#I drew four ten times for this haha
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First Kiss with Harvey
@nectar33n requested Harvey first so here goes. I’m not sure if you wanted canon or non-canon or if you wanted a female or male or nonbinary Farmer. I’m going with canon/female Farmer. I wrote a freakin’ novel so spoilers... haha! Once I started, I couldn’t stop. Hope you don’t mind.
It was the morning of the surprise. Harvey set his alarm for 5am. He knew the Farmer was an early riser, but he wasn’t sure how early. The night before he tossed and turned in bed. He was nervous. Not because of the height of the hot air balloon ride, but because he hoped beyond hope that today would be the day. Today he would confess his true feelings to the Farmer, the woman who stole his whole heart.
As a doctor, Harvey knew he could not survive without his heart. Logically. If she rejected him, he wasn’t sure how he would survive, except that he wanted her to be happy. And then it would be awkward at two thousand feet above ground if she said no.
Argh! Harvey had been paranoid about missing his alarm, and so he woke up at a half past four. It was much too early, but he slipped his glasses onto the bridge of his nose. Laying his head back against the pillow, he tried a self-soothing technique that had worked for years. Deep breath in. Hold. One. Two. Three. Four. Exhale.
After ten more deep breaths, his heart rate slowed. Still, when he tucked his arm behind his head, he saw only five minutes had passed. The time mocked him, the little red digital light aggravating his brain. Grunting once more, he resolved to get up, and mustered strength to swing his legs over the bed, one at a time.
It was too late to take it back. His invitation. He scribbled a note on a piece of memo paper from his doctor’s pad, asking the Farmer to join him right before dawn for a surprise. If he went back now, he would look like an idiot. He already felt stupid staking out her place to make sure she was in for the night before he timidly slipped the note in the mailbox.
Perhaps he should have thought it through more and used pretty stationary. Like the kind she always slipped in with her homemade jar of pickles. His heart always skipped a little beat when he saw a fresh jar waiting for him outside the Clinic in the morning. A sign she was thinking of him.
Or when she dropped by on blustery afternoons to bring him coffee, always when he was fading the most. The little hearts she drew on the cup sleeve brightened his days and mindset. Somehow she just knew he needed a pick-me-up. It was a sixth sense. As a man of science, he didn’t always trust the mystical, what others described as “gut feelings.” And yet, Farmer made him want to believe in a deeper connection to the soul, and to a Higher Power.
Farmer always checked the mail first thing. He liked that about her. She had her routines. He had his own. Predictable, and yet open to surprises. She shared with him once. With that same little head-tilt and charming smile that could sweep a man off his feet. Or in Harvey’s case stumble over his own two feet. He winced as he tripped into the bathroom and flicked on the light, wishing he had the sense to slid his toes into slippers before padding around in the dead of night.
Reaching for the shower handles, he turned the water to scalding hot. The heat would relax him. He liked it to feel like a sauna. His apartment above the office was modest, small, just big enough for him. No space for a bathtub, but he didn’t mind. He was usually in a hurry. Harvey yanked his black tee shirt over his head. The mirror was already fogging. He stared into the glass after wiping away some of the steam. His eyes looked tired. His hair was wild. And he could have sworn he saw a wrinkle near his forehead.
Perhaps he was selfish to ask her to be his girlfriend. She deserved someone younger. Someone who could keep up with her endless energy. Someone who wasn’t so preoccupied and could help out more around the farm. He wasn’t a “spring chicken.” He hoped the age gap wouldn’t bother her, and he assured himself that it never had before. She even confessed once that she was attracted to older men after one too many pale ales at the Saloon.
Removing his pajama bottoms and boxers, Harvey stepped into the shower before he changed his mind. He was older, but he was no slouch. He worked out once a week with the ladies - good cardio at Caroline’s studio. And he took walks once a day all over the village, sometimes twice a day if he was facing a particularly challenging medical problem. Sometimes Farmer joined him, and he grew to like her company. No, he ruffled shampoo through his hair, he grew to love her company.
Even with doctor-patient confidentiality in a tiny town where everyone knew everyone, Harvey could still vaguely discuss different issues he faced. She listened intently, engaged in the conversation, offering an encouraging head nod or smile as needed. He could tell she liked to listen to him talk, even when he felt like he was rambling. Her eyes shone.
Harvey puffed his chest out a little with pride as he soaped up, thinking about his mother’s insistence that he take vocal lessons as a teen. Learning Latin for mass (which helped in medical school) and singing tenor (for the ladies) paid off. His patients often said he possessed a soothing voice and kind bedside manner. Or one very special lady. He smiled to himself as he stepped from the shower and wrapped himself in a towel.
A half hour later, dressed, everything packed into a picnic basket, Harvey padded over to his kitchen to brew a pot of coffee. Even the particular brand of beans reminded him of Farmer. She grew a coffee plant just for him in her greenhouse so he could have his favorites year-round, and roasted the beans with the help of Gus at the Saloon. Her thoughtfulness knew no bounds.
A steady rap at the door downstairs startled him. Harvey glanced at the clock. Almost 5:45 a.m. He had checked the paper so he knew the sun would rise at ten after six. Was she early? He plucked his cell phone from his shirt pocket, but it did not reveal a text message. Harvey slid into his familiar brown loafers and walked downstairs.
“Evelyn?”
His eyes widened with surprise to see his elderly neighbor standing on his doorstep. She was bundled up warm in her typical red coat and the pair of black leather gloves her husband George had purchased to help her poor circulation. Her smile told him he had nothing to worry about, but he couldn’t help himself.
“Is everything okay with George?” he asked, stepping aside so she could step into the clinic.
George was one of his most temperamental patients, and frequently didn’t listen to his advice. It had taken almost two years for George to trust Harvey as a doctor. And even then, he grumbled about asking for help.
“Yes, yes,” Evelyn said. “He’s still sleeping like a log. The machine you suggested though does cut back on his snoring. I barely hear it anymore.”
She removed her gloves. Harvey nodded.
“I’m glad it was useful for him. How can I help you?”
“I saw your light. And I was up anyhow.”
She reached into her bag, revealing wrapped hot bread. Freshly baked. Evelyn told him she often rolled doughs when she had trouble sleeping.
“I thought,” her blue eyes twinkled. “You and the Farm Girl would appreciate this.”
“How?” he ran a hand through his hair. “...did you?”
She smirked. “I’m not psychic, Doc. I just know you. And you were running all over town this past week making special preparations for a ‘special’ date with a ‘special’ someone.”
Harvey’s face relaxed into a smile. “Oh I was that obvious?” He chuckled ruefully. “I guess, I was.”
“Relax, Doc, she’s going to say yes,” Evelyn said, reaching up to tap his shoulder. “After all, you’re quite the catch.”
At her words, Harvey felt his cheeks grow hot. Evelyn meant well. She truly was a “Granny” to the entire town. He managed a meek “thank you” and waved, watching to make sure she made it back to her home across the square. When he saw her residence light turn on, Harvey returned inside the clinic. Reaching for his coat, he buttoned up, grabbed his basket of goodies, and tucked Evelyn’s bread inside before stepping back out.
A quick twenty minute jaunt up the hill, Harvey reached the railroad crossing in no time. His heart felt light, even if his stomach felt full of knots. Evelyn wished him well, but could she really know the Farmer would say yes? As he was twisting the toe of his shoe in the dusty ground, wondering if he would “chicken” out, Harvey heard a gentle, familiar voice calling to him.
Instantly, he felt his shoulders relax. He turned to wave at her, then wondered if he was grinning like an idiot. If he was, she didn’t seem to mind. She walked toward him briskly, smiling brightly herself. Today she wore a soft green blouse and jean skirt, matching jacket, and her famous knee-high brown boots. As she drew close, he could even tell she had applied makeup - a little mascara, eyeshadow, and eyeliner. Perhaps even a light lip gloss. His heart skipped two beats. She always looked good, no matter what she was wearing, but he could tell she made an effort for him.
“How’s my favorite doctor?” she asked, reaching his side.
“Good, and you’re right on time,” he cleared his throat, hoping she couldn’t sense his nervousness.
“Oh for what? What is this surprise?” she inquired, eagerly, rubbing her hands together.
Without thinking, he reached over and took her hands in his own to warm them. He grimaced, almost immediately regretting it. His palms were sweaty. She would know he was anxious.
And yet, she looked up at him, surprise registering in her eyes, but her expression was welcoming. “Oh thank you. I should’ve worn gloves.”
“You can wear mine,” he offered, starting to remove them one at a time.
“No,” she grinned, shaking her head. “This is better.” Her fingers interlocked with his, and she squeezed gently.
He straightened and cleared his throat again, knowing with almost certainty that pink had breached his cheeks. “Look here it comes,” he pointed to the sky.
His anxiety levels skyrocketed as he realized this was the moment as the hot air balloon descended into the open field. However, her excited grip around his fingers and the look of pure joy on her face made him so happy. Harvey wanted her to be happy.
“Are you surprised?”
“Oh my! Yes!” she exclaimed, temporarily releasing his hand to clap her own. “But aren’t you afraid of heights, Harvey?”
YES! He wanted to scream, but he couldn’t. It wouldn’t exactly be manly. And he would never live it down. His heart pounded wildly. The way she said his name, with kindness and concern, helped him catch his breath. Harvey somehow managed to express himself, sharing about how he wanted this to be special for her as she had never ridden in a hot air balloon before. And he had seen the ad and knew he just had to surprise her. She was always doing things for him, going out of her way, and he wanted to repay her consistent kindness.
Marcello, their guide, gave detailed instructions about where to stand, how to operate the balloon, what to do in case of emergencies. Harvey had stayed up nearly all night three nights in a row last week researching rental companies with the highest safety ratings. He muttered this, and to his dismay, the Farmer heard, but she just smiled and told him how much she appreciated his thoroughness.
Harvey offered her a hand as they stepped into the basket. He thought his heart would leap out of his chest. Her grip was reassuring. She didn’t let go until he was securely in the basket and by her side. She flexed her fingers and he realized perhaps he had been gripping too hard.
“Oh sorry,” he mumbled.
“No, it’s okay,” she said. “I am happy to be here with you, and I know you’re nervous. To be honest...” she tilted her head to the side. “I am too.”
“Really?” he hated how his voice squeaked. He cleared his throat and repeated. “Oh really!”
“Yes, but I’m excited too, like...” she grabbed his hand again and laid it against her chest around her left breast.
He flushed, realizing this was the closest he had ever been to them.
“Butterflies!”
They both said in unison, and then laughed awkwardly. He dropped his hand quickly, feeling it improper to linger, even though her heartbeat felt nice.
“You ready?” she asked.
He gulped and nodded. “Yeah, I’m determined not to let my fears hold me back. I want to experience this with you.”
“Me too,” she nodded.
As they lifted off the ground, his jaw dropped open and his eyes widened. This was really happening. They had left the safety of earth behind for the unknown expanse of the sky. He couldn’t take it back now. He coughed and rubbed his jaw a bit, hoping she thought he was trembling because of the cold and not fear.
“I’ll... uh... try... not to get scared,” he mumbled, running a hand through his hair, and flushed hard, realizing he said the words aloud.
“Wow... you can see so far into the Valley already!” she exclaimed.
He had squeezed his eyes shut during take-off and ascent. Nervously, he released his hands from the sides of his head. In the distance, the sky faded from black to blue to a soft purply-pink.
“I thought I’d be scared too,” she shared. “But then I saw this view and relaxed.”
Harvey wished that was all it took for him to calm down. He held the sides of his head, feeling like his heart might burst through his temples. Then he remembered that he forgot the basket of breakfast... 1700 feet below. Could he be any more absent-minded? His fears... (or was it her hand?) had distracted him. He swallowed, thinking about her hand.
As if on cue, she looked up at him.
“Here,” she reached for his hand once more and squeezed. “I promise I won’t let go.”
He could kiss her. He wanted to. So badly. But he wanted his pulse to slow down first so he wouldn't trip into her mouth. She always knew just what to do or say to make him feel at ease. A kiss wouldn’t be appropriate yet. We’re not even dating really. I need to tell her how I feel if I can bring myself to look at her.
“Harvey?” she said, her voice sounding worried.
He squeezed his eyes open and looked down, but the terror flooded right back in. Before he could stop himself, he closed the few feet between them and dropped into her arms for a hug. A hug was okay. Right? This is okay? I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. He repeated to himself.
“You’re more than okay,” she whispered.
He almost wondered if he actually heard her right. Did he actually say “I’m okay, okay, okay” aloud? “Wha? What? We’re up so high,” he gulped.
He felt so dumb. A man of a his age unable to handle heights, clinging to the woman he wanted to be his girlfriend like he was a baby. She’s gonna think I’m such a wimp. He felt dismayed. He could handle blood, guts, puke, sweat, and all sorts of bodily fluids, but heights? Why did I think this was a good idea?
“Harvey?” she lifted her arms to hug him in return.
Whether intentional or not, she was stroking the back of his coat.
“I wanted to impress you with this, but look at me!” he exclaimed burying his head in shame on her shoulder. “I’m a trembling coward.”
“Harvey?” she repeated his name with such tenderness. “You’re not a coward.”
“I’m not?” he pulled his head back, shock registering in his eyes as he connected with her gaze.
He saw nothing but admiration there.
“You’re definitely not. Harvey, I’ve seen you rescue injured people from rock slides and descend into unstable mines to pull out lost hikers. That’s not cowardly. That’s really brave.”
“What? I... uh...” he stammered.
“And you dove into the sea to rescue those little kids who got swept away by the waves during a sudden summer storm. You didn’t stop to think about your own safety. You just took the plunge.”
“I... I... guess I did. You helped too. And you frequent the mines way more often than I do. You have more than enough bravery for the both of us.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, Doctor Harvey. You do a lot of things that most people wouldn’t because you care about your patients and about the safety of the lives of those around you. It’s a really admirable quality about you,” she encouraged sweetly.
“You do such nice things for everyone too, like helping bring supplies to the Shadow People camps deep in the underground. That’s really brave. It’s part of why I like you so much,” he continued, and bit his lip, trying desperately to stay focused on the sky in front of him rather than the slowly disappearing ground below. “I’m just not sure...”
“And today you planned this romantic surprise for me even though you are clearly terrified of heights.”
“Romantic?” he squeaked.
She furrowed her brow. “Oh am I misinterpreting?”
Harvey squeezed her hand. “No,” he managed, his voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t let go.”
She leaned into his shoulder, not only returning the hand squeeze, but wrapping her other arm around his from the side. Her hair smelled like jasmine. They stood side by side, and little by little, he felt his pulse slowing. He began to enjoy the peacefulness, the quiet of the air, the coolness of the breeze against his cheeks, the comfort of her presence.
“I think I can enjoy it now,” he said after a few minutes of silence as he tried to think of what to say next.
To tell her how he felt. He wasn’t a poet like Elliott or a songwriter like Sebastian and Sam. He didn’t have the adorable chickens she loved like Shane did, but he did enjoy a good fried egg every once in a while. And he definitely didn’t have the physique of the semi-pro athlete like Alex. He wasn’t the most eligible bachelor in Pelican Town. That alone nearly prevented him from planning this surprise for the Farmer today. He needed to stop comparing himself to others. He conquered this fear. He took the step into the basket and managed this far. Maybe he could manage the next step too.
“Oh... this is incredible,” he laughed nervously. “I think I can even see Mayor Lewis standing in town square.”
“Where?” she asked, leaning forward a little.
Without thinking, Harvey yanked her back to his side. He wrapped an arm around her, and snuggled her against his chest protectively. He couldn’t see her face because he was blushing hard. Why did I do that? He opened his mouth to speak when she suddenly shushed him. He frowned, only momentarily, but then saw what captured her attention. A flock of geese flying in a V flapped in unison by their balloon. It was a majestic sight against the backdrop of the rising sun. Oh! He found the courage to speak from his heart.
“Uh... Farm Girl?”
“Yes, Doc?”
He gulped. “Uh... we’ve known each other for quite a while now and uh...”
It’s now or never, man. Times almost up!
“I...” he could feel the sweat pouring down the sides of his face, even if it was cold at altitude.
She gave him the sweetest smile he had ever seen. Her eyes were full of admiration, encouragement, and dare he hope? Love? She leaned forward, removing any semblance of space between them, placing her hands against his chest. He felt a lump in his throat where the words were stuck.
“I... love... you too,” she whispered, finishing the words for him.
With two hands firmly placed on her upper arms, he leaned down, closed his eyes, and kissed her for the first time. Her lips were sweet, slightly chapped from sun and wind, but she tasted like... strawberries. His favorite fruit. He wondered if that was intentional. His senses grew hazy as he heard her sigh “finally” and he nearly lost all control. Her hands found their way behind his back and she pressed her torso against his, and his own hands slid further down her arms and around her delicate waist. He could hardly believe this was happening.
“I’ve... loved you... for so long,” he managed between kisses. “I... never dreamed...”
“Neither did I,” she said sweetly, reaching up for his neck, pulling him back to her lips eagerly. “I’ve wanted to kiss you... for so long.”
“I...” he couldn’t think clearly.
She was showing him new heights. His kisses deepened. He nearly forgot where they were as he continued with fervor. She seemed to enthusiastically return his desire, matching his speed and intensity with her own. Her legs brushed against his, and he felt weak. It had been so long since he felt this way, if ever. His knees threatened to buckle under the fog of passion, but he pulled back first, as the gentleman in him realized he needed to do something first.
“Will you... be... my girlfriend?” Harvey wanted to make it official.
“Yes, will you be my boyfriend?” she asked, her eyelashes fluttering happily.
Harvey never expected to feel so touched by hearing those words. “Yes.”
He sealed his answer with a kiss. “Yes,” he repeated.
“I love you, Harvey,” she sighed dreamily and leaned her head against his chest once more. “I am so happy right now.”
Harvey felt tears prick the corners of his eyes. He couldn’t bring himself to swat them away, as the heights still unnerved him and he didn’t want to let go of her. He didn’t want to let go of her ever. He calmed himself with a deep breath or two before replying. After a tender kiss to the top of her head, he said, “Me too.”
❤️
#stardewremixed#replies#first kiss#stardew valley headcanon#sdv headcanon#stardew valley headcanons#sdv headcanons#sdv harvey#stardew valley harvey#sdv farmer#ten hearts event#i love this man so much#my heart
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Christmas in Uranium
A Ride the Cyclone Christmas oneshot I wrote, below the cut. Minor tws for dr*g mentions and swearing.
Oh yeah also it’s Nischa and PerfectDolls haha
I included a “bonus character” in here with a name I headcanon him to have, surprise!!
The first snowfall of the year came on November 25th. The air had cooled down significantly since the Fall Fair, and classes were back in full swing. The Christmas season had begun (despite Ocean’s insistence that it didn’t start until December first) and that could mean only one thing: the choir’s annual Secret Santa Swap.
“Okay everyone!” Ocean climbed atop the wiggly stool, balancing herself by holding onto a table. She had in hand a top hat stolen from the costume closet behind the stage, filled with slips of paper. “I want everyone to pick a piece of paper to see who you’ll be shopping for this year!” She announced to the choir, who were gathered around her, watching with emotions that ranged from excitement to disdain.
“I’ll go first!” She dug her hand into the hat, read off her piece of paper, then tucked it in the pocket of her dress. “Ricky, you go next.”
Ricky adjusted his neon green sweater, which was far too big for him as it was, and reached out for the hat. He smiled when he read off the name, then took the hat from Ocean and passed it to Constance, who took a slip for herself then passed it to Penny. Penny drew a name, looking it over and looking slightly uneasy, then passed the hat to Noel, who took one for himself and passed the remaining piece to Mischa, without unfolding it.
“The gift swap officially ends on December 15th!” Ocean reminded them. “Happy shopping!”
“So…” Penny slumped down on Ricky’s beanbag chair a few days later. “I have no idea how to shop for presents. I got Connie, and she’s always making such sweet gifts for everyone, I don’t think anything I could get her could stack up!”
Ricky looked at her thoughtfully. “I’m not much good at it either, to be honest. Normally I’d tell you to burn the paper in a fire, but since it’s Christmas, I have to be nice. Just…buy from the heart?”
”My heart is a raccoon.” Penny smiled. Ricky glanced at her, but Penny decided not to provide further information.
“Yeah…right.” Ricky nodded along. “I’m sure you’ll think of something.” He stood up, grabbed his crutches, then started to make his way out. “I’m gonna grab a snack, want one?” She shook her head. “I’m gonna get going, I have shopping to do!!”
”Of course I get stuck buying for Ocean…” Noel grumbled, tossing himself onto his bed and staring up at the fairy lights that hung from his ceiling. “The biggest bitch in the entirety of St. Cassian’s, and I somehow have to come up with a gift she’ll like.”
He rolled over so his head was nestled against his pillow, burrowing into a blanket. “Well, I mean, she doesn’t have to like it, but it needs to be creative, at least. But maybe I should be nice just this one time?” He sighed, talking to no one in particular. “Think, think, what does Ocean like? School, being a bitch, most likely Penny…” he trailed off. He had an idea, and best of all, it wouldn’t take a single dollar!
“Ocean!” Mischa was banging on the ginger’s door a few days into the Secret Santa Swap time. “I need help with swap. It is not easy to buy present. I have no money. And also no ideas.”
Ocean opened the door. “Mischa it’s ten o clock at night. In December. In Canada. It’s negative four degrees, where is your jacket?”
”Ukrainian men do not feel cold!” Mischa snapped, despite his chattering teeth and shivering form. “Only rage and-“
”Passion, yes Mischa, I get it.” Ocean sighed. “Come inside and I can help you with the gift thing.” She opened the door to her house.
Mischa’s nose was nearly blown off—the entire place smelled of weed. Ocean seemed rather ashamed of this. “I know that face.” She said darkly. “My room smells better, I promise.” She pointed to a door at the end of the hallway. “In there.”
Mischa opened it up. Ocean’s room was vastly different than the rest of the house—while what he’d seen of the kitchen and living room was messy and grimy and smelled of drugs, Ocean’s bedroom was spotless and smelled of lavender and rosemary, thanks to one of those insense diffusors. The bed was neatly made—a twin sized mattress with pure white sheets and pillowcases. The walls were pale grey, the curtains sky blue, the ceiling and trim were white. It looked like a room you’d find at a rental house, almost as if Ocean put in effort to make it look like nobody lived there at all.
She sat down in the chair in the corner, just a plain grey armchair, and looked at Mischa. “Who did you get for the swap if you don’t mind me asking?”
He glanced down at his feet, his face a bit red. Ocean got the memo. “Well, you know what he likes.” She said. “But… I feel your pain. I got Penny.”
Mischa scrunched his brow in confusion. “You like Penny? I thought you were…not a girl kisser.”
”The word is heterosexual, Mischa. You would be, erm, correct. Yeah, I must have misunderstood you. But…you got Noel, yes?”
”Yes.” He folded his hands. “What am I supposed to do? He is my poet!”
Ocean bit her lower lip in questioning. “Well, he doesn’t know you like him, right? He’s pretty dense. Not as dense as you, but dense, still. Maybe your Christmas present to him could be…” she mimed a ‘kissy face’.
“And you could do same for Penny?” He chuckled, to which Ocean huffed.
“I told you, I don’t like Penny.” She insisted. “Now are you going home or staying here?”
He sighed. “Neither is ideal. Your house smells like the boys’ bathroom by the teachers’ lounge. You know, the one where they-“
”Smoke weed, yes, I know.” Ocean finished. “My parents are really into…that stuff.” She scrambled to her desk, pulled a pack of matches out of the drawer, and proceeded to light another candle. “Perfect.”
“Mhm.” He looked back at Ocean’s. “I think I’ll go home. Smells better there.”
The walk home was tedious to say the least. Ocean lived on the very end of a one-way, dead-end street that led all the way through the woods that surround Uranium City, which, though sparse, were dark and scented of pitch. Mischa kicked up pebbles and sidewalk salt on the way home. The road was mostly clear, but he feared patches of black ice.
”Whole thing’s so dumb. I’ll never find something suitable for poet. May as well just give up.” He muttered, the cold night wind scooping up his words like air beneath a bird’s gentle wings. He remembered what his mother had told him about giving gifts, that the best ones came from the heart, but that was back in Ukraine, when the only person who would even want to give him a gift was his mother. Now, with a whole group of friends, and some very confusing feelings about Noel, this whole gift-giving thing was hard.
When he finally got home, he was surprised to find the front door left unlocked for him. Usually it was shut and locked tight after his foster parents went to bed, whether Mischa was inside the house or not. Perhaps this was their early Christmas present to him.
He slipped inside and locked the door behind him for those fuckers’ sake, then made his way down the basement steps to his makeshift bedroom, which was really just a futon and a tv positioned on a milk crate. There was a shabby old rug, as well as a cardboard box filled with his foster parents’ old junk: a sewing machine and some scraps of fabric, a half-broken coffee maker, and a clock that was missing the hour hand.
Mischa sat down on the futon and tore off the clothes he was wearing, leaning back for sleep in just his boxers, when he saw something peeking out of the box of junk: a spool of thread, with a needle sticking into it. Mischa remembered when his mother used to sew with him, little projects, like book-marks and pillowcases, but he imagined he could probably pull something off if he tried. So from that old box, Mischa, still clad only in his heart-patterned boxer shorts, gathered a pile of materials, fired up the sewing machine, and got to work.
“What on Earth do I buy for someone who spends half his time drinking cheap vodka, and the other half watching slasher flicks?” Ricky stroked the head of his soft grey tabby cat, Buzz. Buzz purred and rolled over for belly rubs, but was no help in the Christmas shopping department. Ricky chuckled. “Everyone needs a cat like you, huh buddy? You’re like…free therapy with fur!” The cat rolled over again, this time sticking his rump up for Ricky to pet, and the boy obliged happily.
“Maybe Mischa would appreciate a cat,” he laughed, “though I personally wouldn’t trust him with a creature’s life. I’m surprised he hasn’t accidentally burnt his house down yet.” Buzz gave a little ‘mrrp’ sound, as if he was agreeing.
“Seriously, Buzzy Boy,” Ricky said impatiently. “Feels wrong to buy him, like, alcohol, but what else can I do? It’s not like he has any other interests besides rap and being angry.” He chewed on his inner cheek, staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling. “I’m at a loss for words.”
Buzz leaped off Ricky’s lap, swishing his tail around his body and moving to groom himself with one of his forepaws. Ricky shifted his weight, glancing at Buzz, now down on the floor amongst Ricky’s scattering of art supplies.
Ricky was quite the artist in his spare time. He spent a lot of time making comics about Zolar and the Space-Age Bachelor Man, mostly for his own enjoyment. Then, he was struck with an idea. Amongst his art supplies were some pieces of scrap wood, previously part of a solar system model for class. But if he could cut them just right, paint them…
A meow interrupted his train of thought: Buzz was teetering precariously close to a recent work, which Ricky had done with paints. “No no, Buzz! Your-“
Crash!
Buzz recoiled and frantically tried to get all the paint off of his tail, which just resulted in all of the paint being knocked over. Ricky sighed. Brainstorming session was over, cleaning session had just begun.
“Connie, whatcha doin?” A small voice asked from behind a door. It wasn’t even seven in the morning the Saturday before the swap, which was to take place on a Sunday, but the Blackwoods’ kitchen was already filled with the scents of fresh baked pastries and sweet fruits. Constance was standing in the center of the kitchen, surrounded by bowls and spoons and boxes of ingredients.
“Oh! Henry!” She laughed. “Good morning!” Her little brother sleepily rubbed his eyes.
“Whats with all the yummies? The sun just woke up.”
Constance laughed and set down the bowl of egg whites she was whipping, then scooped up Henry. “I’m perfecting a new cake recipe! You wanna help?”
Henry nodded. “Can I lick the bowl?”
She broke out in a grin. “Would I ever say no to you?” She set him down and handed him a bowl and some flour. “Four cups, and make sure you measure carefully!”
Constance had poured years of work into helping Henry become the best baking assistant she could ask for. And he really was incredible at it. A few moments later, she was provided with four cups of flour. “Thanks buddy!”
”What kinda cake are you making?” He prodded her again, tugging at her tattered purple lacy apron.
“Hey! No touching that.” She protested. “You know this old apron is falling apart and you aren’t helping.”
He pouted. “Sorry Connieeee~” he whined, to which she just sighed and smiled. “You wanna see what kind of cake I’m trying to make?”
“Well…” Constance pointed to a piece of paper she had laid out on the kitchen table. “Take a peek!”
”Woahhhh~” Henry stared at it in awe. “Is that a space cake?”
The drawing she had made was of a three-tiered cake, swirled with galaxy-hued icing and topped with what seemed to be an alien cat, probably made out of fondant or marzipan.
“Space cake is an understatement.” She laughed, peering over his shoulder. “This is Ricky’s Christmas present. Think he’ll like it?”
“He’s gonna love it!” Henry assured her, bouncing back to her side. “What kinda taste is it?”
”Oh, flavour? Marble!”
Henry looked up at her, eyes glimmering in confusion. “You put marbles in a cake? That doesn’t sound like it will taste too good, Connie. Why don’t you make it ‘nilla or chocolate?”
“No, no,” she laughed, snorting a bit as she did so. “Marble just means it’s vanilla and chocolate swirled together.”
“So there’s no marbles in it?” Henry asked again, just to confirm.
“No marbles. Wanna taste the icing?”
“Mhm!”
With Henry’s breakfast completely spoiled by sugar, Constance started cleaning up her mess, when there was a knock on the door. “Now who in Uranium is gonna show up this early? It’s seven in the morning! Mom and dad aren’t even awake yet!”
She got the door, revealing the paint-covered form of Ricky Potts in her doorway.
Crap! She thought. His cake! He can’t know about that!
Constance stepped out onto the front porch and slammed the door shut behind her. “Sorry. Messy in there. Henry’s baking.” She lied, hoping it wasn’t too blatantly obvious. Ricky, although far from dumb, seemed to buy it enough. “Also, why are you covered in paint?”
”Long story. Do you have stain remover?”
“Not that I know of. Mom has to go grocery shopping today. You can try Noel though, he lives just up the street and he’s always got all that stuff. God forbid he get a single stain on that dress of his.” She explained. “I’ve gotta help Henry, and uh…” she tried to think of another believable lie. “Sew this.” She fingered with the hem of her apron.
Ricky nodded along to all of this. “Thanks for the advice, Connie. See you tomorrow, at the secret swap thing?”
”See you then!”
The swap was held at Constance’s house, per her request. Her gift, apparently, was far too big for her to transport very far on her own. When the group got there, Constance was proudly displaying the most massive cake any of them had ever seen, and Henry was beaming as he showed it off.
“Merry Christmas, Ricky!” Constance beamed as the male walked through the door, “From me and Henry!”
Ricky admired the cake for a long while, and probably would have done so for longer if his duty hadn’t called. He set his wrapped present, which was rather flat and rectangular, in Mischa’s hands. When the taller unwrapped it, he revealed a picture frame. The outside was painted with all sorts of colours and little green money symbols, $, which Mischa was greatly amused by. The picture in the center was of the whole choir at the Fall Fair, their hair all messed up and their faces reddened from a ride on the roller coaster there, just an old wooden one called The Cyclone.
Mischa grinned. “Ricky, man, did I ever tell you what my mother told me about gifts?”
Ricky shook his head.
“She always said hand-made was best. Thank you, Space Jesus. I will treasure it for life.”
At this moment, Penny shot to her feet. “My turn!” She held out a box, one of the ones that always held clothing when it was wrapped and under the tree. “For you.” She passed it to Constance.
Constance tore at the wrapping, Henry helping to clean up the scraps. She opened the box and pulled out an apron: pale purple in hue, with little gold, pink, white, and blue clouds painted on with puffy paint. Her eyes started to tear up. “Penny…this is gorgeous…and my current apron is falling apart and…” she enveloped Penny in a quick hug. “You have no idea how much it means.”
”I suppose it is my turn, now.” Mischa held out a very lumpy, unevenly wrapped gift. He gave it a gentle toss toward Noel, who caught it without an issue. He ripped the paper off, and inside was the most beautiful ugly thing he’d ever seen.
It was many different colours, really: blues and reds and greens and shades of grey and pink and everything in between. Its eyes were buttons, and it took the shape of a bear. Clearly homemade, and Mischa had really seemed to have poured his entire soul into the plush.
If Constance had made a big deal shedding tears over the apron, than this was worse, because Noel was absolutely weeping, curled into Mischa’s side, holding the plush bear.
Ocean, who really hadn’t spoken much since this whole thing had begun, got to her feet. “Listen, Penny…” she met the brunette’s eyes. “I really had no idea what to get you, and this really isn’t much…” she held out a tiny box, wrapped in gold paper with silver ribbons bound around it. Penny took great care not to tarnish it too much.
Inside the box sat a very tiny clay lamb, painted as pure and white as freshly fallen snow. It was gorgeous and shiny and Penny looked at it in awe. “I…Ocean…”
Ocean smiled. “Is it enough?”
”It’s plenty.” Penny finished. And with that, she shot to her feet, and pecked Ocean on the cheek.
By the time the redhead calmed down from the little kiss, Noel’s tears had mostly dried. With a satisfied smirk, he held out Ocean’s present, a card, a gift card was what she expected. But when she opened it, all she found was a picture of a dog. A white dog. With the words “I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE” written across the front. On the back side of the slip of paper, Noel had written a note:
Congrats on coming out, Oce. Please kiss Penny before she dies of lesbian pining.
<3 Noel
(meme for reference)
#rtc#ride the cyclone#au#oneshot#noel gruber#mischa bachinski#ocean o'connell rosenberg#penny lamb#rtc musical#ricky rtc#ricky potts#constance blackwood#nischa#perfectdolls
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Laden of the Torn (14 of 25)
AO3 link
Catch up on tumblr: One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen
Tagging @priscilla9993 @cocohook38 @killian-whump <3
***
LONG CHAPTER WARNING haha sorry :)
***
Killian was trying his best to ignore his increasingly boisterous surroundings and catch just a few more moments of sleep. By the time Mandible and his cronies had finished with him the night before, they were the only ones still awake, and it had to have been well past midnight, if not approaching dawn. Couple that with the waves of pain that accompanied each movement, and Killian felt as if he’d barely slept at all, yet clearly, the rest of the cave’s inhabitants were well-refreshed and determined to make a noisy start to their day. He sighed and brought his arm closer to his eyes, trying to at least block out some of the light. He hadn’t felt this bad since… well, he was having difficulty recalling, actually. Probably the morning after his heart had first been cursed. That had been a miserable night, no question. The rain and the cold helping to spread the ache in his chest to every corner of his being, and Alice’s sobs still echoing in his very soul…
“Food! Food!” came a squeak from behind Killian, followed by an insistent prodding against his tender shoulder blade. He groaned. He would much rather sleep than bother with breakfast. With consciousness returning to focus, all of the abuse he’d suffered the day before was gradually sharpening into raw, throbbing pain everywhere at once. Favor had better not be expecting him to begin his travels in the next few days. He doubted he could make it much past the cave entrance at this point.
“Up, Torn stranger! Eat!”
A negligible weight landed on Killian’s hip, and he almost could have ignored it, if it weren’t for the smoldering laceration on his forearm not far away. Instinct drew the arm away from the monkey crawling on him, but that awakened some of the burning injuries on his back, and he had to admit defeat. If this creature had half the persistence that Alice did, it would not go away until he’d risen and eaten whatever he’d been given.
Killian dragged open weary eyelids and blinked until some of the cave came into focus. It was a blur of motion as the First Clan fed themselves and prepared for the day. The weight came off of Killian’s side, and the white fluff-ball from the day before landed next to a platter of what looked like assorted fruit. The little creature could not have carried that whole thing by itself, could it?
“Eat!” repeated Fluffy. Killian glanced upwards to where Blackbeard was tethered, and to his surprise, he found the other pirate up and eating already, uncharacteristically quiet. He really was taking his promise to heart.
With a wince and a deep breath, Killian pushed himself up, feeling the familiar burn of stiff, scabbed wounds chafing against leaf or hide bandages. He’d been provided a blanket at some point during the night, and he gingerly rearranged it over his shoulders to keep out the morning chill. White Fluff nudged the fruit platter and then raced away, apparently assured that Killian would eat now that he was sitting up and awake.
“Look who’s much the worse for wear,” remarked Blackbeard under his breath. He slurped pulp from his fingers and reached for another bit of green-tinted melon. Killian did not have much of an appetite, and the noisy eating habits of his fellow captive didn’t help in the slightest, but he knew he needed to rebuild his strength to have any hope of rescuing Puzzle. Moving slowly, he selected some kind of berry and tried to rouse himself. Just as quietly, Killian addressed Blackbeard without bothering to look at him.
“You may have staved off your imminent execution last night, mate, but we both know we’re entirely at the mercy of these monkeys. Let’s try and keep it civil, and if I can give them what they want, perhaps they’ll consider releasing us in the end.”
Blackbeard scraped the remnants of his breakfast up with one finger, seemingly unconcerned. “And what is it that they want, Hook? Besides our seasoned flesh roasted on a spit?”
Killian managed another careful mouthful before citrus juice made its way into a gouge in the back of his hand. Immediately, the whole area was ablaze. He cursed and tried to use the edge of the blanket to dab it clean. He couldn’t think of any harm in telling Blackbeard as much as he knew... “I’m to rescue a lost child, taken prisoner by a rival clan.”
Blackbeard scoffed. “You?”
“Aye, me. For some unfathomable reason, they don’t seem to trust you.”
Having licked his fingers clean and wiped his beard with his sleeve, Blackbeard leaned back against the cave wall, still smirking. “Their loss.”
Killian intended to leave it at that, knowing that Blackbeard wouldn’t truly have any objection to riding the coattails of his hard labor. For all his talk, the man was fundamentally lazy, and would take any opportunity to relax and be fed while everyone else around him did all the work. And that was better for the First Clan, as well. Should the roles have been reversed, and Blackbeard made it to the Less camp, he was just as likely to pull a double-cross as make any actual rescue attempt.
“What do you get out of it?” Blackbeard’s tone was casual, but Killian knew there was real suspicion behind the question.
“My freedom, I hope.”
“You could take that anyway, if they release you to travel into enemy territory.”
“They have your map, mate, and I’m in no fit state to attempt to navigate myself out of here without it.”
With a cruel chuckle, Blackbeard assented. “I will give you that one. But if that is all the reward you are demanding, then you are even more of a fool than I had thought.”
Killian ignored the insult. Blackbeard’s opinion of him was worth less than nothing, and though there wouldn’t be any specific harm in his rival knowing of his hopes for a cure, it somehow felt dangerous to let him in on the secret. As if it would be tainted somehow; as if it would only come true if Blackbeard kept his ignorance. So Killian stayed quiet and focused his effort on finishing his fruit. It was quite sweet, and at any other time he would have savored it, but with the way he was feeling at the moment, pleasure was beyond his capability.
He had not quite finished when he spotted Mandible approaching. Though the healer monkey had obviously been up just as late as Killian himself, he appeared much more alert. Killian credited that to his full blood volume and lack of pain with every slight movement.
Mandible stopped a couple of paces away and eyed Killian critically, then cast the same sharp gaze on the lounging Blackbeard. Killian’s counterpart gave no sign of recognition, but whether that was an act or simply due to the change in lighting compared to the night before, Killian couldn’t guess.
“Good morning, Laden,” said Mandible politely. “I hope you are not experiencing too much pain today.”
“I’ve had worse,” came the automatic reply. Killian set a half-eaten fruit slice down on the platter and shook juice off his fingers before it could trickle somewhere more painful. “Thank you for the fruit.”
“Have you eaten enough?”
Killian nodded. Mandible beckoned two helpers to come closer, and they dragged a lidded clay pot by the handles until it stood halfway between the two pirates.
“Then come with me. Tell your friend he may relieve himself into the basin, and cover it afterwards.”
With a tiny smile at Mandible’s need to specify the part about the lid--he himself wouldn’t put it past Blackbeard to be careless about sanitation--Killian glanced over his shoulder at the other pirate and caught his eye. Nodding at the vessel, he gave a terse,
“Chamber pot. Make sure to use the lid.”
Blackbeard rolled his eyes and nodded. “Ladies first.”
Mandible somehow understood the expression of ridicule, and he hopped forward to grab Killian’s sleeve. “No. I will examine you now. Follow me.”
Killian felt a sudden, unreasonable spike of anxiety; he hadn’t realized Mandible meant to do that today, and what if he didn’t find anything that could lead to a cure? Feigning calm, he stumbled to his feet, biting back a groan at the surge in pain. “Seems I’m needed elsewhere. Knock yourself out.”
Blackbeard glared at the lack of ropes around Killian’s wrists and ankles, though they would be completely unnecessary considering the ball and chain still hampering his every movement. Killian drew a breath, steeled himself for more pain, and slowly limped after Mandible’s retreating form.
***
The cave went back even farther than Killian had imagined. As he hobbled along, he tried to distract himself with an attempt to estimate the number of monkeys that made up the clan, but they never stayed still for very long, and it was nearly impossible to keep track of even the ones visible at any given moment. It was a fascinating sight, though, with signs of surprising intelligence everywhere he looked. Storage and cooking areas. Tiny hammocks, fire pits, plush cushions for seating. What might have been a schooling corner for young ones. Even a small pen containing miniature goats, which was so absurd that Killian was tempted to stop and stare as one species of animal tended another.
Mandible finally brought him to a well-lit alcove in the very back, where the sloping rock ceiling met a smoothed-out wall, complete with several nooks carved into the stone and topped with animal--goat?--skin mattresses. Considering this monkey’s role, it wasn’t a big stretch of the imagination to conclude that these were sick beds, tucked in the quietest and most protected part of the cave, with all of the tools of the trade nearby for quick access. Indeed, an impressive array of shelves were practically overflowing with jars, vials, pouches, and plant matter, so variable that Killian couldn’t begin to guess at any of their purposes. The area was lit with oil lanterns; presumably to prevent a build-up of smoke in the less-ventilated area of the cave.
A woven sheet stretched between two weighted poles acted as a bit of a privacy screen, though in its current configuration it was open on two ends and anyone could poke their heads around for a peek. Two or three assistants were busy beside a couple of pots steaming over a fire and a stone-topped counter that held herbs for chopping and grinding. Killian appeared to be the only patient at that time.
Mandible waved Killian past the busy healers and into the space behind the screen. There, the bed alcove was neatly made up with an inviting sheet and pillow, and a woolen blanket lay folded at the foot. A rough estimation judged it to be fitting for an average-sized human, which was somewhat surprising, but perhaps these monkeys got more “Torn” visitors than seemed likely.
Pointing at a familiar clay vessel, Mandible repeated the name Killian had used for Blackbeard, uncertain, as if it were a new phrase. “Chamber pot?”
“Aye. At least, that’s what we call it in the realm I hail from.”
Nodding, Mandible regained his usual confidence. “Please use it and then remove your garments. You may cover yourself with the blanket for warmth.”
“All of them?” Killian asked, feeling slightly foolish.
“Please.” Mandible did not even await a reply before ducking around the corner, leaving Killian alone but more exposed than was preferable. Sighing, he limped to the bed and lowered himself stiffly to a seated position. The complication of the ankle shackle, plus the usual hindrance of a hookless wrist, meant that the task of undressing might take twice as long as Mandible expected, and though Killian hadn’t ever been exactly prudish, a setting such as this lent itself only to awkwardness.
It was becoming an all-too common occurrence, stripping and allowing strangers to prod at and bleed him. And, of course, he would go through it all a hundred times if it meant he could be with Alice again… but so far, nothing had come of any of it, except for humiliation, sickness at the hands of a jaded apothecary, near-abuse by several healers, far too many spells by various witch-doctors--to the point that Killian had begun to wonder what kind of effects he might suffer in the future as a result of mix-and-match magic--and that wasn’t even mentioning the wizard encounter. That one was better left forgotten.
Still, Killian reflected as he pulled off his boots one by one, maybe this time would be different. The monkey would certainly be the strangest examiner of the bunch! And Mandible’s proven skill at healing had to bode well, didn’t it?
Killian managed to unlace his trousers easily enough, but bending down for the chamber pot was a different story altogether, and he was fairly certain, when all was said and done, that his back was bleeding again in several places. Well, came the wry thought, at least he was in the right area of the cave for that to happen.
He awkwardly relieved himself into the pot, covered it, and set it aside, guessing that it would be taken away for study. He still did not understand what value it had, but most of the practitioners he’d visited had also demanded such a sample.
That accomplished, Killian stepped out of one trouser leg and then set to work on the difficult process of sliding the other leg over the shackle, chain, and spherical weight attached to his ankle. The bottom cuff of the garment was much too narrow, and though it had been stretched by days of motion by the chain, Killian ended up tearing some of the threads in the seam in order to fully fit the ball through. He growled a soft curse at the impediment. Then he removed his socks, folded these and his trousers, and set them neatly near the pillow. He had just spread the blanket over his bare legs when one of Mandible’s assistants darted into the alcove to retrieve the chamber pot. Just as he’d suspected. Killian waited until he had left to begin unbuttoning his shirt.
It wasn’t that he was particularly ashamed of his body. True, he wasn’t in tip-top shape anymore. He had aged since Neverland, and although a decade of scaling Alice’s tower so frequently had kept him spry, that had obviously ended with the curse, and he was maybe slightly softer around the middle these days. But that hardly mattered; he wasn’t here to impress anyone. It just felt odd to be unclothed in front of too many strange monkeys, even when they themselves didn’t wear any clothes! It was the vulnerability of the matter, perhaps. And if many hundreds of years of dubious bodily autonomy didn’t grant him the right to be particularly covetous of it now, he didn’t know what would.
His stained, torn shirt joined the rest of the pile. He could hear the team of healers chatting in low tones on the other side of the screen, though he could not make out any words. He tried to picture what it must have been like, growing up here, in safety, with a large crowd of friends and siblings and not much to worry about beyond simple daily tasks. And the Less, of course. Which, he reflected, may pose more of a problem than upon first impression. Why else would they need such a well-stocked medicine supply and more than one healer?
Mandible must have been listening for the cessation of the rustling of movement to indicate when Killian was ready. After one moment more, he peeked around the corner, and Killian gave him an affirmatory nod. Mandible, in turn, glanced behind himself and made a gesture, then approached, lugging his animal-skin pouch in his wake. One of the assistants followed with a brightly glowing stone in hand; Killian had never seen the like, and he surmised it must be magical.
“Do you think you can lie comfortably on your back?”
Killian appreciated the question; the healer knew the constellation of fishhook injuries would be bothering him. But having lived through far worse, Killian thought he could tolerate it and nodded. “I might fall asleep, though, so you’ve been warned.”
As Killian struggled the heavy ball up onto the bed, gingerly pulled his legs up, and prepared to lie back, Mandible replied,
“There will be time for that later.”
Wincing, Killian drew some slow breaths to combat the increased pain as his back contacted the bed’s surface. He arranged the blanket loosely across his torso, figuring the healers would soon need access to his chest. Tucking his left arm beneath the wool, he draped his right over his abdomen, feeling the prickly tug of the Warrior Ant jaws holding the wound closed. He tried to relax as the initial fire in his back began to fade.
Both healers leapt up onto the bed next to Killian, and the one bearing the stone light scooted over to his other side. Mandible set his pouch near Killian’s head, saying,
“This is Aura. She will be providing light and assistance as needed.”
Killian flashed her a tight smile. “Hello, Aura.”
She nodded back, a serious expression on her silky flaxen face. Killian couldn’t help wishing she appeared a bit more relaxed; her somber attitude wasn’t helping his own anxiety at the moment. He drew another calming breath and turned his attention back to Mandible.
“Let me first check your arm,” said the healer as he began to gently unwrap the bandages around Killian’s forearm. Killian closed his eyes and imagined he was in his bunk on the Jolly Roger, with Mister Smee tending to a wound he’d received being an idiot pirate, his mind occupied with thoughts of Pan and the Dark One rather than his separation from his daughter. In some ways, that old angst was preferable to his current suffering, although, obviously, he in no way wished to go back to the days before he’d been given the most precious gift of his life…
With Aura providing well-aimed lighting, Mandible was quick to assure himself that the ant heads remained in place and no infection was obvious yet. He carefully applied some herbal ointment to the wound and wrapped it with fresh leaves and skins. He would save the fishhook injuries until later, but some of the other, deeper cuts should be washed and re-dressed soon. However, Mandible wanted to give himself as much time as possible to collect the required information about the curse on Killian’s heart, so that he could research and perhaps concoct a cure while the Torn ally was gone on his mission. So he set aside his bandages for the time being and moved his focus to Killian’s overall state of being.
Killian opened his eyes when he felt a small paw rest gently on his forehead, perhaps assessing for fever? Could the monkey really be so practiced that he knew what a normal human temperature felt like by touch alone?
“The healing is progressing as expected,” reported Mandible. “If you keep your wounds clean and dry, I would not anticipate complication. Now, if you are agreeable, I would like to collect two samples of blood, one from a peripheral site in the usual fashion, and one from the area just above your poisoned heart.”
Unsurprised, Killian nodded. “I thought you might. You have my consent for whatever you think is necessary to pursue a possible cure.”
“Very good. Aura, please retrieve the collection set; enlist Vision and Measure if you need assistance.”
Killian heard the assistant leap to the cave floor and bound away on the mission she’d been assigned. He closed his eyes and willed himself to relax. The unpleasantness would be over soon, and if it yielded any result, it would be more than worth it.
While they waited, Mandible pulled the blanket off Killian’s feet and lower legs, hissed at the chafing from the ankle shackle, and said,
“I was unaware of the extent of this injury. I already have Molten working on a method for removing your burden, and once I have completed my tests, I will dress any other wounds requiring attention.”
“Thank you,” Killian replied. The very act of having another being observe the irritated skin was driving the pain level higher, and he looked forward to the prospect of being freed. If only the weight on his soul could be so easily removed…
“This?” came a soft squeak from ground level, and Mandible repositioned the blanket over Killian’s feet.
“Yes, thank you, Aura. I will need some light now.”
A slight give in the padding beneath Killian told him Aura had joined her boss up on the bedside. A moment later, Mandible vaulted over Killian’s hip to face him.
The healer’s bloodletting equipment appeared to be fairly standard, although his blades were made of razor stone and not the typical tarnished metal. The healer settled himself at Killian's left side and curled his fluffy tail below his elbow as a tourniquet: another departure from the norm. He positioned a collection vessel beneath Killian's wrist, then swiftly cleaned and punctured the skin over the larger vein that would have drained the thumbward side of his hand. The stone was so sharp that it took a heartbeat or two for the pain to register as blood began dripping down into the vessel below. Keeping a watchful eye on the process, Mandible requested,
“Please tell me, in as much detail as you can, the story of how your heart came to be poisoned, and its exact effects on your physiology.”
Haltingly, Killian began to recount the tragic tale, barely managing to keep his emotions in check as he relived the hubris that had caused such grief, those first agonizing nights apart from his daughter, the helplessness and desperation that he still felt when he thought of his Alice, trapped and alone, with no human comfort to be had.
By this time, the blood in the bowl had reached the depth of at least half an average human finger. Mandible loosened his grip with his tail, placing a pawful of plant fibers over the sluggish crimson stream. Then he wrapped a hide bandage over the dressing. Without being bidden, Killian pressed his palm over the small cut, applying pressure while Mandible secured the first blood sample.
“It may be different if she were older, although I imagine the pain would be the same. But she’s still just a child, and it’s been months… I can’t do this much longer…”
Mandible heard the anguish in his voice and looked up. “I understand, Laden. We will try everything we can think of, you have my word.”
Tearfully, Killian met his gaze and nodded wordless thanks. Taking a position closer to Killian’s shoulder, Mandible reached into his pouch and drew out a funnel-shaped device.
“You described the curse pain as sharp, like knives in your chest, yes?”
“Aye.” The word came out constricted and bitter, sounding broken. “And the closer I get to her, the more intense it gets, and the further its range. Touching her… I’ve only managed it once, and I was thrown violently backwards. And it spreads, until every inch of me is engulfed…” His voice cracked. “I’ve told myself it’s not a weakness to avoid that pain, that it would kill me if I ignored it for too long, yet a part of me feels so selfish for keeping my distance.”
“It is out of your control, not a moral failing on your part. It sounds as though the curse physically moves you, regardless of your intentions.” Mandible clambered over to Killian’s other side to give himself better access to the poisoned heart. “Now, please continue to breathe normally and stop speaking while I listen.”
Killian obeyed as Mandible rested the wider end of the funnel against his chest, over his heart, bringing his miniature, tufted ear down to the smaller end to listen. The healer’s validation, well-intentioned as it was, could not overcome the irrational guilt Killian carried. Maybe he could not be in the tower with Alice, but he could theoretically stay at its base, guarding it, conversing with her from afar, providing her with the non-essentials that did not magically replenish themselves. He had done so for the first several weeks, in fact, while they both struggled to come to terms with their new reality. But like an insidious mold creeping along a damp baseboard, the curse had inexorably spread outward from its victim, slowly tightening the vise within Killian’s chest until he could no longer endure standing directly at the base of the tower. And he had backed off a bit, hoping that would be the extent of it, until day by day, he found himself measurably farther away, less able to hear Alice as she went about her confined life in the tower, struggling to communicate with her and ascertain her needs, or provide the hollow reassurance she was too smart to believe anyway.
Eventually, it had gotten so bad that just being within sight of the tower caused his rib cage to constrict, his lungs providing the bare minimum of oxygen, the pain radiating to every fingertip and toenail, and so he’d just… stopped. Stopped fighting, stopped making the attempt. He’d told himself it was so he could have the freedom to search for a cure, but deep in his heart, he admitted to himself it was a fear of the pain that he’d given in to. What kind of father would do that?
He would never forgive himself for that failure.
Mandible had spent so long listening to Killian’s chest that it seemed he must have fallen asleep using the funnel as a pillow. But just as Killian was debating whether to clear his throat or make some small movement to rouse him, the healer monkey straightened and asked,
“Could you kindly position yourself on your side so I may listen from the back?”
Killian stiffly rolled onto his right side and settled into as comfortable a position as he could manage, while both Mandible and Aura scampered around behind him. He felt the funnel device rest against his back, and again Mandible listened for a long while. This time, though, he instructed Killian to take deeper breaths at intervals, and hold it in between, while hopefully hearing whatever clues he needed to form a picture in his mind of Killian’s particular ailment.
When enough time had elapsed, Mandible set aside his listening device, saying,
“I do not detect anything out of the ordinary, at least nothing obvious. But perhaps the poison will be evident within the blood collected today. I am familiar with many of this realm’s plants and their effects. If one of their toxins is responsible, I am hopeful we will have the ability to craft an antidote.”
The next blood collection vessel appeared to have a rim shaped directly off the side and covering nearly half of the hole in its top. The healer lit a long twig from the flame of an oil lantern, passing it to Aura once it burned steadily. Killian couldn't imagine what its purpose might be, nor enjoyed any of the possibilities that came to mind, but he had given his permission for Mandible to collect whatever samples he needed, and it was for a good cause, after all. He stayed silent and watched the duo as they worked.
Mandible produced his blade, made two quick slashes on Killian's chest just above his heart, then had Aura hold the smoldering twig inside the collection cup for a handful of seconds. Then, moving quickly, he pivoted, ready to position the vessel over the slow trickle of blood welling from the cuts. Killian closed one eye in anticipation of a scalding touch, but all he felt was the continued sting from the double cuts Mandible had inflicted. The cup rested against his chest with its lip on the bottom edge so that, when Mandible eventually determined it was time to remove it, its contents would be contained.
Catching sight of Killian's skeptical eye, the healer explained,
“The flame creates a suction that helps to draw blood to the surface. If the curse is contained within, I am hopeful that this technique will help us in our study.”
“Clever,” Killian replied, impressed despite himself. He'd never seen such a process before, and that was saying something. He prayed that the unique techniques in use within this unlikely location portended breakthroughs to come. None of the other, more traditional practitioners he had visited had detected any trace of the poison within his bloodstream… but perhaps this time would be different.
***
Not long after Mandible had begun to dress the wound on Killian's chest, a new member of the First Clan appeared around the privacy screen. His fur was slate gray, he had a ruff of white, and the skin on his face was a striking collage of blue, red, and yellow.
“Molten,” greeted Mandible. “We are nearly ready for you.”
Killian recognized the name as the one who would be ridding him of his shackle, if all went according to plan. Though its connotation inspired caution, he did not appear to be carrying anything hot, just a trusty old file like those Killian had used himself on occasion.
Aura carefully retreated with his blood samples, and Molten took her place on the bed. He was tall enough that he did not have to leap up like the others, which hinted at the power that would be required to cut through the metal band around Killian's ankle. Finished applying the leaf bandages, Mandible positioned himself behind his patient and turned his attention to the inflamed fishhook punctures scattered at regular intervals all down his back.
Molten folded back the blanket concealing Killian's shackled ankle. Fabric brushed the raw skin, conjuring visions of the monkey's file slipping off of its intended track and adding its own mark to the scrapes already there. Killian almost sat up then, nervously saying,
“I've done this sort of thing before, mate; perhaps I should save you the trouble…”
Mandible rested a paw on his elbow. “Just relax now, Laden. Molten has a very steady paw.”
“I will take great care,” confirmed the larger animal as he slipped the edge of the blanket beneath the iron band to add a layer of protection between Killian's skin and his file. Killian lay back slowly. If Mandible trusted him…
As both monkeys proceeded with their respective tasks, Mandible said,
“I have promised to provide Favor with your answer to our proposed agreement by sunset. I realize that you may not feel physically capable of a rescue attempt at this time, but I also believe that you must understand his urgency. Would you like more time to consider?”
Sighing, Killian closed his eyes. Mandible was right about both statements. If they allowed him weeks of recovery time beforehand, that would be one thing, but he doubted Favor would have that amount of patience. “How far is it to the Less Clan territory?”
“Being forced to navigate the canyons as you would be, I would estimate half a day’s journey, assuming you do not take a wrong turn. We will provide you with a detailed map.”
That did not sound too bad. Theoretically, he could complete the mission within a single day. But it would do Alice no good if he were slain in the attempt. “And if I refuse? What happens then?”
Both monkeys paused for a moment. Quietly, Mandible replied,
“I could not guarantee your safety in that case. There are still those among us who believe that no Torn intruder should be allowed to leave the Stone Forest alive.”
So, certain death on one hand, possible death on the other. As he had suspected, but it was helpful to have it spelled out in no uncertain terms.
“Well, it appears I have no choice, doesn’t it?” Killian opened his eyes and turned his head to meet Mandible’s unflinching gaze. “You can tell Favor I will act as the First Clan champion. But the sooner I am required to depart, the smaller my chances of success.”
Mandible resumed his work, and Molten took that as his cue to continue as well. Killian could see the tension drain away from both monkeys’ movements.
“Understood, Laden. I will argue for Favor’s patience on your behalf. Once you have been freed and your wounds tended, you may remain here for uninterrupted rest, and we will provide food and medicine for your continued recovery.” Here he paused once more, but only briefly, adding, “You have the sincere thanks of the entire clan for your willingness to risk your safety for our princess.”
Killian made a rueful face. “Don’t thank me yet. Success has been a complete stranger for far too long now. This would be an extremely fortuitous time to get reacquainted.”
#ouat fanfiction#laden of the torn#wish hook#ouat blackbeard#knightrook angst#guilt#healing#blood samples#fire cupping#poisoned heart#wound care#making deals#i intentionally made the monkeys' speech similar to killian's#especially mandible's#because the translator potion uses Killian's own speech patterns to interpret what they are saying to him#if anyone was wondering :P
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This week, because I felt like treating myself, I picked up a new Oracle deck. The one I've been using up til now is a Goddess Oracle, and while I've found it very helpful during specific issues and it will absolutely still have a place in my practice, it is extremely gendered in its expression and so I needed something that spoke to the genderless cryptid in me. Sooo animals it is haha. Anyway, I worked it into my month at a glance practice as I finished up my work day today, and so far... I think we're vibing. Here's the whole mess.
I started by drawing the rune for the day: Hagalaz.
First, the fact that I am ending the month of June on the exact same rune I started it on is... telling. This month sucked! There was a lot going on, and very little of it was good. This rune represents chaos, destruction, transformation, etc... It means "hail" so... consider the damage that hail does. That's kinda where we're at here. But the important thing to remember here is that the storms are temporary, and you learn where not to park your car in the process. So I'm coming out of this month a little worse for wear, but we're learning.
Next, I drew my cards specifically with the intention of looking forward to the month of July: what am I coming in with, what are we going to encounter, and what am I leaving with?
NEAT.
So Four of Cups absolutely tracks. I am... not really in a good place at the moment? This whole chronic illness thing has been kicking my ass on a psychological level as well as physical, so... yeah, the depression card makes sense here lol. I'm coming into July with sad bitch energy.
King of Wands is an interesting play here. About half the time it shows up, it's representing my partner, and I think that's the case here - he's an island in the sea of awful. However, given the arguably negative aspect to this card's position, it's most likely also warning against setting unrealistic expectations for myself. Which... tracks.
This is supported by our good buddy Ten of Swords here in the future position, which... well, the good news is that the ten card is the "completion" card. There is a light at the end of the tunnel and The Horrors are going to be concluding. The bad news: I still have to finish experiencing The Horrors. Which... I guess I expected. This ain't gonna resolve itself in a day.
In short, July is also gonna suck, but... in a less depressing way? And it's probably going to look up in August. So that's... Good I guess lol.
So finally, I decided to check in with my new Oracle deck about what energy I should approach the coming month with. And the answer it gave me:
Keep finding happiness in the little things, and hold onto that light at the end of the tunnel. Don't let circumstances keep you down.
So... deep breaths. It's gonna suck. But remember to see the good, no matter how small.
#lp tarot#lp runes#lp isn't making another custom tag#oracle deck can fall under tarot i guess idk#cute tho#the gold accents are nice#the cards are very shiny tho#... i share many traits with magpies#including my proclivity for putting things in my pockets
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It’s that time of year again, time to look over the last twelve months of creative productivity! This was my busiest year for freelance animation EVER, with six projects all pretty much one after the other, some of which lasted several months! For the first time in over ten years animation actually felt like my main job! Read on for full details on each month (with links to things in bold)!
January:
I kickstarted the year with an attempt to keep myself busy (haha) by coming up with weekly personal illustrations to work on while livestreaming. This included a couple based on childhood toys, followed by fan art of games I was playing at the time.
I also started my first freelance gig of the year about visiting a recycling center for Love Essex, which was finished and released in early Feb.
February:
I continued the weekly art streams (though I did skip one week while I was wrapping up the animation work) that included more Balan Wonderworld fan art and another nostalgia trip based around old TV game show Fun House which was seen and approved by Pat Sharp himself!
I also made some Valentine’s day silliness for CherryT and with her help also created this ridiculous Art Data-Blast video featuring all of my art over the years with a 90′s TV inspired intro.
March:
A big turning point for my livestreams arrived here when I decided to create a PNGTuber using Veadotube Mini! I livestreamed the majority of my experimentation and process and the cutdown videos about it became some of my biggest hits on YouTube yet! Going forward I would now use this animated avatar instead of a webcam, though this would actually end up being the last month of the year that I’d have any time to livestream because...
April:
..April would be the start of one of the biggest projects: six one-minute animated shorts for the Scottish Illegal Money Lending Unit about the dangers of loan sharks. This month was spent mostly storyboarding most of the films and completing the first one.
At the same time concepts were being developed for another six-minute piece of animation that I would need to juggle alongside the above project over the coming months!
I should also mention here life-wise I changed my daily job from working in a cinema to...working in a smaller, closer to home cinema!
May:
This month was mostly spent storyboarding for the second big project and waiting around for approval while the Loan Shark project was put on hold, so while I had a bit of spare time I gave my website a new lick of paint (including some new art of old characters) and made several illustrations including my favorite Eurovision 2022 act (now my most popular Tumblr post ever for some reason!), joining in on the Catoon Network CMYK art fad, and fan art of a fellow PNGTuber. I was also commissioned by Jadypie to create some cute animal Twitch emotes!
June:
After two pieces of quick art including another obscure game character and another excuse to draw Amy Rose, me and CherryT took a couple days away to visit the theme park Alton Towers, which I made a travel vlog about!
The 2nd film for the Stop Loan Sharks series was completed this month and this was when the 2nd big project was given the official go ahead! The six-and a half minute long film has yet to be released and might end up staying in the private sector but it was a pre-birth social work training video for Essex County Council with a similar subject matter and art style to the Annabelle’s Journey film I made last year. Clips of it can be seen in my latest showreel.
I also drew these guys for some reason.
July:
This month was almost exclusively knuckling down to get the un-released film fully animated. Much like the Annabelle film this was a massive amount of hand-drawn animation squeezed into just over one month! I also made time to do this commission for PCWzrd.
August:
With that long, time-consuming project out of the way it was time to jump back into the Loan Shark films. Two were completed in April and June but I still had four to go, so this month and most of September was day-to-day animating again!
September:
I was getting these Loan Shark films done at a rate of roughly 10 days per film, though the last one took a little longer as it was yet to be storyboarded until now. This project was finally complete midway through the month and released near the end!
Somewhere in the middle of all this I managed to fit in some livestreams of the Sonic Fan Games Expo and some reactions to some gaming events.
In the last week of the month I worked on a pretty exciting commission that I need to stay tight-lipped about for now!
October:
This month was started by wrapping up the above commission and jumping into another, thankfully much shorter 1 minute animation for the English Stop Loan Sharks company that has also not yet seen the light of day, but you can see a short clip of it in my latest showreel. As soon as that was done another big project approached!
November:
This freelance gig started at the end of October and lasted all through November and up until the middle of December! This one has released in January 2023, a short film called What a Waste!
There was a break at the end of November when me and CherryT went to Birmingham for a few days to finally go to a concert we booked back in early 2020 that kept getting delayed!
Mid-month I also quickly doodled up my OC a couple times.
Above: the moment I finished an 8-week long non-stop project on a to do list!
December:
What a Waste ended up taking longer than I anticipated at around seven or eight weeks total, most likely because it’s quite unlike anything I have done before. After what felt like roughly nine months of almost non-stop animating the last half-month of the year was spent last-minute Christmas shopping and finally chilling out a bit, including going to a local video games expo for the weekend! The last piece of art I did this year was for the Newgrounds Secret Santa.
That was an intense year! I can’t wait till you get to see the stuff that’s not out there yet and in terms of 2023 I do already have a couple things queued up for January so we’ll see how it goes I guess!
Previous years: 2021 - 2020 - 2019 - 2018 - 2017 - 2016
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"Shine your shoes, kid?"
Charlie had no idea what struck them about him. Maybe it was the faint smell of cinnamon, maybe it was the way he looked at them like they just insulted the guy, maybe it was just an itch, a feeling, a click. Regardless, Charlie nearly shivered with anticipation.
"Take a seat, bud. First time? Hey, I know that feeling, first time, you never forget it; tell you what, for you, new guy, pay what you want. You tell me how good I do, see for yourself, don't take my word for it. What do I call you?"
Bradley. Not Brad - he was insistent - but Bradley. Middle aged, probably just straight human by the look of him, hints of gray showing at his temples, crow's feet, and a wrinkle in his brow. Charlie nodded along, humming as they removed the laces of Bradley's shoes, some faux leather jobbers, and placed them in a bag with a cleaning solution, before shaking them vigorously. They'd sit for a while, to be replaced in the end.
"You a talker, Bradley? You like to jabber? My hairdresser, bless her, she can gossip for hours if you let her, I tell ya, you can hardly get a word in around her. I love the gal, but take a look at me and tell me I look like I went to the hairdresser lately, you know what I mean? Haha. But hey, c'mon, I know folks don't come here to listen to me. Relax, kid, you're gonna walk away feeling like a million bucks. Or at least ten, right?"
Punctuated by a friendly soft elbowing to the shin that got a huff of a laugh and a smile, at least, Bradley adjusted in his seat and leaned back as Charlie got to work. A little saddle soap - a sharp pine tar scent - to clean the grime, working the brush in smooth, quick circles. A little cream polish, a little wax, rubbed in with similar practiced movements, and buffed with a horsehair brush. Can't forget the edge dressing, Charlie, gotta get every detail. Turn that pleather into a mirror. Both Charlie and Bradley were quiet - one transfixed with focus, and the other by the almost magical process, the humming and the almost rhythmic motion of fingers trapping the eye in something otherwise so very mundane. Before either of them knew it, twenty minutes had come and gone. True to Charlie's word, Bradley's shoes had never looked better. True to their suggestion, it was worth a ten-spot. At least.
"Hey, hey, look at you, high roller. Glad you're satisfied, and if you ever need the hardest working part of your wardrobe to look like it isn't - or if you got friends that do - tell 'em about me, will ya? Old cats like me gotta eat somehow and I'm not much of a rat fella; ratfolks don't like that line of joking, haha."
Wherever Bradley went after, pausing just before he left the view of the shop window to admire Charlie's work once more, was irrelevant if it wasn't home. The easy-going grin dropped like a lead weight from Charlie's lips as they slipped into a back room, and a room beyond and below that one. They drew a dagger, set it aside, and dug out from a filing cabinet a stone bowl so old and cracked, it was a small miracle the thing hadn't fallen to pieces. Placing the money in the bowl and repeating a divination with a quiet, slow, almost cooing tongue, the ten dollar bill burst into intense heat at the strike of a dagger point. It burned only briefly, but in the ashes that resulted there swirled colors that coalesced into a perfectly clear view of Bradley and his surroundings.
Charlie watched in silence, attention rapt, as they memorized every step home that Bradley took. Three blocks past the bank, a left onto River Street, four blocks down, right onto Old Willow. A quaint little place, far as city houses go, and sky blue with white window trimmings. Across from the movie rental place. Charlie let out a shuddering, excited breath before returning the scrying bowl back to its secret place and tucking the dagger back into their belt sheath.
"Yeah, that's the ticket. Every move you make, kid, it's gonna be mine."
Charlie closed early for the night. They had much to see.
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Hellooo, may I please get a reading on how my upcoming university year (2nd year) will go socially ? Will I be able to be in new friend groups and go out ? A lot of my groups that I made this year are scattered or left town and i’m socially anxious so it sucks to lose my entourage like that especially since I got used to them and to going out every single day haha.
Thank youuuuu💕💕 (ma, he/him, 20’s)😊
Hello! I'd be happy to pull a couple cards for you.
For you, I drew the Ten of Pentacles (reversed), the Tower (reversed), and the Two of Pentacles (reversed).
Oh, what a hand. I can clearly see how the loss of these groups has unsettled and destabilized you in the Ten and Four of Pentacles. It seems like your core of balance and security has disappeared beneath your feet, leaving you feeling alone and lost.
These cards appearing this way affirms that it's okay to grieve the loss of their constant presence. In fact, the reversed Tower is, in my opinion, the best card of this hand. It's encouraging you to face this change head-on. You don't have any say in the loss, but you do have a say in how you handle it from here.
I want to say yes, you'll be able to find new groups, but not if you sit in your room by yourself. You'll have to rely on yourself to get out and meet people. It doesn't seem like there will be quality introductions from people you already know; it'll be up to you to decide where to go and what opportunities to take.
As someone who also has social anxiety, I don't say this lightly! It'll be hard, don't get me wrong, but it's time to practice. Start small, like talking to people in a Discord. Maybe join (or start!) a club on campus. In any case, you'll have to put in the legwork. You've been avoiding it for so long out of fear, but now there's no avoiding it: You must be social on your own terms.
Good luck!
-Aese
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Under My Skin - Matthew Tkachuk
Word Count: 3,644
POV: Reader
Warnings: Language, Smut, NSFW
Summary: Matthew can be a pest but what happens when your ex, Auston Matthews get under his skin.
Notes: So I’m having a sad bitch moment and thought, why not post this. I finally broke down and wrote for this boy. Who knows if it’ll happen again...haha! At any rate hope you guys enjoy. Happy Reading!
Matthew first met you over a year ago when you’d moved to Calgary for work. You had just finished your degree and a job opportunity had landed you in the same city where he was playing. You’d been out at the bar with some co-workers and had caught his eye immediately. You were everything that Matthew was looking for in a woman, smart, funny, incredibly gorgeous, with a charm that seemed to draw everyone around you in. You were like a magnet and Matthew couldn’t resist your pull.
That first night he’d barely been able to talk to you. You’d been besotted with people left and right, and it seemed as though every time Matthew worked up the courage to speak with you, you would get pulled away. Matthew finally ran into you on the way to the restroom. Like, literally ran into you. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Matthew apologized steadying you with a hand on your waist. His hand lingered a little longer than necessary but you weren’t complaining.
“It’s ok I wasn’t paying attention.” You held up your phone in defense. You’d been so distracted by a text, that you really weren’t watching where you were going. “Did you ever have someone text you that you hoped you’d never hear from again?”
It was an interesting introduction to a conversation but then Matthew would take any opportunity he could get to speak to you. “Actually, yes.”
“It’s so annoying, right?”
“Well, there is a way to solve that problem.”
Your eyes held his with rapt attention, and Matthew could tell you were clinging to his every word. It was then that it struck him that he never wanted that look to fade from your face. “How?”
“Come have a drink with me and forgot about whoever it is on that phone.” You smiled. It was a bright, brilliant thing of beauty that Matthew swore could light up the night sky on its darkest days. He was sold right then and there, and with just that simple gesture you had no idea that you’d swooped in and stolen his heart that night.
You forgot about that text message fairly quickly and just settled into an easy conversation with Matthew. The night flew by and before you knew it, your co-workers were calling it a night and you were all heading home. Matthew asked for your number which you gave in hopes that he would call you soon. Little did you know that after you left, Matthew debated with himself on how long to wait to text you. Every unsaid rule in the code of dating said to wait for at least forty-eight to seventy-two hours before making a move, but Matthew was never one to follow convention. As he lay in bed, he decided to send you a quick message.
Had a great time tonight.
It was short and to the point, and Matthew figured if you answered then he would ask you out again. Unfortunately, for Matthew, he wasn’t the only one texting you as you crawled into bed after taking off all your makeup. You were just getting ready to reply to Matthew when another text came in. It was the fourth of the night from the same person that had messaged you before, Auston Matthews.
You hadn’t spoken to him in months, back when you were in Toronto, and you didn’t plan on speaking to him now, though he seemed to be trying his hardest to get your attention, just as he had been for the last couple of months. Your relationship with Auston had been nothing short of toxic. Oh sure, at first it was all hearts and roses in the beginning. Auston swept you off your feet with that charming smile of his, but then you were young and the flashy NHLer said all the right things, at first.
You weren’t normally one to tumble into bed right after the first date, though that’s what happened with Auston. He made it seem like you were the only one, but after dating him for only four months you’d found out that wasn’t true. Oh, he tried to brush it off, make it seem like he wasn’t cheating. That the panties you’d found lying tucked between the nightstand and the bed were some old fling and not some random hookup he’d brought home. You wanted to believe him and so you let your heart overpower your head and stayed with him until you’d literally walked in on him in bed with another woman. There was no talking his way out of that one.
It was an easy decision to break things off with him, though he kept trying to win you back. You were good for his image and he thought that he could keep you happy while he had some fun on the side. The only thing was you didn’t want him back, even though his friends tried to helped his cause. That’s when you decided to take the job in Calgary. It was an easy decision six months ago. Which is part of the reason it surprised you when he texted tonight. He was in Calgary for a game and wanted to talk. You’d honestly were debating seeing him when you’d run into Matthew.
Matthew, you sighed. His curly hair and shaved sides gave off this bad boy vibe, but as you sat there and talked to him, you’d realized he had to be one of the sweetest men out there. You hadn’t realized at first who he actually was. Auston had turned you off to the NHL scene altogether, so you no longer paid attention to the games, even if hockey was Canada’s major sport. Honestly, you wish you didn’t know he was in the NHL. It was part of the reason you were debating about answering him. Maybe you would just sleep on it and decide in the morning.
Meanwhile, Matthew was having a mild panic attack. He told himself that maybe you lived close to the bar and had already fallen asleep before you got his text, or that you’d turned off your phone the minute you got home. He constantly kept checking his, looking for those three little dots letting him know that you were sending something back. It was torturous.
You laid there all of twenty minutes before you decided that you couldn’t resist the curly-haired man that had captured your attention tonight. Grabbing your phone, you shot off a quick, I did too. You typed and erased it three times, wondering if you should add more before finally pressing the send button. There it was done, if he said something back, you’d go from there. Fifteen seconds later, you knew you were in trouble.
Maybe we could do it again sometime?
Matthew was sweating as he hit send. He’d never been this nervous before about a woman. They either liked him or didn’t, but you, you were different. He knew that from the moment he saw you. It was even more prevalent now after he’d spent most of the night with you.
I’d like that.
Was your simple reply back. One that had Matthew ready to jump up and out of bed with excitement. And so the texting went on for the next ten minutes until he finally ended up calling you. The two of you talked for over an hour, almost as if you’d known each other all your lives, and you completely forgot about the texts from Auston.
Matthew took you out three days later to an exclusive restaurant in the city. This time you told yourself you’d not make the same mistake you’d made with Auston. So, when the night drew to a close, Matthew drove you to your apartment then very properly walked you to the door and only kissed you on the cheek. It wasn’t what you expected. You’d thought he’d go for more, but Matthew wanted to do things right. He knew you were special and he wasn’t going to mess things up by sleeping with you on night one. He was in this for the long run.
That was over a year ago. Sure, it had been difficult at first to give him your complete trust, but Matthew had earned it and over time you knew that although he may be a pest on the ice, he was anything but that in your personal life. Now the two of you shared a home and were on your way to making a life together.
You’d kept your relationship on the down-low, staying off of all forms of social media to keep the wolves at bay. Which meant that no one, including Auston, knew that you and Matthew were dating. That was until he and everyone else saw you in the background of Taryn’s video for Brady’s twenty-first birthday. The picture highlighted Brady but behind him, there was Matthew nibbling on your neck and ear. Fans picked up on it right away, wondering who you were and Matthew decided he was tired of hiding the two of you. A week later he was posting a picture of the two of you holding hands on your way back to Calgary.
That was dozens of posts and months ago. Your life with Matthew was nothing short of amazing, until the Flames played the Leafs. Matthew was in Toronto while you stayed back in Calgary for work. It was an early game and you joined the other wives and significant others in a small little watch party. Drinks were flowing freely, so you really didn’t catch the exchange between Matthew and Auston in warmups.
Matthew was minding his own business as he stretched near the centerline. That’s when Auston started with the little jabs. “Nice little piece of ass you picked up Tkachuk.” Matthew was used to guys talking shit about all kinds of things on the ice, though normally it was about him being a dirty player or how Brady was the better Tkachuk on the ice; all that shit he could handle. He wasn’t used to someone taking stabs at you.
“Shut the fuck up Matthews,” he replied then skated away. If Auston was looking for a fight, he’d get one if he kept up this banter, but not until the game started.
It wasn’t until the end of the first that Auston got a chance to chirp Matthew again. “Tell me, Tkachuk, does (Y/N) still make the same pretty moans…”
“Finish that and you’ll regret it,” Matthew told him. It was the only warning Matthew was going to give. Of course, Matthew knew that you’d dated someone in the hockey world and that he’d been a verifiable asshole. He’d never pressed the issue too much as he was trying to turn that stigma about hockey players around. He never liked Auston, he was always cordial to him in non-ice settings but now that he knew he was the cheating bastard who basically used you; he liked him less.
Play resumed before anything else could happen and Matthew was sure to get in a few good checks in before heading back for the first intermission. When he was back on the ice for the second Auston picked up right where they had left off. “So, you like my sloppy seconds, Tkachuk?” Matthew saw red at the insult, and before he knew what he was doing he dropped his gloves and hit Auston. Inwardly, you cringed at the fight, not wanting to let on to the other girls that you had an idea what the exchange was about. Auston went down easy, with Matthew barely touching him, and so off the penalty box he went, while the Leafs went on the power play. You could see him just sitting there stewing, though you weren’t sure if he was mad at himself for letting Auston get to him or mad at you.
The game ended up tied in the third, and little did you know that Auston took the opportunity to get a few more digs into Matthew. “Does she get as wet for as she did for me, or do you have to work for it?” Johnny had to hold him back from leveling him after that, but Auston didn’t let up. “She was such a fucking slut for me in bed. You know I fucked every hole…” That’s all he got out before going down hard as Matthew planted a right hook to his jaw. But Matthew wasn’t done and went after Auston as he lay on the ice. Matthew was ejected from the game and the Leafs scored on the power play.
There was no interview after the game with Matthew, so you had no idea what he was feeling or how pissed he was. As soon as you got home, you tried to call him but it went straight to voicemail. You tried to tell yourself it didn’t mean anything that maybe he never turned his phone back on after the game or maybe they were already on the flight back to Calgary, as the team played at home the following day, but you just weren’t sure. So, you laid in the king-size bed you shared with Matthew, wrapped up in your favorite old t-shirt of his, simply staring up at the ceiling.
At some point, you must have fallen asleep, for you didn’t hear the door open or Matthew dropping his bag like you usually did. It wasn’t until he crept into bed that you finally knew he was home. He was laying on his back, hands behind his head when you finally rolled over letting him know you were awake. You’d thought about what to say to him before falling asleep but waited for him to say something to you. When he didn’t you simply whispered, “If you want me to go I will.”
“Go?” Matthew questioned now rolling on to his side so he could see you. “Why would I want you to leave?”
“I never wanted to be a problem for you, Matthew, especially not with other players.” It was part of the reason you’d never told him that you’d dated Auston, though you should’ve known that Auston couldn’t keep his mouth shut.
You went to say more, but Matthew stopped you. “You’re not the problem (Y/N). You could never be one.” His fingers ran up and down your arms lightly, just caressing your skin. “I love you, baby.”
“I love you too.” His lips found yours then, and you melted into the feel of him, savoring how his body started to relax against you.
“Auston’s an asshole.” Matthew finally said, when the two of you broke apart.
“Do I even want to know what he said?”
“Just shit to get me riled up, and it worked.” Your one hand went to the back of his neck, massaging the knotted muscles there. “I’m not stupid. I realize what probably happened between the two of you. I just don’t like hearing it.”
“We both have pasts, Matthew. We can’t change that, but you’re my future.”
He gave you a real quick peck to your lips. “And you’re mine. At least I don’t have to deal with him for a couple weeks.”
You pushed him onto his back before straddling his hips. “Don’t let him get under your skin, babe. When he starts to say something…” you looked him right in the eyes. “And you know he will. Just remind him how you’re the only one I want with me.” You flexed your hips before running your hands up his bare chest. “And in me.” Matthew’s hands went to your waist, where he played with the band of lace on your panties. “You’re more to me than he’ll ever be. Both here,” you taped your heart and then his. “And here.” Lifting your hips, you took your hand and cupped the length of him. His cock instantly hardened under your touch.
Your words spurred Matthew into action, for the next thing you knew he was ripping your panties, before shimming out of his boxers. His fingers went to your folds, where he found you ready for him. “Fuck you’re so wet.”
“Only for you Matthew. Only for you.” It was extra reassurance that you knew Matthew needed and tonight you’d give him as many as he needed. He guided your hips down onto his cock and you sighed out with pleasure as he filled you like no one else ever had.
As you grabbed the hem of your t-shirt Matthew whispered harshly, “Leave it on.” It was one of his Flames shirts; one that had both his name and number on the back. Leaning down you kissed him long and hard, before starting to ride him. It was slow at first, a pace meant to build you both up but not push you over the edge. His hands were everywhere, under your shirt caressing your breasts, wandering down your back to cup your ass, and moving up and down your thighs to quicken your speed.
Finally, he couldn’t take it any longer and he flipped your bodies so that he loomed over top of you. His thrusts were deep and hard, almost punishing if your body hadn’t wanted him so bad. “You belong to me.” He said as he flexed into you, pushing you up against the headboard.
“Yes, baby. Only you.”
“Who?” He asked again and you realized that he was not in the mood to hear any pet names.
“You, Matthew, you,” you answered knowing that he owned you both body and soul, just as you owned him.
“That’s right, baby.” Matthew's thrusts were deep and sure, as he knew what would bring you pleasure, and with a few more flexes of his hips, he sent you spiraling out of control, screaming his name.
“MMMAAATTTTTTTTTTHHHHEEEEEWWW.”
That was all he needed to catch his high and follow you down, your name on his lips. He rolled onto his side taking you with him; your breaths mingling together as you both calmed. Your nails skimmed down his spine aimless, something you tended to do after sex. Matthew always said he loved the continued intimacy it brought, and tonight it felt like you both needed that. His lips found yours, the kiss loving and tender. “I love you, (Y/N),” Matthew whispered while brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “And I promise, I won’t let Auston get to me next time.”
“Good, because you’re the only man I love Matthew, and the team doesn’t need you getting ejected from games because of me.”
“It won’t happen again.” You truly hoped that it wouldn’t but with Matthew’s temper you never knew.
It was a little over two weeks later that the Flames were taking on the Leafs, this time at the Saddledome, where you were in attendance. Admittedly, you were a bit nervous on the inside as to what would happen between the love of your life and the once lowlife that you'd briefly called boyfriend. You tried to shake off your nerves with idle chatter with some of the girls, but your eyes always seemed to drift back to where Matthew and Auston were on the ice.
Matthew for his part stayed away from center ice for warmups, just like he told you he would. It wasn’t until the second period after a blown whistle that Auston finally decided to poke at him. “How’s that girlfriend Tkachuk? You know if I told her I wanted her back she’d leave you in a second.”
“I doubt that Matthews. She told me you couldn't satisfy her in the bedroom. Something about cumming too soon.” Anger started to radiate across Auston’s face. “You should see a doctor about that.” Matthew skated away, completely ignoring anything Auston would be able to say back.
The game was tied late in the third once again when Auston tried to rile Matthew up again. Considering he had two assists you understood why they wanted your boyfriend out of the game. “It wasn’t me who had the problem Tkachuk, (Y/N)’s pussy was wider than the Grand Canyon.”
“Hmm,” Matthew taunted back. “Must be your small pencil dick, because she’s so tight it’s like a vice-grip around me.” Auston took offense and cross-checked Matthew into the boards right as the play began, earning him two minutes in the penalty box. Matthew laughed at him as the ref took him over. Auston wasn’t there for long, as Matthew scored the game-winning goal forty-some seconds into the penalty. You jumped up out of your seat with the rest of the girls cheering and screaming.
Even though they pulled the goalie, the Leafs couldn’t seem to find the back of the net before the buzzer sounded ending the game. You made your way down to wait outside the tunnel with the rest of the significant others. Most everyone was gone before Matthew finally came out, scooping you up in his arms. “Did you see that baby?”
“I saw Matty,” you told him, kissing him on the lips. “That goal was impressive.”
He finally set you back down on your feet. “No babe, that’s not what I meant. I didn’t let him get to me.”
“Yeah, I saw that too. I’m so proud of you.”
“Well, he can’t get under my skin about you, when I get to be all over yours.” His hands slid under your sweater and inside your jeans to cup your ass. “Speaking of your skin…let’s go home so I can get you out of all these clothes and see you.”
You kissed him, long and languidly, before pulling back. “I like that idea. I like it a lot.” The two of you left the arena hands interlaced just as your bodies would be as soon as you got home.
.
#Matthew Tkachuk#Matthew tkachuk imagine#matthew tkachuk imagines#matthew tkachuk smut#matthew tkachuk fanfic#nhl smut#nhl imagine#nhl imagines#hockey smut#hockey imagine#hockey imagines#hockey fanfic#nhl fanfic#nhl fanfiction
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Allies, Pt. 2
Jet
Pairing: Sokka x F Reader
Warnings: Injury
Word Count: 5,386
Summary: In your travels with Team Avatar you meet Jet. You do not like Jet.
-Navigation- | -Allies Masterlist- | -Atla Masterlist-
After a while of travelling, Y/n, Aang, Katara and Sokka found themselves resting in a clearing, alongside Appa. Y/n sat on the ground, leaning against one of Appa’s legs. While the others gave a short explanation as to why they wanted her to join their group, she still didn’t completely understand. It felt like there was something else that none of them wanted to bring up. But what other reason could there be exactly? It made perfect sense they’d want her survival knowledge if they were travelling the world and having to be outside a lot, there shouldn’t be a different reason.
It wasn’t often her instincts were wrong, but it didn’t make sense for them to be right on this.
Aang stood up from where he sat, looking around. “Where’s Momo?”
A yowl from the lemur echoed through the forest.
They all started to look around, trying to tell where it came from.
“That way.” She pointed to the trees in front of her. “I think.”
Nodding, Aang ran off in the direction, Katara, Sokka and Y/n close behind. It didn’t take long for them to get to another clearing, Momo had been caught in a snare.
“Hang on Momo!”
Aang used his airbending to leap between the trees, and reach up to where Momo was trapped. After a few short moments, Aang, Katara and Sokka had gotten Momo down and out of the snare. The animal was quick to go at a handful of nuts on the ground, seeming to forget that he’d just gotten trapped, from what she could guess was something similar. Groaning, Sokka hit a hand to his forehead.
Breathing out a quiet laugh, Y/n reached down and snagged the nuts from the ground. Momo jumped up onto her shoulder and took them from her palm to eat. She patted the lemurs head, watching as the other three freed some Hog Monkey’s from another snare. “Let’s be a little more careful, alright Momo?” He chittered quickly, before going back to his nuts.
Sokka approached one of the traps, and kneeled down to examine it. “These are Fire Nation traps- you can tell from the metalwork. We’d better pack up camp, and get moving.”
They went back to their little camp, and started to pack their things up on Appa.
“Ah-ah… no flying this time.”
“What?”
The three paused, looking at Sokka with question.
“Why wouldn’t we fly?”
“Think about it. Somehow Prince Zuko and the Fire Nation keep finding us. It’s because they spot Appa- he’s just too noticeable.”
Katara was about to say something, but Y/n stopped her before she could.
“Woah woah woah. Wait. You guys are being chased by Prince Zuko and the Fire Nation?”
Aang, Katara and Sokka looked between each other. Katara glared at her brother. “Did you not tell her?”
“I thought Aang was going to tell her!”
“Wait, Katara I thought you were going to tell her.”
Sighing, she rested her forehead in her hands. “That would have been nice to know before I agreed to help… Okay it’s fine. I’ve had run-ins with the Fire Nation before, this is fine. I think Sokka is right, if you’re running from the Fire Nation, it’ll be pretty easy to be found when you’re riding Appa. He is pretty noticeable.”
“He’s not that noticeable!”
“Thank you Y/n- Yes he is! He’s a gigantic fluffy monster with an arrow on his head- it’s kinda hard to miss him!”
Appa turned his head to look at Sokka, and groaned at him. From where he sat, Aang patted his head.
“Sokka’s just jealous ‘cause he doesn’t have an arrow.”
“Listen, I know you two want to fly, but my instincts tell me we should play it safe this time and walk.”
Katara crossed her arms over her chest. “Who made you the boss?”
Sokka raised an eyebrow at her. “I’m not the boss- I’m the leader.”
“You’re the leader? But your voice still cracks!”
“I’m the oldest and I’m a warrior.” Pausing, he tried to speak in a deeper tone. “So… I’m the leader.”
Y/n scoffed. “What kind of warrior gets scared by an arrow?”
“A warrior that doesn’t want to die?!”
“I thought warriors weren’t supposed to fear death?”
“You know what-”
Getting between the two, Katara shot glances to both of them. “If anyone’s the leader, it’s Aang. I mean, he is the Avatar.”
“Are you kidding- He’s just a goofy kid!”
The three looked over to Aang, who was dangling upside down from Appa’s horn. The bison looked unimpressed. “He’s right.”
Groaning, Katara rolled her eyes. “Why do boys always think someone has to be the leader? I bet you wouldn’t be so bossy if you kissed a girl.”
The girl's comment caused Y/n to break into laughter, receiving a glare from Sokka.
“I-I’ve kissed a girl- you...you just haven’t met her.”
“That sounds like something a person who’s never kissed a girl would say.”
“You stay out of this! I bet you’ve never even kissed a boy before!”
She looked at him with a blank expression. “I’ve lived in the forest by myself since I was ten, I have an excuse.”
“Sounds like a poor excuse to me-”
Once again Katara had to reinsert herself into the conversation. “Who Sokka? Gran-gran? I’ve met Gran-gran?”
“No- Besides Gran-gran! Look, my instincts tell me we have a better chance of slipping through on foot and a leader has to trust his instincts.”
“Okay, we’ll try it your way Oh Wise Leader.”
Aang stepped over to the group, wearing a backpack. Momo sat on top of it. “Who knows- walking might be fun.”
The group trudged through the forest. Sokka was in the lead, Y/n not too far behind him. Aang and Momo, then Katara and Appa followed behind them.
“Walking stinks! How do people go anywhere without a flying bison?”
“Usually by walking…” Her comment was ignored.
“I don't know Aang. Why don’t you ask Sokka’s instincts- They seem to know everything.”
“Haha. Very funny.”
“It was kind of funny-”
“I thought you were on my side?!”
“Hey! I just agreed that Appa was noticeable, I never agreed to force everyone to walk when they didn’t want to. Anyways, my instincts say that your instincts are wrong. This was a terrible idea.”
“Oh yeah because I’m sure your instincts know what they’re talking about.”
“You know, they’ve never been wrong actually so-”
Aang groaned. “I’m tired of carrying this pack.”
“You know who you should ask to carry it for a while? Sokka’s Instincts!”
“That’s a great idea Katara! Hey, Sokka’s Instincts, would you mind-”
“Okay okay! I get it. Look guys, I’m tired too. But the important thing it that-” He pushed a branch to the side, looking back at Aang and Katara. “-we’re safe from the-”
“Fire Nation..”
“Yes! Thank you, Y/n.”
“No, Sokka. Look.”
Sokka turned to look back in front of him, expression dropping at the Fire Nation camp that sat in the clearing in front of them. Most of the soldiers were seated on logs at the opposite side of the camp, bowls in hand.
“RUN!”
The soldiers leaped up from the logs from Sokka’s exclamation, swords in hand. One of the soldiers launches a fire at them, it misses them, but sets the bushes behind them on fire.
“We’re cut off!”
“Sokka, your shirt!”
Looking at his shirt, Sokka yells in panic at seeing that it got caught on fire. While Katara used her bending to put out the fire, Y/n got her bow ready. The four stood with their backs together once they had been surrounded by fire and soldiers.
“If you let us pass, we promise not to hurt you.”
Katara whispered to her brother quietly. “What are you doing?”
“Bluffing?”
The one eyed caption smirked. “You? Promise not to hurt us?”
Y/n aimed an arrow at his good eye. “Yeah. I suggest if you want to keep that eye you call off your men.”
This time it was Sokka who whispered. “What are you doing?!”
“Not bluffing.”
A quiet zip then a thud sounded. A surprised expression took over the captains face for a moment, before he groaned and doubled over. His men lowered their swords some.
Aang glanced at Sokka. “Nice work, Sokka! How’d you do that?”
“Uh… instinct?”
“Look!”
Katara pointed up above them. A figure stood on the massive branch of a nearby tree. The person dropped something, and drew two blades from the middle of their back. They stepped back off the branch, but instead of falling, they used the blades to catch onto the branch, allowing the person to sling themself in the direction of the camp. Thet kicking over two of the soldiers furthest from the group, landing with a foot on each of their backs.
Now that the person was closer, Y/n could tell they were a young man, who looked to be around her and Sokka’s age.
The boy rushed forward, sword in each hand, hooking the ends of the curved blade on two soldiers' legs making them fall backwards. “Down you go.”
Y/n was about to run into the fight, but was stopped by Katara grabbing onto her arm. Lowering her bow, she shot a glare at the girl, but stayed. Katara looked pleased at the help, Aang was in awe, while both Sokka and Y/n weren’t very happy about it.
The boy had fought off two more of the soldiers, one of the soldiers who’d managed to land on his feet looked up. “They’re in the trees!”
A small boy dropped down from above, and landing on the soldiers shoulder he spun his helmet around blinding him. He staggered, while the boy on his shoulder laughed. Before the last three soldiers could react, several arrows shot down at them, disarming each of the soldiers without hurting them.
After a few minutes, the group joined the battle.
“Finally..” Y/n mumbled, running at one of the soldiers. He swung his sword at her, but she was quick to duck out of the way, and swipe her leg under his feet knocking him down. She kicked the sword out of his hand, and used it to block an attack from a soldier who approached her from the side. Before she could get an attack on him, the boy from before ran by, knocking him down with his curved sword.
She glared at the boy. “I had him.”
“My bad.” He shrugged with a smirk before rushing back off into the battle.
A grump Sokka walked over, leaning an arm on Y/n’s shoulder. “He did it to you too?”
“Yeah.”
After a bit more fighting, and a bit more aggravation on Sokka and Y/n’s end, they gathered back together. Aang looked at the boy in awe. “You just took out a whole army almost single-handed!”
Sokka scoffed. “Army? Pfft. There were only, like, twenty guys.”
Next to him, Y/n crossed her arms over her chest. “I could have done that…”
The boy seemed to ignore them. “My name is Jet, and these are my Freedom Fighters. Sneers, Longshot, Smellerbee, The Duke, and Pipsqueak.”
Aang approached The Duke and Pipsqueak. “Pipsqueak- that’s a funny name.”
The larger of the two bent down to Aang’s level. “You think my name is funny?”
Despite being nervous, Aang plastered a smile on his face. “It’s hilarious.”
After a short moment, the three of them ended up in laughter.
The Freedom Fighters had started to raid the camp. Jet leaned up against a trunk, Katara approached him. Y/n was sitting on the ground, close enough to hear their conversation.
“Um… thanks for saving us Jet. We were lucky you were there.”
Y/n rolled her eyes. Again, she could have taken care of those guys. Wouldn’t be the first time after all.
“I should be thanking you. We were waiting to ambush those soldiers all morning- we just needed the right distraction. And then you guys stumbled in.”
“We were relying on instincts.”
“You’ll get yourself killed doing that.”
Y/n scoffed, causing the two of them to turn to her. She pushed herself off the ground.
“Following wrong instincts will get you killed. Not the right ones.”
Katara gave her a look, but didn’t say anything as she walked away. Sulking, she moved to sit next to Sokka. He leaned close to her ear.
“Please tell me you don’t like these guys either.”
“Not one bit.”
“Glad to know I’m not the only one…”
They’d ended up following Jet to the Freedom Fighters hideout. After a little while he stopped.
“We’re here.”
“Where… there’s nothing here!”
Jet held out a rope with a loop at the end to Sokka. “Hold this.”
“Why… What's this do?”
The loop was put around his wrist, without warning he got pulled up by his arm. “Woah!” It didn’t take long for him to disappear among the branches above.
Jet offered a similar rope to Aang and Momo. “Aang?”
“I’ll get up on my own.”
Momo launched himself from Aang’s shoulder, the boy following with an airbending move. Jet then offered the rope to Y/n with a smile.
“Here, Y/n.”
She snatched the rope from him with a glare, using one hand to hold onto the loop she used the other to keep a good grip on her bow. Not too long after she got up to the tree house, Jet and Katara appeared. It did not take an expert to realize Katara was having a teen girl crush on this kid. Yikes.
Taking a look around she had to admit, it was a nice treehouse. The craftsmen ship on it was amazing.
Aang and Momo fly over to the landing area. “Nice place you got!”
Looking around, Katara nodded in agreement. “It’s beautiful up here!”
“It’s beautiful… and more importantly the Fire Nation can’t find us.”
Smellerbee landed near them. “They would love to find you. Wouldn’t they Jet?”
“It’s not gonna happen, Smellerbee.”
The group walked along a bridge, sans Aang and Momo, who were zip lining around the tree house. Katara looked at Jet with raised eyebrows.
“Why does the fire nation want to find you?”
“I guess you could say I’ve been causing them a little trouble. See, they took over a nearby Earth Kingdom town a few years back.”
Jet and Katara had been leading the group, Pipsqueak behind them. “We’ve been ambushin’ their troops, cutting off their supply lines, and doing anything we can to mess with ‘em.”
Behind Pipsqueak, Sokka tried to see over the large boy, hopping to get a peek over his shoulders. He wasn’t doing very well. Y/n didn’t have as much interest in trying to see past him as Sokka did. Jet started to talk again.
“One day, we’ll drive the Fire Nation out of here for good and free that town.”
“That’s so brave.”
Grabbing onto Y/n’s wrist to pull her with him, Sokka managed to push past Pipsqueak and get behind Jet and his sister. “Yeah, nothing braver than a guy in a treehouse.” Y/n laughed at Sokka’s sarcasm.
“Don’t pay any attention to my brother or Y/n.”
“No problem. They probably had a rough day.”
“So, you all live up here?”
Sokka sulked and slinked back at being ignored, Y/n resting a comforting hand on his shoulder.
“That’s right. Longshot over there? His town got burned down by the Fire Nation. And we found The Duke trying to steal our food. I don’t think he ever really had a home.”
“What about you?”
Jet stopped, and aside from Katara the rest of the group moved on.
Later that day, they all gathered at a banquet table. While everyone ate, Jet stood up and climbed up onto the table.
“Today, we struck another blow against Fire Nation swine.”
The fellow Freedom Fighters cheered, Aang and Katara watched with smiles, Sokka and Y/n watched grumpily.
“I got a special joy from the look on one soldier’s face, when The Duke dropped down on his helmet and rode him like a wild hog monkey.”
A helmet-less Duke stood up and joined Jet on the table. Amid the cheers, he took a victory walk around a fish platter.
“Now, the Fire Nation thinks they don’t have to worry about a couple kids hiding in the trees.” He paused, taking a drink from his wooden cup. “Maybe they’re right.”
The Freedom Fighters booed.
“Or maybe… they are dead wrong.”
This time they cheered.
Jet hopped off the table, and took a seat on the platform between Katara and Sokka. Katara turned to look at him.
“Hey Jet, nice speech.”
“Thanks. By the way, I was really impressed with you and Aang. That was some great bending I saw out there today.” He paused, turning to look past Sokka, and at Y/n who sat on the other side of him. “And your fighting was really good too, Y/n. You definitely have a good mark of intimidation on you.”
She didn’t say anything in response.
“Well, they’re great. Y/n is a great survivalist and Aang’s the Avatar. I could use some more training.” Katara blushed softly, when Jet turned his attention back to her and Aang. “Avatar huh? Very nice.”
“Thanks Jet.”
“So I might know a way that you and Aang could help in our struggle.”
Sokka stood up from his spot. “Unfortunately we have to leave tonight.”
“I have to agree.” Y/n said, standing up herself.
“Sokka, Y/n, you’re kidding me! I need you two on an important mission tomorrow.”
Stopping, Sokka turned around to look at Jet. “What mission?”
“Seriously Sokka…?” Y/n face palmed.
Somehow, Y/n had been convinced to come along with Sokka and Jet. She really didn’t like it, but would rather not leave Sokka alone with that guy. Something about him rubs her the wrong way. The three of them were perched up high in the trees. Jet cupped his hands together and made a bird call whistle. Several trees down Pipsqueak and Smellerbee step into view from their branches. There is a reply call back.
Sokka rammed his jawbone knife into the trunk of the tree, gaining a skeptical look from Jet.
“What are you doing?”
“Shh… it amplifies vibrations.”
He looked impressed. “Good trick.”
Cupping his hand around the pommel bone, Sokka put his ear to it. “Nothing yet.” He lowered his voice. “Wait! Yes, someone’s approaching.”
At his words, Y/n prepared her bow.
“How many?”
“I think there’s just one.”
Jet whistled. “Good work, Sokka. Ready your weapon.” He looked at Y/n with a smile. “You get prepared fast, huh?”
She simply offered a nod to him.
“Wait! False alarm… he’s just an old man.”
Despite Sokka’s words, Jet still stood. Extending his hook swords, he leaped down to the ground. As she lowered her bow, the two watched in horror.
“What are you doing in our woods, you leech.”
“Please sir, I’m just a traveler.”
Jet stepped closer to the old man, swiping his sword at his cane. It flew to the side, as the old man backed away. He tried to flee, but ran face first into Pipsqueak’s chest, the force of the impact knocking him to the ground.
“Do you like destroying towns? Do you like destroying families? Do you?!”
The poor man looked horrified. “Oh… please.. Let me go… Have mercy..”
“Does the Fire Nation let people go?! Does the Fire Nation have mercy?!”
Jet got ready to kick the man, but Sokka snagged his foot with his club to stop him. Y/n jumped down from the tree, landing in between Jet and the old man.
“Jet, he’s just an old man!”
“He’s Fire Nation! Search him!”
Pipsqueak grabs onto the man and holds him up, Smellerbee steps up.
“But he’s not hurting anyone!”
“Have you forgotten that the Fire Nation killed your mother? Remember why you fight?”
“The Fire Nation killed my parents too, Jet! That doesn’t mean you get to go around harassing everyone who’s from there! This man has travelled through my forest before, he’s not a danger to anyone! You aren’t supposed to fight to hurt others, but to protect those you care about! This is pointless. ”
“This is protecting the people we care about!”
“We’ve got his stuff Jet.” Smellerbee holds up the satchel the old man had.
“This doesn’t feel right.”
“It’s not right.”
“It’s what has to be done, now let’s get outta here.”
Jet pushed past Sokka, as Smellerbee and Pipsqueak pushed past Y/n. The two looked at each other, before looking at the old man.
“Come on you two!”
Y/n ignored Jet, as she helped the man up, giving him his cane. Sokka waited for her to be finished, before they ran back to the others.
Aang leaped off the zip lines and onto the platform. “Sokka! Y/n! Look what The Duke gave me!”
He wore a satchel, and pulling a small pellet from it he tossed it at the platform next to Momo. It exploded with a pop, Momo puffed up like a startled cat. He growled, before lunging for the satchel. Momo crawled up onto Aang’s shoulder, and tossed pellets at his feet.
“Ow! Quit it!”
Sokka sat oblivious to his friend, sitting with his back to one of the tree trunks, he looked up at the platform above him. Y/n sat next to him, her head resting on her knees. Katara approached the two.
“Hey Sokka. Is Jet back?”
“Yeah- he’s back. But we’re leaving.”
Aang looked at him with confusion. “What?”
“But I made him this hat.” Katara pulled a cap made of stitched leaves and flowers from behind her back.
Y/n lifted her head to look at them. “Jet’s a thug.”
“What? No, he’s not.”
“Your boyfriend is messed up Katara.”
“He’s not messed up, he’s just got a different way of life- A really fun way of life.”
“He beat and robbed a harmless old man!”
“I wanna hear Jet’s side of the story.”
“Sokka, Y/n- You told them what happened but you didn’t mention that the guy was Fire Nation?”
The four of them and Jet were in a lantern-lit hut. Jet was sitting on a hammock bed, the others standing. Sokka and Y/n stood as far away as they could. Aang had donned the hat Katara wore.
“No, they conveniently left that part out.”
“Fine! But even if he was Fire Nation, he was a harmless civilian.”
“He was an assassin, Sokka.”
Jet pulled out a knife and thrust it into a nearby block of wood. The blade was curved, and four spikes evenly spaced along the grip with enough space for singers to go between them. There was a ring on the butt of the knife.
“See? There’s a compartment for poison in the knife.” He pulled on the ring, and removed a small glass tube filled with red liquid. “He was sent to eliminate me- you two helped save my life.”
“I knew there was an explanation.”
“I didn’t see any knife!”
“That’s because he was concealing it.”
“See, Sokka? I’m sure you just didn’t notice the knife.”
Arms crossed over her chest, Y/n glared at Jet.
“Sokka didn’t notice it, because it wasn’t there. He’s lying!”
“Yeah, there was no knife! I’m going back to the hut and packing my things.”
Turning around, Sokka left the hut. Y/n was close behind him.
When Aang and Katara entered the hut they had been staying in, Sokka and Y/n were both getting their things together.
“We can’t leave now with the Fire Nation about to burn down a forest!”
“I’m sorry Katara. Jet’s very smooth, but we can’t trust him.”
“Sokka’s right, there’s something seriously wrong with that guy.”
“You know what I think? You two are just jealous that he’s a better warrior-” Katara paused, looking at Sokka. “And you’re jealous he’s a better leader!”
“Katara, I’m not jealous of Jet. It’s just that my instinct-”
“Well my instincts tell me we need to stay here a little longer and help Jet.”
“That’s great Katara! But my instincts agree with Sokka’s, and they’ve never been wrong before.”
“Come on, Aang.” Katara left the hut.
Aang looked between the two. “Sorry Sokka, Y/n.” He followed her out.
That night inside the group's hut, Katara and Aang slept on their bedrolls, while Sokka slept propped up against his still packed stuff. Y/n found herself awake.
“Let’s go.”
She reached over, and shook Sokka awake. He stirred awake, looking at her confused. “Wh-”
She brought a finger to her lips to shush him, and nodded outside. On the ground below them, the Freedom Fighters were quietly pushing a loaded wagon as Jet led them out of the camp. Sokka and Y/n stealthily followed them.
They emerged from the forest, onto a bare cliff that stood above a dam. Jet goes to the edge of the cliff and looks down at the dam, before turning back to the wagon.
“Now listen, you are not to blow the dam until I give the signal. If the reservoir isn’t full, the Fire Nation troops could survive.”
The Duke jumps off the wagon. “But what about the people in the town, won’t they get wiped out too?”
Jet placed a hand on his shoulder. “Look Duke, that’s the price of ridding this area of the Fire Nation.” He turned to Longshot. “Now, don’t blow the dam until I give the signal- got it?”
Longshot nodded.
Sokka and Y/n watched them incredulously from the bushes. Rustling could be heard. Before they could react, Pipsqueak grabbed them by their hair, dragging them out from the bush. Smellerbee had a knife to each of their throat’s in seconds. “Where do you think you’re going?”
Jet watched as the two were dragged out. Pipsqueak kept his grip on their hair.
“Sokka, Y/n. I’m glad you decided to join us.”
The two were pushed onto their knees. Sokka rubbed his shoulder. “We heard your plan to destroy the Earth Kingdom town.”
“Our plan is to rid the valley of the Fire Nation.”
Y/n glared at him.” There are people living there, Jet. Mothers and fathers and children.”
“We can’t win without making some sacrifices.”
“An entire town isn’t some sacrifices!”
Sokka pointed an accusatory finger at Jet. “You lied to Aang and Katara about the forest fire!”
“Because they don’t understand the demands of war, not like we do.”
“I do understand. Understand that there’s nothing you won’t do to get what you want.”
“I was hoping you’d have an open mind, Sokka, but I can see you’ve made your choice.”
Jet looked at Y/n, as Pipsqueak and Smellerbee grabbed Sokka. “You understand where I’m coming from, don’t you Y/n? I mean we’re basically one in the same, parents killed by the Fire Nation, living in the forest with no one but who we run into. You get it, right?”
Gulping, she glanced between him and Sokka. “Yeah, I do get it.”
As Sokka’s expression fell, Jet offered a smile. “I get that you’re just as ruthless and horrible as the Nation you hate so much.” She was quick to flip backwards onto her hands, kicking Jet in the chin as she flipped into a landing.
Jet stumbled back, as she jumped up to grab onto a branch and pull herself into the trees. “We can't have them warning Katara and Aang! Get her!”
Longshot offered a silent nod, pulling himself up into the trees. Jet looked at Pipsqueak and Smellerbee. “Take him for a walk. A long walk.”
“You’re not gonna get away with this Jet! Y/n is going to get to Katara and Aang!”
“No, she won’t. But cheer up Sokka. We’re gonna win a great victory against the Fire Nation today.”
Y/n was quick to jump between the branches of the trees, behind her she could hear someone following. Jumping across a long gap between trees, she was barely able to grab the branch. Before she could pull herself up, an arrow zipped through the air, stabbing through her right hand and pinning it to the branch. She shouted in pain. Using her teeth, she bit down on the arrow and pulled it from the wood in the tree. She didn’t have time to try and get it out of her hand, so she opted to break off the end with her teeth so not as much was sticking out. As she was pulling herself up onto the branch, another one lodged into her ankle. Not having time to deal with this one, she just left it there for now.
Gritting her teeth, she did her best to keep jumping through the trees. With the two arrows in her it was hard to move around, and it made her slower. Longshot was catching up to her. When he jumped onto the same branch as her, Y/n jumped down to the ground, hitting it with a roll. The arrow sticking out of her leg hit the ground awkwardly, making her yelp in pain, but at least some of it broke off. She groaned in pain, but forced herself up.
“Y/n!”
Turning around, she saw Sokka running at her, Smellerbee and Pipsqueak hot on his tail. Longshot jumped down to the ground, landing right as Sokka passed him. Running past Y/n, he grabbed onto her wrist and started to drag her along with him.
The two of them jumped over a pile of leaves, while their three chasers did not. Smellerbee, Pipsqueak and Longshot all ended up getting caught in a snare, hanging several feet in the air.
The two stopped, turning to look up at the snared trio.
“While you two are up there you might want to practice your knot-work.” Sokka held up the bindings they had been using for him as he spoke. Y/n laughed quietly at his words, following him as he turned and walked away.
“You have a plan, Sokka?”
“Yeah-” His expression twisted to concern when he looked at her. She was limping a bit. Were those broken arrows sticking out of her hand and leg..? “You’re hurt.”
“I’ll be alright.”
Wordlessly, he grabbed onto her arm, and pulled it around his shoulders, wrapping his other arm around her waist to help her walk. She breathed out a quiet sigh of relief.
“Thanks.”
“No problem. C’mon we need to get to Appa. I don’t think we’ll be able to stop Jet, so we’ll just need to warn the town.”
They’d been quick to find Appa, and ride out to the town. Y/n had stayed up on Appa while Sokka warned the town. When they doubted him, the old man from before vouched that he was telling the truth. The town was completely evacuated, a few minutes before the dam was blown and water flooded it. They flew up to the cliff Aang, Katara and Jet were at.
“Sokka and Y/n didn’t make it in time.”
“All those people… Jet! You monster !”
“This was a victory, Katara. Remember that. The Fire Nation is gone and this valley will be safe.”
“It will be safe, without you.”
Their entrance really didn’t need to be so dramatic, but she was sure that Sokka would disagree if she brought it up. Katara and Aang looked at them with relief.
“Sokka! Y/n!”
“We warned the villagers of your plan, just in time.”
“What!”
“At first they didn’t believe me. The Fire Nation soldiers assumed I was a spy. But one man vouched for me- The old man you attacked. He urged them to trust me, and we got everyone out in time.”
Jet glared at them. “You fools! We could’ve freed this valley!”
Scoffing, Y/n rolled her eyes. “Who would be free? Everyone would be dead.”
“You traitors!”
“No, Jet. You became the traitor when you stopped protecting innocent people.”
Jet looked over to Katara. “Katara. Please, help me.”
“Goodbye Jet.”
After Katara and Aang climbed up onto Appa, Sokka flicked the reigns. “Yip yip.”
“We thought you guys were going to the dam. How come you went to the town instead?”
Katara leaned forward on her elbows, looking at her brother. “Let me guess- Your instincts told you.”
“Hey! Sometimes they’re right.”
“Um… Sokka? You know we’re going the wrong way right?”
Y/n let out a laugh.
“...And sometimes they’re wrong.”
#avatar the last airbender#atla#avatar the last airbender x reader#atla x reader#reader insert#sokka x reader#sokka x y/n#sokka x you#team avatar#slowburn#book one allies
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Nova’s Masterlist
So I finally compiled all of my shitty content in one place! Please let me know if any of the links aren’t working lol.
Last Updated: 05/24/2021
OUTER BANKS
JJ MAYBANK
Series:
Twin Pogues of the OBX (JJ maybank x fem!reader, John B x twin!sister!reader) - ON HIATUS
Summary: It’s basically just a jj maybank x reader + outer banks rewrite and I’m too lazy to write a summary or a blurb…
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
Part Nine
Part Ten
Blurbs/Imagines:
Teach Me
Summary: The reader has to train a new lifeguard, a certain blonde who can’t seem to stop hitting on her.
High Confessions
Summary: When you two get baked on a hammock, JJ tells you that his religion is love, and happens to admit something else you’ve been waiting to hear.
Songfics:
Easy (Camila Cabello) - JJ maybank x fem!reader
Summary: You’re a complicated girl, but JJ knows this. He loves you anyways. It takes you a while to realize that he doesn’t love you in spite of your flaws; he loves you because of them. (Angst & Fluff)
Happier (Ed Sheeran) - JJ maybank x fem!reader
Summary: JJ didn’t mean for things to end the way they did between you two. If he’s being honest, he didn’t mean for things to end at all. He can’t help the longing when he sees you’ve moved on. At the same time, he can’t deny that you look better, happier. (Angst)
MARVEL
PETER PARKER
Blurbs/Imagines:
Napping In Public Part One Part Two
Summary: Peter falls asleep on you whenever you’re in public :) (Just a lotta fluff lol)
Peter gets jealous over stark!reader’s close friendship with Harley (Angst & Fluff)
BUCKY BARNES
Blurbs/Imagines:
No Strings Attached
Summary: Bucky tells you that he can’t keep doing the no strings attached thing with you anymore.
ATLA
ZUKO
Blurbs:
Someday Soon
Summary: Timeline - The Western Air Temple. Zuko x reader. You and Zuko separated when he chose to retun to the Fire Nation in Ba Sing Se. You don’t know if you can ever forgive him. You can’t help but miss him, though, and you are faced with him far sooner than you expected when he returns, tail between his legs, to turn to the light side?
WINX
RIVUSA
Blurbs/Imagines:
Tempestuous
Summary: While Fate was an epic fail of record-breaking proportions for obvious reasons, I did like the idea of empath powers (don’t like that they just cancelled Musa’s powers from the animation tho), which is where I drew inspiration for this lil blurb. (Not really a summary but ok, Nova)
VLOG SQUAD
JEFF WITTEK
Blurbs/Imagines:
Take it Slow
Summary: Jeff and you have just started dating and you guys have it in for each other in the best way, but maybe the two of you aren’t ready to be attached at the hip yet? And maybe that’s ok?
Drunk Texts Part One Part Two
Summary (Request): Okay but if you’re still taking requests how bout one w Jeff wittek w the whole billboard thing w Todd and Natalie but instead it’s Jeff x y/n and David accidentally exposes their relationship and maybe have y/n be the drunk texted since Jeff doesn’t drink 👀 I hope that made sense lol.
Jeff is insecure about the age difference between him and the reader
Summary (Request): maybe you could do a jeff one where the reader is a little younger than jeff (legal, of course) and after one of the others says something backhanded about it, he keeps questioning it in the back of his mind and maybe gets a little distant? literally just anything though, love a good jeff fic regardless! haha
#outer banks#marvel#vlog squad#outer banks fanfiction#obx fanfiction#marvel fanfiction#vlog squad fanfiction#peter parker#jeff wittek#jeff wittek x reader#jeff x reader#jeff x you#vlog squad x you#obx x you#obx x reader#john b x sister!reader#john b x twin!sister!reader#john b x reader#jj maybank x reader#peter parker x you#tom holland x reader#peter parker x reader#peter parker oneshot#peter parker blurbs#peter parker blurb#jj maybank x you#jj x you#jj x reader#songifcs#blurbs
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【未定事件簿】 Tears of Themis: 【腾霄】 Xia Yan | Skyflying Date Translation
Translation Masterlist | Xia Yan Masterlist
Video
Translation under cut~
Part 1
Home
After finishing up with work, I returned home, collapsing onto my bed. Suddenly, my phone rang.
MC: Hello, Xia Yan?
Xia Yan: Got home yet?
MC: Just did, what’s up?
Xia Yan: Recently, there’s been an experiential culture variety show called “A Unique Challenge” – have you heard of it?
MC: I have – it’s been pretty popular recently, though I haven’t seen it yet.
MC: I heard that they’ll pick normal and famous people each week to experience cultures of different regions or types.
MC: Cheng Cheng’s idol participated once, experiencing an ancient ceremonial culture and playing some little games.
MC: Although, since when were you into variety shows?
Xia Yan: My friend was one of the picked participants, but he’s got something going on for now and doesn’t want to go there anymore, so he gave it to me…
Xia Yan: That week just happens to be a pairs’ challenge – would you be interested?
MC: What’s the theme?
Xia Yan: It’s trendy culture, and I heard that they prepared a lot of things for this topic. Want to go try?
MC: Sure, let’s go together.
In the few days after, as long as I thought about participating in a show with Xia Yan, I couldn’t help feeling somewhat nervous.
Finally, it was the day of filming.
--
Clothing Store
MC: Xia Yan, are you not done yet?
Xia Yan: Almost, almost…
MC: You’ve already been in there for ten minutes. Are the clothes hard to put on?
Xia Yan: Ugh, this headband is a little hard to handle.
MC: Then I’ll help you put it on.
Speaking thus, I got up and walked towards the fitting room.
Xia Yan: Ah, no need, no need!
Xia Yan pulled the fitting room’s curtain tightly.
Xia Yan: Uh… I feel like… this outfit doesn’t really suit me, so I should probably change!
Rustling sounds came from inside the fitting room.
MC: Let me see! If you don’t come out, I’m going to lift the curtain!
I faked an act to scare Xia Yan. Sure enough, hearing me say this, the sounds of movement from the fitting room stopped, and the curtain was slowly pulled open.
Xia Yan: Ugh…
MC: …
Back during school, Xia Yan always wore school uniforms, and the clothes he wore now were mostly casualwear. Speaking of which, this was my first time seeing him wear hip-hop style clothing. The bright symbols didn’t feel over-the-top; instead, it added a free, confident youthful vibe for him.
Xia Yan: This outfit… is it… too gaudy?
MC: …
Xia Yan: You’re not even talking… looks like it really does look bad. I should go change it.
MC: Don’t change it! It looks great, of course it looks great!
Seeing Xia Yan walk towards the fitting room, I grabbed onto him.
Xia Yan: For real?
MC: Of course – you look super cool!
Xia Yan: …
Xia Yan: Wait, why haven’t you changed yet?
Xia Yan: Do you think the clothes I picked for you look bad?
MC: How could that be? I’ll go change now, wait for me!
Xia Yan: Go ahead – after changing, we’ll officially start the challenge.
In fact, Xia Yan and I were already in the middle of filming. We were changing clothes at this store due to the show’s requirements.
--
[Flashback]
Filming Studio
Host: The theme this time is trendy culture. The topics that can be drawn are different, and the contents of the challenge are also different.
Host: Next, could the guests please come onstage to draw topics?
I followed everyone towards the stage and drew an envelope out of the box. When I flipped it, I saw a word written in large font on the envelope – skateboard.
MC: (It actually ended up being skateboarding…)
Host: Alright, could everyone now open your envelopes and read the details of the topics?
Hearing the host’s words, I rushed to open the envelope and take out the topic inside.
MC: Search for the mysterious skateboard?
MC: Looks like we have to find various components of the skateboard, then assemble them.
Xia Yan: Let me see…
Xia Yan took the mission card from the envelope, looking it over in detail. According to the instructions on the mission card, the components of the skateboard were scattered in different places on the commerce street, guarded by NPCs. Our mission was to find the NPCs, complete various tests, collect the skateboard components, and assemble them.
Host: The mission locations are at the pedestrian commerce area outside. Please finish them as soon as possible.
Host: The program team will keep track of each team’s time, and rank everyone based on completion time.
Host: If you have not completed it beyond three hours, it’s counted as a failure.
After finishing her explanation of the rules, the host gave a slight smile to everyone.
Host: Alright, after you have prepared, you can set out.
Host: Before the game starts, you can all choose a trendy culture-themed outfit at the clothes store.
[Flashback end]
--
After regaining my train of thought, I rushed to put on the clothes and pull aside the curtain, then walked in front of Xia Yan. However, as I turned in several slow circles, Xia Yan kept his eyes on his phone the whole time.
MC: Xia Yan, why do you keep staring at your phone!
MC: You’re not even giving me your opinion… does it look good or not!
Xia Yan: …
Xia Yan: It looks great, of course! You look great no matter what you wear.
MC: Really? Why do I feel like you’re… being a little perfunctory?
Xia Yan: It’s not perfunctory, they’re all my sincere thoughts!
Xia Yan rushed to shove his phone back into his pocket.
Xia Yan: I just received a message and didn’t notice, sorry.
MC: Is it an important message?
Xia Yan: It’s nothing urgent.
Xia Yan stood up, walked around me in a circle, carefully looking over the clothes I was wearing.
Xia Yan: Inspection complete. It really suits you, so let’s go with it!
Xia Yan: Looks like my eye is getting better and better.
MC: Pfft…
MC: Right, Xia Yan, I haven’t asked you yet – when did you learn to skateboard?
MC: I definitely remember that you hadn’t learned to skateboard before.
--
[Flashback]
Near the School Grounds
During middle school, Xia Yan wanted to learn to skateboard, but the school prohibited students from doing dangerous activities like this.
School Dean: Young man in front, get over here!
Xia Yan: Crap!
MC: I’ll cover for you, run!
Xia Yan planted a foot on the skateboard, kicked off the ground quickly, and disappeared past a corner within seconds.
School Dean: You-! Which class did that boy come from?
MC: I don’t know. I also just passed by, and I’d wanted to persuade him to stay away from these dangerous activities.
Xia Yan: Oww!
The sound of something falling sounded from far away, followed by Xia Yan’s pained shout.
MC: Xia Yan!
Since he left in a rush, Xia Yan, who was not yet familiar with the skateboard, fell heavily down from the stairs.
[Flashback end]
MC: After falling that time, didn’t you not ride the skateboard ever again?
MC: When did you secretly learn it again?
Xia Yan: Uh… that time was just an accident because I ran off too quickly. Afterwards, I was very careful.
MC: So you really were doing it secretly…
Xia Yan: Just a few times. I didn’t say it because I was afraid you’d worry.
MC: Really?
Xia Yan: It really was just a few times. Think about it, weren’t we together all day?
Smiling, Xia Yan changed the topic.
Xia Yan: I actually truly learned the skateboard after going to the Ministry of National Security.
Xia Yan: The teacher who took me in back then really liked skateboarding, and I learned from him.
Xia Yan: There was very little time to relax in the Ministry, but whenever there was time, I would skateboard with my teacher.
Xia Yan: When I was little, I was only concerned about looking cool and rushed too much. After learning the basics from my teacher, I wasn’t scared of getting hurt anymore.
MC: Alright alright, I won’t look into the things you’ve hidden from me.
MC: You can’t be like this in the future. You have to tell me if anything comes up!
Xia Yan: …
MC: Could it be that you’re hiding other things from me?
Part 2
MC: Could it be that you’re hiding other things from me?
Xia Yan: I’m not.
Xia Yan: Alright, it’s about time, so let’s hurry out.
Hearing Xia Yan say this, I took out the mission card given by the program team from my pocket.
MC: We have a total of four components to find – the board, bracket, bearings, and wheels respectively.
MC: Although, where should we start?
Xia Yan: There’s a clue on here, right?
Xia Yan pointed to a sentence on the mission card.
Xia Yan: “One cunning and one foolish” – this should be the clue.
MC: Does this mean we have to find two NPCs, one smart and one dumb?
Xia Yan: Shouldn’t be, I feel like this sentence seems more like a riddle.
If it’s a riddle…
>The answer is a word
>The answer is a term
MC: The answer should be a term, and “cunning” and “foolish” represent one word each.
Xia Yan: But what word does “cunning” refer to?
MC: Cunning… crafty… foolish… inflexible…
MC: I got it!
MC: Cunning refers to “skate”, and foolish refers to “inflexible”, which is “board”.
MC: When joined together, they form the term “skateboard”.
Note: 狡诈 = Cunning; 狡猾 = Crafty; these are synonyms (or near synonyms) that have the same first character; the second character of “crafty” sounds the same as and looks similar to 滑, which makes the first character of “skateboard” in Chinese.
呆 = Foolish; 呆板 = Inflexible; the term for inflexible includes the term for foolish, and the other part, 板, is the second character of “skateboard” in Chinese.
Also note that skateboard in Chinese is made of two characters, rather than one (hence why the answer is a term, not a word)
I do think that this riddle is a bit of a stretch though haha
Xia Yan: If the answer is “skateboard” … then let’s go ask at the skateboard shop.
--
Skateboard Shop
As soon as we entered the skateboard shop, Xia Yan and I saw another team of guests. They were surrounding the staff member, wanting to ask for some information.
Guest A: You really aren’t an NPC from the program team? You really don’t know what this sentence means?
Guest B: We’ve already asked all around. This is the only skateboard shop on the commerce street, so it has to be this place.
Shop Staff: My apologies, sirs, I really do not know what that sentence means. Please do not impede my work anymore.
Guest A: Alright, sorry about that.
The two gave up struggling. When they saw Xia Yan and I come in, they sighed helplessly.
Guest A: Don’t waste your energy. That person isn’t an NPC; we’ve already asked.
After speaking to us, the two left the skateboard shop dispiritedly.
MC: What do we do now? We guessed wrong…
Xia Yan: Not necessarily.
Xia Yan: She only said that she didn’t know what the sentence meant, but she never denied that she was an NPC of the program team.
Smiling, Xia Yan walked up to the staff member, took out the mission card, and pointed to the riddle on it.
Xia Yan: We already know what this sentence means. This is a riddle, and its answer is “skateboard”.
Xia Yan: This is the only skateboard shop on the street, so you should be an NPC of the program team.
Hearing Xia Yan speak, the staff member smiled slightly.
Shop Staff: Congrats on solving the riddle and successfully passing the first stage.
Shop Staff: This is the skateboard’s bracket; please hold onto it.
MC: Awesome, Xia Yan, we got it right.
Xia Yan: Then do you have the clue for the second stage here?
Shop Staff: If you want the second clue, the two of you need to do a little challenge.
Xia Yan: Sure, what challenge? Bring it on.
Seeing Xia Yan’s determined expression, the shop staff took out a little plate, grinning.
Shop Staff: It’s nothing difficult; the two of you just need to eat two spicy peppers raw to get the next clue.
Xia Yan: W-what?
Xia Yan’s smile stiffened instantly. Seeing this, the cameraman followed up quietly, pointing the camera at Xia Yan.
Xia Yan: Ah, this… uh…
The peppers were bright red, and a single glance would tell you that they were very spicy.
MC: (Even someone who can handle spice probably wouldn’t be able to endure this test.)
Xia Yan closed his eyes, held his breath, took a pepper, then stuffed it in his mouth. After chewing quickly twice, he rushed to swallow the pepper down.
A mere few seconds after, Xia Yan’s eyes widened, and he opened his mouth, inhaling deeply.
MC: Xia Yan, are you okay?
Xia Yan: Water… water! Quick, give me water!
Luckily, the program team had prepared in advance. I rushed to hand a glass of water to Xia Yan. He swallowed the water noisily, and even his eyes had reddened from the spice, tears at the corners of his eyes.
MC: (I can’t let Xia Yan suffer alone, so I’ll do it too!)
I grabbed the second pepper and stuffed it in my mouth. The agonizing taste spread in my mouth, and I speedily swallowed the pepper.
Xia Yan: Ah! Haa…. Don’t eat it! Haa…
Right after swallowing the pepper, a mere few seconds later, a burning hot spiciness rushed at me, filling my mouth with pain.
MC: So spicy! Water! Water!
MC: This is way too spicy!
Xia Yan: Haa… here, water… haa…
Unable to pay attention to how I appeared in front of the camera, I took the water and drank it down noisily.
--
After ten entire minutes, Xia Yan’s and my tongues finally recovered.
MC: So much hassle just to get this clue.
Xia Yan: Miss, you can give us the second clue now, right?
Shop Staff: Indeed I can.
The staff member took out a little paper slip and handed it to Xia Yan.
Xia Yan: “Seems to be but is not; search for the origin.”
MC: Looks like it’s a riddle again. I wonder what it means?
MC: Origin… does that mean the originating point? Could it have to do with the materials that make the skateboard?
After not hearing an answer from Xia Yan, I looked up, wondering. Xia Yan wasn’t looking at the paper slip; instead, he was staring at the product shelves, thinking about something.
MC: Xia Yan, Xia Yan?
Xia Yan: Ah, sorry, I just got distracted…
MC: Is there something you want to buy?
Xia Yan: No, I just felt like there was someone over there just now.
MC: Probably the cameraman from the program team; don’t they have to take some other shots?
Xia Yan: I feel like there’s someone who’s been watching us the whole time.
Xia Yan: Although, since we’re filming a variety show, people watching out of curiosity is also normal.
Xia Yan: Let’s go, we’ll think about this new riddle on the way.
MC: Sure.
Part 3
Commerce Street
After walking aimlessly on the road for a while, I felt faintly unsettled from seeing Xia Yan’s expression. He didn’t seem like he was thinking seriously about the answer to the riddle – instead, he kept scanning the people on the road.
MC: Xia Yan, I feel like you’ve been a bit absentminded ever since the beginning.
MC: What did you see? What’s the matter?
Xia Yan: It’s nothing…
MC: …
Xia Yan must be hiding something from me. But we had microphones on us right now and were surrounded by the program team staff, so I couldn’t just ask him.
Seeing my concern, Xia Yan gently touched the microphone, then winked.
Xia Yan: Let’s rest up ahead first.
MC: (Is he hinting that he’ll use other methods to tell me?)
We found a drinks shop by the road and scanned the menu code on our phones. Just as I was browsing the menu, contact notifications popped up.
--
[Phone Interface]
[Xia Yan]: It seems like I offended someone when investigating a case before. I received a text when trying clothes on earlier.
[Xia Yan]: The text told me to be careful, and he’d let me know how one “ends up when sticking their nose where it doesn’t belong”.
[Xia Yan]: Though I don’t know if they’re just trying to scare me or if they’re serious, it’s still better to be careful.
[MC]: Did they bring up the show filming today?
[Xia Yan]: No, though I’m a little worried.
[Xia Yan]: There are lots of people here, and I can’t tell if anyone with bad intentions might have mixed in.
[MC]: Okay, I got it.
[MC]: I’ll help you keep an eye out on the surroundings. You be careful too.
--
MC: …
So Xia Yan’s unusual expression just now was because of this. I relaxed the expression on my face, ordering a drink as if nothing were up.
MC: Let’s hurry and think about that riddle.
MC: Search for the origin… what does that refer to?
MC: Is there some special story associated with the origin of the skateboard?
Xia Yan: Hm… I’m not too clear on this either. I’ve only heard that skateboarding is an extension of surfing.
Xia Yan: Apparently, people living on the seaside were the ones to invent the first skateboard, to not be limited by geography or climate, and to enjoy the feeling of surfing.
MC: Could it have to do with surfing?
I turned on my phone and sure enough, I was able to find a surfing equipment shop.
Xia Yan: Who would’ve thought that there really would be a surfing equipment shop here…
Xia Yan: Then let’s go see.
--
Surfing Equipment Shop
Xia Yan: Surfing is the origin of skateboarding, and the surfboard and skateboard also have similar aspects.
Xia Yan: So the answer to “Seems to be but is not; search for the origin” is this place, right?
Shop Owner: I didn’t think that you two would be able to get here this quickly.
Shop Owner: You’re the first team that drew skateboarding to get here.
Shop Owner: You can get the board and sandpaper here.
The shop owner thus handed the items to us.
Shop Owner: If you’d like, you can assemble the components you’ve gotten first.
Xia Yan: It’s inconvenient carrying the sandpaper around, so let’s just assemble it here.
MC: Sure.
Xia Yan: Then can you also provide us things like screws and washers?
Shop Owner: Hahaha, of course. You two won’t need to waste energy searching for those.
After getting the materials, Xia Yan tugged me down to sit and started to assemble the skateboard.
MC: You really are familiar with this.
Xia Yan: Yeah, because I’ve always disassembled and reassembled my skateboard myself.
Xia Yan: To me, the skateboard is just like a partner.
Xia Yan stared seriously at the skateboard, twisting the wrench in his hand.
Xia Yan: Did you know – each skateboard gives everyone a different feeling, and each one is special.
Xia Yan: The tightness of the brackets, the size and hardness of the wheels, the material of the board – all of these will give a different feeling for each person.
I gazed quietly at Xia Yan. His eyes were shining, flashing with the light of excitement. Hearing him speak, it felt as if the skateboard in my hands had a life.
MC: Xia Yan, why do you like skateboarding this much?
MC: Is it because of the stimulation from fast movement?
He stopped the movements of his hands and thought for a moment. Then slowly opened his mouth.
Xia Yan: It isn’t that, or you could say that it isn’t just that.
Xia Yan: As an extreme sport, skateboarding can be mentally stimulating, but compared to my line of work, it’s not really worth mentioning.
Xia Yan: I still like skateboarding because it lets me continue to challenge myself and break past my limits.
Xia Yan: After completing a challenge, the joy of achievement is what has me most fascinated.
I had never ridden a skateboard, and I hadn’t personally experienced the emotions Xia Yan had towards skateboarding. But seeing him look like he liked it this much, my emotions felt somewhat complicated…
MC: Xia Yan, when we were little, mom and dad didn’t let you skateboard, and I didn’t support you for it…
MC: Do you blame us?
Hearing me speak, Xia Yan was somewhat surprised.
Xia Yan: Blame you? What for?
MC: Because we didn’t understand you…
Xia Yan: I don’t – I wouldn’t blame uncle and auntie, and I definitely wouldn’t blame you.
Xia Yan: Uncle and auntie wanted me to grow healthily, and you didn’t want a repeat of the past – it was all for my own good.
Xia Yan: Everyone has their own selfishness, especially towards those who are the most important to them.
Xia Yan’s voice got lower and lower, and I seemed to hear a faint whisper.
Xia Yan: I’m like that too…
Before I could ask him about it, Xia Yan’s hands stopped moving as he smiled.
Xia Yan: Alright, it’s done. Now only the wheels and bearings are left.
Xia Yan: Boss, do you have the next riddle clue?
Seeing us about to leave, the boss took out a sheet of paper and handed it to us.
Xia Yan: Let me see… A car carries seven people, and twenty-eight people return home…
Sure enough, yet another riddle.
Xia Yan: Should be a word riddle… a car with seven people on it…
MC: Ah, I get it! The answer is “wheel”.
Xia Yan: Makes sense, so the twenty-eight people refer to the four wheels?
Note: The Chinese character for wheel is 轮, which is visually made of three different characters, 车 (car), 人 (person), and 七 (seven). If there are 7 people per wheel, and 28 people total, this means there are 4 wheels.
MC: Then “return home” should refer to where the tires are…
Xia Yan: “Return home”… or we can take it to mean “the place of the very beginning”?
MC: Does it refer to that studio where we started filming the show?
Xia Yan: Possibly, but it might also be the first place where we found the clue.
MC: That skateboard shop?
Xia Yan: Yeah, it said in the mission card that the locations to finish the missions are on this commerce street, but the studio is some distance away from here.
MC: So the location should be the first store we entered after arriving on the commerce street, or the place where we found the first clue.
MC: Although the program team wouldn’t know where we’d go first, so it’s more likely to be the skateboard shop.
Xia Yan: Yep, that’s right.
MC: Then let’s go check out the skateboard shop again.
--
Skateboard Shop
We changed direction and headed back to that skateboard shop. Seeing that we had returned, the store staff was a little curious.
Shop Staff: Why did you come back? Did you leave something behind?
Xia Yan: Yeah, we left “something” behind.
Xia Yan displayed the clue in his hand, pointing to the words on it.
Xia Yan: A car carries seven people, and twenty-eight people return home. The answer to this riddle is this store, right?
Shop Staff: Correct, the answer is indeed this place.
Seeing that Xia Yan and I had already found the answer, the shop staff no longer concealed anything, taking out four wheels from the shelves.
Shop Staff: Here, take it.
MC: Awesome, Xia Yan, now all that’s left is…
MC: Ah…
Suddenly, a massive force pulled me backwards.
Xia Yan: Careful!
MC: Xia Yan?
Xia Yan’s brows drew closely together, switching positions with me in what was nearly an instant, blocking me from the front. Only then did I realize that someone was running straight towards us. He was wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses, and a single glance could tell you that he came with ill intent.
Xia Yan: Who are you?
If Xia Yan hadn’t pulled me back just now, that guy would have made it in front of me by now. When I remembered the message Xia Yan sent me earlier, my heart jumped up to my throat.
MC: (Is it someone who came to get revenge on Xia Yan?)
MC: (Xia Yan thought someone was watching us before. Could it be him? Was he following us the whole time?)
???: Ow!
Before I could react, Xia Yan swept a leg out, knocking the guy down to the ground.
???: Heeey! W-wait! You can’t just hit me!
???: This is different from what was promised!
Xia Yan: ???
Seeing that Xia Yan had stopped, the man propped himself up into a sitting position, then speedily shifted backwards. After he had escaped beyond five metres, he cleared his throat again, rambling some “fierce words”.
???: If you… got the skill, then… have a showdown with me!
Xia Yan: …
MC: …
Hearing this, Xia Yan and I had completely frozen where we were. The man sitting on the ground had also gotten up, taking advantage of this to snatch the wheels in Xia Yan’s hands.
???: I… I’m taking the wheels. If… if you want to take them back, then find me at the park!
???: Remember, it’s the park behind the commerce street!
After speaking, he sprinted out of the shop door, holding the wheels.
Part 4
If you asked me what the most awkward experience of my entire life was, I bet it would be this moment. It was obvious that the guy who’d just come was an NPC arranged by the program team, yet Xia Yan and I took him to be a dangerous hoodlum and knocked him down.
Xia Yan: So it was someone arranged by the program team…
Xia Yan: And I was just making a big deal out of nothing.
Shop Staff: Sir, isn’t your desire to protect a little too strong?
Seeing that the shop staff, who didn’t know about the whole situation, trying to hold in her laughter, I felt so awkward that my toes could pretty much dig into the ground.
MC: …
Xia Yan: I’m really sorry…
Xia Yan turned around, apologizing to the program team staff. But the director said nothing, holding up a sign in his hand, which had writing on it:
Continue!
Xia Yan: Ahem ahem… then let’s hurry and find him.
MC: Okay, let’s use our ability to get the wheels back.
--
Park
After adjusting our mentalities, Xia Yan and I arrived at the skateboard park behind the commerce street. The man we’d run into at the shop just now was holding a skateboard, waiting for us in the middle of the square. Beside his foot were several skateboards of different styles and some protective gear.
Director: This is the special guest we invited for the show. He’s a professional skateboarder and has won quite a few awards.
Xia Yan: I’m really sorry about just now…
Skateboarder Young Man: No problem, no problem… I’ve fallen a lot while skateboarding, and I’ve long gotten used to it.
After a simple greeting, the man in front of us cleared his throat, reciting the show script given to him.
Skateboarder Young Man: You two have finally arrived.
Skateboarder Young Man: If you want to get the wheels back, then bring on your true skill!
Xia Yan: Then tell us, what do we need to do for you to return the wheels to us?
Skateboarder Young Man: See this racecourse? You two have to ride to the endpoint together.
Skateboarder Young Man: No worries if you go a little slowly, but if you fall off the skateboard midway, you’ll have to start over.
MC: They… want me to skateboard?
Xia Yan: Sure, no problem.
Seeing my shocked expression, Xia Yan circled his arm around my shoulders with a smile, patting me gently.
Xia Yan: No problem, we still have two hours, which is enough for me to teach you now.
I looked at the racecourse before us. It was around two hundred metres in distance, there were obstacles on the straight path, and there were around four or five turns. The worst was a row of barricade poles near the endpoint…
MC: This is…
Skateboarder Young Man: Barricade poles. You must use a Hippy Jump to jump over them.
MC: Hippy Jump?
Xia Yan: It’s a term for a skateboarding move, meaning that you jump up from the skateboard, then fall back onto the skateboard while riding.
MC: ???
MC: I don’t even know how to skateboard, yet they also need me to… jump?
Xia Yan: It’s fine, we can definitely do this. I’ll teach you how to skateboard first.
Xia Yan borrowed two skateboards from the program team and helped me put on various sorts of protective gear.
Xia Yan: Here, put your left foot on the skateboard first, and put your center of gravity on the left foot…
I carefully followed Xia Yan’s directions, planting my foot on the skateboard.
Xia Yan: Then put your right foot on, stand stably and get a feel of it.
MC: Okay.
Seeing that my feet were placed horizontally on the skateboard, Xia Yan gently let go.
Xia Yan: Great, keep the skateboard horizontal. Don’t push down with your heel.
This was my first time standing without support on the skateboard. Though I wasn’t moving, my legs still couldn’t help trembling. The skateboard wasn’t as stable as I’d imagined – the board was prone to movement, and with my wobbliness, it also rolled from left to right.
MC: Aaah!
I didn’t know why, but Xia Yan’s miserable fall during school replayed over and over in my head, making me more and more nervous. All the muscles in my body tightened, and I tried my best to maintain balance.
Xia Yan: Don’t be nervous, relax… relax…
Xia Yan: You don’t have to tighten up this much. I won’t let you fall.
Under Xia Yan’s consolation, I heaved a deep breath, then gradually straightened my body. Sure enough, when my legs stopped trembling, so did the board.
Xia Yan: Now, let’s try moving.
Xia Yan: Put your forward foot where the truck bolt is, slowly kick at the ground, and then follow up with the back foot.
Xia Yan: You have to fix the center of gravity on the left foot. Don’t be afraid.
Xia Yan opened his hands on my sides, as if he could grab onto me, no matter what pose I fell in. With him standing beside me, I felt filled with limitless courage. Following his instructions, I lightly kicked at the ground with my right foot. The skateboard rolled forward crookedly, and I gritted my teeth, quickly moving my back foot onto the board.
MC: Ah…
I spread my hands, trying to maintain balance.
Xia Yan: Straighten your front foot. That’s right, just like that, you got it!
The skateboard rolled forward, slow as a snail – but no matter what, I had successfully overcome my mental obstacles.
For the next hour, I repeatedly practiced skateboarding, as well as learned some simple turns under Xia Yan’s instruction. With half an hour left to go before the mission ended, I decided to end training and officially take on the challenge.
Skateboarder Young Man: Ready to go? Ready, start…
I heaved a deep breath, stepped onto the skateboard, and started to move.
Xia Yan: Awesome, here I go.
Seeing me stabilize myself, Xia Yan caught up from behind. He held onto my hand, spurring me forward at a faster speed.
Xia Yan: How does it feel?
Two skateboards, one in front and one behind, moved forward at breakneck speed. I held tightly onto his hand. A slight summer breeze blew at the hairs around my ears, bringing a sliver of warmth amid the coolness.
MC: Pretty decent.
Xia Yan: Push down lightly with your toes. We’re about to get through the first turn.
MC: Okay.
The turn was right before us, and the flowerbeds on the roadside looked like they were rushing at me.
MC: (Relax, I have to trust Xia Yan… and trust myself!)
As I maintained my balance, my toes pushed down on one side of the board. The board started to turn, but the arc of movement couldn’t keep up with the curvature of the path.
MC: (I have to get past!)
I couldn’t help squinting my eyes and holding my breath. As if the skateboard had heard my prayers, it slowly changed directions, and the shrubbery in front of me also gradually got further.
MC: Xia Yan, I did it!
Xia Yan: I said so already – you can definitely do this.
My heart beat wildly, but I knew that it wasn’t because of fear – instead, it was because of excitement. Right then, I understood why Xia Yan loved skateboarding so much, refusing to give up even if he fell and got hurt. Extreme sports were not only a source of excitement and stimulation, but there was also the sense of accomplishment after conquering yourself.
MC: (We’ve gotten past four turns. Next up, there’s…)
Xia Yan: Do you trust me?
MC: ???
Xia Yan: No, I should say, do you trust in yourself to jump over the barricade poles?
Xia Yan turned around and looked at me, his eyes full of anticipation and encouragement.
Do I trust in myself? As a newbie, it was really hard for me to say. But…
MC: Xia Yan, I trust you.
Seeing my certain expression, the corners of his mouth pulled up slightly.
Xia Yan: When you hear me say “Jump” in a moment, jump upwards.
Xia Yan: Don’t jump forward or backwards, just straight upwards. Then, raise your knees high.
Xia Yan: And leave the rest to me.
As we spoke, the barricade poles got closer and closer to me.
Was jumping up from the skateboard really something I could do? Though they were only 30 centimeters high, I might fall from jumping if I’m not careful…
A thin layer of sweat formed on my hand, and I started to feel a chill at my fingertips.
Xia Yan: Right now, jump!
Xia Yan and I let go of our tightly held hands simultaneously, and I followed Xia Yan’s instructions, lifting my knees as I jumped.
The feeling of flying through the air left me without the feeling of safety, and my heart beat furiously. I shut my eyes tightly in anxiety.
Suddenly, a strong arm clasped around my waist, and an external force pulled me upwards. With a clunk, my feet fell back onto the skateboard.
MC: Ah—
Xia Yan: Don’t be afraid.
Xia Yan: You’ve already done very well. Just leave the rest to me.
Xia Yan’s gentle voice sounded by my ear. He maneuvered my skateboard with one foot, with one hand supporting my backwards-leaning waist.
MC: …
Our poses right now looked very much like embracing dancers.
I lifted my head. Xia Yan’s face was as close as could be, such that I could even feel his breath. The hairs in front of his forehead entangled, and I could smell the fragrance of his shampoo, fresh and clean.
Xia Yan: Look, we did it!
With the sound of the timer’s ring, Xia Yan and I rushed past the yellow finish line.
Part 5
Skateboarder Young Man: Wow, you two really are impressive.
MC: Ahem ahem…
Xia Yan: …
Hearing the man’s teasing, Xia Yan retracted the arm he’d encircled around me.
Xia Yan: Alright, you can return the wheels to us now.
Skateboarder Young Man: I didn’t say that there’s only one part to this challenge.
The man shrugged, looking at us like he was waiting to watch something interesting.
MC: What? But now… there’s only half an hour until the mission ends.
Set up by the program team again as we were, I couldn’t help feeling somewhat frustrated. Seeing my expression, the skateboarder man shrugged.
Skateboarder Young Man: Plus, two teams have already finished the mission.
Skateboarder Young Man: If you two don’t hurry, you won’t be able to rank.
Skateboarder Young Man: Although, it can’t be helped – sucks that you guys drew skateboarding. That’s the hardest topic, after all.
Xia Yan pinched my hand on the side, giving me a meaningful look.
Xia Yan: Then how many tasks are there after this?
Skateboarder Young Man: There are still ten moves after this. Both of you have to try five types of obstacles.
Skateboarder Young Man: But between the two of you, you only need to successfully do six of them for me to give the tires to you. It shouldn’t be a big deal with this guy’s skills.
Skateboarder Young Man: Though you won’t be able to rank, finishing the mission in time can be considered passing with minimum grades.
That was true – getting the wheels and finishing the mission within limited time wasn’t difficult.
Xia Yan: Minimum grades? Ever since I was little, I have never handed in an answer sheet that only met minimum grade.
Xia Yan: If you’re a prizewinning skateboarder, would you dare to compete with me?
Skateboarder Young Man: Compete? Why wouldn’t I dare? What do you want to compete over?
Xia Yan: With these ten movements, I can finish them faster, jump higher, and do them with better posture than you.
Skateboarder Young Man: Dude, maybe your skateboarding is impressive compared to normal people, but I’m a professional skateboarder.
Xia Yan: If you don’t try, how can you be sure that I’ll lose to you?
With an expression that could pass for a smile or a level expression, Xia Yan looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
Xia Yan: If I win, you’ll give the wheels straight to us without needing her to try.
Xia Yan: If I lose, our challenge will change from ten to twenty, and we’ll have to successfully do them all to get the tires.
Xia Yan: How about it?
The man in front of us also looked eager, but as a program guest, he couldn’t change the rules without authorization. Right then, the director following us on the side spoke.
Director: Sure, then let’s change the rules so you two can compete.
Director: This way, the show will be more interesting!
--
Thus, Xia Yan and the skateboarder started the competition. The racecourse this time was a harder one – not only were there different sorts of obstacles, but there were also half-pipes – heaven for skateboarding enthusiasts. Seeing that the two were going to compete here, the enthusiasts got out of the grounds, excitedly watching from the side.
Whoosh – Xia Yan and the skateboarder sped past me. According to the agreed-upon rules, they had to circle the track twice, during which they had to use ten different moves. The first to arrive at the end would be the winner of this race. The first circle had already finished, and their speeds were about the same, though Xia Yan was leading.
MC: Xia Yan, do your best!
Skateboarding Young Man: Hah, is that all you’ve got?
The man laughed disdainfully, springing up at a turn, jumping onto the railings with his feet planted on the board. His skateboard stayed stably on the railings, sliding down the handrails. He swayed twice, stabilized his body, and continued to speed forward after landing back on the ground.
MC: He’s already finished ten moves, and even used the moves to take a shortcut…
As expected of a competition-winning skateboarder – he could use anything on the path. Meanwhile, Xia Yan still had two moves left to go, and the distance between them was widening.
Skateboarding Young Man: Sorry, the result’s determined – you’re going to lose.
Xia Yan: That’s not for sure.
Xia Yan’s foot pushed off forcefully from the ground as he lowered his centre of gravity, seeming like he was about to make some move.
MC: Up front is…
MC: Xia Yan, careful!
There was a deep pit in the middle of the grounds. Unlike before, when he opted for stable paths, he rushed down the half-pipe. The skateboard sped downwards, then shot up along the upwards slope.
Right then, Xia Yan flew up into the air from inertia.
Xia Yan: Just watch me.
MC: …
This scene looked like a stunning artscroll, unforgettable even from a single glance. Amid the azure skies, Xia Yan looked like an eagle with wings spread, soaring into the sky. His extended arms were like wings that sought freedom, as if he would rush into the sky if given a chance. Right then, everyone and everything around me retreated from the stage. My eyes were fixed solely on him.
MC: (Xia Yan… really is amazing.)
The people all around all gasped in amazement, making the skateboarder young man look towards Xia Yan.
Skateboarder Young Man: What?! How could this be…
After the skateboard flipped several times midair, Xia Yan’s foot fell back onto the skateboard. He rushed from the other side of the pit back onto the racecourse, leaving his opponent behind.
Xia Yan: This time, it’s my turn to take a shortcut.
His soft hair fluttered in the summer breeze, a sliver of unruliness on his face, his eyes dazzling.
Xia Yan: As long as one hasn’t arrived at the end yet, there is no such thing as a so-called foregone conclusion in life.
Xia Yan winked at me, leaping down from the ladder on the side of the racecourse.
With a clunk, he dropped stably onto the ground, rushing towards the end.
Xia Yan: Sorry, I win this time.
With ten high-difficulty moves complete, Xia Yan arrived at the end first.
And so, this competition drew to an end.
--
MC: Awesome, we won!
When I saw the race end, I happily ran towards Xia Yan.
Director: Quick, follow with the camera!
Director: Did you catch that shot of him flying up from the slope? That part was absolutely magnificent!
The intense competition seemed to have left Xia Yan somewhat exhausted. He wiped his sweat, wanting to find a place to sit and rest. I got a bottle of water from a staff member, planning to hand it to him. Right then, the cameraman and several staff members walked over, getting near him.
Suddenly, a dazzling light passed before me.
MC: Huh? What’s that?
I took a careful look. One of the field staff was the source of the dazzling light, which came from the opening of his sleeve.
When I saw the thing in his sleeve, cold sweat formed on my back.
That was a knife!
MC: Xia Yan, watch out!
Part 6
When I made out the thing in that person’s hand, my heart leapt up.
MC: Xia Yan, watch out!
When that person heard me, he looked back at me, then straight-up took the small knife out of his sleeve and rushed at Xia Yan.
MC: Crap!
MC: (What do I do?)
Driven by urgency, I snatched the skateboard beside me, throwing it towards the person.
Clonk—
Field Staff: Ah!!!
Caught off-guard by the wooden skateboard striking him, the man staggered. With his sneak attack stopped by me, the man in front of me rushed at me furiously.
Xia Yan: So it was you.
With a cold, short laugh, Xia Yan rushed forward, kicking the knife out of his hand. Before the man could react, Xia Yan caught his hand, restraining him onto the ground.
Field Staff: Let me go! Why did you damn detective have to stick your nose where it doesn’t belong!
Xia Yan: Hah, paying for murder with a lifetime. I merely made your father’s crimes known to the masses.
Xia Yan: Good thing you did not hurt her – otherwise, you would regret it.
Xia Yan looked frigidly at the person on the ground, then paid no more attention to him.
Xia Yan: Call the police.
The program team staff had been shocked frozen by the scene before them, only regaining their senses when Xia Yan reminded them.
Director: Yes, call the police, quick!
The sudden interlude cut the show recording short, and the director apologized to us. Not long after, the police arrived. Xia Yan and I also went to the police station.
--
Police Station
Yan Wei: He confessed. It was indeed him that sent you the threatening messages and emails.
Yan Wei: He thought that it was all because of you that his father ended up in jail.
After Xia Yan and I finished with record-making, we happened to run into Yan Wei, who had just finished interrogation. He looked at Xia Yan, smiling helplessly.
Yan Wei: He suddenly went from an extravagant life as a young master to the son of a criminal. He couldn’t bear it and wanted to get revenge on you.
Xia Yan: I never would’ve thought that he’d be able to get into the program team.
Yan Wei: He hasn’t said how he got in – probably bribed the crew staff.
Yan Wei: Don’t worry, I’ll deal with this thoroughly. I won’t let him threaten your safety.
MC: Thank you for the trouble, Sergeant Yan.
Yan Wei: No need to be polite – it’s part of my work.
--
Park
After we left the police station, the program team director called us, saying that they’d tape the remaining portion another day. During the call, the director repeatedly apologized to us, saying that they would definitely do a strict audit of the identities of the production team members. He also promised that similar things would not happen again.
Xia Yan: I never would’ve thought that he really would blame everything on me.
MC: Ugh… since we were in the middle of filming earlier, I didn’t have time to ask you.
MC: If I didn’t notice that something was off about you, were you not planning to tell me about the situation?
Xia Yan: It’s so rare for us to get out and have fun, and I didn’t want to sweep away your excitement.
Xia Yan: Not to mention that things happened so suddenly, and I wasn’t sure if it was a prank or if someone really was targeting me.
Xia Yan: So I didn’t tell you from the start.
I knew that, when faced with difficulty or danger, Xia Yan’s initial reaction was always to bear it himself. It had always been like this, ever since we were young.
--
[Flashback]
Near the School Grounds
MC: Xia Yan, so you were here.
Xia Yan: Ah… I…
Xia Yan’s foot had just stepped onto the skateboard when he saw me come over, and he hurried to retract it.
MC: When did you buy a skateboard?
Xia Yan: I didn’t, I borrowed it from our classmates… don’t tell uncle and auntie.
MC: The older boy from the neighbors just fell and broke his bone a few days ago, yet you’re still willing to play?
Xia Yan: That’s why I don’t want you to tell uncle and auntie!
MC: Then why did you hide it from me too?
Xia Yan: I didn’t do it on purpose – I wanted to show you after I learned to do it.
Xia Yan: You were the one to say that the older boy looked cool when he was skateboarding, after all…
MC: Really? I don’t even remember that…
Xia Yan: You… ugh…
Xia Yan: Either way, I borrowed a skateboard afterwards, wanting to learn, but you guys said that skateboarding was unsafe, and I was afraid you’d worry if I mentioned it.
Xia Yan: Rather than making you worry all day, I might as well… just not tell you.
MC: …
School Dean: Young man in front, get over here!
Xia Yan: Crap!
MC: I’ll cover for you, run!
[Flashback end]
--
Maybe it was because he worried for others too much, but Xia Yan always tended to hide lots of things inside.
MC: Xia Yan, did you know – when you hide things from me, I get even more worried.
MC: When we were young and you fell while skateboarding and injured yourself, your foot had clearly swollen. Yet you bore it all yourself, saying that it was all fine.
MC: Until mom and dad finally noticed two days later and rushed to take you to the hospital.
Xia Yan: I know… back then, I thought if I just endured it, it would be fine. I didn’t think it would be that serious.
Xia Yan: I originally didn’t want to make you, uncle, and auntie worried, but I ended up causing trouble for everyone instead.
MC: After that, I always worried about if you were hiding anything else from me, bearing it all alone.
Just like today. Even though with Xia Yan’s skill, he still might not have been injured even if I didn’t notice…
But, what if?
During then, Xia Yan had just finished off an intense competition and was exhausted. What if someone was able to take advantage of this to hurt him?
When I thought this, I couldn’t help shivering, balling my hand into a fist.
MC: Fortunately, this time, you didn’t hide it from me the whole time.
MC: If I clearly could have helped you, yet I have to watch you get injured with my eyes wide open, then I will never be able to forgive myself.
I stepped forward, gently clasping onto Xia Yan’s hands. His warm hands were full of calluses, proof of what he had experienced during those eight years. In the past, I always felt that this pair of hands brought a feeling of infinite peace of mind, but now, I also felt a sliver of heartache and worry.
Xia Yan: I know.
Xia Yan held my hands back, his eyes filled with helplessness.
Xia Yan: That’s also why I told you everything in the end.
He gently twisted up my stray hairs, tucking them behind my ears.
Xia Yan: Though I hope that all I bring you is happiness and joy, rather than unease and worry.
Xia Yan: But I know that people can’t stay away from all trouble, especially in NXX, where the road ahead will be difficult to traverse.
Xia Yan: So, I’ve decided. If the road ahead is fated to be covered in thorns, then I will grow with you by your side, no matter what comes at us, traversing this bumpy road fearlessly.
MC: Xia Yan…
Xia Yan: Was what I said a little foolish…
MC: You didn’t. I’m really happy that you’re finally willing to face trouble with me.
Xia Yan: Mhmm. In the future, if I encounter any unsolvable issues, I’ll tell you, and we’ll figure it out together.
MC: Okay, it’s a promise.
Xia Yan let out a long sigh, no longer discussing those slightly depressing topics.
Xia Yan: Today’s challenge was pretty fun. My only regret was how they had to stop filming midway, so we couldn’t rank or get prizes.
MC: It’s fine – plus, I feel like the challenge wasn’t a failure.
MC: It’s precisely because of this ending that I feel like this was a worthwhile trip.
The summer night wind blew over the lake surface, the cool air dominating my senses.
I silently made a wish in my heart – I hoped that one day, I could become strong enough. I hoped that I could also protect Xia Yan, this eagle flying high with his wings spread, and his smile that was as warm as sunshine.
Videocall
Good morning, got any plans today?
Why am I wearing this outfit? Because you said I looked good in it, so I bought it.
I also bought the outfit that you wore during filming.
Speaking of which, after the episode was broadcast, my colleagues laughed at me for a good while, saying that I looked hilarious when I was eating the chili peppers.
They even made me into a meme sticker and sent it into the Ministry group chat… even the teacher who taught me before started using it.
Revealing my identity? No need to worry about that, I reported it to the upper ranks before we went. And it’s exactly because of this that they watched the episode…
For the past few days, I checked out the comments… a lot of people were saying that we looked like a couple, dunno if you saw that…
Your colleagues and friends also said so? Then… do you feel troubled by it…
No? That’s good then. I actually feel like those shots were really well taken, and I rewatched it several times.
It really is great that we can use this sort of method to save good memories.
Right, the weather today’s pretty good, so do you wanna go out and skateboard? I can teach you to do some other things.
No protective gear? You don’t have to worry – I’ve got it all, gear and skateboards.
It might be a bit uncomfortable to wear the gear. If you haven’t gotten used to it, you don’t have to wear it. Either way, I’ll protect you.
With me here, I won’t let you fall, so just relax and leave yourself to me!
Then I’ll head for your house now, and I’ll also bring the clothes. See you soon.
#Tears of Themis#tears of themis translations#xia yan#luke pearce#mihoyo#未定事件簿#tot translation#weiding shijian bu#i am here for raven appearing#and the idea of xia yan's colleagues making him into a meme#oh and the pepper thing#hahaha#ok i'm gonna wither away until we get new xy content see yallll
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Baby, It’s Cold Outside
Word Count: 3,797
Warnings: None
Summary: Old habits die hard. Crowley and Aziraphale’s habits are very, very old. Building their own side is difficult when 6000 years of instincts won’t shut up.
(Originally very loosely-based on the song "Baby, It's Cold Outside" but then it kind of did its own thing, haha. I was originally going to post this for Advent Omens but uhhh you can see that didn’t quite happen. Written as ace but you can read it however you want, really. Guess what fools, it’s Soft Boi hours again!)
(Now on AO3!)
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The snow had started early in the day. When Aziraphale arrived at the Mayfair flat it was just a dusting. But the flurry had become a proper snowfall, and then quickly decided 'go big or go home' and transitioned into a flat-out storm.
This didn't phase the two immortals in the slightest, of course. If anything, the swirling flakes outside made it feel even cozier inside. Crowley's sleek, minimalist flat had grown a fireplace for the occasion, and a very surprised new chimney on the roof of the building found itself venting smoke that somehow managed to bypass three floors.
They sat together on the plush sofa (obtained at Aziraphale's insistence several months prior, on the grounds that he wasn't going to continue coming over if there was nowhere comfortable to sit, and Crowley couldn't have that) and drank wine and talked and laughed and reveled in the feeling of being cozy and warm on a cold, blustery day.
Time had traveled on in the usual manner since Armageddon failed to happen. The two of them were unwinding slowly. Thousands of years of looking over shoulders did not evaporate in an evening, benevolent Antichrist or no, and 'our side' was a concept they were still carefully exploring. But what a glorious exploration it was.
There was no limit to the amount of time they could spend together. It was a dizzying concept that they were both adjusting to, but one that carried a thrill through it all the same. Crowley had been sorely tempted to buy tickets to every concert, play, and musical revue London had to offer and do nothing but attend shows for the foreseeable future, the two of them together. In public. He very well might have done too, if Aziraphale hadn't talked him down amid giddy chuckles. "We have time," Aziraphale had reminded him, and Crowley was ecstatic to realize that it was true.
He had relented to two a week.
It was elating. They stood closer together, they sat beside each other on public transportation rather than one behind the other, they gave each other teasing nudges with elbows.
And sometimes - when they were both at least a bottle in - one of them might even bump their hand against the other's, and fingers might intertwine, and an electric tingle would flood Crowley like a live thing, and most importantly neither would pull away for at least two solid minutes and oh wasn't that alone worth saving the world for?
Crowley spent a previously-unheard-of amount of time at the bookshop and Aziraphale's face always lit up like the sun whenever he walked in. He arrived early, stayed late, sometimes didn't bother going home at all, often showed up with wine or snacks, and they were together and it was wonderful. He had fallen asleep on the bookshop couch in the past, but these months he got the impression that Aziraphale had zoned the piece of furniture as specifically his. There was a permanent place set aside for him in Aziraphale's home, in Aziraphale's life. It made a warmth pool in his stomach to think about it despite the creeping winter chill.
Aziraphale had begun to visit Crowley's flat in return. The angel had never once set foot in the place until the night after the airfield - Crowley had never given him the address, to be fair - but now that permission had been granted Aziraphale was here increasingly often. It was so like the easy evenings at the bookshop, just with more austere surroundings. Music, alcohol, debates and memories and slightly drunken speculation. The occasional temporary twining of fingers. It was good.
It was overwhelming sometimes, this new 'good'.
Aziraphale always left the flat at the end of the evening, usually around ten. He had no reservations whatsoever about chatting until dawn in the bookshop but the flat was a new environment, Crowley supposed. Possibly something to do with propriety.
Possibly something to do with thousands of years of distance that they were both still figuring out how to cross.
But that was Aziraphale, all right: as slow and steady as a glacier when it came to his set, comfortable ways. So much had changed in the past few months and the angel had had to adapt quickly. Crowley didn't begrudge him taking a few things slow. Old habits were hard to break and their habits were very, very old.
Crowley understood well how shadows could linger even in the bright daylight. It was all well and good to say he was off Hell's payroll. It was another thing entirely when instinct crept up on him screaming that he needed to watch his back, to sit a row behind Aziraphale on the bus, to have forty excuses ready for when Dagon came auditing. It took considerable effort to override those instincts and remind himself that 'together' was okay. It was allowed. And still he'd so far only managed to turn the volume down on them, not silence them completely. He didn't know if he ever would. Crowley didn't doubt Aziraphale had similar instincts of his own. If the angel felt better setting himself a curfew, Crowley certainly wasn't going to judge.
But tonight they were here, and warm, and sheltered from the blizzard. As 'retro' had begun to slide back into style, Crowley had picked up a sleek addition to his stereo system that was at once a record turntable, radio, tape deck, and CD player, with added Bluetooth capability for good measure. Strains of Vivaldi swam through the room from a vinyl, mingling with the crackling of the fire and the clinking of wine glasses. Aziraphale was settled deeply into the sofa, his posture several steps short of perfect which was how Crowley knew he was truly relaxed. Crowley, as per usual, was draped over the couch like he'd never seen one before in his life, as though he had too many limbs and didn't know what to do with them all. It was good.
Life was good.
It was a little after ten when Aziraphale spoke up. "It's getting late." His voice was a bit distant as he looked out the window, snow glinting in the reflected light as it fell. "I suppose I ought to be going."
There was a note of regret to his voice, a lack of conviction in his eyes, that Crowley had learned to read over the long years of the Arrangement. A smile pulled at the corner of the demon's mouth, covered up easily by another sip of wine. It was a very old game they played, treading carefully along the outside edges of things that could not or should not be said aloud. Expectations, angelic ones in particular, built a lot of barriers. Aziraphale wanted something that wasn't allowed him - or wasn't supposed to be allowed him - and couldn't bring himself to reach out and grasp it. It was Crowley's job to find ways for him to justify the forbidden something to himself.
In the subtle language they shared, the angel was asking Crowley to tempt him, and how could Crowley pass up a request like that?
"Awfully cold out there," the demon drawled, gesturing languidly toward the window with his wine glass. "Snowing like nobody's business. Wind and ice and subzero chill. Terrible night to be out in."
"I'm sure it's not so bad."
"Not so bad? It's been raging for hours! Look at it! It's knee-high! You expect me to try and drive my poor car out in that mess?"
Aziraphale raised an eyebrow at the demon. "Ah yes. Imagine if humans invented other forms of transportation aside from your horrid car."
The demon's argument was all bluff and they both knew it. The Bentley could slice through the snowdrifts like a hot knife through butter if Crowley wanted it to. It wasn't the strength of the argument that mattered - it was whether or not Aziraphale could twist it to bypass the metaphorical roadblocks. Crowley rose to the challenge by sprawling back on the sofa with a smirk. "Other forms of transportation? You mean a bus, in weather like that? And good luck finding a cab out there, angel. City's practically shut down."
Aziraphale stood, giving his back a tentative stretch. "I could walk, of course. I've done it loads of times. It doesn't take much more than twenty minutes, not counting the care that has to be taken for ice."
"Walk, he says!" Crowley tossed back the remainder of his wine like a shot glass. "Think of it - the first angel in history to catch pneumonia! Bad job I'm not working for Hell anymore; they'd give me an award!"
"If doing those temptations in Qashliq for you didn't give me pneumonia, I'm quite sure nothing will."
"Are you ever going to let that go? It was over four hundred years ago!"
"It was February in Siberia, no I will not."
"Suppose you did stay a bit longer," Crowley ventured, changing tactics. It was a risk, coming at the problem from such a direct angle when they were both so used to ghosting along edges. "Bookshop wouldn't go anywhere, would it?"
Aziraphale blinked at the abrupt transition. "Well no, I shouldn't think so. It's just...I mean if I don't return home someone might notice of course and well...people will talk."
Crowley leaned forward over his knees, seriously. "Angel. When, in two hundred years in that bookshop, have you ever given a single fuck what your human neighbours think?"
Aziraphale drew himself up with a huff, and Crowley was delighted to see familiar indignation winning out over nerves. "I am an upstanding member of the community, I'll have you know. And it's not just my neighbours, of course - it's yours as well. That little old lady who lives on the floor below, for example. She always gives me that look when I pass her in the lift."
"What look?"
"You know! That look! Like she thinks she knows what's going on between the two of us."
The demon grinned like a Cheshire cat and gave a suggestive wiggle of his shoulders just for the expression it painted across the angel's face. "You're worried that my neighbours are going to think you and I took a tumble in the sheets?"
"They already suspect! Or at least she suspects." Aziraphale was trying so hard to keep a straight face, but mirth glinted behind his eyes. "Do you know what she said to me as she was getting out of the lift the other day? 'Don't forget to use protection; you don't know where he's been!'"
Crowley howled, leaning so far back in his laughter that he fell off the couch.
"I don't know what's more outlandish, the idea that we're in here having a lurid physical affair or the idea that I don't know exactly where you've been."
Crowley wiped his eyes dry and held out a hand so the angel could help pull him up from the floor. "Remind me to miracle her fridge so that all her milk keeps past its date. 'Don't know where he's been' indeed."
Aziraphale fought to get his own smile under control, for the sake of his argument if nothing else. "Yes, but it just goes to show, Crowley, people do notice. And they will talk, I'm sure of it."
"Let them," he waved it off. "I've seen tissue paper with more durability than human gossip. It'll all get forgotten in a day or two." Crowley leaned over and refilled both glasses.
"Right. I suppose it will." The angel took a tentative sip and sat back into the sofa again. "Silly thing to get worked up about, really."
On a regular night that might have been the end of it. They'd had their verbal tennis, they'd had a laugh, and Aziraphale had accepted another drink. But try as he might, the angel couldn't seem to settle. There was a stiffness, a tension to his spine that would not unwind. He fidgeted with the stemware, shooting furtive glances at the window, the fireplace, the clock.
The ceiling.
The final notes of Vivaldi faded out, leaving the room in silence, and Crowley rose to swap the record. The discomfort radiating off the angel was almost palpable and it made his own spine crawl. "Aziraphale--"
"Only, the wind really looks dreadful," Aziraphale blurted out, jolting to his feet and crossing to the window. "I really ought to go before it gets worse."
"Can't get much worse than it is, I think," Crowley countered carefully. "Best stay where it's warm."
"I don't..." Aziraphale stared out at the London skyline, nearly invisible in the storm. Pale fingers worried absently at the hem of his waistcoat. His mouth was down to a thin line and there was quite a lot behind his eyes. He looked pained. "I shouldn't impose."
"You're not imposing if I'm offering."
"It isn't...it isn't right for me to stay!"
The demon set down the vinyl he was holding, something dangerous layering his words. "Says who?"
"I've been ignoring protocol too much as it is--"
Crowley gritted his teeth, a growl rising in his throat. "There is no protocol on our side!"
"I know!" Aziraphale snapped. There was a beat of silence and the anger in the angel's face melted as suddenly as it had come, leaving his expression frustrated and upset. He scrubbed a hand across his eyes, almost apologetically. "I...I really can't...surely you understand why I can't just..." He ran a hand through his hair helplessly, eyes darting to the ceiling.
The demon set his glass down and moved over to the window.
It was a very old game they played. Crowley was good at his job and Aziraphale was good at the mental gymnastics required to fit through some of the more dubious loopholes. But every now and then they still lost.
He positioned himself in front of the principality, forcing Aziraphale to look at him.
"Angel," he said quietly, as though someone might overhear. "If you want to head home, I'll take you. You know I will. I'd just rather it be because you want to rather than because they would want you to."
Aziraphale looked truly miserable. "Crowley, you've been a marvelous host, you really have, but...I'm so sorry, I..."
Crowley stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. For just a moment the demon's face was soft, genuine. A bit sad but still impossibly fond. "Don't be." He gave the shoulder a gentle squeeze. "It's late. Get your coat, angel, it's cold out there." He doused the fireplace with a wave and stretched his back out. "Give me a moment to sober up and I'll start the car."
Aziraphale sighed, clearly frustrated at a great many things, but headed for the coat rack while the demon forced the alcohol from his system. "It ought to be fine," he muttered as the wine bottles in the corner finished refilling. "It ought to be fine. I can't explain it, I..."
"It's like someone's standing too close inside your personal space," Crowley finished for him quietly, pulling a coat of his own from the ether. "Like you're driving on the motorway and you end up in the blind spot of a lorry. There's no great outward change but all of a sudden the hairs are up on the back of your neck and your skin is crawling. And you just have this overwhelming sense of this is not a good place to be, get out."
"Yes," Aziraphale murmured unsteadily. "Yes, that's it exactly." His eyes found Crowley's, apologetic, searching.
"It is what it is, angel," he assured him softly. "We have time."
A weight seemed to lift from Aziraphale's shoulders. "I...thank you. Truly." There were things unspoken that Crowley could hear beneath that simple phrase. Thank you for understanding. Thank you for being patient with me.
Don't say that, hesitated on the tip of Crowley's tongue. Instinct was, of course, very old and very strong. He swallowed down the words and searched for new ones to replace them.
"You're welcome," he said quietly. The syllables tasted foreign in his mouth.
There was silence in the flat as he buttoned up his coat. Despite the passing months they truly had only moved the barest steps away from where they had been.
They had so very far to go yet.
But it was true. They had time.
"Right." He tried to break the mood as casually as he could, slipping dark glasses on and turning his voice into something light and easy. "Shall we be off then? After you, angel."
The lift ride down was silent, subdued. Something complicated was warring behind the blue eyes and Crowley wasn't going to even begin to touch on it until they were in the car. Aziraphale's steps faltered as he reached the glass doors of the lobby, and Crowley was halfway down the outside stairs before he realized he wasn't following.
"Oi, you coming?"
Aziraphale stared down at the space beyond the door with a peculiar expression: uncertainty and determination and anger and hurt. "I - I don't..." There was a moment of indecision, of frantic debate on his face, then he backed quickly over to the lobby bench and sat down hard.
Crowley pulled his coat tighter about himself as the wind bit through his clothes and ducked back into the building.
Aziraphale held very still, eyes closed and fingers gripping the edge of the bench.
"Angel?"
"Give me a moment. Please."
Crowley paced a cautious half-circle around him, instinctively scanning the principality for damage and the storm beyond the glass wall for threats. Another old habit - nearly useless now but one he wasn't going to be able to drop any time soon. He sat down beside the angel and the lobby was quiet for a very, very long time.
"I think," murmured Aziraphale at last, "if it's all right with you, I'd like to stay."
Crowley studied him closely. "Are you sure?"
"No." Aziraphale met his gaze. "I haven't been sure of much of anything, recently. Not since Tadfield. But I do not want to be forced back to the bookshop tonight."
"Shouldn't force yourself to stay if you're only going to be miserable."
"It's not so bad down here, that's the silly thing. But for some reason the idea of going back upstairs is just..." He laughed wryly. "What a mess I've made of the evening."
"It was a fine evening," Crowley told him earnestly.
"I thought so too, at least until the end there." He straightened, and looked a bit more like himself to Crowley's eyes. "And it's my most sincere hope that, with some more wine and another record, it might be again. Give me a few minutes. I think I can work up to it."
The demon took his glasses off and studied him closely. The determination in those eyes, the set of that jaw, were so familiar they hurt. There was a nervousness there, but there was a stubbornness as well. Like the glacier: slow, steady, but deep down so, so strong.
Crowley reached behind himself and retrieved a pair of full wine glasses that suddenly and thoughtfully decided to exist. "You know, I reckon..." he said quietly, handing one to Aziraphale, "that these will taste just as good right here as they would upstairs."
Aziraphale blinked. Glanced from his glass to the demon to the lift and back again. And his expression softened considerably.
"And if music and wine is what it takes to hang onto your company for a little longer, I s'pose that's the sacrifice I'll have to make, won't I?" He sat his phone down beside him and with a few taps Mozart began to play from its speakers.
Aziraphale stared deep into his wine glass, a smile spreading across his face that he didn't seem quite ready to share with the world yet. "A little unorthodox, isn't it?"
"And?" Crowley shrugged. "Last I checked, there's no protocol on our side."
"So there isn't. Do you know, I think I like that about it."
The demon lowered his voice. "Say the word any time, you know. We'll go, no questions asked."
"I know." Aziraphale let out a long breath and settled back onto cushions that were suddenly far more plush than anything the lobby bench had seen before. "But at the moment I'd rather be here."
The storm howled beyond the glass wall but the central heating vent behind them kept any stray chills at bay. They sat in gentle silence for a long time.
Piano Sonata No. 14 wound through the room, mingling with the warmth and the wine to kindle a sense of calm: a concoction of human magic that miracles, for all their power, could never replicate. Clever things, those humans.
Crowley traced a finger around the rim of his glass. "Can I ask what changed your mind?" he asked softly.
Aziraphale gazed off into the distance for a moment before looking back to his companion. "It was the 'you're welcome', funnily enough. You've always objected so vehemently to being thanked before."
"Yeah, well..." Crowley took another sip of his drink so as not to meet Aziraphale's eyes. "Like being in the blind spot of a lorry."
Aziraphale nodded. "It's..." He trailed off. Took a swig of wine and swallowed it down hard, as though for courage. "It's a comfort," he admitted so quietly that Crowley had to strain to hear him. "To know that it's not just me."
Crowley pursed his lips. "Not by a long shot, no" he confessed, equally quiet.
"I know accepting gratitude doesn't come easy to you. But you managed, tonight."
"It isn't a footrace, angel. I'm not asking you to keep pace with me."
"I know that. And I'm grateful. It's just... seeing you be brave makes me feel like...like I can be as well."
That smile was tugging at the edge of Crowley's mouth again. He reached out and clinked the edge of his glass with Aziraphale's. "Course you can be. Always have been."
The angel smiled back at him, warm and glowing and grateful, just the faintest hint of pink darkening his cheeks. With a daring Crowley had only seen behind the safety of closed doors and wine bottles, he placed a hand on the bench between them, palm up.
Crowley took it.
Meeting him in the middle, as always.
"Careful, angel," the demon murmured in his ear. "Remember, you don't know where I've been."
Aziraphale gave an undignified snort into his wine glass and their laughter echoed throughout the lobby.
The storm raged cold outside, but here, in their own little in-between place, they were warm.
#good omens#good omens fic#ineffable husbands#my fic#my writing#soft husbands all the time#sneaking in under the deadline like a boss#asexual ineffable husbands#Good omens heaven is full of assholes#they'll be okay they just need a little time and practice
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Capture - Grayson Dolan [10/-]
summary: memories.
warnings: fluff, angst, & a little bit of swearing
a/n: i really liked writing this part, no matter how long it took me.. haha..
tag(s): @dearestbailey !
note: for purposes of respect, his father’s name is Brutus Dolan.
"Please be careful, your friends are pretty reckless. Especially at night, Grayson." Y/N warned with a worried glint in her eyes, a sore, unwanted feeling settling in the lowest part of her stomach.
Wrapping his muscled arms around her, he reassured her with a soft hum that vibrated against her neck. "I'll make sure they're careful, sweetheart." He tightened the embrace, like he was holding on for the very last time— in which he would..
And she returned it just as taut, as though she could foresee the unforgivable future..
"Y/N?" His mellowed voice shook the air around him as he questioned her name, withholding the tears that would soon fall the moment he left her arms.
"Yes, Grayson?" She held onto his name, letting her tongue slide over it for the millionth time. It'd never get old, the way his name made her heart flutter and her head spin.
"You know that I love you.." He took a large breath in, exhaling slowly through his nose, "And I want you in my future, for the rest of my life, however long forever lasts." His cheeks warmed as his eyes filled to the brim with the pain and acknowledgement of the near future.
"Just stay with me tonight, I'm sure your friends won't mind." Y/N could feel the doubt and sadness that washed over his tanned skin, and it made her heart sink. She wasn't sure what it all was, but this goodbye felt different.
"I'm sorry, Y/N." He withdrew his firm grasp of her, settling his eyes on her own saddened ones. She suspected something, he could tell, but she would have no idea of what is to come in the later hours of this very night.
He slipped his calloused hands around her cheeks, faintly drawing patterns with his thumb as he took in her face for what could be the final glimpse. And before he could control himself, he rested his lips against hers in a rhythmic beat, holding onto the lasting feeling of her lips on his.
So surreal.
"I love you too." Her words boomed in his ears and made his heart pump ten times faster, after breaking away from each other's warmth.
Grayson let her words sink in through his ears and blend into his blood, caging her voice in his head for the rest of eternity.
He took a couple steps back, sparing one more glance before brushing his fingertips against the door handle, leaving with a quick huff and slam of the door.
If he wouldn't of left then, he would've never been able to leave ever.
Tears began to trickle down his face, staining his cheeks red as the wind whipped against his face and his choked-up sobs closed his throat.
Y/N didn't shed a tear, she had an eerie feeling, but she couldn't bare the thought of a life without him— so she didn't think of it at all.
-
"That's impossible.." Your voice gloomed as your brows furrowed into a dark mix of confusion and surprise, bringing that inordinate sense of tears filling your eyes.
You wouldn't cry, not in front of him.
You aimlessly searched the room with your wandering pupils, anything to stray away from meeting his mournful gaze. "He died ten years ago, in a crash.." Those very words made your stomach churn and uproar with anger and hurt. An unexpected sob rushed its way through your mouth and broke the barricade of tears that filled your eyes, short hiccups following in suit.
"There's a lot of explaining to do, I know, but please trust me—"
"You expect me to trust you?" Anger now rushed through your burning veins, your stained cheeks becoming a fiery red. The overflowing amount of tears that seeped from your eyes had rolled all the way down your chin and neck, the fabric of your shirt absorbing the warm liquid.
"No Y/N, I don't." He began with his jaw clenched, frustration beaming from his countenance, "But please let me explain myself, I beg you." His hand slid its way around yours, but you declined his warmth and drew your hand away.
You didn't respond right away, although the desperation had clouded your head and you took a seat. "What's his favorite color?"
"Green."
"Brothers name."
"Ethan."
"Sister's na—"
"Cam."
"Favorite food."
"Pancakes." He smiled.
"Birthday."
"December 16, 1999."
"How old are you?"
"Twenty-four."
"Fuck you." You oh-so-softly smiled, your stomach fluttering. You were convinced, surprisingly easy, but you couldn't help the familiarity of his face and body, though there were a lot of differences as well...
The two of you stood in silence for what could possibly be forever. You wiped the drying tears from your cheeks, sniffling the remnants of your emotional state away.
"Would you like to talk in the garden?" He questions, breaking the pause and raising his arm just enough for your own to hook around it, a pleading smile curving his lips.
Oh, how you wanted to giggle and wear a cheesy grin like you would've done all those years ago, but everything has changed. You've grown up, matured from teenager to adult, dealt with the side effects of losing a loved one at such a young age.
It wasn't easy after he left.
"I guess.." You answered, crossing your arms over your chest. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of your skin on his, something he's taken for granted.
Saddened, he lets his arm fall back to his side. "I forgot how stubborn you were." He chuckled, motioning you to follow as he began a walk in an uncertain direction.
"You've forgotten a lot of things.." You murmured, sighing as you begrudgingly trail after him.
It wasn't too long of a trail to get to what you assumed to be the backyard of such an estate, which of course had an utterly beautiful and blooming garden. The both of you were stood on the cement patio, halfway dry and wet from all the rain, you had noticed.
"Here." He handed you a pair of bright red rain boots, eerily the correct size. He had his own, purple rubber covering almost up to his knees as a plasticy yellow coat hung on his shoulders. It was a humorous sight, such an intimidating man looking like an eight year-old excited to play in the mud.
Child at heart, huh.
He helped you into a smaller coat like his, making it difficult to hold back an awful grin. You didn't share any words as the two of you began the path that led to the garden of sorts. There seemed to be two sides; one for vegetables and one for all the colorful flowers.
"It wasn't my choice, y'know.." He spoke aloud, walking side-by-side with you down an aisle of vibrant purple and blue tulips. You hummed in question, traveling your fingers softly over the delicate petals of a certain petunia, a rosy pink one that faded into white.
"To leave you that night, unknowingly saying goodbye for the last time. I didn't want to do it."
"Then why did you." It was more of a demand from your lips than a question.
"My father needed me." He seethed, an anger arising in his tone at the remembrance.
"I needed you." You stated under your breath, sucking in a large breath. "Who were all those men in that room the other day?" You questioned, changing the subject to ease his frustration.
"My men, and I'm sorry abo—"
"No you're not, you enjoyed that." You knew he would try to apologize for embarrassing you in front of a crowd, but does he really think you're that innocent to believe him? Not anymore, now.
He kept silent, although a small smirk crept on his lips. "Explain who your "Men" are." You had had enough of all the questions in your head, and now seems like the perfect time to discuss them, finally get some answers for once.
"They work for me and my business. It was my father's before mine and Ethan's." His low voice echoed outside, bouncing against all the trees and wildlife.
"How's Ethan?" You pondered, slightly wondering if she's seen him at all.
"He's doing fine, a ladies man from what the boys say." He chuckles, sticking his hands in his pockets. "We haven't been talking much lately, just business inquiries and such. He misses you, a lot."
"I miss him too, and Cam." You reminisce on all those old memories, smiling to yourself. "How's your mother? The last time I talked to her was graduation." You furrow your brows, sorrowful that you hadn't kept in touch with such a kind women.
"She's as good as ever, still compares everyone to you." He smiles too, showing those pearly whites that you were so used to.
"Grayson?" The mention of his name on your tongue gave him shuttering goosebumps, something he didn't think he'd ever hear again.
"Yes, Y/N." The two of you completely stopped to face each other, his brows crossed and your eyes full of question.
"Tell me what happened.. that night, when you left me.."
-
Grayson slammed his fists against the steering wheel, on the brink of screaming and cursing the world for its cruelness as tears fell rapidly. Eternal hatred filled his lungs, and the air around him poisoned all the happiness he had ever had a grasp of.
And it was his fault.
Brutus, his father, whose heart was made of stone and his mind of brick, took away the only thing that kept him sane in such a sickening world.
Y/N.
“You have no say in this, son. You knew this day would arrive, and now it has.” Brutus’s cold stare burned into Grayson’s eyes, unaffected by his own child’s mourning.
Grayson didn’t fight back, he hardly moved from his seat that was set in front of his father’s large, stained desk. His entire body hurt; first beginning from his heart, down his legs, up his neck, and finally pooling within his eyes.
“You have one final goodbye with her. Follow my instructions, Grayson, and you’ll thank yourself later on.” Brutus stood, barely acknowledging the sorrowful man hung low in his chair.
“I’ll never forgive myself.” He hoarsely whispered to himself, straining the sobs away— lost within himself.
His heart shattered as he followed through with his father’s word; a faked death alongside his brother.
to be continued...
#dolan twins#dt#dolan twins smut#grayson dolan#ily#grayson#grayson dolan fanfic#grant#ethan grant dolan#ethan dolan#graysondolan#grayson imagine#grayson dolan gifs#graysonbaileydolan#grayson blurb#grayson dolan smut#dolan smut#capture
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Bells and Whistles
Happy Holidays @ghostlyhamburger, I’m your Lovesquare Obsessed Secret Santa! I hope you enjoy this very indulgent soulmate au 💚🌸
* * * *
Music. It’s all around, and yet, it never gets old. How? How does an arrangement of notes and sounds create wonderful music capable of bringing deep joy and sadness?
Everyone knows people love music. Archeologists always seem to be finding older and simpler instruments used by early humankind. People just love to create their own sounds, if not for their own enjoyment, or perhaps to attempt to share the songs in their heads with others.
For Marinette, it was no different than everyone else. Her song. The leitmotif that seemed to always play in her head. And she could not get it to be quiet. Just once, she wished to take a school test and be able to focus on her paper, and not the wispy bells meant only for her own ears.
It was a nice melody, and the universe had made it just for her (and for her soulmate, but she wasn’t too concerned with this fact at the moment). She never grew tired of it, thank kwami, but it also meant she could never go very long without hearing it. And how the universe loved to play the tune in the least convenient times.
30 chimes of bells.
What is the circumference of a circle that has a diameter of 8 inches?
30 chimes of bells.
What’s 8 times pi?
30 damned chimes of bells.
Marinette let her head drop onto her desk, letting the lone bells play out a couple more times. She only resumed her math test once it seemed it was done.
Thus was a normal occurrence for most people. It still annoyed her.
Her teacher gave Marinette a sympathetic look as she handed in her completed test, bells still ringing in her head.
“Why don’t you just go look for your soulmate?” Alya had suggested one night as they watched a movie.
“I don’t wanna rush it.” Marinette had lied a little too easily for her liking.
“You know if you do, your tune will get beautifuller and—”
“And I’ll get to control when I hear it, yeah yeah.” Marinette tossed a few unpopped popcorn kernels at Alya, a wide smile on her face. “And beautifuller isn’t a word.”
“Whatever!” Alya had laughed then, a really joyous, belly-shaking laugh. As they continued to watch their movie, Marinette could tell Alya was playing her own symphony in her head (she always smiled like the biggest love-sick goofball).
Alya was among the lucky few who found her soulmate quite young. It always brought a smile to Marinette’s face when the young couple spoke of the day they realized. Although, Marinette always had to swallow her pride because she couldn’t let anyone know she was the one who had locked them in that fateful zoo cage.
Speaking of, Alya was leading Marinette out of the classroom, saying something about the test, but Marinette didn’t hear her. She was too busy with her own thoughts about songs and soulmates.
Surprisingly, Nino was the first to notice Marinette’s dazed state. His ‘You good?’ was accompanied with a familiar smile; the one that told her she had missed everything he had said.
Marinette blinked her thoughts away. “Yeah! Yeah, just thinking. What’s up?”
“Alya and I were saying we were gonna play UMS 3 at my house, wanna come make it a tournament?”
Marinette’s sudden perfect posture didn’t go unnoticed by either of the other teens. “Sorry, I have some family things tonight. You know how Thursdays are…”
“Right!” Alya punctuated the word with a snap. “Thursdays are family nights. Funny, Adrien said the same thing.”
Nino got an elbow to his side for snickering at Marinette’s blush, but it couldn’t be helped. They bade goodbye and went their separate ways.
The chilly December air stung her heated cheeks, eliciting a breath of thanks that she lived close to the school. In truth, Marinette’s family didn’t have family nights. Thursdays were allotted for Chat Noir’s visits.
He came every Thursday, without fail, at 9pm sharp. Why? No one had any clue. Her parents always cooked for four those nights to be sure he had food (They learned early on he didn’t get much to eat. This concerned Marinette deeply, not only as his partner but also as his soulmate). She supposed the saying was true, ‘feed a cat once and they will return’. He hadn’t stopped visiting ever since she offered him a cookie one otherwise-normal Thursday night about 4 months ago.
Tonight was no different. He knocked on her balcony window at 9 o’clock on the dot, he came down and ate his plate of food, and Marinette beat him at video games with her parents.
It was only when they had gone back up to her attic room that the night turned south.
Chat was hovering over her shoulder as she sketched a dress, excitedly giving her suggestions. Sometimes they were good, other times… not (memories of the awful purple and orange clown jumper threatened to surface).
Marinette had started to hum whilst she drew. Chat was playing with her hair and whispering encouragement, and all was well.
“Whatcha humming?” He murmured, barely audible above the sound of pencil on paper.
“Hm?” His hands had frozen in her hair, the lack of movement causing a lull in her train of thought. She blinked hard as if to will her thoughts back. “Oh, just a little tune. Should I put a flower or a bow here?”
“A bow, for sure.”
As she sketched the bow on the dress’ bodice, she hummed a little louder for Chat to hear.
And he hummed the last few notes with her.
Before she could comprehend how he knew the tune, she could hear a piano in her head, playing a sweet little harmony with jazzy drums. The familiar sound of ethereal bells played the melody she knew too well. It felt as if she were surrounded by a thousand magical whistles, carrying her up and away to the clouds. And based on the look in Chat’s eyes as he spun her chair to look at her, he was hearing it too.
Damn it.
She would have gotten emotional if she wasn’t filled with terror. Finding your soulmate was supposed to be an important event in one’s life. For Marinette, now it was another secret under her hat.
He was whispering her name, eyes sparkling and the most endearing smile on his face and why is he looking at me like that? say something, anything! to get him to stop!
“Wow it’s late, time flies, you know?” She cringed at her abnormally high voice, playing off the flinch as a yawn. “I should go to bed, haha.”
Her cheeks twitched with the effort to keep the fake smile as he just stood there, staring at her, an unreadable expression on his face.
And then she was in his arms as he carried her up to bed, eyes large and kind. He set her down gently before giving a two-finger salute and jumping through her balcony window. She felt the mattress bounce slightly from his weight. Too late, she registered his parting words to her, goodnight princess.
With a pillow secured to her face, she screamed.
“Marinette! Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Tikki. Just overwhelmed.” She threw the pillow down onto her knees.
“You don’t look fine.”
Neither did Tikki, if Marinette was being honest. She looked just as worried as she felt.
“I just… the ladybug and black cat miraculous are always soulmates, so I wanted Chat’s soulmate to be Ladybug, not Marinette. That makes sense, right?”
“Yes! And it was a great idea, but the universe has its own plans, and you can’t override them.”
“I know! It’s just that— I was planning— I didn’t want Marinette to be associated with Chat Noir. It’s too risky! What if people connect the dots? What if— oh no, Tikki! What if Plagg told Chat Noir about the soulmates? What if Chat Noir knows I’m Ladybug?!”
“Deep breaths, Marinette. It’s gonna be okay! I really don’t think Plagg would have told him, he’s really not fond of romance, he thinks it’s mushy.”
Marinette took a few moments to focus on her breathing, but Tikki’s unsure face didn’t calm her nerves any.
“I can go talk to Plagg if you want. And if Chat Noir really does know who you are, then we can work it all out! You make the rules now Marinette, you don’t have to choose a new partner unless you want to.”
The thought of her identity being known made her sick, but she tried to sleep anyway. A night of good rest would help her think more clearly, right?
She couldn’t help but let the song play out a few times more before she finally dozed off, only for it to echo in her sleep.
* * * *
If Marinette had been paying attention, she would have seen Adrien hovering nearby like the confused, enamoured puppy that he was. She would have noticed his lingering gaze, his soft smile. She would have noticed his internal debate over whether to say hello.
(Everyone else noticed; everyone except the object of his affections.)
Alas, she was too preoccupied with her increasing anxiety. She wasn’t sure when Tikki had left her purse, but she had checked ten minutes ago only to find she was missing. Her foot tapped at the floor at irregular intervals, matching the beat of the song in her heart (Jazz was the worst possible genre to pace her life, but then again, when was she ever regularly spaced?).
She played the whistling song in her head once more, too tired to fight her smile. She could have a much worse soulmate, that was for sure. Who wouldn’t want a sweet, considerate, objectively handsome if she really let herself think about it—
A nudge against her side let her know Tikki had phased into her purse. Almost too hastily, she excused herself to the washroom.
“So? What’s the verdict? I haven’t been able to focus all day!” She whispered, having been too anxious to wait for the door to close behind her.
“I’m so sorry, Marinette.”
Another wave of anxiety. Marinette took a shaky breath in. “What do you mean?”
Tikki’s little hands wrung each other dry as she spoke. “There was a miscommunication between Plagg and Chat Noir, and he knows you’re Ladybug now.”
Her charge slid to the floor by the sinks before her feet could give out completely. He knew? How could this have happened?
She fought the urge to cover her face and cringe. What now?
The door pushed in, Alya successfully interrupting her thoughts.
“Marinette! You okay?”
“Yeah!” Faster than a zip of her yo-yo, her hands flew to the hem of her pink jeans. “Just re-cuffing my jeans. What’s up?”
Alya gave Marinette a quirky sort-of look before shaking her head in amusement. “Miss Bustier wanted me to come get you. We’re starting the holiday party!”
“Let’s get going then!” Marinette locked arms with Alya as they walked out. If neither girl talked about the odd scene, perhaps they would both forget.
The party went well, the shiny menorah and shamash reflecting the small tree’s lights in dazzling patterns on the walls. The atmosphere was pleasant, the treats shared were delicious, and their White Elephant gift exchange went very well. The stuffed dinosaur she made ended up with Rose, and Marinette gratefully accepted a new oversized hat from Nino.
Adrien had caught her eyes a few times too many for her own comfort. It felt almost wrong to be thinking only of her partner while searching Adrien’s eyes for hidden meaning. She took his warm gaze and soft smile with a grain of salt, then turned her mind away to think of Chat Noir’s soft, affectionate gaze and his broad, warm smile that never failed to make her grin in return. For some reason, Adrien’s smile made Marinette want to listen to Chat’s song.
All too soon, the party came to a close. She bade her goodbyes, wished her friends a happy holiday break, and started to walk home in the early minutes of dusk. A fun day of sweet treats and party games left her heart warm and content. The soft tinkling of street lamps illuminating all around her brought a small spread of euphoria in her chest. Shadows danced in the corners of her eyes, drawing her gaze up to the rooftops, where her favorite pair of inhuman green eyes peered back at her. Chat leapt across the buildings in front of her, just enough to stop and look back for a moment as she walked.
Her stomach churned as they locked eyes. Feet glued to the pavement, she stared up at him, waiting for him to… well, she wasn't sure what she was waiting for. He was just looking at her, perched up four stories above her, head tilted.
Oh, she thought belatedly, he wants to talk.
With a small burst of resolution, she gave him a smile before willing her feet to move towards her house. By now the sun had set and the sky was gradually turning dark, a deep ocean encouraging her escape. As much as she longed to fall into the stars and float away, she also found herself giddy with excitement.
Their shared symphony played in her head as she opened the door to her home and excused herself upstairs, the melody almost unbidden, but she knew in her heart she had been longing to allow herself to enjoy it again.
Although, feeling ready for the next chapter of life was different than turning the page itself. There was sure to be shaky hands and stuttered words, confusion and maybe a little more bittersweet than she’d like, but, little did she know, there was going to be acceptance, overpowering emotions, tears, and many long hugs (and perhaps a few kisses), but that was life.
Besides, with her soulmate and partner by her side, she could do anything.
* * * *
* * * *
Also! I may have gotten a little carried away and composed the leitmotif and the soulmate song as well~! You can listen to it here :)
#happy holidays!#i had a lot of fun doing this for you#ps! there’s a surprise for you at the end :)#!!!#lovesquare obsessed secret santa#secret santa 2020#miraculous ladybug#miraculous#ml#mlb#not baseball#my writing#ladybug#chat noir#cat noir#marichat#marinedrien#adrinette#adrienette#miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir#miraculous tales of ladybug and cat noir#:)
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Eternal Flame- 9/? Kol Mikaelson
Vampires... They're Real
WC: 1675
We all fell asleep in Sams room the following night while watching his favourite comfort movie in his bed. That's the twelfth time I've seen Top Gun now. We were or at least I was woken up by a loud cough coming from the doorway, I opened my eyes to reveal that I fell asleep on the floor last night with the three boys on the bed, and they say chivalry is dead. I looked at the digital clock on Sams bedside cabinet which read 11.03 which made me sit up abruptly looking at the doorway to see Meredith, she must have stayed over as well. I got up searching for my phone to reveal i had 12 texts from Elena, 5 from Ric and a voicemail from the least likely person, Damon Salvatore. I shoved it into my back pocket before heading to the door leaving the trio sleeping peacefully. I walked down the stairs to see Meredith, Harry, and Lucy. Sams parents.
"I am so sorry for your loss Mr. and Mrs. Fell. You too Meredith." I told them sincerely upset about the death of Tobias Fell. "Do they know the cause of death?" I asked the trio which Lucy replied.
"Animal attack." Strained voice probably from crying and comforting her husband.
Animal attack.
Vampires.
"That's terrible." I said still feeling bad for them especially Meredith and Harry but still genuinely hoping that it was a tomb vampire and not Stefan. "Again, I'm sorry for your loss." This created a weak smile from Lucy and a nod from Meredith, Harry staring into space. I heard a honk from outside that sounded like a certain Salvatores vintage car. "That's my ride."
"I'll show you out," Meredith got out standing up heading towards the door I've been going in and out since freshman year.
"Can you tell Sam to text me whenever he wants. I'll be free for him." She nodded confirming she'll pass on the message to my best friend. I walked out and saw the blue vehicle with a raven-haired vampire driver making me nearly turn back and go back to Sam. I walked towards him and got into the car. I put the seatbelt on then he sped away.
"Do you not answer your texts?" He questioned in that classic Damon tone. I rolled my eyes.
"When a family member of my best friends has been killed via 'animal attack' I tend to stick by him" I replied snarkily making him roll his eyes. "Well, what's with the texts and calls?" It was his time to show off his 'iconic' smirk.
"Well, I assume you're aware of the little ghost problem we had last night." I hummed in agreement my mind going back to the conversation i had with my deceased aunt "Well the ghost of Mason Lockwood gave me a visit and showed me something very interesting in the Lockwood cellar" he told me stretching the very before stopping not giving me any hints of what it may be.
"Well? What is it?" I asked annoyed at the vampire already, two minutes must be a record.
"Patience is a virtue, middle Gilbert" making me roll my eyes for what seems to be the tenth time in three minutes. We sat in silence on the way to the Lockwood cellar before getting out the car and walking a good five minutes "Could you be any slower?" Damon asked annoyed by my speed making me contemplate going slower just to annoy him.
"I can try." He turned back and glared at me we walked into the cellar seeing my sister and Ric who must have gotten here not long before us as they were walking down the hidden tunnel in the cellar. Damon put a finger to his month as if be quiet, i narrowed my eyes but nevertheless I went behind him quiet to see where this is going. I overheard Ric saying to Elena.
"Careful where you shine that thing. Bats hate the light."
"Wait, what?" Elena replied making me keep a laugh in when Damon comes down the tunnel standing behind her whispers.
"Elena!" Which she turns around to see the blue-eyed vampire "Boo!" scaring the petit brunette as I see he jump with fright.
"Ah, god Damon!" She yelled making me smile before pushing past him to stand next to Ric.
"Scaredy-cat!" He goads.
"Just ignore him. That's what I do." Ric advises Elena and me rolling his eyes.
"To be fair Ric," he looked at me while I was looking at the floor expecting me to actually defend a Salvatore "it is quite hard at times, his voice is just that annoying. Its impossible" making the doppelganger and hunter smirk at the scowl on the vampires' face.
"Your real brave when your somewhere I can't reach you" I gave him a smirk in retaliation to the statement.
"So, you really can't get in?" my twin asks the annoyed creature.
"No. Seems like even the ancient Lockwoods were anti-vampire." Damon told the elder Gilbert.
"Wonder why?" I sarcastically muttered making him give me a glare which I ignored too busy trying not to fall in the dark and rough terrain.
"What do you mean ancient?" Elena questions oblivious to the comment made towards the Salvatore and his species. His eyes go back to my sister, he gestured in a way to carry on walking.
"See for yourself." The four of us carrying on the walk with two flashlights being our only source of light. "Well, this is as far as I go" Damon states letting the two gilbert sisters and their hunter guardian carry on walking. Elena shines her flashlight on the wall in front of us to show drawings of all kinds seemingly to be Viking runic.
"What is all this?" my sister asks from beside me while I somehow read some of the writing.
"Well as far as I can tell, it's a story." Ric begins "In simple, archaeological terms, it's a really, really old story" he points at a drawing of what is the moon cycle, I think? "That right there, is the moon cycle" after this he points at another drawing on the wall "a man, a wolf." How did I know that was moon cycle?
"A werewolf" Elena says looking mesmerized by the drawings.
"Yeah, it's the 'Lockwood Diaries: Pictionary-Style'" Damon pitches in with an attempt at humor of the possibly huge discovery in front of us.
"But the Lockwoods didn't settle here until the 1860's with the rest of the founders. Who drew these? When were they drawn?" I asked the historian in which he shared a look with the vampire.
"A long time ago" Ric vaguely told me.
"How long?" My sister said backing me up by questioning the hunter as well.
"Long. It gets better. Show them, Ric." Damon once again butted in.
"Names. They're not native. They're written in-"
"Runic, a Viking script" I cut him off making his look at me with eyebrows raised, I shrugged my shoulders.
"Vikings?" my sister said not understand that Vikings were in Mystic Falls.
"This name here, I translated it and it reads Niklaus" Ric tells us.
"Klaus"
"And Elijah... and Rebekah" pointing towards the names on the wall flashing at a group of names one catching my eye that I'm barely hearing anything, it was only three letters. it was next to Rebekahs making me think that maybe it was another Mikaelson. I was in a weird kind of daze, the only thing breaking me out of the trance I was in while looking at the name was.
"Mikael." That makes me snap my head towards the teacher.
"Mikael? Their dad?" I questioned with a nod of confirmation from Ric.
"Mikael, as in, the vampire hunter who knows how to kill Klaus?" My sister asked all of us.
"Yep. I now like to call him 'Papa Original'" Damon says humor filling his voice while Ric takes pictures of the cave wall.
To break the tension my phone rang to see Sam was texting me,
'Meet me at our place in ten mins?'
I furrow my eyebrows wondering what could be so important that couldn't be said over the phone but sent back a little.
'Sure'.
"Hate to break this lovely revelation short but I have somewhere to be, friend to console. You know the drill." indicating I'm going to speak to Sam which Elena nods in reassurance.
"Yeah go, be with him. Do you need a ride to his place?" She asks me but I shook my head.
"I can walk it but thanks Lena" walking out of the cave missing the look of borderline shock on her face at the nickname I've barely called her since the accident. I walk out of the old Lockwood cellar northwest for a few minutes before reaching a little lake that is usually used for parties but when quiet a peaceful place where Sam and I come to regularly when we need to get away from everything. When I'm there I already see the brunette sitting on a rock.
"Hey, Sam." He turns around while sitting to see me, he turns back around facing the lake with a serious expression on his pale face. "Are you okay? Stupid question. What can I do to help?" I asked reprimanding myself for asking such a stupid question at the beginning. I sat down next to him on the same rock. He gave me a small smile.
"You can keep a secret right?" He asked in all serious.
"Of course," I told him offhandedly.
"No Alexandra. I'm being deadly serious, what I'm about to tell you... I'm not supposed to tell anyone. You can't tell anyone." he told me turning around looking me in dead in the eye. I turned around facing him curious yet worried about my grieving friend.
"Sam, you can tell me anything. I swear on my parents grave I won't tell anyone." I sincerely swore to him.
"It's about" he stopped himself breathing in before sharing
"Vampires... They're real."
********************************************************
A/N: Sorry for the lack of content episode wise in this but I thought I'd give you an idea of how Sam is going to be a recurring maybe even main character and the rest of the episode plus a bit of Sam drama is part two of the episode.
As usual let me know of any grammar, spelling mistakes or British slang/spelling.
Please comment or vote to let me know I'm doing a decent job. I need validation haha.
Thank you for reading lovelies xxx
#kol mikaelson x you#kol mikaelson series#kol mikaelson imagine#kol mikaelson x oc#kol mikaelson x reader#kol mikaelson#the vampire diaries imagine#the vampire diaries#the originals imagine#the originals
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Perfect Distractions
A/N: Hi there, I told you I wouldn’t abandon this little slice of fluff completely! Slow updates yes, but never forgotten <3 I also figured, after today’s episode (no spoilers of course!!), and the overall quarantine situation, you all probably need a bit of brightening up, and now with so much more free time, I’m happy to oblige!
And because I don’t say it enough, thank you so much for reading, and putting up with these now sporadic little updates. Writing time is coming in either waves or drips, but I so so appreciate the encouragement, and the warm welcome the fandom always brings! As much as I haven’t forgotten this story, it’s always nice to know the fandom hasn’t forgotten me completely either haha ^_^”
Jamie’s being dramatic, Claire has too many thoughts, and as always, the facts of this fanfic are contrived specifically to make fluffy university/modern-day au scenarios. Please let me know what you think!
Part One: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] |
Part Two: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] |
Part Three: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] |
Part Four: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] |
Part Five: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] |
Part Six: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] |
Part Seven: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] |
Part Eight: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] |
Part Nine: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] |
Part Ten: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] |
Part Eleven: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] |
Part Twelve: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [ Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] |
Part Thirteen: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] |
Part Fourteen: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5]
Part Fifteen: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] |
Part Sixteen: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] |
Part Seventeen: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] |
Part Eighteen: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] |
Part Nineteen: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] |
Part Twenty: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] |
Part Twenty-One: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] |
Part Twenty-Two: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] |
Part Twenty-Three: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5]
Part Twenty-Four: Burdens |
Chapter 1
Thursdays, Jamie had decided, were the best.
Well, no, second only to the weekends perhaps but certainly high-ranking for sure. Thursdays he had only one class in the afternoon, and that afforded him more than ample time to snuggle into Claire in bed and see where the morning took them.
Not that they didn’t always end up in the same place – limbs and hearts entangled – but he wasn’t complaining.
Except for this Thursday, he realized as he blindly groped for Claire beside him and came up empty handed.
With a grunt, he begrudgingly floated up to full consciousness and sat up, blearily scanning the room to no avail. Squinting at the backlight of his phone – and the perfectly framed lock screen of a candid Claire adorably sleeping atop a textbook at the dining table – he frowned at the time.
7:15 a.m.?
7:15 was entirely unacceptable for lazy Thursday mornings with Claire.
He was about to call out her name when he caught the scent of something frying. Not burnt, he noted right away as he fished around the floor for his shorts and slipped them on. There was a faint sizzling noise coming from downstairs and, with no real sense of urgency but intent all the same, he half-consciously padded out of the room.
“Sassenach?” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes as he followed her absent humming into the kitchen.
She hadn’t heard him, and he took a moment to lean against the doorframe and watch her. Her back was facing him as – he assumed by the smell and the wee apron tied haphazardly around her waist – she fried eggs on the stovetop, and maybe it was the sheer domesticity or his barely waking state, but he felt his heart clench at the sight. His need from earlier burning into something much deeper than base desire.
Within seconds and with very little thought, he crossed the room and pulled her tight against him, arms snaking around her waist with a soft rumble in his chest that ended on a chuckle as she gasped.
“Ye’re makin’ breakfast?” he mumbled, dropping his head into her neck like he could fall asleep right then and there.
“I was,” she said, wriggling her arms free in an attempt to get back at it. “Good morning to you too, love.” She placed a quick kiss on his crown, and he smiled, returning it against her neck.
“Why’re ye dressed?”
“Joe and I are touring campuses today and tomorrow, remember?”
“Och ayyye,” he drew out with a needlessly heavy sigh. “Ye’re leaving me.”
“You can tone down the dramatics, darling,” she laughed, and he didn’t need to look up at her to know she was rolling her eyes at him. “I’ll be back tomorrow night.”
Her tone did little to assuage his dramatics. In fact, in his half-waking state he suddenly and brilliantly decided that he wasn’t being dramatic enough, as evidenced by him leaning more of his weight onto her like it might compel her to stay and take root in the kitchen tiles. Or better yet, their bed upstairs.
“Ye’re sure there isna anything I can do to convince ye to stay?”
“Mm, I do believe you tried your very best last night.”
He huffed, soberly. “I can do better, always do like the challenge.”
She made a noise equal parts grunting and giggling as she wriggled around in his arms to face him, poking him indignantly in the cheek.
“Go sit down. I’ll bring your breakfast over.”
He inhaled, slow and deep as he stared her down and she, as resolute as ever, stared right back.
He deflated—
“Fine.”
—then kissed her quickly before retreating to the stools on the other side of the kitchen island.
------
24 things, including train and bus schedules, meeting places, and pertinent questions to ask, completely blurred and dissipated as Jamie’s large arms enveloped her.
His clinginess was to be expected, she thought with a smile as she plated the eggs and turned the stove off. She had hoped the food would distract him first, but in a wager she happily lost, was proven wrong.
The plates had barely touched the island when she found herself swept up and seated astride his lap, a sleep-tousled but thoroughly smug face waiting for her before descending with purpose into her neck.
“You’re—mmph—supposed to be eating the eggs, Jamie!” She squirmed with little conviction, protests dotted with giggles.
“It’s on my to-do list,” he murmured as he nipped his way towards her collarbone.
She shivered as his teeth sunk into her, but tugged at his ear to stop him.
“If I have to spend the whole day hiding a hickey from my future professors and Joe – goddamn – Abernathy—” She held his face by both ears now. “—You will be in so much trouble.”
“Och, aye?” he said with a quirked eyebrow.
She sighed and conceded to kissing him back, because at least that kept his lips from her neck; the prospect of being in trouble with her had never proven to be an effective threat anyway.
“When are ye supposed to meet Abernathy?”
“Mm, an 20 minutes or so?”
Close as they were, she could feel both the corner of his mouth lift upwards and pleased Scottish-sounding noise rumble in his chest.
“Like I said, always do like the challen—”
They both froze at the sound of the doorbell ringing. Two pairs of eyebrows immediately furrowed.
“Is Joe meeting ye here?”
“No…”
Sliding off Jamie’s lap, Claire quickly straightened her outfit and headed to the front foyer, Jamie padding just behind her but far enough behind that he didn’t know who was at the door until he saw a small set of arms wrap around Claire’s waist, knocking her back a step.
“Fergus! W-what the hell are you doing here?” She pulled him from her, and looked over his head, half-expecting to see Jenny and Ian around the corner.
“How’d ye get here, lad?” Jamie said, thinking much the same thing.
“I do know how to take a bus,” the boy said proudly. “And I saw your address written down on a paper on the fridge.”
Claire and Jamie both blinked, gaping at him for just a moment before Claire recovered first.
“Well that doesn’t answer my question,” she said, folding her arms across her chest. “Don’t you have school?”
His smile faltered only slightly at that.
“Ah oui¸ but—But I do not need to go, it’s alright!”
Claire and Jamie shared a look but, before Jamie could take a stab at reasoning with him, Claire’s phone alarm chimed.
“Shit, I’ve got to go. I—”
Her eyes fell squarely on their new charge and paused. While he likely wouldn’t cause much trouble during the tours, there was the hotel rooms she and Joe booked. But she could potentially set up some pillows on a couch for him if she needed to—
Jamie ran a hand down her arm, as if divining her thoughts.
“It’s alright lass, I’ll take him to campus.”
“Are you sure?”
“Aye.” He raised an eyebrow at Fergus, who’s bright-eyed smile remained relatively unfazed. “He may not want to go to school, but I have to.”
Now with much more than 24 different thoughts swirling around her head, Claire shrugged. It’d have to do.
“Well alright, call me if you need anything,” she said before grabbing her coat and the bag she had packed by the stairs.
“We’ll be fine, a nighean,” Jamie said, squeezing her hand. “I’d say dinna worry about us, but I ken ye’re going to anyway.”
“I’ll try not to, I guess.” His hand came up to cup her cheek and she leaned into it. “See you tomorrow.”
Keenly aware of one young boy’s eyes on them, Jamie kissed her forehead quickly. Not their typical goodbye, but Claire supposed Jamie’s early morning clinginess was a blessing after all.
Stepping out of his arms to rub Fergus’ mop of curls, she walked past them toward the front door.
“Behave yourself!”
“Are you talking to me, or M’sieur?” Fergus laughed.
“Both!”
Chapter 2 Coming Soon!
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