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slippinmickeys · 2 years ago

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Three Part Harmony (8/?)

When they finally pulled up to the cabin — after a long and bumpy trek down a muddy, rutted driveway that wound through a hemlock grove choked with cedar — Mulder was beyond gassed, pushed to the limit of what he could endure. Shock, trauma, joy, distress. The gamut of human emotion, and nothing but highway hypnosis with which to ruminate on them all. Beside him, Scully dozed with her head resting gently against the glass of the passenger door, the white of her bandage just peeking out from between clumps of dark hair.

Between his eyes, in the very spot where — in his partner — a malignant growth had once threatened her life, a throbbing pain began to emanate; an aggregation of emotion, exhaustion, the swirling miasma of stress hormones on a brain forced into sustained fight-or-flight. He sighed and reached forward to switch off the radio, though the silence did nothing to alleviate the ache. Ducking his head to look up through the windshield, he peered at the building before him. SAFE , the waitress had written. He certainly hoped she was right.

The cabin was an A-frame, the hard planes of its roof slanting down almost to the ground, its ridge cap sharp and straight as an inverted knife. It was painted a dark gray with navy trim around the doors and eaves, and the front of the building was a near solid mass of both square and triangular windows crisscrossed with support beams. Reflecting the lights of the car for a moment as Mulder turned, it looked, he thought, like a brigantine tall ship with all of its sails unfurled. The light shone on it and then was past, the house sinking back into the murk of the trees that surrounded it.

He pulled over onto a cramped area of leveled dirt just to the side of the house and killed the engine. He glanced into the backseat at the sleeping baby, the boy’s face slack, a bit of drool wetting his ample lower lip. Mulder had, while on the run — before Scully had joined him — launched himself into the future during moments of downtime, and imagined a life in which the three of them existed; unhunted, unafraid, unruffled by the problems of the present, of the past. He would picture the most mundane of scenarios: the three of them sitting down to breakfast, how the boy's face might screw up while trying to throw a fastball, the way Scully’s voice would sound calling William in for dinner. It never went further than that — simple acts of domesticity — but the act alone kept him level, kept him sane, ground at the edges of his despair so that they were dulled, not sharp enough to prick him. Not sharp enough to draw blood.

“Scully,” he whispered.

She roused with a sharp inhale and blinked several times as she sat up, a look of confusion passing over her face as she fought to reconcile her surroundings with what they had been only the day before. She probably was hoping she’d wake to find it had all been a bad dream.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice still low. She nodded, and after a brief hesitation, brought her hand up to the back of her neck.

A flash of worry arced across his mind before he could turn it away. “Scully?” he said again.

“Anesthetic wore off,” she explained, giving him a small reassuring smile. “It’s just a little sore.”

He reached over and took her hand, giving it a squeeze. She returned the gesture and glanced briefly back at a still sleeping William before turning her gaze up through the windows of the car and to the cabin beyond them.

“This is it?” she asked, looking at the house assessingly.

“Yeah,” Mulder said. He had plucked the map the waitress had given them from Scully’s fingers as soon as she’d succumbed to sleep, flicking on the dome light for a moment every few miles to check their progress. There was nothing else around for miles.

“Sorry I fell asleep on you,” she apologized, her eyes falling to the worn, scrawled-upon sheet that now sat slightly rumpled in Mulder’s lap. “I was supposed to navigate.”

He waved a dismissive hand. “It’s fine.”

She looked back at the cabin. “There’s no one else here?” she asked.

“Doesn’t look like it,” Mulder replied, turning to look at the house, too.

It sat, dark and stolid, beneath the canopy of dripping trees, though now that the car’s headlights were off, Mulder could see the faintest lambency from inside it, a soft penumbra of light glowing from a back room, as though someone had lit a hearthfire. It was a welcoming light, he thought. Honeyed and warm.

“I suppose one of us should go check it out,” Mulder sighed. He was run through with exhaustion and worn raw with nerves, but he leaned over Scully to open the glove compartment where they’d stashed the three guns. He grabbed the Glock, the closest one to hand, when Scully put a hand on his arm.

“Let me,” she said. “I’ve at least gotten a bit of rest today.”

Scully could, quite enviably, drop to sleep without the slightest provocation, and after the day they’d had, he couldn’t blame her in the slightest. Mulder imagined how rough he must look, eyes bloodshot and bleary, and handed over the weapon without a word. He would stay in the car with William.

Scully expertly checked the clip and the action, and finding it up to snuff, opened the door to the car and stepped out into the night. Mulder let his head fall back against the headrest, listening to the engine click and knock as it began to cool. Just as he felt himself drifting off, Scully was back, smelling woodsy, her breath curling up in twisting tendrils of steam.

“Seems okay,” she said, when she opened the door. She tucked the Glock into the back of her pants and ducked into the open passenger door to better talk to him. “There’s a lamp on in a back bedroom. Couldn’t see much beyond that. But there’s no movement.”

Mulder was aware – with that big bank of windows in the front – that the second they turned on the lights in the house, anyone outside of it would easily be able to see in. Not that there was anyone around.

He nodded. “You try the door?”

“It’s unlocked,” she nodded back. “I did a cursory check. I’ll do another when we get in. There’s no one there.” If she was certain, so was he.

Mulder rubbed a hand over his eyes. “Did you happen to see a bed?”

Scully looked at him with a sympathetic look.

“Come on, Mulder,” she said, “I’ll get William.”

Mulder didn’t even fight her, just unfolded himself from the car and reached in to grab a random selection of Walmart bags from the back. Scully unlocked the car seat and awkwardly maneuvered it into the front. She then pulled down the glove compartment and grabbed the other two pistols. Before Mulder could figure out what she was doing, she had walked over to him and tucked the Smith & Wesson into the waistband of his pants, leaning in to speak in a low tone. “Safety’s on,” she said, and then made her way back to the car to grab the car seat. “We’re right behind you.”

Mulder led the way through what there was of a yard, which was mainly gritty dirt overlaid with a damp layer of pine needles and last year’s leaves. They squelched over to the porch and up the waterlogged wood of the steps to the side of the house where he found a stark white storm door and a sodden welcome mat inlaid with flowers and words he couldn’t make out.

“It’s open,” Scully said again from behind him, and he pulled open the flimsy outer door and wiped his feet on the mat without even realizing he’d done so.

The main door stuck ever so slightly when he pushed on it, but he shouldered his way through and was surprised to be met with warm, dry air suffused with the faintest hit of potpourri. He dropped the bags near the wall and took the baby from Scully, who edged past him with her gun at low ready.

“Gonna do a quick walk-through,” she said, and he nodded, setting the snoozing child on the floor so he could shut and lock the door.

The area through which they entered opened into an open concept living room and kitchen, with a big fireplace at the center of the room that was studded with fat fieldstone masonry that went up two floors and disappeared into the ceiling. Past the kitchen, there was a single hallway that led to the back of the cabin, which Scully walked down a moment later.

“Think we’re clear,” she said, dropping the gun down to hang at her side.

“What’s the layout?” Mulder asked.

“Two small bedrooms and a bathroom through here,” she nodded toward the hallway. “I think there may be a loft up there.” At this, she tilted her head to a low wall that ran along the main room’s ceiling and ended at the chimney. She looked around a moment and found the stairs on the far side of the fireplace, reappearing a few moments later. “Another bed and a small bathroom,” she said, finally tucking her pistol into the back of her pants.

“Point me toward a bed and give me a shove,” he said wearily and she obliged, giving him a gentle push in the direction of the hallway. He plodded down it as though walking through molasses, each step feeling like more work than the last. Finally, he stumbled through a doorway, not even noticing which bedroom he’d entered, and fell, face-first, onto the small double bed he found there, which gave a plaintive creak. He considered toeing off his shoes, closed his eyes and knew nothing.

He awoke with a start, a hand squeezing his arm and a whispered voice in his ear.

“Mulder, there’s someone coming.”

He roused himself to consciousness with difficulty, his head feeling like it was filled with cotton batting. He could feel the hard nose of the pistol still tucked into his waistband, and his feet, still in the steel-toed boots he’d put on that morning, were half asleep. It was dark outside, and the lamp in the neighboring room shone dully down the hallway. When he stood, he could see headlights approaching through distant trees past the large windows at the front of the house.

He rose to his feet and got his bearings, sidestepped William who was still sleeping in his car seat next to Scully’s side of the bed and stalked down the hallway and to the front of the house, Scully right on his heels. The windows, as he approached them, leaked a frosty chill, as the air might sigh from a cellar.

“What do you think?” Scully asked, pressing herself to his side, peering out the glass of the sliding doors along the front of the house and into the night. There were headlights bouncing down the rutted driveway, getting close, and both he and Scully instinctively ducked down as they were briefly illuminated by the lights as they panned across the building. The car turned to back in next to their Grand Prix and parked, sitting for a moment with the engine idling and the lights still on. Scully had her gun out, and she was obviously asking if Mulder thought that the men in black had managed to find them.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Something tells me They don’t drive a Datsun.”

A moment later, the waitress from the diner emerged from the driver's side and crossed over behind the car – a waft of pinkish exhaust shimmering around her, reflecting the red haze of the taillights and making her appear, however briefly, like a saint in a religious painting. She disappeared a second later behind the raised deck lid of the trunk. Mulder glanced at Scully and watched as she moved the gun from one hand and into her other.

Then the trunk closed, and the waitress was awkwardly carrying two brown paper grocery bags, stumbling a little under their weight in the double-cone of light from her car.

As the woman approached the steps, Mulder moved to the entryway of the cabin and pulled open the front door for her, pushing at the outer storm door with more force than necessary, which clacked into the side of the building with a concussive thwack!

The waitress jumped back in surprise, breathing hard, and would have probably clutched a hand to her chest if they hadn’t been full.

“Hi,” Mulder said awkwardly, then stepped forward onto the porch. “Can I help you with those?”

“Hi,” she replied, fumbling a bit with one of the bags which Mulder took from her. “Thank you,” she said, following him into the house.

He closed the door behind her as she moved into the space, dropping the bag she still carried heavily onto the kitchen counter which was made of thick butcher’s block and scarred from use.

“I’m sorry,” he said, setting the other bag gently down beside it. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

She heaved a sigh and leaned against the countertop. “Not your fault. I’m,” she swallowed heavily. “I’m jumpier than a virgin on her wedding night.”

Beside him, Scully surreptitiously tucked her weapon into her pants and pulled her shirt down over the handle.

The woman was still dressed in her work uniform, a short sleeved white button-down shirt with a red polyester skirt. She had the shape of an hourglass and wore hose that creased a bit around thick ankles before disappearing into sensible black shoes. She still wore an apron, and a name tag that was a little droopy.

“Rhonda?” Mulder asked, dipping his head toward the woman and holding out a tentative hand to shake.

“Oh! My manners!” the woman said, wiping her hands onto her apron before reaching out to shake Mulder’s hand.

“Steve,” he said, shooting a quick look at Scully.

“I’m Lisa,” his partner said, reaching forward and taking Rhonda’s hand. “And please don’t trouble yourself over etiquette. You’ve invited perfect strangers into your home. We’re incredibly grateful.”

The woman waved a hand dismissively. “It’s not my home,” she said. “This place belonged to my uncle. He used to come out here to fish. It’s mine now. A little rustic, I admit. I use it when I need to get away. You’re welcome here. Don’t you give it another thought.”

Mulder’s eyes were pulled toward the headlights of the car that was still idling in the drive.

“Do you want me to go turn off your car?” he asked.

“Oh, please,” the woman said, and he didn’t wait for another word, just trotted out the door and down the steps so he could covertly check out the woman’s car.

He swung into the driver’s seat and looked around, as if orienting himself. There was an extra apron with five or six pens sticking out of the pocket folded neatly in the passenger seat and an empty coffee cup with a small half moon of lipstick around the lid in the cup holder. The rest of the car was neat as a pin. He turned off the headlights and turned the keys in the ignition, looking at the house once before tilting down her glove box and peeking inside. There was a battered owners manual, a couple of pieces of loose paper; the car’s registration and insurance information, and a small flashlight. The name on the registration was Rhonda Fitzsimmons. He closed everything back up the way he found it and pulled the keys, exiting the car and walking back through the night. The woman seemed to be who she appeared.

When he walked back into the house, Rhonda was just asking Scully a question.

“Where’s the little one?”

Mulder saw Scully stiffen, but she answered politely enough. “He’s asleep.”

As he approached them both, he held out the keys, handing them to Rhonda, which earned him a smile of thanks. Mulder gave his partner an All Clear nod and watched as Scully leaned against the counter opposite Rhonda, mirroring her stance. She looked as tired as Mulder felt.

“I have to ask,” he said. “How did you know we needed help? How did you know about the men in the diner?”

Rhonda sucked on her teeth for a moment, scrutinizing him. Finally, she ran her fingernails along the countertop in a horse-like cadence and said:

“Well,” her soft lilting accent making the word sound like ��whale.’ “I didn’t like the way they looked and Shandricka didn’t like the way they felt.”

“How do you mean?” Mulder asked.

“That smile,” Rhonda shuddered. “It was off. Too big, you know? Capital gums, lowercase teeth.”

Mulder had to suppress an almost hysterical urge to laugh. “And…How did they feel?”

“Like they’d steal the sugar out of a cake, Ricka said.”

“But you gave us that map before those men even came in,” Scully said, narrowing her eyes. “I never even saw them.”

“Y’all were scared,” the woman narrowed her eyes back at Scully. “Y’all are scared.” She turned her eyes to Mulder. “I know from scared.” She said this last phrase with a lift of her chin. With the look of someone who’d swum through a river of adversity and came out the other side. “And when they came in, well… I’m just glad you’re here. I followed them, you know.”

The tired look on Scully’s face disappeared.

“What do you mean you followed them?”

“Those men. After they left the diner. Ricka took over my shift and I followed them. A ways back, they never saw me, don’t you worry. They went out Route 30. Pulled into old Doc Shepherd's place and gawped around like they’d lost their keys. I’d bet twenty bucks they’re still sittin’ in that parking lot hollering at each other,” she said. Then she added, almost confidentially, “I wouldn’t know cause I kept driving on past.”

“You’re sure no one followed you?” Scully asked.

“I’m certain,” Rhonda said with enough authority that Mulder didn’t hesitate to take her at her word.

“Doc Shepherd,” he said, gleaning an idea. “What kind of doctor is he?”

“Doc Shepherd is a she,” Rhonda said. “A veterinarian.”

Not long after that, Rhonda had insisted that they get some sleep. She’d be staying in the loft, she said, and would be up late reading. She assured them that she was a light sleeper and could hear anything from up in the loft – that the acoustics of the house funneled sound right to her and she’d know the minute anyone entered the valley, much less the house.

Mulder and Scully, overcome with exhaustion, capitulated.

They shuffled into the bedroom, William on the floor close to where Scully’s head would rest. The room was dark but for the light coming in from the hallway, vaguely illuminating knotty pine walls, amateur paintings of woodland scenes, antique furniture too small to be of much use. They each pulled out their guns, hiding them under the pillows, and Scully hid the third one in the small bedside cabinet. She kicked off her shoes and pants, pulled her shirt over her head, and slid into the small bed in just her undershirt and panties. Mulder closed the bedroom door softly, and, feeling like he needed to be ready to leap into action at a moment's notice, took off only his shirt and toed off his boots, getting into the bed in the tatty jeans he’d been wearing all day. Normally, Scully would have clocked the infraction and complained loudly, but tonight, she held her peace.

The bed was narrow, small, and his feet hung off the end. Nevertheless, it felt cozy and calm with Scully close at hand, the warmth of her seeping into his side. Outside, he could hear the wind pushing through the branches of the trees, and just beyond the hallway he heard Rhonda puttering around, opening and closing cupboards, putting away groceries. Beside him, he swore he could hear the beat of Scully’s heart and the soft, elfin sounds of William’s whistling breath.

Scully reached over and grabbed his hand, squeezing it. After a moment, a thought occurred to him, and he reached deep into his pocket.

“Sit up,” he whispered.

“What?”

“Sit up,” he said again softly, and Scully obeyed, looking at him curiously.

He pulled out the soft gold chain and held it up in between fingers and thumbs, the tiny cross sliding down to sway gently from its middle.

Understanding dawning on her, Scully bowed her head. Without a word, he slipped the chain around her neck and fastened the hook, bending forward to press a long, soft kiss to the skin just below her bandage.

Then they each eased back, the bed softly creaking and rustling under them, and slid into the horse latitudes of the night where everything went quiet and still.

#the x-files #fanfic #my fic #msr #wip #on the run #family fic #without fluff

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earthfluuke · 4 years ago

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like a drum my heart never stops beating (for you)

summary: when you’re gifted, you’re family. or -- happy moments we don’t get to see, because the show producers are a bunch of meanies who want to see us suffer.

novemeber 10 brought two amazing people into this world. alexa - @sunsetskyline - and rahul - @gaysarawat - i wish you only the very best of birthdays! may this next year in your lives bring you nothing but love and happiness! i wanted to give you both something for your special days, so i hope that this fic will suffice! i got a bit carried away, and it’s way longer than i intended for it to be. but something tells me the two of you won’t mind.

this exists in a happy universe where supot doesn’t exist, and pom has been in charge of the gifted program ever since he became a teacher. i also had to come up with a few codenames for the characters that didn’t have them, so i hope the ones i came up with are good!

title comes from gone, gone, gone by phillip phillips.

my reasoning for why there are eight parts is because pang is in class eight. do not come for me please, it’s 4 in the morning when i’m finishing this.

i. teach & constellation

Falling face first into the comforter, Pom lets out a long, held in groan. He will never say that he hates his job, because it would just be untrue. Every day brings something new; every student is one he adores. Watching them grow into better versions of themselves is something he will never tire of. The comparison between where they start at the beginning of the year and where they end up brings him immense joy.

But as much as he can say that being a teacher is one of his greatest prides, he can also admit that some days, it exhausts him. Long class periods are followed by one-on-one sessions, and in between, he makes sure all of his students are well fed, properly hydrated, and – most importantly – mentally healthy. That alone is difficult. Add on the fact that they all have beyond human potentials, and Pom’s fatigue becomes much more reasonable.

A hand cards through his hair, gently breaking the coif he has gelled back. Bangs now drooping into his eyes, he leans into the hand, the feeling of fingertips scratching his scalp lulling him a bit. Before he can drift off completely, a voice – half amused, half fond – asks, “Long day?”

“Long week,” he corrects, finally allowing his chin to tilt up to look at his husband. He’s already changed for the evening, his night clothes clashing against the slacks and button-down Pom has yet to take off; the most he’s done is loosen his tie at the door and let it fall to the floor on his trek towards the bed. “The end of the semester is always the busiest. Final evaluations and all that.”

Chanon hums sympathetically, brushing some of his stray bangs behind his ear. “I can handle dinner for the rest of the semester then. Can’t have you overworking yourself any more than you already are.”

“My savior,” he teases, but he’s genuinely grateful for the offer.

Lips tilting up at the edges, Chanon smiles. “What can I say? My husband deserves a break. He’s always caring so much for everyone else; I’ve got to make sure he’s being taken care of too.”

It’s Pom’s turn to smile, and while he’s been looking at Chanon the entire while, he then really looks at him. The front of his hair swoops across his forehead while the back is tussled from where it has been leant against the pillow. He’s in a pair of fraying sweatpants and a t-shirt adorned with a space pun that he’d have to explain for Pom to understand. Resting on his nose are a pair of circular glasses. They’re not the same ones from high school; those had worn out two years into university. But they are similar enough to give Pom a sense of nostalgia. For as much as they’ve grown and aged, Chanon is same chubby cheeked and deeply telescope obsessed Chanon from high school. He is the Chanon that Pom fell in love with; he’s the Chanon that he is still stupidly, ridiculously, earnestly in love with.

Pushing himself farther up on the bed, he settles his head against Chanon’s thigh. The fingers in his hair do not hesitate to adjust to the new position, and it causes Pom to sag further into him.

“We can eat in a bit,” he murmurs, curling his legs up so that they don’t hang off the edge of the bed. “Let me just lay here for a while.”

He cannot see Chanon smile, but he can hear it in his voice when he says, “Whatever you want.” It’s a simple statement, seeing as the thing he desires most is right beside him.

ii. magician & lonely

Korn is truly an enigma, and Ohm is so far from cracking whatever code he’s programed with. He seemingly enjoys to keep to himself, but people can only enjoy that so much, right? Everyone wants company from time to time, and if it is his mission to make sure Korn knows that he’s as much a part of this odd little family as anyone else, then he will gladly fulfill it.

But it’s more difficult than he planned for. Currently sat in an empty classroom, he’s flipping through the photos on his camera, and Ohm would have been convinced that he’s ignoring him, if not for the one headphone pulled away from his ear to rest farther back on his head. For the better part of half an hour, he has been listing off suggestions for their class’s weekly dinner night with no avail. Every option he gives is met with a low hum and nothing else.

He may have a reputation for being a bit airheaded, but he notices much more than people give him credit for. Punn keeps the scarf that Claire used to wear around her shoulders in his bag to hold on to when he feels stressed. Jack and Jo don’t quite mind being referred to as ‘the twins,’ but when called by their names, there are slight flickers just beyond their eyes. And for as slick as Pang and Wave think they’re being, he is more than aware of their roof top rendezvous. They are all little things that apply to each of his classmates, supposedly useless knowledge that Ohm finds more than important (because they are all important to him).

So as much as Korn goes off to be on his own, Ohm still knows enough. Like that he tends to favor Japanese food over anything else. It’s why he’s slipped in the new sushi restaurant that opened not long ago at least a dozen times. It’s easy bait to get Korn to talk and yet, nothing.

Deciding enough is enough, he slides off the stool he’s been sulking on to stand right beside him. He pouts deeper and deeper until Korn finally looks to him out of the corner of his eye, brow raised. “Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks.

“Because you won’t pick anything!” he whines. “I’ve suggested every restaurant inside the city limits, and you don’t like any of them!”

“It’s not that I don’t like them,” he amends. “It’s just that I don’t particularly care which one we order from. I’m really not that picky.”

“But the rest of us always choose. I want you to!” Grabbing hold of his arm, he bops the top of his head against his shoulder, nuzzling into. “Pretty, pretty please? We use Khu Pom’s credit card, so the price doesn’t even matter! Whatever you want, we’ll get!”

For a moment, Korn is silent, and Ohm is afraid he’ll have to throw in the towel and try another time. But then he feels him swallow thickly and softly say, “Whatever you want to get. That’s what I want.”

“Korn! I already said, we always choose what we get–”

“Not what the rest of them want,” he says. “What you want.”

Straightening quickly, he tries to catch his eye, but Korn has already tugged the stray headphone over his bare ear and pulled his camera closer to his face to block Ohm from his line of sight. He figures that it’s as much of an answer as he’s going to get out of him, and though he doesn’t quite understand, he takes his word. He can try again another time, but for now, he has a sushi order to place.

iii. bodyguard & angel

“I think this is a bit much, don’t you?” Namtaan says, tightening her arms around Mon’s neck. Her feet hang at her side, swinging back and forth as she’s carried piggyback style through the hallways and towards the dorm building. “Just because I don’t have your potential doesn’t mean I’m completely incapable of exercising.”

Earlier that day, she approached her girlfriend with the request of teaching her self-defense. The interest hadn’t sparked from any specific situation; she had only supposed that it was a useful skill to have. And with Mon’s proficiency in athletics, she seemed like the perfect person to ask. She wasn’t an easy opponent, but Namtaan hadn’t expected her to be. Practicing with someone who can out-fight anyone she may ever encounter will make her more than prepared.

What she failed to remember was that as soon as Mon stopped being her sparring partner, she went right back to being her girlfriend, and honestly, Namtaan isn’t quite sure which one is worse. After seeing her panting on the practice mats, she’d rushed over with a towel – careful to wipe off her sweat on a separate one first – and a water bottle. That was more than enough to tide her over but for Mon, not so much. And thus, she ended up on her back.

“But you do have high blood pressure,” Mon reminds her as she turns a corner. The sun is setting, shining bright as it hangs low in the sky. Namtaan has to duck her head into Mon’s shoulder so that she’s not blinded. “So I’m pretty sure a bit of caution is warranted.”

“Exercise actually helps with high blood pressure,” she points out. “So your argument is completely inaccurate. Want to give me another reason as to why I’m not currently walking on my own?”

Clinging to her when she hoists her higher up on her back, she feels like she’s falling before Mon has her arms hooked under her legs once more. It’s an entirely intentional move that has her kicking her girlfriend’s hips. Her only acknowledgement of it is a breathy laugh that tells Namtaan that she’s smiling and the quip of, “Maybe I just wanted carry my girlfriend around. What good is my potential if I can’t use it on what’s most important?”

Stunned into silence, Namtaan can do nothing more than bury further into where Mon’s neck meets her shoulder, pink cheeks completely hidden. The two of them are not often overt with affection in public settings, but their relationship is still new enough for her to be caught off guard with spontaneous bits of mush and gush. She has yet to find a good way to react to it, so for now, hiding is the best option she has.

“Next time I want to practice, I’m asking Punn,” she mumbles against her skin. Mon laughs, and she kicks her hips again, harder this time.

iv. idol and babies

It’s nice to know how everyone feels in any given situation. It leaves little room for confusion or possible hostilities that arise from deeply repressed emotions. But regardless of how useful her potential may be, Claire tends to keep other people’s privacy as just that.

There are times when the colors are too vibrant to ignore, and they manage to spill into her peripherals even when she isn’t utilizing her potential. And well, curiosity killed the cat after all; she takes a peek, just a small one. But even then, she keeps what only she can see to herself.

But then there are rarities where she can’t not involve herself, though it’s always for a good cause, trust her. Usually, it’s only when one of her classmates goes blue, and the littlest gesture of a drink left on their desk or snacks dropped off outside their door rooms suffices to draw a bit of yellow around them.

She says usually, but…she’s never been able to turn down helping someone who’s pink.

It doesn’t happen very often. Wave has slowly but surely grown from a soft rose to a bright fuchsia, but any advice she has attempted to offer him is met with fierce denial. She can’t comprehend why, seeing as even Ohm has caught on to his and Pang’s terribly hidden secret. Though she likes getting under his skin, they are far from the enemies they were in their first year, so a few light, jabbing teases is all she gives him. Mon and Namtaan are the only two, besides herself and Punn, who have their acts together, so she has nothing to worry about there. And Korn…that’s another conversation entirely.

It’s when she thinks that her romance expertise is no longer needed that she catches a pink glow coming from across the canteen. She hasn’t gotten to talk much to the younger gifted students much, what with the third years focusing on their potentials individually rather than in a group setting. But she knows their names, and more than anything, she knows when someone has a crush.

Her gaze lands on a girl – Grace, she remembers – sitting with her hands curled beneath her chin, and if anyone else were to look at her, they would think she’s staring off aimlessly. Claire, however, follows her line of sight to land on a girl at a table a few away from the one she’s sitting at. She’s talking a mile a minute, hands flying in front of her face for emphasis. When she turns back to Grace, she finds the faintest of smiles creeping its way to her lips. That, she thinks, is what has her moving.

Sitting in the empty space beside her, she doesn’t hesitate before speaking, low enough for only the two of them to hear, “Are you just going to keep staring, or will you actually go and talk to her?”

Grace flinches, head whipping towards her. Eyes wide, she stammers for a reply, “P’Claire–”

“Nothing will come from watching from afar,” she continues. “Believe me, I’m speaking from personal experience. You’ll never have a chance if you don’t even try.”

Swallowing, Grace dares a quick glance back to the girl. She sinks a bit in her seat, whispering, “And what if I do and still nothing comes of it?”

“Then you get to move on. But between you and me,” she brushes a piece of her wavy hair behind her ear and smiles, “I think things will turn out just fine. Trust me when I say that not knowing is much worse than any reaction she may have.”

It only takes another glance to the girl and a bite to her bottom lip before Grace is slowly getting up and approaching the girl. She gives her a bright grin and moves a seat over to make room for her at the table.

Claire’s heart swells. Just as she suspected, Grace has very little to worry about. And now that she’s settled that, she can deal with the dual pink bodies across the table. Third and Time have been bickering back and forth since she’d sat down, but what can she say? She’s always loved a challenge.

v. class eight kid & wizard

Wave can’t remember how he ended up crowded against the wall in one of the school’s stairways, but it’s the position he’s in. And from the looks of it, he’s not leaving it any time soon.

Pang has one hand resting on the wall beside his head, and he’s smiling at him like that. It’s infuriating, but even more so, it’s absolutely heart stopping. One of the sides of his mouth is raised just slightly higher than the other, and he’s looking directly into Wave’s eyes like they hold the answer to the universe. He can feel the glare he’s sending him softening by the second.

“We were supposed to meet up with the others ten minutes ago,” he reminds him, if only to break Pang’s gaze. He should know better; Pang is as stubborn as they come, and when his mind is set on something, it’s near impossible to stray it.

The one side of his mouth raises even higher, and he dares to lean in a bit closer. Wave’s head, already pressed flat against the wall, tilts up, trying to put more space between them. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Pang, far from it. Rather, he doesn’t know if he trusts himself. He’s meant to be the rational one between the two of them, and when he’s encroaching into his personal space, he finds it hard to not let himself be the careless one.

“That means we’re already late. What’s a few more minutes going to do?” It’s a test, Wave is sure. He’s never failed one of those, and he’s not going to start because of some reckless kid from Class Eight.

He’s annoying on the best of days; he gets on Wave’s last nerves on the worst. He’s stupidly slow at times, doesn’t comprehend the most basic of mathematics, cannot button a shirt to save his life, and yet, Wave is hopelessly attracted to him, flaws included. He wouldn’t be Pang without them.

He isn’t quite sure what Pang sees in him, and perhaps he never will. All that matters is that he sees something. Though he won’t admit it (not yet), he feels lucky for it. The way Pang’s eyes hang heavy and half lidded as his free hand plays with his fingers is enough to make him shout it out loud and have it echo around the school for everyone to hear. Instead, he does the only other thing he thinks to.

Gripping the hand that already has his, Wave pulls him the rest of the way in until there’s no space left between them. Kissing is new, and he’s not sure if he’s very good at it. But it’s a nice feeling, it’s Pang, and it’s enough.

Short, simple, and sweet is the best way to describe it. They’re at risk of someone finding them, and more so, it’s enough for Wave to slip away. Flustering his boyfriend is a game he can play just as well as Pang, and as he walks down the hall, hands shoved triumphantly in his pockets, he knows he’s won this round.

“Fifteen minutes,” he calls over his shoulder. “Ohm is going to get antsy and come looking for us. Better hurry and come up with an excuse before we get to the room.”

Quick footsteps patter behind him, and an arm slings around his shoulders as they walk together. Irritating, thick-skulled, and thoughtless does not begin to describe Pang. But understanding, kind, and all kinds of wonderful more than does.

vi. class eight kid, magician & angel

“Namtaan,” Ohm whines, drawing out her name as he drapes himself over her bed. He, along with Pang, have taken refuge in her room, looking for something to do. Unfortunately for them, she’s a bit too preoccupied for whatever they’re needy for this time around. “I can’t believe you’re abandoning us for Mon tonight. We had plans!”

“You had plans,” she corrects, uncapping a tube of mascara and brushing the wand through her lashes. “And you failed to tell me about said plans. So if you’d like to put blame on anyone, put it on yourself.” Eyes flickering away from her reflection in the mirror to look at Pang’s, she asks, “You’re not going to complain?”

Pang shrugs with a grin. “I’m just here, because Ohm dragged me along. I told him you’d probably be busy, but he said you’d never be too busy for us.”

“She wasn’t before she got a girlfriend!” Flipping onto his back, Ohm spreads his arms out wide, kicking his feet in a childish huff. “We watched movies! Had game nights! Now you’re off to dinner with Mon while we have to stay here alone!”

“We can still do all of those things another time,” she assures him, unable to hold back a thoughtful smile. As dramatic as he is, she’s still stupidly fond of him. “And you won’t be alone. You have each other for company.”

Ohm rolls his eyes. “Oh, please. You and I both know that as soon as Wave is done with his homework, Pang is going to ditch me for him.”

Pang lets out an exasperated noise. “What? I will not!”

“Sure you won’t. You’re telling me you haven’t already texted him to tell you when he’s done?”

“…you could come with me?”

“Absolutely not!”

Namtaan leaves them to bicker as she slips into the bathroom to change. Her level of primping is nowhere near Claire’s, but she enjoys looking nice, specifically on date nights. What shame is there in wanting to dress up a bit for her girlfriend?

Even so, it’s nothing far out of her comfort zone: a simple, floral dress with her favorite light blue cardigan. Turning around, she looks over her shoulder into the mirror, spinning a bit to see the end of the dress flutter about her knees. It’s nice, she thinks, to feel pretty sometimes.

Stepping back into the bedroom, she’s met by the boys’ argument, but it’s cut off by the time she shuts the bathroom door. The two of them are staring at her, slow blinks the only movements in their faces. She can’t remember a time either of them have been struck speechless, and she looks down at her outfit for a moment with concern. She understands it’s not her typical dress, but surely it isn’t different enough to garner this reaction.

Fingers curling into where the sleeves of her cardigan rest over her palms, she’s about to question them, but Ohm beats her to it. “Namtaan!” he exclaims. “You look so pretty!”

It’s her turn to blink, because whatever she expects the reasoning for their silence to be, this is not it. But their mouths are quickly breaking into excited smiles, and they’re looking at her like she’s the most amazing thing they’ve ever seen.

“How come you’ve never worn anything like this before?” Ohm asks, hanging over the end of her bed to get a closer look.

“I guess I’ve never had a reason to?” she answers. It’s never been something she’s thought about. More often than not, she’s in her school uniform, and if for some reason she isn’t, nothing she does warrants this level of dress. “I’ve never seen you in a suit or anything like that either, Ohm.”

“That would be fun though, wouldn’t it? If we all got dressed up really fancy?” His cheeks look as though they’re about to burst with how far the edges of his lips push into them. “It’s just…you look really pretty, Namtaan.”

She turns to Pang. He’s only the slightest bit more sensible, but he’s less likely to have the blinding positivity that Ohm does. He only nods in agreement. “You really do.”

This is so far from what she’s used to that she isn’t sure how to respond. It only takes one more look at them – the two impulsive yet caring boys she somehow got stuck with during her first year and never found reason to stray from – for her to return their smiles. They’re dense at times, don’t always think things through, but more than anything, they’re hers and that’s what matters most.

vii. idol, master & lonely

Ever since the gifted dorms had been split by boys and girls instead of provided on an individual basis, Korn has found it more and more difficult to find places to be alone. He can only stay in the classrooms for so long, and even those aren’t always empty. Their secret hideout is rarely vacant, more often than not littered with multiple of his classmates. Before, he’d at least had his dorm for solitude, but now, he doesn’t even have that.

Rationally, he knows that this should be good for him. Keeping to himself as much as he does isn’t healthy, and there are more than enough opportunities for him to spend time with the rest of the gifted kids, seeing as they tend to travel in somewhat of a pack. But jumping head first into the freezing cold water that is social interaction after going so long without it isn’t easy. He’s trying, truly, but sometimes, he needs some seclusion.

Mon is the safest space he has. She understands him in a way the others never will. Their potentials come with side effects that have had them wishing they were born without them on more than one occasion, and during those down times, they find comfort in each other.

It’s what has him stalking to the girls’ dorm room. With multiple nights without a wink of sleep, he feels himself slowly reaching the breaking point he’s talked himself away from too many times to count. If he’s lucky, he’ll catch Mon there alone. And if she’s not, she’ll know him enough to follow him to somewhere private.

The door is slightly cracked open, so he knocks once before sticking his head in. Instead of Mon, he finds the very last thing he wants to. Punn is propped up against the pillows on one of the bottom bunks, flipping through the pages of a book. Leaning against his side, Claire scrolls through her phone, glancing up at the sound of someone entering. She smiles at him, and it’s just too much.

Turning on his heel, he goes for the door, mumbling an apology under his breath. A frantic “Korn, wait!” is called after him, and a hand grabs his wrist. The grip is deliberate, and he knows by the way Claire’s fingertips go white beneath the pink polish on her nails that she won’t let him go without a fight.

He faces her, planting both feet firmly to show that he isn’t going to run. Even still, she won’t release him. Sighing, he asks, “What do you want, Claire?” Over her shoulder, he sees that they’ve captured Punn’s attention. He’s staring at him with a look to his eyes that Korn can’t quite decipher, but the last thing he wants to do is upset Claire enough to get him involved. So he softens his tone and says, “I was looking for Mon.”

“She just left with Namtaan,” Claire says. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t stay! We’re not really doing much, and it’s been so long we’ve talked.” There is desperation in her voice as well as in her eyes, and it pulls at a string of his heart that he thinks has always belonged to her. “Please, Korn?”

It’s then that he realizes that she’s wearing her glasses. It’s not a sight he sees very often, but it’s familiar and makes him feel warm. He doesn’t harbor any romantic feelings for her anymore; he’d gotten over those long, long ago. This is purely platonic, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t intense. This is the Claire – the Medfai – that he’s known since they were tripping over their shoelaces and sneaking bits of their lunches underneath their desks. A simple of pair of glasses reminds him of a far simpler time before potentials and gifted programs and multiple sleepless nights in a row. He so badly wants to cling to it, and he’s almost calls himself selfish until he remembers that this is something that Claire is offering.

“If you’re sure,” he says, as though he’s giving her one last chance to pull away.

“I am,” she assures. She sounds as though she’s holding back her excitement until he shuts the door and ventures further into the room.

Ultimately, it’s Punn that has him moving. “She’s not going to stop asking until you agree,” he says. He’s gone back to his book, and he casually flips a page before looking to Korn again. “It’s much easier to go along with whatever she wants. We both know that.”

We, not I. It’s the first time he can recall Punn acknowledging that he knows and cares for Claire as much as he does; it’s the first time ever that he doesn’t feel guilty for intruding on what he’s convinced himself isn’t a place he’s wanted.

“Okay.” Somehow, a single word brings her so much joy, and she’s tugging him towards her bed. He sits on the end, making sure there’s enough room between them, because there are still boundaries he’s not quite ready to break. But even with the space between them, he feels closer to anyone than he has in a very long time.

“So,” Claire chirps. Legs crossed in front of her, she’s leaning against her ankles and angling towards him. “Tell me what’s going on between you and Ohm.”

Groaning, he lets his head fall back against the wooden paneling around the edges of the bed. Claire is laughing, and he can hear Punn joining her. He would say he’s already regretting his decision, but he can’t; not when he finally feels like he’s starting to belong.

viii. teach & class xv

Pom has no reason to believe that this Tuesday will be different than any other, but he is sorely mistaken. Lesson plans tucked beneath his arm, he opens the door to his classroom and is met with a loud popping sound and a spray of multi colored confetti. Surprised enough to take a step back, he looks beyond the doorway and into the rest of the classroom.

The walls are draped in streamers, and there’s a long banner that reads ‘Thank You!!’ across the front board. On his desk is a tray of cupcakes in varying levels of proper decorations. Every desk has a bottled beverage atop it, and there’s one held out for him by Korn. He takes it, albeit slowly, and lets the door shut behind him.

This isn’t a special day, because he would have known if it was. He has every one of his students’ birthdays marked in the calendar in his office, and the little box for today’s date was empty when he last checked it. It isn’t his birthday either, so he’s at a loss for just what they’re meant to be celebrating.

“Want to explain to me what’s going on?” he asks as he reaches the front of the room. He places his things down, and the kids all take their seats, smiles still plastered across all of their faces. “I wasn’t aware there was something worth celebrating.”

“Of course there is!” Ohm says, because of course it’s him. “It’s the last week of the semester!”

“Ah,” he nods, their actions beginning to make more sense. “Prebreak excitement then? You do know that you still have your final evaluations, right?”

“We know,” Claire says. She points to her protective sunglasses, and even behind them, Pom can see her affectionate eyeroll. “We’ve been practicing nonstop on top of studying for our normal exams.”

“But that’s not why we’re celebrating,” Wave adds.

“We only have one semester left here,” Pang continues. “One semester left of the gifted program. And one semester left with you.”

“You’ve done so much for us over the past three years,” Namtaan finishes for them. “You’ve helped us with much more than our potentials, and I think I speak for all of us when I say that we’re very grateful that we got to have you as a teacher.”

The entire class nods in unison, and it takes a good few blinks to clear the tears from his eyes. It feels like yesterday that he told Chanon that he wanted to be a teacher. Classes have come and gone, and somehow another is almost out the door. He doesn’t pick favorites; he loves all of the kids he’s had and will love all the ones he will ever have in the future equally. But that doesn’t stop the special pocket in his heart that has tucked itself away for these ten kids.

He won’t break down, not until he’s in the confines of his apartment, and he has his husband’s chest to hide in. For now, he returns their smiles with one of his own and pretends it’s not a bit wobbly at the edges.

“And I’m just as grateful to have had all of you as my students,” he says. He hopes they don’t catch the shake in his voice, but if they do, they don’t make mention of it. “Now, come on, these cupcakes aren’t going to eat themselves. Maybe they’ll sweeten the fact that I have the order for all of your individual examination times.”

A chorus of groans echoes through the room as they all file to get their hands on a cupcake. He watches them all, and in each of them, he sees how much they’ve grown from the first day he met them. He never forgets a student, and he sees no reason that this batch will be any different.

#the gifted #the gifted the series #the gifted graduation #the gifted: graduation #tgg #my writing #there is so much to unpack here #there are so many pairings #so many friendships we haven't gotten to see #and a bunch of stuff the fan base has made up on their own #did i add ohmkorn just for rahul?#of course i did #how could i not?#i hope it was happy and fluffy enough to make up for all the insanity tgg is giving us #okay seriously it's 4 am i need to sleep #but happy birthday to you both!

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tardytothepardy · 3 years ago

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My Review of "A Court of Silver Flames" (because it's too long for Goodreads)

~`,Spoiler-free summary/review idk,`~

In "A Court of Silver Flames", the story centers around two characters that were previously in the "A Court of Thorns and Roses" series, Cassian and Nesta. As far as I can tell, this story takes place about a year after "A Court of Frost and Starlight", where Nesta is in a bad mental state. To cope with the events in "A Court of War and Ruin", she has taken to excessive drinking and sleeping with random people. The members of the Inner Court allowed her to do this for a while, but as the book begins, it is made clear that they won't let her do that anymore. It is decided that she will be taken to the House of Wind, along with Cassian and Azriel, so she can be separated from everything and heal. The reasoning behind putting Nesta in the House of Wind is that the only ways anyone can easily go to or leave the house is by flying or winnowing, neither of which are things she can do. There is a set of 10,000 stairs that she can take, but seeing as they are 10,000 stairs, it's pretty difficult.

Throughout the story, Nesta is forced to come to terms with her difficult memories and her powers, which she has pushed away in an effort to retain as much of her prior humanity as she can. It is soon revealed that her powers are connected to three ancient magical items, collectively called the "Dread Trove", and Nesta is tasked to find as many as she can to keep Briallyn, one of the human queens, who has a similar connection to the items, from obtaining them and wielding powers that could completely destroy the world.

While all of this is going on, it is revealed that Feyre is pregnant. It isn't all happy news, however, because it seems that complications (of the deadly variety) have become known, and no one knows what to do to save her (let alone herself because she's not even aware of it hooray Rice Hand you're doing fabulously).

I think as a whole, one thing that this book struggled with is pacing. For the majority of the book, I didn't feel that the characters were actively trying to stop The Bad Guys, it almost felt that they took action every so often, as if they randomly remembered that these events are happening. Most of the book is focused on the development of the relationship between Cassian and Nesta, and everything else falls around that, which would be fine if the other events were of a smaller scale, like planning a party or something (idk lmao), rather than the fate of literally the <i>entire world</i>, both the Fae and human world. A lot of the things that happened in this book seemed like they were resolved within the last 50 pages of the book, one after another, it just felt odd.

(spoilers for the entire book below the "keep reading"!)

~`,Spoilers from here on out,`~

So like I said in the beginning, it starts with Nesta in her house. It's from Cassian's point of view, so I got to endure two things that really fucking irritated me: first was where she was living. It was a similar line of thought from the "ACOFAS" description, that Velaris doesn't have slums, but if it did have a slum, Nesta would be living in it. But it doesn't have slums, but this place is still icky. Cassian acknowledges that he's stayed in worse, but this place is still icky, yucky, blecky, and gross. Second thing that irritated me was when he first saw her. He describes her as having "long bare legs, an elegant sweep of hips, tapered waist--too damn thin--and full, inviting breasts that were at odds with the new, sharp angles of her body" (10). She was thin, very thin, but not her boobs. Nope, those badonks were still (somehow) plenty large. This might be the fault of me trying to understand Fae bodies by comparing them to human bodies, but I simply do not understand how that is supposed to work. Boobs are made of fats and tissues, if you're losing weight, you're gonna lose boob. Whatever.

Cassian proceeds to take Nesta to one of (apparently 5. Rice Hand and Feyre have five houses, why) Feyre's houses, where it is soon made clear that an intervention is being staged. This has to be one of the worse ones out there, because oh my fucking god everyone is so goddamn hostile towards Nesta. Amren and Nesta were previously friendly, then they had an unresolved (and unexplained) falling out, and now holy shit Amren is constantly baiting Nesta, making snide remarks. Rice Hand seems to be offended by Nesta simply because she doesn't like him or Feyre, like I don't get why he's so aggressive towards her (and that shit continues for the majority of the book it's so annoying), but somehow everyone there is surprised when Nesta is aggressive, that she throws insults, that she's rude.

Anyway, after Nesta is toted to the House, she instantly tries to find a way out, and that's when the 10,000 stairs come in. (Tangent, in the book it says that the stairs are about a foot tall each. 10,000, 1 foot tall stairs. That would mean the House of Wind is at least 10,000ft tall, but seeing as the House has multiple levels, it's even taller than that. This building is so goddamn tall, did Maas even think about that? It's nonsensical! Anyway) She tries to go down them, but she fails miserably. She's underweight, I wouldn't be surprised if she's malnourished, she's in no state to climb down 10,000 stairs.

So that's where the training comes in. Cassian takes her to Windhaven, an Illyrian camp (place thing idk), to train, but she just refuses. After 3 days of her not doing anything, Cassian is ready to throw in the towel (I thought,,, I would think that since he's had to discipline out-of-line soldiers before he'd do better than 3 fucking days but whatever), but then he remembers what she's said about it all three of those times, that she's not gonna do it in front of everyone (because if you didn't remember, the Illyrians are massively sexist and so of course no one has anything better to do than gather round to see some random woman attempt to train but whatever), so he just has her train within the House. One top of the House, it seems. I don't know how big this House is supposed to be, but the roof at least would have to be huge to allow for multiple people to train and work out, spaced out evenly, and not be at risk for falling off. But he has her train there, issue resolved.

What is this training, you may ask? It's just basic stuff, like stretching, balance, strength training, and eventually grappling with so much sexual tension you can barely see your hand in front of your face (it's like a fog as far as I'm concerned), casual stuff.

Along with this training, Nesta is also assigned to work in the library, which is also a sort of refuge or something for a bunch of priestesses who have survived various forms of abuse or assault. It's one big safe space that also has old ass books. Sounds great. She has to work there for six hours, I believe, everyday, along with the training, and at the library she meets someone named Gwyn. Gwyn is a priestess, she's been there for a little while (it doesn't actually say how long, now that I think about it) and fun fact, she's a quarter river nymph. The person she works under is shown using that fact as an insult, but only once, because then Nesta lets her eyes go silver, which freaks them out, and then Gwyn doesn't have to deal with it anymore.

Speaking of silver eyeballs, let's talk about her powers. What are they, how do they work? What are the limits of her powers, etc.? It's not really stated, beyond vague stuff of her powers being derived from something ancient, before the Fae's time, and that she's really powerful. At one point in the book when Rice Hand had to go into her mind (she was having night terrors), he described her powers as "pure death". On one occasion as she was trying to go down the 10,000 steps (which is a recurring thing throughout the whole book), she fell partway down and when she caught herself, she saw that she somehow burned her handprint into the stone. At another point when she's a good way into her training, she's punching something and it is later shown that she again burned through the wood (it was a piece of wood wrapped in cloth which sounds like an absolute delight to punch for a sustained period of time), but somehow the burn mark was cold? Much later in the book she literally un-alives someone, like she didn't kill them, she regressed their age so much that they were un-alive. (She basically hit the "undo" button on their life) Additionally, since her powers that she got from the Cauldron have connected her to the "Dread Trove" items, she is able to find them very easily and use them without issue. With all this information, it's still not clear as to what the limits to her power are. I suppose she is the limitation, because she could choose to use her power to gather the items of the "Dread Trove" and use them to manipulate worlds and time and fucking death itself, but she doesn't. And honestly I'm not sure how I feel about that, I'm kinda iffy on the idea of a character having seemingly unlimited power (especially when they only use it a handful of times, if at all), but I suppose it doesn't really matter because by the end of the story, she gives back most of her power to the Cauldron anyway, so any questions about that are just,,, thrown to the wind.

The characters in this story were a pretty mixed bag. I can say full-heartedly that I did not like Rhysand (there, I said his actual name instead of Rice Hand, Rice Hand is funnier to me). I don't think I've ever particularly liked him, he was too smarmy for my liking, and then when we got a look into his mind courtesy of ACOFAS, all I got out of it was that whatever is going on in his head does not match his outwardly appearance and demeanor whatsoever. (On the outside, he seems like he'd be the one to smirk a lot, probably use lots of sarcasm, on the inside it seems like if someone said "boobs" he'd start laughing uncontrollably. Like, it's weird. Idk what was going on in that book, it was weird.) But in this book, I did not like him, from the beginning. He was so hostile, so aggressive towards Nesta, at any given moment. I don't know if he had any sympathy at all for her situation, because he certainly didn't act like it. At anything Nesta would do, he would push back.

For example, when Gwyn decided to join Nesta in her training, Rice Hand said in her mind to not do anything (in the book, he said, "You are to treat Gwyn with kindness and respect." (pg. 304)), and the whole thing angers me for two reasons, the first being that Nesta's kindness was the reason that Gwyn was there in the first place. Which leads to the second reason, that it seems that Rice Hand is so convinced that Nesta is an unlikable person that she couldn't have possibly made friends (or at least friendly acquaintances) during her time at the House and working in the library.

Following that remark, Nesta noted that it seemed that Rice Hand didn't particularly like the fact that she and Cassian were a thing, which also ticks me off. Am I a huge fan of Cassian and Nesta being together? They're fine, but it's again that idea that she couldn't have possibly warmed up to someone that she has to be around the majority of the time, and maybe someone that doesn't default their mentality of her as "whatever she's doing, it's wrong/bad". To give credit to Cassian, he did figure out that Rice Hand said something to her and chided him for doing so. He actually caught Rice Hand doing it a few more times within the book and got after him about it those times, which is nice.

But that's not the only reason why I specifically did not like Rice Hand in this book. There's another thing he did which I feel is so much worse than what he did or said to Nesta. That thing would be that he kept information about Feyre from Feyre, specifically about her own pregnancy. Now, I said in the beginning that she had a troubled pregnancy. Basically, her baby had wings, but her body wouldn't be able to safely deliver the baby because of those wings. Before you ask "Hey, doesn't Feyre have shape-shifting powers?" or "What about a c-section?", Maas tucked away those easy solutions by saying that Madja, the person overseeing Feyre's pregnancy, told her that shape-shifting might put the baby at risk for more complications, and as far as the c-section thing goes, they just uh, they just haven't seemed to figure out how to do that. These Fae people live for hundreds of years and no one has ever figured out how to properly do a c-section, I guess. Additionally, it seems that Illyrian wings are particularly special, compared to the wings of the other two groups of winged Fae, Seraphim and Peregyrn, because whereas the wings of the Seraphims or Peregryns can move, allowing for an easier birth, apparently (for some fucking reason) Illyrian wings are bony? Like, in utero, they're already bony and difficult to move, which is where all those complications come in.

He told none of this to Feyre. All she knew about her own pregnancy, was that there might be some complications, she didn't know that there was a gigantic mortality rate with pregnancies like this, nothing like that. He purposely kept this information from her, it seems that the whole fucking Inner Court voted on it, or some shit. When Feyre was told of this whole thing from Nesta, Amren said it was to protect Feyre, to keep her from getting stressed or scared, which could worsen things further. But I counter that Amren, with this: How fucking scared do you think Feyre would have been, when she was in labor and everything, and things were rapidly spiraling out of control? She would have been terrified! Don't you think that would've affected something, because I fucking think it would have! Was there ever any intent to tell her about this, or did all of them just decide to never tell her?

The reason why Nesta told Feyre about it was to hurt her, initially, but it was also because she found out that the Inner Court had made a decision about her, personally, because she had accidentally made more "Dread Trove" items by imbuing her power in three swords that she made while at a blacksmith. She found out (via Cassian's absolutely terrible way of bringing up the swords she made) that they were planning to take them away (or something, I don't specifically remember), and that's when she went to Amren's place and demanded more information. When Feyre was brought to intervene, Nesta told Feyre what Cassian had told her (despite the fact that he was totally supposed to keep that a secret but whatever dude). Feyre was shocked, understandably, but she wasn't angry at Nesta for that, and I can't tell you how happy I was about that, I am so happy that Feyre wasn't angry at Nesta for telling her about this. She actually was angry at the other people for deciding to keep this information from her. I just,, I'm really happy that she wasn't angry at Nesta. Everyone else, on the other hand, was fucking pissed at her, including Rice Hand. He was absolutely livid, but the funny thing is, that I don't give a shit, honestly. He should have never kept that a secret in the first place.

I think as a whole, his behavior is explained away because "his mate is pregnant", so I guess he has full clearance to be obnoxious and aggressive and withhold information without the knowledge of all parties involved. What happened to always giving Feyre a choice, Rhysand? What happened to that? Did she only get a choice when you decided to give her one? Because that is certainly what this felt like.

Another thing that Rice Hand did that I would place in between his bullshit against Nesta and his bullshit against Feyre, is another thing that he did to Feyre. So, back in ACOTAR, I believe, when Feyre was still with Tamlin, Tamlin infamously trapped Feyre in a huge magical bubble, where she couldn't leave Tamlin's house. Everyone agreed that that wasn't the best thing for Tamlin to do, and Tamlin's punishment was completely equal to the evils he committed, one-hundred percent. (Not really, now he's stuck in his beast form, roaming the Spring Court in a state of anger and pain. Sympathy for him is quite the commodity in the books.) But what does any of this have to do with Rice Hand? Well, he basically did the same thing to Feyre, except rather than being stuck in a building, the shield is on her, and it's so strong that even her friends can't touch her without being hit by the shield. And when she's asked about it, Feyre just says that Rice Hand learned how to make shields from Helion, the High Lord of the Summer Court, and like,,,, is testing them out on her?? And we're all supposed to think this is fine? The shield is so intense that they can't even smell her (which is a thing, in this series. Fae people can smell other people, they have scents, idk man I'm just going with it), so effectively he's masking her entire existence, and no one has a problem with it. It's weird. It's not as bad as the pregnancy thing, but it's still not great.

I suppose since I'm talking about characters, I should talk about Cassian and Nesta, seeing as they did totally, undeniably become a Thing in this book. Idk how to really go about it, honestly. For the majority of the book, at least one of them was sure that the other didn't like them, or that they weren't deserving to be with the other, so that was fun. I don't particularly remember when, but at some point they both just,,, decided? to have casual sex, that it meant nothing (when it did, in fact, mean something), and it was like,,, a way of distancing themselves from the other. That is particularly the case with Nesta, who felt guilty for constantly pushing Cassian away at basically every turn. Apparently her attention was caught on him from like,,, the first time that she even saw him, way back when she and Elain were still human, in their cottage. She didn't love him or anything, but it was a Notice.

Despite that Notice, she still pushed him away, as I said, because she just didn't feel like she was good enough. Over the course of the book, Nesta quickly became ashamed of the life she had been living since being put in the Cauldron, which was all the drinking and sex (and that's it? Like, a lot of people in this book made it out to be this whole thing but I think that's basically all she did. Part of me feels like the main reason the Inner Court was so bothered by it in the first place was that she was billing it to them, who really wouldn't even notice the money spent anyway, given how much money they seem to have but whatever), and this was another thing that caused her to push away. (And then violently yo-yo back it was incredible) She also has been harboring a fuck ton of guilt over her father's death, which I think was something I worried about after reading ACOFAS? Idk, but it wasn't terrible. She acknowledged that she couldn't really do anything, that it was all over before she could move, but the main reason she felt so horrible about it, was because all this time, since her mother's death (and kinda before it?), she had been mean towards her father, constantly snubbing him, acting with disdain, etc., but during the war (in ACOWAR, it's so helpfully acronymed), he came to help with a fleet of ships, and the one he was on, he named after her. It showed that, despite all that she had said and done to him for all these years, he still loved her, and she felt that she didn't deserve that.

She felt guilty about what had happened to Elain, and felt angry that she wasn't able to do more. Her relationship with Elain kinda soured at a point, because it went from Elain being the withdrawn, sallow, underfed and distant one, to her being that, except with Elain, she would just sit in a chair in an empty room and wallow in her own misery, whereas Nesta used other aforementioned ways to try to forget. Throughout a lot of this book, Nesta and Elain are at each other's throats, and they did, apparently, make up, but I don't know when. For how much of the book is spent about them being at odds with each other, there's an odd lack of them actually making up with each other and settling all that. It's weird.

As a whole though, the center of Nesta's issues stem from the fact that she feels helpless. As she put it, all these things happened to her, she didn't do anything about it. She didn't (in most cases, couldn't) do anything to get herself out of those situations. She felt she lacked agency, in essence. I believe that is mostly why she acted the way she did, because then she could control how others felt about her. The other reason why she acted the way she did, is that her mother trained her to do so.

When her family was still rich (and their mother was still alive), Nesta was trained to be absolutely vicious in the ballroom. She knew how to win people over with small gestures or expressions, and how to read people with a glance. She also knew how to dance, ridiculously well it seems. There is a point in the story when, to make sure that Eris, a member of the Autumn Court that they had been using for information, was still friendly with them, she was chosen to dance with him, to make sure that the Night Court was still in his favor. So, she danced with him. By the end of it, Eris apparently wanted to marry her, and you can fucking imagine how pissed Cassian was about that (I do think that at this point in the book, Nesta and Cassian were most assuredly a Thing, whether either of them acknowledged it or not), but the whole point of it was to show that Nesta was really in tune with music, and that she knows exactly how to meddle in the politics to win in her favor.

Her mother raised Elain to be a perfect princess, to be married off to someone with lots of money. Her mother raised Nesta to be powerful (but, from Nesta's own thoughts, she remembers asking her mother if she was going to marry a person the same way Elain was, but her mother didn't respond). As for Feyre, Nesta says that their mother seemed to mostly forget or avoid Feyre, because she wasn't quite right or something. I'm not sure.

There is a little thing where Nesta thinks of herself as a caged beast stuffed in a pretty dress, because she remembers that she's always had to restrain herself to make sure that nothing went wrong. When her mental health declines, it is equated to wolves encroaching her space, snarling her doubts and fears, and how she used to deafen them using people or alcohol. It wasn't ever enough, but it's what she did.

One thing that did help with the wolves was something she learned from Gwyn, called Mind Stilling (cough cough it's just meditation cough wheeze), a practice used by an extinct group of female warriors called Valkyries. (Yup, just like the Old Norse Valkyries.) Throughout this book, Nesta, Gwyn, and another Illyrian woman named Emerie (along with a few others but they basically only are present in theory) all trained with Cassian (and Azriel, he showed up later on, just in case Maas thought you forgot about him) to become the new Valkyries. It turns out that Cassian knew of them, I think most of the Inner Court knew them or at least knew of them (which is what happens when you're over five hundred fucking years old jfc) before they died in battle. There are a couple portions of this book that are mostly just training montages, with added notes of "it would have taken forever to build muscles as a human, but being Fae meant that Nesta could get stronger much faster", just in case you thought that 3 training montages was a lil too fast.

All this training does culminate into something by the end of the book, almost literally. I feel like a lot of this book is just watching Cassian and Nesta bounce off one another (in more ways than one lmao), and then Maas at some point realized, "Oh shit I have to actually make these things mean something!" and so the payoff for all the training, so to speak, and Feyre's pregnancy are both resolved by the end of the book, just barely.

The training thing is resolved by Gwyn, Emerie, and Nesta (in that order, it was specified that Nesta took like, three days after Emerie and Gwyn to complete her training because she was so busy probably staring at Cassian and thinking about... stuff. That's basically what both of them were doing for a healthy portion of this 700+ page tome) cutting a white silk ribbon that was tied up to a pole. I guess the idea was that if they are able to cut a piece of ribbon fluttering in the wind, they have mastery over themselves and their weapons. Personally, I get it. Ribbons are evasive as fuck and will gain enough sentience to move away from you just enough so you can't grab them. I know for certain that I would not be able to do this.

Now, I've mentioned Emerie a few times now, who is she? During the three or so days at the Illyrian camp, Nesta comes to know an Illyrian woman named Emerie. She's a shopkeeper in the village, and she likes keeping her store neat. Her family doesn't like that she owns the shop, and wants it to be carried over to one of her relatives. One of the times that Nesta visits her, one of Emerie's cousins is there, spewing stupid nonsense about how she can't run a store on her own. (He ends up dying, in case you were wondering.) She seems like a pretty interesting character, and she and Nesta bond over their shared interests in books, and that they've both been through some shit. In Emerie's case, her wings were clipped, so she can't fly. It is(or was?) a practice that was(is?) pretty common in Illyrian society, because clearly no one wants the wamen flyin around, who else is gonna do the cookin and cleanin and child rearin? Emerie ends up joining Nesta and Gwyn in training, with her main motivation similar to Nesta's: that she never wants to feel or be powerless again.

I've talked about the training a few times now, and I've mentioned how it led to something, without saying what it leads to, so I'll say it here: it leads to the Blood Rite, which is an Illyrian coming-of-age sorta thing, where the participants (typically the male Illyrians, like I said they just can't have the wamen beating them at anything it'd hurt their wittle egos) are put in this forest and they are tasked to scale a mountain (at least one) within a week, and fight off any monsters trying to eat them, or opponents trying to beat them. It's pretty common for people to die in these.

Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie landed themselves in this Blood Rite by being kidnapped, that's apparently how the participants are put in the Rite. There was something unusual about this one, however, in that someone (I think it turned out to be someone under the control of Briallyn) planted weapons all over the forest, which isn't allowed. Something that also isn't allowed in the Rite is magic, so the magic that Nesta has become accustomed to and now has a decent relationship with, is gone. Cool.

In the process of getting up the mountain, Gwyn nearly dies, she got shot in the leg by an arrow, and Emerie nearly drowns in a river. Nesta nearly gets stabbed by Emerie's cousin, the same guy who showed up in her shop that one time, but then he gets killed. Woohoo, violence!

Right as Nesta is fighting with Emerie's cousin, Cassian shows up, which is surprising because he wouldn't normally be able to be there: if outside forces help a participant get through the Blood Rite, it is then considered invalid, and both the participant and the outside person are promptly killed (Woohoo, violence!). Turns out that he's under the control of Briallyn, who shows up as well. She orders Cassian to kill Nesta (because of course), and rather than stab her, he stabs himself. This is when the un-aliving thing happens that I mentioned earlier. Nesta was so caught up in the rage and stress of being in the Rite, then the sheer fury of what was going on, and it was an instance of her mind going, "I will not let this happen to me" and so she slammed the "undo" button on Briallyn's existence. (Woohoo, violence!) All is well though, because apparently Cassian did not, in fact, stab himself.

All is not well though, because as this whole thing ends, Feyre's pregnancy issues begin. I won't go over in detail because I've already talked about it earlier, but basically she went into labor way too early, and things have only gotten worse. She's bleeding out, everyone is certain that she will die. And thanks to the fact that, in ACOWAR, Feyre and Rice Hand made a vow that, if one dies, the other will, there's also the risk that Rice Hand will die, and since the baby is so premature, so will the baby. So there are three lives at risk, and no one knows what the fuck to do about any of it.

Except Nesta. Well, she doesn't really know what to do, but she's trying something. She takes the items of the "Dread Trove" (remember those?) and she uses them to pause time, right before death (kinda like pausing right before your Sim's death to save your game), and pleads with the powers in the objects and within herself, to show her how to save Feyre and the baby, and she will give her powers back to the Cauldron from which she took them. The powers are basically like "k lol", and she saves Feyre and the baby (his name is Nyx, which is just,,, it's so fantasy fiction omfg), and she tells Cassian later that she also altered her fucking body so that it can carry an Illyrian baby. Has she, at literally any point in the series, let alone this book, ever even thought she wanted a child? Nope, but everyone gotta have babies. (I get that people change their minds, and Nesta seems to have a fuck ton of time ahead of her to think about it, but idk it just kinda came up out of nowhere. How about beginning research into situations like that and maybe learn how to safely perform a c-section, in this case, so that future situations don't turn out as they seem to have previously. Nesta fixing her own body won't affect the who-knows-how-many other people who might get into this situation. Then again, it's not on her to solve everyone's problems,,, idk man)

Rrrrighttt at the end of the book, it mentions that Cassian and Nesta are going to have a mating ceremony, which for all intents and purposes, might as well be a wedding they talk about it like a wedding some of the practices and traditions are reminiscent of a wedding, it's a wedding. But for some reason, they don't actually have the ceremony in this book, even though I imagine Maas could've totally done it. What's another few pages in a 700+ page book, right? So I imagine that the ceremony might come up again in the next book, because Something is going to happen then. I have no idea what that Something is going to be, but that's my guess.

I don't think I have many issues with this book in particular, it's more with just the series as a whole. I just have a lot of questions with this series, and I got even more questions from this book. Most of my questions circulate around the powers of the characters within the Inner Court, such as how does literally everyone's powers work?? Throughout this book, it kept referring to Cassian's magic, that he wears a bunch of thingies (they're called Siphons but they'll always be thingies to me) to contain that magic, but it never actually says what his magic is. As far as I can tell, there are like,, idk how to describe it but like kinda threads?? of magic, I guess, that come from his Siphons, but other than that it's just that he,,, punch? He fight good? I really don't know. From what I can gather, his abilities could stem from his life rather than any magic he has. (I think that could actually be more interesting, him not having any magic, and kinda lend another reason as to why so many fucking people in this book shit on him for being the way he is. They all throw "Prince of Bastards" or some similar title at him, as if he's the only bastard to have ever existed in Prythian like, bad guys, please come up with more insults. Call him a shithead or something like be creative I'm really not feeling it)

With Nesta, it also does a poor job of explaining her magic, it's just repeated that it's old, it's ancient, it's from another time, a time before the Fae, a time long forgotten, but like, bro, what is it. I guess I'll never know. Elain's power, which also stems from the Cauldron, is barely mentioned in this book, aside from them saying that it's either gone away, or gone dormant, so she's treated as though she has no powers (that is, whenever she actually shows up in the book. Elain is just,,, rarely in the series. What is she doing at any given time the world may never know).

I don't really think that Maas understands how many stairs 10,000 stairs would be. I don't think she gets how long 500 years would be, and what you would even be doing for the majority of that time. I don't think she has a scale for how much power she has flung at her characters, to the point of it all being nonsensical. Everyone has so much power, we're told that Rice Hand has a ridiculous amount of power, somehow Feyre has double his power, but Amren had even more power, but Nesta has even more power than that and it's just,,, can I please have a frame of reference because I simply do not understand. I don't think she even has much of an explanation for the powers she has given her characters, and two examples I can immediately think of are Mor and Azriel. Mor's powers have simply been stated as "truth", but have we ever seen her use that power? What the fuck does that even mean, does she have a freakin lasso of truth or some shit like I don't understand. Then with Azriel, he got some kind of shadow magic thing going on, but like even within the story, the characters don't seem to understand how it works. Even the people that have known Azriel basically their entire lives (Rice Hand and Cassian) don't understand it. So how the fuck am I suppose to understand?

I'm just going to end it here because jfc this thing is so long, it's 10 pages long in Google Docs, and I heavily doubt anyone is going to read this far. If you have, much thanks! To clarify, I do like the series (to some extent) I just,, I have a lot of questions. So many, I couldn't fit them in here because they didn't really have any answers in the books (any of them, as far as I'm aware). Idk. How do people write conclusions? It's beyond me. Agh, anyway, thanks for reading this.

#i write so much sometimes like where do these words come from #i didn't even know i thought about this series that much #but yeah this thing is wayyyy too long for goodreads but i didn't want it all to go to waste so i'm putting it here #also on goodreads but it's painfully shortened on there #it's tragic #wait lmao how do you tag these books i've never done it before #acotar #a court of silver flames #acosf #feyre archeron #nesta archeron #elain archeron #rhysand #cassian #azriel #gywn berdara #emerie acosf #acosf spoilers #long post

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flipomatic · 4 years ago

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Internship Chapter 25: Day 22 - Amity

First Chapter Previous Chapter

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Today, Amity and Luz planned to visit another coven. They had gone to just over half at this point, and honestly Amity wasn’t sure how well it was going. So far, what she learned was more of the same. That she didn’t know what she wanted to do. While the covens all offered something different, they were each limiting in their own ways.

Amity was no closer to deciding which she wanted to join. She was having fun though; it was great spending time with Luz. Even as she tried not to embarrass herself in front of Luz, Amity enjoyed learning about the covens with her.

They agreed to meet in front of the school to go to the next coven, with Willow offering to join and show them around. Amity felt a little nervous about spending time with her, but knew things had gone okay last time. If she focused on not putting her foot in her mouth, she’d probably be alright.

After school ended, Amity worked her way to the designated meeting spot in front of the building. Luz and Willow were already standing there when she arrived. Luz was talking animatedly about something, while Willow giggled in response.

Amity fought off a twinge of nerves as she greeted them and was brought into the conversation. As it turned out, Luz was recounting a story from her oracle class that day. While trying to cast oracle magic, she had made an orb explode. It turned out the glyph she was trying to use made a gust of air, instead of telling fortunes. When she tried to use it on a crystal ball, well, it had gone badly. The sound effects Luz made to depict the event made it a lot funnier than it probably had been.

Once the story was finished, the group set off towards their destination. They were headed to the Plant Coven, or more specifically one of the larger greenhouses run by the coven. When Willow overheard Luz and Amity talking about it, she said she knew it well and offered to show them.

“What kind of plants do you grow?” Luz was full of questions, as usual.

Willow brought a hand up to her chin as she thought about it. She was leading the way as they walked, with Luz barely half a step behind her. Amity trailed after them, listening to the exchange. “Well, all kinds.” Willow said, smiling at Luz. “There are too many to count.”

“I’m so excited to see them!” Luz had a distinct bounce to her step today. It seemed like their experience at the construction site last week, which had almost resulted in their injury, hadn’t deterred her. Amity admired her tenacity.

The conversation continued as they neared the greenhouse. Willow talked about a couple different plant types they were growing there, after Luz pressed again for more details.

When they reached the building, Amity examined it carefully. It was just over one story tall, with the whole outside being made of glass. Even the roof was transparent, to let light into the building. There were some large plants on the other side of the glass, with a few witches visible beyond them.

Willow went in first, opening the glass door. Luz’s head was swiveling as she followed, with Amity not far behind.

Once inside, she could see the plants much more clearly. They were everywhere, covering almost every surface in the building. There were large plants, small plants, and even some plants that were bright colors. She had never seen so many in one place. There were a few witches around, some watering the plants while others cast spells.

One witch near the door looked over as the three students entered. “Hey Willow!” She called over to them and waved.

Willow returned the wave, before gesturing for Amity and Luz to follow her. “This is one of the main greenhouses. Most of the bigger plants are grown here.” She said as she led them further into the building.

Another witch said hi to Willow as they passed them, briefly interrupting the tour to exchange small talk. Willow rubbed the back of her head sheepishly as they continued.

“I’ve been visiting here for a long time.” She admitted, a hint of pink on her cheeks. “Even before I switched tracks.” Amity remembered when Willow had been on the abomination track with her and how much she had struggled with that type of magic. Willow changed tracks right around when Luz first appeared in their lives, which seemed to be a positive change for her.

“Your plant magic is amazing!” Luz complemented her, bringing a small smile to Willow’s face.

“Thanks Luz.” She replied quietly, then pushed on with the tour. “Each coven member is assigned space in the greenhouse. They have to grow plants that match the climate of the greenhouse, but other than that they’re free to choose.” Willow stopped by an elevated shelf that contained some pod like plants. “These are purple snappers, a rare and hard to grow species.”

Luz reached towards the plants slowly, one finger extended. The pod, as if sensing her approach, shifted as if to open. It gave Amity a bad feeling. She turned to Luz to suggest she stop, but Willow had beaten her to it.

Willow clamped a hand down on Luz’s wrist, yanking her back from the pod right before it surged forward. Amity saw only a hint of teeth before it settled back. “Don’t touch them, should’ve said that first.” Willow chuckled nervously.

Luz just stared at the plant in wonder. “It’s purple on the inside.” She finally said, unfazed from almost having her hand eaten.

Willow released her wrist. Amity probably would’ve held onto it a bit longer. “That’s how they get their name. They make great guard plants.”

“Guard plants?” Amity repeated the term; she hadn’t heard of that.

Willow nodded. “They’re often used around fences, to keep witches from climbing them.”

“I bet they’re good at that.” Luz’s eyes were sparkling as she admired the plant that almost bit her. “Who’s a good plant?” She cooed, both hands behind her back as an effort to not try and touch it again.

As hard as it was for Amity to tear her eyes away from Luz, especially when she was being this cute, she still wanted to ask more questions. “What else are the plants here used for?”

“Some are used in potions.” Willow answered as she started moving again through the greenhouse. “Others are planted across town, sold to other witches, or kept here for experiments.” They stopped at a large tree, one that towered over the teens and almost reached the ceiling. “They’ve been trying to graft different types of trees onto this one, so it can produce various types of fruit.” Willow pointed to one of the branches, which was a different color than the others.

Amity squinted up at it; it barely looked different to her. Luz was impressed though, and commented about how convenient that would be.

“How do I get space to grow something here?” Luz asked, eyeing one of the few open patches of dirt nearby.

Willow shook her head, now frowning slightly. “Coven members only, I’m afraid. I can’t grow anything here either.”

Luz’s expression immediately fell. “That’s too bad. I can already do a plant spell too.” She whipped out her glyph notebook, quickly flipping to an open page. The plant spell was pretty impressive, though Amity still didn’t understand how Luz’s magic worked.

“Oh, I bet the coven members would love to see that.” Willow called a few of them over as Luz drew the glyph. She drew it slowly, likely wanting to get it right on the first try.

Luz glanced around, and then tapped the glyph with her finger. A small plant sprung up, just larger than her hand. The coven members around them oohed at the accomplishment.

They immediately started asking questions about the glyph and what kind of seed Luz was using. She admitted she didn’t know, which only seemed to intrigue them more. They asked if they could have a copy, to try and plant it. Luz couldn’t turn them down, and she ended up making five more plants to hand out.

Watching Luz have fun always lifted Amity’s mood. Now she was talking about how she wanted to find a new plant glyph, to make different types of plants. One of the coven members had started taking notes.

The Plant Coven seemed interesting, but like the others Amity couldn’t imagine spending all of her time in a greenhouse like this.

Willow had separated from the group, to go water one of the nearby plants. This one was much smaller, some kind of flower that hadn’t bloomed yet. Amity joined her, watching as the water trickled between the leaves.

“Are you really thinking about joining the Plant Coven?” Willow had her eyes focused on the plants as she asked the question. The question hung in the air, heavy despite the clamoring nearby.

Amity brought one hand up to her wrist as she searched for the words to respond. “I’m not sure what I want to do.” She replied after a moment, giving an honest response. It was a strange feeling, sharing things with Willow again. She remembered the last time she had, not long before the birthday where everything fell apart. “That’s why we’re looking.”

“I’m sure you’ll find it.” Willow paused her pouring and turned to her, a half-smile on her face. “And if you don’t, that’s fine too.”

“Is it?” Amity’s eyebrows scrunched together. She wasn’t sure if she agreed with that.

Willow nodded, her eyes flicking over to Luz. “Yeah, I think it is.”

Amity followed her line of sight, where Luz was now laughing at something one of the coven members had just said. When she saw them looking, Luz excused herself and hopped over to them.

“Ooh, what kind of plant is this?” Luz fawned over the plant Willow had just watered.

“Chrysanthemums.” Willow replied. “Though they haven’t bloomed yet.”

“Oh, we have those in the human world too!”

The three talked more about human world flowers, before moving to the back of the greenhouse. There were some different types of cacti there, which Luz wisely didn’t try to touch.

With that, they had seen most of the plants they had there. Luz and Amity soon left, with Willow staying behind to lend a hand.

As they walked away from the greenhouse, they chatted about what they saw. Luz was trying to draw a new plant glyph, with little success.

Amity couldn’t stop thinking about the few words she’d shared with Willow and what she’d said about choosing a coven.

Next Chapter

#the owl house #the owl house fanfiction #amity blight #luz noceda #willow park #this chapter is interesting I think

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thesalemsaga · 4 years ago

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𝟲 — 𝗺𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗮𝗶𝗱 𝗯𝗮𝘆

— 𝙨𝙞𝙭𝙩𝙝 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙢 𝙨𝙖𝙜𝙖.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 : 6.4k words

𝙨 : they’ve left the walls, and now it seems like they’re unstoppable. however, having to make a short stop, they soon uncover the savagery that has taken hold of the world, putting their training to the test.

“ doesn’t your eye-sight hurt? ”.

alexander peered up once seren’s voice caught his ears.

she had been sitting at his side for a good hour, glancing over his shoulder whilst his index finger trailed beneath the lines consisting of runes and symbols that she had never dreamt of seeing before. for the first time she took knowledge over how his fingers were tainted with ink, red from hours of writing, pouring every last pint of energy he had into his studies.

seren had seen copious books thrown in front of her when exam season hit the calendar, but nothing could compare to what this boy probably had to sit through to be a qualified cleric. she took to admire alexander for how he persevered, it didn’t seem like it was labor for him, he must enjoy it to some degree. even now, when he could be talking to the others, growing closer to them, strengthening bonds, he continues reading as if to never give himself a break from the school they probably wouldn’t see for a while.

yet, the more she thought about it, the clearer it became. maybe it was for the very reason that they would not face their school for some months that he clung to the only thing that might bring a sense of normalcy. school is hell, albeit the only thing they’ve ever known within the walls. it kept them grounded, centered on something. even seren, an avid daydreamer, allowed herself to be consumed by her studies and let it became the center of her life.

now she realizes that she has to distance herself from the only life she’s ever known and replace it for one she could not control, where the laws didn’t bend at her will, because nature kneels to no one.

alexander was wise, though, to keep something to occupy his mind. who knows how long it’ll be before they start to lose their ways and begin to cave into the reality of the world outside?

“ m-my father got me these at the start of the year after . . . some glasses that made my eye-sight worse. these ones have steadily improved it, though ”, he replied after a moment, immediately drawing his attention once more to the book he grasped within his hands.

seren hummed, swinging her feet slightly. “ is your hair also always like that? ”, she questioned. she found herself in a very questioning mood that day, maybe it was an attempt to distract herself from the utter boredom she might face during this flight to egypt.

“ like what? ”.

“ that bowel-shape cut. ”

his face suddenly incredibly pink, red rising to the tip of his ears. seren’s eyes widened for a moment with slight realization, “ w-well, you get what i mean. always the same style, quite conservative. do you ever switch it up? ”.

“ how? i find it unnecessary. and a waste of time, if you ask me. ”

chuckling, the girl rested her back against her seat and ran her fingers through her own hair, “ not exactly. i find that boys switch up their hairstyles more than girls on some occasions. have you seen percy? one day he has a perm, the next he’s wearing a beret. ” it was super cute.

alexander appeared timid all of a sudden. “ well i’m not percy, seren. i find that i quite like my look. sure, the glasses can be fussy and the hair is hard to cope with in the morning, but it’s my signature look. like your hair bow ”.

seren defensively grasped her ointment, “ i have my bow but i still style my hair differently on occasions. i customize it, explore my way of dressing. it’s actually a great way to learn to appreciate your looks, looking at yourself in different ways. ”

alexander seemed unwilling to counter, attention on the book once more. taking a deep inhale, the girl smiled and reached over. he had a signature look himself, that face. his entire face was a signature because his features were so firm and bold and beautiful, it would still be him even if he chose to wear something different or styled his hair.

she found herself removing his glasses, ignoring the fuss he appeared ready to put on, and messed up his hair, bringing the locks hiding his forehead and pushing them back. thankfully, they fell right into place. capturing a glance at him, seren felt like she was looking at a different person, she smiled to herself, content with the transformation that had occurred under her doing.

“ w-what? ”.

seren shook her head slightly, “ you look good. you look even better, actually. people never realize how beautiful they are when others are looking at them. you still look like you, in case you’re wondering. but just without the glasses. stop squinting~ ”.

“ s-sorry ”, letting out a small laugh, alexander raked a hand through his locks and seren was barely able to contain her excitement, he seemed to be liking it! “ i just really can’t see without my glasses. contact lenses are hard to wear, as well, i tear up and people think i’m constantly upset. ”

seren peered at the frames in her hands and hummed, “ can’t you enchant yourself to fix your own eye sight? or are long-term conditions out of question? i hear only a witch doctor can do that. ”

“ percy could. he’s a mage. the magic i access is limited only to healing and enchanting things that might bring people at death’s door. a stab wound, i can deal with. a cancer or a chronic illness, i’m afraid i can’t deal with that. believe me, i’ve tried ”, he countered, flipping aimlessly through his pages. seren’s eyes suddenly frowned. “ i would ask percy but . . . it’s too much to ask. it would demand a crazy amount of mana. ”

seren held her breath.

she’d witnessed it herself, the moment percy went pale the night before and for just a split second, it felt like he went totally limp before managing to catch himself. mana was the fuel source for anyone dealing with magic, and if you drain it, it eats your energy away in chunks if you use your magic excessively and recklessly.

alexander pushed on, “ besides, he could end up panicking and blinding me for life. i know he feels slightly reluctant when dealing with his magic. he hesitates all the time in magical art lessons. it’s like he’s scared of what he’s capable of. ”

“ well isn’t everyone? having that much power should scare anyone ”, seren shook her head, staring at her feet. “ magic is serious business, that’s why i felt lucky to not have inherited it. because as a swordsman, i have control of who my target is. as a mage, i might end up burning a whole village to kill just one man. ”

the aircraft suddenly shifted, and the girl caught herself in case she went overboard. it wasn’t turbulence, it seemed like they were going to start to make a descent into the territory they’d dreamed of stepping into. she stood up, clinging to the security railings on the roof and walls. “ what’s happening? ”, she called.

perseus peeked his head out of the cabin door with his cheeky, boxy grin. “ we’re about to land! ”, he replied over the sound of the engine roaring, but as they neared their descent, all that she could hear was the whistle of the wind. beyond the windows, she saw red. well, red soil.

the landscape in which they’d landed resembled a savanna region which you wouldn’t have expected to find in egypt a long time ago. the dirt paths were overtaken by spreading grass, tall acacia trees scattered around but not close enough to resemble a full forest. no animals in sight, as expected. and if there were, they probably fled when they heard the aircraft landing.

landing in a desolate terrain that a human being has probably not stepped into yet was a thrilling idea, albeit terrifying. because if there weren’t humans roaming then there had to be something else, lurking, aware that something strange and out of their world had just touched down on their soil.

it felt forbidden, like they shouldn’t be here.

“ are we in the sinai peninsula? ”, seren quizzed.

at the shake of kailen’s head, she was growing confused. “ i made an emergency landing because i need to figure this compass out. if i try to do it on hair it’s just going to waste fuel. we might as well pause here until i get this thing working. ”

“ well, what do we do in the meantime? ”.

“ explore for a bit, i suppose. ”

romeo was the first one out once the hatchet opened. seren stepped out and landed on the grass with her two feet. the sensation was albeit the same but knowing that they were no longer caged within stone walls and now roamed the wild, it was no wonder her heart felt heavier, blood pumping with excitement.

what she did notice was how unbearably hot it was, the sun smiling down at them, toasting the girl beneath her dense military clothes. they only weighed her down, and if she was going to traverse through desserts and dry lands, there was no point wearing it.

after ripping her jacket off, she felt a massive improvement, loosening one button of her white shirt and slipping her gloves off. “ s-seren, what are you doing? ”, she heard perseus stammer behind her. she blinked at him cluelessly.

“ i’m burning hot. besides, these things are only going to slow us down. we’re not representing valhalla out here, we’re by ourselves. ”

pacing forward, she began to investigate her surroundings with a little more liberty. time was of the essence, but they were not expecting to reach salem within a week, that was very unlikely. so whilst tying her hair back with her ribbon, she took to admiring the trees, the landscape, the mountains in the distance.

“ from what i heard ”, alexander began suddenly, crouching down to take a sip of his water. “ the peninsula became densely populated with trees. it used to be more of a dessert, mountain range. now it’s practically a rain forest. most of the middle east is a rain forest. ”

which would mean that there would be less dessert to traverse, which the girl was thankful for. she’d heard rumors that during the apocalypse period, the world underwent a series of freezes that meant temperatures drastically cooled down and even countries that used to be in the line of the equator became sudden areas stained with trees and wildlife. egypt was one of them.

and with cooler temperatures, trees and humidity, the wildlife can be, well, wild. the girl realized that after spotting something on the dry dirt just after a patch of grass. something that seemed to resemble footprints, huge ones.

whoever they belonged to, the creature had hands resembling a human being if it wasn’t so thin and so lanky, and she was certain she had just come across claw marks embedded into one of the nearby acacias. crouching, the girl ran her fingertips over the prints and hummed.

“ you okay? ”, romeo asked.

she motioned him over and pointed to the foot prints, measuring at least at three metres in length. “ what kind of animal would you find in the middle of these plains who could have such a claw? ”, she questioned.

“ dragons, or some sort of lizard-resembling creature ”, the gunner replied, grazing his fingers over the marked dirt. “ these aren’t new footprints, though, they have most likely been here for at least three or four days. they’ve not faded yet because of the lack of wind. ”

seren frowned, looking off at the set of mountains in the distance. casting her memory back to when she met alexander in the library, she had pulled out a book on the creature at hand. it spoke of the domains dragons took to, and long mountain ranges were some of them.

hopefully we’ll be out of here before such dragon can spot us, she prayed.

“ hey, i think i found a lake or pond! ”.

they immediately stood and walked on over to where evangelos stood and pointed. there was certainly a body of water, a stream of some sort that most definitely belonged to a greater source, perhaps something verging off of the nile river. “ it’s pretty cool, i’d suggest maybe getting clean water or cooling down before we head back ”, perseus called.

seren did just that, crouching over the edge and taking the water in her hands, holding it to her nose. no funny odor, and based off of how evangelos was drinking, it had no funny taste either. and it wasn’t pristine, yet she could at least see the bottom of the pond.

she refilled her water bottle and set it to be cooled, and then splashed her face a couple of times and instantly felt better, headache simmering down with each passing second until it stopped. “ you’d never would have thought the world would be peaceful like this after stepping outside ”, romeo began, grinning to himself.

“ this won’t account for the rest of the world. for all we know, the rest could be filled with monsters of all sorts trying to kill us. but it’s nice that there’s a safe haven here, minus the dragon footprints ”, evangelos ran a hand through his now damp hair. “ i asked kailen. we’re apparently very close to cairo. we might even be able to see the pyramids if we fly low enough. ”

“ seriously? ”, seren gasped and beamed. “ that’d be so great! but . . . we’d be best off staying on higher ground to avoid being spotted or alarming anyone we don’t want knowing we’re here. ”

it was unknown just how for salem’s hand stretched. eastern europe was occupied completely by her henchmen and it was why they advanced so easily down into the balkan countries. the empire military was being forced back into greece as their defenses fell, their greatest fear being that salem would find crete soon enough, and the last set of human beings would be crushed under her wrath.

earth would have to start again, smaller, weaker, with no means of fixing what they had since it was going to be stripped from them anyway. seren’s blood boiled, it came to a point where she was done questioning the morale of a person like salem, of why people go to these lengths to pursue things for their own benefit. evil people just exist, they don’t need a reason.

she would be damned if she let the woman get close to her home. having been spotted in russia already probably had her hiding out in fear, but fear brings panic, and in the midst of panic, she might do something catastrophic and seren promised her father the woman would be dead before such thing could happen.

“ do you think . . . there are human beings outside of the walls? ”.

seren turned to perseus and rose a brow, “ separate populations? ”.

the boy nodded. “ yeah. people who weren’t given a chance of treading into the walls like everyone else, people who isolated themselves. people who saw the wild as their home and never thought to abandon it. different languages, a different culture. i think it’d be nice if we came across something like that ”, he suddenly chuckled. “ though, let’s hope they’re not aggressive. ”

“ for all we know, they could also believe they’re the last people on earth. we’d surely give them quite a scare, being armed to the brim ”, evangelos stated, tilting his head. “ human beings can be sympathetic despite their differences. i don’t think we’re going to get killed at the hands of people like that, though. that’d be a waste. ”

it was never said whether there were humans beyond the walls. seren knew the government worked hard to expand the walls at the same pace that the population grew, allowing people to situate their homes in zones they deemed ‘safe.’ never was it said that they made contact with other people, and if they did, they kept it as a very, very good secret.

they suddenly jumped at an echoing sound and threw their gazes over their shoulders to find kailen at the open hatchet, waving them over with a grin. “ i’ve fixed it! ”.

romeo grumbled, “ about time. ”

once inside the ship, seren found alexander tapping away at some control buttons on the board, the compass glowing green and seemingly working pretty well. kailen had pulled out a map of the old world, and he prayed that the land structure hadn’t changed exactly.

“ it seems like we’re going in a more north east direction. as soon as we get into sinai, we’ll start treading through the middle east, and even more east just to avoid the baltics. from what i heard, salem doesn’t have much control over china and mongolia. so we have to enter through there ”, kailen spoke whilst running a red pen, tracing through path and drawing what seemed to be a border around the baltics. it was a good tactic, avoiding where the enemy’s front line was. he looked back at seren who stood just behind him. “ what do you think? ”.

the girl shook her head, “ it’s perfect. what we have to be mindful of is not disturbing any of her minions in the area, but we can worry about that later. how much fuel are we on? ”.

kailen winced, lowering his head. “ three hours, at least. t-though, i hear there is a place where we might find some . . . ”.

time skip . . .

the flight wasn’t too long, but it was long enough for the girl to catch another nap. the seats were incredibly uncomfortable, the components of the seat belt digging into her torso and waking her up when the airship would shift at times. the feeling only relieved when she had an idea.

evangelos had been sitting beside her quietly, doing what appeared to be doodling on his phone. valhalla students were given school phones that aimed mostly at giving them a better experience in their classes, and they had longer lasting batteries, which is why evangelos seemingly whipped it out. some adjustments made by alexander meant that the school could not trace them.

the seat beside the male was free, and the seat belt component was lowered which meant that what she had in mind could work, it was just a matter of whether evangelos would be comfortable. seren bit her lip and sat down beside him regardless, he lifted his gaze and glanced at her. “ what’s up? ”.

she didn’t say a word, resting her head against his shoulder and finding herself feeling way more comfortable as opposed to before, smiling softly to herself. evangelos merely held his breath, but made no attempt at moving or pushing her away. you’d think she would be more cautious around him of all people.

in reality, she would have felt awful for avoiding him because of that dueling incident. her arms were still recovering, albeit slowly. and the burn marks became heavily obvious in the daylight, hence her attempts at hiding them as best as she could.

and she probably to avoid making evangelos feel bad.

“ comfortable? ”.

the girl nodded, crossing her arms over her chest and pursing her lips slightly. she was bothered by the marks she saw on the dirt road despite romeo’s reassurance. in all honesty, she was far more concerned with the idea of there being a dragon roaming the heavens than getting to salem.

kailen had stated there was a nearby bay area on the coast of northern sinai where human dealings had stained. some sort of power plant from a long time ago had exploded, leading to the area becoming unstable and too toxic to support human life. after many, many years, it looked as if the toxicity levels were low enough for the fuel to be deemed safe enough to power the airship’s engine.

what didn’t bide well with the girl was the lack of a hostile presence ever since their journey began. they had not encountered one enemy aside from clues pointing to a dragon terrorizing the nearby area, but to come face to face with an abnormal creature was still on their to-do list. it was silent, peaceful, nothing she was complaining about but it drained the thrill from the situation and made it feel as if they were sneaking out to a party rather than, you know, saving the world.

that would only mean that whatever they encountered soon was going to shake her to her core. hence why apprehension to easing down and resting too much, but she found evangelos’s shoulder to be comfortable. his presence radiated that of protection aside from intimidation. and he was warm.

seriously warm.

“ did it hurt? ”.

“ hm? ”.

his fingers grazed gently over the surface of her arms. his touch was delicate, not an ounce of mal intention with it. it was perhaps the most docile thing she had seen from evangelos from the moment she met him. her thoughts drifted once more to the duel, to the internal shock she experienced after that impact, the agony that came from the burns, the way her bones rattled in fear when she realized her weakness.

“ well, of course it hurt. but does it still hurt? ”, he sounded concerned, and a part of her ached on his behalf. to have everyone glance at you as if you’re some sort of monster when your anger builds and you act upon it must be something nobody wants to necessarily deal with. she hurt for him. and she didn’t see a reason for holding a grudge against an injury that will heal. sure, the marks will always be there. but they will never be a reminder that evangelos was a violent person. ever.

seren glanced at his hand and chuckled, patting it gently. “ it did. but what hurts me most is that you’re still hanging on. it’s healing, as most injuries do. i just want you not to worry about it when there are other things we have to heal ”, she said.

and that was not her attempt at shutting down the conversation, it was simply a way to reassure evangelos in case his thoughts were scrambled, in case he somehow considered himself as the monster people painted him as.

“ like . . . the wounds of people who might have been denied a home within the walls. the wounds of people who never got a chance to be saved. if they’re out there, then we have to help them heal. isn’t that what heroes are supposed to do? ”.

evangelos started, “ y-yeah, but . . . ”.

“ my wounds will heal. memories stay but it’s how you remember them that counts. i don’t remember it as an attack. i remember it as a mistake. and we all learn from them. ”

it was clear she wanted to say more to nurse the situation, to put his mind at rest but she was cut off when the engine began to roar a little louder. upon listening out, it became apparent it was not the engine. but rather, waves crashing against each other. an ocean. a beach.

when the ship landed and the hatchet opened once again, seren felt a chill crawl down her spine when the pristine blue sky she had seen previously turned bleak, grey. lifeless. something you’d expect to see on a cold island in northern europe, not in a tropical region blessed with greenery and life.

upon stepping out, it felt like entering another planet.

craters of sharp rocks and dips made the landscape, the waves thrashing roughly against the shores. it was violent, turbulent, as if a storm slowly crept above them. it was a phantom menace, one that would bare its fangs and strike the rocks with pummeling strength. it took her a couple of steps back suddenly to avoid getting hit by a wave. when her back hit kailen’s chest, she let out a minor squeak.

but he applied a firm hand to her shoulder and nodded to the others, “ alright, there has got to be an oil source nearby. the toxicity will not kill you since it’s harmless at this point. but still be careful. fill the tanks as best as you can. if there’s any sign of movement, don’t wait. just act. ”

the tanks he mentioned weren’t large but it was enough for each member to carry one individually. kailen had suggested that he stayed in the ship whilst they went off to get the oil before quickly returning.

but seren was apprehensive to leave him alone. “ are you sure you don’t want someone to stay behind? ”, she quizzed as they prepared to leave. “ you know we can’t exactly communicate without alerting the academy of where we are, what if something happens to you? ”.

kailen gave her his usual comforting smile, one which causes every suspicion or worry to practically vanish. but it didn’t work this time around on seren. “ i’ll be okay. you just hurry back. it’d be nice to get going before night fall. ”

there was no use convincing him, of course.

seren hurried just like everyone else. it was in their best interest to hurry in order to avoid enemies, but her worry remained grounded on kailen who had stayed in the ship. and although he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, he might not be able to resist a mob of enemies, in whatever form they manifest themselves in. dragons, goblins, maybe even the very henchmen from last night.

“ kailen can handle himself, seren ”, romeo briskly reminded her with a quick pat on the back before hurrying her along. “ he’s an archer, sure. but his semblance won’t fail him in an attack if he gets swarmed. trust me, he will be okay. ”

seren chuckled, “ it’s a habit of mine to worry. i was even concerned when he was with alex fixing the compass. i suppose i feel anxious when we’re not in a group, if you can understand that. ”

romeo hummed, and swung the tank in his arm in a childish fashion that incited a grin from the girl. even if they were escaping mortal danger and running towards the enemy, he still acted as if it was a walk in the park. “ i don’t. but i reckon it’s due to the fact that i know their skills. and i know how strong they are individually. don’t worry, you’ll only exhaust yourself if you keep panicking during the journey. ”

to a great extent, she agreed. but this was also a habit that she has had from a young age, like her habit of taking the blame when it wasn’t hers to claim. unhealthy habits, as one might call it. it was going to take her a lot more time to grow distant from that constant worry. it wasn’t as if she was doubting their skills, they were in higher ranks than her and had stellar combat performances. yet . . .

a whistle from alexander caused her attention to shift. it seemed as if he had found something worth checking, so they hurried over.

what they stumbled across was a bunch of iron barrels with some sort of symbol on them. not the danger symbol, not the flammability symbol, but something else, a mark of manufacture. it was long faded, something that belonged to the old world yet it still sent shivers down her spine. part of the past stood in front of them.

perhaps the most bizarre detail to the scene were the skulls.

skulls.

ribs, skulls, arms and feet. as if a graveyard had surfaced from the soil, the barrels might have been a metaphor for a gold mine but the apparent human remains was what stunned seren the most. and even as the boys moved to fill the tanks, she remained with her feet nailed to the ground, her concern growing tenfold.

there was no use asking for what they believed happened here when it was somewhat clear. it had been a previous power plant, as kailen stated, and after an accident, nobody ever came to look at what remained of the location. craters of oil remained, yet what appeared to be the bodies of the workers also stayed. it was a disturbing sight of which she thought she’d only see in movies.

her steps brought her beside perseus who was studying one of the skulls closely, gloves slipped on and eyes narrowing in thought. “ notice how there is what appears to be bite or scratch marks near the top. that wouldn’t happen if it was a power plant accident, except if they were making monsters instead of oil, which i doubt ”, he stated, looking up at her. “ what do you think? ”.

seren brought her eyes towards the ocean, angry, thrashing, crashing, battling for what seemed to be a victim to pull into its grasps and yank it back into unknown depths.

“ i believe . . . it could have been a monster of some sort. maybe some animals that moved to the area and thought it would be nice to feast on the remains but the toxicity should have killed them and there are no animal bones . . . ”, she spoke, looking around. “ my bet is that it’s a monster. ”

evangelos suddenly grunted as he filled up the tank and screwed the lid shut. “ if there were monsters, they might have showed up by now. those marks look new, if we had the equipment we might have been able to locate the origin. but if it’s monsters, i suggest we hurry up ”.

but what kind of monster would attempt to dig their fangs into a human skull and then leave it aside. it would be normal if the flesh of the bodies had rotted and joined the soil beneath their feet, yet seren was uneasy. it felt too good to be true that this bay, dark and grey, was radio silent aside from the waves crashing ahead of them.

it was a horrible sensation, ignoring that worry gnawing at the back of her mind and then proceeding to fill up her tank with as much fuel as it could carry. she strained to lift it from the ground after screwing the cap shut but she heaved it up and sighed, following romeo who offered the way back to the ship.

with fuel in hand, they will be able to travel a longer distance before sundown and probably find themselves within the rain forest quickly. it would mean that they will be exposed to new danger but it would keep them hidden from any eyes from above trying to track them down.

“ where’s the ship? ”.

huh?

surely enough, when seren glanced up from the ground, her hand suddenly trembled and the tank met the floor within seconds as the ship had vanished. gone, as if it had never been there to begin with.

her first reaction was to believe that kailen might have left them. but if it had been the case, they would have heard the airship taking off and would have come running back long before their current return.

when they heard kailen’s scream, though, they all acted.

romeo suddenly bolted towards the edge of the rocks where he soon spotted the airship being dragged down the rocks, constantly being engulfed by violent waves that they couldn’t stick too close to. what was dragging the ship into the ocean?

seren’s worst nightmare.

mermaids, in mythology, are often depicted as beautiful creatures. alluring, tropical, ethereal. with perfect teeth and hair and stunning voices that will drive a sailor mad, inviting you in with docile smiles and large, curious eyes.

the mermaids that were dragging the ship into the ocean were far from it.

they were scathing around like wild animals, screeching and screaming loudly. there were dozens of them, seren was driven dizzy by the waving tails and the blunt force they used to drag the ship, pushing and pulling and screaming repeatedly and it felt like her ears were going to start bleeding soon, yet she gasped and reached for iron thorn the moment romeo fired a shot from his weapon.

“ kailen’s there! don’t let them get away! ”.

the ship was probably long gone, half submerged under water with kailen in the hatchet, motionless. seren’s food rose to her stomach in heaps yet she managed to fire some essences of ice from her blade, and it reached at least five mermaids, enveloping their tails and pulling them down into the rocks, keeping them from grasping at kailen.

but that still left at least twenty of them that evangelos and perseus were trying their best to blow away with the shots they could fire. evangelos was re-loading consistently, looking fed up by the second and perseus struggled on remaining on his feet. “ kailen! kailen, come on, man! kailen! ”, alexander yelled over the edge, flinching back when a mermaid jumped from a wave and tried to claw at his face. it was only then when seren realized that their nails were razor sharp.

with each stroke of ice and fire, the mermaids seemed to scream their way into the waves but when they began to drag kailen, alexander finally jumped into action and motioned with his hands. when the faint glow swarmed kailen’s body, the mermaid pulling him down shrieked and clawed at him. when alexander began to lift kailen’s body, seren was hopeful he would make it all the way.

when a mermaid jumped and suddenly grasped his ankle, romeo ran to keep the male on the rocks but kailen’s body began to fall back into the waves and seren did the only thing she could. and threw her sword that then pinned the fabric of kailen’s cape against the rocks. and then bolted, running the curve and launching her body over the edge and grabbing him roughly.

and soon, with the little strength she had, heaved him up, caring not for her sword that was probably going to fall into the waves.

“ perseus! ”.

seren busied herself with removing the tight jacket kailen wore as well as the chest coat and yet he made no attempt in breathing or moving. her blood began to run cold and when she began to apply her weight onto his chest, compressing a dozen times, she didn’t notice the hot tears spilling down her cheeks.

she was crying.

“ kailen? kailen! come on, wake up, wake up! breathe for me, kailen, please, we can’t lose you now! ”.

she grunted and pressed harder at a steady pace, her compression only becoming sloppy when she began to realize it wasn’t working. he wasn’t breathing. he wasn’t breathing! choking back a sob, seren pressed harder and felt someone grasping her shoulder but yanked their hand away and brought herself closer to the unresponsive boy. “ kailen, for fucks’s sake, stay with us! please! ”, she cried.

it was only when seren moved over him, pinched his nose and covered his mouth with hers, followed by two steady inhales, that she felt the boy flinch beneath her and jumped back to see the life rushing back to him.

kailen looked pale, coughing up the sea water that had been trapped within his lungs for some minutes. he was drenched, in some sort of pain, groaning through every cough and when he came to a stop, he panted. looking at the concerned faces looking over him, bringing his attention to seren and then looking around, as if to look for the ship.

“ w-what happened? w-why did i black out? ”, he grunted, moving to sit up but being pushed back down by evangelos who removed his jacket and wrapped it over the other’s shoulders. “ where’s the ship? o-oh god, did i lose the ship? ”.

seren’s lip quivered whilst she wiped the tears from her eyes, grimacing at the thought of having lost a team mate in the midst of something like that. the mermaids came out of nowhere, and through the way they shone their teeth at her, they were not good mermaids, not the ones she wold read about in stories and fairy tales. they were monsters.

and they had almost killed kailen.

if they hadn’t arrived faster, kailen would have suffered the same fate as the remains of those people they had come across near the iron barrels. he would have been eaten.

“ they dragged the ship into the ocean. there’s no way we’re going to recover it now ”, romeo voiced with a sigh. seren glanced up when perseus gave her iron thorn. her heart sank once more. if she had lost kailen and her weapon . . . she gave the boy the best smile she could manage and nodded in gratitude, looming worriedly over the boy. “ looks like we’re gonna be walking. ”

kailen sighed and met eyes with seren, smiling timidly at her. “ sorry if i scared you. but thank you for acting so quickly ”, he managed through another cough.

“ y-yeah, it’s no worries ”, seren said and smiled back at him.

but they had a lot to worry about. the day had seemingly grown darker. they had faced possible carnivorous mermaids and they had also lost their ship.

night would fall soon.

they would get hungry.

they lost their direction.

they lost their means of travel.

they were lost. officially.

#chapter six #original writing #fantasy #magic #futuristic #dystopian

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rapchimble · 6 years ago

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Swimmer JK AU

Loud cheers broke out behind him.

His hair stuck to his face, wet from his shower.

If he closed his eyes at that very moment, he wondered, would he even hear the beat of his own heart?

Jungkook felt cold in his speedos, torso bare to the biting ice of the air. The stadium had an open roof for reasons he did not know. His teammates waited for him to receive his individual trophies - freestyle and butterfly - and join their after match pizza party in celebration of them winning the team relay event.

There were people all around him: mothers of younger swimmers fussing with infants on the pavilion, street goers admiring the lean bodies as they passed the stadium, the losing team that were still glaring at him with unmasked envy, girls who had come to cheer for him.

His heart thudded from the anxiety. Their gazes pierced into his back. He felt them on the knobs of his spine, sticking to him like gnats he could not swat away. Was he happy? He did not know.

The smell of chlorine encompassed him. The pools always smelt clean. It was the people, the mix of talc, food and frenzy that put him off. Despite being the star of the event, he knew he was but a sub-priority. Jeon Jungkook, swimming protege, body indecipherable to the water that pulled him, knew of what he was expected to accomplish. Sometimes he wished he did not know so much, but the truth, although cruel, was blatantly obvious.

People wanted him to win at something they found him incapable of losing at. Even more troubling were the shining eyes, the relief his parents had with yet another manifestation of a private school sports scholarship held secure. He hated the way he was a part of someone’s trivial checklist- Jeon Jungkook won for the team again, get pizza, encourage son to be like Jeon Jungkook.

He should be honoured, but he was just uncomfortable.

Jungkook was only seventeen. Why did he have to be so important to so many people?

He opened his eyes and shook his head as the host announced his name.

Hoseok hunched over his microphone like a pop singer, head almost reaching his thighs, yelling, “Ladies and Gentlemen, Jeon Jungkook!”

A gold medal, hollow and chill against the skin of his chest, shone on Jungkook’s chest as he descended from the stage. His hands clutched a bouquet of flowers.

It was scary how a piece of metal was all it took to fill so many people with bliss.

“Ready?” His favourite Senior, Min Yoongi, called from his place beside on the pool’s freshly mopped floor.

His Hyung was barefoot, a camera perched on his right hand and Jungkook’s digital wrist watch fisted in his left.

They were making sure he was on par with his average timing. Winter break had made them slightly lazy, which had sent Jungkook’s mother into throes of distress. It had only been a week’s rest, but his family could not afford his losing the scholarship.

“Yup.”

Jungkook was not nervous. He was always perfect. The mere fact that he had to be up to pace with himself, instead of a rival, said a lot.

Staring at the end of the pool, he waited for the Yoongi’s signal with bated breath. It was still early in the morning. Yoongi wanted a picture of Jungkook in the water for the school newspaper- as he always did- but Jungkook was too fast for the job to be very easy. They would have to settle for a few deliberately slow laps after their field run.

It had been a surprise to find Yoongi complacent to his wishes. Usually, Yoongi would balk at the idea of being outside at four am- as anyone rightly should.

Their circumstances called for him to take an exception. The nights hours were booked for the membership services the pool held and every other moment of the day was subject to scrutiny from casual bystanders.

Jeon Jungkook and Min Yoongi were both averse to the concept of casual bystanders, so they settled for the freezing hours of the morning.

A loud raspy “Go!” sounded and Jungkook fell into the water with one smooth swoop.

His body folded, his head falling past his knees to level with his toes. The pool’s lighting caught the curves of his spine, subtle hints of toned muscle dancing beneath his skin. A deep languorous breath of draughty morning air and then came the tingle, the press of the water against the ridges of his body, tracing its hollows.

Yoongi whistled from his spot on the floor, eyes wide at the talent.

Jungkook glided under the water as if he were a dancer.

He was a body of raw, pulsing talent, sharpened to a product of finesse, the embodiment of a machine, his muscles remembering how to whisper against the cold kiss of the water. An exemplar he was- unrivalled, thriving.

There was a rhythm to movement, to moving underwater, and his body knew just how to pull it.

Jungkook was lazy enough not to think, the sleepiness from the night before weighing on his shoulders. Gaming had kept him a good two hours past his bedtime. It had been worth it, he thought, as he felt the end wall approaching. His brother had actually wailed when Jungkook had surpassed his score- never mind that they had only being playing Mario Kart.

He had to be careful. Sleeping through his classes could easily get his teachers on his back- meaning another collision with an angry Mrs. Jeon.

He opened his eyes, hoping the sting of bleach on his eyes would snap him awake.

Jungkook almost recoiled in shock from the sight waiting for him. He shut his eyes and opened them again, counting fives then tens under his breath as he realised that he was not alone under the water, that he was seeing a boy beside the end wall.

The boy had pale skin and auburn hair that spun around his head like a halo. He was still dressed.

Jungkook reached forward, wanting to ask the boy what he was doing at the public school pool, wanting to flit away the idea of him hallucinating a whole human being.

The boy flinched at the ghost of his touch, recoiling away from the swimmer, eyes wide and a stunning shade of brown that was unparalleled by autumn.

The boy’s lips made voiceless shapes against the water.

‘WHO-‘

Jungkook’s felt his breath go slightly shallow.

The air hit him like a rain of bullets as he rose above the surface with a gasp, records long forgotten.

He needed some good sleep, that was all. Sleep and maybe a good three hours of the National Geographic- nothing like baby manatees to release him from this fitful boisterous mood. He hated swimming. It was driving him crazy. Jungkook wanted to go home-

“Kid!”

Yoongi looked over at him, boxy glasses perched at the tip of his nose. He had ran all the way to the opposite side of the pool when his younger friend had failed to make his appearance on due time, the pep talk prepared to spill from his lips fading as he noticed Jungkook’s horrified expression.

Harsh breaths filled the silence of the pool building. Yoongi lent Jungkook his arms, offering support as the boy pushed himself to sit at the ledge of the water, his legs balanced at his lap, hands patting away the water in a way that made Yoongi wonder if he was afraid of it.

Yoongi felt Jungkook’s heartbeat slow under his hand. The kid’s mother was probably pressuring him again.

“Are you okay?”

Jungkook wished he was. He kept his stare fixated to the tips of his feet, unblinking.

“Nevermind, “ Yoongi mumbled, hooking his hands under Jungkook’s arms to pull him up. “That’s enough for today. You’re going to take a shower- we’ll come back when you feel like it...”

Jungkook listened to his brother, grateful but deaf to the words.

It was hard to think with the flickering image of the water aflame with someone’s hair.

God please, he thought, please let me be sane.

The day had been awful, his thoughts being congested by the imminent threat of insanity that pulled at his breath, suffocating him whenever he tried to think or speak of anything else. School corridors, the feet, the faces and the chaotic spin of limbs all descended to a single faceless blob that he waded in.

At lunch, he felt Hoseok nudge his foot from under the table, both him and Yoongi staring at Jungkook with that same concerned expression, which irked the younger boy beyond all ordinary means of measure.

He could not help it. All around him, his world was bristling, the people in it crumbling as if they were but made of paper.

To his left, Namjoon excitedly filled Yoongi in on the details of his latest summer essay assignment, Yoongi taking the words in with silent appreciation, sipping at his coffee and all. He had probably stayed up the night before, Jungkook thought, irrationally angry at Yoongi for it.

At all other occasions Jeon Jungkook held his highest respects for the photographer who held his passions in secret, tinkering songs at late hours, living the life of an underground rapper- right under his parents’ noses at that!

However, as of current, he was angry. Dread pooled in his stomach, reminding him of a time when his friends would all grow up and follow their dreams, leaving him behind in their small town.

What if this was it? What if he was going to go crazy and his mother would have to throw him into rehabilitation? What if his highest peak at life would be his measly high school status of being a swimmer boy, his future being utterly dull in comparison?

Jungkook offered Hoseok a timid smile in gratitude for the chips his friend was thrusting across the table his mind caught up in another place, a song of failures running through his ears, an anxious thrum against his veins.

In Year Nine, they had studied the Great Gatsby for English Literature. Jungkook remembers his teacher’s weary smile as she read the words, ‘ one of those men who reach such an acute limited excellence at twenty-one that everything afterwards savours of anti-climax’.

Yoongi had mentioned Jungkook’s first dishevelled moment in the water to Jungkook’s older brother, Seokjin, who mentioned it at their dinner table, bringing the entire dinner meal to utter chaos.

“How could you, Mom? Look at him! He’s barely touching his food.”

Jungkook reached for a piece of chicken as his mother glanced at him, her eyes wide with worry and guilt. Glancing at the look on his mother’s face, Jungkook’s heart stopped at his throat.

“It’s not like that-“

“No more excuses, Jungkook, “ Seokjin declared crossly. “You don’t have to lie to Mom.”

His little sister, Soyeon peeked at him from under the precipitous strands of noodles hanging off her folk. At first she had been glad that the conversation had drifted away from her newly blond hair, but now, catching the worry on her brothers’ faces, the panic etched onto them, she concluded that she would have preferred herself taking the brunt of their mother’s wrath instead of all this worry.

“I just-“

“Just what, Jungkook?” His mother asked him, her voice calm but her features wrung in hurt. She had never meant for things to turn out as they had. She would never, never pressure her son into holding something bigger than him. Not her son, she told herself. She just knew in her heart that Jungkook had potential- that was all.

“I just wanted to enjoy the water. Yoongi Hyung just overreacted. It’s been a while since, I really...”

And the lies dribbled out of his tongue like honey, the others reacting to it just the way he wanted them to, eyes warm and heart open.

They tried their best to make him enjoy the water again. His mother would wait for him behind the steering wheel of their Nissan, her face glowing with the balmy sunscreen she had on. Sometimes, she would even get Seokjin or Soyeon to join them, but it was mostly the two of them, just like it had always been when Jungkook had been growing up.

Jungkook sat at the ledge of the pool, the soles of his feet already pruned against the water.

“Show us some of your stuff!” Hoseok cheered from his seat beside Yoongi on the pavilion.

Yoongi nodded solemnly, his nose the tip of his nose endearingly white.

“Do the butterfly- the wiggle worm when you make the corner!” Namjoon yelled, his mouth filled with chips.

Jungkook grinned. The cold morning wind felt icy against his cheeks. Across him was a reflection of himself in the water, all broad shouldered and thin waisted.

‘Swimmer body,’ his mother said to her guests, her hair a neat chignon at the nape of her neck. ‘My handsome, talented boy.’

The rest of them, the women with the knitting and the too loud laughter, chortled in response, oohing at Jungkook’s abashed expression. Seokjin whined about favouritism and their mother just smiled, her eyes alight with a happiness that could only be refuted with the words ‘Jungkook’ and ’Swimmer’.

Before he could overthink it, he rose to his full height, smiling at the smell of Namjoon’s Pringles, knowing how it went against pool policy.

“Here I go,” He said with his back to them. They hooted in response and he was under water.

The rhythm came to him slowly. His legs fell back and straight, his arms long and wide as he began to chant inside the confines of his head, ‘faster, faster...’

Like a miracle he swept through the water, feeling its cool touch on his skin as he made laps.

One.

The muscles of his legs and abdomen tingled with the work he was putting them through.

Two.

His eyes were open under his goggles. He could see the blue tile of the pool, the skin of his hands pale and flawless under the water as he reached for it.

Three.

His friends’ laughter had faded to become a backdrop.

There was a roaring in his ears and just like that, the boy was back.

Jungkook was closer than he had been when they first met.

He was no longer startled by the apparition, having grown used to seeing him in the town’s public pool. In fact, the boy was now almost a comfort, his halloween themed hair a pretty halo around his head, water clinging to the tips of his eyelashes.

The boy looked up at Jungkook, his arms outstretched towards him. It was strange how the boy’s clothes did not cling to him, despite them being underwater.

Jungkook gave him a light nod as he took off on another round. He had little time for gaping, his friends were waiting for him and he had class after practice.

From his place gliding on the surface of the water, buoyed by his arms and legs, it was amusing to Jungkook how adamant the other boy was underneath him. No matter how fast he went, the boy was always there, either beside him or under him, swimming with him.

Today the boy looked like he was struggling to be noticed. He waved his arms and tried to tear at Jungkook’s torso, scowling as he did.

Jungkook did not let him. There was too much to do in too little time. What did it matter that there was a ghost attempting to get him a concussion mid-swim?

All he needed to do was get his work done- without paying attention to his hallucinations.

Suddenly, he felt a light kick hit him square on the stomach.

He turned to the source in surprise, his mouth stupidly falling open in surprise. Water gorged its way into his throat. He felt himself fold in half before gently rising to the surface of the water.

A minute before his hair rose above the surface line, he was shoved back in the water.

The boy was onto him, an apparition, a demon under the water.

Jungkook closed his eyes and attempted to kick away at it. He clawed at its arms and possibly at its face but it stuck to him, unmovable even by force.

His vision darkened, his muscles slackening. He had to get some air.

He made a second futile struggle against the boy’s hold, only to for the boy to strike his forehead against Jungkook’s as if in exasperation. The boy’s hands came to lie flat against his cheeks.

‘What do you want?’ He mouthed against the water.

How was he still breathing?

The boy used his fingers to push Jungkook’s eyelids shut, moving to wrap his arms around Jungkook’s neck, a strangle hold that treaded the blurry line between love and suffocation.

With the ghost touch of the boy’s lips against the bones of his ear, he heard a voice, soft and saccharine, whisper, ‘I am Jimin.’

With the fleeting image of warm fires and sweet-stained teeth, they fell on forth to a place beyond the world they knew.

The water gurgled around them as they descended to a time that was unbidden by the smell of chlorine, the shouts from across the bleachers.

Jungkook was suddenly at his grandparent’s lake house- the same grandparents who had not spared them an inch of their money when Jungkook’s parents had come very close to rock bottom. He saw his mother on the wooden patio of the house, her legs a honey tan against the balking heat of the sun. Seokjin lay back on his elbows, half-asleep with a lollipop stuck to his mouth as his mother droned on about a story he had to read for school. Even at thirteen, Seokjin’s face drew looks.

There was an unconventional order to his face, its planes moulded high below his eyes that gleamed darkly against the light and the blue misty quality of that morning.

Jungkook saw himself stand up next to his sister who had been braiding his hair into misshapen knots.

His younger self radiated warmth. There was a scar on his cheek from when he had fought with Seokjin for the game controller a week before. His hair fell over his ears, tufts of it bouncing as he made his way across the wooden planks.

Jungkook watched himself in awe. He saw the way he clenched his eyes shut, at eight dismissive of the obvious- he couldn’t swim, his brother could barely- and indulgent of impulse.

Soyeon noticed a second too late, screaming for Seokjin as Jungkook fell in headfirst, with a giant smile on his face as he went.

Jimin fixed Jungkook with a pointed stare before tugging at his hand and making them both fall into the water. It was almost like they were chasing his younger self, Jungkook thought in amusement.

Above them Jungkook’s mother was yelling for their uncle to hurry up.

‘Are you crazy? I can’t send Seokjin inside a lake- he can barely make it to the deep side of the pool! Hurry up, Jungkook is inside, you lazy bastard-‘

Soyeon gasped. Seokjin stared at his toes, ashamed.

Jimin giggled from his place next to Jungkook on the muddy shallows of the lake. Jungkook stared at his younger self, watching how his legs made their way to hold him afloat, his hands first thrashing before coming to calming to make slow sweeps against the water.

Around them, the water was muddy from the dirt and uncontrolled growth of plants. Fish swum under and around his younger self, who kicked against the water with the familiarity of a swimmer. Sunlight shed its way through the water and Jungkook’s family would soon gape in awe at the boy who saved himself, his mother rushing to slap him on the face before hugging him flush to her chest.

“Why?” Jungkook asked, turning to Jimin with his hair sticking to his temples.

“You needed to remember.”

With that came whole summers of their time together. All practices were spent in some grand place in Switzerland or subtropical Asia. Jimin took them to pools, to lakes and even someone’s artificial waterfall, loose limbed in a manner that insisted he took all these visits, these moments of water and sunlight, in stride.

Today they were manoeuvring through a river, Jungkook in his speedos- as he always was- and Jimin his brand of stripes and tight jeans.

They were above water for once, so Jungkook could see the minor imperfections across the other boy’s figure, the scar under his ear, the scabs on his arms and legs.

He supposed it was nice, being allowed to see so much.

Over time, his performance grew into an even higher brand of grace. Jungkook was no longer simply a record-setter, he was a work of art. Photographers and journalists came to see him, captivated by the idea of a boy enigma, someone who swam like he resembled water.

He found himself needing Jimin less, the memory of that day in the lake pushing him far and wide.

However, Jungkook grew worried when he never saw Jimin after he left for college on another swimmer scholarship.

He tried everything, from calling out for Jimin under water- choking on it as he did- , to visiting local lakes and hot springs, to communing to flames about a boy in a public pool.

The other boy did not appear. He had vanished without leaving a trace. The worst part of it all was that Jungkook couldn’t ask anyone about it.

His roommate, Namjoon, worried about his health. Jungkook began to find treats left for him on his bed, tea and biscuits, then incense. When he asked Namjoon for it on one of their joint study sessions, Namjoon had simply pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, shaking his head.

“You’re always looking so worried. You rarely sleep, it’s like you’re panting for breath...” He had said one night, “Tell me how I can help you. How can I make this better for you? Please, I feel useless.”

It was on his break back in Busan that he decided to try the public pool again, and like the apparition he was, Jimin showed up again, his face alight with a smile in full bloom.

“Why me?”

“I’ve always watched you,” Jimin would say, his fingers drumming against the inside of Jungkook’s wrist.

“And that totally not creepy,” Jungkook added laughing silently.

They were at the bakehouse again, the light pressing against Jimin’s skin, the contours of his face basking in it.

Jungkook fell sideways as Jimin shoved him.

The truth was painful and clichéd.

Jungkook would know of it later.

A predecessor to his swimmer status, he would learn from a journalist, was a certain Park Jimin of the fifties. Pressured to the brim, Jungkook was told, Jimin swam like the water was a myriad wind pushing him back and forth to where he needed to be.

‘How did he pass?’ Jungkook would inquire, discomfited by how antsy the journalist had gotten at the mention of the boy’s death.

‘He-he had mental issues. Went with the water, the public pool. People didn’t visit it for ages, only going after it was retiled for renovation.’

On asking Jimin, he would find himself watching a boy in a hoodie and speedos in the back of a friend’s cab, counting the moments left in the pretence of nodding to the song’s beat. The friend’s voice sounded ominous inside the vestiges of the car, smooth and deep as he sang about heartbreak and sweethearts.

Jimin would hug his friend before they depart, his voice a whisper as he said, ‘Take care Tae.’

Jungkook saw the fading skyline, the slam of fury as his Jimin’s eyes were forced to squeeze shut, his muscles twitching as it tried to escape from the hold he had over them. The slackening, the peace, Jungkook saw it all with tears streaming down his cheeks.

He felt the ghost of Jimin’s lips against his cheek as they were pulled back to the present, “You were better, stronger than I had ever been.”

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niigoki · 7 years ago

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STEVEN UNIVERSE Title: Aurora - Chapter 3 Rated: M Read on Ao3 or FanFiction

“Hey, careful, you’re gonna fall!” Greg got up, leaving his tiny garden to help his son balance himself on the roof of their simple home.

“It’s okay dad, I’ve been practicing. Look!” Steven spread both his arms and lifted one leg, looking up. His body shook a little, but eventually he managed to achieve a perfect form, balancing himself on one foot. “See?”

“That’s impressive,” Greg smiled crookedly, still nearby in case he accidentally fell. “What exactly are you doing again?”

“Lapis told me that warriors need to be strong, have good reflexes, and be able to balance themselves in battle. Since I’m not that strong or quick, I thought that balance would be a good one to try and follow!” He answered with a smile and a wobble.

“I don’t think that’s the kind of balance she was talking about, little man.” Greg laughed in return and put his arms up. “Come back down, please?”

Steven finally obeyed and jumped into his father’s arms, laughing. When Greg settled him back on the ground, he ruffled his hair and returned to his garden. “So, about this whole… ‘becoming a warrior’ thing…”

“Come on dad, we talked about this.” Steven moved to his father’s side and sat down, watching him work. “Lapis is going to need me out there. I promise I’ll stay safe.”

“Still, if I could just go with you…”

“You know you can’t,” Steven averted his eyes, sighing on the inside. “You need to stay here and take care of everyone once we’re gone. People trust you around here.”

“Yeah… I suppose,” Greg’s voice always faltered when they talked about this, and Steven hated to be the one making his dad worry. Still, it’s not like it could be helped; he had an important mission that would most likely save everyone’s lives. There wasn’t a choice in the matter.

Steven was about to continue the conversation when his eyes caught the new girl going somewhere. Peridot was her name? She seemed to be distressed and Lapis was nowhere to be seen, so Steven got up, his instincts telling him to talk to her. “I’ll be right back, dad.”

Approaching the girl, Steven noticed her strong and quick steps and slouched back. She was very short in stature, her blonde hair disheveled as if it hadn’t been brushed in ages, and her pale skin full of dark bruises. Steven’s chest constricted in worry – that girl seemed to have gone through a lot.

“Hey! Peridot!” Steven yelled and the girl flinched, looking back at him. “Hi! Sorry to disturb you, but you looked a little lost.”

“I’m fine.” Peridot grunted, and started walking again. She was not in the mood to baby a child, specially a cheerful one like that boy. Her head was a mess and she wanted to punch something until feeling her hands break apart, and if Steven didn’t leave her alone, he would probably be her target for said punches.

“Well… let me be your guide regardless. I’m Steven! Steven Universe.” His smile was honest and annoying.

“Didn’t ask.”

“Aww, come on. I’m sure we can be friends,” He wasn’t going to let her off the hook, was he? “The whole village is really nice if you give it a chance!”

Peridot growled lowly, walking faster. Steven picked up his pace, and even with his short stubby legs, he was quite fast. “Look, just leave me the fuck alone.”

“Well… I can’t do that unless you promise to not leave.”

“Why? I never asked to be here. That beast,” Despite her anger, Peridot felt a tad guilty calling Lapis that. “Brought me here without my consent.”

That’s when Steven stepped in front of her, making Peridot almost crash into him. That forced her to stop and she was about to push him out of the way, when she saw his expression. His smile was gone and he stared at her with serious eyes. “Don’t call her that.”

They looked at each other in silence for a moment, then Peridot averted her eyes, grunting. “…Whatever.”

“Lapis saved my life. Our lives. I won’t let you badmouth her like that.” Steven took a step forward, making Peridot backup. “Didn’t she save your life as well?”

“Yes. She did.” She looked back at the boy, hovering over him and almost spitting in his face. “That’s exactly why I hate her.”

“What…?”

“She was supposed to kill me, not save me.”

Steven blinked, extremely confused. He opened his mouth once, then twice, but closed it at last, speechless. In all those years he’s been there, no one had been this hostile towards Lapis. People saw her as everyone’s savior; they practically worshiped her. Whenever Lapis came out of her house, there was always someone outside with a gift for her. She was the kindest and most selfless person Steven has ever met, and watching someone get angry at her made his heart ache.

“I don’t understand…” The poor boy was lost and Peridot rolled her eyes, walking past him again.

“Didn’t expect you to.”

This time he stood rooted in place, disheartened at the new girl. When he was about to give up, something clicked in his brain and he tried one last attempt, loudly. “Want to know what my curse is?”

Peridot stopped. She didn’t turn around, but Steven could feel that he’d gotten through to her. Confident again, he walked past her, grabbing her sleeve. “Follow me.”

She grunted the whole way, but followed.

One of the borders of the village led to a cliff, thousands of feet above the ground. Underneath it, the endless forest seemed to continue – either that or the fog was green. Peridot heaved as she sat down next to Steven at the edge of the cliff; the climb was pretty long and she wasn’t exactly in top shape.

“You good?” Steven asked with a hint of a laugh in his voice.

“Peachy.” Peridot had learned to take that question as ironic. Anyone who looked at her could tell that ‘good’ was the last thing she would ever be.

“Hang in there.” With a comfortable sigh, Steven rocked his little feet back and forth, looking down at the miles and miles of trees. “I love the view from here.”

Finally regaining her breath, Peridot stared down and wondered if a fall that big would perhaps do the trick. The thought vanished as soon as it came, though – of course it wouldn’t. She rolled her eyes at the kid’s optimism. “Why is that?”

“It makes me feel like the world is much bigger than I thought,” Steven’s eyes became melancholic. “When I lived back at the village, I thought that there was nothing else out there. Didn’t you?”

The answer was yes, but she just shrugged.

“Then Lapis came along and expanded my little world.” Steven continued. “She was the one who first brought me to this cliff, too. I was terrified of it at first. Realizing that there is so much out there was scary.”

“There is too much out there.” Peridot retorted bitterly. She thought about the Blue Sorceress and how she came from beyond the borders of the village. If it wasn’t for whatever was out there, Peridot would’ve been able to cease her suffering a long time ago. The fact that her salvation had also been waiting for her out there for a long time, but without ever contacting her, made her even angrier.

“Well… that’s one way to see it, I guess.” Steven pondered, a hand on his chin. “Every time someone new comes along, people get excited to meet them. Sometimes it’s a friend they knew. Most times it’s just a stranger full of hope for a new, good life.”

“Did you drag me out here to give me a lecture on why I should put your precious little utopia on a pedestal?” Peridot was tired and frustrated, and this child wasn’t helping her calm her nerves.

“N-no, no!” Steven stuttered, blushing. “I’m sorry. I will tell you about my curse.” He took a deep breath and looked down at his hands. “My curse comes from my touch. Everything these hands touch… die.”

In a split second, Peridot widened her eyes, grabbed Steven’s wrists, and brought his hands to her chest. The kid blinked, surprised, and tried to pull them back. When nothing happened, Peridot frowned. “Is there a time limit, or something?”

“W-what? No, it doesn’t work on people. J-just animals and plants.” Steven was visibly scared by the way she had reacted, then he remembered what she’d said earlier about wanting Lapis to kill her. “You… you really meant it when you said you were angry that Lapis saved your life, huh?”

Peridot sighed, releasing Steven’s wrists. “Do I really look like I’m kidding?”

“Not at all…” An awkward silence settled in between them and Steven fidgeted. He opened his mouth, but thought about it and didn’t say anything.

With another exasperate sigh, Peridot mumbled. “Go ahead. Ask.”

“What is your curse, Peridot?”

For some reason, her body felt extremely tired all of a sudden. Explaining things to Lapis was already exhausting enough, now she had to do it again. Peridot didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to live with it – but she didn’t have a choice on that matter.

“Life is my curse.” She said simply, letting herself fall backwards and hitting the dirt. The sky was clean, with no trace of another incoming snowstorm and Peridot closed her eyes to feel the air around her. “I’ve lived for a hundred years and I’m not allowed to die. That’s what the sorceress did to me.”

“Which one?”

“Huh?”

“Which sorceress? Blue, Yellow?” Steven swallowed. “White?”

Peridot didn’t understand the relevance of this question, but if the kid had brought it up then he probably knew something she didn’t. “It was a woman covered by a blue veil, so I suppose it was Blue.”

“Oh, good.” He seemed relieved and Peridot sat back up, staring angrily at him. “I m-mean, at least it wasn’t White! She is the most ruthless of them all.”

An avalanche of anger washed over Peridot and she grit her teeth.

“So making me wander pointlessly through life was the best option?” She could hardly believe what that kid was saying. He had no idea what she’d been through – he couldn’t even fathom the pain and despair she’d felt for all those years, and now he was saying that it could’ve been worse? “Forcing me to wake up every day and see the worst humanity has to offer was a blessing? Is that what you’re saying?!”

With each word she crawled closer and Steven looked down from the cliff, almost losing his balance; he had to think quickly or else this clearly emotionally unstable girl would make them both fall. The difference is that Steven would not survive. “I’m just saying that she’s the easiest one to kill!”

The silence after that was jarring and he covered his mouth with both hands. Peridot froze on her spot, staring at him with confused eyes. “What?”

“N-nothing, forget I said any—”

With a quick move she grabbed him by the collar and pushed him off the edge. The only thing stopping Steven from a thousand feet fall was the trembling hand of an angry girl. “Speak.”

“O-okay, okay!” He held onto her with every fiber of his being, heart pounding on his chest. “Lapis has this idea of f-forming an army and going after the Sorceresses! S-she was recruiting people from the village. She has this diary f-from her dad, a Witch Hunter, and there are lots of information about how to kill mythical creatures in there! Lapis said that killing the sorceress who cursed you would free you from the curse. S-so in your case, killing Blue!”

That was a lot to process and Peridot almost let Steven fall. He yelled, grabbing her attention again and she pulled him back to the safety of the ground. Steven panted, still a trembling mess, and looked up at the girl. Peridot’s eyes were unfocused, as if her brain was working a thousand miles per hour; plans, ideas, and maybe a tiny bit of hope crossed her mind, and she bit her lip. Ultimately, she knew what she wanted to do with this information, and finally got up, leaving Steven behind.

“Wait!” He tried to get up, but his trembling legs wouldn’t let him. His body was still processing the shock of almost dying and was not responding correctly. “Peridot!”

But it was useless. It didn’t take long for her to be out of his sight, and Steven took a deep breath. “…Way to go, warrior.”

Despite the curious eyes following her every step, Peridot forced herself to ignore the growing paranoia in her mind and focus on getting to her destination. There was a driving force guiding her for the first time in her life, and she wasn’t about to let it slip. She finally had a chance to end this miserable existence of hers, and she was going to make damn sure that it was not wasted.

Arriving at Lapis’ house, she opened the door without knocking. The blue-haired girl was sitting at the same exact position she was on when Peridot left, and looked up from the book she was reading.

“Peridot,” She looked surprised to see her back so soon after her outburst. “I thought you left.”

“I—” Her throat was really dry and she felt a bit awkward suddenly. It felt like the last words they had exchanged were still hanging around them, and for some reason this didn’t settle down nicely with Peridot. She pushed the feeling away, concentrating on her purpose. “I was going to. Then this boy made me stay.”

“Steven?” Lapis blinked.

“Yes.” Peridot closed the door behind her. “He told me about your army.”

Lapis’ eyes widened then, but before she could say anything, Peridot interjected.

“I want in.”

And she waited for the convoluted argument that she was sure was going to follow her sentence. First, Lapis would stare at her broken, skinny body from head to toe and probably laugh at how pathetic her physical condition was. Then Peridot would yell at her some guilt-tripping excuse like ‘you did this to me, you own me.’, followed by Lapis’ denial, and ultimately, her begrudgingly acceptance. The scenario was clear in her head.

But what happened instead was:

“Okay.”

Peridot blinked, surprised. “…Okay?”

Lapis closed her book and got up with a sigh. She took her time putting it back on the top shelf of her bookcase, then turned around, walking towards her. There was something inherently intimidating about the wolf, Peridot noticed. Her legs trembled suddenly, but she refused to back down from her decision.

Lapis stopped nearly nose-to-nose with her, the gleam of a challenge in her yellow, glowing eyes. “Okay.”

Her breath was warm against Peridot’s lips and she swallowed, still not breaking contact. “Okay.”

They stood there for a couple of seconds before Lapis broke the hypnotizing gaze, turning around. Then out of nowhere, she turned back, pouncing on her.

Peridot grunted with the sudden weight on her chest as she fell back and hit her head on the floor. It hurt, and she was caught off guard by how heavy Lapis was – it was the weight of the wolf, but inside a human body. “What the hell??”

“There are things a lot quicker than me out there.” Lapis’ voice was low and husky, and a predatory aura enveloped her body. “Tiny, almost imperceptible at night. Sharp teeth that will puncture your flesh like it’s foam.”

“Don’t…” Peridot’s lungs were squished and she struggled to speak. “Don’t care.”

“They’re all curses. Meaning they will be able to kill you.”

“So far I don’t see a downside to this.”

“Do you want to die pathetically by the hands of cursed rodents, or do you want to get your revenge on the one who did this to you?”

The question floated in the air for a long time, the hesitation clear. Finally, Peridot spoke, grabbing one of Lapis’ arms. “I’ll kill Blue myself.” Then the other. “And then I’ll throw myself out of that goddamn cliff.” She had never said anything with such conviction before.

Apparently convinced, Lapis finally got up, pulling Peridot with her. The blonde coughed and inhaled deeply, dizzy from the rough fall. She looked at Lapis, who crouched behind her table to grab something; she emerged with a piece of blue fabric and threw it to Peridot, who caught it in the air.

“Welcome to the army, warrior.”

Peridot stared at the fabric and almost laughed. “Blue because of your hair?”

“Blue because that’s who you’re gonna kill.”

That’s when Peridot smirked, earning the same from the wolf in front of her.

#lapidot #steven universe #aurora fic #my fic #lapis lazuli #peridot

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