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starry-bi-sky · 1 year ago

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I saw a post a few months ago (and damn was it really months? In PLURAL?) that was a cracky dpxdc au where the LOS were making Damian clones but the clones kept getting snatched by ghost portals and dropped into Danny’s lap and Danny just goes “ok ig this is my life now” and takes care of each one until he has his own mini army of Damian Clones.

And I remembered it a few days ago, and now I've been thinking about it again. Because I love clone aus (see: clone danny au, the 'danny is thomas wayne' au) because it itches the part of my mind that loves exploring personhood and the exploration of identity and what it means to be clone.

(What do you do when nothing about you is unique? When your face, your eyes, your hands, your hair, your voice, all the way down to your heart, all belong to someone else?)

(When it comes to nature vs nurture what of you came from your environment and your experiences, and what of you was already programmed into you from the DNA that made you?)

(What do you do to make it unique? What do you do to make you unique?)

And if I could remember who made that post I'd @ them right now because it was their original post that inspired this, but I'm just thinking of if the au only had One Singular Damian clone that fell into Danny's life.

(a read more because im apparently incapable of making posts that are less than 1k words...)

One Damian who knew he was a clone and knew that he was to either bring the original back to base or kill him to take his place, who was being trained the same way but kept getting compared to his original over and over again. Like an older sibling who you can never match up to. Who is still a child who craves adult affection and validation and praise, and can't get it because nothing about him is original.

One Damian who, at six years old, in a twist of fate is sucked through a swirling portal and lands in Amity Park, directly on top of, in front of, or in line of sight of one Daniel Fenton, half-ghost extraordinaire and local hero.

What happens next?

Well, for one, Danny recognizes him immediately. He would recognize the face of Damian Wayne anywhere because his best friend was ranting about him all week about Damian Wayne's environmental stuff he does.

And for two, he would recognize that the Damian Wayne in front of him was not Damian Wayne. Because Damian Wayne was a teenager. And the Damian Wayne in front of him is a child. Six years old.

Getting this not-Damian but also-Damian to go along with Danny is not, not an easy task. The tiny Damian is aggressive, regal, and at this point in time, six years old, barely understanding english. He also has a sword.

It takes all day and a google translator to get this Tiny Damian to finally agree to go home with Danny. It's a miracle. Seriously. A tried and true miracle. And its also only when Danny has to fight a ghost does he finally agree, saying something in arabic that Danny doesn't understand.

Danny flies them both home, carrying Tiny Damian like a koala. The ensuing conversation in his room is not any better. It is tiring, long, and exhausting. Tiny Damian is six years old, and every single thing he says when Danny asks where he came from is met with a poorly translated "that's classified".

Danny keeps an eye on the news. There are no reports of Damian Wayne going missing, in fact he's been rather public. Bruce Wayne is not one to lie about his children going missing, and Damian's secretive behavior and young age draws Danny to one conclusion: Damian is a clone.

He doesn't know why Damian Wayne is being cloned. Frankly he doesn't really wanna know, because whatever organization that did it doesn't seem too pure-of-heart if tiny-Damian's immediate attempt of murder when they first met is of any indication. But he's too busy taking care of his city, that he doesn't have time to deal with whatever shady business Tiny-Damian was produced from.

In the end though, he decides that this Tiny-Damian is not going back to whatever place he came from. Tiny Damian disagrees. It is a long, nebulous problem of Damian trying to run away, Danny catching him, and Danny pulling him back home.

In that time, Danny downloads a language app and starts learning Arabic so that they can talk to each other properly. Damian slowly, slowly, starts picking up English.

In that time, Danny also has to inform his friends and his sister about Damian. Tiny Damian is not a fan of this. That is another argument they have. Tiny Damian does not like Sam or Tucker for a long, long while. He only really "listens" to Danny, citing something in arabic that Danny still cannot understand, but has a repeated use of the word "lieazir". It's the only word that Danny can catch in a sentence immediately, because its what little Damian calls Danny.

Tiny Damian, in that front, is very interested in Danny's powers and in his parents work. He finds tubberware of ectoplasm in the fridge once while they're down in the kitchen and calls it something with the word lieazir in it. The other word is something that Danny later learns means water in arabic.

It makes him feel even more uneasy of whatever place little Damian came from.

It takes weeks for little Damian to finally give up on escaping, and then a few weeks more for him to almost entirely lose his spunk. Danny isn't sure what started it. It was as if he'd been flipped with an off-switch.

(Damian had been so confident that the League would go looking for him after his disappearance. He was wrong, and he is crushed. He is still a child, alone, in a country very big and very busy, where nobody understands what he's saying. He feels powerless, helpless.)

(The lazarus boy who calls himself Danyal is nice to him in a way the league has never been, and he's making an effort to learn Damian's language. But he leaves for hours at a time and Damian doesn't have much else to do but wait in this house for him to come back.)

(He tried leaving, many many times, but he doesn't understand the street signs, the roads, the people. He doesn't know where he is, and he feels scared in a way that he's not felt in the League. Danny finds him every single time, hours later when Damian is lost somewhere in Amity Park)

(And he never yells at him. Never. The first time this happens, Damian puffs himself up and prepares himself for this strange lazarus boy to yell at him. Damian feels like he's tripped on the last step of the stairs when Danyal doesn't yell at him.)

(He can tell he's frustrated by the tone of his voice, but when Danyal lays eyes on him he just looks relieved. He gets scolded on the flight home, but Damian doesn't understand any of it other than Danyal just sounds worried. Not angry. He gets a proper scolding once they get back, with Danyal typing into the google translator and playing it for Damian to hear.)

(This happens every single time until Damian finally agrees to stop running away.)

It's with Jazz's help that Danny finally realizes that Damian was depressed. It's with her help again that Danny tries helping with it. It's like trying to get a stray cat to trust him. And with everything else they've done, it takes a long time.

And it is so, so worth it when it all works out.

Tiny Damian doesn't really like Sam, or Tucker, but he likes Danny. And he finally starts calling him his name. His full name, but his name nonetheless. Danny doesn't bother correcting him. He's not looking a gift horse in the mouth. And it's endearing hearing Damian call him Danyal.

Damian in this time, also begins to take more initiative into learning English. And they teach each other words they know. Danny buys flash cards and writes the english alphabet on them, and then finds a book on arabic to teach himself and Damian. Sam and Tucker and Jazz start learning as well.

And then when Danny knows enough arabic and Damian knows enough english, and Damian trusts Danny, Damian tells him he's a clone. It's a quiet moment, late at night when Danny takes Damian up to the ops center to look at what stars they could see through the light pollution.

It'd be very easy for Danny to tell him, "I know. I could tell from the start.". He doesn't, it's not the time nor the place, and Danny's matured enough to know when to open his mouth and when to keep it shut. He lets Damian, almost seven now, tell him that he's a clone of Damian Wayne. Lets him tell him why he was made, what his purpose was.

(Danny will need a minute later to process the fact that Damian Wayne originally came from some kind of... assassin league with an obsession with immortality. But he's focused on Damian.)

In the end, he puts an arm around Damian Wayne's clone and pulls him into his side. Thanks him for trusting him, it must've been hard to tell him, that he's brave for being able to. And if he wants to, they can find a way to get into contact with the Waynes and let Wayne know about him.

Damian hides his face in Danny's ribs and holds him tight, and tells him he doesn't want to. Danny leaves it at that.

Perhaps it would be more morally ethical to alert Damian Wayne that there was a clone of him running around, that his... uh, grandfather was making clones of him. Hell, Danny would have liked it. But little Damian has asked him not to say anything, and little Damian needs someone to rely on; someone he can trust.

And in the end, its not that hard of a decision to make. Danny knows little Damian more than he knows Damian Wayne, and while Danny likes to think he's a good person, he knows he's not a great one. Nor a perfect one. He cares more about someone he knows than someone he doesn't.

If Sam tries to argue with him about it, then Danny will just double down. If Damian doesn't want to tell Wayne about his existence, then it's not their place to say otherwise.

There's a lot more to talk about over Damian's cloning, like what he wants to do moving forward. But that's a long conversation not meant to be one taken late at night. Little Damian is falling asleep at his side, seemingly much more relaxed than he did before, and Danny wasn't gonna ruin that.

And later he's right, it is a long conversation, and a slow one. Talking with Jazz about it helps him figure out what to do moving forward, and their best bet is to let Damian figure out what he wants to do. So he sits Damian down at the dinner table the next morning and tells him before breakfast that he doesn't need to be Damian Wayne.

He doesn't need to learn all the same things Damian Wayne did. He doesn't need to do anything that Damian Wayne does. And little Damian is seven, and he's smart, but Danny still has to word it in a way that's not too complex for him to realize.

And in the end, what he says essentially boils down to "You are not Damian Wayne, you are just you. Don't be anyone else but you." and it'll take more time to drill that into his mind when all he's ever heard and learned from is that he was a copy of Damian Wayne, and he must act like Damian Wayne. But it'll happen.

It's a hard task when Danny's the only person Damian really trusts and he can't be by his side all the time, but he starts to warm up to the rest of Danny's family. The Fenton parents know of him, it's hard to keep a six year old child a secret for as long as Danny did without eventually having to come clean about it. His parents, much to Danny's relief, are very welcoming to Damian.

Damian figures out what he likes. Slowly. He's six years old, almost seven, and nobody expects of him to figure out who he is immediately. No child knows who they are right off the bat. So like any child he begins to explore. His english is better but still rough, and he struggles to read said language, but the Fenton family are happy to help even if Damian learns words that no normal seven year old does. (Many of them scientific.)

Damian realizes he likes stars, even if said interest is influenced by the association to Danny. Danny is all too delighted to tell him all about them, and in the process takes him flying out somewhere where the light pollution doesn't reach and showing him where constellations are.

Damian is six-almost-seven, so he doesn't find all of them, but Danny helps him figure out the easier ones. He tells him the scientific facts behind them, and then tells him about the mythos of the constellations. Later on they make their own constellations and make up stories about what they are.

(Damian adores Danny out of anyone else in the Fenton Family. The name Danyal turns to Dany. If anyone asks, Daniel Fenton is Damian's big brother.)

(He still refers to Jazz as Jazmine, and Danny's parents as Mrs. and Mr. Fenton.)

He realizes that, like his original, he loves animals, and he becomes vegetarian too. Sam is smug and Tucker is disappointed, but Damian doesn't super care about their opinions. ...he's getting better at liking them, even if he thinks Manson is a bit snobby and Foley is too much at times.

Its inevitable that the conversation of school comes into play. Damian can't stay home all day and he needs proper schooling. So after a long talk with Damian, they agree to send him to elementary school.

...And before they can do that the Fenton Family goes through with legally adopting Damian into the family as Damian Fenton. It takes convincing to get the administration to enroll him into the first grade without a proper schooling background.

(On his adoption form, Damian asks to change his birthday to the day he met Danny. Perhaps its not the most responsible thing to agree to, but Danny wants Damian to find himself. And its not like they know when his actual birthday was.)

And despite where he learned it from, Damian quite likes sparring. And he quite likes sparring with Danny in particular. Danny makes it fun, something that was foreign in his old league training, and Danny never hurts him. It's a lot like roughhousing.

Danny tells Damian how he got his powers, and how his parents don't know. Damian wakes up late at night to Danny sneaking out of the room (their house is not big enough to give Damian an individual room, and Danny agreed to share his) to go fight ghosts.

It's upsetting. Damian knows that Danny gets injured in those fights, even if Danny never comes home until after those injuries have been fixed up. He wants to help, and he voices it, and Danny shoots him down.

It becomes an argument, something that has happened less and less over the months.

Damian is experienced.

Damian is a child.

Damian knows how to fight.

Damian is mortal and fragile. He is a tiny, squishy human boy and the people Danny fights are ghosts who are near-indestructible. Who are intimately acquainted with death but also do not remember that humans are capable of it. Especially when they're fighting.

Damian says that Batman's rogues are capable of the same thing, that he lets his Robins help him fight.

And Danny says he is not Batman and he will not allow Damian to fight ghosts with him. Those ghosts will kill him and it will hurt. Dying hurts in a way that is terrifying and unimaginable and he will not risk Damian experiencing it. Not even Sam and Tucker help him in his fights most of the time, they are not able to. Not in the way Danny can.

Damian doesn't talk to him all day the following morning, but Danny does not budge on his decision. Damian tries to follow him out the next night, and Danny catches him and takes him back. Over, and over, and over again.

Until finally he gets intercepted by Skulker while taking Damian back home and is forced to fight him in front of Damian. (If it had been his choice, he would not have let Damian see it at all.)

It's not pretty. Skulker has new weapons, weapons that hurt, a lot. Danny is stuck between trying to take him down and trying to protect Damian from Skulker's attacks at him and from all the debris being created from the fight. It's with Damian's quick thinking and fast feet that finally helps Danny take Skulker out. But Danny is badly injured in the aftermath.

He doesn't have time to take Damian home and get medical attention. So he takes Damian with him to wherever he has his supplies stashed. He doesn't call Sam or Tucker or Jazz, and has to stitch himself up alone, with Damian watching.

Damian is quiet the entire time, he feels awful. Danny's not mad at him -- well, he is. But not because he had to protect him. He's just tired, and a little disappointed in him. Damian doesn't sneak out again. But he still feels helpless.

Danny tells him that that is why he doesn't want Damian to help him. Ghosts, his ghosts, are hard to fight. They are powerful, and his 'rogues' are mean. They will not care that Damian is a mortal child, if he picks a fight with them, they will fight back. And Damian is not immune to certain ghost powers like Danny is.

Damian is silent. He wants to help. But Danny is right: he is a squishy, mortal, living child. There is not much he can do to help Danny. Not without any gear to do it. Not without any powers to do it. He wants to help. He cannot.

Damian, almost-seven-years old, begins to cry. It is the last thing Danny was expecting, and for a moment he is at a loss of what to do.

Damian reaches for him -- in the Fenton family, physical affection is expected. Damian is getting used to it, but Danny is the only one he likes touching him -- and then stops, cringing away like he only just remembered that Danny was hurt.

He only cries harder.

Danny meets him halfway and pulls him into his arms, situating Damian between his knees from where he's sitting. Through his tears, Damian says he wants to help. He wants to help. He doesn't want Danny to get hurt anymore. He doesn't want Danny to fight ghosts alone anymore. He's scared that Danny will stop coming back.

Danny doesn't have anything to say to reassure him. Can't say anything to reassure him. It'll all just be lies. He's not going to stop fighting ghosts, he can't. He's not going to stop getting hurt, he can't. He's not going to bring Damian with him, he can't. He'd never be able to live with himself.

"I'll always come back." He says though, because that is something he can promise. Whether dead or alive, he'll come back.

When the tears finally stop, Damian doesn't say anything again. He sniffles, and presses his ear to Danny's chest, listening to the steady, slow heartbeat. If he puts his ear to his sternum and strains his ear, Damian would almost hear the low hum of Danny's ghost core, like a small dwarf sun.

"If you die, I'll drag you to the Lazarus pools myself." Damian mumbles eventually, his voice sleep-full. It's spoken in arabic, and Danny only understands half of it.

He laughs quietly, and smoothes his hand over Damian's hair. He hasn't had a haircut since he arrived, it's gotten long and there are curls beginning to form. "Okay."

Damian falls asleep shortly after, and with much consideration to his own injuries and Damian's sleeping form, Danny flies them back home.

It's hard to say, but not much changes in routine afterwards. Damian hovers close to Danny, more than usual. Danny still goes out at night, he still stitches himself up before going back, he still goes back home where Damian is waiting worriedly for him. Damian doesn't like falling asleep without knowing Danny is there.

Now the hard question is: when does little Damian finally meet the Waynes for the first time? There's plenty of ways to go about it, both easy and hard. Perhaps we go this way:

The Fenton family are visiting Maddie's sister in Arkansas. And Damian is dragging Danny around through the surrounding forest. It's his first time being in a forest this large since he moved in with the Fentons. Safe to say he is delighted by all of the nature, and he's dragging Danny along with him.

Danny likes the peace and quiet it gives him, he's found that he enjoys the rural area more than he likes the city. He's happy to let Damian point out every plant he recognizes, even if some of it is in arabic.

They walk around all day until Damian gets tired, and then at night when the sky is clear Danny and him go look at the stars. It's peaceful at first.

On the third day of their visit, Damian drags Danny out far from the house. It's slightly worrying, but Danny can always fly them back if it gets too late.

It's in the woods that Danny and Damian stray much too far from Alicia's house, and from there in the early evening that they run into Batman and Red Robin, both of them in rough 'just got out of a fight' shape.

Safe to say, it was the last thing any of them expected to run into. Damian and Danny had stopped at a small crik to rest, and the two vigilantes came through the tree line on the other side.

It was... quite the staring contest.

Damian, now seven years old at this point, forgot to mention that the Waynes were vigilantes when he told Danny he was a clone. But he was told that Batman was his original's father.

Before anyone can say anything, little Damian wraps his arms tight around Danny's middle and stares Batman and Red Robin down. His sharp edges have softened around the Fentons. But he makes no exceptions to anyone else outside of Danny's immediate social circle.

Danny's arm automatically goes around Damian's shoulders, and he looks between both Red and Batman uneasily. If they were here then it meant that there was something unsafe nearby. Danny did not fight the living, and he wasn't going to put Damian in the crosshairs of anything that does.

"Should... should we leave?" He asks, brows knotted together with a frown. He stands. "Is there something going on nearby?"

Batman suddenly grunts, and looks at him. "It's been handled." He says, and his voice is gruffer than Danny imagined it. Lower. Danny is not all that comfortable with that answer.

"Do you guys live nearby?" Red Robin asks, and Danny can't help but notice that he keeps looking at Damian. Warily. In fact, so is Batman.

He pushes Damian behind him slightly, and Damian's grip tightens on him. "Not... exactly." He says, his eyes narrowing slightly. "My family's visiting my Aunt and my brother wanted to explore since it's his first time out of the city, I guess we wandered too far away if we're running into you."

There's no visible indication of whether or not both Bats reacted to him calling Damian his brother. But he can all but feel little Damian preen at the title, it makes Danny's mouth twitch into a smile as his hand finds Damian's hair.

"Would we be able to go back with you?" Red Robin asks, startling both Danny and seemingly Batman, who looks at him instantly.

"Red Robin." He growls out, and Red Robin throws Batman a look of annoyance.

"We are lost, B. They jammed the comms and our trackers back there and it hasn't come back on yet, his aunt may have the signal we need to let the others know where we are."

They end up walking back with Danny and Damian. It's silent, and awkward, and Danny has Damian walking on his opposite side so he's not near the vigilantes. Red Robin is fiddling with a phone but still can't get a signal.

Batman is silently brooding.

Red eventually gives up and shoves the phone into a pocket on his belt, then turns to make conversation with Danny. "I never thanked you for letting us walk with you. Thanks, by the way."

Danny blinks at him, and smiles awkwardly. "No problem, man," he says, "I'm uh, Danny." He glances down at Damian, who looks up at him with big green eyes, and Damian nods quietly.

He looks back at Red Robin, and says, "This is my little brother, Damian." And Damian peers over his side and glares at Red Robin -- and Batman, who looks over when Danny says his name.

"He looks like Damian Wayne," Red Robin notes, head tilting like he's inspecting him.

Danny huffs dryly, "We get that a lot."

Red Robin smiles at him, its a tilted thing. It makes Danny uneasy. "Where did you say you were from?"

"I didn't," Danny says bluntly, and he really doesn't want to tell them where he's from. Not when Red Robin was acting strange, but they're vigilantes and notorious for their detective skills. If he's suspicious, they'll look into him. "But I'm from Amity Park."

Damian in that moment, peers around Danny again and scowls at Red Robin. Full on scowls at him, as if it were the first months when he met Danny. "You're being nosy." He sneers, his hand squeezing Danny's.

"Damian," Danny hisses, suppressing a smile. Damian jumps like he's been startled, and looks up at him with big green eyes. "He's just being curious."

(He lets his smile slip through briefly, just to let Damian know he's not that upset. A tension leaves his little brother's shoulders.)

"But he is." Damian continues, a whine leaking into his voice. Danny jabs him in the ribs with his fingers, and Damian jumps, swatting away his hand with a squeak.

"Would you rather have us walk in dead silence, Dames?" He goes for Damian's ribs again, a grin stretching across his face as Damian jumps back again and swats his hand. "Hm? Hm? We could just walk in awkward silence for the entire trip back, I know you just love awkward silence, little brother."

(It's funny, saying little brother always sounds so uncomfortable when he reads it in books and watches it on tv. But Jazz always makes it sound so natural when she does it, and Danny finds that he sounds the same too.)

Damian continues to bat away his hands, but it's not enough to prevent him from squealing with laughter when Danny gets a good hold on him and starts tickling him. Danny's grin only gets bigger, and he swoops Damian up with his arm and holds him like a football.

"Is that it? Huh? Me, you, and two vigilantes walking back to Aunt Alicia's cabin in complete, utter silence." He says, "You won't get to hear any of my amazing jokes."

Damian's wriggling, trying to pound on Danny's ribs, he's giggling uncontrollably. It's the best sound Danny's ever heard. "Your jokes are awful! Laeazir! Put me down!" He cries, grinning from ear to ear.

(From the side, both Red Robin and Batman tense up.)

Danny chuckles, and through a short series of flips, has Damian sitting on his shoulders. "I will not. You're sitting up in air jail for insulting my hilarious jokes."

Damian tugs on his hair in revenge, harrumphing at him but making no move to get down. Danny squeezes his ankles playfully, and looks back to Batman and Red Robin.

Both vigilantes look at him like he's grown a second head.

....Red Robin looks at him like he's grown a second head. Batman just stares, and then looks away. Danny tilts his head at them, his smile waning. "You guys look like you've seen a ghost or something."

(Damian tugs on his hair again. A silent boo at him.)

Red Robin jerks, "Oh, sorry." He says, not sounding all that sorry. "It's just... I've lost count to how many times I've saved Damian Wayne from the occasional kidnapping and he's always been very... serious. It's just weird seeing a kid that looks like him be... not serious."

From his shoulders he feels Damian hide his smile in his hair, that's another thing they can put on their "Things That Damian Does That Damian Wayne Does Not" list. It started as a joke, but it's been surprisingly helpful for when Damian is questioning himself.

However, Danny is not a fan of the comparison, and he smiles widely, perhaps a tad passive-aggressive. "It's a good thing that my Damian isn't Damian Wayne then." He says, giving him the slight stink eye.

Red Robin picks up on it quickly, and nods.

The rest of the way is spent in idle conversation. It's oddly casual, even if most of the conversation is Danny talking about himself. It's annoying, but he unfortunately understands the reason. Secret identities and all that.

Damian interjects a few times, some parts to talk to Danny, and other parts to throw shade at Batman and Red Robin. Mostly Red Robin, who seems begrudgingly used to it.

("I'm surprised you haven't asked me much about myself." Red Robin says at one point into the conversation. Over his shoulder Batman glares at Red Robin. "A lot of civilians do when they're able."

Danny stares at him. "You're a vigilante." He says, frowning, "Isn't it superhero 101 that you don't ask superheroes for their secret identity?"

"You'd be surprised."

"Huh. Well, no. I'm not gonna ask you about yourself. I quite like talking all about me.")

When they finally reach the cabin, it's late into the night and Danny has moved Damian from his shoulders to his front in a koala-like carry. Damian's fast asleep with his head on Danny's shoulder.

His family was also frantically searching for him, and Jazz sees him first. She immediately turns behind her and yells "I FOUND HIM!". And then sprints over to him, his parents thundering not too far behind.

Both vigilantes are subsequently ignored as Jazz dotes over him and Danny, and soon enough so is his mom and dad. They're all talking all at once, asking him where he was, they were worried sick, did he know how late it was.

He shushes all of them, loudly. And whispers that Damian is sleeping. His family then immediately quiet themselves, and go back to yelling at him in a more appropriate manner.

"Me and Damian walked too far by accident." Danny finally says when he can get a word in, and then he jabs his thumb in Red Robin and Batman's direction. "We also found two superheroes who need assistance."

The speed of which his family all snap their heads over to the direction he's pointing is almost comical. As is all of their expressions of shock.

His mother is the first to regain her senses, and she sighs at him. She sighs! "Only you, Danny." She says, and Jazz snorts into her arm.

#dpxdc #dpdc #dpxdc crossover #danny fenton is not the ghost king #danny phantom au #dpdc danny fenton #i am incapable of making short posts it seems. heavy sigh #this post is open to add ons if anyone's interested 👉👈#this entire au is essentially the song 'Strange Sight' by KT Turnstall from the Tinkerbell and the Neverbeast #This post mostly goes into how danny and damian's relationship develops because i think that's the more important part of the au #also damian's like six i firmly believe he wouldn't know much english #no no he's learning arabic first and then english LATER. if he would ever even get there with the league #iirc all the damian clones liked Danny so i wanna explore how their relationship got to that point. Like what happened for Danny to get eve #getting one Damian clone to like him enough to go up to bat for him? that takes time and patience and i wanna explore that lol #danny's in his late teens here btw.#Clone Damian is a 7yo child and I'm writing him as such because its fun. I thought about having Clone Damian change his name but nothing fi #little clone damian is also A Tad Clingy. Danny is the First Person to have shown him a kindness and Damian Imprinted On Him Like a Duck #i love clone aus and clone aus love me #clone damian and danny are bROOOTHEERSS #i thought about making clone damian's name damon bc its close to the name damian but also i like the idea that clone damian keeps the--#original name and then makes it his own. something about taking the name you were given thats not really yours and MAKING it yours

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velvetsainz · 1 year ago

Text

summary: [ cl16 x fem!reader ] the corsican heat causes very particular problems for charles. part of the hot monaco nights series.

word count: 2.5k

content warnings: smut under the cut (minors dni pls!), a lil hint of plot, use of explicit language, fingering, brief p in v, mention of oral (f!receiving), google-translated french (i cannot be stopped), we're pretending charles can legally drive a boat this size, em dashes, time is a social construct

a/n: you guys wanted to know what happened in corsica, so here's the start to that story. also giant mega jumbo thank you to @lecrep for help with a wonderful plot point which i will not spoil—hehe! enjoy, bbys! xx

You weren’t sure what Charles had to promise Pascale to get you two alone, but somehow he managed it.

It was the summer break of the ‘22 season, and you’d been dating a sweet six months since he’d first kissed you as the clock struck midnight on New Year’s. It had been a small enough party, about thirty or so close friends and their partners—even a few kiddos, to boot. What neither of you knew that night was that half of your shared friends had been scheming to get you two together; despite excuse after excuse about why one of you couldn’t go on a date, finally they’d been able to get the two of you in the same room.

Now, months later, you couldn’t imagine life any differently. It made you think of the future, about forever…

No, you stopped yourself when you found yourself daydreaming, forcing yourself to stay in the moment. You didn’t want to put too much pressure on it, put too many expectations on what was awaiting on the other side of that question. It made everything easier, lighter.

Charles, on the other hand, was head-over-fucking-heels for you. He’d always been a romantic, but something about you—the way you touched him, the way you looked at him, the way you kissed…he found himself easily thinking of his future with you, and he didn’t try to stop himself.

Granted, the way you looked in your sundress as you boarded the boat for a day along the Cosican coast, how could he think of anything but you? The white cotton fabric against your new tan, the short skirt skimming over the tops of your thighs in the most tantalizing way. Thoughts of the dress rucked up around your waist with his head between your legs and hands palming your perfect breasts under what remained of your dress filled his head, eyes glazing over and cock stirring in his trunks. You were trying to kill him, he concluded, and he was as good as dead.

What you had underneath didn’t help anything either. Once he’d gotten you both out to a private little cove and he’d dove into the water to escape the heat of the late morning sun, you decided that it was time to lay out for the afternoon; your master's program had kept you busy enough over the past couple months that you still felt all-too-pale even with your newly-acquired tan. (Not to mention, you swore he kept you up half the night with the way he would pull your hips flush with his own and plant soft, searing kisses on the bare skin of your shoulders and back—you needed the rest.)

Peeling the white sundress over your head and discarding it on one of the padded benches, you’re left in a baby blue string bikini that he swore got even tinier since he’d seen you prancing around inside the villa before you’d left for the marina. Face half submerged, Charles’s hazel eyes watched you like a predator watched its prey as you laid out on one of the cushions on the bow’s sun deck with a book in hand and sunglasses perched on your nose.

He grumbled to himself in broken French as his mind swam and blood rushed from his head to the appendage between his legs. He’d been practically insatiable the past few days, his hands always finding a bare strip of scorching skin where he could get ahold of you before his lips and pouty eyes could take care of the rest.

Thirty minutes passed like that, the Monégasque puttering around in the water before he finally gave in to the siren call.

Padding up the steps from the teak swim deck at the stern of the boat, you could hear as he stalked his way to you, but you kept reading regardless. That was, until you felt a pair of lips pressed to the small of your back, just above the waistband of the aforementioned bikini. It drew a hiss from your lips and a slight jolt as you felt Charles’s cool wet skin press against your legs and his hair dripped onto your mid-back. You whined his name, setting your book face down.

“Oui, chérie?,” he asked in a low voice as he continued pressing heated, open-mouthed kisses up your spine until he was at the juncture between your neck and shoulders.

“Baby you’re cold,” you tried to explain as he sucked a mark into the delicate skin of your neck, your head sagging down and away as you bared your neck for him, “and you’re wet.”

He hummed into your skin, and you could feel the smirk at his lips as the cushion dipped beside one of your hips. You turned onto your side as one of his hands wove itself into the hair just behind your ear, and his lips found yours again as they always seemed to do. But this wasn’t a tame peck, an innocent little kiss—there was heat and tongue and your head was sent spinning off into the abyss as you felt your tummy do that telltale flip while your eyelids felt ten thousand pounds too heavy.

“You are too, ma belle,” Charles teased in a low voice, his eyes dark and pupils blown wide.

Again, a pitiful sound slipped from the back of your throat as his head dipped down to find your neck once more and one of his hands slipped under one of the side ties of your bikini bottoms. “That’s beside the point,” you tried to rebut before he kissed you again, this time pulling the tie undone completely. Oh, how he enjoyed silencing an argument like that…(Meanwhile, you thought it was playing dirty, but you’d allow it—for the storyline of it all, at least…no other reason—absolutely none…)

“Je peux vous aider avec ça,” he hummed in your ear before pulling your earlobe between his teeth, the deft hand on your hip ghosting over the skin of your inner thighs and causing your breath to catch in your throat. “Permettez-moi…”

The honeyed words were like a magical salve to all that ails you, to all the remaining doubts that his kisses hadn’t cured from your mind; you hadn’t had much restraint before, but whatever iota you had remaining was sapped the moment his lust-lidded eyes met your own.

You nodded your head, and that was all the bastard needed as he smirked like the cat that had just gotten away with eating the canary. “So stubborn,” he chided playfully as he pulled one of your legs over his hip and the two of you settled into the cushions in full light of the blue skies above. Thankfully, he didn’t tease you too much as he took to sliding his calloused fingers over the damp velvet of your folds, drawing a soft whine from you like a confectioner pulling taffy in the window of one of the boutique shops you’d seen in Ajaccio.

Your eyes closed once more, head finding the crook of your partner’s neck as he drew the pad of his middle fingers in lazy circles around your pearl and the searing heat of his mouth found yours again. He swallowed every little sound you gave him when he finally sunk two thick fingers into your soaked cunt, curling them against that spongy spot deep inside you. Stars burst behind your eyes at the sensation and your hips bucked in search of more and more and more.

“Charles—,” you whimpered his name pitifully, brows knit together as you concentrated on that tight burning coil in the pit of your tummy that pulled tighter with each stroke of his digits against the velvet heat of your walls.

“Such a good girl f’me, mon ange,” he praised quietly as your hips canted in time with the movement of his fingers and soft sounds of your pleasure melted into the water that lapped at the side of the boat. You weren’t going to last long like this, not with how sensitive he’d made you from his voracious desire to have you falling apart for him every moment he had just enough privacy to do so.

“Gonna—fuck-I–,” you stammered as your thighs clamped around his hand and your body tensed around him like a rubber band pulled taut. Your eyes rolled back and strands of sweat-curled hair stuck to your forehead and nape, your mouth falling open in silent screams of pleasure. Something snapped in the depths of your core, legs quivering while warmth washed over all of you and your toes curled against the back of his calf.

“Tellement belle,” he cooed as he nursed you down from your high with slow, feather-light strokes over your swollen bud, “I’ve got you, chérie.”

Slowly, as you came back to earth from your climax, you watched as he brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean. He knew exactly what he was doing when he pulled in you once more, the wet heat of his mouth meeting your own as you tasted the salt of yourself on his tongue.

Pushing him away so you could catch the breath he’d stolen from your chest, you rolled onto your back as your shoulder ached from how you’d held yourself against him. With an arm over your eyes, you could feel the smoldering embers in your belly reignite—you needed more.

“You’re evil, you know that?,” you teasingly mocked as he pulled your half-undone bottoms off your other leg. Charles wasn’t done with you yet, and you had a few ideas of your own now.

“I think I can live with that,” he shrugged smugly as he sat between your legs, trunks pulled down just enough to free his aching cock. Stroking himself one, two, three times, he smeared the precum over his length before sinking into your depths with a hiss and a slew of French curses that always managed to go straight to your pussy.

Within only a few thrusts, though, he was stalling and readjusting.

“What’s wro—oh!,” you yelped in surprise as he lifted you then, first onto his knees and then onto his feet before taking you to the side of the boat and perching you onto the railing. You could hear the warning bells in your mind start to ring, but you still felt like a pile of jelly from your first orgasm to the point that you weren’t in much of a place to argue. Still, Charles could see the hesitancy in your eyes, feel it in the way that you clung to him.

“Je t’ai, je t’ai,” he reassured with a strong hand on your hip and another guiding one of your arms around his neck. You nodded, trusting he had tight enough hold of you.

But oh how that trust was misplaced…

The angle from which he drove into you was almost too good to be true—if you’d have been standing, your knees would’ve buckled at the very sensation. And given the choked groans in your ear, you knew the Monégasque felt the same way, too.

You closed your eyes for just a moment and then suddenly you were plunged into a dim coldness that enveloped your entire form, a stark contrast from the simmering heat of your boyfriend’s body. Thankfully, your instincts reacted faster than your conscious mind, and you emerged at the surface after only a moment under the waves.

Just as your head broke the surface, a large splash came down just next to you before familiar hands were finding your skin—first at your ankle…then your opposite calf…then your hips and small of your back.

This dumb motherfucker lost his grip amongst the sweat and sunscreen and slick of you and sent you over the side of the boat into the crystalline waters below. It was only a seven-foot or so drop, but still, the point stood: he did not, in fact, have you.

A shocked and incredulous look took over Charles's face as he sputtered and stammered, trying to think of something—anything—to say that would make sense of this disaster of a sexcapade.

You, on the other hand, simply laughed. You were fine—shocked, no doubt, but fine nonetheless.

“You’re so fucked,” you laughed as you wrapped yourself around him once more as you knew there was no meaningful way he could drop you now—you were not making the same mistake twice.

“Je suis foutu vraiment désolé, chérie—I-I thought-I,” he stammered, still falling over himself to try and explain the whole thing before you took his flustered face in your hands and pressed your lips together to shut him up once and for all.

“I’m fine, baby—I’m okay,” you soothed, resting your forehead against his. You could feel his heart pounding in his chest pressed to your own. Slowly, he seemed to come back into his body, into his coherent thoughts as the fear and adrenaline of the whole snafu began to fade.

“However,” you started, leaning back from the man, “I will expect some heavy groveling tonight.” You smirked, a slight mischievous twinkle in your eye.

“‘Groveling’?,” he asked in confusion, “I do not kno—”

“Ne t'inquiète pas,” you teased with a knowing grin, “you’ll figure it out, baby.”

And figure it out he did as you came for the third time that night, pushing his head away from your oversensitive cunt as a chuckle rumbled through his chest and over your sweat-slicked skin. You were scrabbling away over sheets now damp with your sweat and release, whine caught in your throat as Charles tangled a hand in your hair at the nape of your neck to pull your mouth to his own in an absolutely fucking filthy kiss that had your rubbing your thighs together like a damn cricket.

“Charlie,” you whimpered as his hand pried your thighs apart once more with your chest still heaving from your last orgasm.

“I thought you wanted me to grovel, mon cœur,” he snarked as his teeth worried into that same spot between your neck and shoulder as before, tongue soothing over the blossoming mark before he ducked his head further down. You keened for him petulantly, hips bucking momentarily as his plush lips wrapped around a taut nipple.

Still, he looked up at you as he released your nipple with a wet pop, and his hazel eyes met yours in earnest. “Do you want me to stop, chérie—enough for tonight?,” he asked, knuckles gently brushing over your cheek and pushing your now-dampened hair away from your face. You could feel his cock, hot and heavy against your sensitive thighs, and you would’ve had the dignity to blush if it hadn’t been for the fact that you’d probably let him do just about anything he wanted to do to you.

“No, I just—,” you started pitifully before a sharp cry of surprise left your lips as he tugged you firmly by the ankles closer to him once more.

“Good, because I’m not done with you yet, minette,” he half-groaned with that stupid fucking smirk on his lips while pressing against your quivering entrance before he bottomed out in a single press of his hips that made your eyes roll like a pair of marbles on a tile floor.

You were so incredibly fucked. Literally and figuratively.

final note: i now have a sideblog for my writing, @velvetsainz-writes! follow me there for fic recs, inspo, & all things related to my writing!

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evilfrogcereal29 · 4 months ago

Text

ANOTHER NIKTO X READER I HAVE NO IDEA WHERE I WAS GOING WITH THESE SPECIFIC SCENARIOS JUST COME TO MIND DJDHSKS

this is made with a fem!reader in mind, I try to write everything kind of GN, so sorry, but gender is kind of important for this specific piece cause reader's mistaken for a man and doesn't correct anyone to hide their identity

Tw: drinking, swearing, google translated russian, probably a bit ooc Nikto, I make him a lil softer than he probably is.

Nikto x Disguised(?)!fem!reader

- "You're pretty small for a guy"

- you were more than used to that sentence by now, and you never once saught to correct or challenge anyone on it. Who cared? There where more important things than whats in your pants, and it was better that everyone thought you you a man anways.

- You were very private about your identity, you had friends and family back home you didn't want getting wrapped up in this shit. You've seen how petty people can be for just a little bit of revenge.

- you wore a full suit of gear that masked your feminine form, including a helmet with a built in voice changer. (You sounded similar to that of a metro-cop from half-life 2, but with way more clarity)

- You didn't even push the man narrative, everyone just naturally started using he & him for you, unaware of your past or who you really were.

- You were, for the most part, one of the guys. Your file even stated you as male. A serious oversight by the higher-ups.

- So then why was Nikto currently pointing a gun amd looking at a woman in *your* armor?

- *Funny timeskip that i added here because I thought it'd be a bit confusing jumping between these two bullet points*

- You often frequented the showers late at night, it was the only time you could wash yourself uninterrupted by others prying eyes.

- You never realized how often you and Nikto barely evaded seeing eachother. You’d finish, disappear from the showers back to your room, and Nikto would come in, with the same idea of a late shower as you within a few minutes to as soon as 30 seconds after you departed.

- Tonight though, maybe by fate, you both got the idea at the same time, unfortunately for Nikto, you walked just a little faster.

- Nikto almost immediately turned around when he heard the water running, there was no point. Yet there was also frustration, and an overwhelming urge to confront whoever it was. Who the hell was showering at this hour?! He’s never had this problem before, who was deciding to give him problems tonight?

- He cracked the door open, head peeping inside, his eyes widen big at you- whoever you were- in his fellow solider's suit.

- Now it should've occured to someone as intelligent as Nikto that this *was* his fellow solider, but he had known you for a while, and had never suspected anything before, he would've known if you weren't anyone you said you are...right? Had you truely bested Nikto?

- He pulled out his gun right as you seemed to notice him, letting out a yelp. You were a confident 'man' on the battlefield, but now, you were red in the face, caught in a web of lies you didn't even mean to string.

- *Timeskip from earlier ends here :3 there will be more timeskips tho because my ADHD ass LOVES giving context*

- "ублюдок, ты кто? Where is our teammate? What did you do to him?" He growled, cocking his gun and aiming it right at the girl's head.

- Your eyes are wide, as big as half-dollars, and threw your hands up into the air.

- "Nikto its me! Its me!" You plead. Only receiving a sneer and angry grunt

- "You think I'm a stupid man, маленькая девочка?!" He yelled, stepping closer, finger twitching on the trigger, his bloodlust rising.

- The running water is the only thing breaking the terrifying tension in the room, you're mind is racing, how do you get this killer off your back. You needed to prove who you were. Think! Think!

- "Please don't shoot- let me prove it, I can prove it's me Nikto. I-..." You feel your cheeks heating up, god this was fucking embarrassing, and Mr. Emotionless here is the last person you wanted to slip up with. Even if you did prove yourself, he might kill you just because he felt a little angry that you didn't tell him personally. You gulp at that thought.

- Nikto grins under his mask, amused, truely, his gun lowers a bit.

- "Go on." He muses, "tell me something only HE would know." He smirks, thinking about how he's going to lay your body in the shower and watch the blood seep down the drain.

- *Time skip backwards again here, cause I love me some backstory :3*

- Your mind races. You and Nikto weren't 'friends' per se, but you had a past, you had met him right around when he had come out of rehabilitation after his sickening torture. He was worse back then, he would snap on teammates. He snapped on you, pinning you to the wall once, eyes dilated and filled with a primal kind of rage, he pressed down on your neck.

- "Мы сломаем твои кости, как стекло, маленький муравей."

- You had picked up some Russian from being around him and other fluent operators, knowing a decent amount, and in that moment you knew just enough to fear for your life.

- Thankfully Minotaur was in the area, and while he enjoyed watching a good scuffle bewteen two soldiers, he knew very well that this one would end with you dead, breaking up you two with very careful wording and while staying a very far away distance from the still ravenous, blood-thirsty Nikto.

- Surprisingly, you didn't completely avoid him after that, not like you could, the allegiance seemed to love put you two on the same team. Something about the variety of both your skillsets.

- It was true, you had to admit. You and Nikto worked very professionally on the field, quick and easy kills, communicating everything with head & hand gestures instead of talking. It was preferable for the both of you. And always ended with success. So maybe thats why you always ended up near eachother. Still, you always tried to give the Psychotic man the benefit of the doubt. Knowing the story of his past, as told to you by Rodion, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of empathy for the broken man.

- It eventually built up to you having a very personal moment with Nikto.

- You were on a long-term mission, you'd been deployed in Yakutsk, Russia. Yes, one of the coldest fucking places in the entire country. Reaching nearly unalivable conditions- In your opinion- but of course Nikto never complained, he liked the cold after all.

- You had shacked up in an abandoned home on the outskirts of the city for the night. You laid on the one of the dirty mattresses left there by the old tenants, whoever they were.

- You shivered and shook like a rabid animal. Unable to sleep from how cold you were. Even in your full body of armor, it wasn't doing enough. You had those crap emergency blankets but even they, and the addition of the thin poo-stained mattress beneath you, didn't help with the very persistent cold that seemed to seep in through every crack of the home possible.

- You can only assume Nikto is fast asleep, at least, until you hear a soft humming, one that turns into soft singing, its gruff, and deep, but as you continue to listen, you find it rather soothing.

- "Здравствуйте, девочки Здравствуйте, мальчики Смотрите на меня в окно...." He sang, tapping his foot to a beat in his head. It seemed there *were* moments where nikto wasn't being mentally tortured by his own mind. Instead, filled with a melody from childhood.

- You rolled over and saw Nikto sitting criss-cross on the other mattress, his mask was slightly lifted up, but it was too dark to make out anything but the outline of his chin, and there was something in his hand, a bottle of Vodka.

- Now that you found weird, Nikto usually wasn't one to live up to the stereotype, in fact, he barely drank at all. Sure, he did drink lots in his youth, and still did a few lines of coke or toked off the occasional blunt when the offer somehow came up, but he was sworn off alcohol for the most part, especially vodka or anything strong, it gave him extremely awful headaches, he was hangovers bitch.

- You finally sat up after a few minutes, alerting him to your presence, his singing ceased and he pulled his mask back down over his mouth quickly, shooting you a dangerous glare.

- you frowned through your helmet that you kept on, blinking tired, dissapointed eyes at him.

- "Don't stop, I didn't know you could sing like that Nikto... Or that you drank-"

- "Господи, заткнись, сука. ты ничего обо мне не знаешь" he said defensively, you couldn't recognize every word but you recognized every swear, flinching at his vile language, but recognizing the slight slur in his words. A sign of inebriation.

- "Nikto...? You're drunk?" You try to ask, but he follows it up with a quick and defiant 'no' and more swearing. You let him, knowing better than you argue with the bullish man. Let him stop seeing red, than you could keep talking.

- "So.. what about tonight made you finally want to drink, I thought you liked the cold?" You ask, tilting your head.

- "I'm not drinking cause I'm sad." He corrected you coldly, setting the bottle down beside him, "The opposite actually."

- Nikto was...happy drinking? You didn't think normal people did that, but than again Nikto wasn't normal so- you supposed it made sense.

- "Whats the occasion?" You ask after a moment of consideration, and now that you thought about it, it was a bit rude, let the man be happy. occasion or not.

- "Everything is... Quiet tonight. I think we're just happy to be somewhere that feels like home." he says, tapping the side of his head.

- You're happy for him. He deserves moments like these. You find yourself scooting closer, settling down beside him when he doesn't shoo you away.

- "Tell me about your home, Nikto." You ask politely, taking him by surpise, catching him in a moment of vulnerability in his nostalgia and drunk-ness. The usual softness in your real voice, even with the voice changer, was present.

- He goes on to describe his early life to you, albiet, in bit and pieces, it's obvious he's holding back, relinquishing some details while stating others blantly. He also just doesn't remember much. Everything from birth to 5 years old is a blur for him. He just remembers his older brother and mom, and a vague outline of a father figure, but he left before Nikto's 6th birthday, Nikto can't remember his face or the sound of his voice anymore.

- He pointed out the song he was singing earlier, he listened to it often when he was a younger man. It reminded him of his mother and brother, of sitting at the dinnertable eating warm meals as a family whenever they scrounged up enough money to have the luxury of doing so. The laughter and love they shared, even if things around them were lackluster.

- He details early life in the military, his becoming of a spy and his... Eventual Downfall and capture.

- "One job, I got messy... I wasn't looking where I was going I..." He trailed off. He stopped telling his story and you reached a hand out, resting a hand on his shoulder.

- "Its okay. I get it. You don't need to tell me anymore if it hurts." You reassure, seeing the way he tenses under your pitiful touches.

- "I deserved it." He tried to continue, but you interupted him

- "None of that now. Just shut up and think about the now." You scold, noticing the wide eyes stare Nikto gives you.

- No one has ever told him to shut up before. He felt the heat rise in his cheeks underneath his mask, thank god he was wearing one.

- "Sorry." He muttered, and now you both sat there a bit stunned and quiet. The moment you were experiencing together left the both of your heart's racing, wondering a million things about the other.

- You because you had never seen such a soft, apologetic side of Nikto before, a man with no regrets, no empathy. He seemed so... Human?

- And Nikto because he couldn't believed he was being so soft and apologetic with someone. He always had his walls up. His mental fortress guarded with maximum security at all times. But you caught him when the Vodka- 3/4th a bottle of it that he found stashed in a drawer somewhere in the shack- had him weak, and you didn't take advantage of him. Didn't judge or even really cast much pity towards him. He didn't like being pitied. Fucking hated it actually. But here you were, rubbing his shoulder, which wasn't exactly an *unwelcomed* gesture, and sitting in silence with him. The voices were at bay tonight. Right now. It was just him, or whatever was left of Andre.

- "I used to walk 4 miles to school every morning in the freezing cold, and almost got hit by a pickup truck and stolen by a pack of wolves doing it." He suddenly blurted out, the previously warm vibes of the room returning as Nikto casted the past out of his mind. You were right. He was being too emotional, he should focus on the now.

- And right now, the booze brought him back to fonder memories, ones of childhood mischief and near death experiences.

- You looked at him with wide eyes and couldn't help the burst of laughter that followed, something that Nikto didn't find insulting, in fact, he was smiling too, underneath that mask.

- "You think that's funny, just wait til I tell you where I got my first tattoo..." He chuckled with his thick, russian accent.

- You and Nikto shared stories all night. And never once did Nikto question it, like when you told him you took ballet, or when you ripped your prom dress, or even when you told him about your first boyfriend. He shrugged it off. He wasnt exactly as straight as a board either. And the military exposed him to people from all walks of life.

- Of course, Nikto still thought you were a *man* at this point. A very effeminate acting man, but a man none the less.

- *Time skip ends here SORRY IF U HATED THAT SJSHSK*

- But now Nikto's world was flipped on it's head, as you combed through your mind, you find yourself going back to that silly song he sang. Trying to recall the words.

- "Здравствуйте.... дев-вочки.." you started, cringing at your poor pronouncations of the words and shrilly little singing voice.

- Nikto's eyes widen in recognition, all former sneers and snickers long gone. He wasn't joking anymore, and it seemed you weren't either.

- "Здравствуйте, мальчики..." You continued, your cheeks growing impossibly red, "С-Cмотрите на меня в окно.."

- "That's enough. Stop. Stop it." Nikto demanded, aiming his gun right at you again, "how do you know that? That night?"

- "Cause it's me Nikto! I'm a girl!" You exclaimed, getting annoyed yourself. You practically just performed for the bastard, and now he was still trying to shoot you, just like you figured.

- There was a moment of silence. And Nikto stood there, as if needing to process everything that just happened.

- "Put on the helmet." He demands. And you don't defy him, placing your helmet on, the change in your voice is like night and day,

- "I didn't think it mattered this much, I'm sorry." You said genuinely. Your voice deepened to it usual state, confirming your indentity.

- There a few more moments of silence before Nikto coughs, grabbing your attention. He straightens himself. Lowering his gun and putting the safety back on. There's a sense of embarrassment in his movements, he's tense, and avoiding your eye contact.

- "It...it doesn't matter. We'll just shower tomorrow morning." He says and hurries off. Another vulnerable moment with you, what was wrong with him?! He hated himself right now. For having never realized, and for having threatened you.

- Nikto did hold you in high regards, not that he would ever tell you or another soul. He respected your dedication to the work, and after that night in the cabin, a mutual but unspoken trust was formed bewteen the two of you. You never had a moment like it afterwards. Well. Until now.

- You don't dare go after Nikto in that moment, but you want to. It's late, and if you woke everyone else up and made them aware of the situation, only god knows what would happen. So you shower and head off to bed, replaying senarios in your mind, planning what you'd say to Nikto first thing in the morning.

- Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on how you see it, he beat you to it.

- You were still sleeping when a heavy-handed Knock came to your door, sending you scurrying out of bed for your gear. You reach for your helmet until you hear the voice on the other side.

- "Hey... Its Nikto...let us in, please." He says, his voice gruff and demanding as usual but theres something else there....Pleading? Hoping?

- You freeze, fiddling with your helmet before deciding its not worth it. You quickly move to open the door, making sure noone else is around before ushering Nikto in.

- He takes a moment to look you up and down. You're not wearing any gear now. Just some plaid pajama pants and a white tanktop.

- He sighs, shaking any stray thoughts from his head. "We should talk. About last night." He finally states, and you agree with a simple nod, motioning for him to sit next to you on your bed.

- It feels like last time, except the cards have been flipped, this time, it was your secrets that were being spilled, and Nikto had the questions.

- "Why?" He asked flatly, "why hide your gender?"

- "Why hide your face?" You fire back, rolling your eyes at him like it was obvious, "for privacy, same reason as you, as Krueger. We don't want anyone knowing what we look like, our identities" you said, using another member of the allegiance, Sebastian Krueger, as an example.

- Nikto's eyes dart down in thought, and he nods, "I see."

- Theres more silence, it seems that was a recurring theme between you two, long bouts of silence. Never once did either of you try to force conversation. It came naturally.

- Nikto really appreciated that about you in this moment. It allowed him to get his thoughts straight, arguing with the voices for a bit before he opens his mouth again.

- "No one has to know." He says, like its that simple, and stands up. He starts for the door and you move to follow, a hand on his bicep.

- "Nikto wait- that's it?" You ask, confused, but what did you really expect? Nikto wasn't the type to gossip. If information needed to be gathered and brought back his superiors, he would. But that wasn't what he was asked to do.

- "да, that's it." He said standing the in the doorway with finality.

- He shut the door behind him with a click and you stood there dumbfounded. Did any of that really just happen, or was all of this one big dream you were about to wake from?

- You pinched yourself with a winced and cursed under your breathe. This was reality. Could you really trust Nikto with this secret? Without blackmail? Without shame?

- Apparently, yes. As you would come to find out. In fact, you soon realize that this whole incident only made you and Nikto somehow closer.

- In battles, during tight situations, he was always there. Freeing you from the enemies grasp, carrying you with a bullet wound in your back. He was your personal guard.

- He wasn't being more protective just cause he knew you're a girl, he knew you were deadly. He's seen what you're capable off. No. You come to learn Nikto does this as a display of affection. Subtlety showing his appreciation for keeping his secrets, and in return, he keeps your's, and keeps you alive as well.

- After one particularly long mission, you're walking alongside each other, covered in dirt and grime, heading to the showers as the sun set and everyone heads for bed.

- You two showered together now, of course, broken up by thin curtains. It was a bit intimate, but it was an easier agreement than an already insomnia ridden-Nikto getting up at ungodly hours of the morning to shower.

- As you're walking together you nudge him gently, "good work today. You still fight well for a guy your age." You tease. Nikto knew full well you were hiding a shit eating grin under than helmet of yours, grimacing at you.

- "Yeah, good work to you too... For a girl." He says back venomously, earning him a playful punch.

- "Bastard! Don't be so loud about that!" You scold while whisper-yelling, but Nikto can still hear the smile in your voice. And knows its in jest.

- "It would be a shame if the others knew what a pretty little woman you really were."

- "It would be a shame if the others knew about the smiley face tattoed on your buttcheek."

- Both of your faces are red and concealing mischievous grins. This was you and Nikto's relationship now. Learnings eachothers secrets, and using them to pick on eachother. Playful banter.

- Everyone around base notices what you two are doing...just FUCK already you two... Damn. The tension is killing everyone.

- You and Nikto will probably end up together after a while more of this, its inevitable. You're just unjudgemental enough to deal with his freak, while also being one of the only solider's on base willing to put up with his terrifying, intimidating aura for long periods of time!

- Nikto always kind of liked you, as a man, and even now as a woman. And sharing your secrets only solidified that attraction in his mind. You were his милый, and he would keep you and your secrets safe for as long as he lived.

AHHHH HOLY FUCKING SHIT SORRY IF THE END FEELS RUSHED I TRIED TO CONCLUDE THIS LONG ASS STORY, I DIDN'T REALIZE HOW MUCH YAP I HAD IN ME😳

The song Nikto was humming is Кино - Алюминиевые огурцы, and was inspired by a comment on my post about Russian and Austrian musc left by @weepingmagazinesandwich and once I heard that song I knew I had to use it in a writing piece its just so sweet. The two playlists were made btw I just never publicly posted them (also cause Nikto's list is chronically short, and Krueger's playlist is already almost hours long) so- idk if y'all want those posted but lmk👍 I hope you enjoyed this- whatever you'd call it. Idk what to call the reader in this. Disguised!reader sounds so silly.

I have a sfw agere krueger drabble comin out soon, and I just started writing big chunks of the hubby!gromsko x reader hcs.

#HELP IDK A BETTER NAME FOR THISSS #lexwrites #nikto #nikto x reader #nikto cod #cod

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ogata77 · 8 months ago

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First spoiler chapter 58

The first spoilers for chapter 58 are here and I want to leave you my quick thoughts. I'll start with the cover.

The last image is the new inside cover of chapter 58 and obviously I couldn't help but relate it to these other images. Yoneda usually plays a lot with connections and mirror chapters so I like to hypothesize what he wants to tell us. The first image of chapter 10: "At that time when I was a nobody", shows the moment when a teenage Yashiro is pressured by Misumi to formally join the yakuza. If we continue with the sequence, image 2 corresponds to chapter 31: "Feelings and ambitions intermingle", it is one of the climax moments of the story where they end up accusing Yashiro of the death of a member of the Gouda-gumi. There is a lot of talk about the sakazuki (official yakuza affiliation ceremony), loyalty and it is shown how yakuza groups protect their members in these situations of internal conflict. Finally we have the cover of the next chapter 58: "Emotions are left behind."

All of the above shows us narratively where we are heading in the story at the level of the yakuza (my favorite). Yashiro never wanted to join the yakuza out of necessity, he did it as a sacrifice to help Kageyama (I hope one day he finds out) and throughout his life he has shamelessly shown that he has never truly felt like a yakuza. When the first arc ends and Yashiro loses leadership as wakagashira of his group, "the" opportunity is created to distance himself from the yakuza. Misumi pressures him again and again to work directly with him again but so far he has dodged it with grace and elegance as only he knows how. Until that moment everything was working for Yashiro, he was still like a living dead, but he was half a body away from the yakuza until Doumeki enters the equation again. The cover of the new chapter says that emotions are left behind but will Yashiro be able to leave his emotions behind when it comes to protecting Doumeki? Precisely in the last chapters Yoneda has shown us how they have been gradually resolving their prejudices and emotions but now it is time to return to reality, we are at the beginning of another yakuza conflict.

On the other hand, I cannot fail to mention the visual narrative of the covers. Chapter 10 and 58 are a mirror, both Yashiros look at this little sparrow that represents the difficult decision to be in the yakuza, it is incredibly sublime. And the intermediate scene that has so much to say, Yashiro, unlike the other images, is standing, which means to me that he feels in a more empowered position, and let's add the details of the rain and the umbrella.

I couldn't leave aside the symbolism of these two elements. The rain has always been another character in saezuru, a symbol of pain, sadness, loss and its counterpoint the umbrella that protects me from everything. There are so many memorable scenes with these two elements to name a few: when Yashiro brings the umbrella to Aoi (Doumeki's sister) to protect her from her feelings for Doumeki because it reminds her of when he loved Kageyama, when Yashiro looks at a mother from the car protecting his son, a feeling that he had never felt (this is very sad, Yashiro is a survivor), the past and recent scenes where Doumeki protects Yashiro (for more information you can read aiaigasa). There is so much to remember and analyze that saezuru readers can, without exaggeration, read the story 100 times and find something new.

To finish, I think that for Yashiro and Doumeki it is time to decide whether or not they are going to officially be part of their groups with the advantages and risks that this entails. If you've read this far, I sincerely thank you for your interest in my ramblings and if there are problems in the text, you know, it's Google translator's fault hahahaha.

#saezuru tori wa habatakanai #yashiro and doumeki in love #saezuru #saezuru analysis #saezuru spoilers #saezuru feels #saezuru fandom

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thyln4gf · 1 year ago

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Light me up

✞ You, a well known rockstar. Your boyfriend, the golden boy of F1. Its a constant "battle" of "who's gonna have more of their fans turn to the 'other side?'"

✞ I have synesthesia! Here's 5 songs that I associate with this fic: "Light me up" - The Pretty Reckless, "Scarlet cross" - Black Veil Brides, "Scars" - Papa Roach, "honey (are u coming?)" & "baby said" - Måneskin.

✞ Warnings: Suggestive comments and pictures, fluffy relationship shite, cursing, google translate (italian). SMAU.

✞ Charles x rockstar!reader

✞ Face Claim - Taylor Momsen (The Pretty Reckless)

theprettyreckless

liked by yourusername, markdamonbass, charles_leclerc and others !

theprettyreckless: AND THAT'S A WRAP! Thank you, Montreal, for being so welcoming. Three cheers for this sweet, sweet tour. And to many more in the future. À la prochaine, mes chéris.

tagged; yourusername, markdamonbass, oneguitartorulethemall, cptncvmn

yourusername: LETSFUCKINGGOOOO

yourbsf1: you were crying about this to me on facetime for half an hour. Then while picking the photos for the post. Then writing the caption.

yourusername: exposing me? Just like that? Bro... :(

yourbsf1: L

yourbsf2: #exposingy/nera

username1: I CAN SEE MY HAND!!! #famousera

username2: y/n's mic stand wasn't the only thing whose straightness has been broken tonight (liked by yourusername)

username3: yo... leclerc in the likes👀

username4: holy shit??? You're right

username6: calm down, y/n is friends with Damiano. Charles probably just likes her band too!

username5: who the hell is leclerc???

username7: what rock have all of you been living under? They have been together for years.

damianodavid: onorato che tu ci abbia portato in tour con te! Un sacco d'amore❤️(liked by yourusername, theprettyreckless, maneskinofficial)

yourusername: Grazie🫶

carlossainz55: 🖤 (liked by yourusername)

username8: ariana... what are you doing here??

username9: what the fuck

username10: Charles got too nervous and asked Carlos to comment something methinks (liked by carlossainz55, yourusername)

yourusername

liked by yourbsf1, danielricciardo, vicdeangelis and others !

yourusername: life recently: post tour edition. The depression is hitting HARD. #noonetalktomeimturningemo

yourbsf2: mommy?? (liked by yourusername)

yourusername: not here, kitten whiskers...

yourbsf2: but...☹️

yourbsf1: get a ROOM. Jesus....

charles_leclerc: right? I agree. (liked by yourusername)

yourusername: 😇

yourbsf2: i saw her take that shirt off, and y'all did not🧚

charles_leclerc: @/yourusername ???

yourusername: uhhh.... 🏃‍♀️💨

username11: you just made eggs look tasty

username12: FUUUUCK them eggs. Have you seen the last slide??

username13: THE LAST PHOTO??? MOTHER.

username14: I don't know what to be jealous of first - her tits, the food, or the fact that she got some good dick IN the car... (liked by yourusername)

username15: im fine!! This is fine!!!

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, pierregasly and others !

charles_leclerc: sk8er boiii

tagged; yourusername

yourusername: B) im so cool bro

charles_leclerc: you cried when the cat decided to leave your lap.

yourusername: :,( bro...

yourbsf1: yeah bro!!!

charles_leclerc: I'm not sorry.

charles_leclerc: waitwaitwait @/yourusername WHY IS SHE CALLING ME.

yourusername: 😇

charles_leclerc: Y/N L/N

yourusername: neither of us is a punk OR does ballet tho... (liked by charles_leclerc)

username16: emo Charles era when?? (liked by yourusername)

yourusername: @/charles_leclerc !!!

username16: OHMYGODJDJDJ???

scuderiaferrari: 😎 (liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername)

yourusername uploaded a story:

(Caption: 🖤)

yourusername uploaded a story:

(caption1: 👀👀) (caption2: oops.)

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, mariabrinkofficial and others !

yourusername: datenightdatenightdatenightdatenightdateni-

tagged; charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc: couldn't you have taken any longer?🙄 (liked by yourusername)

yourusername: darling... you fell asleep.

charles_leclerc: i was resting my eyes!

yourusername: you snored. I have a picture of you drooling. (liked by yourbsf1, yourbsf2, landonorris)

landonorris: can confirm

charles_leclerc: Y/N??

vicdeangelis: bellissima! (liked by yourusername, damianodavid)

yourusername: fermare! Sto arrossendo🫠

charles_leclerc: sono d'accordo. (liked by yourusername, vicdeangelis)

yourbsf2: @/charles_leclerc I'll have you know that y/n is currently dying. Send her exactly what you just typed out, just in the form of a voice message, to save her. Quick! (liked by yourusername)

lewishamilton: this is empowering and all, but there are children on this app. (Lando) (liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, danielricciardo)

landonorris: right. Smh, mother. Do better🙄 (liked by yourusername, danielricciardo)

username17: AYO???

username18: im not okay. Im not fine. WHAT????

username19: the handprints were def made by charles... lucky bastard. (liked by yourusername)

username20: the last slide... does that mean exactly what i think it does?

username21: oh it definitely does.

username22: the sexual tension between me, the fork, and the toaster right now...

username23: the final boss WAG

username24: i'd call y/n the best wag ever, but she's kinda the main character here...

yourusername uploaded a story:

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #f1 fanart #formula one fanart #fanfiction #formula one fanfics #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanart #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc one shot #oneshot #smau #f1 smau

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theressaicon · 10 days ago

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m!Alien x gn!reader part 1

Made out story about gn!reader living with an extraterrestrial after it's not safe anymore to live on Earth. Gradually, they get to know each other's races and become closer...Make time to read the whole story, it is quite long.

It's interesting to realize that you're an endangered specie. It's incredible how 8.2 billion people have become four thousand individuals.

It lasted 2 years. There was an electric charge in the air with radioactive radiation that shook the atmosphere so intensely that it caused the worst diseases in most people, leading to deaths.

The government had already admitted the existence of aliens a few years ago, it wasn't a new topic. Although as a civilian you didn't have enough information... So you were quite confused when they took you to a constructed platform with inhuman machines.

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„What happens to the animals?" A little elementary school boy asked you while holding your hand. „The animals from Earth are already loaded onto the big ships that will be taking off." you explained, trying to stay as calm as possible.

The machines around you were silent, the only noise being the human voices of the group you stood in. „And when will we take off?" he questioned again. „When they tell us, they'll take us to one of those ships too. I don't know when that will be."

Tall figures in armor marched from station to station, chattering in a language you didn't know. You couldn't see a bit of their skin, they looked more like androids. Their protective suits were white with black parts. They reminded you a bit of Ironman's suit in terms of design.

A huge flying disc, emitting purple light, flew over the group of people you were standing in. It was once again silent, but its majestic appearance left everyone speechless.

You were sitting on the ground, some were having a conversation, others were quiet. The little boy played with your fingers while telling you about his interests, which helped you think about anything other than the fear of leaving the planet.

„...but the Mosasaurus is the biggest, that's why I like it the most! I have a lot of toys at home and I have about three mosasauruses. I got one for Christmas and my mom and dad bought me the other two." „Wow, you have good knowledge!" You praised him.

You were never drawn to children, but when they put you in this group and he was the only little child there, you wanted to keep an eye on him.

"I wonder where they are now. I haven't seen them in a long time." Your face turned a little sad because you knew the truth, but you didn't have the heart to tell him. "But I'm sure they're okay! Dad always protected mom and me, he'll take care of her." he said optimistically and you had to hide the tear that started to flow down your face.

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„Group twelve, the ship is ready, I ask you to follow me." A robotic voice, sounding similar to Google Translate, came from the helmet of a tall, armored extraterrestrial. The conversations fell silent and everyone followed him (?).

The large gate led into a massive extraterrestrial spacecraft that must have been at least half a mile squared. „I beg for your attention, humans." the translatoric voice began.

„You are one of the last humans in the universe, we cannot afford any losses." Another figure pointed to a device they were holding in their hand. „You will be marked with this device before you board." The group began to chatter in disbelief again, before they were silenced. „It's painless, it works similarly to a human barcode."

They shone the device on the back of our necks and a tattoo with strange symbols appeared there. They weren't lying when they said it was painless. You looked back at the landscape of your home planet for the last time. You tried to soak up the image of green trees in the distance that you might never see again in your life.

When the gate closed, a wave of mixed emotions swept over you. You suddenly realized how lost everything was and how afraid you were of the unknown. You didn't know what was waiting for you. All you knew was that the extraterrestrial community was evacuating the few people left, including you.

After you boarded the ship, they planned to put you in individual pods for who knows how long. Before leaving, the little boy waved goodbye to you. That was the last time you saw him.

The last thing you remember is being given a small capsule that you swallowed. And then emptiness. Nothing, just a blank mind. At least for the moment, those unbearable emotions left you.

✣⊻⋋≬⊑⊱✣⊻⋋≬⊑⊱✣⊻⋋≬⊑⊱✣⊻⋋≬⊑⊱✣⊻⋋

'Is that light?' you asked yourself. A gentle voice spoke to you in an unknown language. Their tone was reminiscent of a person greeting their cat after returning from work.

When your eyes started to function properly, you saw a tall being in a white uniform and a light in her hand, that had three long fingers. You assumed it was a woman. She must have been examining your condition after you woke up. She had dark blue skin with white dots around her ear area, however she didn't have any earlobes.

She played a recording from a player in her other hand announcing that you had arrived at the location. „Before disembarking, I will ask you to consume this." it continued as the woman handed you a plate with a funny looking white puree. It didn't look appealing.

But for some reason you were terribly hungry, so you ate the food, even though it didn't taste nicely.

Without further explanation, she led you to a small, colorless room with only a strange chair. When the automatic door closed behind you, you felt the room move with you, it seemed like it was used for transportation.

You sat there for a long time, your only companions being your thoughts. You had so many questions that you didn't know the answers to, maybe you didn't even want to know them.

It seemed like an hour, you were bored and anxious. You explored the entire room, hoping to find a button, something, anything, even just a discarded hair tie, to keep yourself busy and distracted. However, you ended up huddled in the corner of the room, where your eyelids started to droop again.

Before you could fall asleep, the automatic door across from you opened. It signaled you to go outside of it, but something inside you prevented you from doing so, the room was safe after all.

You stayed in that corner for a moment before you gathered your courage and stood up. The path led to a white hall, where there was nothing. You finally got to the end of it and waited to see what would happen next.

Sensors appeared from the ceiling and walls, scanning you with red light. It made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Another door opened in front of you, leading to a room with a high ceiling.

The room was no longer lacking colors. The space reminded you of a dining room thanks to the square table in the middle that looked like it was made of acrylic or a similar material to a bathtub.

A tall extraterrestrial walked in from another room. Very tall. Taller than the figures who helped you board. No wonder the place had such high ceilings.

Their size scared you a little and you took a step back. They squatted down and smiled as they showed you two small devices. They had placed one of them where their earlobe would probably be, but instead they only had a hole like a reptile.

The second one was handed to you. You understood that you were supposed to put it on too. When you placed it behind your ear, it gently installed itself. You silently looked back at the 'person' who had given it to you.

„Greetings." He said invitingly in a male voice that sounded more human and not like a cheap translator. You stood there in front of him with your eyes wide open. „Heh, could I ask you to say something? I need to see if the translators are working." With a swallow you answered him. „Uh yeah, sorry."

„Wonderful! I'm glad that there won't be any language problems in communication." What a cheerful alien. Even though the alien here was you. You didn't know what to call his race, so you stuck with that term. He stood up and placed his hand on your back to guide you.

„Come on, let's sit in the living room, it'll be more comfortable there. I'm sure you have a lot of questions, you can ask me anything without shame." He sounded so excited.

The next room truly looked like a living room, just in a modern style. What caught your attention the most was the huge stylish couch that was the same color as his skin. The color was a pale blue to grayish, and somehow it had a calming effect on you.

It took you a little while to climb onto the couch next to him, after all, it was made for his size. „Well? You can ask ahead now." hr reminded you. „What now?" The smile on his face dropped a little as you continued. „What will happen with me now?"

When he finally understood your question, he started smiling widely again. „Of course, so... We cannot have your species in one place, each individual will be distributed across half of this planet individually to different homes, where we will take care of you until your reservation is complete."

Gulping, you stared at him like he was talking without a translator. „Reservation?" „Mhm, a place where we'll let you evolve for a few more hundred years so you can finally join our community."

„Um.. That sounds like you're treating us like rabbits." Ah, forgive me, but my translator doesn't know the word 'rabbit' because it has nothing to associate it with, in other words, this term doesn't exist in our language." Don't they know rabbits? Well, you should have expected that they wouldn't have the same animals here as on Earth.

„However... You can compare it to children treating. We just have to let you grow up, let you take your first steps. We can only interfere with that slightly. But the disaster on Earth spoiled our plans a little." His comparison didn't sound so bad anymore, you accepted it.

„So I'm going to live here with you now?" you guessed out loud. „Temporarily, until they relocate you" he replied. You were swaying in place with nervousness. Despite the explanation, you were still feeling uneasy by the whole situation.

„Hey, don't worry, I've read a few books about humans, I know the necessary things, I'll take a good care of you, you can trust me." You licked your dry lips and mumbled. „I think I need some peace and quiet now, I feel.. overwhelmed." „I understand. Can I perhaps show you your room?" he offered and you simply nodded.

It was a spacious apartment, you noticed a lot of differences from a apartment you considered normal. Besides the high ceilings and strange furniture, you noticed that none of the rooms were separated by doors. You wondered why, so you asked him.

"And why do YOU have doors?" he asked you back. "Well, for privacy and... security." "You're not in any danger here, and as far as privacy goes, I'll give you as much space as you need." His kindness relaxed you more and more.

You reached the room where there was a huge round bed with a blanket and a large pillow with interesting patterns on it. Spiral decorative formations resembling plants hung from the ceiling, and on one side was something like a wardrobe you assumed. Although it was still unfamiliar, it was the least alien room you had been in all day.

„It's all yours here, if you want to add anything, just say so. I want you to feel comfortable here." You took a deep breath and exhaled. "Thank you... for being considerate." „Of course, don't mention it. I'll leave you alone here, you can even fall asleep. If you need anything, you can find me in the room opposite yours, it's my room. Also, feel free to wander around if you'd feel like it. You're not here as a visitor, we're more like roommates now."

He was about to leave before you asked him the last question. „How should I call you?" „My name is Lissinlaciss, but you can call me by a shorter nickname... Like Lissin or Laciss, it's up to you, I'll answer on both."

Nodding, you told him your name in return. Before he left, he reminded you to take off the translator so it doesn't bother you in your sleep. Then he gently tapped twice on the wall and the light in your room went out. After you took off your translator you lay under the blanket, which was unexpectedly heavy, but pleasant to the touch. The pillow was fluffy and the mattress soft. Your whole body relaxed and even though you were afraid of the future, you really felt safe.

✣⊻⋋≬⊑⊱✣⊻⋋≬⊑⊱✣⊻⋋≬⊑⊱✣⊻⋋≬⊑⊱✣⊻⋋

Despite your constant efforts, you couldn't fall asleep. Was it the new environment? Was it the light coming from the hallway and the room opposite? But that would be absurd, you couldn't fall asleep in your own home without a night light.

Your goal was to get some rest and organize your thoughts, which you did. So you decided to climb out of the bed and check your surroundings.

You went to look in the room at the end of the hall. It was dark, so you tried tapping on the wall like... he did. Damn, you forgot his name. The tapping worked, the lights actually came on. You assumed it was the bathroom.

It was a little unusual, but the toilet looked... like a toilet. At least something. There was no toilet paper in sight, you'll have to ask him about that.

On your way back, you peeked into the room where your tall pale blue roommate was supposed to be. And there he was. He was sitting in something designly similar to a dentist's chair. He was looking at some hologram and making strange gestures with his hands, maybe that was how he controlled it. You didn't need anything yet, so you continued exploring.

You walked through the living room to the dinning room, where you first appeared. Those were all the rooms that were here. Where was a kitchen in that case? Is it possible that he has his meals imported? You wanted to test if tapping on the wall worked for all the lights. And yes, the lights did indeed turn off and after another tapping you turned them back on.

'Interesting', you thought. What if you tapped somewhere else? Maybe on the floor? You knelt down and did it. A lot of things started to emerge from the walls, including kitchen utensils... Knives, spoons, weird shaped frying pans, probably a teapot and so on.

It startled you a bit, you started tapping on the floor again to make it all hide again. It stressed you out when a lot more things started to appear. You stood up in panic and grabbed your head. „No, no, no, no!!.."

You turned around with the plan to tell the alien, but instead you saw him standing where the door would normally be. Giggling, he observed you with amusement.

You flinched when you heard his suddenly deep voice in another language. You touched your translator in confusion, thinking it wasn't working... But it wasn't there! You forgot to put it back to your ear when you got out of bed. You glanced up at him only to see him handing it to you. Damn that's a bit embarrassing.

When you finally put it on, he repeated what he said, this time in that sweet human voice. „Is there anything I can help you with, Y/N?~" his tone teasing. You stammered as you described to him what you were doing.

„Nothing's wrong, don't worry. Come on, I'll show you how to hide it." You two walked over to the kitchen counter and he ran one finger over its surface twice. Then it all got into it's original place. „I assume you have it a little different on Earth, am I right?" Lissinlaciss asked.

„We have to control it manually... Do all apartments have this type of controling? Like the tapping and... you know." „Everyone has it set up a little differently, but almost everyone use the same technology."

You stood there in silence for a moment until he decided to speak. "I need to finish something, if you wait a moment, I'll get to you right away." You didn't want to be a burden, so you protested that you would just go back to your room. "No, no, we'll have to buy you some clothes anyway, what you're wearing might attract too much attention. You can come with me, I'll show you my room."

After the incident in the kitchen/dinning room, you preferred to avoid touching anything, including walls, not wanting to accidentally trigger something again. Lissinlaciss sat you down on his bed with the same blanket and pillow as yours.

You scanned him as he sat in that strange chair again, gesticulating with his hands. On the hologram in front of his face, it looked like he was writing, only it was in a slightly irregular style; not left to right, not right to left, not bottom to top, or vice versa. You couldn't understand the system.

After a moment, he sighed and turned off the device by tapping it twice again. "I was sending an administrative message saying you arrived safely." he explained to you. „I see." „..." „..."

„..Okay, let's go pick out some clothes for you." And with that you reached a wall, which he placed the back of his hand against, and the wall disappeared pixel by pixel. You couldn't help but be surprised yet amazed. When you went out into the hallway, the wall appeared again behind you.

You stepped onto a platform that took you three floors down. You passed through a gate and saw a street where various creatures were moving. Some were similar to Lissinlaciss, others were completely different in shape and color.

Your translator was able to translate everything you heard. The speech didn't match the movements of their mouths, but you understood their conversations. The path was made out of the same material as the floor in Lissin's apartment. That is, Lissin's and yours. You couldn't avoid the looks from the other people, but they didn't look at you with disgust, just interest. Despite their curiosity, they quickly minded their own businesses.

„There is no need to be nervous, Y/N. I read that your race is very judgmental, you won't find much of that here." He told you, noticing your stiffness. With that, your anxiousness faded away.

Lissin walked slowly so you'd keep up with him, considering that you were half his size. The street you were walking on didn't have the racket you were used to in your city. It was a pleasant change.

After a few minutes of walking he says; „They make custom clothes here, there are more shops, but I doubt they'd have anything in your size." Without your response, you walked inside and were immediately greeted by a woman of the same species as him. Slightly shorter, her skin with a darker blue yet stile pale to grayish. „Lissin, greetings! What can I do for you?" 'Right, his name is Lissin- something.' you said to yourself hoping to remember his name this time.

„Hello, Misxi'de, I'm here today with a new being who needs something to wear, I thought you would be the best choice." Lissin announced back, pointing at your small form. Waving, she smiled at you, squealing with joy.

„Would it be inappropriate to say you are adorable???" It was hard for her to hold back screams. „Um.." You've somehow lost your words. „Come on, I'll measure you." She stated as she stood up and motioned for you to follow her. Lissin walked beside you for your comfort.

She stood you on a line etched into the floor. You expected her to pull out a tape measure, but instead, a light began to flicker from the line below you. "Done, you can go sit down." She said calmly and went into the next room.

Lissin watched you try to climb onto a chair in the waiting room. Although it was comical, he held back his laughter and, with your permission, picked you up to help you sit on it. „Thanks." You mumbled ashamed.

"I'll get you some stools for our apartment so you don't have these problems at home." He smiled at you and put on a bracelet with strings attached to the pads of his fingers.

You were very inattentive today and only now did you realize that Lissin has seven fingers. Light shone from the strings, forming a hologram above his open palm. With gentle movements of his fingers, he controlled what was displayed on it.

A white stool in 3D began to be projected, which he gradually rotated. „What about this one? It doesn't look bad." Then he showed another one, a dark one with various ornaments. „This one is also stylish." He glanced at your shocked face. "You probably don't know this device either, do you..." You looked away from the hologram and answered. "I only know touch devices, we call them phones. Or we use computers..." You chatted while Lissin projected different stools on the hologram. "I know the term 'computer', it's used in travel devices like flying discs."

You liked a pale blue stool that was shown after a while. "I like this one." you admitted, pointing at it. "It would go well with your apartment in terms of color." "You're right, it would go well with OUR apartment." He corrected you. "Right..."

At that moment, the tall woman, Misxi'de, came back and told you to go see her again. Misxi'de pushed back the collar of your shirt a little and placed a small round button on your chest. You had no idea how it stuck to you, almost like a magnet on a fridge, but you almost didn't feel it, it didn't hurt.

„I ask you to go to the cabin and take off your clothes." Your cheeks turned red. „A-all of my clothes?" you asked, unsure. „Of course, when you're naked, you'll press the button on your chest and it will starts to project on your body how new clothes would fit you.

You crawled into the cabin and did everything as instructed. The hologram on you was not even recognizable, you just didn't feel any substance on you. You slowly showed up with clenched fists, still feeling uncomfortable without the feel of your clothes. It showed how you would look like wearing something similar to a tent dress.

They observed you curiously and nodded their heads. "Yeah, it suits them, it doesn't even need any adjustments." She said and Lissin agreed with her opinion. "Please press the button again so we can see another." She continued and you obeyed.

There was no glitch between the projection changes, you breathed a sigh of relief. Now it was showing a sleeveless chest covering with pants that looked like they were made of plastic. You looked at yourself in disgust and Lissin commented. „Looks like you don't like this one.." Misxi'de turned to him. „And you do!? Boy, I thought you had a little bit of sense of style!" „Heyy..." „Next one!" You pressed the button again.

This time it looked identical to the type of clothes Lissin was wearing; a collar over the shoulders covering the chest and a long loincloth reaching down to the floor. You felt a little too exposed for your taste, but it suited you.

„Ooo now that's what I'm talking about!" Cheered Misx'de at the sight of you. Lissin on the other hand wasn't saying a thing. He just stared at you, lips slightly parted, mesmerized. She snapped her fingers in front of his eyes to get a reaction. „Ah, yes... This one is good." He stated and scratched the back of his neck.

„Good?? They look stunning!" She corrected him and turned her attention back to you. „What about you, how do you like this style, dear?" You swallowed and looked at yourself again. „Well, it's a bit revealing, however I saw a few people in it on the way here, so I have nothing to be ashamed of. I like it."

„I'm SO glad you like our cultural clothing!" Misx'de blurted out. So that was the reason why this clothing was so common... It's quite possible that you'll fit in better because of it. You chose more different outfits together and then Misx'de... went to make them for you? You didn't know if a machine 'sewed' them or she did, but that didn't matter.

You two thanked her for her services and she wished you a pleasant stay on their planet. 'What a kind extraterrestrial.' you thought for yourself as you walked out of the store with the identical clothing Lissin had.

The looks from passersby were smiling, and even though you were showing more skin than you were used to, you weren't worried at all.

You walked back to the building you had your apartment in. Inside, you met a gentleman of a different race than Lissin. „Good afternoon, Lissinlaciss, where are you coming from?" the red skinned alien with white dots all over his body asked. Lissin exclaimed an answer.

„We were just at Misx'de's, choosing new clothes for Y/N." The red one, as tall as Lissin, lowered his gaze and looked at you. „Ahh, you must be the human Laciss wouldn't shut up about! I wondered how you'd look like." You glanced at Lissin for a moment and noticed him looking away.

„Anyway, my name's Bah'rah, nice to meet you, lil human." He put the back of his hand to you. It was a strange action, you didn't know what to do or how to react, so you gently squeezed his four-fingered hand and shook it.

The two of them looked at you in silence for a moment, and then Bah'rah burst out laughing. You felt a little embarrassed, but then Lissin placed his hand on your shoulder. „Sorry, I probably should have taught you some basics, but don't worry, we'll catch up to that together."

When Bah'rah finally stopped laughing, he wiped his tear and grabbed your hand. „Look, like this;" He placed the backs of your hands together. „Ah, I see... apologies I didn't know." you admitted and laughed nervously. „Naah, you had no way to find out, that's totally fine!"

After the boys did the same, you said your goodbyes. When the platform took you to the third floor and you came to the wall with a strange mark on it, Lissin drew a cross on the wall with one finger and finally placed the back of his hand on the wall. The wall disappeared pixel by pixel and you walked inside before it reappeared once again.

Lissin handed you the bag with your new clothes and went with you to your room where he showed you how the wardrobe works.

„Nothing complicated, you just draw a tiny circle onto the surface. Go ahead and try." You walked closer and made that little circle on the wardrobe with your index finger. A short high-pitched sound was heard and the wardrobe opened in the same way as an automatic doors in supermarkets would. After tiding up your clothes, all you had to do was press the display inside it at your face level to close the wardrobe again.

He awkwardly asked you if you were hungry, to which you admitted that you were a little. It was almost dinner time, so he suggested that he'll prepare the food while you clean yourself up.

The shower in the bathroom worked differently than you were used to. He stood you in the middle and showed you how to control everything. Instead of water, your body would be covered in mist, which would then evaporate.

„Then you walk over here and place your palm on this touchpad. Warm air will blow on you, which will dry you. But don't worry, it won't be too hot. It will stop by itself when you're dry, and then you can put on the clothes you have over there." „I think I understand."

„Okay, I'll make dinner. If you need anything, shout, I'm sure I'll hear you since there's no door. But fear not, I won't come here unless you call." You smiled in confidence and he then walked away, leaving you to the mercy of the bathroom.

You undressed and placed both palms on the wall next to you. A mist began to appear, clinging only to one part reserved for the shower. The mist was getting into your mouth and eyes, which bothered you a bit, Lissin probably didn't have a problem with this considering he was twice your size.

After about two minutes, the mist returned to where it came from and you touched the touchpad for it to dry you. The warm air felt so nice on your body, you almost didn't want to leave. But then it stopped and you were forced to go get dressed.

The dining room turned into the kitchen, where Lissin was preparing the promised meal. He wrapped a mixture of various plants, probably vegetables, into a transparent dough, which was then pressed out by an automatic machine. In the end, it looked like a fresh spring roll that was half a meter long.

„It looks delicious." you announced, startling him slightly. „O-oh... Thank you, I hope you'll like the taste as well." You noticed two soft balloons that were part of the floor placed by the table.

„You can sit on one of the damig'hen" He said the strange word in a deeper voice. Your translator probably didn't have a suitable translation for it. It sounded slightly creepy in his own voice, but you shrugged it off snd sat on one of the balloons and tried to repeat its name.

„Damn..ing.. han.?" you repeated in a low whisper. „Ah, did it not translate?" „...No." „I was talking about those white things, although you understood well." Lissin cut the roll in half and put each on the table for the both of you. Without plates. Without cutlery.

„Ahh, I'm not sure I'll eat it all, there's a lot of it." you confessed at the sight of the portion. „That's fine, eat as much as you want, no need to overeat yourself."

You both waited for the other to start eating. You sacrificed yourself and started. Grabbed the roll in both hands you bit into its edge. Your eyes lit up at the delicious taste. „Oh my gosh- I have no idea what it is but this is the most delicious food I have ever tried! Fuck..."

Lissin was shocked and silent for a moment. „F-fuck??" he repeated in question. „OH- I'm sorry, forgive me, I shouldn't have cursed..." guild and shame washed over you. „No! No, no, Y/N, that is absolutely okay, I curse as well! It's just... that I have never heard someone use coitus as a curse word before."

Was he serious?

„Oh crumbs... Still, it was inappropriate. I apologize." „Worry not." Then you started to eat again. The thing troubling you was that Lissin was still having his eyes glued on you. 'A bit disturbing' you thought. „Are you not going to eat?" you decided to ask. „...I am." Chewing another piece, you stared back at him.

Lissin shifted in his seat petitely. His body language showed discomfort. It was strange to think so, but it seemed like he didn't want to eat his food in front of you. You put your roll back on the table. "Are you done eating? Already? Won't you be hungry?" Lissin asked worriedly. "I'll start eating when you start."

Now his eyes were fixed on the portion in front of him. "My race doesn't eat like yours." He mumbled. "I just don't want you to feel... well... I don't want you to lose your appetite." He admitted defeatedly. You didn't understand his concerns.

„Are you really that uncomfortable eating in front of me? ...Would it help if I went to eat somewhere else?" „WAIT NO! That would be SO rude from my side- No. No please don't." He raised his voice in fear of you leaving. „Well unless it's you who wishes to do so." Lissin added.

„Enlighten me then." you told him confidently. After gulping, he started looking in your direction again. „Humans use... their mouths for various activities." You gave him a side eye for starting a sentence like that. „...By that I mean breathing, previously used as self-defense, taking in water and.. food." „Mhm.. right." „Did I miss something?" „Nahh..." you lied.

„Meanwhile innyli'sez, my race, uses upper mouth just for breathing." „Okay, I understand that so far." You tried to keep your attention on Lissin, despite the urge to dig into that delicious roll again.

„I guess it would be better.. and easier- if I just showed you..." He straightened his back and knelt on the pillow balloon beneath him to raise himself a little higher. The edge of the table was at the level of his lower abdomen.

The straight line that was carved horizontally into his stomach began to open up. You had noticed the line before, but you didn’t want to mention it for fear it would be a sensitive subject for him. „..I thought it was a scar?" His stomach opened up completely and teeth started to protrude.

„Didn't you notice when we were outside that all of my race had this?" He asked confused. „You see, I was just looking at the ground out of nervousness. Not at people around." You were fascinated by his open toothy organ and leaned in to get a better look.

„Aren't you disgusted? Aren't you afraid?" Lissin carried mixed feelings. „Actually, no... I find it cool." Relaxation crept over him at your positive words. You sat back down in your seat and continued eating your dinner.

„Okaaay, now we can eat together, so bon appetite." you stated. With a warm smile he moved the roll to his lower mouth and started eating too.

With a giant mouth like his, it was clear that he would finish it first, even though he started eating after you. And when you said you probably wouldn't eat it all, you were right. You had a lot left, but you were full and satisfied. He had the rest of the roll preserved with another kitchen gadget that you also didn't know how it's being used.

✣⊻⋋≬⊑⊱✣⊻⋋≬⊑⊱✣⊻⋋≬⊑⊱✣⊻⋋≬⊑⊱✣⊻⋋

Lissin also used the shower and showed up in a cloth that was white, like most of his clothes. He noticed before you did, how you started to yawn. „Let's go to sleep, what do you say?" He offered. „Is it dark outside already?" you asked. „Well, here the planet is never completely turned away from the star, and there is almost never light on the opposite sides of the planet."

„So there are no windows in the apartments here so you can sleep well at night?" „That may be one of the reasons." He walked you to your room and instead of tapping the wall twice to turn on the lights, he began to gently drum on it repeatedly with all seven fingers, resembling raindrops. Your room began to glow with a faint orange light. "That's nice..." you faintly said. "I figured the warm light would be more bearable for your eyes."

You crawled under the covers and yawned again. „I hope I can sleep this time, I couldn't this afternoon." Lissin knelt by your bed and leaned on one hand for support. „I'm not surprised you didn't fall asleep, as you slept the entire way here, which took 13 kar'jevics." The translator couldn't find a suitable translation again and his original voice rang in your ears again. „Umm... how much is 13.. kar- that thing?" „Let me calculate... Hmm, yeah.. Something around two months."

„WHAT!??!" „...What?"

„I thought I slept for like... a day! How could I sleep for two whole months!?" You didn't expect this information before going to bed. „Well, it wasn't two whole months... More like 55 days or so." „That's not any better!" you argued.

„You know what? I have an idea." Lissin stood up and came to the center of the room. He stomped his foot on the floor four times and a strange sound began to echo from all corners of the room. It scratched your brain so well- It was way better than a white noise.

Your body completely shut down and you closed your eyes due to the heavy eyelids. Lissin gently and carefully removed your translator from your ear and turned off the light. Before he left, you heard him say something in his own language in a weak voice. With the last of your strength, you opened your mouth and whispered "Good night to you too." He chuckled because you were perfectly right with your answer, because he indeed wished you 'good night.'

Illustration of your first meeting :3

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lefetfritos · 11 months ago

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to many g-men

#gonna try and tag all of them with their source material from left to right LMAO #freemans mind #half life but its google translated #hlvrai #half life #half life swap au #gordon freemercy #gorgeous freeman #g-man #many. g-men.#and g-woman technically

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mickriccenergy · 5 months ago

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Shiver

Chapter Seven - La Douleur Exquise

the exquisite pain of the feeling of wanting someone that you know you can never have, and knowing that you still want to be with them.

♡ Mick Schumacher x Reader, Best friend!Danny Ricc x reader

♡ TW: Swearing, inaccurate timeline of F1/F2/F3, badly translated German using Google, alcohol consumption, talking about being drunk, uhhhh there are really none in this chapter?? none really glaring ones at least. angst, self doubt, anxiety, etc. not proofread

♡ She/Her pronouns are used, nothing descriptive about reader except that her hair is long enough to pull back into a ponytail or braid, no reader insert, timeline skips. ALSO: WARNING!!!! I will barely be mentioning Michael Schumacher. I do not presume to know what he is thinking, or would say in these fictional scenarios. I am trying to be respectful of their privacy and not make any assumptions!!!!!! He will be mentioned here and there, but I do not believe any dialogue will be associated with him. If you do not like that, then do not read it. :)

♡ 4.8k words

♡A/N: After some very intense and long chapters, I just wanted something softer and lighter. Of course, there is still substance, but i really enjoyed this chapter! Sorry it’s late. I’ve been working six days a week and i was just too exhausted yesterday. * Posted on mobile, will format on my laptop later

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There were few times in your life that you could remember that you were truly at peace with yourself and your surroundings. It seldom came with your own home life, but instead with your lifelong friend. Your memories were all askew and your thoughts could hardly keep up to the present, but there was a certain familiarity to the person who took you in, and vowed to protect you.

In fact, that person had always been there for you. From the first time you showed up to their house with a black eye, to the last time they saw you beaten and broken so much so that the only thing you could do was shelter in the safety of their own mind. And even then, you were brutalized by the sport you dedicated your life to. In such a manner, that you were forgetful of all the things you accomplished and could accomplish on your own. You were reliant on one person, and that one person’s memories of you. Yet, every morning since as you woke, you pondered the thought of thinking the same things too. They were kind, gentle, and patient with you. They were all of the things you were not, nonetheless fitting seamlessly with your spirit and fortitude.

Still, in the silence of the home you didn’t know, you awaited their arrival like a shark waiting to stake its claim.

It wasn’t a lie though. You were tired. You were exhausted. These last few days absolutely drained you and made you feel like even less than half of the person you were before you had left the hospital. You had to have help just making a stupid sandwich if you were hungry. It was humiliating. But still, when you heard the keys jingle in its lock and the familiar voice calling out to you only the name they reserved for you, you felt immediately calm and ready to be in their care. Yet, in the stillness of isolation and the solace you could have easily found, you wound up in the most (un)likely of places.

Mick opened the front door eagerly awaiting the respite of his bed. Tired from all the press, fittings, and training he had to accomplish before his next race, all he wanted to do was have a snack and flop on his bed and take a nap (Or a very long awaited sleep). The blue eyed boy you had so little recent memory of, but so full adoration for made his way around the living space growing increasingly worrisome as he called out for you.

“Smidge?”

“Smidge, I am home!”

“Schätzen?”

First, he checked the usual places you could’ve gone on crutches. And then, he wondered to himself if you were more mobile than he might have thought with just a boot on your leg now. Having made sure you weren’t in the shared living space or your own bedroom, the Mercedes driver began to panic.

As burnt out as he was, he dashed outside to see if you were in the pool house and maybe were too tired to walk back, but no such luck happened for him. His next attempt landed him caught in den. He knew you liked to cuddle up in there and watch TV, but you were nowhere to be found. Pulling out his phone, he began to dial the security detail he had hired to be there for you around the clock. The Swiss-German driver had one more idea though. Tiptoeing, he creeped to the room he had been staying in, the door being ajar making it seem as though someone had been in there. He knew for a fact he had shut it close before he had left this morning. Pushing the door ever so quietly, Mick stumbled upon one of the greatest sights he had ever seen.

You were tangled up in his sheets with one of his shirts hanging off your body loosely, as you held one of the pillows close to your body. Mick couldn’t help but relish in the view in front of him. He didn’t even care that you didn’t have your boot on, and he very much cared about that. But, as he watched your shoulders rise and fall with a calming rhythm, he realized that he’d either have to wake you to move you, or climb in bed with you. He secretly hoped that the sound of his shower going would stir you enough, but after about 15 minutes of him rinsing off the day, you were still dead asleep in the same position. His bright blue eyes searched you and the bed up and down for a reasonable and not creepy way for him to climb into bed with you, as he dawned a white t shirt and blue pajama pants.

Mick just hummed confusedly as he debated leaving you where you slept and sleeping in your room or on the couch, or biting the bullet and sleeping in his bed with you by his side. Letting out a deep breath, he ran a hand through his blond hair and decided to slip into the bed with you.

You whined happily in your sleep when you felt the extra warmth join you. Mick lay frozen where he lay though, trying not to disturb the much needed sleep you needed. You eventually began to scoot backwards, your backside against his torso. Overcome with tiredness, Mick turned and was behind you now. Lazily, he threw an arm around your waist and pulled you as close as he could to his body. Soon thereafter, the two of you drifted off into what maybe was the best sleep of your life.

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You awoke with confusion in the middle of the night as you inhaled the scent someone who wasn’t yourself. Turning your head, you saw that the boy who had rescued you lay peacefully on his back as he lightly snored to the rhythm of his heart beating. You tried your best to get up without disturbing him - but to no avail, the next thing you could hear was incoherent German babbling and something about staying there.

“I need to go back to my own room.” You pleaded as you tried to pry him off of you.

“But why? You are comfortable here.”

You sat up and sighed, looking around at the unfamiliar place.

“I shouldn’t have come, this is your room…” You managed to mumble.

The boy who you sort of knew, but didn’t really know lay in front of you - his tired blue eyes searching for any kind of sign of life. And as his eyes searched and searched for some kind of indicator that you were still there, you reached out and stroked his cheek. The two of you lay on your sides, face to face on his bed while you caressed his cheek. Mick couldn’t help but lean into the welcomed touch as your fingers ventured the rest of his face for answers.

“Why are you in here, Schätzen?”

He didn’t sound accusatory, no, but he did sound throughly confused.

Since moving into the house he rented for the two of you a few days ago, he made it clear that he had his own room and that you had yours. He didn’t want to you feel pressured or scared to be by yourself. And despite all of the nights before the accident that you two did share a bed, he knew that you needed your own space to learn and to recover.

“My room doesn’t smell like yours.” You further nuzzled your face into the pillow beneath you as his fingers snaked around your waist to find yours.

“And what does my room smell like?”

You happily sighed, the wave of sleepiness yet again coming over you as you squeezed his hand tightly. Sure, you two may be cuddling but those are just semantics.

“Home.”

The next morning you awoke to an empty bed, the sheets and blankets that were previously tangled around Mick’s body now covered you completely. Sitting up, you find a piece of paper on his pillow addressed to you.

Smidge,

I had to go out to train again before tomorrow’s FP. Relax, sleep, and rest in here as long as you would like. I will be back in the afternoon.

Love,

Mick

PS - Please put the boot back on your leg. Otherwise, I will have to start carrying you everywhere because you will have a bum leg… Or maybe do not put the boot on, now? I quite like the idea of carrying you everywhere…

You smiled softly at the note as you got up and out of bed. Slipping your boot back on, you slowly made your way to the kitchen. The house was littered with photos of you and Mick. From childhood to what you guessed was more recently, memories scattered throughout your new home were a nice reminder that someone did in fact care for you the way you always longed for. And of course, there were other pictures too. You assumed the pictures of you that you didn’t recognize were more current, and that they were of other drivers. Mick had slowly been reminding you of your career before the crash, but to no avail you couldn’t recollect anyone’s face.

After getting a snack, you moved to the den where there was a cozy couch and big blankets. Taking your boot off, you hopped onto the couch and got comfortable. Mick knew you so well that he knew that you’d be in there most of the day. So much so that he had your favorites already in there, and your two notebooks there as well.

The blue notebook was meant to be for things you maybe suddenly remembered, whether that be a smell, a memory, or really anything. And then the purple notebook was meant to be for recall. Mick filled it out with more pictures and things you have been interested in the past. The mental image of Mick staying up late and working hard at making this notebook (which was more of a scrapbook, but for some reason he bought a notebook and not a scrapbook) for you filled your stomach with butterflies.

Grabbing the TV remote, you found some random show to play in the background while you decided which notebook to go with today. As you were scooting further into the couch, you suddenly felt something poking you in your back. Moving slightly, you reached behind you to find an even tinier notebook like journal stuck in between the cushions. It didn’t look at all familiar to you, the leather bound cover worn and cracked at its spine, yet loved ever so apparent by the filled out pages.

Curiosity got the best of you though, as you gently opened the tiny booklet. Mick’s chicken scratch he calls his handwriting littered the pages in a nonsensical manner. Yet, there was one thing that stood out to you.

Your name.

Your name was written everywhere; sometimes messily and sometimes with the fondness only a lover could have for their partner. He was writing down every little thing about you since you had woken up from your coma. He was jotting down when you’d typically fall asleep and wake up, how much medicine to give you, and what interesting things you might’ve said that day.

Mick Schumacher was making sure he didn’t miss a thing when it came to you and your recovery.

You closed the booklet and put it back where you found it, unable to focus on the TV now. You put your boot back on and wobbled out and into your own bedroom. You sighed at the room, the bed made neatly still. It was a simple bedroom with only a few pictures on a bookshelf. It had a desk and presumably your laptop or one that was on loan for you to use. Even if you were to use it, you wouldn’t even know where to begin. You didn’t know how long you were standing in the doorway either, because the sound of the Mick’s truck pulling into the driveway pulled you out of your own head. As quickly as you could, you hurried over to his room, trying your best to make his bed before he came back into the house. You had totally forgotten to do that and you knew that he was a stickler for it.

“Smidge! I am home, finally!” Mick’s sing-songy voice echoed through the home.

“Welcome back!” You yelled back while you were still trying to tuck in his sheets under the mattress. Making a bed was very difficult with a boot on one of your legs.

Surely, you were huffing and puffing, out of breath and out of shape as you did your best to finish it time. You must’ve been distracted by the uneven corners that your hearing went and died.

“You know, you do not have to make the bed up for me.” Mick cleared his throat, a soft chuckle escaping his lips.

Your eyes slowly gazed up and met his amused face as you stood to your feet. With a nervous laugh, you scratched the back of your neck and breathed out.

“I wasn’t doing it for you. I was doing it for me.”

“Ah, yes… Because you are such a big fan of making up the bed?”

You rolled your eyes trying not to show him how much of an effect he had on you. Sighing with defeat, you walked over to him in the doorway and waited for the next thing.

“How was your day, Schätzen?” Mick’s face was pointed downwards at you, his blond hair messier than usual. He looked exhausted.

“It was fine, I didn’t do much. How was your, uh, thingy?” The two of you strode out to the shared living space - Mick offering his arm for more support.

“My thingy was good, but very tiring. I am ready to wind down and relax for the night.” He helped you onto the couch, taking your boot off and propping your leg back on some pillows. “Ich habe dich heute vermisst (I missed you today).”

“Well, you know where to find me these days.” Mick sat beside you trying to gauge your emotions. Even for him, sometimes you were hard to read.

“I know it is difficult being cooped up in here. I am sorry for that, Schätzen.” His tone was honest, his voice slightly hoarse probably from the day he had. All you could do was shrug in response.

Minutes of silence between the two of you wasted away as you stared blankly at the wall in front of you, Mick staring at the ceiling himself.

“Can you tell me a story?” You finally interjected. Mick turned his head towards you and lifted an eyebrow.

“A story? What kind of story?” Turning your head to meet his gaze, your eyes flickered up and down taking in as much detail as you could about his face.

“A story about us, or about that driving thing you said I did. I don’t know, just maybe thought it would help.” The boy’s mouth upturned into a large grin as he straightened his posture in excitement. Licking his lips, he ran a hand through his hair and gave you one last look. You tilted your head to the side in great anticipation.

“When we scored our first podium together, that night after celebrating with everyone… I was having trouble finding you at the end of the evening. You always have a tendency to run off when the crowd gets too overwhelming.” Mick hummed in interim as he fiddled with the hem of his white Mercedes shirt.

“That sounds like me. I’ve always hated big crowds.” You glanced down and noticed him fidgeting. Unconsciously, you grabbed his hand and interlocked it with your own. Giving it a small squeeze, you smiled and gestured for him to continue.

“Well, I guess I started to panic - Maybe it was the alcohol as well, but I was searching and searching for you. I even was tempted to bust into the women’s washroom and look for you.” Mick’s cheeks flushed to a faint pink as he recalled the memory. He truly was going to go insane that evening. “Daniel had to stop me from tearing the building apart that night.”

“And did end up finding me?” Mick brought the hand that was holding yours up to his mouth, placing a chaste kiss to your knuckle. His lips still lingering on the soft skin where your fingers bend, he mumbled into your hand the words you always will want to hear, even if you couldn’t believe them.

“In jedem Leben werde ich dich immer finden (In every lifetime, I will always find you).”

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

flashback

The music was blaring and shaking the club where you stood to celebrate your first podium. The crowd was also flying high with excitement because their own Monegasque had secured the first place win in his hometown. It was a thrilling day for everyone and the thrills didn’t stop there, as you were deep into the night continuing to make memories of already great day. But soon, the urge to escape to find some air and to not be swarmed by loads of people filled your lungs. You looked around for the nearest exit and downed your last shot of tequila, before making your way to the exit. You were definitely tipsy. You could feel it in the way you were stepping, but you did your best to make it to the door. Escaping to the alley, the cool night air gave you a sense of calm and serenity you hadn’t felt since you got to the club. All you wanted to do was go back to your hotel room.

This was different from the last time you were Monaco with Mick Schumacher. You were just visiting him while he drove for F2. But this time, you both were winners and you both had reason to celebrate a magnificent race. You were also older, you both were. The relationship between you now was evolving now that you were teammates, too. They was a level of professionalism that had to be evident everywhere the two of you went now. And of course while the two of you are both driver’s for Mercedes and both are trying to score points for your team, it was a bleak reminder every Sunday that you two in fact were racing against each other. That wasn’t to say that at the end of the day you two would hate each other, but now there was more tension in your professional life, that was seemingly seeping into your personal life.

You pulled out your phone and tried to stare at the screen long enough for the letters to stop floating. Maybe the last shot of tequila was a bad idea. Nevertheless, you attempted to call someone to come pick you up and take you back to your hotel. You would’ve called Mick, but if the two of you were seen leaving the club together and then going to your hotel room… That could mean very bad rumors and terrible press to follow. You sighed, weighing your options in your tipsy-probably now drunken stupor.

“What’re y’doin out here by yourself?” Your eyes widened in fear as your fingers hovered over your phone screen. You didn’t want to look up, but you knew exactly whose voice that was.

“I’m…. Uh, just getting some air, that’s all.” Your eyes remained focused on your phone.

“Out here? In the cold?” You knew the was a losing battle, so with that you looked up with your guilt ridden face to meet the confused Australian. “Mick’s absolutely losing his shit looking for you, ya know?”

“I can imagine, but he’s a big boy. He can handle it.” Daniel let out a scoff, followed by roll of his big brown eyes.

“Yeah, I don’t think ‘handling it,’ and ‘you,’ go very well together for Mick.” The two of you were leaned up against a dirty wall, Daniel lending his jacket to you. “He turns into like, a lovesick puppy when it comes to you.”

You only hummed in response. Daniel was definitely thinking that the two of you spend way too much time together. Taking his phone out of his pocket, he swiped to answer the incoming call.

“Yeah, mate. I found her, don’t worry. She’s fine,” You could hear Mick’s voice go from 60-0 in seconds once Daniel relayed the message. “She just wanted some fresh air, so we’re - No, you don’t have to come out here… I promise she’s fine…. Yes. Yes. I know, Schu. Okay, fine.” Daniel handed the phone to you with a deadpan look.

Popping your lips to make small bubbling noises, you finally worked up the courage to speak to Mick.

“Hi, Mickey.”

“Are you crazy? Going outside by yourself? Why did you not come find me? I would love to go outside with you! Outside with you is the best place to be, Schätzen. Not inside by myself. Are you insane?” You could tell he was very intoxicated. He was slurring a bit, but what definitely confirmed it was he was a lot more chatty than usual.

“Mickey, I’m fine. I just wanted some fresh air. It’s okay.”

“It is not okay! You could have gotten killed!”

You could see the Aussie looking down at his feet, trying to hold in a laugh. Mick was never going to beat the lovesick puppy allegations.

“Mick, calm down. I’m fine. You’re fine. We’re all fine. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Was auch immer Sie sagen, Liebling (whatever you say, darling).”

You hung up the phone and handed it back to your friend. Sighing again, you glanced up at the night sky. Closing your eyes, you took in the crisp air and exhaled trying to calm your nerves.

“So why aren’t you a couple? You already love each other, disgustingly so.” You didn’t answer the Aussie. “He’ll wait for you forever, ya know. Don’t you think… That’s… Kind of…”

“Kind of what?” You made eye contact with the other driver, his expression mimicking the gears turning in his head as he searched for the right word.

“Cruel? It seems kind cruel that you keep leading him on, like y’do.” Pressing your lips into a tight line, you shook your head.

“I’ve given Mick an out, plenty of times. I’ve told him that we can’t be together, and that we’re better as friends.” You were frustrated with the situation at hand. What others perceived as cruel, you saw as something normal between you and Mick. He always knew how you felt about him, but he always knew how you felt about relationships too.

“But, he’s just so… In love with you. Fuck, if someone was that in love with me, it would be hard for me not to like… Fall for them either.”

“I never said I didn’t love him, or hadn’t fallen in love with Mick.” You quickly corrected him. His eyes brows moved up his face in surprise, the realization settling in as he slowly nodded his head. “We just can’t be together like that.”

“Why not, though? He knows about your dad, and everything. I don’t see how-“

The pair of you were interrupted by someone else yelling your name. You both turned your heads to find a very, very drunk Mick hanging off of his best friend Esteban. Saved by the bell, you gave Daniel his jacket back and walked over to the other drivers.

“For fuck’s sake, you’d think being German he could handle his Jäger.”

“That sounded dirty.” Daniel replied, bursting out laughing as he helped Esteban with Mick. There was already an Uber on the way so as the four of you waited for it, you could hear Mick ranting in German.

Mick was going on and on about the bar service in his native tongue, while Esteban was presumably cursing his friendship in his own native tongue. The mix of languages alongside various alcohols consumed, probably made for a very interesting sight. Daniel didn’t speak German or French, though. He just stood, awkwardly trying to catch what he could of the conversation. Finally, the car service pulled up and the boys loaded your friend into the back. The French and Australian drivers looked back at you with confusion.

“Not it.”

The two boys in front of you called out simultaneously. You felt like it was your new hobby rolling your eyes at dumb men in front of you. Climbing into the backseat with Mick, you gave the other two shit eating grinning boys a glare that immediately made their smiles fall.

“Did we really think it was going to be anyone else, but me to drag his drunk German ass back to his house? Exactly. Now, go away!” You shooed them playfully as you shut the door.

Mick was humming to himself as he was slumped over against the window. His eyes were shut, but he held a tiny smile on his very pink lips. Sloppily, he reached for you and groaned like a baby when he couldn’t find you. You scooted closer to him in the back of the car, and soon his hand found yours. His big hand was covering yours as the two of you silently rode back to his apartment. Upon reaching the complex, you thanked the driver and exited the vehicle. Mick’s security detail was already there and you were able to hand him off to them. You didn’t want to be seen with him anymore than you already had been. Turning your heel to get back into the vehicle you arrived in, you could hear Mick’s voice calling out for you.

“Smidge! Smidge! Wait… Noooooo, they are going to take me away!!! Nooooo, no thank you!” You were sure in his head he was being a lot more aggressive with his security detail, but to you it just looked like a kitten trying to defend itself against a lion.

Walking back to him, you politely asked the security detail to move away just for a moment. You sat him down on the steps of his apartment building, crouching down to meet his eye level. You so desperately wanted to go inside with him, but knew that even this was going to be too much to handle tomorrow. With a sad smile, you stroked his cheek a few times before standing to your feet. His hand gripped yours when you turned to leave, making it impossible to do so.

“Smidge, please do not leave me tonight.” You could barely him as he whispered.

“I have to. I can’t be seen spending the night at your apartment, Mickey.” He gained groaned very loudly. You tried to shush the inebriated boy. “Mick, I need to go. It’s late, and you need to get some sleep.”

“But-“

Without another word, you released his grip from your fingers and trudged your way over to the car. You hated how it had to be this way, but there was a job to do and before anything else, the two of you were teammates. Teammates who didn’t sleep over at each other’s apartments, and teammates who definitely didn’t love each other. You took one final look back, trying to see if you could break your own heart even further. But as you looked back over your shoulder, you only caught the door of the building closing, and Mick nowhere to be found.

You got into the back of the car and held back your oncoming tears. The driver began to head to your hotel as you pulled out your phone. Your fingers danced nervously over the keys as you debated whether or not you should text him. For better or for worse, you pulled up your guys’ text message thread and began to type.

And if the gods were not cruel enough to you, as you were typing, he sent you a message first… Making it that much more difficult to not fall more in love, and to keep that distance you always held between you. After all, that was the way it was meant to be… It was the way it was supposed to be, anyway.

Mickey 🐭: Text me when you get back to your room so I know that you made it there safely, please. You hold my heart in your hands. I love you, Smidge.

You: I will, Mickey. Get some sleep.

Mickey 🐭: In jedem Leben werde ich dich lieben. Aber in diesem Leben werde ich darauf warten, dass auch du mich liebst (In every lifetime, I will love you. But during this lifetime, I will wait for you to love me too).”

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #mick schumacher #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #shiver fanfic #mick schumacher x reader

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revalition · 4 months ago

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OCT 18 - ELECTROCHEMISTRY Go to party planet. Love and be loved by drugs.

.... (looks at calendar) yup definitely october 18th today, don't mind us. this didn't even take that long, I wish I could have done more for one of my fav boys. we were putting off a task we didn't want to do (update resume) which meant getting stuck doing nothing at all for 2 days :)))

tomorrow is full of stuff we dont want to do too so... might fall behind on skilltober a bit. it's ok. but it's almost 2am and we gotta be up at 8 so gonna stop rambling now!!! (much love from the main guy who runs this blog and echem!! we're both here!)

lotssss of stuff under the cut! of my wonderful guy!

fun facts:

- has a swear score of 9/10 (calculated by yours truly) second only to half light

- he damages volition only once and heals volition 10 times! that's also the most healing out of any of the skills

- this impolite guy never once says sorry or please. he does say thank you once (to idiot doom spiral for inviting them to party)

- calls you Harry 3 times, boy 7 times, son once, man 13 times (+ calls volition man twice lol), baby 13 times, darling once, buster once, sir once, chief once, buddy 2 times, brother twice, detective 3 times... he talks to you a lot! I'm sure I'm missing some too

- calls himself your mesolimbic reward pathway, your glands, receptors/GABA-receptors, your pleasure response/centres, your electrochemistry, your parasympathetic nervous system, your moral compass (uhm...), your brain (that's a bit presumptuous) again probably missing some

- the 30 screenshot limit is *evil* >:(

also, electrochemistry's name translates directly to electrochemistry in almost all the languages disco has been translated to (which is interesting on its own, electrochemistry is the study of the chemistry of electrons moving) except the chinese translation -- 食髓知味

I don't speak a word of chinese so forgive me if this is off but google translate directly translates it to "Eat the marrow to know the taste". Apparently it is an expression meaning that once you've had a taste of something (the marrow) you will want to have it again, and is used in a negative way.

it... describes echem's role in the game quite clearly. anyway this seemed way too cool to not share.

onto the quotes!

he's so sassy

true! true! tell him echem!

I love love love this one. echem recognizes joy. kim's joy!!

shhhhhh

volition only trying to rein in electrochem... he's all alone out here haha

so delightful, happy electrochem!!!

no 😭 why is he *like that* sometimes. rhetoric knows he's gonna suggest something stupid before echem even opens his mouth. actual idiot. this is a godly check too! he gets sooo stupid at high levels...

hitting this guy with a rolled up newspaper >:|

pleaseee volition make him stop talking. he's so bad. I know he's just doing what he knows, but he's doing it in a manipulative way

look how stupid he is <3 this is when you make the jump for your coat, while you're falling through the air...

alternate outcome!! this line is actually so sad ☹️ noooo... sweetie your precious friend is still there it's okay you'll be okay

electrochemistry making this horrible situation even worse! pleaseee dude not *THE EXPRESSION* I want to strangle him. volition fighting for his life out here

he wants to be famous <3

I didn't mean to put 3 quotes in a row of authority and echem getting along but here we are. echem just wants to buy stuff he doesn't know any better!

one millisecond before hurling the pétanque ball into the ocean... at least he had fun doing it

he praises you for pouring your alcohol on the ground to honour the people you and kim have killed in the line of duty. okay my dude...

YES shit on the kingdom of conscience! someone has to!

what is wrong with him? (affectionate)

these increasing difficulty electrochemistry checks... thanks for making everyone regret asking man. and regret ever leveling you up that high in the first place...

if you rejected the task to find a drink, echem doesn't want it!

echem turning down the opportunity to use the expression, and it's just cause he isn't interested... dying. dying here.

this is a classic and a favourite. I was like 3 minutes into the game when I got this and was like ohhh... what's with this guy. oh dear.

bad :( don't call him a *lamo* stupid skill. him referring to himself by his own name is funny, I don't think any of the others do that

idiot doom spiral cuts him off here. but electrochemistry is the only skill that talks about the basal ganglia (Ancient Reptilian Brain). After some research it looks like the mesolimbic pathway and basal ganglia are closely related, and certain structures are even shared between them. Which might explain why electrochemistry is more in tune with ancient reptilian brain than the other skills. There's actually a really similar thing with perception (smell) talking to limbic system, and the olfactory system and limbic system share pathways in the brain. fascinating. which then raises the question of if pre-martinaise harry knew these things -- knows what a mesolimbic pathway is, and an olfactory system and a basal ganglia, and then named them accordingly? or if it was something else...?

(hopefully this is right, I'm a programmer not a neuroscientist. if someone who actually knows about brains knows more please say something lol)

anyway. onto other quotes.

look at them, look at the idiots <3

he's so sarcastic. look at him, focusing on what really matters! good job buddy

he's gonna kill volition one of these days. also happened in my first playthrough lol, my very high electrochemistry meant I became very fond of volition very fast.

volition... volition beloved, trying to stop you. electrochemistry *lying*. I believe volition about the vow, shush. but also... it is sooo sad that he thinks you guys can't make it without speed :( it's clearly that thought process, that it's better to risk your own health and save as many people as you can, that got things to be as bad as they are... he's got so many issues.

anyway. I've never hit 30 screenshots so fast, yikes. I love this guy so much. I have *so* many thoughts about him... how his role in harry's life would change after being sober and clean for a while... he just wants you to be happy.

#skilltober #de electrochemistry #de skills #disco elysium #rev art #volition's in this so he gets a tag too #de volition

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script-a-world · 2 months ago

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Submitted via Google Form:

How reckless could a race of people be if they could heal rapidly? If someone got hit by a car in real life and needed a few months to start walking again, and over a year to do anything like martial arts again, for these people, they'd be walking in a few days and doing martial arts in two weeks. If they would die on impact, then yes, they would die. If they would die in an ambulance, it depends but they would still have a chance. In real life, cuts that take a few days to heal will be healed in several minutes. They definitely do feel pain of course, but as a whole, the general populace has pain tolerance just below those of elite athletes in the real world. I'm imagining these people might be the daredevil type.. could it be very common to get cuts and bruises, not strange to see some of the worst kids or teens getting cut nearly every single day, multiple times a day. I mostly want to focus on the injured = not a big deal bit. Or getting injured as part of normal daily life. But what else might this affect? More surgeries happening because people decide the recovery time isn't an issue (doesn't eliminate other factors of course) How about piercings? If someone goes half a day without piercings, their hole would close. Maybe... medicine that stops the healing process? But how expensive could those medicines be vs getting pierced again?

Tex: So there’s this plant, called plantain. One of the common varieties is known as Plantago major. One of its primary uses in herbal medicine is to heal wounds - and it’s very good at it!

A little bit too good, unfortunately, and it often comes with a warning to clean out wounds first before applying it, because it has the tendency to work so quickly at encouraging skin to knit back up that infections can easily be sealed underneath. This is a problem, because in order to heal the infection, the skin must be cut back open, lest someone risk the infection spreading to the blood and causing sepsis (if not, in bad cases, necrosis).

“Super healing” has many of the same flaws. In practice, the process of healing is rather complex, and while there is some overlap in steps (excess blood cleared away, immune system response to pathogens, phagocytosis, signals sent to regenerate broken tissue or other affected organs), doing too much of only one process can have detrimental effects on the patient in question. It’s the reason why in first aid you clean a wound first, then apply medicines, then apply bandages.

Things like bones, and the squishier bits called organs, take time to heal, because they’re not only reallocating resources to grow new cells (i.e. neurogenesis, osteogenesis, etc), they’re also going through the entire pathway of fighting infections (i.e. B cells, T cells, etc) and checking for cancerous markers of cells that duplicated incorrectly (uncommon, but non-zero possibility). It’s a lot, lot more than “add calcium to bone” or “make skin whole”.

Regeneration of tissue is also rather itchy, and uncomfortable. That, barring anything else, is going to make a lot of people think twice about how many injuries they’re willing to risk. Compounding injuries compounds the discomfort, and most people wish to avoid being uncomfortable if there’s any other option for a situation.

On top of that, rapid regeneration would require a large amount of resources for both calories and micronutrients. This translates to being hungry all the time. Humans can generally heal quickly with a good diet and enough sleep (the brain regulates the flushing of metabolic waste during sleep, Patel et al.), which is why it’s seen as a good sign for hospital patients to have an appetite and also to have a regular sleep schedule.

You can handwave as much of this as you like in your worldbuilding, but to borrow SAW’s general rule, “you break it, you bought it” in terms of internal consistency.

#google submitted #technology #medical #first aid #healing

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murderedbyhomework · 10 months ago

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Kinda scared to post this but

translation of the last chapter of mlc novel not including the extra here:

If anyone doesn’t want to click into google docs full translation plus an extremely lengthy translator’s note underneath the cut

Main Text:

Di Feisheng had already crossed blades with all the main sects consecutively. Except for the Shaolin1 “Empty of tricks” Abbot who insisted against fighting, and Wudang2 “Purple haze” Daozhang3, who had been in seclusion for a long time, he was nearly undefeated in this world.

25th of August.

From the day they’d plummeted into the sea, till now, 13 years had almost passed.

Di Feisheng arrived at the shore of the East Sea very early, at a little village called “Grave of Clouds”, where everyone in the village was surnamed Yun4. The beach outside the village was very clean, with pearly white sand and an aquamarine sea, its waters reflecting the cloudless blue sky.

As if recalling the weather that year, on this patch of the beach, there was a great reef named “Sun Summoning”.

On some unknown date, an unknown person carved on this rock in unrestrained and majestic handwriting. As of now, miniscule sea conches had buried themselves in the deepest nooks and crannies of the calligraphy, but they could not take away from the magnificence of those winning loops and strong strokes5.

Di Feisheng stood on this very reef, clad in green billowing robes, just as he had all those years ago. In all honesty, he could kill Li Lianhua very easily, but what he wanted to achieve victory over, was not Li Lianhua himself, but Li Xiangyi’s swordsmanship.

13 years ago, he’d won the match, only because Li Xiangyi had been severely poisoned, but even poisoned, he’d still been able to do great damage to Di Feisheng. That move “The bright moon sinks in the west sea”, and the resulting 10 years spent on a sickbed, was engraved not just in his memory but in his bones, his heart6, for the rest of his life.

Today.

Di Feisheng felt that he could even just use half his true power to fight. He was going to kill Li Xiangyi. But not before he could crack his “The bright moon sinks in the west sea”. Besides, that man was crafty and resourceful, and in 13 years, perhaps he’d perfected maneuvers that surpassed “The bright moon sinks in the west sea”.

Di Feisheng stood on the “Sun Summoning” reef, and his heart faintly looked forward to the fight.

Beneath the reef, around 100 people stood there. The heads of Sigu Sect of course came, which among them included Qiao Wanmian. Emei7 Sect sent some young disciples, the gang of beggars sent 3 elders, Wudang Sect had Lu Jianchi, and even Shaolin Temple had some bald young monks arriving.

Among this motley crew of unusual people, a big golden and flashy sedan was what caused people to gape in tongue-tied disbelief8. The walls of the sedan were made of golden satin, which were embroidered with colorful phoenixes. The four people carrying it may have worn simple clothes, but with their arrogant attitude and blank expressions, it was clear that they were highly trained martial artists.

Sitting in the sedan was naturally great Young Master Fang and Princess Zhaoling. Outside, there stood a blank faced scholar, whose face was quite darkly tanned. Confronted with such a strange sight, members of the martial world kept their distance from it, exchanging hurried whispers and theories.

Fang Duobjng actually wasn’t willing to ride the sedan here at all. He’d originally planned to throw his wife off his trail, climb over the wall, and leave, spending the better half of the next year free to do whatever. Unbeknownst to him, his wife knew the tune his soul strummed out9 too well, and, knowing that her husband was about to run away, cheerfully prepared a grand sedan and carriages, sorted out their duties, and came here hand to hand with her ‘good husband’.

Along with this loving couple came Yang Yunchun. He’d been curious about the legend of Li Xiangyi and Di Feisheng for long, and had practically been raised on their stories. As a practitioner of martial arts, why wouldn’t he be curious? On the reef, Di Feisheng seemed as imposing as the mountains and the abyss, his impressive aura reaching far and wide10. To Yang Yunchun, this sight greatly expanded his horizons, and he silently praised how people of the Jianghu were indeed different from the ones in court.

And yet even as Di Feisheng stood on that reef for 4hours, until it was past noon, nobody caught a glimpse of Li Xiangyi’s figure.

The crowd began exchanging theories in hushed whispers, Ji Hanfo’s forehead creased, as did Xiao Zijin. Bai Jiangchun had started to quietly order his attendants around, and Qiao Wanmian had unconsciously adopted a troubled expression.

Fang Duobing poked his head out from the sedan, “Why hasn’t he arrived after so long? Li Xiangyi wouldn’t have broken his promise right?”

Princess Zhaoling said quietly, “With an event of this magnitude, if he’s that unique among his contemporaries, a god amongst men11, how could he miss this? What if he’s had something happen to him?”

Di Feisheng stood on the reef, clear in mind and heart. Li Xiangyi was cunning, his late arrival was possibly a way for him to throw him off balance. At this moment, a large horse galloped towards the crowd, and someone called loudly from quite a distance away; “Young Master! Young Master! First Young Master!”

Fang Duobing leaped out from the sedan, brows drawn together, and asked, “What happened? During such an important moment, the Fang family somehow decides to send a messenger to yell and cause trouble, is it not really embarrassing?”

The servant boy had sped here by horse, and his breath was nearly gone, his face pale as he raised up a letter.”Young master, young master, this is a letter.”

Fang Duobing replied, not particularly good-natured in tone, “Of course I can tell that’s a letter. Hand it over!”

The servant boy handed over the crumpled up letter, turning paler by the second in fear, “This is Li Xiangyi’s letter…..”

“What kind of letter has to be delivered right now? Since when was Fang Family matters decided by this respectable one12?”

In a moment of infuriation, the phrase “this respectable one” fell from his lips, and yet Fang Duobing suddenly paused, “Li Xiangyi’s letter? His letter wasn’t sent to Sigu Sect instead? Why was it sent to me?”

He’d already been taking quite loudly, and after he said this sentence, everyone turned to look at him, and surrounded him and the servant boy quickly.

Li Xiangyi’s letter? Why would he send a letter to the Fang Family? And why wasn’t he here in person? Fang Duobing nervously opened the letter, his fingers trembling. The letter was a very commonplace piece of white paper, and on it was very familiar handwriting.

It wrote:

During the battle of the East Sea 13 years ago, this one, surnamed Li, used the advantage of concealed weaponry, and took the chance of a sinking ship to battle with you, yet was unable to emerge victorious. Your bravery and honor is near unmatched in this world, this one’s defeat graciously and gladly accepted. many years have passed, this one has succumbed to illness and cannot recover, blade broken and spirit departed, thereby unable to attend the promise of the east sea, much to this one’s regret.

Fang Duobing stared at that familiar handwriting, and only after a few sentences, he felt cold all over, and he could only see the letter say:

The mountains and rivers ever endure, ever changing. Departure follows departure, and my time has come. Today Xiao Zijin of Sigu Sect has trained with his sword valiantly for many years, and is not inferior to “the bright moon sinks in the west sea”. You pursue not a fleeting moment, not a deer in flight, but strive towards the martial world’s peak. This one has departed, and should you be dissatisfied, please request Sect Leader Xiao to take my place.

Fang Duobing’s face was deadly pale, and he looked at that last sentence:

Li Xiangyi passed on 13th July.

“What did the letter say?”

Ji Hanfo and Xiao Zijin walked over shoulder to shoulder, the crowd scattering out of their way, yet still poking their heads around in curiosity. Fang Duobing swallowed with difficulty, and when he opened his mouth his voice was hoarse.

“He said…...”

Xiao Zijin’s gaze was filled with a fierce light, and he grabbed Fang Duobing by his robes at his chest.

“What did he say?”

He was infuriated beyond belief, how dare Li Xiangyi break his promise to avoid a fight! This shameless type of vile character practically took Sigu Sect’s face and threw it out of the nine heavens13! If he did show up later, even if Di Feisheng didn’t kill him, he would!

“He said….. .he said…...” Fang Duobing looked at Xiao Zijin blearily, “He said he was already dead, so he can’t come, and he asked you……he asked you to take his place.”

“What?” Ji Hanfo exclaimed, and snatched the letter.

Xiao Zijin blinked, startled.

“What?”

“He said he’s already dead, so he can’t come, and that he regrets it a lot……” Fang Duobing mumbled. “He said…... he said your sword skill was very good, better than his, so he asked you to take his place.

The flame of fury burning in Xiao Zijin’s chest shot up into the heavens in an instant.

“What do you mean he’s already dead? Why does he want me to take his place? This is his oath of battle! This is his place! Why do I have to take his place?”

“He said…….” Fang Duobing said dazedly.

“Because you’re Sigu Sect Leader. Di Feisheng…….. is here to duel the Sigu Sect Leader, is he not?”

Xiao Zijin paused, dazed by the words.

“Why didn’t he come? If he came…... If he came I’d have….... returned the position to him….... returned it to him……”

He didn’t know why he said this, but somehow it came out so smoothly and naturally, as if he’d already said it in his heart a hundred million times. Fang Duobing shook his head.

“He said his blade was broken and his spirit was gone……. He’s already…....”

His voice was soft.

“He’s already dead.”

After that, he paid Xiao Zijin no more attention, and shakily walked back to his sedan.

“What is it?” Princess Zhaoling looked at him in concern.

Fang Duobing stood dazedly next to the sedan, and after what seemed like an eternity, the corner of his mouth twitched.

“Say……Darned Lianhua isn’t Li Xiangyi right?”

Next to the sedan, Shi Wenjue had watched as he became near dumb after reading the letter, and he hmphed.

“Pah! This respectable one told you ages ago, Li Lianhua is Li Xiangyi, Li Xiangyi is Li Lianhua, it was you who’d die rather than believing it. What is it? He sent you a letter? Now you believe it? Hahahahaha, he tricked us both so many years, it really is entertaining.”

Fang Duobing shook his head.

“Tell me— Darned Lianhua isn’t Li Xiangyi—“ Shi Wenjue was taken back.

“What is it?” Fang Duobing lifted his head.

“He sent a letter to Di Feisheng, he said…... he said he’s already dead, so he asked Xiao Zijin to take his place in the duel today.”

Shi Wenjue stared at Fang Duobing, as if in that instant, he’d become a piece of rock or a monster. Fang Duobing stared back in dazed confusion.

“Why did he have to send a letter to me? How nice would it have been if he hadn’t sent it?”

If he hadn’t sent it, I would never have known the truth.

Shi Wenjue dumbly looked back at Fang Duobing. All around them were so many people, yet in his eyes, they were but stone. Li Xiangyi was dead? That liar was dead? Why would he die? Wasn’t he Li Xiangyi? Li Xiangyi should’ve been…….undying.

“Was it really because of…… those injuries?” Shi Wenjue mumbled.

“Skies above…... I’d clearly known, yet…… yet I left— Skies above—”

Fang Duobing turned around, grabbing him all of a sudden and lifting him up, and snarled,

“What did you know?”

Shi Wenjue’s smile was more terrible than if he’d started crying.

“The liar has a lot of injuries, really severe old injuries…..probably remnants from when he fell into the sea…….”

Fang Duobing paused for asecond, and he wanted to continue yelling, but instead loosened his grip and put Shi Wenjue down.

“Whatever” He murmured, “Whatever whatever…...” He lifted his head to look at the turquoise sea and cerulean sky.

“This respectable one has known him for so many years, we ate and drank and even relieved ourselves in front of each other, but didn’t I end up knowing nothing about him anyway?”

“Is he really dead?” Shi Wenjue stood back up. “Who knows, maybe he lied, and to avoid coming to the duel, he’d pull something of this magnitude.”

Fang Duobing dazedly looked at the clear sunny sky, and shoke his head.

“He’s not pulling a trick. He might be a liar and a trickster, but he never really did trick anyone much……. not really, it’s just that you and I didn’t understand…....” His voice faded into a murmur.

“We just……. we just never took him seriously.”

On the reef, Di Feisheng had also heard about Li Xiangyi’s last letter, where he requested Xiao Zijin to take his place. After listening, he calmly tilted his head towards the sunlight and flew away, too disdainful to even cross blades with Xiao Zijin.

Yet Xiao Zijin was also unwilling to fight with him. He still couldn’t think it through, as to why Li Lianhua would rather run away than kill him that day, but suddenly died without a trace?

He’d said blade broken and spirit departed. Was it really that back then, when he’d shattered Wenjing, he’d also destroyed his chance of staying alive? Xiao Zijin felt horrified. What if….. what if it really was himself……. who had forced Li Xiangyi to death? He’d wanted him dead with singleminded passion, yet now when he really seemed to be dead, Xiang Zijin felt it was incomprehensible and unacceptable. Li Xiangyi was undying, he was undefeatable. He was supposed to be a godly presence, and no matter how Xiao Zijin treated him, how he spat hateful words or pointed swords at him, he should’ve never faded away and ceased to exist.

How could he just…... actually die? Was it because of the severe injuries he’d suffered years ago? When he’d been unwilling to kill, unwilling to end his own life that day, was it because—

Xiao Zijin’s face paled in an instant— could it be that Li Xiangyi didn’t want the former to kill him by his own hand! He didn’t want Xiao ZIjin to do someone he’d regret, or let Wanmian know he’d tried to force him to end his own life— so he couldn’t die at that moment! If he’d died then, Wanmian would’ve never forgiven Zijin.

So he’d jumped onto a fishing boat, to go…... to another place…... to die alone.

Xiao Zijin’s eyes reddened. He’d died alone, but when he died, was anyone there for him? Was there anyone who’d buried him, who’d given his corpse proper respects?

On the other end, the shore was silent in desolation, interspersed only by a few sobs, which were let out by some blue robed women in the corner. Ji Hanfo’s face was deathly pale to to extent of appearing gray, Bai Jiangchun collapsed to sit on the ground, and Shi Shui walked away silently. Xiao Zijin lifted his head to shout out sternly.

“Where did you die, Li Xiangyi? If you’re alive I’ll find you in person, if you’re dead I need to see your corpse. Even if I have to travel all over the world and overturn every inch of the ground, I will find you!”

Translator notes:

A sect for martial artists. One of the biggest, most prominent, most diverse martial arts sects with one of the longest histories in irl China. Present in reality and therefore referenced in a lot of works of literature as a martial arts sect

Wudang is a fictional martial arts school that’s often present in wuxia works of fiction

Daozhang, which might be familiar if you’ve read mdzs, is a title for very knowledgeable and spiritual people in Taoist believes. It can be extended to be used as a title of respect for any high up member of religion. In Taiwan it is also an address of respect between lawyers

Yun2 云 is the mandarin pronunciation for the words cloud. In the ancient times, entire tribes in China would often share the same surname and live together, and they’d often name the place they settled in after their own surname.

The chinese idiom used here was 银钩铁画 which refers to majestic calligraphy that deserves to win prizes essentially. The characters literally translated are silver, hooks/ticks, steel/metal, and strokes, so I went with half the idiom meaning and half the literal meaning.

Another chinese idiom (the author uses a lot honestly I’m just explaining the ones that I think deserve it) 刻骨銘心, which refers to a memory or experience being so unforgettable, it’s like it’s engraved into your bones and carved into your heart. 刻 and 銘 both mean carve/engrave, while 骨 is bone and 心 is heart.

The sect is called 峨嵋 sect, which sounds perfectly fine in in chinese, and in fact is named after a place in Taiwan, but unfortunately if you translate it literally it’s something like “mountain peak” and “brows” respectively, which sounds weird so I left it as the pinyin instead. Know that I tried.

Yet another idiom (Tengping I admire your literary ability and degree of culture, but please have mercy on the people translating ty <3) 瞠目结舌 which literally translated means to stare unblinking and unwaveringly, with your tongue tied. Mostly used to express great shock or disbelief.

The exact expression was zhiyin 知音, a term which anyone here who likes watching ‘bromance’ dramas will undoubtedly be familiar with. It actually doesn’t mean soulmate completely. Zhiji means something like “the one who knows me and my soul, my self utterly”, with zhi 知 being “to know/understand/comprehend” and ji 己 meaning “self”. Zhiyin therefore means something similar, but yin 音 means “sound”, or in this case “music”, so the meaning of this term would be “the one who understands the music my soul makes”. It originates from a very interesting story between friends Zhong Ziqi and Boya, and to summarize, Boya was a musician and Ziqi his friend, who despite his lack of formal education compared to Boya, could understand what Boya wanted to convey with every melody he performed, which is where the term zhiyin came from.

The idioms in question are 岳峙淵渟，氣象磅礡´. The first idiom 岳峙淵渟 means that someone is as silent as an abyss(淵渟) and as tall and imposing as mountains(岳峙), and is a metaphor for one’s upstanding and noble character (岳峙 part), as well as how great their tolerance is (淵渟). For 氣象磅礡´, 氣象mostly refers to weather, but in this case refers to one’s aura, while 磅礴 means expansive and endless.

Original idiom is 绝代謫仙, 絕代 means for one to be unique among one’s contemporaries, or to be the best within your generation. 謫仙 refers to gods who have been cast down into the mortal world, which extends to being a metaphor for people who are both noble in character and extremely talented, so much so that they seem otherworldly and unattached to the rest of the mortal world. God among men/mortals was the best translation I could condense this into.

The name Fang Duobing calls himself by is 老子 which can mean father, but in this case is a way for men to call themselves if they feel highly about themselves. Essentially it’s a pretty arrogant way to call yourself, because the title in the end can also mean father, so its a bit like someone saying “I’m your father” as in they have authority over/are senior compared to you

There’s a chinese saying 丢脸面which means to lose face. Xiao Zijin essentially wants to say that Li Xiangyi made Sigu Sect lose face so badly they can’t regain said “face” because it's 9 realms/heavens away.

#li lianhua #mysterious lotus casebook #li xiangyi #lian hua lou #di feisheng #fang duobing #xiao zijin #my translations #my writing #mlc novel #lianhualou novel #吉祥纹莲花楼 #if the format is iffy just bear with me i’m sorry #tumblr hates me #and also copy paste fucks up format so bad

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leclsrc · 2 years ago

Text

brought me here – cs55

Three lives bathed in citrus.

auds here... guys i wrote this on a whim because the concept of the intimacy of. just peeling a fruit & sharing it w a lover.... got to me fr. warnings for 1. google translated spanish and 2. a notting hill love letter in the middle. title from this

“Hey, do you want the other half?”

You present a half of an orange to Carlos, words muffled by a slice. It’s a big fruit, almost comically so, but he nods and lets you toss it to him. He pops one into his mouth, lets it crowd with the sweet taste. You smile. “Good, right?”

This is the first time you interact, over a peeled orange and then some. He talks about racing, about Spain; you talk about how you’re new here, interning at another team, and the oranges taste so much better. He asks if you’ve packed another, quietly—like he’s imposing—but you shake your head, no don’t be shy, I’ve got a lot. Swiped them from my neighbor’s yard.

You yank another one out of your bag and peel it with dexterity. He’s fascinated by this, by watching you, someone who had just been a stranger ten minutes ago, peel an orange and hand it over. “Oranges are best for sharing, don’t you agree?”

“Hmm.” He doesn’t really, doesn’t know what you mean enough to agree. “I don’t know.”

“Think about it.” He focuses on the English, gears turning in his head as it processes through him in Spanish. “An orange can be perfectly pulled into slices, into halves, quarters. You can easily share them without a knife or a cutting board. Just talking like this, we’ve shared two.”

“You’re right.”

“And no orange is alike. So every half really only matches its other half. Cool, right?”

He chews on a slice, nodding and smiling, then opens his mouth to reply. But just as quickly as this conversation has started, it’s come to a close—you’re called to report to work and you leave him, alone and stuttering over a response.

Carlos inspects the slice, the pith, the pulp. Nothing else will match this except the slice you’d peeled it away from. And Carlos doesn’t know this yet, but you’re his other slice, his other half.

He doesn’t know that in two months you will be peeling an orange for the both of you in his bed, offering a half to him. In six months you’ll be peeling an orange for him while you talk about moving in together. In eight months, you’ll be peeling an orange and inspecting your new flat. In a year, he will toss you a half of an orange, and you will chew on it while reviewing a job offer outside of racing.

In a year and a half, you’ll be sharing half an orange at a friend’s wedding. He will turn to you, watch your fingers fiddle with the discarded peels, and make a decision in his head. In two years, you will peel an orange for him, and this time you let him have all of it, because he’s world champion.

In two and a half years, he will peel an orange for you at dinner, then propose to you hours later. In three years, he will write his vows to you, and express his deep appreciation for the oranges you’ve peeled, for the conversations shared over them. Mi media naranja, he calls you. Always, forever.

And a long stretch of peels and pith later, he will be tucking a little girl into bed, brushing hair out of her eyes and promising an orange for breakfast. And he might wonder then, what life would be in any other universe, if he would still have his media naranja.

—

Carlos passes by a billboard of your face on his drive to work. It’s barely a drive—measly five minutes of traffic, really—but even if he walked or took a bus, the route would still show your face. Smiling and airbrushed and beautiful, on the poster of your brand new movie his roommate has seen twice in the cinemas now.

Your face is also the one staring at him blankly, sunglasses perched on your nose as you wait for your purchase to be checked out.

He’s owned this bookstore in London for five years now, a business decision that made barely any sense because he’s not even English, and hasn’t been to half the countries the store sells books of. They say magic happens with books, but Carlos is surrounded by hundreds of them, and for five years all he’s really got is a magical amount of debt and teenage shoplifters.

But this is magic. Right? It must be. A famous actress buying a book from his store. Somebody sidles up beside you; your eyes widen in mild panic.

“Oh, God. Could I maybe get your autograph? Oh, God. This is mortifying. I’m—I haven’t even got a pen, for God’s sake—”

“Well,” you say smoothly, “don’t worry, I do.” Your voice slides easily through the words, a pen retrieved from your jeans pocket. You let it hover idly while the other customer fidgets to find a good surface for his signature. Eventually, he settles on the front page of his new book, presenting it like a sacrifice.

You sign a clean, illegible scribble. He bows, then shrugs, as if to openly question why he even bowed. “Um, the bow was stupid. Don’t—Christ. Sorry. Big fan, I am. Oh, my—whatever. I love you. Bye.” He half-runs out of the store, and the bell rings noisily as he departs, his head still turned toward you through the glass even when he’s walking away.

You turn slowly back to him, clearing your throat. “Did you still want to ring that up, or—?”

“Oh, sure. This one, right?” He points at the smaller book—The Dummy’s Guide to London—and when you nod, he rings it up. “That’s not so bad a book. None of the usual ‘Big Ben, Buckingham Palace’ stories you’ll usually find in UK guidebooks. But y’know, there isn’t much to know about this city. It’s posh, a bit pretentious.”

“Right.” You nod, hiding a smile. “And you’re so obviously British.”

He laughs, shaking his head—his accent giving him away—then he smiles. You speak again: “How about this. I’ll let you know if it’s of good use. And no need for a bag.”

“Oh, please do.” He smiles back, placing the receipt on the book. You stay like that for a bit, then on a whim, he tugs an orange out of the brown paper bag he’d brought from the weekend market earlier. “If you’re hungry, or if you fancy a talk about London—for non-dummies and actresses, maybe—we could split the orange.”

You laugh. It’s a beautiful sound. “Okay. Well, oranges really are best for sharing, don’t you agree?”

“Hmm. I don’t know.”

“Think about it.” He focuses on your English, on your unmistakably American accent, gears turning in his head as it processes through him in Spanish. “An orange can be perfectly pulled into slices, into halves, quarters. You can easily share them without a knife or a cutting board. It’s just… easy.”

“You should turn that into a movie screenplay.”

You laugh. “I’ll give you half the royalties if it happens.”

Carlos lets you meet his friends two weeks later. One of them, Lando, totally blanks and forgets you’re a world-famous actress. Charles and his girlfriend serve you chocolate, to which you’re deathly allergic; apologetic and panicked, the only other sweet thing in their kitchen is an orange. You accept it gratefully, peel it, and give half to Carlos.

A year later you accept a half orange, continue mulling over the future of your relationship. You’d been in hiding for so long, in an effort to keep him safe. But this is real, you think. It’s the both of you, like it’s always been, like it’s going to be, always. The day next, after commenting on how your handbag smelled so naturally of orange peel, your Spanish co-star says: “So he’s like your media naranja?” And when you prompt elaboration, “Hmm—like your other half. Better half. Perfect match.”

You invite Carlos to a movie premiere of yours in Los Angeles nine months later. You forget dinner in the rush to make the call time, and squeeze his hand in the middle of the film. He’s too distracted by your acting, but manages to give you tiny orange he’d wedged into his inner jacket pocket. He peels it, gives you all of it. A congratulatory gift all his own.

—

You are both alone in this life, but content.

“Vendías naranjas ayer, ¿adónde fueron?” Your brows knit together. You’d made this specific stall your very last stop, to make sure you’d get the best oranges. The air is still and humid in Seville, but the weather is beautiful, and the oranges are delicious—really delicious. Andalusia is perfect this way.

The vendor shrugs. “Estamos fuera de ellos. Tienes que llegar temprano.” Then, as if sensing your lack of fluency in Spanish, he switches to accented English: “That man over there just got the last ones.”

Your eyes travel over to two stalls over, where a tall guy browses the tomatoes. His hair is long, his polo is loose, his paper bags overflowing with oranges. And you think, who the hell needs this many? But you don’t press, you simply walk away. You have work, a yoga class, a coffee to buy for yourself. Friends to meet. Money to earn. Countries to travel to.

Nothing tethers you to Seville. You’ll be gone in weeks if you wish to be, gone from the hills and the lovely area. But sometimes, and here especially in such a beautiful place, you always end up wondering if you will find someone to keep you. Someone to quarrel over an orange with, someone to peel it for, and someone to love.

You wait at the bus stop, eyes watching intently as the orange buyer walks over minutes later and stands idly beside you. You both wait. You both wonder.

#f1 #carlos sainz #carlos sainz drabble #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz imagines #carlos sainz fanfic #f1 x reader

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