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awolshippingbracket · 23 days

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#bigbst4tz2 #grian #bigb x grian #bigbstatz x grian #last life #last life grian #last life bigb #third life #third life zombiecleo #double life #double life zombiecleo

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sunflower-rat · 2 years

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Double Life AU (Astera)

TW : Descriptions of death and drowning

‎ㅤ

Cleo is sat in an office, her fingers drumming against the table - because it's too quiet and the way the person in front of her Is writing too slow.

She's long since stopped needing to breathe - but her chest rises and falls anyway.

"You can stop staring at me like that." She glances towards the second archivist in the room who immediately tenses up. "I'm not going to eat anyone. Much less some scrawny little kid like you."

She tolls her eyes and goes back to tapping on the table.

"Everything seems to be in order." The older of the two speaks up. "We just need a general account of your background."

"You already have it." Cleo frowns. "I've given accounts to not one - but four different people. I was told this process would take a day - and it's been a week."

"This will be the last time." They assure. "I promise."

"It better."

Disgruntled, she leans back against her seat as they pick up the pens and ready it against the paper.

‎ㅤ

When she had three lives - she was human.

She was a guard and stubborn and fierce as her mothers were. She went out and hunted on weekends with her sisters and other days she arrested thieves and low lives that dared to threaten her community.

Her rune sat beautifully against her chest - spiralling directly from the middle of her neck in beautiful twisting vines and flowers - it's thorns carefully guarding the runic heart at it's center.

She doesn't remember how it happened.

She hadn't died at all.

All she remembers is walking among the other guards - and suddenly being overwhelmed by a startling pain that felt like her legs had shattered.

She didn't die in battle.

‎ㅤ

When she had two lives, she became obsessed with knowledge.

Adjusting to a rudimentary wheelchair, and keeping her resentment quiet in her chest - she studied runes and curses. She learned about magic and the species that made up her town - and she studied the soul bounds because they governed their world so strongly but so little was known about them. She studied about death and the undead - and how to preserve so many different things.

She studied a flower - vibrant and red, and how its roots burrowed into the ground and bloomed when it was exposed to the moon.

Sometimes she stared at her reflection in the mirror, and wondered if her soulbound knew what they had done.

If they could feel the hate - and the loathing in her heart.

They must have.

She just supposed they just didn't care.

Because she drowned in her own bed, gasping for air she never lost.

ㅤ

When she had one life, she fell in love.

They were researchers that had crossed by chance - an archeologist who studied the forgotten Gods - and gifted Cleo many ornaments and findings from their travels.

Of course, the wheelchair helped keep her patient, but - she was sure if she could walk, she would have drowned them in kisses and slipped their rings on their fingers far before the pastor could've even said a single word.

She wore a totem on her wrist and cherished it like she would the moon.

They were married on a beautiful sunset - and Cleo would never admit it, but it took everything to stop herself from running across the aisle and lifting her lover into her arms and kissing them - because she was so afraid that she'd suddenly lose herself.

Her last life was perfect.

ㅤ

Almost.

Because sometimes-

Sometimes, she would sit awake at night.

She would sit there while her spouse slept - and stare quietly at the apple in her hands - golden and shimmering.

The apple of Eden, or whatever else the religious texts had declared it to be.

Myth stated that it could break the bond between soulmates.

It would separate her and the person who broke her legs and drowned her in her sleep.

The one that made her wake up in the middle of the night, screaming because she could feel something burning her skin.

It would kill the heart that the thorns so lovingly protected with her own flesh and blood.

ㅤ

Because late nights laid awake - clinging onto her spouse, her jaws bared as invisible flames scaled her arms and tattoo'd her flesh with burns she could not see. She looked at her body and saw all the things it could've been - if her so called soulmate hadn't been so careless.

"But why would anyone want that ?"

And Cleo had so many reasons that it filled her mouth like poison.

Not once- but twice, her life had been taken away by something she had no hand to control.

Twice, she had died - unable to do a single thing to stop it.

And she hated it.

Because one day - her spouse would watch her die, because it was her soulmate that was dying instead, and she could hold onto her spouse as tightly as she could - but she'll die anyway.

ㅤ

So one night, she had raised the apple to her lips.

"Because I loved them." She had stopped tapping against the table, remembering the way her spouse had looked at her. "And I didn't want anyone to take me away. I didn't want anyone deciding when I got to die."

And thought about how it'd feel to be free from that fear.

Why would anyone want to be without a soulmate ?

The silence in the room was cold, but she didn't really care.

"And did you ?" They asked. "Did you take it ?"

She held her spouses hand in her own, her teeth grazing against the skin of the apple-

Cleo buried it in her garden and held her partner so tightly against her chest - and stayed up the entire night thinking.

Just... thinking.

"Sometimes I wish I did."

ㅤ

When she had ▊ lives, she had lost everything.

She woke up in a coffin and clawed the ceiling until the wood broke open and drowned her in loosened dirt and mud.

She gasped for air she didn't need and raked her fingers through dead orange hair and accidentally pulled out the vibrant red flowers that now thrived within it like a field.

They bloomed in moonlight and her skin burned in the day, and she sewed her limbs back onto her body when they fell, and refused to look at the rune on her chest - now a distorted shade of green, yellow, red.

But she could walk again.

So she walked, and walked - but never found her home.

She never found her spouse.

ㅤ

"Satisfied ?"

Cleo crossed her arms, staring impatiently at the two before her. "I've recounted my entire history - I've proven I'm not a threat. Now can you let me into the damn city ?"

The two officials looked at each other, hesitant - and eventually approved her request.

She got all her things - a satchel of nothing but some small trinkets and things she could find - and a golden apple buried in between.

#double life fic #double life zombiecleo #zombiecleo #hermitcraft #mcyt #traffic light smp #death cw #injury cw #doublelife #drowning cw #tai post

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isjasz · 4 months

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