By all means, Kurt is a fearsome figure, sometimes, Kurt does not need to put a show to scare others, in fact, even with his civilian outfit, the people of this small city still look in fear and respect of Kurt. In another occasion, Kurt would bask in the attention.
But today is a special day, competition is hard to find these days(mostly because of his own hand, but, either way, is rare) the mayor is approaching Kurt as one approaches a lion(if someone is treating you to explode your head if you don´t do it) and gives a faux sense of bravado to himself as he speaks to Kurt...pretending they are equal.
"You´re the Necromancer, what are you doing in my city?" the mayor inquires and Kurt pretends to not heard, is always fun to see people squeeze in fear, but, if the man becomes too much like gelatine...then he´s useless.
"I´m looking for a woman. The witch of this city, the one witch that can petrify cities, turn people into animals, and, of course, necromancy" he flashes a smile illustrating his fangs and people can get the hint of his message(fear him, that´s all they can do)
"That woman...is dead" someone shuts tiredly and gains Kurt´s attention. A woman wearing a black dress and a pointy hat, with a grumpy owl on her should is unphased by Kurt´s appearance "people of this city is far too afraid to tell you, but, the witch is dead, that nasty Dorothy did take her down by throwing water"
Kurt is bemused. "That was before or after Dorothy starts singing, Somewhere over the rainbow?" His eyes are golden and no pupil and the woman is thinking of all the cats she witnesses in her long life.
The mood is tense and no one dares to speak, the smarter ones, starts to leave normally to not gain the attention of the Necromancer of the witch. The woman´s laugh is enough to break the mood and she speaks again, at easy and fearless "Oh, you do know the story! that´s interesting, I´ve heard you´re the worst detective ever...now, as for the witch...we have many witches here, any description? it may help" the corner of her mouth lift slight and Kurt has no time to flirt.
"She´s a witch too powerful, in fact, she managed to kill Kilgrave" Kurt explained and Kitty yawns bored. "Look, if the greatest realization this witch of yours ever done is killing pathetic trash...maybe you should look for another witch, now, Guten tag, guten herr" and saches away leaving the Necromancer behind. No crown left.
Kitty Pryde strolls in the market, wanting nothing more than buying fruits to her friends(Lockheed completely rejects the term pet) and her owl is flying around causing havoc as the little bird is searching for his own little treats.
"Oh, Lockheed, did you find it?" the Owl shakes off and the spell is over as his feather open space to scales and the little dragon is more than ready to start eating the little treats.
The owner bides Kitty farewell as the woman is back to her house. Lockheed asked about the stranger, the necromancer and Kitty is not minding his presence here.
"A necromancer? Is not something new here! Oh no, my friend, we have a far important job, we've got a date, remember, yes, with Mr Castle" Kitty replies and Lockheed seems to remember now, yet, still focus on eating the treats "silly dragon!"
Frank Castle likes pretty woman, that´s in her nature, especially one like Kitty Pryde, destruction and power(occasionally justice) turns him on, so, when the woman with her tight black dress and red painted lips offers him a nice night, Frank is one of those men, said yes in a heartbeat.
Now, Frank will have a heartbeat for his. The man is tied up, gag and is not played as something erotic. Kitty finally enters the room, with a dagger in her hands and a seductive smile.
"Rest assure, Frank Castle, a hero you´ll be...in death" Kitty promised smiling as now, her eyes change colour, it´s the incorporation of all colours in one, black as the void, black as the universe. "Oh, Crawling God of Chaos, I give you this creature to sacrifice, please, I´d fulfil my deal with you" and Stuck the dagger on his heart.
Thich drops of blood start to fall from the improvised bed, yet, it never manages to drop on the floor as a shadow with one eye emerges and devour the body in one go. The entity smiles at Kitty, a smile that speaks anything and nothing and vanishes.
No signal of tentacles. Kitty assured to herself. And I´m looking to the city still on the same spot where it supposed to be.
A clap of hands emerges and the Necromancer appears impressed by the show. "Bravo, that was fantastic, I never thought I would you would cut to enter in his cult, but, hey...I´m not HIM, what I know?"
Kitty got pale and orders Lockheed to attack, which the dragon is more than pleased to do so, however, Kurt only tsk and summon his gargoyles who did make her dragon more occupied.
"So, you´re the wich! Fascinating" Kurt answers and Kitty only frowns. "I just killed a guy...that should freak you out...even more, because I sacrifice for HIM"
Kurt waves his hand. "Oh, please, I did have my share of killing, but, I want to talk with you, how powerful you´re?"
"Enough to blow you up...but it will blow up my house, and I´d hate to building a new house, so, necromancer...can we all just forget this happen and follow our merry lives?"
"NO! You sacrifice humans to HIM, you are powerful enough to kill Kilgrave...and you want to stay in your house, why?"
"Netflix and chill" she replied and the gargoyles and Lockheed are still fighting(it resembles how dogs would greet each other)
As always, shoutout to my boo @jules-fraser for the incredible moodboard!
Response to the @thelallybrochlibrary ‘Queerlander’ prompt #13: Claire has a relationship with a female nurse during the War. This is the final chapter.
Chapter 1: Bedside Manners | Chapter 2: The Telegram | Chapter 3: What We Did in the Dark | Chapter 4: Explosions
Explosions
JULY 1945
Our field hospital had been shelled twice since my transfer her in Caen. It was quite a terrifying thing, to feel the shaking of the earth, the explosions.
There was a rush to get to the victims, to find them, to help. But there was little that could be done when the side of a building collapsed on a man or woman. Helpless; it was often the feeling after these attacks. I would be glad when this bloody war was over and done with — if it ever was.
By sheer luck, Emily had been transferred with me to the field hospital. We were inseparable, growing closer day by day. I truly loved her and my feelings for her were getting in the way of what I felt for Frank. This was 1945… there would be no easy way to go about this, telling my husband I was in love with a woman.
As I rounded the corner I saw Emily walking towards me and smiled. She passed by me and her fingers brushed against my thigh, the smallest touch that sent my heart fluttering.
Beauchamp, get a grip. Emily often sent chills over my body, the mere thought of having her underneath me to do with as I pleased was enough to almost send me over the edge.
What could we do? Run away together, leave the war behind? Leave Frank behind?
It was a possibility but not likely.
I received a letter from Frank just last week, no location as usual. A simple letter filled with “I miss you”, “I love you”, “Hope to see you soon”. Whenever I read it, sitting on my cot, my stomach dropped, the guilt of what me and Emily had been doing overwhelming me. I couldn’t bear to be apart from her, my closest friend, my lover.
Walking into the tent set up as our makeshift hospital, I heard it. The tell-tale sound of planes overhead. Shrieks came from around me and I barely had time to cover my head before the first shell dropped.
BOOM
The earth vibrated. The sky was filled with dust and smoke. My ears were ringing as I covered them with my hands. I needed to get up and help but my equilibrium was off. Dear God, the blood.
Just fifteen metres in front of me, there was a man who’d been pushed back from the blast, his body spilling with blood on the ground. He was dead and I knew it, there would be no saving him.
My eyes found the next closest sign of trouble. I walked over rubble and tried to peer through the dust that was still swirling. There were cries of pain everywhere and almost impossible to tell where they were coming from. I heard a man shouting for help and followed his voice. Finding him, I observed that he wasn’t the one in need of help but he was trying to lift the back end of a war truck off of someone.
“I can’t help you lift that but I’ll find people who can!” I shouted and ran to get help. I found a few men nearby who were digging through the rubble and took them with me back to the man near the truck.
“On my count… 1…2…3!” The men grunted, their hands under the end of the truck to lift. I bent down on my knees and reached for whoever was under the truck. My hand touched cold skin, that wasn’t a good sign. With the help of another nurse nearby we managed to drag the person from the truck’s death grip.
My hands searched the body, roaming and looking for signs where they needed my healing most. As my hands moved up his body to his face, I heard a scream and only realised that it had come from me when I felt a hand touch my back.
Frank.
My husband, crushed under the car. Silent sobs wracked my body as I fell on top of him, trying to shield him from more harm.
“Frank!” I screamed once again and hands tried to peel me off of him but I wouldn’t budge. I knew he was dead. When I had touched his hand before, he was ice cold. There was no telling if we had come to him sooner, if he could’ve been saved. I dared a glance at his body, to really look at the damage. It was then that I saw he had no legs. Crushed.
I needed to help people that were still alive but I couldn’t leave him, Frank was gone. What was he even doing here? Was he looking for me?
“Miss,” someone said to me, “you need to move, if there’s a second blast then you’ll be killed too.” I knew their concern was meant well.
“I can’t! I’m not leaving him.” I cried, my body still covering his.
“Suit yourself, miss.” The man reluctantly left me there, hovering over my husbands cold dead body.
I must have sat there for hours, my legs went numb from sitting in this position so long. The only reason I moved was because other soldiers were coming through the blast to collect the bodies of the dead. I held Frank’s cold hand as they took him away on a cot. He looked almost peaceful.
“You can’t go with us, miss.” The solider said, “If he’s your husband then his body will be sent back to you but we have to collect all the dead.”
At the word ‘dead’, I crumbled to the ground once more. With a ‘I’m sorry, miss’, the soldier took my husband away in a truck filled with other’s that were dead like him.
“Claire?”
I looked up through wet eyes to see Emily, her skirt covered in brown dust and blood that I hoped wasn’t hers.
“What happened?” She asked, bending down to sit next to me on the ground.
“Frank.” I choked, my hand covering my mouth as another sob came out.
“Oh God. Claire.” She pulled me into her and I leaned against her. I felt guilt once again as I felt myself relax into her, the touch of her calming me and reassuring me that everything would be alright.
“I don’t even know what he was doing here,” I wiped my hand across my face, “did he know I was here?”
“I don’t know, Claire.” She smoothed back the damp curls from my face, “I don’t know”
After a little while, I knew I couldn’t neglect my responsibilities any longer, even faced with my husband’s death, there was destruction surrounding me that I couldn’t ignore, even had I wanted to.
DECEMBER 1946
Sitting by a roaring fire, memories of one of the worst days flooded back to me. The day I discovered Frank’s body among the rubble of that last explosion. The fire beside me couldn’t help the chills that crawled over my body.
“You alright, darling?” Emily touched my thigh, her hand warming the skin there.
I nodded and smiled, “Yes. Just memories… of that day.”
“I have those too, almost like flashbacks.” It happened often, to be fine and living your life and then suddenly you were transported back, amongst the chaos.
“I’m glad to be here with you though, even though I’ll always miss Frank terribly.” I said next to her, meeting her gaze.
“It’s a terrible thing… what happened,” she replied, her hand moving up my leg, “but I would like to think that we were brought together to endure this.”
“I would like to think that too, Em.” I smiled, now remembering the end of the war. The streets were filled with cheers as the announcement that it was over spread. I found Emily as quickly as I could. She was looking for me too.
I had pulled her aside into the darkness of a nearby alley and pressed my mouth to hers. Silent tears had filled our eyes as we kissed. Pain from all those we had lost, joy of being free from this war.
From that day on we had been together. Run away, somewhere deep in the Highlands of Scotland to finally be alone.
Ashamed was what I should feel as Emily’s hand moved further and slid in between my thighs. But I didn’t. Loved was what I felt.
I leaned back on the couch, staring first out the window at the gentle snow falling outside our little cottage and then back to look at Emily. She kissed me as her fingers slid into me, making me remember the reason why I could be happy now. Our love wast not a casualty of war.
