#--long post

The building was small, clean and the staff greeted him with a friendly smile as Reaper walked in. His usual exploits carried him into worlds still struggling to grasp the concept of electricity but today the world he traveled to was more modern. The receptionist at the counter had offered him a freshly printed out lament badge with ‘visitor’ typed on it neatly. 

A different staff member had ushered him to the room he was seeking and quietly left as the individual inside waved her off. 

The small chubby elderly latina woman sat in her arm rest chair and smiled kindly at Reaper.

“I knew you’d come today.” her voice was still strong and carried her thick accent proudly. 

“You look thin mi hijo.” the elder woman commented. Shakingly she got to her legs and hurried to her small kitchenette to grab the grim some snacks. 

Reaper took a seat at the small table she had in her room and awaited to be served. Scythe leapt from his shoulder and sat on the table eager for a treat he knew was coming. 

A pile of thumbprint cookies was set down in front of the duo along with a glass of milk. 

“There you are, eat eat!” the elderly woman petted Reaper’s head, leaning down she gave his temple a gentle kiss before waddling over to her own seat across from him. 

“How long has it been…” She hummed thoughtfully. 

“32 years.” Reaper quickly answered. 

She nodded thoughtfully. Letting the information settle in her mind before she chuckled. 

“Back when I wasn’t so grey…oh mi hijo you look so concerned que te pasa? What troubles you?” 

Reaper was never able to express emotions outwardly as mortals did. His being a grim, meant it never came naturally even after obtaining his soul. Despite it having been thousands of years he still was uncertain he’d ever truly master the art of ‘expressing oneself’ but regardless of how neutral his appearance. Aurora would always be able to read him. 

He enjoyed that about her. She made it easier to converse because she could assist in him understanding his own thoughts. It was the reason for his visit today.

With his bandaged hand he collected a cookie and handed it to his avian companion who eagerly accepted it. He watched the excited creature for a moment before finally answering. 

“I am….uncertain of that path I should take.” Aurora stared at him intently for a moment before sighing. 

“What has she done now?” The human was one of very few who’d learned of Reaper’s origins. The reason he was made, the path laid before him by La Muerte, their history and the reason behind his refusal to reap souls. She had a sinking feeling this situation was clearly related. 

“Your descendant has been chosen.” the woman’s eyes widened, fear blooming in her eyes. Her hands shook as she nearly sprang to her feet to attempt to reach the landline next to her bed. But Reaper’s hand gently rested over hers to stop her actions. 

“Not…her.” 

“Aye mi lado…” she sighed with mild relief but confusion was present on her face.

“I’m..uncertain of the details. To be fair I doubt she’s aware of it herself. But a copy of your granddaughter’s soul resides in and shares a body with the soul of a demon. It’s become so… entangled so different they’re no longer either one or the other. She’s something new.” 

This would be difficult for anyone to understand but likely even harder for the aging elder who shook her head in disbelief. 

“Is my Vicky ok?” She gripped Reaper’s hand, clearly distressed and requiring the assurance her granddaughter was fine. 

Reaper nodded, giving her hand a light squeeze. 

“She’s fine. She’s with her family now and this doesn’t concern her.” 

Aurora sighed with relief and nodded. “Ok..thank you mi hijo you know she’s the last one I have…” 

“...but how…” she shook her head. “Nevermind…what, what does..Aye no entiendo mi hijo, how does this…copy..aye dios….” It was clear she was still shaken as dark brown eyes started up at Reaper’s red goggles trying desperately to make sense of what he was telling her. 

“She calls herself Vertebrae. La Muerte wishes to utilize her in her desires, as she once seeked to use me. I have..attempted to stop the activity but that is why I am here. I am faced with…two paths neither of which I am certain I wish to take part in.” 

“...what do you mean?”

“No path chosen would lead to the results I desire. Both end up with the fruits of the tree of life in shambles. I do not wish to accept either fate. I wish to alter the course but….I fear I am unable…” 

Reaper fell silent. Aurora watched him carefully allowing her own fears to subside as she recognized the sorrow emitting from her long time friend. He’d already dealt with so much yet it seemed the universe would continue to send more his way. 

The only sound for a long breath was Scythe happily consuming his fill of the cookies she’s laid out. His chipped and cracked beak is a reminder of Reaper’s own mortality. Aurora stared at the marred corvid before finally speaking. 

“You can only do what you can mi hijo.” She squeezed his hand still held in her own to get him to look her in the eye. “We have to settle with what’s the best that can happen, maybe it doesn’t seem right for now but…in time..it can change.” Her words were not as encouraging as Reaper had been seeking but he listened all the same. 

“I’m uncertain if that’s possible.” 

“You’re not one to give up. Don’t do so now mi hijo, keep fighting, keep going.” Reaper pulled his hand free of hers and moved to remove his hood. Running his hand along his head as he contemplated the advice. 

“Is she that bad?” Aurora knew her granddaughter to be a bit…odd. She could only make a guess on how this Vertebrae, whatever she was, would act. Given how the grim reaper was acting it must be bad if not worse than she could imagine which greatly concerned her. 

“She’s…a challenge.” Reaper attempted to explain. “Fixated on resurrecting the dead.” 

Aurora shivered at the thought, clearly upset by the concept. But she paused and mulled it over for a moment. 

“...the dead should stay dead. But..the fruit. Maybe she can give that a home?” She suggested softly. To which Reaper nodded. 

“That was my intention but…I have a sinking feeling She will prevent any attempts.” 

A quiet lingered between the friends before the elderly woman again spoke up. 

“Could La Muerte truly say no to Life?” 

—-

Soon the sun was kissing the horizon, the blue clear spring sky shifting to a soft pink and yellow sunset. Reaper slowly rose to his feet, his visit coming to an end. 

Aurora hummed contently as she shakingly got up to walk Reaper to the door. 

“Believe in your goals mi hijo, you know I will. And take care of both those granddaughters of mine.” She smiled, although she couldn’t make heads or tails of the situation she had already quickly accepted Vertebrae as her own; it was simply a part of her nature. 

She looked back at her room before turning to watch as Scythe shifted to his blade form.  Reaper released Aurora’s hand as he moved to hold him. His free hand reached for the door. 

“I will attempt to do so.” The grim reassured his friend. 

“Will you be carrying me with you? Or perhaps put me in central park. You know how I loved it there. Oh or the garden where we first met! I believe it’s still there.” Aurora smiled tho her smile slowly faltered as Reaper opened the door. 

A dark cloaked figure stared back at them, Reaper gripped his scythe tightly upon seeing them and sighed softly. Looking down at his friend he gently shook his head. 

“...I’m sorry Aurora…” a hand waved at him off as she shook her head. 

“No..no mi hijo…shameful of me thinking you’d be the one to do this, you’re retired after all.” Despite her words, tears rolled down her eyes as she turned and slowly waddled back to her favorite chair. Quickly making peace with the situation at hand.

The other grim glared at Reaper before slowly following the elderly woman. The two clearly displeased with the other’s presence but Reaper had to respect this was not his territory and the other grim aged enough to accept the respect and not attack unprompted.

Stepping out of the room, Reaper quietly closed the door behind him. 

That character is Trust, I've only shown a few images of them ages ago on my art blog when they were a feral borzoi but they've since evolved to be humanoid and bare more of a resemblance to myself

this character always held a sort of 'god like' air to them, a creator a story teller

which I was always cautious about pursuing cause I felt...awkward?? making a deity like being based on myself. Like I know many folks have god modes or just straight up god sonas but I feared coming off as though I felt above god in a way?

But lately the more I've thought about it the more it made sense to make this character into a god

we're taught that humans are made in gods image after all and so when it comes to my own story telling and the worlds I've built and designed I guess it just sort of fits

even down to the process of evolution like most artists (not all) growing up the stuff I first drew? animals, just silly creatures, they didn't have names or stories or plots just silly beings I made for fun from there my art slowly evolved to have character, these creatures got names, some evolved into bipdeal anthros and soon my first stories started to crop up, developing more and more as I got older and then my stories changed to not only have animals but humans

reflections of my own self in my art reflections of a god's own self cause after all they tell us humanity was made in gods own image bits of god torn off and given their own sense of self, their own stories

stories entrusted to a deity to not only craft but to tell

which gives a reason for my sonas to have similar faces, similar names and carry similar lessons and themes in their stories stories dealing with loss, abandonment, betrayal, illness, loneliness, all things I've endured and try to heal from by having my characters overcome them or learn to live with them

all my stories are tragic but I mean ALL stories are inherently tragic, cause they end

and while I don't see Trust being a malevolent deity they are a truthful one, they don't hide the pain and sorrow. The only shelter from it is self earned and comes from learning to accept it and embrace the good parts of the story

Reaper dipped his cloth in the soapy water filled bucket next to him.

“One of my wives.” He stated plainly as he continued to scrub. 

“One of them?” Vertebrae hoisted up the skull from within the coffin she’d desecrated. Turning it in her muddy hand. She flicked a small beetle off the skull before handing it over to The Shade to transport it back to her collection. Continuing to rummage the grave to collect the remainder of the skeleton she called out.

 “Didn’t really picture you the type to get married.” 

Her roommate did not respond as he finished cleaning and rose to his feet wiping the excess water off his hand onto his worn trousers. 

Vertebrae popped her head back up.

“No offense or anything.” Though she knew the plague masked grim was never offended. 

“You just seem so…” She gestured at him with an ulna and radius she’d grabbed next. 

“...you. And it’s hard to think someone or multiple someones at that have managed to pull enough words outta you to even get you to say yes to marriage.” She laughed and after handing the bone off to The Shade.

“Did you even love them? Can you even love someone?” Vertebrae knelt back down and tore the fragile fabric off the torso of the skeleton she was disassembling. Her fingers delicately drummed along the ribs as she inspected them. 

“Is that mean to ask?” The jester questioned more so herself than her housemate as she finished collecting the remaining bones in the grave before hoisting herself out. She attempted to dust herself off though she mostly just smeared the mud already on body around. 

Lately the days had already begun to warm up. Melting the winter snow that was quick to soften the ground, the earth now was in a perfect state to dig but did leave behind a fair bit of mess. Spring was just a few weeks away it seemed. Perhaps this is why they were here to begin with as Reaper had begun to plant some fresh flowers he’d brought from his garden at the grave he was tending. 

“Why are you letting me collect these bones anyway? Isn’t it sacrilege to remove remains from a grave site or something? You said you lived in this village for centuries, yet you don’t seem to care much about your old friend’s remains.” The jester slinked over to her roommate the bells adorning her outfit, chiming joyfully with her movements. Sitting atop the grave Reaper just finished cleaning and she stared down at him curiously. 

From a nearby tree a flash of white and black flew out before landing on an arm that Vertebrae stretched out. Scythe’s sharp talons clung to her arm as he settled against her pale skin. His large red eyes pinning at her curiously. 

Reaper had not responded to any of her questions. 

“Would you even let me take hers?” red nails on the hand she was bracing against the headstone tapped loudly against it as she pondered the reaper who’s gaze stayed fixed on the task at hand. Once he finished redecorating the grave he looked up at her, the red goggles of his so thick it was impossible to see his true eyes behind them.

She’d never say it, but it often bothered her couldn’t see his eyes. Did he have eyes? She wondered what color they’d be if he did. 

“Take her if you wish. Bones are.” He got up as he began to gather his supplies, preparing to return home as his work was done. “...meaningless.” He completed as The Night assisted him in returning his supplies to his part of their shared home. A tilt of Reaper’s head and Scythe leapt off Vertebrae’s arm and onto his owner's shoulder.

Vertebrae’s nails scratched against the grey stone. Her expression hardened as she glared at Reaper’s back. He could feel her gaze and tilted his head back to look at her over his free shoulder. 

“To me.” He added which did seem to quickly lessen the jester’s rage at him. 

“That.” He pointed at a somber blue flower that was growing right next to the grave alongside the fresh new flowers. It was unique in that it seemed to emit light itself somehow, glowing faintly in the late evening light. Its petals were rounded and it had a skull shaped corona. 

“Is most important.” 

Vertebrae looked at the flower, its serrated leaves blowing softly in the cool breeze. She’d seen these types of flowers before; all shapes, colors and sizes. Many had taken residence near her collection, stubborn like weeds they grew out of wooden frames, along glass and even into solid stone walls, anywhere they desired. Vertebrae allowed them to grow simply for lack of care to bother removing them. After all she decorated her collection with flowers as well, what’s a couple more?

Reaper's affinity for gardening made sense why he cared more for the flower than the bones tho it did not answer her inquires much further than that.

She hummed thoughtfully as she lept off the grave, tagging along as Reaper entered the portal back to their castle. The Darkness dropped them off directly in Reaper’s garden where he quickly set right back to tending to various tasks. 

Vertebrae glanced around at the vast variety of plants thriving in the garden, some regular flowers, others unique specimen part creature part plant, some beautifully fragrant, some so deadly they could even kill gods. 

Her gaze returned to Reaper, who’s back faced her, as he tended to his plants with great care. Strong hands gently trimming leaves, repotting some clippings here and there, sunlight portals opening to shine on the greenery, water soaking into the soil that filled various pots. So much effort all so his plants could grow strong and beautifully.

A beat or two passed before Vertebrae spun around dramatically and headed toward the door. 

“I’ll be sorting my new pieces if you need me.” her voice sing-songy as she left. 

“Kitt, I have slaughtered an entire generation of people in a fit of rage and that includes children. There is practically a crypt beneath this castle of centuries old remains; everyone that once lived in this castle is down there in a tomb. My world is fractured and broken apart, overrun by crystal because of me and the demonic entity that mutated me into this.” He gestured to himself, rising out of his seat to tower over her.

He bent forwards slowly and placed both hands on each of the arm rests of her chair, as if trapping her where she sat. But no, he simply wanted to look into her eyes, make her understand. They had many conversations about this but none where he told her of his past crimes. It went beyond simply losing control and treating her like prey, or accidentally attacking her. He needed her to know of his past before they took their relationship further, he wanted to inform her now before someone else did, and potentially twisting the truth.

“My name is Sir Alexander Warrick, I used to be human, and served as a knight, a commander in my time long before your world was even a thought probably. I was the best knight this damn place ever had and my adoptive father chose his useless spawn over me to take over the crown. All because I was a little reckless with my methods. Methods that kept Xandora safe. So I set out to slay a creature that haunted these lands for centuries, it had a way with the beasts of this word and I challenged it, when I won, I was rewarded with THIS.”

He snarled standing up now and looking anything but calm and happy.

He was beginning to spiral, talking about his past like this. Tears began to seep from his eyes as he paced about the room.

“I lost my humanity, I lost my identity, and I lost my mind. I returned home and was no longer seen as human or family. They went after me like the very beasts I once slew, the wars I had led and won everyone turned on me…to I returned them to the earth. I had too. I had to kill everyone here and start over. I refused to let them take me down after all I’ve done for this place. That is why not a single human or any descendant is living here today….”

There were the beast folk though, and they accepted him due to him inadvertently liberating them, but Alexander was so consumed with the negative part of his story he didn’t even bother disclosing the postives.

“I need you to think about that, before you consider spending anymore time with me. It’s important that you know the monster I started out as. And I still am one. I always will be.”

"And what of it? Hieronymus can see and associate with whom ever they so choose. Everyone knows that we are in an open relationship." He growled, the kiseru in his mouth began to smoke with his rising temper before he spat it out fully.

Perhaps Alexander did feel some sort of jealousy at the revelry when he spied them and Teddy having such a good time cavorting and flirting about, but by the time it all ended he was too tired care and had put it out of his mind...until now. He advances on the grey-face and seizes them, pinning them to the grounds with an abnormally giant claw as he effortlessly phases to his secondary form.

"I AM A TRADITONAL DRAGON, I' AM A REAL FUCKING DRAGON. I CAN BE EVEN MORE SO IF I WANTED TO BUT THAT WOULD COST ME MY HOME AND MANY LIVES THAT I VALUE. I WILL NOT DESTROY ALL THAT TO PROVE ANYONE ANYTHING." He snarled. He was tired and fed up. He had a hangover, and he was in no mood for any of this nonsense.

For an uncomfortable moment he considered attempting the third and final phase he had, his claws digging into the soil where he still held the grey-face, threatening to expand into an even more monstrous looking hand, a more dragon-y looking one. It was very tempting in that moment of anger...but as soon as that moment of weakness came, he reeled himself back in, and reduced himself back to his normal form.

"GET. OUT."