be conducting an experiment?”

"Oui ! C'est exact ! But the nature of the experiment is still unknown to me. I wish to discover it while we are there!"

"It's not exactly my ideal way of spending a break, though…" Trey mutters.

"Oh, um… Hello? Are you all students here?" a voice asks behind them, and they turn to see a regular-looking man—a visitor—confusedly holding a pamphlet in his hands. "Can you help me? I'm trying to look for the Mirror Chamber and um… I think I'm a little lost."

“We are just on our way over there, sir, you could come with us,” Azul smiles politely, then turns to Rook. “Perhaps you and Trey could join us as well? Maybe you can find inspiration for your experiment while we visit your booth.”

"Sounds like a great idea!" Trey immediately hops in, nodding.

"You make an excellent point!" Rook heartily agrees, easily one of the brightest NRC guys Azul must have ever laid eyes on. "Even though I was just there mere minutes ago, imagine all the new sights and sensations I must've missed while I was gone! Well then, let us tally forth! To the Mirror Chamber!"

The visitor seems to shrink at the presence of Rook’s strong personality, and he quietly follows Trey and Rook while Jamil lags a little behind.

“I’m surprised that NRC opened the Mirror Chamber to the public,” Azul tells Jamil as their little group walks along. “Do visitors get to speak to the Dark Mirror?”

"Oh, they can certainly try," Jamil chuckles. "Can't guarantee that the Mirror would talk back. It rarely even talks to us and the Headmage if it's not the entrance ceremony. And visitors don't usually have the power to do anything against it. Additionally, Pomefiore's keeping an eye on it the entire time it's open to the public, so it's in safe hands. Do you guys have a designated magical artifact of your own?"

“The Greatsword of Ambrose the First,” Azul replies with pride in his voice. “Legends say that the sword had been stuck halfway through a boulder for centuries. It was placed there by a powerful mage who had foreseen a great battle, one that could only be won by someone worthy enough to pull the sword from the stone. According to legend, an ancestor of Headmage Ambrose had easily pulled the sword free at a time of war, and he led the battle that saved their kingdom once and for all,” he speaks in a storyteller’s voice and ends it with a smile on his face.

“Headmage would never confirm nor deny the story to us, though,” Azul continues. “We don’t even know if he knows the truth of it at all. He would just smile and say he’s flattered that we can believe he’s descended from such a worthy warrior.”

"Humble as ever, I see." Jamil imagines a man resembling the current Ambrose wielding a legendary sword in a battlefield and finds it hard to believe. The RSA Headmage looks so gentle, it's hard to picture his ancestors ever engaging in combat.

But he’s also aware that those who look the most non-threatening often can be.

"What other cool rumors or legends do you guys have for your Headmage and his lineage?" Jamil asks Azul.

“Ah, there are a lot of legends about the Ambrose lineage,” Azul replies, in the tone of someone very familiar with such stories. “One legend says that an Ambrose had been the advisor of a noble king, and had helped the royal family through hardships both magical and common. Another tells the story of a spoiled crown prince who fell in love with a young Ambrose who was a commoner. At the time, magic was seen as evil, and anyone caught practicing it would be executed immediately, but the crown prince defended the mage even to his own father, and after countless times of them saving each other’s lives, the prince became king and married his love, and declared that magic isn’t a force of evil at all, but merely a tool that can be used with good and bad intentions. That second one is a favorite among RSA students,” Azul smiles. “It’s talked about at campfires and sleepovers, and some students even base their research papers on that legend in our literature subject.”

"Well... that's rather sweet," Jamil sincerely compliments. "I can see why it would be so popular in RSA. To think that your Headmage had such a rich history… And it looks like the current Ambrose is taking up the mantle of mentor and advisor again, but to young people now instead of kings. I hope this isn't too forward, but does he currently have a family of his own? I wonder if there's an Ambrose the 64th somewhere out there."

“I’m not sure, actually,” Azul says. “Headmage rarely talks about his personal life, and I don’t know if he ever got married or had children. Does your Headmage have any cool stories about his lineage?” he asks curiously.

Jamil frowns in deep thought, contemplating long and hard. "Huh. Honestly, I know nothing about him. I don't think you'll find many here who do. Our best bet might be the teachers or maybe Sam, but with Crowley being some kind of fey, he's most likely way older than they are. The ghosts might know something, though. They've probably been around for as long as him. But other than that... He's a mystery and we've never really thought about it. Too busy focusing on his administration's incompetencies and joking about how he ever became qualified as a Headmage when we should've been asking… is he actually qualified to be a Headmage?"

Azul chuckles. “Ah, I know even less about him so I’ll leave that question for you to answer. Oh, by the way, after we visit Pomefiore’s booth, I should let Rielle know of my plan to stay the night here again, we’ll both need to speak to Headmage Ambrose.”

"Hah, I can't imagine Rielle would want to go back to RSA anytime soon so I feel that you'll have another backer on your side for sure."

They eventually arrive at the Mirror Chamber, a grand and vast room with dark and gilded embellishments leading up to an elegant chandelier overhead, floating above the Mirror and a fountain. Floating signs of NO PHOTOGRAPHY are posted here and there and visitors are walking around and enjoying the space much more quietly than all the other locations they've visited.

"Welcome to the Mirror Chamber, the home of the fearsome rulers of the night: Vampires!" Rook loudly presents to the visitor and Azul. "In addition, this is where the most important ceremonies for Night Raven College take place, such as the entrance ceremony! This is where mere hatchlings have taken their first steps in a brave and brand new frontier of the mystic arts! This is where decades of…"

As Rook continues to ramble on, Jamil quietly leaves the conversation with Azul.

"So? What do you think?" he asks him. "As fancy as NRC can get, this place feels even more so. And here's a secret—it's also the least decorated. The only thing they added here are those No Photography signs."

“It is rather fancy,” Azul says, looking around at the chandelier and torches that hung on the walls but emitted no smoke. “Why did Pomefiore decide to set up here? Though it does look like the perfect vampire abode. It reminds me of those modern vampires in films that live in manors and palaces and drink blood from wineglasses.”

"B-Because…!" one of the Pomefiore students nearby speaks, dressed in the vampiric flowing black cape and suit of his dorm. Despite his attire, he looks far from fearsome, with big blue eyes, a baby face, and soft lavender curls framing his cheeks. He hesitates, looking like he spoke up because he happened to know the answer but wasn't actually prepared to be acknowledged. Then he continues.

"Prefect Vil says that despite the power and influence and wealth a vampire boasts, one of its true weaknesses is its inability to see its reflection, which is um… a very bad thing for us in Pomefiore, apparently. So the idea behind choosing this is that, not only does this venue match our 'elegant allure', but it paints a picture of us vampires surrounding an object of desire we can never really obtain…" He shuffles awkwardly. "Um… Yeah. Hope that made sense somehow. Vil explained it better, hah…" he smiles sheepishly.

“It makes perfect sense, thank you,” Azul says with an encouraging smile. “It’s quite poetic, actually. Nothing less from Vil Schoenheit.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool, I guess,” the lavender-haired boy says. “Wait, yer– Ah, you’re from RSA, right? Looks like it’s true…” he mumbles, looking from Azul to Jamil. Then he clears his throat. “Anyway, welcome to our booth. If you have more questions, feel free to ask any of us in costume. And if you’re waiting to meet Vil, he will be here in a few moments,” he says, sounding like he memorized those lines.

Boy, it looks like gossip about him and Azul being together really travels fast…

"How are things here, er… Epel, right?” Jamil decides to say before the Pomefiore student thinks to ask about any rumors about them. “Did the Dark Mirror finally crack a line or even show up at any point?"

"Um… no, I don't think so. At least... not while I was here,” Epel mutters, glancing at the artifact floating silently in the middle of the area. "The loudest thing we had all day was Rook bursting in just now. Are you guys gonna wait for Vil? A lot of these guests are."

Jamil has started glancing around. "We could be, but I'm also looking for… Aha." He grins when he spots Hansel in the distance. "Look at him diligently doing his job. Wanna see if he gets all tongue-tied around you, Azul?" he asks with a smirk.

Azul chuckles. "Why not? Let's see if your spell still has its effect. Excuse us,” he says to Epel.

They approach Hansel just as he finishes talking to a small group of visitors.

"Hello again," Azul says after the visitors have walked away to roam around.

"Azul," Hansel flashes a smile. "You're finally here."

Azul glances at Jamil with a subtle look of curiosity.

Jamil squints at him, cautious and tense now that he sees that Hansel doesn't look affected by his hypnosis. But he also doesn't seem to remember what Jamil did to him at all.

He crosses his arms, unhappy that his presence hasn't been acknowledged even once despite standing right next to Azul. He gestures for Azul to respond since Hansel only addressed him.

"Your booth seems to be doing well," Azul says.

"Of course," Hansel says smugly. "Pomefiore provides only the best."

"Did you help in conceptualizing your theme?" Azul asks, absently shifting the coat draped on his arm so he can roll up his shirt sleeves again that have ridden down from all their walking around, folding the cuffs just below his elbow.

Jamil doesn't miss how Hansel's gaze travels to Azul's flexing arms and over his torso.

"I—" Hansel's voice cuts off, and a look of confusion appears on his face. He opens his mouth again but only strained sounds come out. His eyes widen in panic and he runs out of the Mirror Chamber.

Azul stares after him with raised eyebrows. "Looks like it worked after all," he says to Jamil. "Why didn't it seem to work at first?" he furrows his eyebrows, as if trying to remember what Jamil said when he had cast the spell.

Jamil feels a smug sense of superiority and relief wash over him as Hansel runs off. He glances down at Azul's arms and makes a thoughtful hum. "Who would've thought that he doesn't think dirty all the time? That was a pleasant surprise to learn about." And so he confidently extends his own arm out for Azul to take. "Well then, with that little distraction out of the way, shall we go introduce you to the Mirror before we look for that stampholder?"

“Of course,” Azul smiles and takes Jamil's arm. "How long does your Signature Spell last on an individual?" he asks curiously.

Jamil drops his voice low to a mutter so he's not easily heard by anyone else, especially with Rook in the room. "Active control stays as long as I can keep concentration over it. The duller the mind, the easier. Lingering effects like what Han has, however..." he shoots the door a wry grin. "...is indefinite, since it's a more passive effect. I'd imagine it's going to last for a few days to a few weeks at most, depending on how determined he is to break through it."

"The condition is he'd get tongue-tied whenever he'd think inappropriate thoughts while looking at me specifically, right?" Azul recalls. "What if he doesn't see me at all during the next few days? The spell won't be activated then. Would it disappear sooner in such a case?" Azul has a curious look about him, a twinkling in his eyes, and Jamil wonders if he's always like that when being a nerd about something.

He can't deny that a part of him feels really pleased to see Azul so taken with interest over his abilities. His wondrous gaze has Jamil's heart doing giddy flips of pride.

"I'm not sure, since I've never actually tested it like that before,” he admits. "But I imagine that the spell's effect would simply remain dormant instead of fading away because he'd remember and remind himself of the moment he couldn't talk to you, and that thought and worry alone will be powerful enough to keep the effect alive. At least, that's what I think."

Azul nods thoughtfully. "I must admit, I didn't expect you to react in such a way about Hansel. Have you ever used your Signature Spell for anyone else before?" he asks as they walk back to Epel and stand in front of the still dormant Dark Mirror.

"I… have," Jamil falls a little quiet. "Mostly to get out of trouble, though. Nothing serious." He feels a part of himself wither a little at the memories of him coming close to using it against Kalim multiple times, knowing how easy the other would fold for him. "And Hansel was being forceful with his advancements. There was no way I could just stand to the side and let it happen. In fact, perhaps I should modify my hypnosis to make him tongue-tied and awkward when he thinks inappropriate thoughts about anyone ever."

His line of thinking is cut off when they hear a gasp. The lost visitor from earlier has bumped into Vil, and when he reacts in surprise, the entire crowd glances over and swarms towards them in excitement. Looking like he was expecting this, Vil smiles at the visitors' adoration and welcomes them all in kind.

Someone mentioned taking pictures, only to remember that they're not allowed to do so within the room. Vil then offers to take the meet and greet outside so that they can take pictures with him. Soon enough, like a flock of sheep, the crowd—along with Rook, Trey, and a few other Pomefiore vampires—follow the celebrity out until it's just Azul, Jamil, and Epel inside.

The Pomefiore First Year sighs. "That's gonna— erm, that's going to be a daily occurrence around here.”

“It's not all that surprising considering Vil's status. It's more impressive that he doesn't seem to mind at all. He truly is a performer and entertainer through and through," Jamil comments.

A green glow emits from behind them, and a deep voice says. "The ocean's offspring. It's about time, young one."

The three of them startle and look around for the source of the sound.

To Jamil's shock, the face of the Dark Mirror has revealed itself to gaze down at Azul.

"Whoa..." Jamil breathes out. "Azul? Is it… talking to you?"

"Your presence has been sought after for a long time," the Dark Mirror’s voice solemnly booms, face as impassive as ever. "Have you decided to switch your allegiance and fully embrace the powers of darkness?"

"What in the—?" Epel exclaims. "What's going on here? The Mirror's never spoke up like this before."

Jamil's eyes widen and he stares at Azul, recalling their conversations about Azul's strange magic. "...It looks like my jokes might not be just that, after all."

Azul is staring wide-eyed at the Dark Mirror. "You… You know who I am?" he asks, his face bathed in the green glow coming from the mirror.

"The child who can tip the scales," the Dark Mirror continues in its even tone. "The current that moves back and forth. You stand in this abode of darkness draped in light."

For the first time since Jamil has known it, the face in the mirror seems to show the slightest hint of expression, a subtle narrowing of its eyes as it gauges Azul.

"You remain in the middle of the scales. What do you presume to achieve? Do you hope to continue on this path you insist on carving with your light forged in darkness?"

Jamil sees the fearful confusion on Azul's face, and he hurries over and pulls him away from the mirror's view.

"Hmph. Until you are ready to face me again, child." The Dark Mirror’s face vanishes into a burst of green flames, and the polished glass is now dark and quiet as if it had not awoken in centuries.

Azul is trembling against Jamil, his arms wrapped tightly around Jamil's shoulders. His coat had fallen to the floor.

"It's okay, you're okay," Jamil tells him, hugging him close. "We can talk about what happened, or forget it ever happened at all, okay?" He gives a look to Epel, who tenses up and mimics zipping up his lips.

Jamil can hear Azul trying to regulate his breathing, and he can't seem to form words at the moment.

"Come on, let's get out of here," Jamil whispers, rubbing Azul's back as soothingly as he can before he picks up Azul's coat and leads him back out into the corridors.

At first, there's a cacophony of noise since this is where Vil and the visitors have gathered, with Rook being pleasant to everyone and helping with crowd control so Vil doesn't get mobbed.

Jamil sticks to the sides and leads Azul up to an empty floor and a vacant classroom, where he lets Azul sit at a desk by the door.

"Stay here, all right? I'm gonna go and get you some water."

And so he did, all the while fixating on the Dark Mirror and its words.

To think that it recognized Azul of all people… calling him all sorts of things and treating him like it would an NRC student?

Does Azul truly belong here more than any of them expected he would? But then what about his time at RSA? The Dark Mirror scouts its students. Why would it have been waiting for Azul to visit it first?

He returns to the classroom, trying to hide the troubled look on his face as he hands Azul a bottle of water.

"Here. Drink up." Jamil sits next to him.

Azul wordlessly takes the bottle and opens it, taking careful sips. Gradually his posture begins to relax, though there are still beads of sweat on his forehead.

He looks at Jamil and tries for a smile. "I'm guessing you don't know what that's all about either?"

Jamil shakes his head, sticking close to him as if something bad could just come barging in at any moment. "Not at all. I can't help but keep thinking about your Cosmos Magic, though..."

Azul looks at his hands on the desk, holding the water bottle. They still have a slight tremor to them, and Azul grips the bottle tighter, as if willing his hands to stay still.

"I can understand if the Mirror simply means that I can study in either school," Azul says slowly, still looking at his hands. "But… 'the child who can tip the scales'?" he absently shakes his head.

"That's assuming that the Mirror knew what it was talking about," Jamil tries, knowing how fruitless it would be trying to downplay it. "It doesn't have to mean anything, does it? What scales?"

For a moment, a blanket of silence fell upon them as contemplation took over the initial bewilderment.

"...Azul, when you received RSA's letter, are you certain that that was the only letter of acceptance you got? Maybe NRC actually tried to recruit you at some point."

Azul furrows his eyebrows. "Not that I'm aware of. As far as I know, I only received an invitation from RSA. What does NRC's invitation look like?"

Jamil takes a moment before he conjures up a floating and faint image of a dark envelope with golden lining, clasped with the stamp of a raven-shaped symbol.

"Like this. But anyway, if it's not a matter of both schools fighting over you…” he lets the illusion vanish. "Then maybe this is about your magic. Has your cosmic spell always been both dark and light?"

"Well…" Azul looks down and goes silent for a few seconds before speaking again. "It was… dark when it first manifested. And then light slowly got incorporated in it as I got older. I was a little surprised but I knew that Rielle had light cosmic spell, and I thought it was just normal for young merfolk like us, for our magic to develop into light. But mine never turned entirely light. Before I graduated middle school, it's already the light and dark combination that it is now."

Azul takes out his Magic Pen and quietly conjures a ball of light and dark cosmic magic, just like the one he cast at the Autumn Dance. It hovers a few inches above the desk, like an ever-shifting thundercloud.

Azul looks at it contemplatively before extinguishing it again. "I was frightened, Jamil," he says quietly. "The Dark Mirror… I know it can sense the color and shape of one's soul but… I felt like a butterfly pinned to a board for examination. The Dark Mirror demanded answers but I didn't understand the questions…" his voice fades into a whisper, his eyes still holding a semblance of the fear and confusion that Jamil had seen.

In response, one of Jamil's hands wraps around Azul's to give it a comforting squeeze. "I don't understand it, either…" And it frustrates him. "Can you remember when your dark magic became lighter?"

Azul frowns as he tries to recall it. "It was about a month or two after I had become friends with Rielle. We were playing tag at the palace with the servants, and one of them had accidentally sent a prized vase flying across the room. I saw it cut through the water, and I instinctively summoned magic to cushion it so that it bounced unharmed when it hit the wall. It was the first time that my magic had some light in it, and Rielle and I were surprised. We hadn't seen anything like it before. We knew that some of our classmates had dark cosmic magic, and some had light. But we didn't know it was possible to have a combination of both."

"I didn't know it was possible, either." Jamil tries to look back at all of his history lessons to see if there's ever been a phenomenon like Azul's, but he can't remember anything like it. He gazes with concern at his partner. "We… don't have to look too deep into it if it frightens you. Having light and dark magic hasn't been a problem for you before, has it?"

Azul shakes his head. "No, it's never been a problem. It seems to work just as well as the normal dark or light magic that I see others use." He takes a breath and tries for a smile. "Anyway, no harm done. Perhaps I do have potential to be an NRC student, but it's not exactly anything to worry about. I'd like to just continue on with our day."

Jamil can only imagine how Azul must be feeling, and he pulls him close into a tight hug. "If the thought ever bothers you, just tell me and we'll do something about it, okay?" He doesn't know what he's gonna do yet but he'll make sure Azul's not gonna face it alone.

Azul hugs him back just as tightly, and Jamil can feel him slowly relaxing in his arms.

Azul sighs. "Thank you, Jamil. Where else are you planning to tour me?" his smile looks more genuine when they pull away from the embrace.

"That should be the last of the stamp loc— Ah," Jamil's expression gives way to realization. "We never got it stamped. But that would mean having to go back again and..." He frowns. He doesn't want to have to put Azul in an environment that could stress him out so soon.

"Ah…" Azul thinks about it. "I don't mind going back. Let's just stay far away from the Dark Mirror. It didn't speak until I got in front of it, and it went away when I showed that I didn't want to speak with it. I was frightened but… I don't think the Mirror meant any harm. Its job is to look at souls, after all."

It wouldn't just talk to any regular soul, but Jamil decides not to point that out for Azul's peace of mind. He's pretty sure the other's already well-aware of that fact.

"Right, follow and stay close to me, then."

Thankfully, no further incidents occur and they are able to get the stamp from Epel, who apologizes despite not having done anything wrong.

They thank Epel for the stamp and for keeping quiet about what happened, and continue on with their tour.

Notes:

I used various Merlin Lore from different media to create the Ambrose Lore in this universe, including details from the 1981 movie Excalibur and the BBC TV show Merlin.

Thank you for reading!

<- Chapter 25

Chapter 27 ->

(AshenViper Week 2024 Masterpost)

(Masterlist)

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slythepuffle · 7 months ago

Text

Walking Corpse, Part 2

It’s been a year or so since they left the hospital that night and Dexter had settled in rather nicely.

Michelle - Their mother - was as sweet as can be, helping them out as much as she could. She taught them about the life that they used to live, the things that they liked and disliked, hobbies, etc. It was... really nice, to have someone there for them. They don't think they've had someone like that before.

Dexter decided to continue the animal exterminator business that the previous man had run, though they weren't entirely sure what all the equipment in the truck was for. They would have asked their mother but... looking at some of it...

Probably best they just not touch it.

And not let her know about it.

The hell did the man before them do with this stuff?

They were surprisingly decent at the job. Mostly they just set traps and waited for something to step in them or get rid of infestations of insects. If they caught an animal, they just sent it off to the nearest shelter or pound. It wasn't too difficult.

Currently, they were sitting on the curb next to their car, taking a small lunch break after setting up some traps. They'd check on them in an hour or so, for now just eating a sandwich.

"Meow?"

Dexter paused, hearing the noise and looking around. They spotted a cat - well, more a kitten really - nearby, staring at them. It seemed a bit wary, eyes narrowed, but slowly approached. They hummed, a small smile crossing their face as they outstretched a hand to the animal.

The kitten paused, sniffing at their offered hand. It sniffed it once, then twice, then seemed to deem them as friendly. It purred as it nuzzled against their hand, causing them to chuckle as they gave it a gentle scratch.

Cats were something Dexter grew rather fond of, given how many their mother had. Though the animals were very cautious of them at first, they soon warmed up to them and greeted them with meows.

"How are you doing, little guy?" Dexter greeted, running their hand along the kitten's back with a small smile. The creature meowed and purred, enjoying the touch. They took another bite of their sandwich, continuing to pet the cat. This was a nice way to pass the time.

Suddenly, they heard footsteps - fast footsteps - coming in their direction. They paused, looking up and jerking back as two kids skidded to a stop in front of them.

"HELLO!"

"HI!"

The cat startled and slipped out from under their hand, darting away. Dexter blinked, taking in the two kids dressed as a skeleton and a pumpkin.

...Did they not know it wasn't Halloween?

"Hi?" They greeted. "Why... are you two dressed up?"

"It's SPOOKY MONTH!" the two yelled, grinning at them widely.

"...'Spooky Month'?" they repeated, still confused. The two kids nodded wildly, doing a little dance. They watched, amused. "Well, your costumes are pretty cool."

"Thank you!" the pumpkin kid said, smiling. The skeleton kid tilted his head looking at them closer. "Hey... it's Not-Moloch!"

Dexter froze, a strange chill running down their spine. They tried to shake it off - They didn't know that name and it wasn't even remotely scary. Just strange and...

They smiled, though it was slightly strained. "Th-That's not my name, kiddo. I'm Dexter. Dexter Eroptoph."

"Oh, sorry."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Dexter!"

The three began to talk, Dexter slowly relaxing despite the hyperactiveness of the kids. After a while, they sent the kids off and stood up with a stretch.

Well. That was a nice break.

~~~~

Returning home was a nice feeling. Dexter brushed their hand on some of the cats, greeting them with a smile, before giving their mother a quick hug.

"I'm gonna take a nap, Mom. I'll make dinner when I wake up."

“Oh alright! Have a good rest sweetheart!”

Dexter hummed in response, smiling at their mother as they closed the door. They turned, eyes sweeping over the room, before heading to their open closet. It had been a long day, and they wanted to lie in bed now.

They stripped off their heavy exterminator outfit, lazily kicking it into the closet, before grabbing a plain white shirt. They slipped it on, stretching out as they glanced in the mirror.

They stopped suddenly, squinting at their reflection, puzzled. They could have sworn they saw a shadow, standing just behind them—

Wait a minute.

That wasn’t their reflection—

A fist slammed against the inside of the mirror, making them jump. Eyes burned into theirs, full of rage and hate.

“Give me back my body!” Dexter - The real Dexter Erotoph - snarled.

~~~~

Finally finished this! There will be one more part to this, at least one more that I will write.

#spooky month #spooky month au #walking corpse au #spooky month dexter #pufflewrites

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veikkoalen · 1 year ago

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the dead of night

summary: a rerun of my own private snuff movie, a memory of my corpse, echoed in your head as you stuffed the bleeding ghost of a man into your car.

author's note: @cannabis-snake : #people should draw more of their self inserts hugging/comforting max#it's good for your mental health but what if. what if i also wrote about it

on ao3

your shoulders squeezed in a death grip. a bloodied body on the pavement. the skeleton of a man lying in your bed. everything today was about death, you mentally concluded.

you couldn't just leave him here, in the snow (bile rose to your throat), buried. lucky this time. leather and denim caked with blood and grime and fucking pills on the floor of the car and now you smelled like gunpowder – the man whimpered. "oh, sorry." you lifted the hands from his freshly scratched back.

how has he survived all that at all? he was surprisingly lightweight. you felt like scolding him in the morning for relying a bit too much on the car's warmth. you couldn't ignore the possibility of the skull fracture. you didn't want to think about cuddling with a corpse.

how he ended up like this? beaten to half-death and starved to the other half. you could imagine him tied to a chair, enduring several rounds of bat swings. maybe, the last one was too little to kill him? what he would think when he wakes up? you only read such things in the cheap crime novels you wasted your time with on the shift.

will he try to leave to faint at the door? or maybe stay and let you nurse him back to health. or you could kiss and live happily ever after, you snorted.

you rolled on your back to turn off the nightstand lamp, the body tagging along with you, now lying on your chest. he was crying. in awful, terrible shape in general, he was trembling, muttering something under his breath (nauseatingly familiar). you smoothed his spiky hair, again and again, till the shiver eased, even if just for a little.

"it's okay honey, i'm home." you slurred, slipping into a deep slumber.

you dreamed of blood and clouds.

#max payne x reader #max payne #halonocturne writing

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radiant-featherball · 6 months ago

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Zead: That is why I guided you here. So that you may fully regain your powers.

Isaac wanted Hector to reclaim his power for the satisfaction of beating Hector at full power and didn't want the the easy way out of killing Hector when he was powerless. Isaac also wanted Hector to resurrect the castle for the delicious irony of the traitor who caused Dracula's death also be the reason for Dracula's revival.

But Zead taking credit for guiding Hector makes me wonder: what if Death convinced Isaac to let Hector regain his power in the first place?

It's never made clear if Death and Isaac worked together or if Death and Isaac made their plans independently of each other and Death just used Isaac for his own goals while Isaac might not even be aware of Zead.

Zead repeatable tells Hector where Isaac is and establishes himself as a reliable source of information, then just lies about Isaac being in the Infinite Corridor. It could be Zead and Isaac had planned this beforehand, and Isaac was just hiding while Trevor & Hector resurrected the castle or it could be Isaac is doing his own thing and Zead just keeping tabs on both Isaac and Hector.

The former fits better with Isaac attacking Trevor and presumable never was in Infinite Corridor, but the later do give the possibility of Isaac had planned for more of Hector's route and filled it with more patronizing instructions "Here is how you use your Innocent Devils to reach new places JUST IN CASE you forgot" but Death cut it all out because Death is petty and won't let Isaac have any fun.

Zead: *Sees Isaac's elaborate roadmap for Hector with sassy comments* I'll just skip this and point out where Isaac is.

Also not clear if Isaac was aware of Dracula's vessel needing to to fully succumb to the curse (Death explaining that to Hector leans to they not knowing, or Death, like Isaac, is just an patronizing bastard) and was prepared to be sacrificed to Dracula or if Isaac's plan was:

Let Hector regain his power

Trick Hector and Trevor into resurrect the castle

Kill Hector

Revive Lord Dracula

Be praised by Lord Dracula and told he is the best servant ever & need no one else and he'll ditch that smelly old skeleton

Death thanking Hector for hesitating to kill Isaac implies he couldn't use a corpse even if he succumbed to the curse. Or at least would be worse material. Which also doesn't explain if Isaac knew Death's plan and just assumed he get to kill Hector and use Hector's corpse to revive Dracula.

But back to the original point and assuming for sake of argument Death and Isaac worked together.

PtR version of Isaac brought a sword for Hector and both PtR and MF manga Isaac don't uses any of his Innocent Devils when fighting Hector. That's great evidence Isaac would always have wanted Hector to be at full strength. But that was also when Dracula was still alive, Isaac still had a home and not been years under a curse.

Isaac could have changed his mind how wise it was to be honorable. He could have regretted respecting Hector, convinced himself if he had used Abel or all of his Innocent Devils back then, then he would have made it back to the castle to heroically slay the Belmont and save his Lord and rewarded as he deserves.

Resurrection the castle requires blood of the Belmont and destroying the seal, but even Trevor feared Isaac scratching him was enough to gain entrance to Infinite Corridor and Isaac knew Devil Forgemasters could easily conjure enough magic to break the seal. So nothing about that step of the plan requires Hector other than the satisfaction of tricking Hector.

So it's not impossible Isaac would have wanted to kill the traitor, get blood from the Belmont and destroy the seal himself, and then revive Dracula and take all the credit for himself. None of which would require Hector to regain his power.

But Death wants to use Hector as he is the most suitable for Dracula's revival. And presumably Hector regaining his powers as the Devil Forgemaster is part of that process since it needs Dracula's power as a power source to work. Also because Death is petty and wants to get rid of both Devil Forgemasters.

Death is well known to be a manipulator and Isaac is ruled by his emotions so if Isaac originally didn't plan for Hector to regain his powers, it wouldn't take much prodding on Isaac's former respect for Hector and his desire to prove himself better than Hector.

Isaac could think everything was his and only his own plan, and not realizing Death is tricking him. It fits with Hector's conclusion Isaac was just another victim.

#rambling mode on #It started just as a what if and now I'm just rambling #...I don't think there is any particular point here anymore...

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cartoon-buffoon · 7 months ago

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It's past Halloween but like... Who gives a fuck, the spirit of spooky month is eternal. With that being said I thought it might be fun to share a Skitzo horror fic I made here titled:

HALLOWEEN HAVOC!

Featuring: Skitzo the 1920s killer bear & The Little Dog

Warnings: Death... It's a Skitzo fic, death is unavoidable.

A cold Halloween night was coming to an end; trick-or-treaters began to walk home, porch lights powered off, even candles inside jack-o'-lanterns retired for the night, the holiday of costumes and scares was coming to an end. Despite the neighborhood's liveliness dying by the second, there still standing in the streets remained a small anthropomorphic canine wearing a makeshift ghost costume made from a bedsheet. Looking down into his bucket full of candy the little dog couldn't help but feel unsatisfied, the candy was practically overflowing out of the orange bucket however he still felt like he could use more. Taking a quick glance around he saw all the houses already had their lights off, the street now completely dead. The dog's entire posture slouched over in sadness, just as he was about to turn and walk back home he noticed the out of the corner of his eye slightly, obstructed by his costume, a house with its light remaining on.

All the way at the end of the street lying past a cemetery there was a large house with boarded up windows, despite it looking all but abandoned, somehow its front light remained a shining beacon in the dark. Although the creepy look should have been some kind of indicator of danger, all the little dog saw was a bright neon sign labeled "free candy" flashing in vibrant colors on the building. Looking around once more there was still noticeably no one around, the dog smiled as this just meant more candy for him.

Strolling over with a wagging tail, occasionally fixing his costume, the little dog made his way past all the houses and over to the cemetery. Dead trees stood out of barren dirt as a breeze drifted across the field of graves, branches from the trees rustled against each other, tombstones that littered the area seemed to stare at the dog as he continued onwards. Coming to a halt the little dog took a step backwards, the caw of a bird startling him. Looking up the little dog scratched his head through the fabric in awe and slight confusion, there sitting on the branch was a bird he had never seen before, staring back at him was a tiny stout bird, it's feathers were missing and instead fur covered it's body, the only exception being the tip of its tail and stubby arms. The bird looked at the dog through squinted eyes, its eyelids a stark purple that stood against its brown fur and yellow underbelly, somehow its expression felt predatory in a way, as if the little dog could tell the bird was sizing him up. The evil bird just stared up and down, eyeing the little dog, after a second or two the dog hesitantly moved along trying to pay no mind to the bird.

Just as he moved a few paces past the evil bird and its gaze there was the distinct sound of its cry, turning back around the little dog noticed there was no bird sitting in a tree anymore. Puzzled by this the little dog spun around once more, going back to walking towards the abandoned house there was a noticeable difference in the air, like a mysterious presence that appeared out of nowhere. The graves all looked dug up with the holes now being open and exposed to the elements, skeletons seemingly appeared from nowhere as they dangled from the branches of the dead trees. What startled the little dog the most was the corpse of that same evil bird he saw a few seconds ago laying in front of him, its head ripped off its body and strips of flesh torn with teeth marks littering the carcass. The little dog was thoroughly disturbed now, surely this was just very convincing decor that he didn't see, even the dead bird was just a coincidence, a simple plastic prop. The dog tried to pay it no mind yet as soon as he took a step forward he saw the leg of the bird twitch.

If it was a prop it sure was a convincing one.

With trembling hands the little dog gripped his bucket of candy and kept on his no longer merry way, shadows seemed to dance around him with each step he took towards his destination. It was just an in and out trip, a quick walk to the house, knock on the door, get some candy and leave, there should have been nothing to fret over at all, something was bugging him however. Something about the "decor" around him bothered him, the skeletons hanging from the trees all had marks on them, the same marks on that evil bird "prop" that twitched in front of him. There must have been some logical explanation to what he saw, however the little dog couldn't think of any. Trying to brave through the things he saw the dog just kept walking, occasionally looking over his shoulder on the very rare chance there was someone, or rather, something there.

Eventually the little dog made his way past the graveyard and finally in front of the steps to the house, now up close he could finally see the poor condition it was in better. The support beams holding up the portico looked unstable and broken, the once white painted wood now a brown from the rot that overtook it. The windows that were shattered were haphazardly covered up with wooden planks nailed into the frame. From what the little dog could make out from the ground even the roof seemed to be in a state of disarray nearly caving in on itself, the shingles were cracked and a large hole could be seen on the roof's slope. At this point the little dog was seriously wondering if the candy was worth it, yet the little dog was curious more than anything at who could possibly live in such a place.

The breeze made the ends of the little dog's costume flutter behind him, the porch steps creaked under his feet as he made his way closer to the door. Stepping onto a welcome mat that had a picture of a long serrated blade on it with the words "knife to meet you" next to the weapon. On the wall beside the door the dog saw the address number on a rusted plaque that looked just about ready to fall off, the address being 666. Next to the address there was also a wooden sign with a name on it, whoever the old tenant was had their name scratched off, now there in what the little dog hoped was just red paint was the name "Skitzo". The name seemed familiar to the little dog somehow, like he's seen that name before, like he's seen it several times before in fact, the name itself filled his body with a sense of looming dread yet he couldn't understand why, as if there was some force making him not remember something very important.

Although everything was telling the little dog he should run away and just go back home, looking down at his bucket he still felt his mouth water for just a couple more sweets to satisfy him, besides he already made it this far might as well knock. What's the worst that could happen? The porch light buzzed above him, flies swarmed around and the little dog could smell a foul odor emanating from the house. Despite the smell he looked over his shoulder one last time before finally mustering up the courage to knock, his hands shaking as he did so.

Knock

The little dog retracted his hand and held onto his bucket of candy tightly as his entire body shook with fear under the sheet he was wearing. After a few seconds of waiting he sighed in relief as there was no response, just an old abandoned house with a broken porch light that's on. The little dog smiled slightly seeing how silly he was being thinking there was something out to get him or something waiting inside to jump out. Turning around he bumped into something and stumbled backwards, dropping his candy in the process, looking up at what he hit he saw the last thing anyone would want to see while they were alone at night. Standing tall and looking down at the little dog with crimson eyes that glowed in the darkness was a tall, thin, black and white anthropomorphic bear, its body being fairly slim until its gut protruded out right above his gray shorts. Wielding a large jagged knife in gloved hands the bear looked down at the little dog, its eyes still glowing with malicious intent as its cartoonishly large grin grew wider across the bear's face. Taking a step back in shock, the little dog could see the bear slowly open its mouth, that goofy grin becoming an unnerving smile with sharp pointed teeth, the bear began to speak as the little dog's fate was slowly becoming more apparent. The bear's speech was like that of deep static with his words barely audible.

"Trick or Treat…"

Trying to keep his composure, the little dog looked up at the bear and responded, his costume falling off partially from his shaking "T-T-Treat?"

The bear raised the knife up, the little dog could see his own reflection in the metal "My Treat"

The little dog never did get that last piece of candy to satiate his sweet tooth, however one thing for sure happened from the dog's greed: Skitzo didn't go hungry that night.

#rambles from toon #skitzothe1920skillerbear #my fanfiction #toon's fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #my fanfic #the little dog #I made this for Halloween last year #i think ive improved since then

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sarahfarinaillustration · 2 years ago

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Harvest Moon

Chapter 1: Nightmare

Hunter woke up in a graveyard choking on his own blood. Six feet deep in a crooked chasm of gnarled roots and clotting dirt a searing sizzling white hot pain ate at his flesh melting it’s way deep down into the marrow of his bones.

Sn--ap… Snap… CRUNCH!

The sound was thick, wet, and heavy like a rotting branch cracking beneath mud. It felt like a thick serpent was slithering beneath his skin contorting his limbs. Straining, Hunter gazed down at a paralyzed body he no longer recognized and watched in abject terror as his limbs were ripped apart and stretched by a seemingly invisible force. Bones burst from his skin in a violent spray of crimson, his blood bubbled and burned like acid rain, his joints snapped, and his bones crunched.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk…”

Hunter’s mind went numb. Looming above him, backlit by the foreboding light of the moon, stood the decrepit drolly smiling corpse of Philip Wittebane. His withered smirk stretched unnaturally wide, like a gauzy veil pulled too tight, over his angular skeleton. Protruding from his head were an unwieldy pair of misshapen antlers that caused him to stoop and were coated in thick slime, strings of aged flesh, and tendrils of wiry hair.

“Tsk, what an utter waste, you can’t even die right,” he mocked.

A black residue was beginning to ooze from the crevices of his uncle’s bright eyes and the corners of his wrinkled smile began to sag as his skin began to melt off his concave skull exposing the empty voids of his orifices. Raising a glowing red fist, he summoned a torrent of murky cemetery water which began to gush into the cramped grave.

“No matter. There’s no reason to completely waste coveted ingredients, I’ll just have to salvage what’s left for the replacement,” Philip said.

Reaching his elongated fingers into the folds of his ragged cloak, Philip began to toss items into his nephew’s grave as the polluted water rose. A splintering hunk of pale blue wood, glittering chipped scales stained with gold, shards of blue glass, and a large fractured stone shaped like lungs.

“And most importantly…” his uncle hissed as he leaned down into the flooding grave. Hunter’s heart beat frantically in his chest. Up close the corpse of the witch hunter’s breath was rancid, his flesh was like cobwebs across his skull, and when he grinned his decaying yellow teeth fell from his blackened gums.

No, Hunter thought, no, no, no!

Abruptly, he plunged his fist into Hunter’s chest and tore something out.

“You shan’t be needing this anymore, brother,” Philip spat in his ear.

In the rufescent light of the moon, he sanctimoniously held up a ghastly worn rib bone. Etched into the bone in crude scratches was a name: Caleb. With a careless toss, Philip flung the bone back into the grave where it disappeared with a plunk into the mud.

Suddenly, the earth began to tremble and the crooked grave began to swallow Hunter alive. Above him, what remained of Philip Wittebane collapsed into a pile of fractured bones and goo with a hollow slurp, dripping into the open grave. The gelatinous form oozed over his body, sliding upwards, before promptly stuffing itself down Hunter’s throat. Hunter tried to scream but his jaw was locked open. Raw fire burned in his throat as he choked and struggled to breath. He could feel like uncle's bones lodging itself in his throat. All he could do was moan in agony. Tears pricked in the corners of his eyes.

Help! He screamed internally, please, help me!

Chirp!

Hunter gazed up at the pieces of the moon between chunks of cascading dirt, spindly roots, and waves of muddled cemetery water. High up above a blurry red shape flapped in frantic circles.

Flapjack? He thought.

A flash of gold dissolved everything.

#sorry this draft is so rough I was rushing to get it down my tonight #def not my best writing but I was crunching #happy halloween #the owl house #toh #toh hunter #toh willow #huntlow #toh fanfic #toh fandom #fall #autumn

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darlingsomeone · 2 years ago

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Re-listening to Danse Macabre, an old fashioned waltz — bits and pieces from a good omens fan.

Et vive la mort et l’égalité!

My take: something has been lost when looking at this lovely tone poem if all we get is awfulness or despair. This dance is the embodiment of seizing the day (or night in this case) even past death.

First though, if you’re into this kind of thing, is some analysis of how it is constructed.

Everything is meant. “The piece begins with twelve repeated notes from the harp, signifying a clock striking midnight. The violin scratches out a series of imperfect fifths that do not resolve as they should in well-mannered tonal music. The devil is warming up to play a diabolical dance in a fast waltz time. The waltz had only lately become respectable.”

The original song-poem lyrics with English translation can be found here. More thoughts under the cut:

It’s hard to hope that links speak for themselves if someone is skimming a goofy post like this. The lyrics, then, French and English:

“Danse macabre

Zig et zig et zig, la mort cri en cadence

Frappant une tombe avec son talon,

La mort à minuit joue un air de danse,

Zig et zig et zag, sur son violon.

Le vent d’hiver souffle, et la nuit est sombre,

Des gémissements sortent des tilleuls;

Les squelettes blancs vont à travers l’ombre

Courant et sautant sous leurs grands linceuls,

Zig et zig et zig, chacun se trémousse,

On entend claquer les os des danseurs,

Un couple lascif s’asseoit sur la mousse

Comme pour goûter d’anciennes douceurs.

Zig et zig et zag, la mort continue

De racler sans fin son aigre instrument.

Un voile est tombé! La danseuse est nue!

Son danseur la serre amoureusement.

La dame est, dit-on, marquise ou baronne.

Et le vert galant un pauvre charron—

Horreur! Et voilà qu’elle s’abandonne

Comme si le rustre était un baron!

Zig et zig et zig, quelle sarabande!

Quels cercles de morts se donnant la main!

Zig et zig et zag, on voit dans la bande

Le roi gambader auprès du vilain!

Mais psit! tout à coup on quitte la ronde,

On se pousse, on fuit, le coq a chanté…

Oh! La belle nuit pour le pauvre monde!

Et vive la mort et l’égalité!

Tap, tap, tap—Death rhythmically,

Taps a tomb with his heel,

Death at midnight plays a gigue,

Tap, tap, tap, on his violin.

The Winter wind blows, the night is dark,

The lime-trees groan aloud;

White skeletons flit across the gloom,

Running and leaping beneath their huge shrouds

Tap, tap, tap, everyone’s astir,

You hear the bones of the dancers knock,

A lustful couple sits down on the moss,

As if to savour past delights.

Tap, tap, tap, Death continues,

Endlessly scraping his shrill violin

A veil has slipped! The dancer’s naked!

Her partner clasps her amorously.

They say she’s a baroness or marchioness,

And the callow gallant a poor cartwright.

Good God! And now she’s giving herself,

As though the bumpkin were a baron!

Tap, tap, tap, what a saraband!

Circles of corpses all holding hands!

Tap, tap, tap, in the throng you can see

King and peasant dancing together!

But shh! Suddenly the dance is ended,

They jostle and take flight—the cock has crowed…

Ah! Nocturnal beauty shines on the poor!

And long live death and equality!”

Look, these words and the instrument choices speak of equality in the state of death. Possibly a bit the way Crowley would.

Death wasn’t and couldn’t be hidden politely during those days. The arts featured the dance of the dead, just as we still see Memento Mori in media today. The balance of return from oblivion to celebrate outside of hierarchies was not new. Even the dead could still seize the night. Joy does not die.

Remember Crowley saying that people will be equally dead whether they are killed by Heaven or Hell up in that graphic? If anything, this little note from the domesticated Bentley might be a little rebellion, if not overkill. Maybe it’s A Clue to Aziraphale that they might celebrate a little late if he insists on this trip while ignoring Crowley, just as the Bentley’s musical gift to Crowley of the Nightingale reprise in season two.

Look at what the lyrics said.

The dance was already a part of folk custom or lore, and the xylophone was a country instrument. Saint Saëns was well aware of this, and used both the barely acceptable waltz as the dance and coarse instrument of country-folk. This was done deliberately.

This conservative, restrained composer made choices throughout the work. A dance which had been scandalous not so long ago and an instrument ‘of the people’ so to speak. Composed to fit the exacting pattern of “the devil’s interval”which you can read about here, too (yes it can matter). I’m a geek for this kind of thing so here’s that link again.

The idea of the dance already existed, what he did was to elevate it to something so moving and strong that it endures today, despite its original reception by his contemporaries.

The message of the lyrics is lost in the final product, which is a pity for Good Omens fans, but the delight in the dance remains. There is a freedom, celebration and again, an equality among the freed dancers. (Crepes, anyone?) They take their joy where they can, even if the devil plays the tune.

Like Orff’s Carmina Burana, another work celebrating earthly delights and perils, (Ox rib anyone?) O Fortuna being the most recognizable of this work, Danse Macabre is often used to enhance or promote something only in fragments, very specifically omitting the resolved and therefore to me, ‘peaceful’ end to both works.

I seldom hear the resolution of the frantic dance in the promotion of a scary movie or even as used in Hush, an episode of Buffy (yes, the one with The Gentlemen, on one of the links). This does Danse Macabre a great disservice. The point and the peace are cut off abruptly, leaving the listener waiting for the music to knit itself up at dawn. For this listener, the omission is a constant irritant, but I am perhaps an odd duck. I do have ears though, and they know the difference between resolved and not.

It’s oddly like a cliffhanger, really, when only part of the work is played.

While some people say that this piece is “suffocating” or “overwhelming” I can only wonder at the variety of human experience. There is so much unencumbered joy in Danse Macabre, so much literal freedom of the souls to have this time to celebrate.

Young children are routinely introduced to classical music with this piece. If it were so utterly fearsome, it would be a poor choice indeed for such a task.

What it is, without a doubt, is a composition in old fashioned waltz time that goes far from the norm while following a form.

What else could the Bentley give Aziraphale but that truly intimate dance, a waltz, to the tune of equals and a taste of brimstone?

After all, he has standards.

#good omens #danse macabre #not really done #earthly delights #ox ribs #carpe diem #memento mori #i am not an expert #I just like stuff #image description on alt text #image description in alt #music in good omens 2

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claire-starsword · 2 years ago

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The Guardiana Magic School Run - Part 8

Well, last time was tough, but at least now we get to chill on a little sea voyage.

Except of course we don't. Let's go beat up some zombies instead I guess.

Sadly, the chapter ends as soon as we finish Shade Abbey, so this is our last chance to buy stuff. I still don't have enough money for the Zombie Charmer nor got to win it in yesterday's disaster bonus, but I don't care much. Everyone is hitting hard enough in this team by now, my worries for the next battle are all defense-wise. The Charm Ring will not help because none of the enemies use magic, but it's our last chance to buy them so I'll get a last one anyway. It goes to Gong because I'm still mad. I did check the deals section beforehand, there's nothing new.

The bonus is just money so it's not that pressing, but (hubris incoming) eight turns does not sound like much in a tiny battlefield like this.

Max being alone there worries me little because he's overpowered. Anri and Arthur starting in the front though is a horrifying sight. Thankfully we're all faster than the enemies.

See, there's no need to worry.

Also I just remembered Max is already up for promotion, I honestly have no clue if it's better or not to delay his promotion or whatever, I tend to just promote people whenever they start finding weapons that require promotion. Spellcasters however have a problem in this version that I'll explain later when we aren't, you know, in the middle of battle.

"Yes, we can always make time for a lesson."

"But let's clean up the classroom first."

I'm curious as to how much the Zombie Charmer would be doing, but as you can see the Power Staff is doing just fine.

This guy however is hopeless. Jk, the skeletons do have greater defense. And he's only 3 exp away from his first level up, so any scratch counts. And he indeed gets it next turn, honestly there's not much else to talk about, this battle is super easy compared to the last one, Max isn't talking much damage even when poisoned, and the enemies are downright turning to avoid other characters sometimes, it's ridiculous.

Arthur's level up gives him +0 attack and +0 defense.

sigh. we have a long way to go with this guy.

In the meanwhile Tao continues to have so much fun. The skeletons only take 6 damage though, so there's definitely some resistance afoot despite the game not showing it. Usually that's the case for elemental resistances, but that's weird since fire is often advertised as the element good against undead.

We're at turn 5 and only the Ghoul is left.

Max clearly won't have any trouble unless this thing has absurd attack or something. He also levels up, but gets very little stat increase. I feel Max should be promoted early because his epic level ups have chilled by now.

Which feels weird, because you can see growth rates in this version and, aren't the attack/defense/speed ones implying they grow better at late levels? That's kinda the opposite of what's happening.

Hey, that's more than I expected! Despite being the boss, the Ghoul still has less defense than Skeletons. Arthur gets another level up for his efforts, gaining +1 defense.

Like, just that. 1 stat point. Oh Arthur.

Again his curves imply the opposite of a late bloomer to me, either I'm messing up badly at reading these or there's something wack here.

Also I forgot the Ghoul could do this. This man can't catch a break, but I was actually gonna let others get the exp anyway. Sleep man. Dream of better boats.

Hey, again with this! Stop lying to me about resistances! (Anri used Blaze 1 here).

Because of this nonsense, it takes an extra turn for Anri and Arthur to finish off this guy, but we still get the clear bonus with a turn to spare, because we're that awesome.

Anri also reclaims a relic of Guardiana from the undead forces. I'm legit wondering if he's the only one to drop this, in which case it's very interesting, is this guy supposed to be the real priest? I'd expect zombies to be made from older corpses. Though there was a whole line of Anri relatives buried here anyway. Why am I discussing lore in the middle of a challenge run, see this is what happens when the battle is too easy.

Let's move on, not that there's much else here, we say hi to Amon and Balbaroy and head to Bustoke, ending the chapter. I find it kinda weird that Balbaroy says "let us know when you're ready" but you're not given a chance to get back to town. Feels bad.

But in the end it's good that the post is short so far. We have business elsewhere after all.

And that business deserve it's own post actually. See you soon :)

Losses: 0 Deaths: 2 The expected deaths on Narsha interludes: 0/3

#shining force #shining series #guardiana magic school run #sf tao #i've actually been sitting on this and the next one for more than a week because i wanted to give full attention to narsha's #and this month's been bbbbbusy

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offbranddragon · 4 months ago

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Cont. from here

As they walked Taash kept a good foot, more if they could, between them and the graves at all times. They weren't like their Tama, they weren't scared of the dead like her. Taash was just healthily creeped out by corpses. Looking at the rocks, the memorials, was nothing. Yeah they didn't feel like they were meant to be here but the monuments to celebrate the dead didn't turn their stomach or give rise to goosebumps. The wandering spirits did, and the skeletons doing work. The looming presence of the Grand Necropolis and the knowledge that death was everywhere kept them antsy and uneasy. Not even the peacefulness of the garden helped. Taash couldn't relax and they could have sworn they kept hearing whispering some where. They really really needed to work on saying no to things and saying no to pretty people.

Taash had been largely silent when they entered the garden. Graves didn't need nor want words and, despite their ick, Taash knew to be respectful. Even if this ground hadn't been alive they'd still had walked with every care. It was ground dedicated to people who were once loved, once cared for, and was marked as such. Trampling on someones monument to their loved ones was more than disrespectful, it was horrible, and even if Taash didn't like that said person was probably still lurking somewhere they weren't going to be cruel.

Passing through the gate Taash was still on edge, half expecting to see a ghost or something. When a tight pathway gave to a much more normal looking garden instead of ease Taash couldn't help a sense of foreboding starting to drape over them. It felt like it was waiting in a sense. Their friend really wouldn't take them on this whole outing just to show them her future resting spot would they? Or where she may be intended to bury one of them should they die. Neat but also felt like a threat. Taash flinched at the wisps, hands clenching momentarily. Their snarl fell as Gwen spoke. This wasn't a grave waiting, it was a womb. She may not had been born here but it had birthed her into the world in a way. Being found in a bed of flowers suited her, or so Taash thought, especially compared to the more dank corners of the necropolis. They didn't even notice the lingering wisps, little bits of green light flickers and clustering, as they looked attentively at her. Loyalty was a thing. A spirit plucking her up like one of the flowers she held now, keeping you from becoming dirt to nourish them, was...something. It sat in Taash's head weird. If it'd been a watcher they'd been able to get it easier. Spirits did things in their nature. Compassion would save a kid, that's what it did or was inclined to do. But they still felt weird, jumbled, they didn't want to dwell on it.

"I'm not scared of you-it I mean." Their face scrunched. The magic wasn't scary, the dead weren't either. It was just...gross. Being so cozy with things that should be sleeping. Should be taking the big nap and left the fuck alone. Touching the dead bodies and decomposing them. Having them do things and wiggle about when they should just be sleeping. It was gross! Spirit work wasn't gross! You talked, let them be guests if they wanted, and then they were off. You walked with them you didn't touch their giblets and have them dust stuff once the giblets were gone.

Taash looked away from Gwen. Crossing their arms their gaze fixed on a flower on the ground. "Spirits are fine, you feel like you owe them so i get it. But just- the dead aren't fine. They should be in the ground, left to be, not waving around brooms and organizing books or what ever." Their voice wasn't full of hate but there was a trickle of sour in there. Disgust maybe, unease certainly. "The dead used to be people and all the used to be people freak me out! They should still be people not corpses doing things!"

That was only scratching the surface but they couldn't word it deeper. It wasn't that Taash couldn't see them as different, they could. They could see the skeletons, the wisps, the spirits. It was that that caused them such unease, such discomfort. They could see what had become of a people, a person, that was now gone. They could still see that a person should be there. The person should be walking around and talking and laughing and loving, but instead it was just their skeleton or their ghost. Seeing the necropolis, hearing the spirits, everything just felt wrong. It reminded them that people were gone. One day their friends would be gone, their Tama, their everything would be gone even them. Seeing all the death just pressed that little splinter deeper into them. They didn't want to see the corpses and skeleton, they wanted to see the person. They wanted the person to rest as a memory and be allowed to rest. Return to the earth and flow a new into something else. Do all their breaking down unseen, still be the person they were not the corpse they became. What unsettled Taash about all the undeath was the fact it was a reminder that something was gone, someone was gone. Yeah they did actually find decaying flesh and dead stuff generally gross and touching said stuff was too gross, but the main issue wasn't that.

Just like Emmrich Taash feared death, just differently, and they handled it just as poorly if not worse than him. Instead of sadness it filled them with unease and anger. A denial that was confronted by each skeleton walking around and the souls that whispered as they passed. A denial that only made them more angry and upset. A denial they wanted to avoid that they simply could not when surrounded by death like they were now.

#this got away from me too I apologize lmao #berthindeath #Canon threads Gwen: 1-1 #Canon//Verse//Undecided #threads #threads canon #I think I tagged this right idr #I need to push my agenda that Taash is also scared of death they just don't realize it #the living should be done by the living in their opinion #and once they stop living they should be left to nap #I also do not know how much sense this makes so I'm sorry if it doesn't I am a rambler #if I really really let myself slip this would be like ten times longer #can put it in a readmore if there's issues btw!#ALSO made it its own post to make it a bit neater and easier for you! if you wanna just keep it on this post that's fine! idc!

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thatgayb1tchwhosimps4her · 4 months ago

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Rio At Work/Alternate Ep 5 Ending??

I'm gonna be real with you, I don't know what this is, but I had an idea, and it spiralled into 1239 words in my notes app, so

Also, if you haven't seen eps 5+7, then don't read this, unless you want spoilers (even tho this isn't actually canon, it still spoils stuff).

---

To say the last trial had divided the coven, would be an understatement. Sure, mom absorbing Alice's powers was an accident; Thalia was all too familiar with that. But she couldn't handle everybody arguing, so thinking of the only logical thing she thought that she could do, Thalia climbed back through the door to the trial, to get Rio to act as back-up.

Both Thalia and Kojo crossed over the wooden threshold of the trial room, which come to think of it looked a little like a treehouse. The girl didn't have long to ponder over her thoughts, though, before she was pulled out of them, by a familiar voice.

"You shouldn't be here," Rio warned, her gaze fixed on Alice's now-lifeless body, sensing Thalia's presence. "It's not exactly the safest place for you to be."

"I know," The witch answered, moving to sit down on one of the bottom steps, as the golden retriever followed suit. "But it's too noisy out there, and I'm a little tired of defending mom to people who won't even try to see her as something other than a bad person." She added, scratching behind Kojo's ears, as he looked forward, unfazed by the body of the witch who had thrown sticks for him during their time on the road.

"Your mother can handle herself, cariño. And you know what, you shouldn't have to defend her to Tweedle Dee, Tweedle Dumb, or the kid, out there; they'll cool off. Eventually." The woman stated, smirking slightly at her own joke.

"Was that seriously a joke about dead people?" Thalia didn't need an answer; she already knew it was a 'yes'.

"Look, niña, I would really love to be her knight-in-shining-armour for about the millionth time today, but I have a job to do, and I'd much rather you not see that." Rio said, swiftly changing the subject.

"Well, what if I don't wanna leave? What if I had another motive for sneaking back in here; like I wanted to make sure Alice's ride to the afterlife was as smooth as possible?" Thalia countered, with a slightly smug look on her face, as her mother raised her head to look at her.

"Well, that's just insulting." Rio mumbled, before glancing between her daughter and her familiar, before bowing her head in defeat, and getting back to work.

"Fine, you win. Honestly, there's no way you got that stubbornness from me." She added, grumbling slightly as the door shut, and the room darkened, with a flick of the wrist; her true form shining through.

"Woah-" A surprised expression slipped from Thalia's mouth, as she looked down at the golden retriever sat between her legs; his skeleton now glowing through his skin, like something out of 'Coco'.

Running a hand through Kojo's fluffy coat, the fur glitching slightly under her touch, as she quickly realised that her arm (and the rest of her body) was the same as Death's; as if her clothes, and skin, were see-through, every single bone out of the 206 in her body, was on display for anybody dead, or kind of alive, to see.

"You'll get used to it, at some point." Death spoke, preparing to wake Alice, and go with her to the afterlife.

"Wait-!" Thalia startled, getting up from her place on the stairs, and patting the top of Kojo's head, signalling for him to stay put, before going over to Alice's body, as Death tilted her head up to look at her.

"Sorry, I just- I wanna do something first; say goodbye, or whatever." She added, kneeling next to the corpse, as Death held her hands up in surrender.

Thalia ran her bony knuckles along the deceased witch's cheek, as she spoke shakily. "Hey, so I know this is probably really freaky- I don't even know if you can hear me right now, but I just wanna say that I'm sorry. I should've pushed you out of the way, or something, so you'd still be alive- Don't worry, though; I'm gonna make sure that nobody else gets hurt. By me, or my mom."

Death's eyes softened at Thalia's words, a hint of Rio still there, hidden underneath Death's cloak (and dagger), as the girl gently pulled the necklace from around Alice's neck, over her head.

"I'll take care of her," The spirit reassured, looking over at Thalia, who was knelt opposite her. "You have my word."

The witch smiled softly, pulled the protection witch's necklace over her own head, resting in the centre of her chest, before muttering a small, "Thanks." And looking back to Death again, as if Thalia wanted her to know what else she wanted to say.

"I'm not a mind reader, sweetheart." The spirit spoke, not lifting her head, keeping her focus solely on the task at hand; finishing up her ritual of sending the corpse away.

"Sorry- I'm just not sure if I wanna go back out there, yet; the last God-knows-how-long has been rough." The girl said, keeping her hand on Alice's cheek, using the other to fiddle with the necklace.

"Which I'm guessing is also kind of your subtle way of telling me that you've missed me?" Death asked, standing back up, and going over to Kojo's spot at the bottom of the staircase.

"I don't even know anymore-" Thalia mumbled, watching Death's movements, as she walked over to Kojo; Alice's body disappearing under the girl's touch.

"I mean, I know that I've missed you; 7 year old me is screaming right now," She added, getting up, and moving away from the space where the body used to be. "But I wish I didn't."

"Yeah, human emotions are weird like that." Death stated, before crouching down next to the dog.

Thalia hummed in agreement, kneeling next to both of them, combing a hand through Kojo's fur, again. "Emotions suck."

"That they do, mi pequeña araña." Rio chuckled, as the golden retriever started licking her right hand.

After a few moments, the witch lifted her left hand to rest on the girl's cheek. "I've missed you, too, kid." She said, smiling softly, as she gently ran her thumb over scar on her left eyebrow, and down to her freckles; joining them together, through touch, like a constellation.

"Promise me this won't end the same as last time," Thalia said, pressing her cheek into Rio's hand. "Promise me I won't lose you; I can't go through that again."

"You know I can't do that, my love." Rio answered, huffing out slightly, and continuing to run her thumb over Thalia's freckles.

"You have to. Otherwise how the hell can I trust that anything else you've said to me is the truth?" The witch questioned, pulling away from her mother's touch, despite wanting to stay in that moment forever.

"Hey-" She stated, resting both of her hands on Thalia's cheeks, lightly running her thumbs under her eyes, whipping away a few stray tears. "I promise, that I will do my best to make sure that doesn't happen, mi niña querida. Okay?"

"Okay." The girl muttered, resting her head against Rio's shoulder.

"Okay, sweet girl." Rio said, putting a hand on the back of the girl's head, and coming it through her hair. "Come on, let's get back before your mom ends up killing someone."

"That's probably the smart thing to do." Thalia admitted, picking Kojo's leash back up, and holding onto her mom's hand. "Let's go."

---

Another one done, yay :) This ones been in my drafts for the last 5 months, lmao, thank God I finished it.

-Harlow

#Harlow (AgathaRio's version)#original content #mine not yours #harlow speaks 🦒#mcu #marvel cinematic universe #marvel #agatha all along #agatha all along oc #agatha harkness #rio vidal #🔮thalia vidal🦁#nicholas harkness #nicholas scratch #🕸️atlas parker🧡

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