#under(a)spell

Thank you for your attention on this matter. 🤣🤣🤣🤣

My submission for Sicktember: Day 23: Under a Spell

I'm sorry I couldn't do a better job or make any more submissions but it's been a rough week as I lost a family member. I hope this will suffice.

...

Soifon stared at the single blue petal on the floor between her hands, a single drop of blood resting on the tip. Her heart seemed to stop, her breath slowed. Sweat formed on her exposed skin and dripped down her body into her clothes.

"N...No...It can't be..." Her lips trembled. "Not again..."

But sure enough, Soifon felt a horrid sensation in her chest, like the fluttering of butterfly wings, she knew what was coming and her only comfort was knowing that she was alone. Putting her open palm to her mouth, she coughed violently. She felt a sickening tickling on her tongue as the petals were dislodged. Most of them fell into her palm but a few slipped through her fingers and fell to the floor. They were all just like the first petal, bright blue with some sporting specks of blood on them. It was only a few coughs but Soifon felt as if the whole ordeal had lasted an hour. Once it was over, she winced as the very act of breathing caused her lungs to ache. With her free hand, she wiped her lips free of any remaining blood and petals as she examined the ones in her hands.

"Why?" Soifon whined. "Why is this happening to me?"

With a angry grunt, Soifon crushed the petals in her hand. She forced herself to stand back up, which in her light-headed state, caused her to nearly fall over. Thankfully, her desk was right next to her and she was able to grab it to keep from falling. A few of the petal pieces slipped through her fingers as she caught herself but she took no notice. She picked herself up and walked toward the window, fighting through the aches and pains that had taken hold of her body. She opened the window and let the crushed petals out, watching as they were carried away by the night time breeze.

She felt herself start to shiver and closed the window. Despite this, the shivering didn't stop and her stomach became queasy. She groaned as she made her way back to her desk and opened the main drawer. Inside was a box of small pills certified by Squad 4, meant to provide temporary relief for aliments such as hers. She opened the box and popped two of them in her mouth swallowing them without the aid of water. She sighed as she sat down at her desk and waited for them to kick in.

"What's wrong with me?" She whispered. "Why is this happening? There has to be some sort of rational explanation but what could it be?"

Soifon found herself thinking back to the mission she had about a month ago, the one she had gone with Yoruichi Shihoin. The mission itself was simple in nature, to infiltrate a smuggling operation that had precured several precious treasures from many a lesser noble house. Mostly just statues and jewelry, things the thieves were hoping to sell to the highest bidder at an upcoming auction.

Said auction, of course, would never come to pass. Soifon and Yoruichi had seen to that.

Once the thieves had been dealt with, Soifon and the rest of Squad 2 were tasked with separating the pilfered heirlooms and returning them to their rightful owners. This, of course, meant moving them out of the warehouse they were being kept in and out into the Sun. Soifon recalled one of the last objects she had moved from there, one of the final items left inside at the time.

It was a mirror, one of those giant mirrors one could see their entire selves in. Its frame was decorated with the wooden cutouts of roses, their thorny stems "growing" around the frame and intertwining at the bottom. Strangely enough, the roses were all closed, not a single one of them seemed to be opened.

Soifon briefly wondered why someone would go through the trouble of creating such a beautiful mirror just to close the roses but quickly decided such a thing was not worth her contemplation, especially when she had a job to do. She looked around and noticed the last of her ninja leaving with another heavy object, a statue of some kind, which left her alone to take care of the mirror. This wouldn't be much of an issue for her as she was quite strong despite her petite visage. However, she still couldn't help but growl in annoyance.

Soifon stepped in front of the mirror and gripped its sides with both hands. The wooden stems poked into her hands but only enough to apply pressure to her skin rather than break it. This discomfort, added with the weight of the mirror, earned another grunt of annoyance for Soifon as she lifted the mirror a single inch off the ground.

"There! No if I can just-

Soifon happened to open her eyes as she spoke and in doing so, she found herself meeting the gaze of the reflection in the mirror. That wouldn't have been noteworthy if it was her own reflection starting back at her but it wasn't. Standing within the confines of the mirror, her body in the same embracing positsion as her former student and bodyguard, was Yoruichi.

"Lady Yoruichi!" Soifon gasped. "Oww!"

Suddenly, Soifon felt a sharp pain in her palm and let go of the mirror. It started to lean backward and most definitely would have shattered upon the ground if Soifon hadn't caught it on the other side. That same spark of pain coursed through her other hand and Soifon gritted her teeth as she grabbed the other side of the mirror and gently laid it flat against the ground.

Once it was safe, she examined her throbbing hands. Both of them had a single hole punctured into the palm, almost like stigmata. Blood leaked from these holes and trickles down to her elbows. Soifon squeezed her palms to apply pressure and stop the bleeding then grabbed some of the bandages she carried with her for emergencies and wrapped it around hands. The bandages became soaked in no time at all but they seemed to halt the bleeding nonetheless and as she waited for the pain to go away, Soifon reexamined the mirror.

For the most part, it looked the same but as her gaze lowered, Soifon noticed the thorns on either side of the frame now coated in dried blood. There was one for each side and they seemed sharper, more sleeker than the rest of their wooden brethren.

"What...the hell?" Soifon whispered right as she felt a familiar presence enter the room.

"Soifon, you okay in here?" Yoruichi asked.

"Oh! Um...I-I'm fine!" Soifon lied. "I was just getting this mirror out of here"

"Mirror huh?" Yoruichi walked over to the mirror and whistled. "Looks like the Mirror of Mokoto Hanahaki. It belongs to the Sakura house. They provide the ninjas that serve the Kuchiki clan."

"I see." Soifon uttered.

Yoruichi turned to see the bloodied bandages on Soifon's hands. "Soifon! Your hands!"

"What?" Soifon looked down at her hands and, with a slight blush, quickly hid them behind herself. "Oh I-I just cut myself on the thorns on the frame. It's nothing really."

"Cut yourself?" Yoruichi looked back to the mirror. "That's strange."

"What do you mean?"

"The thorns on the frame were carved just short of actually getting sharp." Yoruichi explained. "They shouldn't be able to cut into anything." She walked over to the front of the mirror and placed her fingers beneath. "Well, just to be safe, let's pick it up this way."

"R-Right, Lady Yoruichi!" Soifon nodded before repeating the same action. The two women were able to lift the mirror with ease and, on Yoruichi's command, Soifon back-tracked toward the exit. As they were crossing the threshold, Soifon noticed something else about the mirror, something she found too strange to point out.

The roses on the top of the frame were now in full bloom.

And with that memory, Soifon found herself back inside her room. Her stomach was still aching and her throat felt dry. She felt thirsty but knew that drinking water would only serve to reactivate her pain. "That mirror...." She muttered to herself. "That mirror had to have something to do with this. After all, I only started coughing up petals after that day." Her throat ached and she gripped it slightly, deciding to render all her words to mere thoughts.

"But how can that be? How could a simple mirror cause me to be coughing up flower petals? It...It's almost like some kind of curse right out of a child's fairy tale. But that's ridiculous! There's some strange things in Soul Society but there's no such thing as curses...right?"

Soifon rubbed her head and slowly made her way back to bed. She still felt sore all over but the very act of laying down on her futon seemed to grant her some relief, even as her chest ached with every breath. "Tomorrow, I will visit Captain Unohana and see what she has to say about this." She muttered. "I'd rather not let anyone know about this but I have to find out what's causing it if I'm to get rid of it."

After the monsters emerged from the mountain, human society had become cagey with its use of magic. They seemed to hope the monsters would come crawling for their help, that they could dangle it over their heads, that this weaker species would need their power as a crutch while building their new life up here.

When the monsters proved they had more than enough magic of their own with which to thrive, there were some humans who decided the would-be crutch could be used like a club to beat them down.

The snowball pelted at Papyrus could have come across as a playful act, if it hadn’t been packed tightly with icy, shimmering crystalline shards. Despite the sting of impact and the human’s spiteful sneer, Papyrus was willing to smile and shake it off.

Since then, however, he couldn’t stop shaking.

Skeletons didn’t usually feel the cold, not like this, and yet here was Papyrus layered in three sweaters, curled up in a ball under all of the extra blankets from the hall closet, shivering with such force that the couch springs squeaked and rattled with him. Sans conversely was sweating bullets, jacket and shirt abandoned with the fire roaring in the hearth and the heater on full blast.

“Alright, just ran some towels through the dryer,” he reported, tucking them around Papyrus’ neck and chest before testing a palm against his forehead. “Stars, you’re still an ice cube!”

“D-Don’t you mean a…P-Pap-sicle…?” his brother slurred with a breathy attempt at a laugh that bordered dangerously on a sob.

Of course, there are always literal interpretations. In fantasy, witches, wizards, and other magical beings cast many spells/charms/curses.

Harry Potter comes to mind- when Ron's slug-vomiting charm/curse (Slugulus Eructo) backfires and he ends up being the one to suffer the effects.

In fantasy games, you often see status effect spells. The spell reduces the health bar on the targeted character, sometimes temporarily, sometimes it lasts until the character can do something to regain their health- it depends on the game.

But, not everyone is into writing fantasy. And maybe a literal spell isn't a good fit for your fandom/character. That's okay too!

Similar to the 'medieval treatment' prompt, hyperbole is also an option!

Sickie: I feel awful. Are we sure your mother didn't cast a spell on me at dinner last night? I saw her mumbling to herself while she was making my plate. And we both know she hates me.

Caregiver: I'm sorry. Did you just imply my mother is a witch?

Sickie: yes? no? no. I think my answer here is supposed to be no.

For somewhat of a stretch, A spell of illness can be defined as an episode of sickness with a precise start and end. The term is sometimes used when monitoring or documenting disease.

And if none of these clarifications/suggestions are your jam- you can always swap it out for an Alt Prompt!

Presidential alert: the gnomes are fighting.

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Of Destiny & Dragoones is a fantasy-adventure comic about a band of hapless misfits thrown together to overcome the curse of an evil archmage and (ideally) save the city. They’re heroes, honest. Tune in for magic, fight scenes, bad language, badass adventurers, and found family. New pages every Wednesday!

I drew a picture of Danny falling under a spell.