I Dream of Disney (Volume II)

Possession is Nine-Tenths of the Law [Bill Cipher x Reader] Part V

Part V - The Exorcism

The ceramic pot was small. The once-bold fuchsia colour now faded to a dull undertone. It was insignificant in size and appearance - but the still-smouldering sticks of incense embedded in its core had refreshed it with new power. Beneath the dimmed lights of the mystic shop, plumes of blue-white smoke billowed from the incense burner. Gleaming like raw dragon's breath, the smoke pervaded the air with the cleansing scent of white sage, lavender and juniper. 

(Y/n) found it difficult to breathe but swallowed her discomfort, with a gasped lungful of outside air, and navigated through the shop. 

The conflicting fragrances didn't come from a single incense burner, she was quick to discover. Around the room, wooden stands and concealed pots held the crumbling sticks of fragrance. No windows were open, but the incense smoke constantly shifted. Surging upward until it had formed a delicate untouchable ripple of smoke shaped like a peacock feather. Sometimes, (Y/n) thought she saw something more to the shapes. Fierce, sharp eyes like a predator's. Hollowed, regal cheekbones. Pale faces. (Y/n) shook her head, hoping that it was just her imagination. 

The murky herbal smell changed to smooth, über-sweet vanilla as (Y/n) approached the candles. Watching carefully where she stepped, she avoided crunching the squat candles sprouting from the floor like toadstools. It was also important to watch her head because dangling tufts of dreamcatcher feathers tickled her forehead as she strode toward where she hoped the cashier desk would be. It took about three wrong turns before she heard the splashing and trickling of a water fountain which lead her to the desk. 

At that point, (Y/n)'s head had started to feel a little dizzy as she breathed in incense smoke for the umpteenth time. She couldn't tell what particular scent it was supposed to be but she knew that it was harsh on her lungs, but it had a softer herbal fragrance. . . Her head went fuzzy as if the thoughts were being sucked away, turned into the smoke that coiled in gentle waftures. Suddenly, she felt warm and gooey on the inside, allowing the press of happiness as she breathed a quiet sigh.  All of that stress that had been building up, egging her on to explode into undisturbed chaos, floated away with the jasmine incense.

"We don't sell cigarettes," Declared a stiff voice, "btw." 

The voice came from behind the table where a teenage girl, probably fifteen or sixteen years old, was bent over the counter reading a tabloid magazine. Long, dark hair hung loosely over the shoulders of the Vietnamese girl as she flicked over the page, not paying attention to anything happening around her. The only thing that seemed to interest the teen were the new neon highlights among the dark locks: fusion pink, juniper green and electric blue. When she was younger, she was probably called "cute" because of her heart-shaped face, but not anymore. The dark eyeshadow surrounding her eyes made her seem fierce, indomitable. 

"Uh. Hi there," (Y/n) greeted awkwardly, "I - urhm - I don't have an appointment." 

The girl behind the cashier cackled. It must have been the funniest thing that she had heard all day because she slapped the magazine closed and straightened in the office chair.

"Does this look like the place that has appointments, sweetheart?" The girl rolled her eyes. 

(Y/n) replied weakly, "Maybe?" 

This time, the Vietnamese girl did look at (Y/n). The effect of the dyed hair, dark makeup and fair features combined to form a fierce, striking effect when the girl stared at (Y/n) straight-on. She looked like a fairy princess - well, if a fairy princess wore fishnet gloves, a cherry red leather jacket and a Rolling Stones t-shirt. 

"The name's Nguyet but my friends call me Ettie," Nguyet informed. 

"(Y/n)," She said politely, "Nice to meet you, Ettie."