This is my first contribution to @badthingshappenbingo!! I don’t think this is super angsty or anything, but I assure you it will definitely get more angsty in different fics. For this board at least, I’m not doing requests, however that is possible to change for the next board (which I will be requesting once I’m done!).
Characters: Skylar Clark & Aaron Serrano (cameo from Luke Erikson)
Fandom: The Natvian Chronicles (A/N: Everything that I write for BTHB is not canon (story wise), and should not be taken as such.
Skylar awoke to the feeling of stickiness in her lungs. For a moment she couldn’t breath—her lungs struggled to bring in air—and she couldn’t help but wonder just where in the world was she?
As she continued to try finding a steady breath, she felt the warm bed under her. It was so different than the cold stone floor she had lain upon the past few months. At least, she thought it was months, time really stopped existing when you became property.
She coughed, her throat alighting with searing pain. Something dripped down the corner of her mouth—blood or mucus—she wasn’t sure. Skylar had finally begun to find a steady breathing rhythm, though it was still painful. The rest of her body ached, a dull thrumming pain that made her head spin.
In what seemed distant, she heard the creak of a door. It almost sounded familiar. Footsteps—someone was approaching her bed. She tensed, wishing she had a dagger in her hand. With no other option, she closed her eyes, pretending to sleep.
Feeling the presence of the other person before her—which she could barely read—she waited for what they were going to do. Maybe kill her? Or perhaps poison her? It was sad to say either would have been fine at that point. Skylar got ready for what she believed would be a painful end—
But instead, she felt hands.
Gentle hands, and a soft towel. The person wiped away whatever she had coughed up, and they smoothed her hair back. Then—without warning—a cool, damp cloth was being pressed on her forehead. She felt the droplets of water roll down her face and into her hair, the coolness soothing her fiery skin.
They were speaking, softly, words in a language she had heard before but not understood. The voice was male, and like everything else—oddly familiar. She felt an odd chill run down her spine. Everything felt oddly familiar, like she was wearing a coat she hadn’t worn in ages—known but untouched.
The door creaked open again, and another person walked in. Their heavy footsteps finally stopping in front of the bed.
“She’s been out of long time, hasn’t she?”
Again, another familiar voice. Just where in the world was she?
“Yeah, about a week. Jacob says the poison had already spread to a majority of her body—he says that we were lucky we found her when we did. She would’ve died if she didn’t get the treatment when she did.”
“…You were worried, weren’t you, Aaron?”
Aaron.
Her Aaron.
She was home. Skylar was home.
Skylar let out a shaky breath, hacking up violently. She felt the hands—no—his hands pause, and both sets of eyes were on her.
“Is she alright?” Luke asked.
“I…I don’t know. I think she’s still flushing the poison out of her bo—
He stopped speaking when she opened her eyes and began trying to sit up. Her vision swam, fading in and out—but she couldn’t help but smile at them both despite the struggle.
Luke looked like he usually did from what she could tell—a gruff, stubborn asshole. But she noticed the smirk on his lips, and it wasn’t difficult to see the happiness on his face—in his own, asshole way of course. Skylar then shifted her focus to Aaron, who looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks. Deep bags rested under his eyes, his eyebrows were knit with worry.
“I’m…gonna—you know…go.” Luke shifted on his feet, watching the two of them for a moment, before turning around and shutting the door behind him. She and Aaron were alone.
For Skylar, his eyes had always been easy to read, he was awful at hiding his emotions. But right then, as he continued to look at her, she couldn’t read him at all.
She coughed repeatedly again, her throat blistering in pain. Something came out of her mouth again, slowly trickling down her lips. Skylar screwed up her eyes, refusing to look at Aaron as she went through this. Her head swayed, and she knew she had blacked for a moment out because the next thing she knew—she was laying down again.
“Here, hold on.” Aaron grimaced, and she soon felt the soft towel wiping at her face again. She groaned, the pounding in her head coming back louder than before. The cool cloth being pressed to her head did little to ease the pain.
Aaron heaved a heavy sigh, like he was releasing all of his frustration & sorrow with the world. Her heart began to ache, guilt clawing at her back like a stab wound. He never deserved to see her like this, he didn’t deserve to feel pain over her.
Though she failed the first couple of tries, she managed to lift her arm—just enough to reach his own forearm. Aaron stared at the sick hand, confusion flooding in his eyes. She managed a light squeeze, before allowing her hand to drop.
He hesitated for a moment, staring at it—before taking her hand in his own. He seemed to study it, and Skylar didn’t fail to notice his eyes had become glossier.
“Gods, Skylar. I…I’m…damn, I can’t believe what you’ve been through.” He choked, before fiercely rubbing his eyes. “…I was terrified. I couldn’t—wouldn’t believe you were dead.” He paused, taking in a deep breath before continuing. “…Sean & Kyle were the ones who found you. Apparently, you were deep in the forest outside of Unity. I’m not going to ask you anything now…honestly I’m just relieved you’re alive.”
He looked up from her hand to her face, hesitating to say something. Before he could get the words out, Skylar managed to squeeze his hand, smiling at him. “I’m…can we…can you stay with me until I sleep again?”
Aaron, for a moment, said nothing. He shifted in the chair he was sitting in, adjusting the grip on her hand. But then he let out a soft smile and nodded. “Sure thing, Sky. I’ll stay as long as you want me to. Though I will have to get Jacob soon, so he can check up on you.”
She nodded, still hurting, but content as he sat beside her. The two settled into comfortable silence. Skylar felt herself falling deeper into sleep—the presence of her friend soothing her nerves. At times she felt him look at her, and his fingers continued to play with her hand.
It felt like hours had passed, but she was sure it was mere minutes. Her eyes became heavier, the warmth of the bed whisking her away to rest. She believed she heard voices, distant and faraway in the land of the awake. Skylar smiled, recognizing the voices of her comrades. But greeting them would have to come for another day—
"Sometimes I get really annoyed with those “types of people” posts (though I do still love them), because you feel like you can only be one type of person, that you’re cheating if you see yourself in all of them.
People change, one day you might feel like sunshine and open fields and sweet sugar, and the next you might feel like murky ocean depths and dark nights and roaring thunder. You cannot be defined as one type of person. We all feel things, and react to things differently.
Sometimes you feel like you’re a fire. You feel the heat in your veins and see the red in your vision as your anger rages. Your blood boils as you scream with a scratchy throat about whatever is outraging you in the moment. Or, on the contrary, what you’re excited about. You could have a burning passion for life, for God, for the good things. But you can also have a burning anger, a raging inferno of emotions that lead to destruction. Both are still fire, and both are still apart of you.
Sometimes, the idea of water might suit your fancy. You ebb and flow, molding into your new surroundings as easily as you breath. Life’s a journey, and you’re just along for the ride. You can be deep and mysterious, full of the unknown. You can also be raging, with salty tears dripping onto your lips as you yell brokenly. Water is many things, and so you can be any things. You can be easy, or you can be harsh. You can be the splash of creek water, or the rumble of the mighty ocean. But you always follow where life takes you. You are, at that moment, water.
Air might be more appealing to you at times. Air is free and light, but also vital to the survival of life. You could be easy, doing things on impulse, and laughing about the silliest of jokes. Many feel your caress, but a few know where you are right now, or who you are. They just know they need to see you again. You are always moving, always changing, but still with a smile. You dance because you can, and you travel because you want to. So, for a while, you are air.
Eventually, you will be Earth. Earth is solid, stable, a sense of home in a world of wind. You are a pillar to others, a pillar of strength and of home. You take many in, and allow them to heal and grow in your presence. You are kind, but you are stubborn. No means no, and tradition means tradition. Change is not always welcome, but it is inevitable, so you weather the storms it brings, and take in those who need your stillness. One day, you will become someone's Earth, even if they leave you in the end.
You will definitely be sunshine at some point. You will shine with love, and many will bask in your presence. You will feel the love of life and God in every fiber of your being, and that love will spread to others. Your giggle is infectious, and your smile seems to lift up the world from its troubles. You find many at peace in your presence, and you will have pulled many out of the darkness. At times you will be hot, too hot for life, for your passions. People will leave for the shade, but they will come back eventually, after all, you are the sun.
Also, you will definitely be darkness. You will be the quiet shadows in the darkest rooms, your body numb, your mind racing with thoughts you’d rather not let out into the sun. A part of you will want to die, and another part of you will scream at you to live. You don't know what to believe, and feel as if God has long since left you to rot. You will find many around you, suffering from the storms of life. Together you will huddle in the darkness, some leaving for the light, only for new faces to stay in. One day, you will get out of the darkness, everyone does. But the darkness is something you will never forget, and it will have shaped you into a new human.
What do I mean by all of this?
This is not a, “choose one” sort of deal, not entirely. You see, we are all of these things, at one point or another. Some days, you might feel like you’re just one of these, others you might feel that your all of them. And that’s okay, for we are not merely one person. We are not just “sunshine” or “darkness”, not “earth” or “air”. It is not an either or scenario, in the end, we are human, and we sometimes be the sun, and we might be the moon, or we might be both.
But never forget, in the end, you are a cosmos of emotions and feelings, of dreams and experiences.
SETTING: Mistport, pop. 5045. located right at the edge of the pacific atop some cliffs. known for the heavy, year round, fog-like mist coming from the still lake on the outskirts of town, beyond a dense forest.
POV: third person
AESTHETIC: Solid grey skies, fog covered ground, a still lake, shifting eyes, drinks with too much alcohol, slow dancing in a graveyard, the awkwardness of not knowing an inside joke, laughing too loudly, the sensation of being watched, a silhouette in your periphery, the silence of a funeral.
SUMMARY/EXCERPT:
Malory Law wakes up and knows she died.
She isn’t dead now; the ache in her lungs as they relearn how to breathe, the stiffness of her post-rigor mortis limbs, and the thud of a desperate heart in her ribcage are irrefutable claims that she is alive. But she had been dead, and it had been recent—more than three days, maybe less than a week but—
Malory pauses, frowns. Tries to think back, but only gets frustration and a headache for her efforts. Her memory refuses to go further than thirty seconds prior.
When had she died? Even more pressing, why can’t Malory remember it?
MAIN CHARACTERS:
Malory Law - a woman touched by death, running from a haunting past. owner of the Mug Shot Espresso Café.
Emrys Vox - neighbourhood association president. Cold but efficient. Likes order.
Tempest Vox - Emrys Vox’s son and Daiki’s bf. Standoffish and a bit mean.
Indigo Gray - detective on Lord Castle's murder investigation, customer at Malory’s café. Straightlaced but a hoe.
Emerald Copper - detective on Lord Castle's murder investigation, customer at Malory’s café. Clumsy and a bit awkward.
Sapphire Copper - Emerald Copper’s younger brother, employee at the Mug Shot Espresso Café. Loves mysteries.
Nike Chaplain - assistant to the Mayor, Daiki Chaplain’s sister. Friendly and outgoing.
Mistport, pop. 5045 (Aug. 2025). Located right at the edge of the pacific atop some cliffs, known for the heavy, year round fog-like mist coming from the lake on the outskirts of town, beyond the dense forest.
“Mistport was officially on only one map in the world, and that map was currently ashes within the hollowed remains of a burnt house. Past a bridge that never lowered unless it was necessary, and a lake so large and so deep and so still the mist rolling off its surface gave the town its name more than 100 years prior. The people that lived here made their living off each other, the mayor got funding one way or another, and peace reigned because nobody questioned anybody.
"Outsiders came but rarely; the last was Malory and before that was the man that owned Mug Shot Espresso Café for 15 years, before succumbing to his smoking addiction and the paranoia the town bore down on him. They ignored Lord Castle and his tendencies to eat young women (it was not often; once every few years was just enough to keep people quiet) and they ignored the way the lake sometimes moaned, and the fact that nobody went into the forest. They ignored Malory when she first arrived, and ignored her questions until she stopped asking, and soon she began to ignore the eyes on her back, and the strange neighbours, and the screams that came on full moons.”
Her father’s golden eyes were twinkling when they took in her appearance, and Asteria raised an eyebrow, silently daring him to question it. Instead he only clapped twice, and on cue the backdoor opened, two servants coming in with cheerful ‘good mornings’ and trays of food. They served steaming rolls of bread, slices of thick, well browned meat, fluffy white eggs with yellow suns in the center, and a bowl of freshly cut fruit still sparkling with water. A glass of juice was served to each of them along with a pitcher of water, of which both servants took sips before handing over the glassware.
As fast as they had come they were gone, and breakfast was served.
Asteria waited until her father took his first bite before bursting her yolk with the tip of her fork, letting the yellow run before dipping her bread in and taking a big bite. It was harmony to her taste buds; she closed her eyes as a sigh of bliss left her. Asteria rejoiced in the taste of something that was not fish or sea grapes.
Been trying out my hand at being more descriptive, so I wrote about food. Asteria's been wanting some from the first page, so I hope I did her hunger justice.
Rules: Do you ever write a line that just feels so right? Pick five of your favorite lines you’ve written and share them. They can be recent or years old, doesn’t matter. Then tag five people.
From Raison D'être:
Last time it was out of her control, free falling from a height she can't even begin to fathom mind and body pushed to the very limits; tethered to the land of the living only by the bite of her jaw and her broken, bloody fingernails.
From a series of drabbles I was working on years ago:
Wrath is never quietly forgotten, and the gods are seldom absentminded.
From The Study of Angels:
“They sent you here to die.” I said, and smiled with all my teeth. “Now do me a favour, and don't disappoint.”
From 2018's Fictober:
Will tasted copper and ash and death and called it victory.
From the first draft of A Song for the End of the World
(she was still an important goddess, no matter how many memories Daiki had of her scolding him for not eating his vegetables).
Tagging: @theguardianofmagic @abalonetea @urbanteeth and @rktho-writes but no pressure guys!
