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duckybeth99 · 6 years ago

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Magical Assistance (Past!Fic)

hey bois who’s ready for rewrites of past canon here we go. obvs by the ending this is only part one and my friends,,, things will not go down The Way You Think

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Magic was a wild, almost untamable thing. So those who had such skill, of both wielding power and the ability to control it, were regarded highly. And such was something she was trying to achieve.

Having power wasn’t the problem for Beth. Control was.

Untrained telekinesis. Untamed cyrokinesis. With a single hint of her emotions blowing out of proportion, her powers would burst forth just as equal. Beth was gifted with powers, but cursed with the lack of knowledge. So John was constantly trying for her. Teaching, training. When her ice went too far, he could melt it. When she needed a sort of time-out, as rudimentary as it sounded, he would make the whole house warmer to make it harder for her powers. For the movement of objects, he relied on his knowledge of the art of magic to push items back. But he was only one man. He struggled to balance his daughter, his son, his work, put food on the table, keep the roof over their heads.

So he looked for help.

He warned his children constantly how dangerous the UpSideDown was, how people and monsters, benevolent and vile roamed on the same streets. Johnny countered with noting Riverview was the same. John gave his son a look at his comment.

Having been husband to a descendent of the great Amemori witch bloodline, he had quite a bit of resources at his disposal. But even with such help on his side, it was nearly impossible to find someone who knew anything about the rare, spectacular magic that was the power over ice and snow. And after much time, he finally found someone who could help.

A witch held of highest prestige, a woman with great intelligence, asked for her skill and intellect often in the world that was the UpSideDown. Upon being contacted that there was someone asking for her help, John and Virginica met, agreed to terms of help for the young ghostly girl. John made sure she was a woman to trust. She seemed familiar with the Amemori legends and was eager to lend her services.

But even so, on the first day of her lessons, John insisted on coming along to see her off at the very least. He hopes to watch the first lesson, but the likeliness wasn’t high. Yet to his own surprise, Virginica allowed the first visit.

In a Realm full of witches, warlocks, and the sort, stood a lavished home, which couldn’t have been bigger than the farm house, but was far more appealing in its exterior. Isolated from the other witch homes, though most were spread a good distance away to keep peace and avoid conflicts, the home glistened like diamonds in the light. Crystallized, the whole home was created of ice, and around the area was a blanket of snow on the ground. In the same radius, clouds laid over the nearby sky and allowed soft winds and gentle snowflakes. John bundled up further into his coat, though Beth floated freely and unbothered. Johnny pushed up the collar of his jacket and shivered within it. As the family stepped to the front door, knocked and waited, Johnny tucked his neck further into his jacket.

“It’s freezing,” he grumbled. “Is there any chance it’s warmer inside?”

“I doubt it,” John shook his head. “I told you to bundle up more, Junior.”

“I didn’t think we were confronting the snow on Mount Everest.”

The front doors slowly opened with no person pushing them. John looked cautious for a moment before permitting his children to step further inside. Beth stood in the middle, the boys on either side of her, not unlike bodyguards of some sort. The family walked further inside the main hall of the home, spying stairs in front of them. The ground and steps, all the furniture and fixtures were created of ice and snow. Boots clicked on the icy stairs, and there stood the witch.

A heavy, curved woman with pale skin, and hair so blonde it was almost white, curled and frozen to permanent tips on her head. Dressed as a fine witch, she was beautiful, but one thing stood out: her arms and hands. From the very tips of her fingers were a pale blue that faded into deeper light blues, before fading back into her skin. None of the family had ever seen someone with such icy hands.

“Welcome!” Virginica’s voice rang as she descended the steps. A white arctic fox followed her, curling close to her feet and swishing its tail. John knew of those creatures, of the familiars that many involved in the life of witchcraft had. “Mr. Bosteau, you’re looking well from our last meeting. And this must be your son and daughter, Johnny and Beth?”

“Yes,” John smiled proudly and nodded. “My daughter is the one you’ll be teaching, but my son and I wanted to escort and watch her, just this first time. We’ve had such an awful bout of negativity that I wanted to be one-hundred-percent sure she’d be alright.”

“Of course,” Virginica smiled kindly. “You know, I have a son of my own. I know such worry. He’s also skilled in the arts of magic and ice. I’m sure he’ll have no trouble helping me when needed, if at all.” The sound of steps neared the stairs. Virginica looked over her shoulder with a smile. “Speak of the Devil. Bosteaus, this is my son. Aquilo Aster.”

A handsome young man descended the steps just as his mother had. Hair spiked up towards the front instead of the sides like his mother, his hair was a pale brown, skin equally pale and cold to his mother’s. But he had the same bright blue eyes like her. He wore a dark, long coat that covered a pale blue vest and dress shirt under it, dark pants, and boots. His face was still for a moment—stoic and cold. But then, a slow smile formed on his face.

“Welcome,” his voice was smooth. Been felt her glow turn brighter. “I’ve yet to see another ice magic user. Is it you?” His eyes landed on Beth. Her glow turned slightly pinker. She gave a shy nod. Aquilo smiled and moved closer, holding out his hand. Beth gently placed hers in it, and neither of them shivered at the touch. He kissed the back of her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Beth.”

John cleared his throat, “Well now! We’ve got introductions out of the way. I’m very eager to see how these lessons will go.” Virginica gave a simple, slow nod.

“Of course,” she said. “Then let’s begin. Aquilo, you will be my second demonstrator.” She summoned chairs made of ice behind the father and brother, bowing her head at them. “You two may sit and watch.” Johnny crossed his arms and looked at his father for a moment, before John’s eyes insisted his son sit. He did so, albeit slow and with cautious eyes and tense hands. The witch grinned and clapped her hands.

“Now. Let’s begin.”

———

Days and weeks and months of training, and the boys saw progress in the young girl. She would be gone for most of the day while Johnny delivered pizzas around town and John lectured at the campus. Johnny would drive down into the UpSideDown after work to pick up Beth from the Aster house, they’d go home to John just finishing cooking dinner, and Beth would talk all about what she learned and showed her developing control. Johnny would clean up, John would try and continue teaching Beth in terms of normal, human schooling. Some nights Johnny would insist taking over so his worn out father could rest or take personal time on his art. This was the way most days worked. Most of the time.

Except one night, when Johnny had to stay later at work. He texted his dad and sister, annoyance clear in his choice of language. John was stuck with grading at the campus, and neither trusted Beth to venture on her own back home. But that’s when he offered to take her home. Young Aquilo.

“Take her straight home,” Virginica said. “Don’t make her poor family worry too much.”

“Yes, Mother,” Aquilo rolled his eyes. Beth gave a small smile and waved goodbye to her instructor. Aquilo held out his hand to Beth as he led her away from the perpetually snow-covered land around his home. Beth watches the flakes float down. With a gentle wave of her hand, she was able to guide them with ease. Aquilo smiled.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked. Beth nodded.

“It’s... it’s magical,” she said. She felt her glow turn brighter and she stammered with a nervous smile, “I-I mean, obviously it’s magical, but I mean—you know?” Aquilo offered a small chuckle.

“I get it,” he replied. “I’m sorry that I don’t have a bike like your brother to take you home on. We’ll just have to go the long way.”

“I already let them know,” Beth shyly brushed a curl behind her ear. “They worry so much over me. If it’s warranted or not, I guess I can’t say, but it is a fact of them.”

“Believe me, I know overprotective parents,” Aquilo placed his hands in his pockets. “I love her, but I’m all she’s got. She’d be worried sick if anything ever happened to me. I’m her pride and joy. Her best creation.” The two walked in silence for a while longer. “You know, you really are something special, Beth. Your powers... so raw and incredible. I’m impressed.”

“Thank you,” Beth felt herself smile wider and blush more. “I’m... I don’t think I’m anything special. And I’ve never really felt like I belong anywhere. But being here with you and your mom, a-and learning what I can do... I feel like I could be anything. I feel like I belong.”

“You should,” Aquilo stopped walking, smiling kindly. “Because you do.”

“I haven’t felt like I have in so long. Even with Johnny and Dad. I-I know I’m different than them because—mm. It’s... hard.”

“I understand. I haven’t had the best time with people before. But you make all that different to me. I know you’ve been thanking us for lessons, but I should be thanking you, too, Beth.”

They stood still for a moment, Beth shyly holding a hand against her chest. As Aquilo breathed, she saw his breath and realized it was snowing over them. She blinked and looked up at the small cloud over their heads.

“Am I—?”

“It’s us both.” Beth’s eyes looked into Aquilo’s deep blue ones. “It’s an emotional power, remember?”

“So... what is this?”

“What do you think? Tell me about it.”

“It’s... soft snow,” Beth looked back up at the small cloud. “Only over us. No big storm clouds or powerful wind. It’s... soft. Gentle.” Aquilo took a step closer. He gave a smile down at Beth. If the young ghost had a heart, it would have jumped from her chest.

“What emotion is that close to?” he whispered.

“Calm. Peace.” She looked down shyly, almost afraid to admit. Her hands shook. “Love?”

“Yeah.”

Beth slowly closed her eyes, and felt Aquilo’s lips against hers. She felt a shiver, but not caused by cold. Aquilo gently parted from her. He held out his hand to her once more.

“We should get you back home,” he said with a twinkle in his eyes. “Your father and brother could be home any minute.” Beth stared at his hand. “Beth?”

“Did we really just—?”

“I’m sorry if you weren’t ready, I just thought that—“

“No!” Beth’a glow turned bright. “No, I-I liked it. I’ve just... never had anybody like me back that way before.” Aquilo shrugged.

“You should have,” he said. “You deserve it.” Beth, for the first time that night, gave a calmer smile to Aquilo. She gently took his hand.

“Thank you,” she said. “For that and... taking me home.” Their fingers intertwined. Neither shivered or showed discomfort at the cold each other released.

“It’s what boyfriends do.”

————

There were mixed feelings with the developing relationship, for Johnny and his father at least. John wanted to encourage Beth to find love, and Aquilo seemed respectable. He was a gentleman, more mature than other sixteen-year-olds. But his overprotectiveness still pinged and tapped his shoulder. Johnny wanted the same, the same happiness for Beth. But Aquilo seemed too charming. Too good with words. Hell, he quoted Shakespeare when they invited him to dinner to express his feelings for Beth. He compared himself to Romeo and Beth his Juliet.

While not big on theater since high school, he remembered reading the play and his ex-boyfriend talking about it amongst many other plays and musicals. He was familiar with the blind love and stupidity that lead to downfall. One thing was for certain, he didn’t want that for Beth. His little sister had been hurt too much already. Not again.

As John slowly calmed and began to enjoy the intellectual conversations with Aquilo, his punctuality with Beth and always following orders, his managing to sweep Beth off her feet every date they had... he was finding fewer and fewer real, tangible reasons to disapprove. As he worked in his study one night while Johnny scowled in the living room waiting for Beth to come back home, he spotted them in the window, coming back towards the house.

Johnny waited to hear the door open. Minutes passed. He paused his video game and started to head towards the front of house. The young man pressed his ear to the front door, hearing them talk on the porch, sitting together.

“You’re... wonderful,” Beth sighed, resting her head against Aquilo’s shoulder. “I’ve never felt this way for anybody before.”

“Neither have I,” Aquilo chuckled. Johnny wanted to gag. He heard them kiss. The old wood creaked with Aquilo standing up, holding his hands with Beth as he helped her stand. He kissed her knuckles. “Parting is such sweet sorrow,” he brushed a curl from Beth’s hair, “that I shall say goodnight til it be morrow.”

“Goodnight,” Beth smiled back at Aquilo. She started to turn towards the door, Johnny backing up quickly to try and not be caught.

“Wait, I almost forgot!” Aquilo chuckled. “Here. A gift.”

He held out a small box to Beth. She timidly took it, opening it up. Inside was a velvet cloth, that when pulled back revealed a shimmering heart. Beth gasped at it.

“It’s amazing,” she breathed. “Thank you so much.” Johnny peeked through the peephole and watched, before sneaking back behind the door. Barely missing it, Beth entered the house.

“Dad, Johnny!” she called, “I’m home!” Johnny let out an almost silent breath and shimmied away from the wall. As Beth went inside the kitchen, looking for her family, Johnny pretended he just came down the stairs.

“Uh, hey—“ he quickly slid into place, startling Beth. “How was it?”

“Were you there the—never mind. It was wonderful,” Beth sighed dreamily. “He’s incredible. But I’m beat. Um, mind not blocking the stairs so I can go to bed?”

“Sure, sure,” Johnny mumbled, stepping aside. He watched his sister go upstairs, and he felt unease crawl up inside of him. He crossed his arms, shook his head, and grabbed another soda. With this feeling sitting in him, he wasn’t going to get sleep anytime soon. He’s rather just veg out and wait for it to pass.

———

“What is it with them being so nice?”

“Junior, not every one is cruel. You’re too shaken from our bad run-ins.”

“And you aren’t?”

“Watch your tone, Johnny,” John looked at his son, hard and with firmness in his voice. Johnny scoffed and pressed his chin in his hand. “Now when it comes to anxiety, you know it doesn’t get worse than me. But as I’ve watched, the Asters are very good people. They’ve given me no reason to distrust them. Bethany tells us everything she learns, all they do with her... Virginica is a kind mother, a successful mentor, Aquilo has equal intellect and not to mention charm and being a gentleman.”

“But doesn’t it all feel too perfect?” Johnny asked. John sighed. He set down the music box he was crafting, turned his stool and placed a hand on his son’s shoulder.

“I know you’re worried about her, son,” he began. “But Bethany is not twelve anymore. She doesn’t need you to fight bullies who are... gone now, she doesn’t need you to protect her from Merhib. Perhaps we’ve grown too used to being on guard and fearful. Perhaps my paranoia has brought that on to you, too. But I promise you, she’s alright. The monsters after her are gone and over. Maybe we’re not used to peace in our lives, but we finally have it. Adjustment might take time to that, after all this... trauma and fuss.”

“Yeah,” Johnny grumbled. “Maybe.” He stood up from his own stool, grabbed his jacket off the garage wall and shoved his fists into his pockets.

“Where are you going?” John blinked. Johnny grabbed his helmet off the wall.

“To talk to somebody who’ll listen and get what I’m saying.”

#beth writing #ask bloge #welcome to riverview #ghosty blogging #ghosty beth #johnny bosteau #aquilo aster #virginica aster

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bosteau-and-bosteau-blog · 7 years ago

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@sawyer-nw

“Don’t think about it so much.”

The voice comes from behind him, an old raspy voice of a man who’s smoked too much for his own good. John had found interest in this little town, despite his first encounter here, and found himself strolling through the forest, admiring the wildlife. It was then he came across the young man.

“You’re gonna wrinkle like a prune if you keep your face that tense the whole time,” he smiles, stepping up beside him. He holds his hand out, extending his arm towards the second can of soda on the rock. He takes a deep breath, and a plume of flame rockets from his palm. The soda flies off the rock, and pops open as it boils, the metal peeling back from the heat.

John shakes his hand to cool it down, and extends it to Sawyer. “Hope I didn’t scare you, young man. The name’s Johnathan Bosteau.”

#starter #sawyer-nw #thread #ic #john

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beththeghost · 7 years ago

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ɴᴀᴍᴇ: Princess Bethany Arazel Collins

ᴀʟɪᴀs (ɴɪᴄᴋɴᴀᴍᴇs): Beth, Princess, Princess Beth, Her/Your Highness, Snowflake

ɢᴇɴᴅᴇʀ: She, her

ᴀɢᴇ: 18

ᴅᴀᴛᴇ ᴏғ ʙɪʀᴛʜ: September 9th, 1999

sᴘᴏᴋᴇɴ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇs: English

ᴏᴄᴄᴜᴘᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: Princess of Hell

ᴄʀɪᴍɪɴᴀʟ ʀᴇᴄᴏʀᴅ: Murder (caused by lack of control of powers, borders on unintentional but motivated by emotions)

ᴇʏᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴏʀ: Brown

ʜᴀɪʀ ᴄᴏʟᴏʀ: Dark brown

ʜᴇɪɢʜᴛ: 5′4”

sᴄᴀʀs: Faint scars on wrists and arms.

ʙᴜʀɴs: None

ᴏᴠᴇʀᴡᴇɪɢʜᴛ: No

ᴜɴᴅᴇʀᴡᴇɪɢʜᴛ: Technically not (was when died, now weightless)

ғᴏᴏᴅ: Anything chocolate

ʜᴀᴅ sᴇx: Yes

ʜᴀᴅ sᴇx ɪɴ ᴘᴜʙʟɪᴄ: No

ɢᴏᴛᴛᴇɴ ᴘʀᴇɢɴᴀɴᴛ: No

ᴋɪssᴇᴅ ᴀ ʙᴏʏ: Yes

ᴋɪssᴇᴅ ᴀ ɢɪʀʟ: Yes

ɢᴏᴛᴛᴇɴ ᴛᴀᴛᴛᴏᴏs: No

ɢᴏᴛᴛᴇɴ ᴘɪᴇʀᴄɪɴɢs: Yes

sᴍᴏᴋᴇᴅ/ᴅʀᴀɴᴋ/ᴅᴏɴᴇ ᴅʀᴜɢs: Done first two briefly.

ʜᴀᴅ ᴀ ʙʀᴏᴋᴇɴ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ: Yes

ʙᴇᴇɴ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ: Yes

ɴᴇᴇᴅᴇᴅ sᴜʀɢᴇʀʏ: Yes

sᴛᴀʏᴇᴅ ᴜᴘ ғᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴀɴ 24 ʜᴏᴜʀs: Yes

ᴀ ᴠɪʀɢɪɴ: No

ᴀ ᴄᴜᴅᴅʟᴇʀ: Yes

ᴀ ᴋɪssᴇʀ: Yes

sᴄᴀʀᴇᴅ ᴇᴀsɪʟʏ: Yes

ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜs ᴇᴀsɪʟʏ: Yes

ᴛʀᴜsᴛᴡᴏʀᴛʜʏ: Yes

sɪɴɢʟᴇ: No

ᴄᴏɴsɪᴅᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴍᴇᴀɴ: Occasionally (mainly when teasing goes too far)

ʜᴀʀᴍᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇᴍsᴇʟᴠᴇs: Yes

ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴏғ sᴜɪᴄɪᴅᴇ: Yes

ᴀᴛᴛᴇᴍᴘᴛᴇᴅ sᴜɪᴄɪᴅᴇ: Yes

ғᴇᴀʀs: Lack of control, being alone, her powers, her birth father/him coming back

sɪʙʟɪɴɢs: Johnny

ᴘᴀʀᴇɴᴛs: Neva and Merhib (biological), John, Makoto, and Adam (adoptive)

ᴄʜɪʟᴅʀᴇɴ: None

ᴘᴇᴛ(s): Bloodhound (Indiana)

Tagged by: @bosteau-and-bosteau

Tagging: I’m actually gonna tag myself so later on I’ll do this for all the main characters on this blog lol cuz I don’t. have anyone else to tag lmao @beththeghost

#ooc #about #beth

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duckybeth99 · 6 years ago

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((107 Moirin to Alex!!))

“Regardless of what they think, I know you’re an amazing person.”She holds his shoulder as she says this, and the gold glow in Alex’s eyes triggered by his emotions falters. He presses his hands against his eyes, rubbing them to make sure all of the gold vanishes. Alex looks back at her and blinks his eyes, now back to their silver color.“I just—“ he sighs and sits on the steps of Moirin’s porch, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I just can’t keep doing this. It feels like everyone is against me, aside from you, the kids, your mom, Thomas, my family... but everyone else hates me.”“Neva doesn’t hate you,” Moirin offers, “neither does Alice. And I have a feeling that Makoto and Adam are far more open to you than you know. You’ve just known John and Johnny for longer and are used to that being their household.”“Yeah,” Alex sighs, “but... but all of them, they barely know me. Johnny’s known me my whole life with my sister! He didn’t hate me then. And, and it’s not just them who hate me, what about Mabuz? And Virginica, and Aquilo, and Discord, and Merhib! Beth’s own biological dad killed me!!”“Yes, but John didn’t,” Moirin points out. Alex still looks frustrated. “Alex... John doesn’t want anything bad for you. He’s just... stubborn. And so is Johnny. And Mabuz. They’re holding you to ridiculous standards that none of them, including Mabuz, can uphold themselves. All those other people hate more than just you, too, Alex. Believe me.” He goes quiet and thinks on what she says. He sighs again and rests against the handrail of the porch steps.“You know,” Alex murmurs, “when I died, I kept asking ‘why me?’. I kind of haven’t stopped since with the Bosteaus and Discord.”

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duckybeth99 · 6 years ago

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oh ya another thing I was talking to @genjis-girlfriend abt this trip among my other giant au post is that we were trying to figure out harry potter houses cuz let’s be real: I Don’t Care About The Plot I’m just here for a cute magic boarding school w weird teachers and sorted houses, so here’s what I have figured out. beware, my understanding of houses have shifted from Basic to Slightly Less Basic so uhhhh some of these May Surprise You

Beth: gryffindor, half muggle blood, Alex: hufflepuff, muggle born, Mabuz: professor, muggle born, gryffondor, Merhib: also a professor, Beth’s bio dad (haven’t figured out yet how/why she ends up w the Bosteaus in this au), ravenclaw, Alice: half muggle born, hufflepuff, Esther: ravenclaw Zachary: a professor also but obvs Much older than Merhib, ppl constantly confuse them when saying “professor collins” tho lol, went to school w John and the other adults, a slytherin, Virginica: professor, slytherin, Aquilo: slytherin

I could go into this more but this is the very basics lmao

#welcome to riverview #ask bloge #hp au

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duckybeth99 · 6 years ago

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Familiarity (Past!Fic)

sup bishes I’m not off the backstory fic train also I figured out I can maybe post this via browser on my iPad cuz everything looks like desktop on it so!!!!! Cross ur fingers

———

He met her a couple times. Just a young girl from further in the town, went to the local high school, the same as he was expecting his child to go to later.

He met her at the gallery held every school year. Everything the students felt had been their best work was on display, not only from the fine art program. A few music students auditioned to play music, culinary students made treats and snacks to serve during the event. Film students showed off movies they made. The most exciting part would be when local professionals would come, see the work, talk to the creators, offer tips. People would get their names known. Some from colleges would visit.

That’s how they met.

Neva took a deep breath, playing with a curl at the side of her face. Merhib stepped closer beside her and squeezed her free hand. She almost jumped at the sudden touch.

“Easy,” he smiled down at her. “It’s gonna be fine.”

“Nobody’s come up to say anything to me,” Neva looked around anxiously. “I think I picked stuff too weird.”

“You’re an abstract kind of artist,” Merhib shrugged. “It can freak people out. They’re more into those fancy-pants classical stuff.” When Neva didn’t perk up, Merhib looked at her more comforting, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. He pressed a kiss to her temple with a smile.

“Just give everyone a minute,” he calmed her. Neva took another breath.

“I have to go get ready for my song,” she murmured. “I think people will say something after that. Can you watch over my stuff?”

“Sure,” Merhib pressed a kiss to his new girlfriend’s soft lips. She gave a smile up to him, much more relaxed. As she headed off to the side of the room where the performers were to play, Merhib leaned up against the wall, scratching the back of his hair as he watched the people come and go. He adjusted his jacket and waited for her to start, crossing his arms.

As he watched the people come and go, he reflected on actually acting his age for once. He died at seventeen. Permanently stuck on the border of being an adult and being too young. Yet, he was the king of a Realm, held it all in the palm of his hand, expected to be a ruler. Mabuz commented every once in a while how immature he could be, how his choices weren’t always the best and tried to steer him the right way.

But for once, he was his age again, and the only downside was having to act normal.

Merhib looked to another oat of the gallery, seeing a man wander and admiring the artwork. Some photography, some sculptures, ceramics and such, but primarily fine art. Paintings, dry media. Some students seemed excited when he talked to them.

He was an older man, with ginger hair and flecks of grey in it. A mustache rested under his nose, hair with curls. It gave him a weird sense of deja vu at seeing both his hair, and his face in general. He looked too familiar. Brown eyes instead of blue ones like the ghost he saw. Alive, unlike the ghost he met years ago when he was alive.

His heart jumped for a moment and his hand curled tighter against his arm.

No. Couldn’t be.

Neva starting to sing and play on her guitar pulled him from his thoughts. He listened to her sing with a smile, playing a rock song acoustically to prevent the school administration from yelling at her again. She performed just as well either way—almost everyone seemed distracted from what they were don’t to just watch her.

Merhib couldn’t help but feel his dark eyes glance sideways as the other man clapped politely when the song ended. He seemed pleased himself as well. Merhib turned his gaze back to Neva and clapped, giving a whistle to her. Neva laughed as soon as she heard it, stepping aside to let the next person play.

Merhib glanced over his shoulder one more time as Neva set her guitar down and made her way over, and he noticed the other man briefly staring back at him, too.

Could he have really—

“Hey!”

Merhib turned back to Neva and grinned, pulling her close, pale hands on her back and pressing her against him. She stood on the tips of her feet and kissed him excitedly.

“Were you spacing out or something?” Neva smirked, wrapping her arms on his shoulders, one of her hands sliding through the back of his ginger, curled hair. He shook his head.

“Nah,” he pressed his forehead to Neva. She snickered.

“You’re a bad liar,” Neva teased. Merhib slid his hands to Neva’s hips and smirked back with a quiet chuckle. “Just like always.”

“Stop,” he teased. Neva laughed again and moved to give him another kiss.

A clearing of someone’s throat stopped the two. On instinct, Merhib quickly pulled himself off of his girlfriend. Neva brushed a curl behind her ear and shuffled on her feet, eyes down despite the soft smile on her face.

“Sorry,” said Neva quickly. It was the man Merhib had been watching. The moment his girlfriend lifted her eyes, she became excited once again. “Professor Bosteau! Oh, I’m so sorry, hello!”

“Hello to you too, li’l lady,” he smiled back. Merhib felt one of his hands curl and uncurl. He shoved his fist into his pocket, other hand holding Neva’s. “Sorry for interrupting. I was just wondering if this was your artwork here.” A worn finger gestured to the paintings and sketches behind her. Neva nodded excitedly.

“Y-yes, these are mine,” she felt her cheeks flush as she stepped aside to show her artwork, pulling Merhib with her. “All stuff I’ve done this year.”

“What grade and age are you, my dear?” Professor Bosteau bent closer to the paintings to examine them, squinting past a small pair of glasses over his eyes.

Neva’s smile was at risk of falling off her face. “I-I’m sixteen,” she looked up at her boyfriend with hope in her brown sparkling eyes. “Just turned sixteen, actually. I’m a junior.”

“Your work holds a lot of expression,” the Professor nodded. “Pretty hard to see in artists your age. They’re having too much or a hard time in technique to express it. You need a little more technicality in your brushstrokes and blending,” and he moved his fingers in the air, close to the paintings, and Neva hung on his every word, “but I’m sure with practice in the next art class up, you’ll be in a fantastic place. Have you considered attending Riverview Community College?”

“Yes, actually,” Neva twirled a lock of her hair excitedly, “I-I actually really like the campus and I’m keeping my fingers crossed I get you as my art professor, sir.”

“Aw, shucks,” Professor Bosteau chuckled. “You hold me with too high an honor. But thank you. I’m flattered either way. I’ve got to visit some of the other artists, but—“ and he took both of Neva’s hands in his and shook them, “—I do hope I see you again, and I wish you luck. What was your name?”

“Neva Arazel,” the young girl beamed. Professor Bosteau nodded. As he made his way, Neva danced in her spot. Merhib stared at John in disbelief.

“Merhib, did you hear?” she asked excitedly, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and kissing him eagerly. “He liked my stuff!”

“Yeah,” Merhib pushed out the best smile he could. Neva looked at him unsure.

“You okay?” Her words brought him back for a moment. Merhib blinked and gave a smile, more sincere and full.

“Yeah,” he said. “I just wanna get some air.” Neva gave him a kind smile and linked his fingers with hers.

“We can head out,” she said. “Thank you so much for being here with me.” Merhib smiles and kissed her forehead.

“Anything for you.”

——

At sixteen years old, he made the way to the old wailing house.

Legends told of a ghost living there, a soul who was lost and punished to face total damnation, roaming the earth and to never escape into a peaceful afterlife. They said he was a man tortured by his past, by atrocities he committed in the past. Young people went there often on dares, see who was brave, see who was too afraid. People who previously didn’t believe in ghost were terrified by the reality they saw.

But he wasn’t here on a dare. He was here based on his grandfather’s notes and the information he gathered on the legend.

Merhib couldn’t ask his driver to take him without his father finding out. So, instead he hailed for a taxi to take him as far as he could, then walked the rest of the way though the infamous woods of Riverview. He followed the river the town was named after to find his way into the woods, keeping his flashlight and both his and Zachary’s notebooks close to himself.

He was going to face it. The demon that resided there. No, the ghost. He would speak with him. Make contact. It would be an incredible advancement.

Merhib walked up to the creaking steps of the porch and held tight to his journals. Tucking his flashlight under his other arm, he gently opened the door.

The smell of death flooded his nose.

Merhib held back a gag, grabbed his flashlight and switched it on. He slowly wandered from the front hallway to the living room, both frightened and fascinated. His grandfather said people he worked with years ago lived there. Both went missing, at different times. With his grandfather now passed, his research was all he had left to go off of for his guidance.

Merhib felt the whole house sway for a moment, but not like an earthquake. For a moment, he thought the wind was beating against the old place. But the namesake of the home...

Merhib took only another step further before the ghost revealed itself.

“Intruder,” the house seemed to whisper, as though thousands of voices were intertwined with the wood and walls, the floorboards and every creek. Slowly, a faint blue glow made itself known. Merhib stared wide-eyed at it. The ghost. He was real.

“You shouldn’t be here,” the ghost whispered. “No one should be here. Not in this damned place.”

“I-I’m sorry for intruding,” Merhib spoke up, and he realized his pale, long and thin hands were shaking. “I-I came here to—“

“Stare at the monster, didn’t you,” the ghost interrupted. “Came on a dare. I know how you youths are.”

“That’s not it at all!” Merhib gave a weak, nervous smile and soft laugh. “I-I came because... because I want to know who you are.” The ghost seemed confused. He slowly floated down from above the young man and faced him. Merhib could see just how tired, how worn the spirit was.

“No one should know who I am,” the ghost sighed. “I am... I am a pathetic excuse of a man, I’m a monster.”

“I don’t think of you like that at all.”

“You hardly know me, young man.”

Merhib held out his hand, startling the ghost. He gave another small smile, “My name is Merhib.”

“People... call me Ghost now,” Ghost said, but didn’t touch Merhib’s hand. He slowly set his hand back down. “What... what do you have there?”

“Oh, uh,” Merhib blinked and looked at the books in his hands. “Research. From my grandfather. It’s how I began to learn that people like you are out there.”

“Monsters?”

“I wouldn’t put it that way, Mr. Ghost.” He fumbled with all the objects in his hands momentarily, “Uh, a-and I have my own notebook, too. I wanted to get to know you. Learn about you. You’re incredible.”

The words didn’t sit right with Ghost, “You should not say those sorts of things, Merhib. It can lead you on a dark path.”

“H... how so?”

“You could make the same mistakes as me.”

“What... mistakes did you make?”

Ghost hesitated, and the whole house seemed to creek. He sighed, and confessed, “For the sake of my warning to you... I’ll tell you. I once worked at a laboratory. We... we researched people like me. Ghosts. Witches. Psychics, mermaids, all sorts of creatures. We studied them until they were in pain. Until they were dead. I... I hurt these creatures, a-and some were children—“ The house started to violently vibrate again. Merhib dropped his books and light, feeling the ground shake. As the ghost cried and wailed, Merhib found it harder and harder to stay on his feet. The boards creaked and broke; the ghost cried and cried, no words coming from his mouth anymore. Drowned out by his regret. Merhib looked around for something to hold on to. As he tried to move, he slipped on his light and books and fell to the floor.

Merhib saw something from higher above shake. The roof was caving in. He tucked his arms over his head as one of the windows vibrated and shattered near him. Unveiling himself, he looked up as the roof was ready to fall.

“Stop!!”

He instinctively held his arm up, up at the caving roof, as the wood already began to fall, and it stopped. Eyes shut tight, Merhib was still prepared to get hurt. The house still shook for a moment, until Ghost noticed what the young man was doing. He watched the parts suspended in air for a brief moment before it all fell back down. Merhib rolled out of the way, but nothing else fell. The house stopped shaking.

“How did you—?”

“I’m sorry,” Merhib got up and dusted off his vest, “I-I didn’t mean to bring up something that was going to destroy the house.” Ghost went quiet and looked sheepish.

“I shouldn’t... have reacted in such a way,” he murmured. “But don’t you see? It’s dangerous here, it’s dangerous to talk about what’s happened.”

“I... see,” Merhib slowly nodded. He picked his flashlight back up and looked around for his notebooks. Ghost floated towards one. He recognized the handwriting, and his wounds oozed from the back of his head, the house turned cold. Merhib went to grab the other notebook, when he saw Ghost staring down at it.

“Um—“ Merhib reached for the notebook, but Ghost’s cold gaze stopped him. “My—m-my book—?”

“This is not yours,” Ghost whispered. “This was his.”

“His?”

“Zachary Collins.” The dead man’s words held venom as he spat out the name in disgust. Merhib slowly picked up his notebook.

“H-he was my grandfather,” he said. “He died a while back. Left all this stuff for me.” The house vibrated again, but it was a different kind. Not of wailing. Not of mourning. Of hate. Of rage.

“That—that monster—!!”

“Huh?!”

Merhib ducked his head again and avoided more rotted, broken wood falling. Ghost seemed to turn monstrous, violent. His glow was intense, matching the rage and pain in his eyes. Merhib stared at him in fear.

“He—he did this to me—“ Ghost gripped his head. “He convinced me to work there! Told me what I was doing was right, he threatened me, Adam, he was cruel, he encouraged us—he told us to kill them, they were just children—!!”

Merhib managed to reach a table and duck under it. Everything was falling, everything was shaking, and it felt like it followed him wherever he turned. The rage was directed at him.

“I-I’m not him!” Merhib shouted about the noise, the sheer calamity, but the ghost’s rage continued. He pointed out, out the front door.

“Leave!!” Ghost’s voice turned monstrous. “Leave and never come back!!” Merhib grabbed his light and books and ran out of the house as fast as he could. He feared that if he didn’t, the entire place would collapse onto him. He tumbled into the dirt and stared at the place in shock.

Merhib slowly stood up and turned back to follow the river, back to town. He wiped away the blood from his tumble and the dirt the best he could before he hailed for another taxi. Climbing in once one finally showed up, he told the driver to go back to Shoreline Manor, and the entire drive, Merhib continued to flip through the pages and think about the ghost.

His grandfather’s ramblings were true. All he wrote about were true. Despite everything, he was still a brilliant scientist, a man who wouldn’t let anyone stand in the way of his progress. That wasn’t inherently bad. But if what Ghost has said were true...

He would get answers. He wouldn’t do it how Zachary did, though. Ghost gave him plenty warning against it. But the answers would come to him. All would know.

#beth writing #ghosty blogging #neva arazel #merhib the demon

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duckybeth99 · 7 years ago

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A Town of Change and Progress (Western AU)

hey uh I fuckin hate how tumblr breaks my formatting on fics it takes me an extra few minutes to edit this shit and a lot of my old fics at least on mobile r broken now thx tungle dot com. anyway welcome to western au reboot choo choo choooooooo

——

Some would think the town was founded years and years ago. But in reality, it was actually only a short time ago.

It started when the posh Jackson Morrison came into town and founded a little place called Riverview Ravine, in the wild and free expanding landscapes further out from the loud and congested cities. He founded and financed it from his line of banks and businesses; he chose people to lead the town’s development and he would be sent information on his new little town frequently. He was too busy with his businesses to move there, but he did want the bragging rights of being a town founder and use it as a sign of his power that even his other business associates didn’t have yet.

So, he picked a few simple people to start businesses, care for basic needs in the town. He employed a mayor, a doctor, a school teacher, a barber, a dress shop owner, people to run a farm for the local area, people to run a local train station, people to run a jail and one of his banks, so on and so forth. Carefully chosen was each person to be sent to settle this new little town.

Of course, he knew more people would move in over time. He expected this place to thrive. And in just a few years, it began to.

———

“It’s only a minor headache,” John chuckled and looked back to Moirin. “Flynn’s gonna be just fine. Keep him well hydrated, let him rest for a while. Probably was just working too much lately.”

“I don’t know what I would do without you, John,” Moirin smiled at her friend gladly. Flynn kept rubbing and almost pawing at his forehead. Moirin gave a sympathetic look to her eldest boy. “Well, I’m sure we have enough staff to handle missing one waiter.”

“But I wanted to see the show!” Flynn frowned. Moirin tsked at him.

“No buts, young man,” she said. “The minute we get home, you’re heading straight to bed.”

John smiled kindly at his friends when he heard something downstairs. He looked back to Moirin, “‘Scuse me. You know your way out, right? I’m sure that’s Junior downstairs.”

The doctor headed down from his upstairs medical room down to the back porch. There, he saw Johnny, sweaty and dirty, splashing his face with water from the faucet.

“No need to make such a racket,” John teased. “You know how your father likes to sleep in.”

“Yeah? Well, some of us have to get up early for work if we like it or not,” Johnny rolled his eyes. He snatched up a broom from the side and hit it against the ceiling, “Here that, Dad?! Wake up! I bet Alice has had the shop open for hours already before you!”

Muffled from upstairs, the two men heard the other man shout back down, “I need my beauty sleep! Stuff it!!”

“Well, now you’ve got him started,” Makoto packed her school books. “I hope you’re happy, boys.”

“Would it kill him to be useful?”

“No, but it could kill him to wake up before a certain hour. I’m convinced that’s why he sleeps so much.” Makoto offered a teasing smile to her son before crossing to John and kissing his cheek.

“Go and educate the youth,” he smiled.

“You make it sound so noble,” Makoto rolled her eyes, but her smile persisted. “Has Beth left already? I didn’t even catch her this morning.”

“She insisted on walking by herself to school,” Johnny finally had his face completely washed. “Pops and I said no, so she walked with the other kids. They’re all waiting for you, I’m sure, Ma.” Makoto made her way over to her son and kissed his cheek.

“I’ll be off,” she waved to her family, and John heard the thundering of Adam from down the stairs.

“Damn it, Johnny, let me get a good night’s sleep for once,” he scoffed as he adjusted his coat. John laughed.

“Now, now, don’t fight,” he smiled, placing his hands on both their shoulders. “Junior, go ahead and get your rest. I promise I won’t disturb you. Adam, eat up some breakfast before you go to the shop.”

“Only if it’s edible,” Adam raised his head high and strode to the kitchen. Johnny dusted off his hands on his work clothes.

“Well I brought in fresh—“

“Stop wiping your hands on your clothes!” Adam scolded over his shoulder.

Johnny scoffed under his breath, “Neat freak.”

As much as his family clashed, Johnathan Bosteau, Sr. loved his odd family.

———

As Alice tried to hop up and down to dust the top of one of the tall cabinets, Adam rolled his eyes, gently shooed her away, and took the feather duster and cleaned with ease.

“You’re too short for any good housework here,” he waved his hand. Alice scratched the back of her head with a timid shrug.

“But I do everything else alright!” she smiled. Adam crossed to the front door and flipped the open sign to closed. “I’m your best employee!”

“Yes, it’s a very big achievement,” Adam smirked over his shoulder. “Very hard with you being my only employee. Go on upstairs and get some rest. We have a lot of fancy shipments to tailor tomorrow. Some grand party coming up in a town not too far.” Alice nodded eagerly and headed to the upstairs apartment of the the shop.

Adam kept that place from before he married John and Makoto, when he lived alone and secluded. True, it was easy to care for himself in such a situation, but he had to admit it was rather lonely. He was glad to have the family he did now.

He started to rent it out to the McEllen family when they first came into town, after he was married. To a Molly and Melissa McEllen. Soon, Molly herself moved out to live with the old bakery, Jeremiah Schwartz, her new husband. Though, Adam had to admit, the addition of Alice seemed to pop up quickly after their union. Too quickly. Before they even met.

He didn’t care. It was their business. So he let Melissa rent the apartment, cut the price to minuscule when she started to help him in his shop. When Schwartz died, Molly handed off the bakery to another man, some timid man who barely ever came out of the damn place. She went back to the apartment, worked for Adam again, and he saw the little baby become a teenager who worked for him now, with her mother and grandmother now passed.

As Adam locked up his supplies and front door, he thought he heard something. Keen as he was in his senses, he brushed it off casually as some kind of animal skirting about.

But still, as he was about to leave through the backdoor, he wasn’t too sure.

So he sat in the dark and waited.

———

Alex waited until the entire town was asleep. The train station and jail were the only places with lanterns still on outside the home. But it didn’t look like anyway was awake. The saloon was shut, houses dead quiet.

The young man adjusted his hat and kept his eyes peeled as he slowly, quietly guided his horse towards the back of one of the shops. In his time in this line of work, he knew people rarely locked up the back doors.

“Sh,” Alex pressed a finger to his lips as he climbed off his horse. He pet his snout and gestured for him to lie below the window. The horse bowed its neck the best it could. Alex smirked at the effort and gave his friend an apple.

He slipped to the backdoor and slowly twisted the knob. Unlocked. Perfect.

Slipping through the shadows, weapon resting against him, Alex snuck inside the shop. Some food was available. He opened up his satchel and tossed in the few fruits. Snuck up to one of the shelves and pulled out clothes, as much as he could shove in. This was enough.

As Alex turned to leave without any conflict, his grey eyes glanced at it.

He spotted a gorgeous sculpture, elegantly crafted. It had to be worth a lot.

He glanced at the backdoor. This would be enough for the orphans and himself, what he already grabbed. But this could get him everything else he needed, too.

The young boy slunk towards it, carefully picking up the sculpture.

A lamp clicked on behind him.

“I knew I heard something,” Adam sat, legs crossed and head held high, shadows crossing his face. “Put it back. Everything you took.”

Alex looked at the sculpture in his hands.

He bolted to the backdoor.

Surprisingly quickly, Adam stood and grabbed Alex by his satchel, pulling him back. The old bag tore. Slipping over everything that spilled, Alex lost hold of the sculpture.

It shattered right in front of the door.

With a surprising strength, Adam pulled Alex back towards him with a furious look in his eyes.

“You little—“

“Adam, what’s going—“ Alice rushed down the stairs, then shrieked at seeing Alex. “Thief!! Thief!!”

“Alice, go get help!” Adam barked. She shuffled anxiously on the tips of her toes before she ran out of the shop.

“Let go of me!” Alex tried to tug himself away. Adam scoffed.

“Oh, no you don’t,” he growled. “Thieves like you have to pay.”

“Let go!” Alex stomped on Adam’s foot, then fought out of his hold. The thief ran to his broken satchel, picked it up, and grabbed all the food and clothes he could carry.

Packing everything quickly onto his horse’s pouches, he held tight to his hat and the reigns of his horse. The horse whinnied loudly, standing high briefly before the two charged out of the town. Alerted by the sound of the horse and Alice getting help, most of the townsfolk rushed out of their homes to see the commotion.

Alex tugged the reins, twisting his horse away from the people who tried to stop him. He hasn’t been caught yet, and he wasn’t going to get caught now, in this place, by these people. Almost close to escaping the town, Alex grinned and patted his horse to go faster.

He was stopped by another man on a horse, one much larger and older than him. His badge was what made Alex sweat as opposed to the size difference. In his panic, the young thief froze, allowing more of the townspeople to circle him. Several women and men held up their own ideas of weapons, ranging from a frying pan, a cane, and an actual shotgun.

Alex swallowed.

———

“Now there’s no need to argue about him,” Drefan burst inside the saloon, hands resting on his belt and holster. Early that morning, the adults of the town gathered to discuss about the thief who strode into town late the prior night. “He’s in the jail. He’ll rot in there.”

“We’ve never had to use that jail since this town opened!” Vincent fussed. Smaller than the rest of the adults, he had to emphasize himself often. “Now we actually... have to care for it! Have upkeep!”

“Is that something for us to be genuinely concerned about?” Drefan sat down amongst all the others. “What an odd trifle.”

“I have a right to be concerned—“

“Don’t start another fight,” Mabuz rubber his forehead in an annoyed manner. “Please.”

“What if he breaks out?” Valerie swung her feet anxiously.

Violet gasped, “And comes after the girls in the show?!” The twins held hands and threatened to cry.

“I didn’t even think of that!” Alice panicked.

“He had the look of a killer! He’ll get us in our sleep when he has the chance!”

“Now you’re being ridiculous—“

“—Everyone, please—!!”

As the table turned into chaos, Adam kept his arms and legs crossed, leaning back with a cool glare.

“Is no one remembering—“ he spoke firmly, loudly, above all the other panic, “—that he’s the one who robbed me and also broke an original sculpture famed at more money than any one here can comprehend?”

“Now a vase is a real trifle,” Vincent grumbled. Elliot chuckled beside him.

“Laugh it up,” Adam raised his head high.

Drefan rolled his eyes, “We’ve returned all your stolen goods, Adam.”

“Damaged goods,” Adam growled. “And you know what? I’ve had enough of this going around and around! I’m shutting this down now.” The man stood from his seat, looking down at everyone else. “You’re so concerned about caring for a jail and him being an inconvenience and criminal, then why don’t we fix that?”

“And how, Adam,” Virginica steepled her hands, resting her chin on the backs with a callous and judgement gaze, “do you expect to do that?”

“Simple,” Adam crossed his arms, standing tall over everyone else. “I’m going to make him work for me. He’ll work on a debt that he’s accumulated from the damaged goods and sculpture. I’ll keep an eye on him, every good deed and work day will take off money from his debt; every bad deed adds more money to his debt.”

John looked with wide eyes at his husband. “You can’t be serious.”

“I had the worst crime done to me,” Adam placed his hands on his hips, “so I’ll dish out the punishment as I see fit.” As Drefan stood to protest, Adam moved to him and stood toe to toe. “What’s he going to learn in jail? Nothing. He’s going to die as rotten as he acted last night. Or, as a town that likes to call itself a place for change and progress, we decide to apply that change and progress to him?” Adam shrugged. Drefan looked to the mayors.

Vincent anxiously drummed his fingers on the table. Mabuz rubbed his chin in thought.

He glanced his teal eyes up at Adam.

“I’ll allow it,” he slowly nodded his head.

“What?!” the rest of the town members practically shrieked in unison. Mabuz nodded his head again.

“Adam is right,” he said. “As much as saying that leaves a bad taste in my mouth. We can’t claim to be a town founded on change and progress and not offer the same chances to him.”

“He’s a criminal!” John spoke up. Mabuz glanced his eyes at him.

“Yes, and so were several people at this table once before,” he said. Almost everyone glanced off or fidgeted, heads down or looking away from each other. “We offer the same thing to all these other people here in this room, in this town. We’ll do the same. It’s what’s right. Adam will be in charge of all of this. Punishment as he sees fit, reformation as he sees fit... but we will check up on it. And if anything goes wrong, we will either give him to someone else, or put him back in jail.”

Adam grinned proudly. Drefan’s face flushed with an anger he forced himself not to express. Mabuz cleared his throat, stood up and adjusted his bolo tie.

“Meeting adjourned,” he said. As everyone slowly and anxiously stood back up to leave, Mabuz picked up his cane with Vincent trailing after him and babbling on concerns everyone clearly had but wouldn’t voice. Adam watched everyone leave, people avoiding looking at him. Makoto stepped up to him and locked her arm with his.

“You lie perfectly on the line of being a genius and being a complete idiot,” she teased. Adam shrugged with a proud grin.

“And yet, everyone will see that this will be my greatest achievement yet,” he said, pressing a kiss to Makoto’s cheek. John stepped up beside his lovers and sighed.

“Adam, you sometimes frustrate and confuse me to no end,” the old doctor murmured. Adam chuckled.

“I like to think it’s part of my charm, dear.”

#Beth writing #welcome to Riverview #ask bloge #Riverview ravine #western au

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