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idontknowwhattoputasmyusernameee · 1 year

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Star Boy

Chapter 5

Age:15, Year: 25 BBY

Word Count: 5,821

Warnings: Slavery and mentions of violence

A/N: I’ve been on spring break this week so I’ve managed to write at least two chapters, this one and another one. Also we’re slowly approaching AOTC and I’m pretty excited for that. Writing this is so much fun and it has gotten to the point where I’ve been neglecting my studies. Cries in STEM major. But anyways hope y’all are enjoying it cause I know I am.

"Huh?" The blue Toydarian stared at you.

"I'm looking for Shmi Skywalker," you repeated, attempting to sound non-threatening.

Watto fluttered towards your face, getting close and personal, "Who are you, huh? Coming in here and demanding to see my property? Get out of here." He waved a wrench in your face, using it as a threatening weapon.

You couldn't help but sigh inwardly. Anakin had told you stories about Watto's hot-headedness, and it seemed like he was living up to his reputation. "Look, I just want to talk to her. I don't want any trouble, so if you could just--”

"No, I won't ask you again. Leave before I make you," he threatened, growing impatient with your continued harassment.

Watto's wrench was still in the air, waving around carelessly due to his anger. In an effort to disarm him, you reached out your hand and summoned the metal tool into your own hand.

His eyes widened in fear as he silently deduced what was happening and recognized who you were.

"A Jedi...”

"More or less," you deadpanned. "Now, take me to Shmi Skywalker.”

Watto's face twisted in contemplation, his beady eyes darting back and forth as he weighed his options. The gears in his mind were practically visible as he considered the consequences of his decision.

He growled, "Alright, follow me, but no funny business. Last time a Jedi came, they managed to take one of my slaves.”

You bit down on your lower lip, feeling the familiar sting of your teeth digging into your flesh. It was a nervous habit that you had developed over the years, a way to keep yourself from revealing too much. You knew that you had to be careful around Watto, that one wrong move could ruin everything. So you tried to keep your expression neutral, even as your heart pounded in your chest.

"Of course, I just need to discuss a few things and then I'll be on my way," you assured him.

As you followed Watto through the streets of Tatooine, his wings flapping furiously, you couldn't help but notice the wary glances of the people around you. The locals viewed you as an intruder in their dusty, barren home, and who could blame them? The buildings were dilapidated, with peeling paint and crumbling walls, and the streets were littered with debris. It was a harsh and unforgiving environment, where the sun beat down relentlessly on the backs of its residents. The air was thick with the smell of dust and grime, and the only sounds were the occasional rustle of cloth or the flap of wings. You had seen worse, but that didn't make the reality of the situation any less jarring. It was clear that Tatooine was a place where even the strongest struggled to survive.

Finally, Watto led you to a small, run-down hut that looked like it could collapse at any moment. The boards creaked and the walls groaned as you stepped inside. The air was thick and heavy, and the smell of must and mildew filled your nostrils.

You were struck by the simplicity of the space. The furniture was minimal, consisting of only a small cot pushed up against one wall and a rickety wooden chair tucked into a corner. A few pots and pans hung from the ceiling, while a small makeshift dining table was located in the center of the room. The walls were bare, with no decorations or artwork to speak of. However, as you took a closer look, you noticed a few drawings of creatures hanging on the wall above the table. You could only assume that they were drawn by Anakin, and they added a touch of warmth and personality to an otherwise spartan environment. Despite the lack of material possessions, the space felt homey and cozy, a testament to the resilience and resourcefulness of its resident.

You could hear a clinking sound noisily move in your direction. You stood up straight to address whoever it was but paused when you saw a golden protocol droid come into view.

"Meh, I'm leaving, and remember, no funny business,” Watto said, pointing a crooked finger at you before he left.

As Watto fluttered away, you rolled your eyes. His wings beat furiously against the hot Tatooine air, carrying him off into the distance.

"Oh, hello. Where are you supposed to be?" the droid asked. You looked around, thinking it was talking to someone else, but then realized it was actually addressing you.

"Oh, I'm not," you said as you removed your robotic mask, revealing your human face. Your skin was slightly flushed from the Tatooine heat, and your hair was slick with perspiration. "Sorry, I'm human.”

The droid made a mechanical squeal as it approached you, grabbed your hand, and shook it enthusiastically. "Pleasure to meet you. I am C-3PO, human-cyborg relations," it said.

"My name is Y/N," you said as your arm kept moving. "Can I have my arm back, please?”

Startled, he jumped back and released your hand. "Oh, my apologies. We don't get many visitors here.”

You nodded in understanding. "That's all right." You watched the droid walk toward the kitchen, grab a glass from a cupboard, and fill it with water. "I'm looking for Shmi. Do you know where she is?”

C-3PO turned around and placed the glass on the makeshift dining table. "I'm afraid she's not here at the moment. She's out working on the moisture farm," C-3PO replied, with a look of concern on his metallic face. "Is there something I can help you with in the meantime?”

You shook your head, “No, that’s alright. I’ll just wait for her to come back.” You took a seat at the table, glancing at the drawings once again. “Do you know when she’ll be back?”

C-3PO tilted his head. "I'm not entirely sure, but I believe it should be soon.”

As the door creaked open, a figure emerged, shrouded in a headscarf and goggles to protect against the persistent Tatooine winds. The woman's frame was small and frail, and her clothing was tattered and worn. Despite the harsh conditions of the environment, she still managed to maintain a sense of dignity and grace. Her eyes were weary and cautious, as if she had seen too much in her lifetime. As she stepped tentatively into the room, you could sense the tension in the air, the uncertainty of what was to come.

As you stood up from your seat, you immediately recognized her. Sensing the apprehension around her, she looked at you and asked, "Can I help you?" Her voice was soft and hesitant.

"My name is Y/N. I am a friend of Anakin's.”

As soon as you mentioned Anakin's name, Shmi's eyes softened, and she looked around the room with a mixture of hope and despair. You could see the longing in her gaze, the desire to be reunited with her son after all these years. Her eyes flicked back and forth between you and the door, as if expecting Anakin to burst through it at any moment. However, you shook your head, and her expression fell.

"Sorry, it's just me. I have a few things to discuss with you if you'd let me.”

She nodded, took off the scarf and goggles from her head, and walked to the kitchen.

“Can I get you anything to drink or eat?” She asked. You smiled but declined.

"So... what's so important that you had to come all the way to Tatooine to find me?" she tapped her nails against the wooden table, fidgeting around to calm her racing heart, hoping that there wasn't anything wrong with Anakin.

Your expression turned serious as you considered what to say.

"I've come to free you.”

Confusion was evident on her face as she blinked. "I'm sorry?" she asked.

You leaned forward and placed your hand over hers. "I've come to save you from this place," you said.

Shmi's tears came suddenly, bursting forth like a dam breaking. She buried her face in her hands, her body wracked with sobs.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you.”

"She shook her head. "No. I'm not upset—these are happy tears," she replied. She stood up from her seat and immediately embraced you in a big hug. Your hands hung limply at your sides for a moment, caught off guard and uncomfortable with physical affection. But your arms soon wrapped around her, knowing she needed the comfort.

As you held her tightly, you felt her body trembling with sobs. Eventually, she pulled away and wiped away her tears. "Thank you, thank you so much," she whispered with a voice heavy with emotion, holding your face in her weathered hands. You could see the overwhelming gratitude and relief etched on her face, and you knew deep down that coming to Tatooine was the right decision.

"But how? Why?" she asked, wiping away tears.

You explained everything from the beginning, including your time as a Padawan, your kidnapping, and how you ended up here. She listened with intrigue; her eyes widened at certain parts and turned sorrowful at others.

"Then, I decided to come here. When we were little, I promised Anakin that I would help free the slaves on Tatooine. However, I only have enough money for one person," you finished your story, revealing all the credits hidden in your boots. Her eyes widened at the amount, never having seen so much in her life.

You picked up the pouches of credits and placed them on the chair next to you. As a spice runner and smuggler, you had accumulated enough wealth over time to buy anything you wanted. However, since you were raised not to care about possessions, your thoughts drifted to people in need. You knew that this money could help countless individuals, and Shmi included.

"Watto will take whatever you have. He's been struggling ever since Ani left.”

You raised your brows at that. "I could tell. He did seem a bit out of sorts.”

She snorted, "You could say that.”

The smile she gave you brought you back to the temple, reminding you of Anakin. As you reminisced, you were struck by the sudden memory of his smile. It was a smile that could light up a room, radiating warmth and joy. You could almost feel his presence beside you and hear his laughter ringing in your ears. It was in moments like these that you missed him most, when the weight of his absence felt heavy and suffocating. You longed to see him again, to feel his reassuring presence by your side. But you knew it was unlikely, that he was off on his own adventure fulfilling his destiny as the Chosen One. So you pushed the thought aside and focused on the task at hand.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

You nodded, pushing away your thoughts. "Yeah, I'm okay, just thinking. Is there anything else I need to know about Watto before I negotiate?”

She shook her head. "No, but I do have this chip implanted. It discourages me from traveling off-world. If I do, then... you know.”

You furrowed your brow, understanding the implications of what she meant. At the temple, you never realized just how differently others had lived, too sheltered by the Jedi to understand the difficulties that others faced. When you lived with Hondo, you saw just about every kind of evil, and in some ways, it made you bitter toward the Jedi. You came to the conclusion that the order was hypocritical and unjust, placing themselves on a higher pedestal and turning a blind eye to the suffering in the outside world, despite having the power to stop it. This was one of the reasons why you never went back; you didn't want to be part of an order with an insane god complex.

In simpler terms, you had a reality check. Over the years, there have been many instances where you have been humbled, and this is one of those times. You have come to realize just how difficult Anakin's mother's situation was. She was taken into slavery, raised her son alone as a single mother, and had her son taken away by an order that couldn't save her. Her life was far from easy, and in just a few minutes of being in her presence, you could truly say how much you admired her. You admired her strength and optimism. Despite having everything taken away from her, it seemed like no obstacle was too great for her to overcome.

After a while, you rose from your seat and informed her that you would return. She wished you farewell and good luck. Despite her confidence in you, she knew better than to get her hopes up, aware of Watto's stubbornness that would be difficult to overcome. However, you were confident that you could make a deal. You were, after all, the most cunning sixteen-year-old in the galaxy. Although you weren't particularly proud of it, you could also say that you were the most manipulative. You had learned to get what you wanted over the years with Hondo.

After a short walk, you returned to where you had first found Watto. To your relief, he was still outside, banging on whatever scrap metal he was working on.

He noticed your shadow looming over him, blocking the sun's heat from his skin. His eyes rose to meet yours, and it was clear that he was unhappy.

"I thought you would have left by now," he grumbled, returning to the incessant banging.

Without hesitation, you retrieved the credits from inside your robes and placed them in front of him. Watto's eyes widened at the sight, clearly impressed.

"I'd like to make a deal with you," you said, your voice calm and collected.

He looked around the area, making sure no one was present to hear.

"Come inside," he uttered, "quick.”

The inside of the shop was cluttered and chaotic, with piles of scrap metal and discarded machinery littering every surface. The air was thick with the smell of oil and rust, making it difficult to breathe. The walls were stained with grime and grease, and the ceiling was so low that you had to duck your head to avoid hitting it. The only source of light came from a small, flickering bulb hanging from a frayed wire, casting eerie shadows across the room. It was clear that Watto had no interest in keeping the place clean or organized; it was simply a place to store his valuables and conduct his business.

"Sit," he commanded, motioning for you to take a seat on one of the dusty barrels or stools surrounding the rough-looking table.

"That's all right, I think I'll stand for now.”

He shrugged and fluttered over to the table, then sat down. "So, what kind of deal are we talking about?" he asked.

"I'd like to... buy Shmi Skywalker," the words tasted bitter as they left your mouth. You didn't like the way they sounded.

He laughed, clearly amused by your request. "Buy her? You Jedi are all the same. You think you can just come in here and take whatever you want. Well, I'm not selling my property, not even to a Jedi.”

You leaned forward with a serious expression. "I'm not asking for a handout. I'm offering a fair price for her freedom, and I have the credits to back it up." You slid the pouches across the table, the sound of metal clinking against wood filling the room.

"No," he said.

You raised your eyebrows. "No? I'm offering you more than a fair price for a slave.”

Watto shook his head. "It's not just about the credits; she's been with me for years. She's part of my family.”

You scoffed, "Family? You buy and sell people. I'm not buying that excuse.”

Watto's face grew red with anger and frustration, and he stood up from his seat, his wings flapping furiously. You could see the veins bulging in his neck and temples, and his nostrils flared as he struggled to keep his temper in check. Watto stood up, his face growing red. "You don't understand, it's not that simple.”

Frustration mounted within you as you narrowed your eyes at him. You had expected some resistance from the Toydarian, but his stubbornness was starting to test your patience. “Then make it simple," you said sharply. "Sell her to me, or I leave with my credits and you dead."

Watto's eyes widened at your threat, and he took a step closer to you, brandishing his wrench menacingly. "You wouldn't dare," he hissed, as the wrench in his hand inched closer to your face. "I'm not afraid of Jedi. I've dealt with your kind before.”

You stood your ground and refused to back down. You had come too far to let Watto's threats intimidate you. Your hand instinctively went to your blaster, ready to defend yourself if necessary. "Is that so?" you replied calmly, never taking your eyes off of his. "I'm not here to cause trouble, Watto. I just want to buy Shmi's freedom. You know as well as I do that it's the right thing to do."

Watto hesitated, his eyes flickering back and forth between you and the pouches of credits on the table. You could tell he was considering your offer, but there was still a hint of reluctance in his expression.

"Think about it. Those credits will buy you a new life, away from this place. You won't have to struggle to make ends meet anymore.”

He looked conflicted, glancing at the credits for a moment before turning back to you. "Fine," he said in a whisper. "I'll sell her to you.”

You let out a breath that you didn't realize you were holding, feeling relief wash over you. You had done it - you had freed Anakin's mother.

"Thank you," you said, your voice sincere. "I promise you won't regret this.”

As Watto handed you the datapad, you noticed that his eyes were downcast and his demeanor was defeated. You could sense the conflict within him as he muttered, "Just take her and go." Despite his status as a Toydarian slave owner, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for him.

Without a word, you took the datapad from him, trying to hide your emotions. As you turned to leave, a sense of accomplishment washed over you. You had done something good, something that would make Anakin proud. Part of you wanted to fly to the temple and tell him what you had done, but you knew that you still had a long way to go before you could truly call this a success.

You had promised Shmi that you would help her escape from slavery, but you still needed to figure out how to get her off the planet and to a safe place. You also knew that there would be repercussions for your actions and that you needed to be prepared for anything that came your way. But for now, you felt content in the knowledge that you had taken the first step towards keeping your promise to Anakin.

…

After your success, Shmi invited you to live with her for a while. Grateful for a place to stay while you figured out your next move, you accepted her invitation. Over the course of the next week, you managed to deactivate the chip. You told her of your plans to move her off-planet, but to your surprise, she refused. She insisted on staying in her quaint little hut, saying that there were too many memories to leave behind. You understood, knowing how difficult change could be, especially since this was the only life she knew. Together, you made her hut feel like a home. With more money and time, she was able to decorate it the way she wanted.

As you spent more time with Shmi, you learned about her life and struggles. She told you about her experience as a slave, the harsh conditions, and the constant fear of being sold to someone worse. She shared her pain about the day Anakin was taken from her, how she cried for days, and the loneliness she felt after he was gone.

Hearing about the hardships she had gone through broke your heart. You felt grateful that you had been able to help her in some small way. Every day, she insisted that you stay with her and live with her until she got her bearings. You realized that she felt lonely, and you couldn't bear to leave her alone. So you stayed by her side.

You and Shmi walked through the bustling streets of Mos Espa, where the annual market had just opened. The cacophony of sounds and sights was overwhelming, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder at the vibrant scene around you. Vendors shouted out their wares, their voices blending together into a symphony of noise. People haggled over prices, their faces animated with excitement and anticipation. The smells of exotic fruits and spices filled the air, adding to the sensory overload. You and Shmi weaved through the crowds, admiring the colorful displays of fabrics, intricate jewelry, and curious trinkets. The chaotic energy of the market was a stark contrast to the desolate and barren desert that surrounded the town, and it was clear that Shmi was enjoying herself. She held a small basket woven from grass in one hand and clutched your arm with the other, her eyes wide with wonder as she took in the sights and sounds around her.

Suddenly, her footsteps stopped, causing you to turn your head.

"What's wrong?" you asked her.

She shook her head, her face turning red. "It's nothing. I just saw someone I knew," she said, trailing off and looking around the crowd.

You followed her gaze, trying to see whom she was looking at. However, the sea of people made it impossible to spot anyone in particular. "Who is it?" you asked, your curiosity piqued.

Shmi shook her head. "No one important. Just an old acquaintance," she said, though you could tell there was more to the story. Her eyes kept glancing ahead to a small vendor where a family stood.

“Is that who you're looking at?” you asked, nodding toward the family.

She blushed even more and nodded, knowing it was useless to lie to you.

"That man, with the greying hair, his name is Cliegg Lars," she sighed. "He's a moisture farmer.”

You smirked, knowing where her emotions were leading her.

"You like him," you meant for it to come out as a question, but instead it floated out as a statement.

She shook her head. "No, it's not like that. We're just friends." But you could see the way her eyes lit up at the mention of his name and the way her cheeks flushed at the thought of him.

You couldn't help but smile. "Well, we should go say hello," you said, taking her hand and leading her towards the vendor. As you approached the family, you noticed the way Cliegg looked at Shmi, his eyes softening at the sight of her. It was clear that there was more than just friendship between them, and you couldn't help but feel happy for Shmi.

"Shmi," he nodded before looking at you. "Who's this?" he asked, eyeing you curiously.

Before you could introduce yourself, she beat you to it.

"This is Y/N, a friend of Anakin's. She's a Jedi.”

You smiled impishly not used to the attention you were receiving. You didn’t want to make a bad impression so you decided to play it off as nothing.

"It's nice to meet you, Cliegg. I'm just here visiting Shmi.”

He nodded at you before turning his attention back to her.

You watched their interactions with glee, seeing the spark between them as they spoke. Though they may have been just friends long ago, today they seemed to be something more, like young lovers finally reuniting. After a while, the two of you said your goodbyes.

As you made your way back to Shmi's hut, you felt content. The day had been a pleasant distraction from the weight of the world that usually rested on your shoulders. You were grateful for the chance to spend time with Shmi and see her happy. And you couldn't deny the small spark of excitement that had ignited within you at the thought of what could happen between Shmi and Cliegg.

As you walked through the door of Shmi's hut, the familiar smell of must and mildew hit you. But instead of feeling the usual discomfort, you felt a sense of comfort. This place had become a home away from home for you, and you were grateful for the chance to stay here with Shmi.

Shmi hung up her basket and turned to face you with a small smile. "Thank you for today," she said softly.

You grinned and said, "No need to thank me. I had a great time.”

She walked over to the small stove and began preparing tea. "I'm glad you could come with me. It's nice to have someone to share these moments with.”

You nodded, "I know what you mean. It's easy to get caught up in the bigger picture and forget about the small moments that make life worth living.”

As the tea brewed, you and Shmi sat down at the dining table. Anakin's drawings of creatures still hung on the wall above it.

"How did you two meet?" you asked.

Lost in thought, she smiled. "I was about twenty years old. He was twenty-five, I believe. He was handsome, strong, and an all-around good man. At the time, I had just been sold to Watto, who had me pick up parts at nearby markets. Each day, I would see him talking to the shopkeepers. I admired him from afar but never approached him until he came up to me one day.”

She explained how he had approached her, offering to help carry some of the parts back to Watto's shop. They struck up a conversation, and before she knew it, they were spending more and more time together.

"But then he stopped talking to me. I could never understand why until I confronted him. Apparently, his parents found out about us and forbade him from talking to me, or he would be shunned.”

You listened intently, sympathizing with Shmi as she spoke. "So I let him go. He was angry with me for not putting up a fight, but eventually I think he understood. He couldn't be with a slave like me," you furrowed your brow at her words. "Later on, he got married to a pretty girl, and together they had a son just a bit older than Ani.”

"I'm sorry," you said softly, not knowing what else to say.

Shmi smiled sadly. "It's okay. It was a long time ago," she said before taking a sip of her tea. "But seeing him again today brought back a lot of memories.”

You nodded in understanding and said, "I can imagine. It's hard to see the one that got away.”

Shmi chuckled softly and said, "I don't know if he was the one that got away, but he was definitely the one that could have been.”

You smiled at her words. "Well, who knows what the future holds? Maybe there's still a chance for you two.”

Shmi's eyes lit up at the possibility. "Do you think so?”

You shrugged and said, "Anything's possible. Just look at me. I never thought I'd be here on Tatooine, helping to free slaves and reconnecting lost loves.”

Shmi smiled at your words and replied, "You're right. Anything is possible." She finished her tea and stood up, saying, "But for now, I think it's time for bed.”

As you and Shmi headed to your respective cots, you gazed up at the skylight, watching the stars twinkle in the distance. The idea of a rekindled romance excited you, taking you back to the countless books you used to read. Your view of romance had been warped by the teachings of the Jedi, but your curiosity during your time away had led you to explore the world of love. From your findings, you knew how intense and deep it could be. On one hand, you understood the darkness of it, the jealousy and pain it could bring. On the other hand, you couldn't help but feel drawn to it, the idea of finding someone who understood and loved you for who you were. As you drifted off to sleep, you wondered what the future held for you and Shmi. For now, all you could do was be present in the moment and watch the stars.

As days passed, the relationship between Cliegg and Shmi grew stronger. He would visit the two of you at the moisture farms behind the town, paying special attention to Shmi. You smiled happily each time as she recounted her conversations with him.

"Then he told me how he wanted to take me out to dinner," Shmi giggled. "It's been ages since I've been on a proper date.”

You grinned, "That sounds wonderful.”

Shmi blushed, "Thank you, Y/N. I'm grateful for everything you've done for me.”

You shook your head, “Don't mention it. I'm just happy to see you happy.”

As the days passed, you spent most of your time with Shmi, helping her with daily chores, cooking together, and spending time with her new beau. You couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging in this place, and a part of you didn't want to leave. However, you knew that you had to move on. You couldn't stay on Tatooine forever, no matter how much you wanted to.

As you sat outside, gazing up at the twinkling stars, Shmi quietly joined you. She wore a wistful smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, and the light from the stars cast a soft glow over her face. The two of you sat in comfortable silence, lost in your own thoughts as you contemplated the vastness of the galaxy. The stars were particularly bright tonight, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder at the beauty of it all. The silence between you was peaceful, a welcome respite from the chaos of the world. Despite the harshness of Tatooine, there was a certain magic to it all, a feeling that couldn't be described in words.

"I have something to tell you," she said, her features displaying a mixture of apprehension and excitement. "Cliegg... asked me to marry him.”

You couldn't contain your joy as you watched Shmi's face light up with the news of Cliegg's proposal. Her eyes shone with happiness, and a smile that stretched from ear to ear graced her lips. It was a beautiful moment, and you felt grateful to have been there to witness it. You pulled her into a tight hug, feeling the warmth of her embrace as she squeezed you tightly. "That's wonderful news!" you exclaimed, your voice filled with excitement. "I'm so happy for you." Shmi's joy was contagious, and you couldn't help but feel happy as well. Anakin would have wanted this for his mother, and you were glad she had found someone to share her life with. As you pulled away, you looked into her eyes and saw love and gratitude shining back at you. This was a moment you would never forget, and it would stay with you for a long time to come.

Shmi's voice broke with emotion as she spoke, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. You could see the joy in her expression, the light that had been missing for so long finally returning.

"You deserve to be happy, Shmi," you said, reaching out to take her hand. "You've been through so much, and you deserve to find love again."

She nodded, acknowledging that she deserved it. "I'm just so grateful for you," she said. "You're a kind person, and you've done so much for me. I don't know how to thank you.”

You smiled,"Seeing you happy is thanks enough. Now, when is the wedding? I expect we have much to prepare for.”

Shmi smiled at you and said, "We haven't decided on a date yet, but I'll let you know as soon as we do." You nodded, happy to help in any way you could. As the night wore on, the two of you sat in comfortable silence and watched the stars twinkle in the sky.

…

The next few weeks were chaotic. Shmi was an emotional wreck, trying to prepare for the wedding and move from one house to another. Every day, you knew that your time with her was running out. By the day of the wedding, you planned on saying goodbye.

The ceremony was both beautiful and simple. Only seven of you were present: you, Shmi, Cliegg, his son Owen, his daughter-in-law Beru, C-3PO, and a hired priest. The vows were beautiful, acknowledging their tragic past and the enduring nature of their love. Following the ceremony, you all gathered in the Lars’s home below to eat and celebrate with traditional Tatooine food. However, by the end of the celebration, you knew you had to leave.

Shmi walked you out, with a wide smile still displayed on her face.

"Thank you for everything, Y/N," Shmi said, with tears welling up in her eyes. "I don't know how to repay you.”

You hugged her tightly and said, "You don't have to do anything. Just promise me that you'll be happy and safe.”

She pulled away and wiped her tears. "I will. And you promise me that you'll come back and visit," she said.

You nodded, "Of course. I'll come back and visit whenever I can.”

As you turned to leave, you realized you had grown attached to this place and to Shmi. You knew you had to depart but couldn't help feeling sad at the thought of saying goodbye. With a heavy heart, you walked away from the Lars home and returned to Mos Espa to plan your departure.

"That was admirable, young Y/L/N.”

You stopped and turned to face the voice. Instinctively, your hand went to your blaster. Before you stood a tall and imposing figure, his cloak swirling around him in the wind. Although his face was obscured by a hood, you could feel his gaze on you. "Who are you?" you asked, your voice steady.

The figure stepped closer, its presence almost suffocating. "I am a friend," it said, its voice deep and gravelly. "And I have been watching you.”

You tensed, not liking the sound of that. "Watching me?”

The figure nodded, with their hood still obscuring their face. "Yes. Follow me. Your journey is about to begin.”

Next Part

33 notes · View notes

ramblingguy54 · 2 years

Note

How do you think Turning Red improves over Brave? Since John Lasseter is no longer affiliated with Pixar. Brenda Chapman was sadly booted off her own movie due to creative differences with Pixar and Lasseter. Domee Shi was able to tell the story she wants to tell. I can relate more to Mei Lee than Merida who I can not sympathize. Turning Red is also a bit more grounded compared to Brave which is kinda directionless.

Turning Red improves over every thing Brave wanted to accomplish through its own daughter & mother conflict. Turning Red is a lot more introspective on Mei’s mannerisms being so highly learned from her mother, Ming. Domee Shi’s movie has stood out to many, myself included, and clicked so well because she didn’t have someone like Lassester breathing down her neck 24/7. Turning Red is easily a better experience to enjoy for myself, than what Brave could pull off. Which isn’t to say I hated Brave, far from it. Brave as a movie was pretty decent, but lacked that extra OOMPH to make it feel like an animated gem in Pixar’s library. Granted, not every movie has to be excellent to feel like a worthy addition to their franchise, overall. I liked stuff such as what Monster’s University brought to the table. It’s third act alone made that movie so worth watching and added more weight to Sully & Mike’s friendship, making their already excellent first movie even better.

Getting back on topic, Turning Red strikes every emotional beat that was needed to make it successful, given you feel the intimate experiences each person who helped Domee Shomi make Turning Red’s story as endearing as it is. Their documentary they released about behind the scenes added to my admiration for this silly, yet in-depth, exploration of a kid overcoming learned generational thinking having been present in not only her family, but much of their historical family culture, too. Turning Red studies those struggles of Asian family hardships in a humorous manner never shying away from painful underlying context of why Ming is controlling over Mei’s life. She means well in wanting to be close to her daughter, but this mind set stems from an environment Ming’s own mother thrust upon her. Ming was always told the “right” and “wrong” ways in living a happy successful life, which she tried her hardest in passing to Mei.

Brave touched upon traditional family values being challenged, but Turning Red cuts deeper into this core foundation. Mei faces an internal crisis of anxiety from one single question, “What if I end up growing apart from someone I once love and respected?”, brought on by a single conversation from Ming’s mother talking about how they were once close, until the red panda “ruined” their family dynamic. Turning Red doesn’t waste time in utilizing the ideas it wants to accomplish, which is why the third act seriously impressed me. There were plenty of writing seeds planted throughout its zany atmosphere that the dramatic turns it takes don’t feel jarring or out of place for their story they want to tell. Brave falters in this area for me because it had very cool concepts and ideas, much like Turning Red. Unfortunately, it got marred by development hell because of severe creative differences. You can feel it throughout the whole films run time. Honestly, it’s a miracle the film didn’t turn out worse. In a way, Brave stumbled so Turning Red could leap into the air in its own silly graceful endearing fashion.

#turning red #brave #don't hate brave but my God you can feel the production troubles throughout it #turning red on the other hand is simply memorable and highly entertaining #luca and turning red are some of my highlights to have come from pixar in these recent years #i want more kinds of stories like these two films have done!#pixar

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renzybro · 1 month

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Why Adding a Waterfall to Your Yard is Incredibly Relaxing

Finding moments of tranquility is essential for our well-being. One way to create a serene escape right in your own backyard is by adding a waterfall. The gentle sound of flowing water, the mesmerizing sight of cascading streams, and the lush ambiance it brings can transform any outdoor space into a peaceful sanctuary.

The Allure of Waterfalls

Waterfalls have an innate ability to captivate our senses and evoke a sense of calm. Their rhythmic flow and soothing sound create a natural symphony that lulls us into relaxation. As we immerse ourselves in their beauty, the stresses of daily life seem to melt away.

Creating Ambiance

A waterfall adds a touch of elegance and sophistication to any landscape. Whether you have a sprawling garden or a cozy patio, incorporating a waterfall enhances the aesthetic appeal of your outdoor space. The gentle trickle of water creates a serene ambiance, turning your yard into a tranquil oasis where you can unwind and rejuvenate.

Natural Stress Relief

The sound of flowing water has long been associated with stress relief and relaxation. Studies have shown that the sound of water induces a meditative state, reducing cortisol levels and promoting feelings of calmness and well-being. By adding a waterfall to your yard, you can create a natural retreat where you can escape the hustle and bustle of everyday life.

Visual Delight

In addition to its soothing sound, the visual allure of a waterfall is undeniable. The sight of water cascading over rocks and glistening in the sunlight is both mesmerizing and therapeutic. Whether you're lounging in a hammock or enjoying a meal al fresco, the presence of a waterfall adds a captivating focal point to your outdoor space, enhancing its beauty and tranquility.

Benefits of Adding a Waterfall to Your Yard

1. Stress Reduction

The gentle sound of flowing water has a calming effect on the mind and body, helping to alleviate stress and anxiety.

2. Improved Air Quality

Waterfalls produce negative ions, which help to purify the air and create a fresher, healthier environment.

3. Increased Property Value

A well-designed waterfall can significantly enhance the value of your property, making it a worthwhile investment for homeowners.

How to Incorporate a Waterfall into Your Yard

1. Choose the Right Location

Select a spot in your yard that offers both visual appeal and accessibility. Consider factors such as sunlight, proximity to seating areas, and the natural slope of the land.

2. Design Considerations

Work with a landscaping professional to design a waterfall that complements your existing landscape and reflects your personal style. Consider incorporating natural elements such as rocks, boulders, and native plants to create a harmonious and organic look.

3. Maintenance

Regular maintenance is key to keeping your waterfall looking its best. Clean debris from the water basin, check for leaks or blockages, and trim any overgrown vegetation to ensure optimal performance and longevity.

Adding a waterfall to your yard is not just about enhancing its aesthetic appeal; it's about creating a tranquil retreat where you can escape the stresses of everyday life and reconnect with nature. The soothing sound of flowing water, the visual beauty of cascading streams, and the overall ambiance it brings make a waterfall a valuable addition to any outdoor space. So why wait? Transform your yard into a peaceful oasis and experience the incredible relaxation that comes with it.

FAQs

1. How much does it cost to install a waterfall in your yard?

The cost of installing a waterfall can vary depending on factors such as size, materials, and design complexity. On average, homeowners can expect to pay anywhere from $5,000 to $15,000 for a professionally installed waterfall.

2. Will a waterfall attract mosquitoes to my yard?

Proper maintenance, including keeping the water flowing and avoiding stagnant pools, can help minimize the risk of attracting mosquitoes. Additionally, incorporating natural mosquito-repelling plants such as citronella and lavender can further deter these pests.

3. Can I install a waterfall myself, or do I need to hire a professional?

While some DIY enthusiasts may be able to tackle a small waterfall project on their own, larger and more complex installations are best left to professionals. Hiring a landscaping expert ensures that the waterfall is properly designed, installed, and maintained for optimal performance and longevity.

#water feature #water pond #waterfall

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

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Omg can I please get a hannibal x a shy girl reader ? Like he’s really possessive of her and she doesn’t know how to handle it but she likes him so they date??

Sorry this took so long, anon. I’ve been bouncing ideas around and this one in particular, I believe, fits your request. Y/n feels out of place among Hannibal’s fancy friends and it becomes even more obvious when he abandons her at a party.

Trigger warnings: social anxiety, sexual harassment, overstimulation

You and Hannibal had an agreement about large gatherings. He could only bring you to a party if you had a week's notice and at least three uninterrupted hours of gaming time prior to the event.

For this event, you needed a solid six.

One of the major Maryland universities was awarding a lucrative research grant to a student of clinical psychology, and every influential name in the industry was expected to be there. As a recent college grad with a bachelor's in business you didn't know what to do with, you couldn't imagine a less welcoming environment if you tried. You couldn't fit into their world and more importantly, you didn't want to. But the thought of being noticeably different in any situation was twice as terrifying. So you spent the whole week repeating your mantra; blend in, be quiet and make it through the night.

But Hannibal had different plans for you.

Halfway through the week, just when you'd pushed the party out of your mind, Hannibal presented you with a gift.

"What's the occasion?" You asked. You hoped that if you pretended not to know, it would just magically go away.

"I brought you something to wear on Friday." Hannibal answered, hanging the garment bag up on the bureau. "You know I'll take any excuse to dress you up."

He unzipped the bag and placed a black silk dress into your arms. "Try it on so I have time to get it altered if it needs it."

The material was cool to the touch and outlined your figure so perfectly, you felt even a little naked. Hannibal, of course, loved this. You were his own personal Venus de Milo. His goddess and his muse.

“Yes, that will do nicely.” He observed, looking at you hungrily.

“Seems a little short for a such a sophisticated event, doesn’t it?” You raised an eyebrow. The answer was yes and he knew it. He was very deliberate in everything he did. “I don’t want to come off the wrong way.”

“And what way would that be, darling?” He asked, not taking his eyes off your figure.

“I mean--” You searched for the right words. “It’s a gathering of the Mid-Atlantic’s most esteemed academics, I feel like, in a dress like this, I might be seen as, well, a...”

“A prostitute?” Hannibal finished, choosing a much nicer word than you would have.

You looked down. “Yeah. It just doesn’t seem all that appropriate.”

Hannibal approached you and lifted your chin slightly to look into his eyes. “Many Christian denominations believe that Mary Magdalene was a prostitute, yet she was Christ’s right-hand woman. She was first to see him crucified and first to witness his resurrection.”

“Dr. Lecter,” You smirked. “I never would have taken you for a religious man.”

“Goodness, no.” He shook his head. “But any reputable academic is expected to be familiar with biblical literature and its many contradictions and impossibilities.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“You are my divine feminine, Miss [L/N].” Hannibal said in a low whisper. “And I want everyone to see it. If they see a common whore, it would only be a reflection of their own jealousy.”

Hannibal's rationalization almost made you forget about your fear of being noticed. Almost. It all came rushing back when you arrived at the event. Not one person your age was in attendance. The women wore long, flowing evening gowns that reached the floor. The length of your skirt alone guaranteed that all eyes were on you. In a simple black silk dress, you looked the very model of high society. Silk was a sign of luxury, and Hannibal wanted everyone to know that you were a woman of means. His woman, to be precise. That was why he brought you to these functions in the first place. To put you in a dress short enough for any wandering eyes so see the smattering of love bites running up your inner thighs. He wanted everyone in his field to know that you were completely and entirely his.

You realized too late that this was all his little exercise in showing you off.

Everyone seemed to know him. He only knew a handful of people by name, and you didn't know anyone.

"And who is this delightful young woman?" A woman with a light southern twang in her voice asked, looking at you as if you were a caged animal on display.

"I wasn't aware you had a daughter, Dr. Lecter." The young man beside her laughed. "Or is she your side piece?"

Your eyes scanned the room for the nearest exit. It would be unbecoming to make a scene, so you plotted a way to slip out quietly.

“Darling, meet Dr. Charlotte Ramset and her TA, David.” Hannibal introduced, notably ignoring the young man. “Dr. Ramset, this is my intended, [F/N] [L/N].”

"I didn't realize she was also a ventriloquist!" The lady, presumably Dr. Ramset, joked. You'd heard that one a million times. She looked at you. "Tell me about yourself, sweetie. What are you studying?"

The lady was old enough to be your grandmother and reeked of too much perfume.

"I graduated last year." You said, quietly. "With a BA in business."

"See, there's a good woman." David added. "Only speaks when spoken to. They don't make ’em like you anymore, baby."

Hannibal tightened his grip on your hand. "On the contrary, David. See, Miss [L/N] is quite a bit like myself. She only dignifies those she deems worthy with a response. There's nothing wrong with being selective."

The lady laughed at David's expense and smiled at you. "Good for you."

You smiled back just a little, not ready to bring your guard down yet. "I've had to deal with more than enough. It's best not to engage."

"Oh, I know, I know." The lady said, shaking her head. "That's how it is for us educated gals. Always having to put up with pigs. See, I went to college in the sixties, so I can tell you some real stories."

This was a new experience. Talking to Hannibal's friends and having them listen to you was something you never considered possible. Now, you were one of the educated gals. You were just about to strike up a conversation with this woman, when the man next to her decided someone desperately needed to play devil’s advocate.

“I find that sexist, actually.” He cut in. “Not all men are pigs.”

The silence following his comment was deafening and you wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Whatever progress Hannibal and Dr. Ramset made breaking down your defenses was completely reversed and you were ready to retreat.

Dr. Ramset took a long sip of wine and adjusted her shawl. “David, none of us said anything about men, you drew that conclusion yourself.”

“I mean, look at you.” David gestured to your dress. You knew exactly where this was going and you wished you could just disappear. “You’re basically asking for it.”

Dr. Ramset glared at him. “David, that’s enough.”

“I’m just stating facts.” David crossed his arms. “If you dress like a slut, what do you expect?”

Dr. Ramset and Hannibal seemed to have an entire conversation through prolonged eye contact before one of them broke the silence.

"Charlotte, I hate to have to excuse myself so soon, but the president of the university is expecting me." Hannibal said, dropping your hand. Your heart hit the floor when you realized that he would be throwing you to the wolves.

"Of course, Dr. Lecter." She nodded. "Duty calls."

"I trust you'll keep an eye on my beloved [F/N] in my absence?" His voice hardened. The severity in his tone frightened you.

Dr. Ramset didn't seem disturbed or even surprised in the slightest by his gently threatening demand. "Of course."

"Thank you. And [F/N]?" He said, pressing his lips to the back of your hand. "I won't be going far. Please, try to have fun."

You tried not to look affronted, but you were going to have a long talk with Hannibal when you got home.

"I'm just saying what everyone is thinking." David continued, his inability to take a hint positively astounding. "Why don't you respect yourself enough to cover up, [F/N]? You have a boyfriend!"

Your eyes scrolled across the room looking for any sign of Hannibal, but he was gone. Dr. Ramset finished her wine and stared at her TA with the resigned disgust of a death row jailer.

"Any other thoughts?" She said, snatching a fresh glass of wine. You looked at her with a clear expression of discomfort.

"Come on, do you see any other woman in the room dressed so provocatively?" David's voice broke mid-sentence. "No. Because they're educated enough to know that real men don't care about their bodies."

The hotel clerk approached the group. "Mr. Hosmer, there's a call for you."

David narrowed his eyes. "Uh, what?"

"Someone is on the phone asking for you." The clerk repeated. "Says it's an emergency."

David shrugged. "Fine."

Just when you thought you would be rid of him, at least for a moment, he planted his hands on your hips in attempt to "get by" you. His touch was like that of an insect crawling across your skin; unexpected, filthy and leaving you squeamish.

"I'm so sorry about that." Dr. Ramset's words echoed in your ears, but you didn't really hear them. You were too focused on grounding yourself to process what she was saying.

“Dr. Ramset?” You said, quietly. “Which one is the president of the university?”

She glanced at a tall woman in a dark blue suit, surrounded by equally important looking businesspeople. You followed her eyes. “That’s Dr. Mary Hosmer.”

Your ounce of righteous fury was squelched in two seconds when the reality of having to talk to someone, especially someone of stature, set in. You looked sheepishly back at Dr. Ramset.

“Could you please ask her where Hannibal went?” You whispered. “I’d really like him to take me home now.”

Her face turned sympathetic. “Of course, [F/N]. Stay right there.”

You nodded. “Thank you.”

Dr. Ramset crossed the floor and politely greeted the president. You took a few slow, calculated steps closer, just to get in earshot.

“Pardon me, but, have you seen Dr. Hannibal Lecter?” Dr. Ramset said, casually.

“I wasn’t aware Hannibal had even arrived yet.” The president answered. “I haven’t seen him.”

Your eyes widened. You fought the urge to freeze, but you had to move back before Dr. Ramset knew you’d been eavesdropping. You heard everything you needed and rushed back to where she’d left you.

“Dr. Hosmer said he stepped out.” She told you upon her return. “He should be back soon.”

You tried not to show that you knew she was lying. “...oh.”

“Would you like me to stay with you until he comes back?”

You knew you were completely on your own. You didn’t know what was going on, but you had an inkling that it had to do with the president and David sharing a last name. All you knew for certain was that you couldn’t trust anybody.

“Don’t bother.” You shook your head. You took off for the door, but Dr. Ramset grabbed your wrist.

“I’m sorry, [F/N].” Her voice dropped to a low whisper. She didn’t look mad, but afraid. “But Dr. Lecter told me to stay with you. Please. Don’t make this harder for me.”

You recalled how seriously threatening Hannibal’s request was. She wasn’t answering to the president of the university. She was answering to Hannibal. You didn’t know whether to be scared or relieved.

“Right.” You conceded, stepping back in. “I’m sorry.”

The actual award ceremony was much longer than it needed to be, and it dragged on even longer knowing there was no reason for you to be there. Other than that, you awkwardly followed Dr. Ramset around the party like a lost puppy the whole time. You were back to your original plan: blend in, be quiet and make it through the night.

Just when you thought the party would never end, someone tapped you on the arm. You turned around, hoping with every fiber of your being that it was Hannibal, but it wasn’t. A tall woman in a dark blue suit stared back at you.

“I’m sorry to bother you, miss.” She said, apologetically. “But have you seen my son? I saw him talking to you and Dr. Charlotte earlier, perhaps he told you where he was going?”

You’d pushed that man completely out of your mind. You shook your head. “He left to take a phone call and I haven’t seen him since.”

A hand found your shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Dr. Hosmer, but I believe I saw the boy on his phone out in the lobby.”

“Dr. Lecter!” The president’s eyes widened. “How nice of you to finally join us.”

“...Yes, I believe he left right after making unwarranted comments towards my intended here.” Hannibal ran his hand down your arm lovingly.

“Well, boys will be boys.” The president chuckled. “Maybe you should teach your girlfriend not to wear such revealing clothes.”

Hannibal smiled and pulled you in protectively. “Whatever the case, I hope you find him very soon.”

Her phone chimed in her back pocket. “Oh, that’s him right now.”

“Wonderful.” Hannibal said. “[F/N] and I will be taking our leave.”

He hurried you towards the door, his hand tight around yours. A blood-curdling scream came from behind you. You looked back for just a moment and found the president hollering in pain and falling to her knees.

“Let’s go, darling.” Hannibal tugged at your arm. “They don’t deserve your presence.”

“Hannibal, I swear.” You said, once you were in the safety of the car. “If you killed every man who looked at me like a piece of meat, sooner or later, there won’t be any men left.”

Hannibal smirked and reached for his seatbelt. “Wonderful.”

#hannibal lecter #hannibal nbc #hannibal x reader #hannibal x you #anon ask #anon request

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missyasf · 3 years

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Game Of Hearts

| 1 |

↳ Summary: Your life is in monotonous tones of grey, day in, day out. Nothing matters besides your sister, the only thing you remember is seeing fireworks before waking up to Tokyo abandoned . Soon enough you are properly introduced to the deadly Borderlands where you must fight for your life in Games to survive. When things can’t possibly get worse soon division arises and rivalries are made. No matter what though, you are constantly plagued by a blonde who, no matter how hard you try, just can’t seem to go too far without.

↳ Pairing: Chishiya/Reader

↳ Genre: Angst, smut, thriller

Word Count: 11k

___| Next

Trigger Warning: ⚠️ much like the manga/Netflix adaptation this will be a dark fic which includes mentions of prostitution, attempted murder, child ab*se, sexual harassment, heavy grief and attempted suic*de among other things. Additional warnings will be added for chapters when triggers are brought up. Please read with caution if these are triggers for you or just skip all together!

Side mention: This could be considered a prequel to the current Alice In Borderland. I’m writing based off the Manga bc I was a glutton and couldn’t wait no spoilers will be present as of...

Escapism

noun

the tendency to seek distraction and relief from unpleasant realities, especially by seeking entertainment or engaging in fantasy ♡

You had known all about this during your short lifespan, as a child you’d often play pretend with your sister that you were movie stars living in a five star hotel rather than the shitty busted up apartment on the wrong side of town. Escapism came in, many forms. It was often a way for people to cope psychologically, simply because sometimes, facing the reality of your situation can be too much for one person to handle mentally.

Or at least, that was the topic of your lecture today in class. The human mind always fascinated you. Even at the young tender age when your mom died and you watched your once cozy little family fall apart piece by piece until nothing was left in its wake.

It was your fascination that drove you now for most things, why? Why, why, why? You always wondered what the motive was behind someone’s actions, not only thing but you wanted to understand them better, to try and sympathize. You were already fairly intuitive in nature. It wasn’t difficult to read people. In fact your line of work made it easy, you’d watch a man who would be excited to be with you reach for his left finger as if used to touching something. A wedding band perhaps?

The lowlife cheater was fairly common in a whore house after all. Or the man who had been pissy this morning behind you in line because you had decided to try something new on the menu and you weren’t fast enough, obviously because he was tardy and woke up late, his shirt unbeknownst to him was button the wrong way and his tie loose and even the way his hair fell were all signs of being late to work.

It was the little things you noticed in people’s facial expressions, the way they moved and spoke. You could read people like a book, and sure sometimes it was useful. But you often wished you weren’t so perceptive. It drove you mad knowing when a potential love interest was no longer interested through a simple text or a friend not wanting to talk by their tone. Sometimes you wished you could just blot it all out, still, you lived like this day in and day out, you were used to this kind of thing and honestly. Friends? Love? Your gaze dropped a little to your feet, the pumps you were wearing a jet black and the heel too high for any respectable woman to ever wear.

...It wasn’t like you ever had any of those in your life and you had struggled to come to terms with the fact that you could survive without that kind of support. Still...it made you envious, the couple happily holding hands on the sidewalk. The group of friends all laughing at a table while they studied. Oftentimes these feelings are muted, but when you’re faced with something you’ve always craved, those muted feelings suddenly become hyperactive in your mind.

It’s pathetic, honestly.

“How dare you! You disgusting slut!”

In this moment however, you were brought back to reality at just what was happening, you squeaked loudly as you dodged the shoe the woman had thrown at you. This was all a regular occurrence, you had a lot of regulars who weren’t the most amazing people but hey, money was money. But along with them they also left a trail which their wives and girlfriends always followed. And then they always blamed you instead of their partner for leaving them for a prostitute despite you never having agreed to anything such as that.

It really wasn’t your fault, you were just trying to make a living while juggling with keeping up your own education, paying your fathers debts, rent and still somehow getting food on the table. What part time college job could provide that?

Prostitution wasn’t a job you would’ve gone into willingly but given the past and your trauma that was already laced in it you had been learning that sometimes because of the trauma we experience, sometimes people go back to that same trauma and actively participate in it as a way of feeling like they’re in control.

That whatever happened before, would never happen again if you were in control. You weren’t sure if you qualified under this category, trauma came in many forms but the one most used as an example in your class was that a study showed that women who were assaulted often develop a kink for consensual non consent as a way of coping with what happened, except this time, it’s in a controlled environment where it can end the moment they want it too.

Again, you weren’t sure you fell into this category, but you often wondered if your line of work was intertwined with your earlier memories when you were younger, if anything it brought comfort to you. Much of it, blotted out now simply because your mind couldn’t take it. Trauma expressed through amnesia was also much more common than many thought, and it’s so small, so easy to miss. After all how can you be aware of something if you have no memory of it anymore?

“Security!” Your manager screeched, two of the bodyguards were already between you and the feral woman who was ready to gut you clean as she screamed hysterically, her husband...your regular....at her side trying to get her to calm down only for her to come to her senses and slap him clean across the face. You didn’t condone violence, but he did have it coming...

You weren’t about to justify cheaters, you couldn’t imagine the hurt someone had to feel that not only did their partner cheat on them, but it was with someone...like you...You had been trying not to put down your job occupation, sex workers were just as valid as anyone else...you knew you would’ve thought this way if it was anyone but you in this position.

You sighed as you ran your hands through your hair, watching the couple get dragged out of the tight space of the brothel, “Jesus christ....didn’t you say you stopped using perfume because of this?” Miki, your manager sighed as she crossed her arms. You didn’t want to say your manager was your friend but she was the closest you had as you’d often complain to her about most of your problems. Sex work often attracted broken people, it wasn’t something she wasn’t used to.

“Yeah, but apparently he never got around to washing his clothes…” You wiped your mouth on the back of your hand, “Lipstick stain,” You glanced down at the ruby pink color that stained your skin now, “Fuck...that did hurt.” You rubbed your sore cheek that was still throbbing from where she had first slapped it when she ripped the door open of the room where she got to see with her own eyes you riding her husband.

It had happened so many times now you weren’t even embarrassed about someone walking in let alone a partner. Miki gave you a lopsided smile as she patted your shoulder, “Guess that just pays for being one of the best here. Did you at least get paid.”

You nodded, “Yeah, I always make them pay in advanced but I was hoping to get a tip afterwards...He was a lawyer so you know he had good money.” You sighed, crossing your arms, you were well aware of his partner because a lot of the time he didn’t even come in for sex anymore. It was funny how humans work.

He often felt his wife was overbearing and you had suspected some sort of verbal abuse by the way he talked about her constant screaming. Truthfully, you don’t think he ever intended on cheating with her. He just wanted someone to talk to without being judged, you could relate with sympathy to that, but he unfortunately chose to walk into a brothel instead of a therapy clinic and this truly was the only inevitable outcome. Still, you hope if for anyone’s sake, he gets that divorce for himself.

“Hey I think I’m gonna call it a day. I need to get back to Nanami, she was wanting to talk to me about college applications.” You sighed as you rubbed your neck, ever since she had graduated high school she had been chomping at the bit to start applying for college, maybe to just get out of the house and into a dorm. You couldn’t blame her and if she did that it would lighten your load a little.

Guilt washed over you at the thought as Miki chuckled, “They grow up pretty fast huh? My brother was the same way, except the moment he found out I was a sex worker was the moment he called me a whore and we haven’t talked since. That was probably about five years ago,” She crossed her arms as she sighed, “Crazy how the things we do for the ones we love, never appreciate our effort...I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“If I’m not bruising.” You offered a weak smile as you nodded at her before going back to your room to get changed. Truthfully, you much like anyone else, often wished you could go to a world where reality wasn’t a concept any longer. Where you could lay out in the sun for the whole day and just soak up it’s rays with no worries or trepidations.

But sooner then later everyone had to face their fears. Even you, you supposed. But no matter how hard you fought your demons, they always came back tenfold. Again, you supposed your story was no different from tens of thousands, and yet you all live on regardless. Maybe it’s you who should be the one seeking therapy. Pulling on your jeans and the cropped top over your head before pulling the jacket over your arms and grabbing your bag.

The walk home was as quiet as ever, your hood over your head and earbuds any unwanted attention, it wasn’t too late at night, only eleven PM and your work had just been getting started but that had ruined the night for you and besides, you had already failed a test today, you could use the sleep tonight.

Occasionally you’d hear the sirens of a cop car passing by or a bystander shout, nothing out of the ordinary in this neighborhood. Walking up to the apartment complex you pulled the key from your bag as you unlocked the door. Quietly stepping insides as you shut the door before locking it once more. Your nose wrinkled at the smell of stale air mixed with rotten...something…

If anything, you were always lacking in something, you had been so busy most of the day that you never had time to clean anything leaving the house in a horrible state. Not that you thought this was much of a house.

Walking down the narrow hallway you opened the rickety door with a missing lock as you gave a brief smile to the small clump of bedsheets. Your sister was curled up and on her phone, eyes darting to the door with a hint of fear before she jumped up, “Y/n! You’re home earlier from night shift already!?”

You offered a smile as you set down your bag and nodded, sitting down on the mattress that laid on the floor as you replied, “Yeah, a coworker needed the extra hours so I let them cover for me tonight. Besides, you wanted to talk about college applications?” Your sister was under the impression your late night job was bartending at some hole in the wall downtown, where in all actuality you just went there to drink a few days and talk to the loud and sometimes obnoxious, but good hearted bartender who loved talking about his nerdy underaged friends that couldn’t do anything beside stay and drink soda.

It wasn’t that you didn’t think your sister would accept you, if she knew what you were actually doing. Fear, most times came in many different forms and this was one of them. You simply didn’t want to be judged, even by her. So nobody in your life truly knew who you were, and therefore, how could you hold the expectation for people to accept you into society if you were already self sabotaging yourself?

All philosophy aside, you were simply a lost soul, looking for your way in the cruel reality called life.

“Yes!” Nanami was chipper as always as she squealed, clapping her hands, “I…! I was thinking about applying to the university you attend! Maybe I'll get a grant and move into the dorms there? I already applied for several jobs, I’m just waiting on a callback!”

You offered a small smile as you hugged your knees to your chest, “I think you’d like it there, there’s lots to do around campus. But what will you go in for? The only advice I can offer is be sure it’s what you want to do.”

Nanami’s face faltered a little as she hummed, “Well...I thought maybe working with animals? I’d love to be an assistant surgeon in veterinarian? I know it’s a pretty...sad job but...I really like the idea of being able to heal such innocent things.” Your smile tugged into a gentle one at your sister. She was too tender for this world.

It had been your goal sense the day your mother died that you took care of your sister, it didn’t matter what happened to you. You could rot for all you cared at the end of the day, all you wanted was to look up and see your sister's smile and her happiness in life blossom. She more than anyone deserved it.

“I think you’ll be great at it.” You encouraged as you rested your chin on your hand, always happy to see her bounce in excitement as you yawned, your body was used to your demanding schedule but it was always more than happy to welcome a few extra hours of sleep.”

Hearing the door loudly slam close caused you both to jump, Nanami hurriedly crawled back in bed, pretending to be asleep as you frowned. Your dad must’ve come back home from wherever he was.

“Y/n! Just stay here! Can’t you talk to him later?” Nanami looked scared, she always did when he was around. But you weren’t about to stand down to the bastard any day of the week, you offered a weak smile as you replied.

“It’s fine Nami, I’ll be just a few minutes.” You replied, you knew that she knew, that was probably a lie. But you’d try your best, for her sake at least. But somebody had to put this guy in his place occasionally and it was always you. It results in a lot of screaming sometimes, other times he’d break down in tears or on a bad occasion you’d get shoved to the ground, a few times hit. Nothing major.

Walking out of the room you leaned against the wall of the entrance of the hallway watching your father stumble around in the living room, “Did you finally talk to the loan company?” You called out as you asked, not in a forgiving mood tonight. He had said he’d do this for two weeks in a row. The company that sank your whole family into the ground. The reason your mother couldn’t take it anymore and put a blade to her wrist.

Your father stood up, looking a little wobbly, obviously drunk, “Now listen here little girl I don’t have shit to own to you or anyone else.” You sighed as you tucked your tongue into your cheek, annoyance flowing inside you as you straightened up. You weren’t going to be bullied into being scared of this guy.

“Actually you do,” Your smile twisted into something more sharp, more bitter and sinister as you walked forward, “See, if you hadn’t of gotten involved in something shady like loan sharks we wouldn’t be drowning in debt and mom wouldn’t have killed herself because of you and both your daughters wouldn’t hate you. I know you drink away all our money in some pathetic attempt to escape from the cold reality that you fucked up your whole life and watched your family slip from your fingers while not even trying to do anything other then put us in further shit,” You closed your eyes as you tilted your head, “But the least you could do, is admit that. You owe us at least that for being a total fuck up.”

You opened your eyes to find pure rage brewing in your fathers eyes as you smiled once more, this time a false sense of sickly sweet tone to it as you shrugged, “Or you could live in denial, at this point, there really isn’t anything you can do to get anyone back ♡ ”

You had turned around, planning to tell Nanami that maybe she should go sleep over at a friends house today but you never got the chance, suddenly being slammed into the wall and flecks of spit hitting your face, “I am your fucking father! I deserve respect from you and your worthless sister! Do you know how much I provide for you both?”

Anger splintered through your veins as you grabbed onto his wrists, his fingers digging into your neck as you squirmed, “Like fucking what!? A shitty broken down apartment that your vacant from because you’re too fucking ashamed of yourself to even look at us sober!?”

Much like years in the past you weren’t surprised to hear Nanami cry as she rushed out of the room at the sound of you both screaming, “Stop!” She cried out, trying to break you both up, “Stop! Don’t fight! Why…! Why can’t we all just get along!” She sobbed only for your dad to shove her down making her curl up in defeat.

Alarm bells were triggered in your head at the sight of Nanami on the ground, she had never actually gotten hurt while in your sight and it was triggering something deep inside you as you watched him stalk up to her. Your hands shaking and rage boiling in your mind as you grabbed the closet thing you could find. An empty beer bottle on the table.

Your vision blurred and you don’t quite remember what happened other than glass shattering over his head and the brute force of you shoving something before blood was stained on your hands.

How did you end up sitting against the wall? Why was there….blood on your hands…? Your fingers trembled at the metallic sticky substance. All you could hear were Nanami’s sobs and cries as she frantically pushed herself away from the body slumped on the ground.

“You…! He…!” Nanami’s eyes brimmed with tears as you heard a loud boom making you jump, your eyes darting to the open window where….fireworks, big and bold crashed and crackled before you felt like you were sucked into a vortex making your whole vision black out.

Your head felt fuzzy and there was ringing in your ears as you groaned, curling up into yourself as the darkness beckoned you closer before you forcibly opened your eyes. You were laying against the hardwood floor. Beams of light streaked through the window and you could see dust particles in the air against the shower of sunshine that streamed in.

...Wait...Light? The thought had perplexed your head enough to make you push up from the ground, memories pulling into your mind as your breath became shallow, suddenly looking to the side where...you slumped against the wall. It must’ve just been a bad dream….your eyes flickered to Nanami’s curled up figure...a really vivid dream…? Something wrenched in your gut as you rubbed your eyes. What happened? “Nami…!” You whispered, forcing your muscles to move despite their protest as she whined.

After another moment she reluctantly opened her eyes, flickering around before she suddenly scrambled up, taking a deep breath as if realizing what had happened before, looking towards where your dad once was she frowned, “...I...What…” She seemed just as perplexed as you and if her face was anything to go by, last night had obviously happened, “Is dad…” She looked at the absent place of the floor.

Leaning against the wall your eyes darted around the room, “I guess so…” You silently felt relief at knowing your dad was still very much alive as you leaned back as you closed your eyes, trying to remember what had happened before everything went dark...oh..! The fireworks...had it been a celebration last night? Your brows pinched together, something felt...off...getting up you opened the door to the apartment walking out.

“Y/n? Y/n! Hey! Where are you going!” Nanami called out, quickly chasing after you as you frowned, cars were parked odd and there was no one out on the street...as in...at all...Something was very wrong and you couldn’t figure out what.

“Wow...it..must be a slow day…” Nanami felt a sense of discomfort at the lack of life as you both walked down the side walk, it didn’t just feel like a slow day it felt, apocalyptic. As if humanity just left on it’s own leaving nothing but an empty city behind. Cars were parked on the curb and a few even left in the street.

“No, it’s like everyone vanished...This is really weird.” You wrapped your arms around yourself as you frowned, looking around as you came closer to where typically it would be a booming part of the downtown but it was empty, just as everything before.

“Well, maybe it’s a national holiday?” Nanami rubbed her head, trying to make sense of the situation just as much as you, surely everyone wasn’t...gone...right? She looked around as she bit her lip, second guessing herself at all the cars that were vacant, “Hey Y/n.”

You paused as you looked at your sister, curving an eyebrow as she offered a weak smile, “What if everyone got raptured away like they talk about in christanity?” Your expression flattened as she giggled, obviously getting a rise out of you as you crossed your arms.

Raptured? Where? To heaven? “Wouldn’t it be fire and brimstone then if that was the case?” Nanami pouted at your words as you shrugged, snickering yourself at her expression, the tables now turned as you sighed, “I don’t think there’s anyone left in Tokyo...I mean, it feels like...we’d have seen someone by now...right?”

“Well…” Nanami frowned once more, a little disturbed at your words as she spoke, “There’s no way everyone could be gone I mean, where would they go? And how could we miss something like that...Maybe the police found us and now we’re under some weird simulation.”

Chills spilled down your spine as you shoved her making her whine, “Don’t say that! That makes me feel all weird…! I didn’t…!” You cut yourself off, you didn’t what? Murder your own dad in cold blood...you looked down at your hands, they were free of any blood but it still felt like something like sin lingered. Like no matter where you went, it would always be stuck to you.

You didn’t like this, not one bit. Briefly you felt the urge to go hunt down your dad, he was a deadbeat but you would never...you’d never kill him....Right?

“Well…” Nanami hummed her eyes scanning ahead before they jumped to the mall that was up ahead, “Hey…! If nobody is here...maybe we could make use of it! Come on! Let's go!” You yelped at her grabbing your arm before dragging you ahead. Cars were all parked and yet not a single person exited through the mall's entrance. Something just felt off! You wrapped your arms around yourself as you warily looked around the empty mall, “Nanami I really don’t like this!” You looked around, concern bubbling inside you as she ran ahead into the store, digging through the section of clothes as she giggled.

“Relax! I doubt any of this is real and even so…! Who’s going to stop us!?” She shrugged as she bounced in excitement, “Oh my god! I had dreamed of something like this happening! Now we can do whatever we want! Go wherever we want! Y/n!” She gasped with a smile, “Now we don’t even have to worry about money!”

“We don’t even know if this is permanent.” You looked around warily, not partaking as she began plucking off the racks, “Regardless of what this is, I don’t like it. I want to go back home, our home. This just doesn’t…” You shook your head, “This just doesn’t feel right.”

“Well you can feel that way!” Nanami clacked her tongue as she gave a childish smile, “But I’m gonna go through this whole store and get a new wardrobe so feel free to sit on the bench and tell me what you think looks good!”

Looking away you sighed, unable to pinch the anxious feeling you had away as you sat down reluctantly as Nanami went into the changing room. Well...at least she was smiling and she was happy...With each outfit Nanami tried out and giggled, you giggled with her and maybe things weren’t so bad after all…

“What a perfect day.” Nanami hugged you close as she sighed, yawning as you looked up at the sky in awe, you had seen a single star while living in Tokyo before, but now it was filled with constellations and millions of stars that stretched for miles. You could stare at it for days and days. The sun had just set a little over half an hour ago and you were ready to retire and find something to eat at the apartment.

You and Nanami had tried going to the food court but much to your dismay everything had been...rotten...soiled and ruined, meaning there was no point in trying to find anything there and you were getting really hungry despite devouring bags of chips you had both got at the convenient store, another thing that stood out to you was that there was no electricity...at all..

Looking back up to the sidewalk something caught your eyes...was that…! Light!? “Hey! Nanami look!” You shook her making her squeak as she looked up ahead, “It’s the hospital! They have electricity there which means there’s other people! Of course! Why didn’t we think to check essential areas!? Come on! Lets go! I wanna figure out what happened.”

“Alright! It sucks that this is already over but at least I can finally charge my phone, the battery is pretty low.” Nanami nodded in agreement as you both made your way up the road.

The walk wasn’t too far and you felt excitement fill you at the sight of the hospital all lit up as you walked into the entrance, a frown slowly setting on your lips once more as you walked past the receptionist desk and…! Oh there’s other people!

You felt relief wash over your as you ran up, there were at least seven other other people here at least! “Hey! Guys oh my god. I thought everyone was gone! What’s going on?” You asked, smiling bright in relief that you and Nanami weren’t the only ones left behind. Was this some kind of evac point or…?

Silence ensued and you slowly began to frown as you felt everyone stare at you as if you were insane, “Um…” You wrapped a hand around your arm, suddenly feeling as if everyone knew something you didn’t, “What’s going on…?” You furrowed your brows as you tilted your head, unsure of why everyone was looking at you like this.

Somebody looked like they were going to talk to you, a guy relatively around your age but a woman stopped him- his girlfriend maybe? “Stop, the less that know the better chance we have.” She said quietly though you still heard just enough. Fear twisted inside you as you took a cautious step back...The...the less you knew?

“Wow, you guys are assholes,” A girl suddenly whistled out, she was sitting in a waiting chair, a cowboy hat on her head paired with distressed jeans and...a bikini top? Strange but you’d roll with it if it meant getting answers. She stood up as she offered a smile, “Akari, nice to meet ya’. You folk must be new to the Borderlands huh?” She jutted her bottom lip a little as you frowned.

“Um I’m Y/n and this is my sister Nanami...?” You introduced yourself despite feeling confused as you raised a brow, “Borderlands…?” You echoed, what was that supposed to be? Other than Tokyo?

Akari gave a nod as she let out a brief chuckle, as if amused by your confusion but you sensed she had no real ill will unlike....your eyes checked to the couple that stood off in the corner on their own, “That’s what they call it here,” She nodded in affirmation as your eyes darted back to her in confusion, “To be frank with ya’, I don’t have a damn clue what's going on. Nobody does. But ever since you crossed the threshold there’s no going back, so I’ll be brief. We’re all considered outsiders here and we participate in games at venues such as this to extend our stay.”

Nanami and you looked at one another confused as Akari waved you over to the table in front of a TV, “Here, you’ll wanna put these on, it’s for the game.” She explained as you carefully picked up the metal bracelet, something about it felt ominous as you reluctantly put it on, jumping at the way it latched together and there was no getting it off now, “Word of advice, just don’t panic and you probably won’t die.”

“What?!” You screeched as Akari smacked your back, panic evident in your voice as you turned around to face her making her laugh again, this girl was insane! She had to be! “You’re…! You’re joking!”

Akari wrinkled her nose as she tilted her head, “Ah shit, I wish I was- Oh…! There’s the last player!” Just on que everyone turned to look at who had arrived, someone heaving breaths with their hands on their knees as if they had sprinted. You were mildly worried at why he seemed so scared but you had a feeling that was the least of your problems right now.

“Y/n what’s going on…?” Nanami frightened grabbed your arm as she hid a little behind you due to all these immensing strangers that looked like they were ready to feed you to the sharks, literally.

The guy walked past you both as he put on his bracelet, your eyes sharp as you watched it latch together automatically, your gaze jumping to everyone's wrists to notice you were all now wearing one. The TV suddenly lit up.

Game

You squinted your eyes a little at the sight of the screen, just what were you about to unwillingly participate in…?

Difficulty: 5♣

“The game you will be participating in is, Monster under the bed.”

A playing card? Monster under the bed? Your brows furrowed as you looked at Nanami who shrugged a little despite her concerned expression, looking just as confused as you. You could’ve made a joke out of this, surely it would’ve been easier. Maybe everyone would bust out laughing and you’d be at the end of a poor joke but...somehow you felt that wasn’t the case. Thus paying very close attention to whatever was on this screen,

“Everyone will be sectioned off into pairs by the number chosen on your bracelet, when the doors to the ward open you will have three rounds ten minutes each to figure out who is the monster under the bed that must be returned to its own, once the ten minutes is up you must hide before you are found. If the selected pair that is the monster is chosen correctly it’s a Game Clear. If the monster is not found by the end of the third round or if the pair fails to hide it’s a Game Over.”

Rules:

Once the doors are open you and your partner must find a hiding spot by the time limit

Both partners must be hidden. If one is exposed to the monster it’s a Game Over for both partners

There will be an X marked on the ground to place the monster of your guess onto.

You will have three rounds of ten minutes each to find the monster.

Any attempt to remove bracelets results in a Game Over

If the monster is not found by the third round a Game Over.

The only Game Clear condition required is for the monster to be returned by the third round.

What…

What!?

“Now the game will commence, you have five minutes to figure out who you have been paired up with before the doors open.”

Your mind was blanking as you watched everyone look down at their bracelet, hurriedly you lifted your arm as your mind blanked 2 looking back at Nanami her lips were already quivering as she sniffled lifting her arm in defeat as your lips dropped open, 5.

“Hey! Guess you’re my partner!” Akari grinned as she wrapped an arm around Nanami who sniffled, “Oh…” She looked between you both, “Oh! Oh don’t worry! We’re not the monster so I’ll make sure your sister lives! You should go find your partner.”

Your hands trembled unsure of what to do before you went to hug Nanami, “Whatever happens just stay calm okay! I need to go find my partner now!” You whispered, kissing her cheek as she sniffled while nodding.

Everybody was shuffling around looking for their partner now, you passed by a few people, 4, 1, 3...did you even have a partner…? You scanned around, your throat tightening a little in panic, there had to be a mistake! There were only 8 people surrounding you- you yelped at the tight grip that suddenly held your arm forcing you to turn around to be met with a white hooded figure, a lollipop handle hanging and earbuds in before sighing, “So it appears I’m stuck with someone useless.” The man concluded as he stood up making you back away a little as your lips parted somewhat indignantly.

How...how rude! You looked up, unable to fully make out his face but you could tell you didn’t like him one bit, “I’ll…! First of all I’m not useless! I’m just trying to understand what's going on! This is insane! We aren’t actually going to die from this, are we!?” Pushing his hood down you were immediately met with a snide gaze and cat eyes that leered at you like you were nothing more then dirt beneath his feet, long blonde hair pushed behind his shoulders and his bangs hanging low, suddenly a viscous side smile appeared on his lips, “Apparently so, otherwise I wouldn’t have watched half my last game get their brains blown out and the other half hung.”

You reeled a little away from the blonde, your face dropped in semi horror, unsure if this was just a sick joke or he was serious. You searched his face a thousand times over, but for the first time in your life, you couldn’t figure out what his goal was. You couldn’t figure out anything about him, except he was exceptionally cold, “Well I don’t suppose I have much choice to doubt you,” He said with an annoying sing song tone as he rattled his wrist that showed the bracelet with a matching 2 on it, “My name is Chishiya, just stay out of my way and we’ll both live.”

How arrogant! You scoffed as he walked past you, not the least bit bothered at your offense as you whipped around, glaring at his back. How come out of everyone you got stuck with the most…! Pompous! Arrogant! Ugh! You crossed your arms as you followed behind him, stilling secretly sending daggers into his back with your eyes as everyone shuffled into the ward.

Hospital beds were scattered around the room, a few closets and one large vent at the bottom right corner of the room ahead.

“Wait, what is this?” The first person to speak was a fair thin older gentleman, he appeared friendly as he observed the room around him, everyone looked around in confusion as you noticed what he meant.

Any possible hiding spot was covered by either sheets of metal or locked tight...How were any of you supposed to hide if…!? The rules mentioned nothing about solving puzzles to gain access to a hiding spot!

“Forget that,” Another man said with a sneer he was broad and a bit older, well into his late twenties at least, perhaps a gym coach? Or maybe a wrestler of some sort? He looked like he could break you and nearly every other person in this room like a twig, “We need to figure out who’s the monster. “ He cracked his knuckles as you leered a little away and nobody spoke for a second.

Of course, who would out themselves as the monster, more importantly, how does one even know they’re the monster? You could immediately feel tension rise as the previous, more patient man spoke, a little more collected, “How about we just check one another's’ watches! If anywhere it would show us on that! One pair should work on solving these puzzles here so everyone has a place to hide”

“Unless the monster is among us and it sabotages us so we all die by the time limit.” The girlfriend crossed her arms as she darted her eyes around. Truthfully you didn’t know what to believe, the wording on the soundbox was rather confusing as to just what were you looking for. Was the monster supposed to be in the group or it’s own entity?

“If that were the case it would’ve showed up on our watches, which it didn’t. So that won’t work.” Chishiya spoke matter of fact, his tone cool as his eyes gazed across the room before he walked away from the group inspecting various hiding spots granted you didn’t think he was about to help anyone but himself, if anything you were at least lucky that him securing a hiding spot meant it was one for you as well.

You looked at everyone in confusion, some arguing while others scattered to look for a hiding spot as the clock ticked down. You breathed in relief at the sight of Nanami and Akari both going for a bed to hide under. Your gaze finally found Chishiya’s form before following him, unsure of what you were supposed to do, if anything outside trying to figure out just what the monster even was.

You glanced up at the digital clock that stood above the entrance you had just come in from, it was already a minute in before you searched the floor where you found a red X in the center of the room, that must’ve been the...what? Offering spot? You cringed a little at the idea. Looking forward you peered behind Chishiya’s shoulder deciding to not think about that, it seemed the metal sheet that had wrapped around the bed and was sealed to the ground was locked by some sort of metal device…? Contraption? Lock?

“Isn’t hiding under a bed a bit obvious…?” You frowned as you crossed your arms, unsure as you looked behind your shoulder once more to where accusations were already being thrown in the group.

“The vent is a decoy to make you waste time, I already checked,” Chishiya replied, his fingers nimble as they rattled the metal, “And even if someone were to accomplish it in the time limit it’s the most obvious spot the monster would first check. Next would be the closet given it’s at eye level and the first thing one is drawn too when they walk into a room.”

Your lips parted a little in surprise at his assessment...obviously he wasn’t just overconfident, “And why this spot?” If he had really thought about all this in less than a minute then...did he have a reason for this spot? You now found yourself, slightly less annoyed and a little more curious as to what was going on in his mind.

“If the monster were to check a bed it would be after his eyes are drawn to the closet. Next in that line of sight would be the vent directly across it, which would be his next place to look if not his first and vice versa. The beds are all staggered throughout the room making them less conspicuous compared to the other hiding places, the bed on the far end of the room would be no good.”

Your brows furrowed in curiosity at his assessment as you watched Chishiya blow a piece of hair from his face, wiggling out one piece of the knotted metal, “It’s too far from the entrance where as the one in the middle is by average the one most people would start with, where as the first? It’s almost too soon in the start to look there thus making it the safest.”

“It’s them! They’re over there conspiring!” You both twisted around to watch the broad man point an accusing finger at you both as your eyes darted from him to the clock on the wall, which read at six minutes. A few other pairs, relievingly so was your sister had started working on a hiding spot while a few others stood around and argued.

Your face coiled a little as you replied, not appreciating the accusation to such a baseless accusation, did they not realize the longer they argued the less time they had to secure a hiding spot? “Someone who’s terrible at playing the minority would often be the first to point fingers. There’s only six minutes left before the first round is over and we need to hide. But if you want to talk about this then sure,”

You stepped closer as you crossed your arms, scanning over him before continuing, “Let’s talk about the chances of you being the monster, ever since you first came in you’ve been all twitchy and acting like something is wrong. Even when we first got paired up, you seemed a little panicked. Anyways,” You turned around as you spoke, “How do we know one pair is a monster and not one single person?”

“Eh,” Akari sat on the bed that her and Nanami chose as Nanami fumbled to work out the puzzle, she had always been good at those! You felt assured as your heart beat frantically at the idea of them not being able to get a hiding spot in time, “Let’s all calm down,” She gave an awkward laugh, “This isn’t a hearts game, we shouldn’t divide our trust. This is a team building after all which means this game should be making us work together, the last thing we need to do is throw that away on our own accord.”

“...Team building?” You frowned as you murmured having not been aware that this was some sort of game category...Hearts? Clubs? The memory of the playing card flashing on the screen appeared in your mind again, right...was that to stand for some kind of game genre? If Clubs stood for team building then...there should be no reason that the monster is any of you. Why would they even suggest that to begin with?

Then...what was the monster?

“One minute remaining.”

The lights suddenly began flickering, “Got it.” Chishiya yanked the last piece of metal undone as he pulled the sheet of metal off, everyone was now scrambling and the few who had not done their puzzle were now panicking. Getting down you crawled under the bed, your back flat to the ground as you inhaled sharply as you noticed the lights beginning to dim, “This is...uncomfortable.” You mumbled, trying to ignore being pressed shoulder to shoulder with a man you didn’t even know besides him having a god complex, “We should’ve went with the vent.”

“By all means, if you want to try and get yourself killed already. Go for it.” You turned to look at him, dark endless cat eyes meeting you as you harshly glared at him, why was he so condescending!?

You were about to snap back something before you realized it was completely dark and the door slammed open causing you to jump. Was your heart always this loud? You could see the heavy boots step against the ground making you unsteadily inhale, swallowing as you closed your eyes. You could only place your trust that Chishiya hadn’t picked a horrible spot.

More importantly your mind was plagued with worry for your sister, you had been so caught up you hadn’t even tried to help her yet...did she even…! You heard a sudden loud scream from two people causing you to stiffen as you looked up at the bed frame lined with wooden planks. You could only cower back down at blood suddenly painting the floor.

Your stomach suddenly churned as you covered your mouth. So he wasn’t lying. Chishiya however looked just as nonpulsed as he did when he first told you himself, his eyes blankly staring up at the bed frame as if this was just a regular game of hide and seek as people screamed as they were torn apart.

Or that’s at least what you assumed it was.

After an agonizing few minutes the doors finally closed and the lights flickered back on making you breath in relief as you waited a moment, could you even bear to face what was waiting on the floor? You winced a little before something caught your eye. What was with all this extra wood stuck in the frame?

Chishiya had already gotten out from under the bed and before you suddenly heard a few girls scream, your sister among them making you puff and breath as you scrambled from beneath the bed.

Standing up your mouth agape at the horrid sight of the female and the broad male that had been too focused on accusing others, they didn’t have...enough time...it looked like they had been completely mutilated, blood pouring on the floor and the smell made you want to gag as you looked away.

“Well, now what do we do.” Akari scratched her head, also not looking phased that two people had just been brutally killed. Your eyes stayed placed on the bodies before they slowly trailed to your hands, the memory of blood staining them still fresh in your mind.

“Well we have to figure out where the monster is?” The girlfriend of the couple spoke up, she looked around somewhat suspiciously, “But I’m not sure where we could find it? Maybe it has to do with the bracelets? Maybe there’s a clue hidden.”

“Oh what about in the cabinets?” The collected man from before offered as he went to search the cabinets, your frown furthered as you glanced around. Everyone was now getting along, still on edge but along at least.

Chishiya only leaned against the wall, his hands in his pocket as he rolled the lollipop in his mouth, his gaze the same steely one it was before as if he had done his job in securing his temporary salvation and was now done.

Or maybe he just didn’t know what to do? It was obvious his strength didn’t lie in teamwork, clearly. But then again, you weren’t sure what was going on, you couldn’t get a read on him. Crossing your arms you stayed beside him, your eyes briefly washing over your sister who was working Akari to dig through a desk together.

“Cabinets and drawers are too obvious.”

Chishiya’s eyes flickered to your figure, his expression just as cold if not...a little smug maybe? He said nothing in return as you continued, “If we’re looking for a monster, it’s obvious it’s a metaphor for something. Inanimate most likely,” Your eyes flickered around the room, inhaling sharply, why did it feel like the answer was right in front of you?

Think…! You glanced at the clock, only six minutes left. The rounds were really short…! “It’d be something small and inconspicuous, something that’s in plain sight….but easy to miss...and the game said it was a pair which means there’s more than likely two.”

“Three,” You glanced at Chishiya as he spoke, pulling the lollipop from his mouth, that permanent smug look on his face as he answered, “Two is what they want you to think and if you spend a round searching for each like they hope it’s game over by three.”

You rubbed your neck as you frowned, “It’s already the second round and we haven’t even found one…” You glanced around before you suddenly perked up, “Wait…!” Getting back down on the floor you laid on your back as you pushed yourself under the bed, “Chishiya! Help me get this thing out!”

Within a moment the blonde appeared as well, his eye sharp and keen as they noticed straight away what you were tugging at, “You think this is the monster?”

You looked at him as you raised a brow, “We have less than four minutes left on our second round, you have a better idea?” Chishiya said no more but helped regardless, successfully with the both of you maneuvering it around from beneath the wooden boards you managed to get it out.

Holding it up you looked at it, “It’s a poppet doll.” You turned to face him as you smiled in accomplishment, “They’re typically used as curses to place upon people in folklore. If anything is a monster, this would be it.”

Excited at your first victory you pulled out from beneath the bed as you waved it up, “Hey guys! We need to start looking for something similar to this! If not a replica.” Everyone huddled around you examining the doll before the microphone sounded, “One minute remaining.”

Everyone had immediately scrambled back to their hiding place as you ran to the red X, placing the poppet on it, that's the reason that had to be there right!? You’d just have to see, hurriedly you ran back to your spot under the bed. Making it just in time as the lights flickered off.

The door slamming open once more as you slowly inhaled, it had to work right? If not...then you were at a loss for what to search for and you were utterly screwed.

The boots stomped against the floor past the bed as you closed your eyes, unable to calm yourself. After a moment you heard a screech and something rip open before screams followed making you jump. Chishiya’s eyes were on the feet that stood by the closet that had been obviously ripped open.

You heard the sound of something wet and a gurgle before a body slumped to the floor and you could hear begging before something got snapped in half causing you to close your eyes once more...Did you make it angry!? Was that not it? Fuck. You had never felt this stressed before as it roamed around, passing in front of your bed as you tensed.

Was this your last moment alive? Truly?

Much to your relief, the door closed once more before the lights followed, flickering on, relaxing a little you sighed as you reluctantly got out from underneath the bed with Chishiya to see what had happened. Much to your horror it was the man who had been so kind this whole game and his partner.

The monster didn’t check anywhere in the first round, yet he did this round? You tried to block out the bodies slumped in the corner as you glanced at the red X, the poppet doll gone.

“Why- why were they killed!” Nanami’s eyes began to water as she grabbed her head, “This makes no sense!”

“If it accepts the doll that means we only need two more. What happened to them is irrelevant.” Chishiya stuffed his hands back into his pocket as you glared at him sideways, not appreciating his careless tone. You could deal with it, but you didn’t want your sister dragged into it.

Grabbing your chin you thought about it for a moment, “Well...the game said to return the monster to its own and…” You glance down at the X, was there some kind of unsaid rule that if you didn’t get all three of them on the first try that it would start hunting down players? “How would a mother feel if they only returned one of its children?”

“This thing doesn’t have feelings,” The girlfriend of the partners replied coldly, her eyes like steel of her own as she clung to her boyfriend, “It’s as he said,” She waved to Chishiya, “It doesn’t matter, we’ll be like them if we don’t figure this out.”

You glanced around the room, “Tell me this, if it doesn’t matter, then why did they give us all these different hiding spots?” Everyone was silent, all eyes on you as if your question didn’t make any sense, your eyes flickered to the clock that was nearing eight minutes, you didn’t have time to monologue, “No think about it. The monster never intended to look for us- that was never stated in the rules. So why did they give us all of these choices if we only needed one per pair? My point being, if we found one poppet in our hiding spot then...You get where I’m going with this? Chishiya.”

He glanced up at you acknowledgement as you curved a brow, your lips threatening to tug into a smile as you tilted your head, “How confident are you in solving that vent?”

He glanced back down and for the first time, you watch a cocky wide smirk twist onto his lips, “You’re lucky to have someone as smart as me here to be able to open it.” You tucked your tongue into your cheek as in annoyance as he sauntered over to the vent already getting to work, “As for everyone else, we need to open up as many of these as possible to find the other two.”

Everyone immediately scrambled to get to work, with only seven minutes on the clock this was...going to be difficult. First Nanami and Akari searched all the opened spots as you worked on another bed. Rubbing your head as muttered, “Shit...I never was good with puzzles.” You awkwardly hung your head in defeat temporarily, briefly letting your eyes shift to Chishiya who was fiddling with several locks, his gaze sharp and you couldn’t even imagine all the calculations going on in his mind. You were somewhat envious of what it would be like to be that perceptive to anything adhering to logic and solution.

“Aha! Found one!” Akari yanked the poppet from the top of the closest as Nanami covered her mouth, looking like she was gonna throw up being so close to so many dead bodies. You ignored the grisly sight at the second victory of the poppet doll. Akari quickly placed it on the X as you began to work on the puzzle once more, looking up at the clock. Oh no...Oh no there was only three minutes left!

“Chishiya! Hows that puzzle coming along.” You called out, trying not to sound alarmed but you could see the clear cut annoyance on his face as he continued working through the locks, “If you’d like to help while struggling on a novice lock feel free.” He replied condescendingly, not appreciating the pressure.

You rolled your eyes with huff as you finally managed to get it undone, feeling triumphant as you searched under the bed but there was no luck, “There’s nothing here!”

“Or here!”

Several people called out as well as you rubbed your head, standing up, “If the only other place that hasn’t been searched is the vent then maybe there’s only two? It did say a pair.” You felt a lump of anxiety well in your chest at the sight of the clock ticking close to a minute and half.

“Should we really take the risk?” The boyfriend asked as he rubbed his neck, concern on his face as he looked around, “If we’re wrong then we’ll all…”

You hadn’t even thought of that…

“...! Hey.” You turned to Chishiya who seemed to be trying to get your attention making you immediately come over, if he was asking for you it’d have to be for something important given there was nearly less then two minute on the clock, “Hold this right here.” He immediately pushed your hand onto the lock right where he wanted it, “This is a two handle mechanism meaning that there needs to be two people unlocking it. Push down and out at the same time.”

“Hide! Everyone needs to hide now!”

The lights were beginning to flicker as everyone scrambled to hide, stress evidently put on your shoulders now more than ever. You could only hope he was right with your life on the line, “Now!” You pushed down on your side, the lock sliding as you pulled out, pulling a piece of metal holding up the lock directly out as Chishiya did the same with his side.

The lock fell off as well as the metal of the gate of the vent, you immediately with no hesitation leaned inside it was dark and hard to make it out anything besides the steep drop off. So he was right, this was a waste of time for a hiding place.

Looking down you caught sight of wood before laughing in relief, “It’s here! Wait shit! Chishiya! It’s too far down in the vent, you’re gonna have to lower me down to reach it. Time?”

“Forty five seconds.” You felt unfamiliar hands on your hips lifting you up as you were lowered down, “We have time.”

You squinted trying to see as you reached down, “Lower me further! I’m not quite in reach,” Your muscles began to ache in your shoulder as you reached harder, growling in frustration, “Time!?” You were lowered a little further, the wooden poppet brushing against your fingers.

“Thirty seconds! Could you go a little faster?”

“Could you lower me a little quicker- Ah! Hey did you almost let go!?” You snarled back, grabbing the poppet doll, giving a good yank as it lodged in between the crevice it was in, “Get me back up! I got it. Time!”

“Twenty seconds.” Chishiya called back, pulling you up as you gasped, pain from the metal jabbing into your stomach evident as you were met with a darkening room. Setting your feet firmly on the floor your eyes flew to the flock fifteen seconds and your spot was all the way across the room….!

“Where are we supposed to hide!? We can’t get all the way there in time!” You hissed out running to the X as you dropped the poppet down. The lights shut off as the final five seconds counted down and before you could do anything you were shoved to the floor as you squeaked. Your body throbbing in pain and your mouth immediately covered as you were met with the coverage of a bed but neither one of you were bold enough to try and scramble beneath it as the doors slammed open.

Fuck.

Your whole body was tense as your eyes squeezed shut, you were just a little ahead of the X here, if this is all the poppet dolls...they’d have no reason to go further into the room...unless...Your hand squeezed tight around the wrist of the hand that covered your mouth as you tried to calm yourself at the loud thudded footsteps.

It was quiet for a moment before you heard more walking before the doors closed.

“Game Cleared”

The lights turned on as you fell limp against the side of the bed, Chishiya’s hand removed from mouth as you pushed your hair from your face, closing your eyes as you breathed in relief, “Holy shit.” Was all you could mutter to yourself, you had never been more grateful to breathe air in your whole life.

“I guess you weren’t that useless after all huh.” Chishiya clacked his tongue as you turned your head to look at him, raising your brows as your face contorted into something between insult and amusement.

You’ve only known this man for a half an hour and yet...something about his words, if you dug down deep past that smug expression of his, was this a compliment? Looking away you pressed your tongue into your cheek, trying to keep from smiling, “Yeah, and you’re still conceited and arrogant but, I guess you have a good reason to be.” You glanced back at him again but you could hardly hold his gaze, something in that brief moment was electrified between you both as you laughed somewhat sheepishly, closing your eyes as you looked away once more.

What the fuck was even wrong with you? If this was back before today you would’ve totally kicked this guy in the balls and went about your day.

“Y/n!” You straightened up at the sound of Nanami’s voice, your expression brightening as you stood up, quickly running to her as you hugged her tight, “I can’t believe that just happened…” She whispered to you as she pressed her face into your neck. You couldn’t either but, you were thankful you had survived this game. Whatever it was.

“Come on, let's get out of this room.” You tugged on her arm, no longer wanting to be in this death room despite knowing it was all over. Pulling her out you paused at the sight of the TV and a...register…? You bracelet unlocked as you took it off, tossing it on the table as you tilted your head.

“Congratulations Game ''Clear ``.''

“...Now issuing visas to those who survived the game…?” You furrowed your brows as you glanced at Nanami who rubbed her head in confusion. You grabbed the receipt as you looked it over with a frown before picking up the 5 of clubs playing card along with it. Odd.

“It’s how many days you’re allowed to stay now! Almost a whole week, that's a good score for a first game!” Akari called out as she patted your back making you jump a little.

Almost a whole week…”Until we have to play again to...continue our stay?” You raised a brow, deciding not to ask what happens if you refused. While you had many questions, you had a feeling you knew the answer to that one.

A part of you couldn’t even believe this had happened, or was it all still a dream.

“Hey…! Sorry for all of that in there,” You turned to see...oh…! It was the boyfriend of the partner, the gifrlfriend stayed behind looking brooding, “I’m Ryu and that’s my girlfriend Hiroko I was...ah…” He faltered a little, rubbing the back of his neck as his gaze flittered to his girlfriend who was glaring him down, “You should stop by the Beach- I...I think you guys would make good additions! Bye!” He hurried not even finishing his original sentence before scurrying off making you furrow your brows at what he even meant.

“The hell?” Akari raised a brow as she watched the guy run off, “Seems to me he wanted to chat more…guess we know who's really pulling balls in that relationship.”

Nanami suddenly snickered, covering her mouth as she giggled, “Hey Akari! Why don’t we stay together! We did really well in the game together!”

“Awh shit, if you guys really want me too!” Akari offered a quirky smile as you laughed, you had no problems with someone staying behind with you. Looking past Akari your smile faded a little at the sight of a white hoodie exiting the entrance.

“Hey- I’ll be right back!” You pushed past the both of them who paid you no mind as you pushed out of the exit and down the stone steps, not sure why your feet were making you chase after such an egotistical man but…!

“Chishiya!” You called out, making the man pause, he turned around, pulling the earbuds out as he glanced up from his hoodie, raising his brows in acknowledgement, “Um…” Why did you even chase after him…? You stepped down the last step as you wrapped your arms around yourself.

It was silent for a moment as you berated yourself internally for why you seemed so speechless all of a sudden. Chishiya however didn’t seem to mind, his eyes absent now as he stared up at the hospital, “I used to do my clinical rotations here.”

You were broken out of your silent thrashing of internal humiliation as you raised your brows, lips parting in curiosity as you asked, “You were a doctor?”

“No,” Chishiya snorted, that amused calico look of his on his face once more as he looked down at you, “I was a medical student. Training to be a doctor but that obviously didn’t happen…” His lips curved into a frown, his eyes cold once more as they looked back up at the building, “I came here tonight to see if anyone I knew would be here.”

“Oh…” You looked away, feeling somewhat awkward and unsure of how to reply to him as silence took over once more beside the occasional rustling of the wind in the tree’s, the urge to speak overtaking you to the point you couldn't resist, “Chishiya...I…” You looked away, feeling somewhat bashful, “We...made a really good team back there.” You forced yourself to look up at him as you offered a bright yet subtly shy smile, “If you want...you could stay with us…?”

Chishiya pulled the lollipop stick from his mouth, letting it drop to the ground as he spoke, “No thanks.” You turned to him in surprise as you frowned a little, you shouldn’t have expected anything less…

“Oh...I understand.” You offered a weak smile as he turned his back on you and began to walk once more, “I just have one more question,” You called out causing him to pause, “...Do you by any chance know about a place called the Beach?”

Note: Whew...! As a lurker in the Alice in borderland fandom I saw a lot of people complaining about the lack of Chishiya fics so I decided to volunteer myself and take on for the team to write a series for this little blonde fucker so PLEASE let me know your thoughts and I hope you enjoy!! Also

#alice in borderland #aib #alice in borderland imagine #alice in borderland x reader #chishiya x reader #chishiya x reader smut #shuntaro chishiya #shuntaro chishiya x reader #aib imagine #aib x reader

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dongofthewolf · 3 years

Text

Everything in Between- Chapter 1

Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader

The reader stumbles across Abby one sleepless night and can’t help but become an absolute stuttering mess.

Warnings: swearing, mild violence, fluff, bad grammar lol

I’m extremely new to this so please be gentle T-T

Read chapter 2 here !

The first thing that you always noticed about a person was their eyes (it’s cliché you knew that, but you really couldn’t help it), and anyways… that was the first thing you noticed about her. The first time you saw her it was pouring outside; the kind of pouring where it got dark at 5pm and the reflections in the puddles on the pavement—partly distorted by the heavy raindrops—looked like fun house mirrors. It was brief and she only passed you for a second, but the clouds that were concealing the sun left a shadow of darkness in the air and in her eyes. Making her regularly blue eyes a much darker shade from the lack of sunlight, a blue that looked like the part of the ocean you can see from the shore but avoid from fear you may drown in it.

You had forgotten your umbrella that day leaving your hair drenched, you were shivering from the cold and desperately made your way to your room as quickly as you could. But as you hastily walked with your head down in an effort to conceal your eyes from the raindrops, you bumped into her. She was a lot taller than you and was incredibly built, she had her long blonde hair in a neat braid and was wearing some simple cargo pants with a grey sweater. She was also carrying some bags but you were walking too fast to really get a good look at them. Although this was the first time you had seen her and it was only for a moment you’ll never forget those eyes, those dark blue eyes that made it seem as if she was hiding from something. That was the first time you saw her but it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

It was stormy again but at least today you were inside, the howling of the wind against the windows woke you up and when you glanced at the digital clock it read 2:30. You always had trouble falling asleep again once you were woken from your slumber, and found that you required at least an hour before you could actually sleep again. Since it was so late though you figured that the cafeteria would be empty and you could grab a cup of tea before going back to bed, you also often sat in the commons room to read because it’s pretty isolated from the rest of the place and very seldom did anyone else sit there too.

You pulled a black crewneck over your messy hair and put on some slides before making your way down to the cafeteria, the hallways leading up to it were lit with fluorescent lights that burned your eyes when you stepped out of the darkness of your room. It was surprisingly silent (with the exception of your footsteps of course) and after living in a place constantly occupied by so many people for so many years, it was a rare occasion to find some peace and quiet; an anomaly that still surprised you to this day.

The cafeteria was nothing special, there were 30-40 folding tables lined up near the big tear stained windows and next to the kitchen there was a communal fridge with a basket of fruits no one dared to touch. Cabinets lined the whole half of the room and you reached into the second last one to grab some chamomile tea before setting the kettle on the stove.

You sat by the windows while you waited for the water to boil when you saw a strike of lightning, it was purple and quickly followed by a large cracking noise which weirdly enough didn’t quite startle you. You supposed that after all these years of living in a place that is universally known to rain more than anything, you become accustomed to the crashing sound of thunder and the sudden flashes of lightning. Plus, it’s a lot better than the sound of guns going off or those dreaded clickers that haunted your nightmares. So consumed by your thoughts you hadn’t even noticed the whistling noise coming from the tea kettle. It wasn’t until you heard an unfamiliar voice that nearly made you leap out of your skin, you turned around and standing there was the very girl you had briefly seen that rainy afternoon just three days ago.

“You gonna get that or should I?” She was wearing some grey sweats and a khaki tank top that showcased her huge biceps, you admired her toned forearms, unable to form any combination of words that wouldn’t make you sound like a complete and utter idiot. She must have noticed you staring though because she repeated the question with a raised eyebrow and a small smirk. “Hello?” She asked.

“Right… sorry” you immediately responded. You laughed nervously and hurriedly ran to the tea kettle, a small blush forming on your cheeks as you removed it from the stovetop. While pouring the hot water into a small cup you quickly threw the tea bag in so she wouldn’t notice your shaking hands, as you threw the bag in you quietly ignored the quickening beat of your heart. At this point you couldn’t tell if the shaking was because you were startled by her sudden presence or if you were nervous because of the literal goddess staring down at you.

“Sorry again about that I was just distracted.” You looked up and she was studying you with those same blue eyes, the intensity from her gaze made you ramble on.

“Did you want some tea? I accidentally boiled too much water, I guess eyeballing measurements just isn’t my forte.” You chuckled again, clearly flustered by this gorgeous woman looking at you in your damn pajamas. Somehow even at two in the morning she managed to look effortlessly beautiful and you couldn’t help but be fiercely jealous of her overwhelming confidence. Up until now, no one had ever had this effect on you, then all of a sudden this stranger looks at you once and BOOM you’re a stuttering mess.

“Sure, does this place have any chamomile tea?” She said nonchalantly while grabbing a chair from the stack in the corner. She sat in it backwards with her arms resting on top of the chair and you flashed a glance at her toned forearms “holy shit is she strong” you thought.

“Yeah, I’m having some too actually.” You poured out the tea and sat down across from her, this was the first time you had actually been able to really see her and you were in awe of how gorgeous she was; Her hair was in a simple braid which had a few strands astray (most likely from sleeping in it) and she had these adorable freckles that spread from her face all the way down to her arms. She was staring at her cup with those same intense blue eyes—this time the fluorescents adding a tint of green to them—she looked like a statue that was literally sculpted by the Gods and you couldn’t take your eyes off of her. As you looked down at her calloused hands that were cupping the warm ceramic cup, you noticed that they were a lot larger than your own, but they also had a delicacy to them; the kind of delicacy that deserved to be in a museum. Every aspect of her was absolutely perfect and never in your life had you seen someone like her, you were struck with this sudden need to know everything about her (even though she didn’t really seem like the chatty kind). Consumed by the essence of her beauty and strength you almost hadn’t realized that she was talking to you, and “oh God” You thought “I was staring again”.

“So uh… what’s your name?” It was obvious she was trying to fill the silence but there was a softness and kindness to her words, almost as if she was trying to appear harmless.

“Y/n and yours?” You replied in the calmest way that you could even though your hands were shaking like crazy, you gripped on to your cup for dear life hoping she wouldn’t notice. You were always so terrible around new people and now with the combination of not just a complete stranger, but an incredibly charming and attractive stranger? You were surely doomed.

“It’s Abigail but you can call me Abby, most everybody does.” She was clearly not oblivious to your nervous manner (and your staring) but she pretended not to notice, probably to spare you the embarrassment. Having people stare at her was nothing new to Abby and honestly, she liked it. She felt powerful and strong when men were intimidated by her, but the way y/n was staring at her was different. It certainly wasn’t fear because despite the shaking of y/n’s hands that she tried so desperately to conceal, she didn’t look at Abby with fear “Perhaps it was admiration?” Abby thought. But she soon nudged any ideas of romanticism from her mind figuring that y/n was probably into those douchebags who act cocky and disrespectful but are too chicken to ask a girl out; Abby despised disrespectful people. However, if there was anything that Abby hated more than disrespectful assholes, it was embarrassment. Abby’s confidence was one of her greatest strengths, it was like a shield she put forward that helped her endure the incredibly misogynistic environment she lived in. She figured that the staring was just intimidation. Abby was quite confident in her ability to judge a person’s character and brushed any thoughts of attraction to the back of her mind, not wanting to risk the possibility of rejection or being wrong.

“So what brings you to the cafeteria at this fine hour? Besides the tea of course.” She smirked, her smile was so infectious that you couldn’t help but smile as well.

“I woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep, figured I’d drink some tea and read for a bit in the commons room. Better than laying in my bed and staring at the ceiling for an hour I guess.” You stopped yourself before you could say something stupid or embarrassing. “What about you?”

“I just got here a couple days ago and I’m a pretty light sleeper which normally would be fine, but that damn thunder won’t shut the hell up!” She pointed her fist to the sky dramatically and you couldn’t help but giggle, she looked at you with a smile. “They stationed me here to do some work and I haven’t had much time to myself, they gave me some time off tomorrow and now thanks to this storm I’m gonna spend it passed out in my bed.” She paused, contemplating her words before continuing. “I’m glad I met you though, late nights are much better with company.” You could feel a heat trickle to your cheeks. “So what are you reading?”

“Pride and Prejudice” You answered excitedly. “It’s my favourite book, I’ve read it like a hundred times. I guess I’m just a sucker for cheesy love stories” She grinned.

“It was good but Elizabeth? She was way out of Darcy’s league, I mean yeah she had pride but Darcy was prideful and snobby.” You giggled at her response and the thought of this tough and brawny girl reading Jane Austen. “I mean, if you’re gonna have a terrible character trait just choose one. Not both!”

“Okay… But you gotta admit they were perfect for each other” You added. “Their weaknesses complimented each other and then their strengths the same. It’s like they were meant to find each other, and I mean just the thought of something like that gives me hope you know?” She looked at you with a raised eyebrow, urging you to elaborate. “Soulmates, I mean… just the thought of there being one single person on this entire Earth who was put here alongside you, the perfect match who’s strengths compliment your weaknesses and vice versa makes me feel some sort of hope.” You felt yourself getting carried away and decided to let her speak. “What can I say, I guess I’m nothing if not an optimist.”

“I get what you mean but I feel like that’ll just set you up for disappointment. There's so much more to life than just love and finding your ‘soulmate’. There’s thunderstorms, books, good food, there’s family and friends, and strangers that make you tea.” she glanced at you and your heart skipped a beat “this is insane!” You thought “Not only is she totally gorgeous, but she’s smart and funny? God she’s so perfect I think I might melt where I stand”

“Fine, fine, you got me there.” You smiled and was struck with this sudden feeling of security that you’d never felt before Abby, and though you’d never really admit it, you realized that all this time living in a facility had made you really lonely. Speaking to Abby was seriously the first time in this place that you weren’t thinking about the end of the world or crying over lost family and friends. At this small fold-out table in this dull and dreary cafeteria, you felt the first modicum of safety that you hadn’t felt for a really long time, and it was all because of her. You noticed that your mind had wandered off again of course but Abby’s mind seemed to be elsewhere as well, she had an almost nervous or unsure look on her face.

“Hey, so I know you said you were gonna go read in the commons room but do you think you could ditch Elizabeth and Darcy for a bit? I haven’t really gotten a chance to see this place and I was hoping you could maybe give me a tour.” Abby asked in a casual tone, hoping y/n wouldn’t notice the slight nervousness in her voice.

“Of course! I’d love to show you around, though there isn’t much to see other than empty halls and abandoned rooms” You replied enthusiastically. You were ecstatic, she was the first person you had really connected with in a while and you jumped at the opportunity to spend more time with her.

“I don’t mind, as long as I have you to keep me company.” She winked at you and smiled warmly. You felt your heart skip a beat again “Is Abby flirting with me?” You thought. “Nah, probably not” She was the coolest and most beautiful girl you’d ever seen. What would she see in you? Plus Abby probably isn’t even into girls, she’s just being friendly.

You walked her through each of the empty halls and corridors while you guys chatted about books, friends, family, life before the outbreak, and everything in between. You even traded embarrassing dating stories in which you both had to stifle loud outbursts of laughter so you wouldn’t wake up the rest of the facility. While you were speaking about your various dating escapades you decided to sprinkle in a story about a girl to see Abby’s reaction.

“Okay okay I got a good one, so once I was dating this girl and we actually moved in with each other like a month into the relationship but that’s not important. Anyways, so I had this cat right and when we broke up a few months later and she moved out, she took the cat!” You both bursted out laughing. “She literally stole my cat and I was so pissed that I keyed ‘thief’ into her car.”

“Remind me not to piss you off y/n, you’re a vengeful one.” Abby chuckled and responded casually. You were slightly unsatisfied, she hadn’t reacted to that statement (or any of the subtly gay references you made) at all and you couldn’t tell if it was because she liked girls or because she didn’t care. It didn’t really bother you that much though because this was the most fun you had had in a long time. When you were laughing and talking with Abby all the thoughts about your family and impending doom—thoughts that were once constant—had begun to fade away. All that mattered now was Abby, she was the best thing that had happened to you in a really long time and you were so grateful to have met her.

By the time you guys had decided to depart it was six in the morning, Abby walked you back to your room and you couldn’t help but feel like every atom in your entire body was vibrating.

You had spent an entire night with this amazing girl who was now the first friend that you’ve had in a while, your cheeks were bright red and your heart felt like it was shaking. When you laid your head on your pillow to sleep you couldn’t shake the thought of those brilliant blue eyes, and that clever, knowing grin that made you melt. God, and you couldn’t forget those gigantic biceps, you just wanted her to crush your skull with those beautiful, freckled arms. You adored her, and as you drifted off into a deep and peaceful slumber you dreamt of the most incredibly gorgeous, funny, charming, and intelligent girl you had ever met: Abigail Anderson.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson imagine #abby anderson #abby tlou #fluff #fxf #tlou #tlou2 #the last of us #the last of us part 2 #the last of us imagine

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tick-tick-moo · 3 years

Text

The Stuff of Fairytales

BBC Sherlock

Pairing: Sherlock/Reader, but not necessarily romantic.

On Ao3, on Wattpad

o/o/o

221B Baker Street was made out to be the stuff of fairy tales on paper. The Home of Sherlock Holmes!

It actually wasn’t all that impressive once you saw it in person. It was cozy, and a nice place to live, but nothing like what you would have expected. Then again, your main source of information was the news, and when has that ever been reliable?

“Are you a client?” The landlady, Mrs. Hudson, said as she opened the door.

“Uhm, sure,” You replied.

“Right up here, then.” She led you up a flight of stairs, offering tea(which you declined) on the way. You reached a door at the top of the stairs and Mrs. Hudson knocked twice before opening it.

“Boys, you’ve got a client!” She announced before turning to you.

“Right in here, dear,” She said as she led you into the room. It was a nice flat, with a view of the street below through windows on the wall across from the door. To the left there was a fireplace with two chairs placed around it, as well as a cluttered coffee table to the right and a small dining table by the window.

“Finally!” You heard a man yell. Both of the chairs around the fireplace were occupied, one with a man that was clearly Sherlock Homes(the one who spoke) and the other with his partner, John Watson. Yes, he had that military look to him, while Sherlock seemed much more chaotic. He stood up and pulled a chair from the table before sitting back down in his own chair and looked at you expectantly.

“Sherlock, it’s barely 8 in the morning, how can you be so impatient?” John scolded.

Sherlock ignored him and you moved to sit in the chair he placed for you.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” You heard Mrs. Hudson say as she left. “You know where to find me if you need anything,” She added before leaving.

That left you with both men waiting for you to say something. The way Sherlock was looking at you, you could almost see the gears turning behind his eyes.

“You’re doing the thing,” You said abruptly. John’s eyes widened a moment while Sherlock smirked.

“Yes, I am” He confirmed simply.

“Tell me” You said determinedly, knowing he would know what you meant.

“You’ve come here for a case, but it’s not something that scares you. It intrigues you. You’re studying psychology and want to get your doctorate, but you’re too young for that. But ...” He paused.

“Honorary?” He asked. You simply nodded, grinning widely. John looked confused.

“What’s happening?” John asked after a moment of silence as you and Sherlock simply stared at each other, thinking. Another moment passed before you finally looked at John.

“I’m Dr. L/N, but you can call me Y/N. I am hardly of age to have completed the years needed for a bachelors, let alone a doctorate, but I got an honorary one for my work in psychology and other areas of study. It seemed redundant to go to class when I could be teaching it," You added quietly before looking up to Sherlock.

"Most people don’t pick up on the part, Mr. Holmes. But you’re not most people, are you?” He had gotten everything right, but there was still one thing he didn’t know yet. John’s eyes went wide when he heard your name and put the pieces together, but Sherlock spoke before he could say anything.

“Did my brother send you?” He asked, exasperated and knowing you weren’t a regular client.

“No, but I’m sure Mycroft knows I’m here by now. Have you really not heard of me, Mr. Holmes?” You asked curiously.

“Should I have? And call me Sherlock.” He replied.

“Sherlock, do you really not know who she is?!” John exclaimed, looking between you and the detective in shock. “She’s a psychologist and they teach army doctors about her, if that helps you start to understand the extent of her studies. She is the best in her field and half a dozen others.” John turned to you suddenly.

“It’s a pleasure meeting you, by the way.” He stood up and extended his hand and you did the same.

“The pleasure is mine.” Your eyes caught something over his shoulder and you walked over to the fireplace mantel.

“Is that a skull?!” You asked excitedly. You caught sight of the kitchen to your left and you ran in before anyone had a chance to answer.

“Amazing,” You said, all semblance of societal convention out the window. You bent down to examine samples in the microscope that seemed to be waiting for you. You glanced around the kitchen and settled your eyes on the fridge. You opened it and found a pair of hands, no longer attached to their owners. You looked closer and found that each of the fingers had a band around it, which would block blood flow if there was any. You gasped, looked up, and called over your shoulder.

“Are you testing the effects of sustained and continuous pressure on human digits after death and severe trauma?!” You asked, turning around, closing the fridge, and walking to the two men leaning on the door frame, who were watching you with curiosity.

“Yes” Sherlock said, staying quiet and examining you.

“Fascinating one, aren’t you? My turn,” You said taking a closer to him and examining his face. Sharp cheekbones and blue eyes, and his brain was still his most beautiful trait.

“Genetics, obviously. Environment influenced, but he’s a genius.” You said, more to yourself than anyone else. Then, you pushed him softly from the door frame and into the living room so you could circle him, poking his arms and torso as you went.

“Sociopathic tendencies, but a little therapy would do him well,” you mumbled, completely ignoring Watson as well as any personal bubble that Sherlock might’ve had. You didn't notice, but Sherlock was watching you curiously as well. John was shocked that Sherlock would let anyone touch him, let alone examine him as you were.

“Alright!” You said loudly as you looked up and stood up straight again. You shepherded them back by the fireplace in the living room.

“Uhm, what was your case, again?” John asked, sitting back down into his chair.

“Oh! That’s just a detail, isn’t it?” You said as you looked back at Sherlock with amazement. He was still putting together your pieces, figuring out your story with his blue eyes trained on you. John was still looking at you expectantly.

“Fine, you need a case. Then, Sherlock, you are my case." You sat in the chair and clasped your hands in excitement before speaking again.

"Now, tell me about your mind palace.”

It was a couple hours before an actual client came in and you still hadn't learned enough about the man. He didn't seem to mind your prodding and you greatly appreciated that. This would've been much more difficult if he had argued with you, but he didn't. With everything you learned, you started to reconsider your first impression of 221B Baker street.

Maybe it was the stuff of fairy tales, simply because of the mind of the Detective who lived in it and the Doctor who accompanied him.

#bbc sherlock #sherlock holmes #john watson #mrs. hudson #sherlock x reader #sherlock & reader #one shot #ficlet #221b baker street #221b ficlet #reader #you #fanfiction #reader-insert

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thosewickedlovelies · 3 years

Text

When Missions Go Right

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x afab!Reader

Rating: E for Explicit

Summary: After Frankie makes everyone believe he was killed during a mission, hours later you're still shaken from the reveal that it had been a ruse. You can't stand the idea that he might have never known how you felt about him, so later that evening, you go and check on him.

Tags: SMUT; minimal angst despite the summary lol; unprotected PinV sex (pls wrap it up irl); oral (f receiving); they briefly drink alcohol but are not drunk; swearing

Word count: 6,794 lmfao

A/N: Reader’s nickname is Mosquito- I wanted a nickname and my brain got stuck on this one once I thought of it sorry. It’s explained :)

---

You sit in your hut at your team's temporary camp in the jungle, fidgeting. You don't know why you’re so torn- there’s nothing weird about checking on a teammate after a stressful mission, and you and your boys had done it for each other countless times before. This time is different, though. This time had shaken you more than any other incident, after you thought Frankie had- No. You exhale.

Just thinking of him emerging after the mission that day, appearing when you thought he was lost, causes another swell of emotion to rise in you, hot tears filling your eyes. You clap your hands over your mouth, force yourself to take deep, steadying breaths. Frankie had looked so surprised at everyone's reaction to his reappearance: stunned, relieved tears and a five-person hug that had pulled everyone to the ground in a tangle, with himself at the center. You don't know what he had expected. His impromptu plan hadn't been ideal, sure, but it had made their mission a success, and he was alive.

You smile a little at the memory. The quiet relief on Frankie's face, how soft and vulnerable he looked surrounded by affection, dust and sweat in his hair. Your smile fades at the remembrance of what had happened next. After everyone had untangled and straightened up, Santiago held out Frankie's hat to him, retrieved from where it had fallen during their dogpile. Frankie had secured it on his head, smiling cautiously at his friend. Then Santiago had punched him in the face.

“Don't you ever do that again!” Santi's voice had cracked. In the split second before he turned and strode away, you caught a glimpse of his eyes, turbulent and red-rimmed with emotion. Frankie, holding his jaw, had stared after him in shock. The Miller boys offered reassurance: “He'll be okay, Catfish. You guys are close. He was just upset.”

“We all were,” you added, stepping closer. Frankie's attention had focused on you for the first time since his return. Apprehension in his eyes, guilt and worry clearly visible on his face. You didn't let yourself think about what those dark eyes did to you as you flung yourself at him, hugging him fiercely. It was only partly to hide your face that you buried it in his neck. Santiago’s outburst echoed your own anger at Frankie’s deception, at him making you believe he was dead- but now was not the time to deal with it.

You had made no effort to stop the tears as you breathed in Frankie's scent, muddled with sweat and gunmetal. His arms wrapped around you carefully, one hand cradling the back of your head. Holding each other the way you were, his voice seemed to rumble through you, low and warm. “Hey, Mos. Thought you were gonna punch me too there for a sec.”

Memories flooded through you at the sensation- all the other times the two of you had been this close. Dancing to sultry music in some club, both of you too tired to pretend to mind lying pressed together in a cramped tent-

You exhaled, shoving the memories aside. Now was also not the time for that particular train of thought or its familiar destination.

Pulling back, you gave him a watery smile. “Nah, I think Pope did enough damage.”

You kissed him lightly on the cheek Santiago had just punched. Frankie's eyes were wide when you looked up at him, but you ignored the fluttering in your chest and turned your soft look into a glare. “But you'll get what's coming to you after that stunt.” His bulletproof vest was hard under your finger as you jabbed it into his chest.

You hardly held up the glare for a minute before it cracked, and Frankie chuckled in relief. “Whatever you say, Mosquito. Let's just get out of here.”

Skirting the edge of your team's small camp, you pause to scan for anyone else moving around in the dark. Briefly you find yourself distracted by the brightness of the full moon above, the beauty of the starry sky this far from any major towns. The remote location of this mission was why you were all still in camp tonight, instead of blowing off steam at some local watering hole. Usually some booze was brought along anyway, so you could unwind around the campfire, but you suppose things are a bit tense for that after today. Secretly, you're glad. You don't want to have to compete with everyone else for Frankie's attention tonight.

Now, you blink rapidly to clear the tears from your eyes. Taking a final deep breath, you stand. You had done enough crying since then; it was time for a different kind of release.

Mosquito. Sneaking around in the night like this, you're reminded of your nickname's origins. After a particularly successful mission, Santiago had been raving over your skills of infiltration. “...hitting 'em before they even knew they were there! Bam!” Crowing with laughter, their victory relaxing him as much as the booze.

“Like a mosquito,” Frankie had murmured, just barely peeking out from under the brim of his cap. The bugs had been particularly bad in that region, but the look in Frankie's eyes was anything but. Gleaming with admiration in the dim bar light, a knowing amusement quirking his mouth into a smile- because Santiago's jaw had dropped. “Mosquito! Yes! ‘Fish, you're a genius!” Before Frankie could stop him, his friend had stolen his hat, ruffled his hair, and planted a kiss on his head with a smack.

You laughed as Frankie snatched his cap back. Santiago lifted his beer and spoke ceremoniously. “From this moment on, you will be known as: Mosquito.”

“Here, here,” Benny and Will had enthused, holding up their own bottles.

You shook your head, but there was no arguing with it. You clinked the neck of your beer with Pope's. “Mosquito it is.” The conversation drifted then, but you had looked at Frankie meaningfully. You lifted your bottle almost imperceptibly in acknowledgment. You're still not sure if the blush on his cheeks was from your appreciation, or Santi's smooch.

A buzzing near your ear reminds you that there are also bugs in your current environment, and that you've been standing here long enough. Certain there is no one around to see, you slip around the side of Frankie's hut to where a camo-patterned blanket hangs as a door. You knock lightly on the wood beside it. “Catfish? It's me,” you call softly. “Can I come in?”

There's a rustle and the sound of a throat clearing. “Yeah.”

You push aside the blanket just enough to step beyond it. It falls back into place behind you with a swish, and you blink as your eyes adjust. Contrary to the cool moonlight falling outside, the hut is lit only by a lantern sitting on the nightstand. In the dim, warm orangish glow, the figure perched on the edge of the bed is a study of shadows. You catch your breath as Frankie lifts his head.

Frankie “Catfish” Morales epitomizes the phrase “it's always the quiet ones”. But what he doesn't say out loud, you can always read in his eyes. Endlessly expressive, occasionally accompanied by an eyebrow raised to varying heights, they never fail to draw you in.

“Hey, ‘Squito. Come to take your shot?”

Your brow furrows. That wasn't what you expected. The guys only called you ‘squito' or ‘skeeter’ when they wanted to needle you. Buying time, you cast your eyes around the small space. A few square feet at the foot of the bed where Frankie had dumped some gear; the single bed that Frankie sits on, three feet in front of you; and the nightstand at the head of the bed, a surprisingly homey feature. On it sits the lantern, Frankie's dog tags, and- ah- a tall bottle filled with golden liquid.

“Only if that's tequila I see,” you reply.

Frankie looks caught off-guard for a beat. Then a huff of laughter escapes him. “Make yourself at home.”

So saying, he pushes himself backwards on the bed, loosely crossing his legs in front him and resting his head against the wall. His eyes drift shut.

You snatch the bottle up with one hand and use the other to maneuver onto the bed next to him, mirroring his position. Consciously, you make sure your knees touch. Despite your earlier anger and whatever Frankie seemed to be thinking now, you want him to know you're here for him. His leg hair prickles against your skin, pleasant and familiar and warm.

"How many have you had?"

"Just two."

“Easy catch-up, then.” You remove the shot glass resting upside down on top of the bottle, fill it up, and knock it back. You can't help but shudder as it goes down, warmth settling in your belly.

You turn your head to find Frankie's eyes open and fixed on you. You swallow reflexively at how close your faces suddenly are, how depthless his eyes look in the lamplight.

“How's the tequila?”

You blink, barely registering his words.

He nods down to the bottle resting on your knee. “It's a new kind.” His low, raspy voice, normally comforting, now feels like it's sliding along your bones, setting them alight and turning them to liquid all at once.

You blink several more times and resist the urge to clear your throat. You glance down at the bottle. The label looks vaguely familiar, but not as much as it would if it were a brand he or Santi normally bought. And you would know; you've drank with them both countless times, enough to know their preferences.

“It's good,” you say. You offer it back to him.

He takes it, moving at a leisurely pace as he unscrews the cap. You watch the deftness of his hands, your gaze traveling up his arms- perhaps not as defined as Santiago's or Benny's, but just as capable of holding you tight. The lantern's glow gleams on his brown skin, the line of his throat as he tips his head back.

Your gaze catches on the strands of hair that drift along his brow. Usually they're tucked beneath his cap, even after-hours- an easy target for teasing amongst the guys. But tonight they're free, and you wonder at how soft they look. If Frankie would let you touch them, the tiny curls at his temple.

One eyebrow raises into your line of sight, interrupting your train of thought, and you realize he's caught you staring. Flushing, you wordlessly take the bottle back from him and sling another shot, before setting it down on the bed next to you.

After a beat of hesitation, you lean your head on his shoulder. “What's wrong, Catfish?”

You can feel him struggling to decide what to say. “Benny and Will caught me by the campfire. Scolded me for pulling such an idiotic stunt. You know the drill.”

“But then they slapped you on the back for it working out so well, right?” That's how their “scoldings” usually went.

“Yeah. Just not until after a solid helping of guilt. And I still haven't spoken to Santiago.”

You sigh. How could he not understand? You reach out and take his right hand in your left, entwining your fingers and pulling them toward you. Both of you happen to be wearing old, standard-issue PT shorts as pajamas; short enough for Frankie's hand to be resting on bare skin where you hold it against your leg.

“Frankie.” He seems reluctant to look you in the eye. “Hey,” you say, softer this time. He lifts his gaze. “It was an idiotic stunt. Brilliant, and it worked, but…” Frankie looks like he's bracing for a blow. “We thought we lost you, Frankie. How could we not be messed up by that?”

For that had been part of what made his plan so risky. Frankie hadn't counted on his team being so upset and distracted by his apparent loss that they could have been caught for real.

Seeming agitated, Frankie runs a hand through his hair. “I know, I know. I heard it all earlier.”

You wonder if Benny and Will had mentioned, if they had noticed, just how uprooted you had felt. You and Santiago both; their unflappable teammates, nearly unhinged.

You wait until he looks at you again. All traces of moisture seem to have evaporated from your mouth. “I thought I lost you, Frankie,” you whisper.

He remains still as this realization unfolds, unfurling like a flower in the sun. Revealing in crystal clarity what you had both been carefully stepping around for months. Longer. His eyes rove over your face as if searching for any possibility of a joke, a catch; his breathing quickens as his gaze flickers over the rest of you, taking in your knees pressed together and your hands entwined above them.

He reaches out with his free hand and slowly, delicately cradles your face. His skin is callused where his thumb strokes your cheek. Slowly, as if this was a dream he didn't want to wake from, he dips his head toward you until he is only a breath away.

“That's never gonna happen, Mos.” The words hang in the space between you for a heartbeat, an eternity. Frankie's gaze drops to your mouth for an instant; you feel the glance zip through you with a physical certainty. One of you must lean forward, or both of you- but in the next moment, without any movement you're aware of, your lips meet.

If either of you had been unsure earlier, you weren't now. Frankie kisses you like you're the air he needs to breathe; your free hand clutches a fistful of his t-shirt in an effort to pull him even closer.

His lips are improbably soft compared to his pilots' hands. You lightly run your tongue along them and his mouth opens for you, warm and welcoming. Frankie lets out a muffled groan as he tastes you, his hand shifting back to grip the nape of your neck. A needy sound scrapes the back of your throat at the feeling, the discovery of how much you trust his hands there, and fuck, you realize- you’re in even deeper than you thought.

But as suddenly as it had started, it stops. Frankie pulls back just far enough for the two of you to look at each other. Your ragged breathing mingles in the space between you. A breeze outside ripples the bottom of the blanket-door, the cool air a welcome contrast to your heated skin.

Through the overwhelming desire hazing your thoughts, you realize you're still holding hands. You glance down your lap and laugh a little, easing some of the tension. Squeezing his hand, you look back up at him. He's smiling too, despite the fact that his torso is still twisted toward you, straining to be close to you.

“Are you...okay?” you venture.

“Never better,” he answers, almost absently. He disentangles your hands to rest his flat on your bare thigh, his thumb stroking the skin, and you close your eyes at the touch. That such a small motion could wash through your whole body, make you hollow with want...when you open your eyes again, Frankie is looking at you with such intensity it steals your breath. “I just want to be sure that you're okay. With this. Us.”

Gently holding his hand in place against your thigh, you shift your bottom half so it aligns with the top half of you, facing him. Tentatively, you rest your hands on Frankie's leg so as to still be touching him. “This isn't just about today, you know? What happened today may have...triggered it, but this isn't a new feeling. I want you, Frankie. I care about you.” You look him in the eye at the last sentence, praying you've said the right thing.

But oh, have you- because Frankie looks like he wants to devour you whole. “Fuck,” he growls, and surges into you, his mouth crashing into yours. He wraps an arm around your waist, bending you backward while hauling you against his body, which now kneels over yours.

Instinctively you throw your arms around him, clinging to his shoulders as he holds you above the mattress. Heat surges through you at such a blatant demonstration of Frankie's strength, especially as his lips continue to move along your jaw and his teeth tug on your earlobe. “No more words,” he rasps, and that's all the warning you get before he's crawling the rest of the way up the bed, one arm holding you to him the entire time. Your feet scramble to help propel yourself along with him.

You've felt tantalizing brushes of Frankie’s muscles before, and now his every motion introduces the same tortuously brief sensations. When he finally lowers you to the bed his body chases yours, pressing himself into you, and you both groan aloud, finally able to give into the desire to sink into each other.

There's a dull thud and the sound of liquid sloshing as the tequila bottle is knocked off the bed, but Frankie seems to have only one thing on his mind. He is everywhere at once while you writhe beneath him; his teeth sink into your shoulder as he sucks possessive marks there, his hands span your hips and slide up your skin in a way that has you seeing stars.

“Fuck, Frankie,” you gasp, and he hums, dark and approving, from where his nose is tracing patterns down your belly.

“I like you saying my name, querida.” His breath is hot on your skin as he presses kisses up your ribs, steadily rucking up your shirt. He's probably already guessed that you aren't wearing a bra: you never do when the team is officially off-duty, a question that was once asked and quickly settled the first time it came up, in a camp much like this one.

You spare a thought as to if you should feel self-conscious that you're also not wearing underwear. After spending so much time sweating in jungles, you like to let things breathe when you can. You didn't plan for this to be happening tonight.

But then you imagine Frankie's reaction when he discovers your single bottom layer, and you decide not to worry.

You're lured out of your thoughts by Frankie's voice, coaxing, asking: “Take this off for me, dulzura?”

Barely a glance down at his beseeching eyes has you moving with impossible eagerness. You half sit up to oblige him, thinking that you would do just about anything with him sounding like that. His voice as rough as his hands and just as tangible against your skin, just as capable of inciting the slickness between your thighs.

You pull your shirt over your head, arching your back a little more than strictly necessary for him. Your nipples harden as they're exposed to the air, exposed to him- because Frankie is staring, his lips parting like he's already imagining them being on you.

You give in to the urge to plunge your hands into his hair, running the soft strands between your fingers and then tugging, reminding him that he can do more than imagine. His eyes snap to your face and you have half a second to register their wicked gleam before he's on you. His hands grace your breasts first, callused fingers as capable directing your body as they are his machines. You wonder if it's the tequila or his touch that has your head spinning so- his mouth warms you better than any liquor, and the slide of his tongue on your nipples makes you cry out.

Your hands scrabble at him during his ministrations, determined to wreck him as thoroughly as he’s wrecking you. You roll your hips into his thigh, wedged between your own, but any thoughts beyond repeating that single motion fly out of your head when you feel the hard length of his arousal. You rake your nails down his back- gently at first- but the guttural noise he makes when you do convinces you to do it again, harder. He shudders above you, and when you continue downward to squeeze his ass, he exhales shakily.

“Fuck me, querida.” Frankie sits up, his weight pinning your legs, rendering you unable to continue tormenting him.

“That’s the idea,” you say cheekily, before your jaw falls slack at the sight of him yanking his shirt over his head by the neck. He chuckles at the look on your face.

“You were saying something, Mosquito?” he quips, bending down to kiss you again. You both gasp at the sensation of your bare skin meeting. His kiss is searing, claiming, and you can’t get enough. How had you not given in to this before now? Every inch of him, every sound he makes, is familiar- you’ve gotten used to catching glimpses of him out in the field; you’ve heard him spill endearments and sweet sounds in your ear on the dance floor after one too many rounds (no matter that neither of you ever brought it up the next morning). But now, with the world tilted sideways and all your senses tuned to him at once- every sensation is utterly new, and you want them all.

You want Frankie to feel them too; you wrap your arms around him, caressing newly exposed skin as he sighs into your mouth. Your hands slip beneath his shorts to stroke the divots of his hip bones, but before you can reach for the maddening hardness between them he stops you, tearing his mouth from yours with a snarl.

“Not yet, dulzura,” he says. You've never seen his eyes so hooded with lust, the meaningful smirk playing on his lips. “Ladies first.”

Fuck, you’ve never been so turned on in your life. You whimper helplessly as his hands and mouth descend to the waistband of your shorts. Just barely coherent, you lift your hips so he can slide them off- and watch the smugness vanish from his expression.

“You’re not wearing- were you?” Frankie looks dumbfounded, his voice hoarse.

You almost laugh. As if you’d had a chance to slip off your panties without him seeing since you arrived? “I wasn’t, no. It’s an occasional habit.” It’s your turn smirk at him, broadly, as his expression immediately goes hazy, imagining the implications of that.

You squirm a little where you lie, your shorts pulled down just enough to reveal your sex. Laying there mostly naked, your bottom half restrained, you can already feel tension coiling in your core. Frankie’s attention focuses again at your movement. Everything feels hypersensitive against your skin: the thin sheets beneath you, Frankie’s knuckles on your thighs where he still grips your shorts. Even his gaze as he drags it down your body, coming to rest on where he’s just exposed.

He tugs your shorts down and over your feet. Sliding his hands back up you slowly, he eases your legs apart, pressing kisses as he goes. Each one warm and deliberate, soft and slightly ticklish from his facial hair. As he reaches the apex of your thighs his tongue traces hot lines toward where you want him- teasing, warning. He breathes your name, and your eyes meet.

You’ve been watching him make his way up your body, enthralled by the sight. You never imagined that sex with Frankie would be like this (to the point that you let yourself imagine sex with Frankie at all)- equal parts silly and smoldering, with an aura of reverence around the whole thing, like neither of you ever dreamed this would really happen. Now he refocuses on what’s closer to him: you, soaked by the evidence of just how much you want him. He circles your entrance with one thumb, testing, and spreads the wetness up to your clit. You gasp and buck your hips as he continues this circuit, back and forth, for several seconds.

“Fuck, Frankie,” you moan in a higher pitch, an unspoken plea for more.

In the time it takes you to register the satisfied smile and promising glint in his eyes, he’s lowered his head and licked a long, hot line directly up your center. Then he hooks his thumbs into you, spreading you open, and does it again.

“Fuck!” you swear and pant and grip the mattress as Frankie’s tongue works you, like nobody you’ve ever been with. You feel pinned down with the way he holds you open and you love it, like you’re for his pleasure and not the other way around. Like he could do this all night but oh, you’d never last that long. You have to remind yourself not to moan so loud as he sucks on your clit; the thin wooden walls of this hut feel too small for the feeling overtaking you as Frankie licks into you, fucking you with his tongue.

Thin walls, thin walls- “Frankie!” you cry desperately, all the muscles in your body contracting as his mouth brings you to the edge-

“Yes, querida please, let go for me,” he urges, and his rough, low voice combined with his mouth latching back onto you is all it takes for you to come, hips rearing, your body shuddering under him as pleasure pulses through you. With eager, steady strokes of his tongue, Frankie draws out your orgasm like he’s the one who never wants it to end.

As the high gradually passes, you move one hand to rest in his hair. “Stop,” you say weakly. You tug gently, but otherwise don’t move from where you lie with your eyes closed, still catching your breath.

You hear him chuckle; you don’t even want to think about how smug he probably looks. Frankie presses a last kiss to your inner thigh and then crawls up your body, pressing his still-clothed hips into yours.

“Is that all you can take, Mosquito?” he teases.

Instinctively you lift your hips to meet him- and your eyes fly open as his cock lines up with your center. Frankie lets out possibly the most erotic sound you’ve ever heard, a cut-off, huffing groan, and his eyes flutter shut as his face contorts.

Your teeth sink into your lower lip at the sight, and the feel of his length (because it is a length, you think dizzily) pressing at your entrance, even encased in shorts, jolts you right back to life, thrumming with want. Your lips curve into a smile. “If that’s your reaction while you still have pants on, Catfish, I’m not sure you can take much more,” you drawl.

He grumbles something unintelligible in Spanish, lowering his head to nip at your neck. His hardness slides against you deliberately as you giggle and then gasp. When one large hand grips your hip you whimper, and Frankie’s husky voice sounds in your ear. “Those are the sounds I want to be hearing right now, dulzura.”

His commanding tone makes you flush with need, and you whimper again, wondering how this man could possibly give you so much bliss and still have you aching for more. You tug at his shorts. “Take these off.”

“Oh, you’re giving the orders now, huh?” Frankie raises an eyebrow, but slides off the bed to oblige. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband, and you suddenly find it hard to focus on anything else.

“Well, I can’t let you have all the fun,” you say, your mouth forming the words while all your attention is on his hips, the incremental amounts of skin being revealed as he slowly draws down his shorts.

Your mouth goes dry as the proud length of him springs free, his shorts finally falling to the floor. His cock looks just as long as it felt pressed against you, the tip gleaming with moisture, and you feel yourself clench at the thought of taking him inside you. You run your eyes back up him, following the trail of hair to the dusting over his chest, the span of his shoulders. Lost in your admiration of his beautiful, soft, strong body, you’re almost startled when you hear him speak.

“Like what you see?” Frankie’s gruff voice draws your attention back to his face. You feel a pang of surprise at the trepidation there, and you wonder what that eyebrow means this time. Is he...shy?

A smile fights to bloom on your face, but you hold it back, just for a moment. “Oh, do I,” you purr, shifting smoothly to stand in front of him. The wooden floor beneath your bare feet is rough but not splintery. He watches you move, lust darkening his gaze as he rakes it over you again.

“Francisco Morales,” you say. Your grin flowers fully across your face then, and you try to channel every ounce of suppressed affection you ever felt as you aim it at him.

A shy smile flickers across his face as he absorbs your affection; he has the gall to look almost surprised by it. Your exasperating, wonderful man. Thinking about everything that led you here makes your eyes feel hot again; the idea that he might have been gone without you ever telling him, showing him, what he really means to you.

You step forward and wrap your arms around him, burrowing your face into his chest. Frankie stifles a gasp as your hips press into him, but returns the gesture, understanding. He strokes your hair with one hand.

“It’s okay, querida. I’m here. I’ll always be here,” he vows softly.

You tilt your head up at his declaration, blinking watery eyes. He gently catches your chin and lowers his lips to yours. You sigh-moan into his kiss, letting it melt your worries away, stretching up on your toes to meet it equally. Frankie’s tongue is hot in your mouth as it intensifies; your knees feel weak. Finally you tear away from him with a gasp, breathing heavily.

“You okay, Mos?” Frankie’s hand rests on the back of your neck again. After that kiss, it makes it even more difficult to think clearly, but you’re more okay than you’ve ever been.

“Never better.” With a smile, you echo his words from earlier. Your hands wander down the muscles of his back, coming to settle on his now bare ass. You look at him from under your lashes and bite your lip.

He answers your look with an equally sensual smile, his hands caressing down your spine to mirror your position. Thick fingers massage your rear before gripping firmly, fitting your hips to his. Your eyes flutter shut. Frankie’s body slots against your own perfectly, all its curves and contours molding to yours like pieces of a puzzle box sliding smoothly into place, holding something secret and wonderful within.

All the nerves in your body zero in on the hard length pressed between you. Frankie’s cock burns with heat, and you can feel every ridge and vein where it rasps against your skin.

“Dulzura,” Frankie says, his mustache tickling your ear. “How do you feel about taking this back to the bed?”

You giggle and nod your consent, eyes shining. Frankie groans in relief and bundles you backward. Your back hits the mattress and he climbs atop you, your limbs tangling, kissing and caressing with mounting fervor. Your back arches and a breathy cry scrapes free as his cock drags through your sensitive folds. Frankie lets out a guttural moan at the feeling, clutching at you like he can’t get close enough.

“Frankie...’Fish,” you gasp, through the chaos of your thoughts. You have just enough willpower to pull back and meet his gaze. “Flip us over?”

Desire flares in his eyes. In a blurringly quick move, he spins you, and then you’re atop him, the base of his cock nestled against your sex. Frankie groans again at the sensation, seeming beyond words. He palms your thighs, your breasts. You feel short of breath, consumed by the need sweeping through you.

You wrap your hand around Frankie’s cock, stroking firmly. He makes a choked sound and his hips buck up from the bed.

“Mos,” he grits out. “Please.”

All you can do is nod. Rising up on your knees slightly, you position yourself over him, grasping his cock and running the tip of him through your wetness. Thighs trembling, you line him up at your entrance.

Frankie reaches for your free hand and entwines your fingers, prompting you to look up and meet his gaze. His hand squeezes yours in a wordless question.

Your heart swells, and you feel impossibly fond as you smile at him. Your Frankie. Even as far gone as you both are, he’s checking on you. Making you feel safe. In answer, you lower yourself down onto him.

The effect is swift and immediate. Your moans are loud enough to wake the stars; you forget everything but each other’s pleasure, the absolute euphoric rightness of this feeling.

Then you clap a hand over your mouth, eyes wide. “Shhh!” you remind him giddily.

Frankie looks utterly gone, his lips parted, awe and adoration on his face. The hair on his forehead is damp with sweat. “Move for me, querida,” he says, and the strained, pleading rasp in his voice shoots heat straight to your core.

You set a steady rhythm on him, your eyes fluttering shut as Frankie’s cock fills you, stretches you so deliciously you can already feel a familiar pressure building. The sinful ease with which he slides in and out of you is a testament to just how wet you are. His fingers stroke and squeeze your flesh in time with his vocal gasps, and when they brush your cheek, you open your eyes.

“Fuck,” you mumble. You’ve always thought Frankie was beautiful, but this…the muscles in his arms flex and pull through your movements. The intensity in his dark eyes as they drink in every inch of you, like he still can’t believe this happening. The restraint he’s showing, letting you set the pace, is evident in the tension you can feel in his body beneath you. It makes you grind your hips down, squeeze him, wanting to push past his cautiousness.

Frankie chokes back a shout at your change in rhythm, throwing his head back and exposing the length of his neck. Immediately you lean down to trace it with your tongue, relishing the taste of salt on his skin. He swears.

He grasps the back of your neck for the third time that night, and you whimper, ecstasy thrilling down your spine. “Please, Frankie,” you breathe, not even knowing what you’re asking for.

“Yes,” he answers roughly. He kisses you and then tugs you back upright. This time he thrusts up into you, hard, and the sound of skin slapping on skin fills the air. You cry out, needy and desperate, and Frankie growls in approval.

“Fuck, yes, Mos. Want to hear you, want you to feel good…” his praise stutters, some of it in Spanish now as his pace quickens.

Only Frankie could make you feel this good, and you make sure he knows it. He grips your hips firmly enough to bruise, but you don’t care; you want it, want him to mark you. Claim you, so there will never be any question about it again. You are his, completely.

“Frankie, my Frankie..” Pleas and praise tumble from your lips.

“Fuck, yeah.” Maybe he likes the idea of being yours, too, because he moans loudly in response. His palm splays against your side, slides across your skin until his thumb presses down on your clit.

Your nerves jolt. Fuck, you’re gonna come. Frankie’s thrusts speed up- had you said that out loud? Your breathing quickens; you can feel the tension rising in you as surely as a cresting wave.

“Mos,” Frankie gasps. “Can I..?” His eyes flicker to where your bodies connect.

You understand his meaning and your eyes widen. “Yes!” And the idea of him spilling himself inside you, the sudden force of his thrusts, the pressure of his thumb- the wave breaks.

Blinding pleasure crashes through you, a roaring in your ears muffling everything else. Distantly you feel yourself shake and keen; your walls pulse around Frankie’s cock, and then a new heat fills you as his hips slam into yours and stay there, buried deep. He groans, long and low in his throat.

There’s a moment of stillness as you both recover, the only sound your heaving breaths. Feeling wobbly, you topple forward, catching yourself with your palms on Frankie’s chest. You let out a soft groan as aftershocks ebb though you, every nerve singing.

“...Mos,” Frankie murmurs, his eyes still closed.

“Mm,” you manage, words still beyond your abilities.

“That was fucking amazing,” he breathes out the words on a sigh. He releases your hips to cover your hands with his. His eyes open. “You’re fucking amazing,” he says with more strength.

You can feel yourself blush. “Frankie...” You duck your head.

“Uh-uh, dulzura,” he scolds. He tips your chin back up. “You know I’ve always thought that about you.” He holds your gaze, his clear-eyed certainty so unlike the careful distance he kept before.

You lean down and press a kiss to his heart before snuggling into him, nose against his neck. He’s still inside you, softening slowly, and you savor the intimacy and connectedness of it. “I know,” you respond. “I’m just sorry I never did anything about it.”

Frankie strokes a soothing hand along your back. The air is close and humid after your exertions, and your skin is faintly damp with sweat. “Nothing to be sorry for. I never did anything either,” he points out.

You chuckle, a bit nervously. “Well, we’ve done something now.”

You can feel his laugh rumble through his chest, comforting, like the reverse of a cat purring on your lap. “No kidding.”

You wait, sensing he has more to say.

“Querida,” he prompts softly. You lift your head to look at him. His hair is a mess, all sweat-damp curls, and though his face is serious, his eyes are as soft as you’ve ever seen them. Your heart squeezes.

“I care about you too. You know our lives are crazy, and dangerous, so I was scared to say anything. Scared you didn’t feel the same. But...I can’t go back to you not knowing. I’m all in, Mos. If you want this, so do I.”

Frankie’s face is open, vulnerable. How could he possibly imagine that you’d want to go back? You shake your head at him. “Well, there’s no way I can top that speech, ‘Fish.” It feels like he’s holding his breath. You level an exasperated, affectionate look at him. “Of course I want this. Don’t you ever think otherwise.”

Before you’re even done speaking he’s kissing you, his lips and tongue saying what words cannot. As it deepens you shift forward, and Frankie’s cock slips out of you, causing you both to flinch and then laugh. His face crinkles adorably, and the moment makes you indescribably happy- the kind of contentment that comes from realizing you know exactly what you want. And right now, it’s this perfect, effortless bond you have with Frankie.

He gives you a shy smile. You lay your head down on his chest, overcome by a wave of satisfied tiredness. Idly you trace shapes across his abdomen with a finger while you speak. “You know, Catfish, your chest is much comfier than my bed. Mind if just I sleep here?”

He chuckles, and you think hearing Frankie’s laugh through his chest might be your new favorite sound. His arms, still wrapped around you, squeeze you lightly. “Please; stay.” He reaches out and clicks off the lantern. Despite the darkness, you get the feeling that both of you are still thinking, absorbing everything that just happened, but gradually your thoughts lull towards sleep.

Until Frankie’s voice slides through the dark: “I can’t believe you weren’t wearing underwear.”

---

A/N: Thank you for reading!! This is the first fic I’ve ever written, pls be nice. Fun fact, I originally intended for this to be a Frankie x Reader x Santi fic, but then decided I was getting too into the Frankie x Reader feels to do that. HOWEVER, if anyone is interested and even if no one asks lol, I might still write a threesome AU of this scenario

#frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #triple frontier fic #francisco catfish morales x reader #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #triple frontier #baby's first fic!!

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translations-by-aiimee · 3 years

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Mistakenly Saving the Villain - Chapter 5

Original Title: 论救错反派的��场

Genres: Drama, Romance, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5 - Wrong Answer

Readers who have read novels such as transmigration, quick transmigration, and system plotlines, know that if the fate of the character in the story must be changed, it should be prevented before the character's tragic fate has occurred. However, Song Qingshi interpreted this as the event having already occurred, and was meant to save the character who had already suffered a tragic fate. This train of thought meant that his decision was a thousand miles off.

In the original book, Yue Wuhuan only appeared three times:

The first time was when the shou protagonist had just been sold to Golden Phoenix Manor. When he saw the unbearable scene of Yue Wuhuan being played with by the guests, his three views shattered.

The second time was when the protagonist's naive illusion of the future was destroyed and he was forced to accept his identity because of the ridicule and humiliating remarks of Yue Wuhuan.

The third time, Yue Wuhuan was taken out by Jin FeiRen on the Langgan stage to treat the guests and was accidentally torn to pieces by the demon tiger. Jin FeiRen concealed the actual explanation of the demon tiger's madness and treated it as a deliberately arranged game for the banquet. With this extreme fear, he shattered the last trace of the protagonist's dignity, making him completely surrender and become a plaything.

In short, Yue Wuhuan was a small supporting role with little substance, leaving the plot early, using his degeneracy to offset the beauty of the protagonist. His beauty was only like that of a beautiful flower that was about to wither. How can it be compared with the pure and clean flower bud that had not yet bloomed in the dawn?

This was a super simple multiple-choice question that every reader could figure out!

If the system was a living thing and watching over the exam being taken, it would be so angry that it would have come out and beaten that foolish Song Qingshi to death.

Scholar-Tyrant Song didn't know that he had drifted so far from the original goal, but he was still eagerly confident, trying to do his best and vowing to get a perfect score!

On the way back to the Valley of the Medicine King, Song Qingshi had recalled all the memories of his original body and integrated it with its massive knowledge of medicine and alchemy. There were rare and exotic herbs and miraculous medicines in the cultivation world. However, similar to traditional Chinese medicine, even if the medicine worked wonders, the science behind the effects of these medicines was still a mystery.

Modern medicine conducts systematic research on traditional Chinese medicine to find out the monarch-minister-auxiliary relationship within its components, extracted the useful ingredients in each concoction, and then developed medicine that was easier to take and had even better results.

A female scientist won the Nobel Prize for this, benefiting the world. Song Qingshi focused on modern medicine, leaped away from the traditional path of immortality, and quickly found new ideas for solving problems for many areas that the original body had failed to properly study. He used the Tiangong Pavilion to make modern scientific instrument substitutes, and then analyze the effective ingredients in the immortal medicines, purify them, research them, and even artificially synthesize them. . .

In Song Qingshi's mind, there were countless experimental schemes in an endless stream, and there were tens of thousands of books and inexhaustible medicinal materials in the Medicine King's Valley, as well as abundant research funds.

He was overjoyed, like a mouse that fell into a vat of rice. He wanted to kiss the system if he could.

Song Qingshi fully understood why the original body lived here, staying in such a cultivation paradise. He could live here for the rest of his life!

He could immerse himself in the ocean of intense studying and research every day. He could dedicate his life and soul to his favourite medical god. No one could send him back!

Song Qingshi looked at Yue Wuhuan in his arms. The more he looked at him, the more he loved him.

This was the big treasure that had given him everything! He would do everything he could to save him, just like his parents used to treat him before; indulged, spoiled, loved, and giving him all the good things he needed so that he can live a happy life like a prince in a fairy tale!

Song 'a father's love is like a mountain' Qingshi was full of ambition. He suppressed his excitement and immediately placed Yue Wuhuan in the side hall of his bedroom. He did everything by himself. First, he poured the elixir carefully with the crane-mouthed pot to re-invigorate the breath of life. Then he changed into white clothes, put on a homemade mask, and found a pair of extremely thin animal leather gloves. After he finished disinfecting the wounds, gently cut off the blood-soaked gauze and feather skirt on Yue Wuhuan's body with scissors, rinsed the wounds, and then sutured them with very fine silkworm thread. Then, he cut off the shackles and treated his ankle wounds.

Song Qingshi's movements were extremely gentle and quick, barely touching any skin, but Yue Wuhuan's body was extremely sensitive. He twitched slightly and groaned a few times before falling asleep again. Song Qingshi took the opportunity to take some blood samples for analysis, and also performed a full-body scan of him with his mental probe. He was a good-tempered person, but after seeing the disastrously ruined dantian and meridians in Yue Wuhuan's body, he couldn't help but curse darkly at those beasts. He scolded them repeatedly, thinking about how he was going to explain this situation to him once he woke up.

Song Qingshi was not good at communicating with strangers. He was able to make do when discussing his interests, but his thoughts often went blank when forced into small talk. For example, when everyone watched the popular men's group selection variety show together and argued over who was the male god?

He answered sincerely that it was Asclepius, the god of medicine. . .

Song Qing hasn't understood why everyone said he killed the conversation.

He thought hard for a long time and remembered that when his Lou Gerhig's hadn't been as advanced, he worked in a hospital for an internship. His senior brother knew that Song Qinshi was afraid of social interaction and would end up a stuttering mess when he tried to have conversations with his patients. He taught Song Qingshi: "Push down all of your feelings and act like a medical machine. First write down their case in detail and their treatment plan, recite it with a smile, and then end with a comforting sentence." Song Qingshi took this secret technique, practiced many times in front of the teacher, and, finally, he could talk to patients without fear.

A hospital is a place for treatment, just like how the Medicine King's Valley is a place for treatment. What's the difference?

After Song Qingshi had this epiphany, he replaced Yue Wuhuan’s bed sheets and bedding with the white ones commonly used in hospitals. He ordered the valley servant to make several sets of patient clothes, put them on by himself, and then tied roots on his wrist to represent the hospital information band. With a red wristband and a sign on the bed with "Special Care" and the instructions for how to care for him, Song Qingshi instantly felt calm in this makeshift hospital environment.

He wasn't comfortable with the type of care that the valley servantswere giving and took on nursing himself. He was careful and not afraid of getting tired. He wiped down Yue Wuhuan's body and washed his face, fed him medicine and water, and even replaced the bedding to deal with all kinds of filth.

When Yue Wuhuan woke up three days later, he was confused. He didn't know where he was. He stared at the white veil on the top of the bed in a daze for a long time. He finally realized that he was still alive and he hadn't been this relaxed in a long time.

He closed his eyes, faintly recalling the slight fragrance of medicine lingering from his dream and the hands that had gently released all the restraints for him. He took a deep breath. He didn't want to wake up and face the never-ending nightmare.

After who know's how long, Yue Wuhuan threw his eyes open, remembering where he had smelled the fragrance of the medicine. He slowly turned his head and looked at the round table next to him, but saw that Medicine Master Xianzun was attentively making changes to the cursive writings on the table. He was frowning, his expression serious, as if thinking about something bad. There was also a familiar spirit bead in the silver plate next to him, and it became obvious that he had been given to another guest to be played with.

Yue Wuhuan’s phoenix eyes shrank. The rumors of the perverse and evil deeds of the Medicine Master Xianzun appeared in his mind, but he was not afraid. Whether he was willing or unwilling meant nothing under the control of the spirit bead. Besides, his broken body was no longer worthy of being cherished. He took a deep breath, gritted his teeth and struggled to get out of bed, but a sharp pain came from his shoulder, which made him dizzy and he fell right back down. Song Qingshi never had any distractions when he was researching. He heard the movement and found that the patient was awake. He was afraid that Yue Wuhuan might have moved his body and reopened the wound. He quickly reprimanded him with a stern tone: "You, go to bed right away! You are not allowed to get off for ten days!"

This stern technique was a secret taught by the head nurse of the hospital. It had a good effect on treating patients who didn't follow the doctor's advice.

"Ten days?" Yue Wuhuan was stunned. He couldn't help but look at Song Qingshi up and down. The more he looked, the more he felt that his appearance was deceiving. He had been with guests for many years, and he was used to seeing many lustful scenes, but he never would've guessed that this person had such prowess in the bed. . .

Seeing that he hadn't gotten back on the bed, Song Qingshi put down his pen, walked over and picked him up with his own hands.

Yue Wuhuan remained unmoved, stretched out his hand and gently hugged his neck. Hot fingertips touched his cool skin, as smooth as cool jade, and the clear and clean scent of medicine wrapped around him gently like if he was in a dream. Yue Wuhuan couldn't help but shake for a moment. He chasticized his heart for still not knowing how to behave, then resumed his usual posture, and breathed out ambiguously: "I hope that Xianxun will take pity. . ."

"Don't worry, I will." Song Qingshi put him back on the bed carefully, then pulled the blanket up. He wrapped him up tightly, and solemnly told him, "The valley is wet and cold. You have a mortal body so be careful of the cold and stay under the blanket. Keep your hands and feet tucked in and don’t kick off the sheets."

Yue Wuhuan had never seen this trick in bed before and was at a bit of a loss.

"You;re a patient now. Let me tell you about your situation." Song Qingshi turned back to the table, picked up a stack of paper covered with words. He nervously pushed the non-existent glasses on the bridge of his nose, and read with a smile, formulating his tone. "The patient is Yue Wuhuan. There are three lacerations from the right shoulder to the chest, which are 18 cm, 14 cm and 12 cm long. The right shoulder bone is fractured, and the suprascapular artery has been ruptured. The right elbow has a skin contusion. The left and right wrists have skin tissue bruises, the left and right knees are bruised along with the left and right ankle tissue. The buttocks skin has soft tissue lacerations. There are signs of drug abuse in the body and potentially drug addiction. Do you understand?"

Yue Wuhuan only felt that his stiff smile must look increasingly forced. The more he thought about it, the crazier everything seemed. All he could do was nod his head and pretendto understand.

"Very good." Song Qingshi felt that what he said was both detailed and easy to understand, and began to recite the preliminary treatment plan. "Your dantian and meridians have been destroyed, and your body is seriously damaged. Your body is too fragile right now to use stronger medicine, so you cannot take Rejuvenation Pill, Gather Breathe and Disperse Pill, All Creation Pill or the Bone Growth Pill. You need to be treated with mortal medicine first, and then treated with the Six Meridian Rejuvanation medicated bath. Then you'll take the Rising Dragon Pill and Nine Revolution Blood Lotus Pill."

Yue Wuhuan finally understood what he was saying. These pills were common immortal medicines, and he had also taken it when he was seriously injured.

The All Creation Pill and Rising Dragon Pill were worth thousands, and he had heard that the poster of Jape Pearl Tower's Lord had used it for his own treasure.

He didn't know what the Six Meridian Rejuvanation medicated bath was, but the Nine Revolution Blood Lotus Pill was the treasure of the immortal world. It is made of ten thousand year-old blood lotuses. There were only nine in the world and only few know where their locations. He only knew that the master of Xuanji Palace had used it and ascended to Fen Shen; the lord of Fluttering Snow Fortress turned against his Daoist companion and killed him and his wife to win the treasure; one appeared in the Qizhen Pavilion auction, and it was won by the owner of the East Sea Langya Pavilion with hundreds of thousands of high-grade spirit stones. For some reason, Jin FeiRen wasn't able to participate in the auction. He always brought it up as one of the greatest regrets in his life.

If it were described in mortal terms, it would be like saving a beggar on the side of the road and saying that you would give him precious delicacies, golden houses, jade horses, and billions in wealth. FInally, you tell him you'll give him the fade seal of the country and all lands under the heavens. Only an idiot would believe these claims.

Yue Wuhuan laughed but his heart was cold. He basically confirmed that Song Qingshi was just toying with him.

He had also encountered many such sweet talkers, pretending to show compassion for some and pity for others. All he wanted, though, was to coax his slaves to play this game with him. He only lusted after his dirty body, in the end.

Song Qingshi finished off with some final closing words: "Don't worry, as long as you follow the doctor's advice and cooperate with the treatment, you'll be cured."

"Okay," Yue Wuhuan's phoenix eyes showed a bit of flattery, and he replied in a sultry voice: "This slave depend on Xianzun for everything. . ."

"I almost forgot." Song Qingshi looked into his eyes and suddenly remembered something. He put on the animal skin gloves again, picked up a luminous bead the size of a goose egg and placed it in a strange, long, tube-shape lampshade. Then he sat on the side of the bed, leaned over and looked at Yue Wuhuan. He gave him a serious warning: "This may be a little uncomfortable, please bear with me."

Yue Wuhuan smiled self-deprecatingly. He let the phoenix eyes show waves of desire, and he relaxed his body, waiting to be played with.

Song Qingshi stretched out his hand and opened his eyes, illuminating the inside of the eyes with the luminous bead. He carefully observed for a while, then whispered: "The problem of the lacrimal secretion system is not visible on the outside, so I still have to do a colored dye inspection..."

Yue Wuhuan: "???"

#mistakenly saving the villain #mistakenly saving the villain translation #chinese bl #chinese novel #english translation #yaoi novel #song qinshi #yue wuhuan

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lovestrucked-again · 4 years

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Delirium | Mafia

Summary: After being kidnapped and claimed by the notorious mafia leader, he offers you a 7 day period where you’ll be given the option after of staying or leaving. Until then, you’re stuck, whether you like it or not.

Genre: smuT Pairing: Mafia leader X female reader Word count: 2.2k

Warning: SMUT, non-consent sex, fingering, Explicit content, kidnapping, mafia gang, possessive, toxic, yandere like personality, unprotected, marking, multiple orgasms, rough, orgasm denial, begging, orgasm control, praise, teasing, also safe sex please this isn't something you should follow

Please don’t read this if you’re uncomfortable. A very obvious statement but this SERIES is purely fictional, it is unacceptable in real life and should not be taken lightly. Part 2 | Part 3

Day 1

"And what is this beautiful lady here for today?" Taeyong asks his second in charge, as he drags you into an office and shoves you into a chair. "She saw me shoot the rat." Jaehyun states, and then shrugs. "You know I don't kill kids." "You’re calling her a child?" Taeyong asks, suddenly amused.

“I wouldn’t say she’s a kid,” Yuta scoffs, moving from his position against the wall to study you intently. Jaehyun follows after and looks at you, just as intently as Yuta is. He smiles and nods like he has an epiphany. "The ponytail confused me,” Jaehyun states. Taeyong chuckles to himself before quickly clearing his throat to cover up his entertainment. The two men clear from your view, retreating behind as Taeyong makes his way over to you. Your mind races through the possibilities of what the man may do to you, clearly he had power. However, he kneels in front of your tucked back form and just looks up at you. "Jaehyun tells me you saw him kill someone?" Taeyong asks, murmuring the question to you softly. You don't respond and he lets out a heavy sigh. “I’d like you to say something baby,” he says, placing a cold hand on your knee.

“Well, he’s wrong.” You take a minute to retrieve your thoughts, what would be safe to say? What could you say to avoid the possibility of death? “The sun was in my eyes and all I heard was a car backfiring." “Hmm.” Taeyong fights back the smirk forming on his lips and stands up, brushing the invisible dust off his pants to turn back to the boys. “I’ll keep her.”

The next time you were conscious your surroundings were dark. At first the darkness of the room deceived you, or your eyes were confused and dazzled by the sudden change in environment. For a minute or two you could make out nothing at all but dark lumps of furniture, the mass of the chest of drawers by the wall, and the dark patch where the bed stood in the centre of the floor.

"I knew it," you whisper to yourself shaking your head in the darkness as you lean against a wall in the closed room. "Knew what?" A voice asks curiously. You bolt up sitting straight against the wall, slapping your hand over your mouth in regret. You hear light footsteps approaching you and the faint outline of a figure becomes visible. “What did you say baby?” Taeyong pushes, wanting to hear everything out of your mouth. You crawl back along the wall until your left cornered in the room, feeling his breath against your neck. “Tell me.” He whispers, a black figure now covering your view from everything.

"I-I rolled out of bed this morning and hit my head on the nightstand." You stutter, your hand instinctively reaching to feel the bump formed on your temple. Taeyong gently pulls your hair back to look and the sudden interaction causes you to jump.

“And?” He whispers, stroking your temple softly. "A-and then I missed the bus and had to walk." You mumble, keeping your gaze on the floor. Taeyong doesn't reply with anything, just humming in response.

"What's your name?" He asks, he’s breath now getting closer. Again your left contemplating on how much you should say. Should I lie? “Baby, I don't like to be kept waiting.” "Y/N.” "You’re superstitious aren’t you Y/N?" "Yes," you reply and he hums in response, "and bad things come in threes." "This is your third?" Taeyong asks trying not to laugh. "Yes.”

“I think your wrong baby; I don't think you’ll classify this as a bad thing.” Taeyong murmurs with a wicked tone into your ear.

* * *

You struggle to regain consciousness, feeling your eyelids drooping every time you tried to open. Automatically you try and rub them but realise, you can’t. Your hands were over your head, cuffed against the headboard. As you jerked them, the metal would rub harder against your skin, causing a yelp to leave from your mouth. You looked around in the dim lighting, searching for help in your surroundings. Your eyes lock with his.

“Hey baby.” He’d removed his black leather jacket and was now in black jeans and a tee shirt, sitting on a chair with a book in his hand, watching you with amusement. He didn't move, didn't do anything, just sat and watched as you struggled against the handcuff on the headboard.

Taeyong puts the book on the nightstand, sauntering over to the bedside to sit beside you, his hip touching yours. He caresses your face very tenderly, brushing stray hairs away from your eyes. There was something so creepy about him but despite that, to your horror, you could feel the merest tingling between your legs. No you fucking don’t you scold yourself.

Taeyong sees you scowl at his touch, and he smiles to himself, delighted by the resistance you were putting up.

“Y/N,” He says, his voice calming but authoritative. “Listen very carefully to me, I think you’ve figured this out already but I’m not a patient man when people ignore me.” He stares at you with no emotion as you speak and you move your glance, focusing on his lips instead, remembering how kind he was in the previous encounter. “Baby, I don't want to hurt you okay? ….. at least not where it’s visible.” He mutters.

You feel your stomach turn at the threat and push away all the gentle impressions you first had of him, suddenly aware how badly you had misread him. You nod wildly, not wishing to anger him any further.

Taeyong traces his hand down your face, stroking your cheek and then down to your chin, your neck and then finally resting on your breasts, still covered by fabric. Once there he spends some time stroking and squeezing, gradually increasing the pressure until his fingers are gently digging in. When his fingers finally slip through the fabric of your blouse and bra, you whimper at the tingling travelling through your body. Taeyong chuckles hearing your sound and pulls his hand back out as your body arches up drawn for his touch.

“Baby if you promise to be quiet I’ll unlock these handcuffs okay? How does that sound?” He asks, reaching into the drawer beside him for the set of keys. You nod desperately, eager to have your hands back. Taeyong smiles, moving around your body to unlock your wrists. You pull your hands back to your body, rubbing the at the marks already indented in your skin. You look at the marks in the dim lighting, seeing the possibility of a bruise already forming. Taeyong helps you sit up while you continue to examine your wrists. He uses your distracted moment to attack and you don't realise what he’s been doing until it’s too late already.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

“I’ll be gentle okay? Just look at me.” He murmurs, using one hand to delicately cup your face to stare at him. The other hand continues to remove your clothing and you help him unconsciously, lifting your arms or legs up when required, still staring into his eyes.

Suddenly the weight on the bed is lifted and Taeyong disappears behind the bathroom door, leaving you to the sound of your heavy breathing. You pick up the faint sound of a zip being undone and he walks back in, fully exposed. There was no point lying to yourself but he was in fact, one of the most handsome men that you’ve ever seen. His muscular figure complimented his height and the dark hair and skin tone glowed against the dim lighting of the room.

As your sitting on the bed still in your own daze, he approaches you, pushing you down softly into the sheets. He leans down, hovering above you, nipping at your shoulder. You gasp in surprise and Taeyong takes advantage of this, forcing his way into your mouth and touching your tongue with his. He feels you shiver under his body as he runs a hand down your stomach, your muscles jumping with excitement and your heart thudding against your chest.

Slowly Taeyong climbs in between your legs, as you spread them wider unconsciously, letting your body’s lust take over. His fingertip trails along your stomach, getting closer to your flower. Brushing against the folds, you moan, yearning for more and he smiles into the kiss. Stop. Your hand reaches down to his wrist, trying to pull his arm away but he holds still, easily fighting against you. He continues, dipping a finger lightly into your folds and finding your clit.

The sudden touch brings your hands against the bed sheets, gripping onto it in pleasure as you choke on your own saliva. Taeyong rubs in circles, adding digits in and moving faster with each time you moan until your clamping your legs around his hand, cumming.

“So fast?” He asks, amused as your calming down your heavy breaths. He lets you take a moment to regain your composure before he’s back to nipping against your skin, leaving trails of kisses against your collarbone. In a matter of minutes his mouth has travelled down to your swollen and wet lips, coated in your own juice. You watch in shock as his eyes focus on you, running a tongue over your clit while pushing a finger inside simultaneously.

“Fuck.” You yelp, your head going back against the pillows as your back arches at the touch with the contact of his tongue.

“What a pretty princess you are.” Taeyong whispers, blowing against your clit after letting out a groan. “I don't know how much longer I can wait.”

He moves back up to kiss you, letting you taste the mix of arousal. His stiffening cock skimming around your thighs, waiting to penetrate. The moment the tip of his cock brushes against your cunt lips, you cry out in pleasure. Your body was already being tested with its sensitivity and the erotic thoughts left you with all reasoning flown out the window. Your hands reach around over his neck, pulling his body down closer to you.

The contact of his cock grazing against you, left you panting and whining and all you could think about was this fore-coming feeling. However, Taeyong had other plans. He was coating his cock head around the folds of your lips, rubbing against it with slight pressure, teasing.

“Baby do you want this?” Taeyong whispers, in between the breaths of your wet kisses. You look at him, blinking at the unexpected question while his eyes are boring into you. You had already labelled him as the villain in this situation but deep down, you already knew, this was what you were lusting for. Your sexual hunger for this was overpowering you and he knew it. “What did I say about patience?” He asks, using his arms to hover over you, distancing his body away from you. You involuntarily let out a whine and Taeyong swallows heavily at the sound. “Answer me baby.”

“Pl-please.” You whisper, tugging his body back towards you. He rises up over you, positioning his cock at your entrance.

And then he pushes himself in driving deep into your core with one strong forceful stroke and you cry out putting your arms around Taeyong and burying your face against his neck. You can hear him letting out soft pretty words, soothing you as he holds still, letting you adjust. He waits until your body relaxes before moving slowly in and out of you.

Your body quivers as the pleasure kicks in and the feeling of his incredibly large cock throbbing inside you leaves you gasping for air.

“Faster.” You cry out, bringing your hips to match his pace. His hands are holding you around the hips, easily helping himself slam in against you as your second orgasm hits. You scream, crying out in pleasure as your body starts shaking violently, his fierce pummelling still continuing.

“Fuck,” He growls, moving at a savage pace and driving harder when he feels his balls tighten and you scream again, clamping your legs around his body while your pussy clamps on his cock. His breathing comes in short gasps as he releases himself, filling you.

After several minutes pass with his body pressed against yours, the heavy breathing coming from the two of you, and with your arms wrapped around his body, he finally lifts himself up. You lay still, feeling cum overflow out from your hole, seeping out and trickling around your thigh. He brings his face down to you and you close your eyes, thinking he’s about to kiss you, but he places a peck against your forehead, collapsing beside you.

You fall asleep like that, his cum mixed with yours, dried against your thighs. His fingers interlocked with yours as he sleeps in only boxers, using the single blanket to keep you warm.

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hakasims · 3 years

Text

Shitty Luca Movie Recap, Episode 4

Can’t Watch Nina, Even For Luca?

Don’t Worry, Me Neither. Goodbye.

...

Ok, fine, I’ll talk about the damn thing.

So it’s a warm September night, and I’m in the mood for a Luca Marinelli feature. In my infinite wisdom I choose Nina. “It’s directed by a woman,” I reason, “and women know what’s up.” ‘What’s up’ in this particular case is code for ‘how to frame beautiful men for the female gaze’. Because women can be auteurs, too, and being an auteur means making movies about your own personal wank material.

Turns out, sometimes a woman’s wank material consists less of a gorgeous male form and more of fascist architecture. We’ll discuss the former in due time, but for now, what’s Nina even about? Well, at its core it’s a simple story about a young woman who doesn’t know what she wants, set against the backdrop of the Rome that is almost entirely empty due to most people leaving for the summer. This could have been a fairly straightforward coming-of-age film, but Nina is too indie and up its own ass for that. Literally nothing of note happens in this movie, and it’s all long static wide shots of empty streets, endless stairs, and domineering largeness of Rome’s most famous fascist buildings such as the Palace of Italian Civilization, the Sapienza University of Rome, Palazzo dei Congressi, and, most prominently, the Fountains Hall. (Google what they look like if you don’t know.) Now, I’m guessing those locations weren’t chosen by accident. They could have easily added to the creepiness of the movie — and I’m assuming creepiness was intended; otherwise how do you explain these hoverboarding nuns?

Anyway, the employment of the locations could have been atmospheric and thematic had the shots not been so bland. But they are. Bland, flat, and always looking the same no matter what is happening in the scene. Usually audiences are willing to sit through slow uneventful movies because of interesting visuals or characters worthy of attention, but Nina has neither. The titular character herself is tedious. Even her bad fashion sense is bad in a boring way that doesn’t tell you anything about her. Is she stuck in perpetual adolescence? Is she searching to get in touch with her sensuality? Who knows. The only thing I’m certain of is that she needs to learn to tuck her tops into her bottoms.

Nina spends her days giving singing lessons, going to Chinese calligraphy classes, eating cake, exercising and taking midnight walks in the empty city. She wants to go to China in September — it’s the closest thing to a goal she has — yet she’s done no preparations, and instead of learning Mandarin she’s studying calligraphy. And she’s real bad at it, too.

There are reoccurring visual elements in the movie besides the vast emptiness: stairs, white columns, a jogger, a red dress, animals… You’d think those were very straightforward symbols, but they’re used too sporadically and inconsistently to hold any meaning. For example, animals. Nina is tasked with both helping out in a pet store and house-sitting an apartment with a German shepherd (a good boy named Homer), a guinea pig and a tank full of fish. The instructions she’s given are absurd, like feeding the dog sleeping pills and putting the guinea pig on a diet. And then there’s a supposedly American TV show always playing in and out of diegesis about dogs living in cages and swimming happily in pools, and it looks and sounds like a video off the political section on the dog version of YouTube. It contains timeless classics like “You are a dog born in the age of consumerism” and “Depression is an evil illness now spreading amongst dogs of every breed, dogs belonging to every social class.” The butter commercial from Crazy Ex-Girlfriend could never. And I wish the whole movie was as surreal as this TV program but unfortunately it’s as bland and directionless as Nina herself.

And boy is it directionless. There aren’t any subplots in the movie, no cause and effect, no acts, no structure, no flow; only scenes that happen, and I can’t even find any reasons for the order in which they happen. The scenes also don’t start or end; they just interrupt each other, not leaving any emotional impact. For example, there’s a scene where Nina sees her future self. She’s on one of those midnight walks with the good boy Homer when she sees a couple being romantic. The woman is wearing a long red dress, and the man is in all black. The shot is wide, so it’s impossible to see their faces, but the woman is obviously Nina:

And the man is definitely Luca. I recognized his ass. I’m not joking, guys. It’s his ass:

Also I was later directed to the website of the photographer who took the set photos, and yes, it’s Nina and Luca.

I never forget an ass.

Anyway, Nina, who at this point hasn’t properly met Luca’s character, Fabrizio, sees herself from the future acting romantic with him, and doesn’t react. We don’t even know if she recognizes herself or him or whether it’s even a real scene or a dream. How are we supposed to empathize with a heroine who isn’t allowed to react to her environment?

Whatever, it’s time to talk about Fabrizio. He plays the cello and he’s obnoxious. That’s it. He first appears as a patron of Caffé Palombini, the real-world café Nina frequents (and buys her cakes at). She’s drinking her usual milk shake and reading. At some point, their eyes meet, but neither says anything, and then Nina gets up and runs after the good boy Homer who decided to take a little stroll by himself. She leaves all her things behind: her milk shake, her handbag, at least three books, a whole stack of paper for calligraphy, and her diary. It’s obvious she’s going to come back as soon as she gets the dog. And yet before her feet are even out of frame, Fabrizio gets up, goes to her table and fucking steals her diary!

His next several appearances are random and sporadic, and it looks like he’s stalking Nina, but by the time of his first actual scene she is following him for some reason. Obviously, he can’t let a woman outcreep him, so he ambushes her:

He tells her blankly, “You’re following me,” but I think this scene deserves better dialogue. Thankfully, we have a whole well of predator/maiden media to pull from.

Though I personally believe this is the most appropriate line:

Fabrizio lets Nina know he has her diary in the dickiest way possible: he quotes from it to let her know that he’s read it. He then informs her that he’ll only give it back to her if she continues following him. And it’s not blackmail; “it’s an agreement.” What an asshole! I’m weeping for the dignified cuckoldry of Joseph.

And what was the purpose of that “agreement” plot point if the next time they meet is by chance? Quirky love interest writing, duh. So quirky that the accidental meeting happens when Nina is walking past a phone booth where Fabrizio is… doing a phone prank? I don’t know, I got nothing. Anyway, he’s annoyed their meeting is unintentional on Nina’s part, but he returns her diary, and I guess they start dating? He watches her sing once with what could only be described as a complete absence of emotions:

In the next scene she watches him play the cello after which they go on a date. Nina is wearing the red dress from the vision, but Fabrizio’s shirt is different. I fucking give up.

Their next (second?) date is a romantic dinner on Nina’s roof, and they’re dancing for entirely too long. She then tells him she’s scared of how much she’s enjoying his company, gives him a ridiculously chaste kiss goodnight and… completely ghosts him afterwards. And if you didn’t dislike Fabrizio before, you will now as he starts calling Nina at ungodly hours (including 5:30 am) and leaving her very whiny and increasingly more passive-aggressive, entitled, and accusatory voicemails. At some point he even leaves a voicemail for the fucking dog! He’s like, “Homer, I’m worried, meet me at the café.” Again, quirky love interest writing: extortion, phone pranks and a voicemail for a dog.

Fabrizio then lets Nina know he’ll be leaving town in three days in case she’d like to see him one last time or whatever. And she never fucking does! In any other movie she’d be chasing through the airport, but here she just drops him like he’s a well-tucked shirt! She tells the kid she’s befriended (she hangs out with an eleven-year-old boy the whole movie, don’t worry about it) that she’s afraid to be “like everyone else”, with a job and a boyfriend, so she doesn’t even say goodbye to Fabrizio. At some point she goes for a walk with the good boy Homer, and Fabrizio is also there, and they just miss each other. Even fate isn’t interested in that romance.

And then all the fascist buildings get covered in gigantic paper figurines, and the red-dressed Nina runs into Fabrizio’s arms. Because of course.

Nina is one of those movies where the main theme — a struggle to grow up — is obvious, but the rest of the elements are a mess only the writer-director could decipher. And I don’t really care. Again, I had to read Japanese postmodernists at university. What I do care about is the male form I mentioned at the start. I know I have no one but myself to blame for my expectations of how the director should have framed Luca’s body or face, but it’s one thing to frame him blandly and a completely different thing to isolate him as the only character (or actor) she’s deeply uninterested in filming competently. Everyone else in the movie gets their fair share of close-ups and decent lighting whilst Luca — whose name is literally second in the credits — gets, um, neglected.

This is his introduction:

These are literally all his close-ups:

Should I even count this last one? What’s with the lighting? Like, this is as well-lit as his face gets:

Oh, the shot is too wide and you can’t see his face properly? Well, tough poop:

Are you kidding me with this shit?

Nina may not be objectively the most terrible of the movies Luca’s been in: I’d argue both Mary of Nazareth and L’ultimo terrestre are worse, as is Slam, whose time’s a-coming. Nor is it the movie where Luca appears the least (The Great Beauty’s literal one minute of screen time is saying hi). But it’s the only movie I have no reasons to watch: it’s blandly shot, poorly structured, badly themed — and it’s actively obstructing Luca’s beauty and charisma. So no matter which film you’ll ask me to do next, at least in terms of the visual component of my posts, we have nowhere to go but up.

#luca marinelli #nina #nina 2012 #sh*tty luca movie recap

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saphirered · 3 years

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Hi I was wondering if you would write an Essek x reader (gender neutral) where they are having a relaxing day out and the reader teaches Essek to make flower crowns, and it just allot of fluff and wholesome stuff.

Here you go! Enjoy. I really needed this type of wholesomeness. Thank you for the request. 😘

Seated among the plants and flowers at the base of the tree inside the Xhorhaus, you’re focussing on your surroundings, eyes closed. A meditation-like state keeps you grounded and aware of all around you regardless of lack of visual. Every breath you take makes you feel much lighter, floating in your own consciousness. It’s a comfortable and familiar feeling.

It could have been minutes, or hours. You’re not entirely sure but at least you know if someone needs you or you’ll be going somewhere, your friends will come get you. For now you were blessed with a moment of peace, away from the troubles of the world outside, shielded by the colourful flowers, fresh smell of herbs and the soft glow of the fairy lights.

But your peace and quiet was interrupted. Usually you’re very much aware of footsteps approaching, but when the individual doesn’t walk, taking care to avoid the greens, you’re left a oblivious to the presence. The clearing of a throat makes you nearly jump out of your skin.

“My apologies. I don’t mean to interrupt you…” You see the sheepish expression of the white haired wizard floating at a comfortable distance, turn apologetic.

“Essek!” You breathe trying to calm your pounding heart, hand to your chest.

“I am so sorry. I did not mean to scare you. I should have announced my presence.” The mixture of embarrassment and regret remain present in both his behaviour and voice as you get up and give him a once over.

“It’s quite alright. I didn’t expect any visitors.” You smile assuring him no harm was done as you get to your feet brushing off your trousers. Essek is a hard to read individual but even the most oblivious of people could tell something is off. Strange. You tilt your head pressing your lips together.

“Is everything alright? You seem a bit out of it if I’m honest.” Essek’s eyes fall to the floor in front of him trying to find the correct words to answer your question; unusual for someone usually so quick with words. You take a few steps closer to him and take his hand in yours giving it a squeeze letting him know you’re there as you wait for his reply.

“I… I am unsure how to phrase this correctly nor in an appropriate way.” He speaks caught in his own mind still. His eyes are searching still focussed on the ground and your entwined hands. You place your free hand on his shoulder, the gesture pulling him out of his head and instead focus on you.

“Try me.”

“I-. This day- These last few… weeks, have been absolute chaos. With everything going on I have not had a moment of peace in a long time.” Essek’s shoulders drop and his feet touch the ground with a soft tap muted by the mossy floor. You pity him. So young and so much pressure, people depending on him. No one should have to deal with all of that alone.

“I’ve always found diving into my work head first ignoring the world contained the chaos and turned it into order instead, something I could control but now I cannot even read a single sentence, transcribe a single equation or confront a single person without feeling like my mind is about to explode.” A weight lifts by the mere vocalising of the words, tension dropping from Essek’s physique as it does from his mind.

“I didn’t know who else to turn to. For some reason, you always have an air of calmness, around you. Whenever we are in the same space, you radiate peace. It’s strange to admit but I think even only spending but moments in your presence now has done more than any and everything I have tried to achieve even a semblance of rest.” You’re not used to Essek being so open and upfront with anyone but you’re glad for it. Knowing you can confide in someone and trust them is one thing. Actually doing so, something else entirely.

“Thank you for your time and once more my sincere apologies for scaring you. I will leave you to your business once more.” Essek is about to pull his hand from yours taking a step back but you don’t let go and step with.

“When’s the last time you’ve taken a break, Shadowhand?” You’re sure you already know the answer or have enough of an idea to estimate but you ask nonetheless. Essek thinks for a moment and frowns.

“I can’t recall.”

“There’s your problem then. You’re stressed, overworked and in desperate need of a break. Come on. I have an idea.” You lightly tug at his hand pulling him along to the base of the tree and sit him down. You take one of the garden scissors and begin cutting some flowers, branches and other things and collect them in a wicker basket as Essek watches you move from planter to planter and pots making sure to leave enough behind and take only what the plants themselves allow you to take.

It might seem a little strange to some, as you’re standing there, a nonverbal conversation with plant life. Some might think you’re crazy but you only acknowledge life in all forms and while you surely could wave your hand and restore what you took, there’s beauty in the natural order of things as your Firbolg friend might agree.

Essek watches you go in awe, studying your every action with an admiration. Before, as he admitted, there had been the radiating calmness from you that could affect those around you but watching you interact, for the lack of a better word, with the greenery, gave that a whole new meaning. Serenity. You are serenity itself.

You take the wicker basket, now filled with flowers of every colour, branches of green and brown of varying lengths, set it down at the base of the tree taking a seat next to Essek.

“What’s this for?” Essek picks up a yellow flower spinning it between his fingers.

“This,” You refer to the basket and the flower held between his fingers. “is how I clear my mind when the pressure of the world becomes too much to handle.” You take a couple of the branches, check the lengths and start twisting and weaving them together adding flowers into the coil as you go.

“This is how you keep the chaos at bay?” Essek questions watching your fingers work braiding together the delicate material.

“People often assume peace is the absence of chaos but it’s not. Nor is order. If you build a dam the pressure of the water will continue building as long as the water flows. You can’t stop it. You can’t prevent it. You can however shape it in such ways you gain more from it than it from you. It can be found in the simplest of things.” You weave in some deep red roses, your pride as the Xhorassian environment is not kind enough for them to survive.

“Whenever the world comes crashing down and I wish the ground would swallow me whole I find a place to sit down and let myself be consumed by my surroundings. Sometimes I just sit doing nothing at all. Other times I draw, or sing or write, and when I’m lucky enough to find just the right place, I’ll make as many of these as it takes me to return to my peace.” You come to the end twisting the final branches to complete the final circle shape, inspecting your work and adjusting as necessary until you deem it truly completed.

“Whenever I use the chaos to create, little by little serenity comes along and I try to bring that feeling along, passing it on to those around me, because gods know, they can use it.” The both of you smile and with a last adjustment of a flower you place the flower crown on Essek’s head.

Confusion, happiness, delight, peace. All emotions running through Essek’s brain throughout this conversation enhanced the moment you place the ornament of braided and woven flowers onto his head, as light as a feather. Who knew something so small and… insignificant could mean so much, do so much?

“Why don’t you try it for yourself? See if this works for you? Or perhaps if not, it might give you inspiration to find something that will.” Essek nods taking the red crown off his head and inspecting it closer. While he certainly has an eye for intricate patterns and structures the construction of such a thing as a simple flower crown goes far beyond him and instead just leaves him completely oblivious and confused.

Seeing Essek trying to figure out the collective of braided flowers and branches might have been one of the funniest things you’ve seen from the man. The intricacies of Dunamis and the most difficult of equations or studies prove next to no problem for the wizard, but a flower crown manages to break him? How could that not be funny. You laugh even though you tried to fight it and Essek sends you a playful glare.

“Since you seem to find this so funny perhaps I should teach you the many complexities of advanced Dunamis? As a thank you of course.” You can see the hints of a smile.

“However much I’d love that, for the sake of both of our peace and sanities, I’d hold off on that for now. We’ll start with something much simpler. Like a daisy chain.” You begin pulling out a pile of white flowers and putting them next to the basket.

“This is how you start…” You begin explaining how to loop the stem of the flower around the one that came before it, the closer together, the denser the chain will become.

While Essek struggles at first, your explanation and guiding hands and pointers as he works result in a decent looking daisy chain. You slowly work your way up to more difficult flowers and eventually the branches, spending the next several hours going through the motions, Essek’s troubles long since forgotten. This may have been the first time but won’t be the last time both of you find your serenity and comfort in colourful soft petals.

#critical role x reader #critrole x reader #mighty nein x reader #essek x reader #essek thelyss x reader #critical role #essek #essek thelyss #critrole

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everythingthemoontouches · 3 years

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Hi lovely soul! How are you doing? I was wondering if I could get spiritual insight on regards to my actual major. I am contemplating on quitting it but I don't know if I should do it because of my dad. I am studying architecture but my parents are infatuated with this idea more than I am, and I've think is that because of their pressure that I want to quit or I don't know if I should stick with the major, really is a complicated case I have here and is to short to write here but hope for urhelp

To start off, your ideal major / career

The King of Pentacles is a card of tradition, his power derived from his lineage 👑 I don't think it would be a bad idea for you to continue in this line of work. Moreover, he has the ability to generate massive income through earthy fields. Taurus being a fixed earth sign is all about things that endure.something that you can touch and is beautiful to look at. 🥝🍇🫐🥭Just like pretty seasonal, exotic fruit is. The Wine making 🍷imagery is hard to miss. Having said that, since the 7 of pentacles also turned up, I believe your interests may lie more in horticulture or cultivation. Cash crops, sustainable farming practices, etc. Perhaps even garden / landscape / exterior design? Plants are definitely involved since a lot of Virgo(mutable earth) related cards turned up later in the reading.

Do you have a Taurus midheaven?

Challenges you'd face if you kept to this major :

Death + 8 of cups

You can't keep doing the same thing over and over. Have to adopt some new patterns. There's a constant challenge of reinventing things, keeping them fresh. The same plans won't always work. Maybe take up a computer oriented design course. There are some tried and tested truths if the industry taht you would have to accept. Lots of new beginnings. And what do we say about new beginnings? Something must end first. So if you're someone who does not like being challenged to grow, take on the new, adapt, then thus is not the field for you. In this line if work, you may face a lot of rejection. Why? Because it's a service based industry and your clients have a lot of options. A lot of times when people go shopping they are not quite sure of what they want. They want to survey a bunch of options, potential make, design, material before they finalize their purchase. This could be a little disheartening. You must be prepared for some to walk away and not let it wound your pride. Stay true to yourself, keep a good work ethcu and know what your values, rates, style, modus operandi is. Go with the flow. Major Scorpio energy here. And a bit of Pisces with the man walking into the forest. You may also feel like there is something better out there for you. Also as the King of Pentacles, you don't wanna be told what to dooooo 🙄😅

#amiriteoramirite like the 9 of swords is just there like, nuuuh, I gotta fix everything, and definitely take their work to bed, brainstorming how they're gonna do so well in the morning.

What are your skills that shine through in your ideal line of work?

Need for things to be perfect. Overthinking. Attention to detail.

Creativity. Femininity.

Ability to experiment and look the fool

9 of swords | Queen of Pentacles | The Fool

Planets : Mercury (Virgo primarily), Uranus, Venus

You have this incredible ability to think outside the box, use your imagination to create something of value and beauty, as well as the work ethic to stress over it and burn the midnight oil. You are careful, don't miss the slightest detail, adding small finishing touches taht others would miss.

The King of Pentacles and Queen of Pentacles both came up in your reading so I'm bound to think you'd generate wealth anytime you work on building something tangible. This could have to do with designing a garden, to landscaping or architecture. Perhaps even something along the lines of wine making or Vinyard management. The Queen of Pentacles is super fertile and, along with her male counterpart has the ability to help others make money. You do this in a work environment where you're allowed / have the freedom to think for yourself and bring your unique personality in to work. Kind of like a ' I have a baron, so let me use it' I'm not saying you have issues with authority, just that you work better when you're trusted to do it right on your own. Your bosses have to give you some creative autonomy and trust in the decisions you make. I understand that you are second guessing your major because of how high your families' hopes and dreams are. But love, if we take all that out of the equation, give you your own firm, would you be happy to take charge?

Correct me if I'm wrong, I feel like in a sea of calm, it would be something you'd treat quite reverentially. As I was meditating before your reading, connecting with your guides I felt myself tearing up a little as I thought of that calm centre, 🌪️👁️‍🗨️🌪️ eye of the storm, within you that knows your strengths, skills and desires. I think she'd want for you to take a moment to lean into your inner voice, removed from what everyone else wants and expects of you. You don't have to do anything you don't like. Just don't miss out on something that you would love.

Have you wtached atypical? Casey transfers to Clayton on an athletes scholarship, and then freezes during a track meet due to a panic attack. She stops running because of what a chore the prep school turned it into. She finally goes back to her old school because running is soemthing she has always loved and she didn't want to stop. She wanted it to bring her joy the way it had at her old school.

I'm thinking of someone who works with communities in beautiful hilly towns on holiday and vacation homes /inn/ resort. As Taurus and virgo are both earth signs, I really think the soil/ plants itself could be a good field for you to work in. Or fresh produce.

So should you stay in architecture? What path should you take?

I mean. It looks like it's made for you. There was also temperance so, perhaps take up a dual degree or an allied subject in an adjacent field? Something that compliments it?.

Honestly, I feel if you were to drop the course and take up something that's close to it but that you're more allied with, it could be a time of healing. The rainbow lies behind her though, signifying that you could be ignoring a possibly beautiful thing.

It's your decision at the end of the day and the cards can only say what good can come of certain paths you take. The fairy of the Divine hand urges you to think, connect with your deeper wisdom. Decide whether you will join in with what was tempting you,the easy way out, or will you watch a little Longer and make the wise decision instead?

Hope this helps. All the best 💖

Please let me know what you decide?

#Acceptance #Transformation #Old must give way to the new #Death card #Go with the flow #Venusian earth #Mutable earth #Mercurial #Mercury career #Architecture #Landscaping #Winemaking #Vinyard management #Tarot readings #Education tarot #Career reading

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maybedefinitely404 · 4 years

Text

Not Your Typical

Genre: college AU, hurt/comfort (kind of?)

Pairings: romantic Demus, Logicality, and Prinxiety

Content: some language, autistic character, sensory overload, mentions of losing friends in the past, anxiety, unintentional self harm, Roman is kind of a jerk but he regrets it, food mentions, unable to eat certain consistencies, beach/water/swimming, Janus being a disaster gay, ASL, selective mutism.

Word count: 6k

Comments: Like always, I don’t intend for these to be so long. Holy cow.

Janus is written based mostly on my experiences as someone with autism, and how it’s affected my childhood/relationships/daily life. No one’s experience is the same.

Janus was always alone. Alone, not lonely.

Most of the time, that is.

His whole childhood was an endless cycle of make a friend, weird them out, be alone. Find another friend, weird them out, be alone. And sometimes it hurt, yeah, but he got used to it. At home, he spent the entire day in his room, assembling structures out of legos before tearing them down and starting over. Sometimes he’d build something really cool, and that would stay up for a long time. He didn’t have any siblings, and his parents didn’t give a whoop as long as the floor was generally clear, so no one ever bothered the space ships or towers or just really long lines that stretched from one wall to the other. He liked those.

Things changed when he got to middle school. Life started getting real, people became more than just recess friends, and that unsettled him. He made a couple close friends, friends that he really opened up to only for them to leave him when he became too much. He just couldn’t help it though; he couldn’t help the way he bounced when he got so excited he couldn’t breathe, or how he couldn’t use words when he got overwhelmed by the touch and the noise, or how he couldn’t stop talking about his favorite shows or books. He was labeled as childish. It was like a label had been stuck to his chest that read “avoid at all costs”, and people did.

So he relearned how to be alone. He put a lava lamp next to his bed for when he needed something constant to look at, he got a collection of chewy necklaces and stim toys that never left his room. After a lot of research, he convinced his parents to buy him a weighted blanket for when every touch was too light, too agonizingly light, and he needed something firm to ground him. At school, or really around anyone, he learned to control his more obvious stimming and touch sensitivity by staying in oversized sweaters and jeans. He taught himself basic sign language for when he couldn’t talk, even though he knew his parents wouldn’t understand him. They took forever to learn basic signs, for ‘water’ or ‘quiet’ or ‘no’, and both eventually got frustrated and gave up. As if their frustration was anything compared to his.

It was going great, not perfect but better than before, until he graduated high school. Suddenly he realized he was about to move halfway across the country, to a new environment with new triggers and new people who didn’t understand that he wasn’t frowning because he was pissed, but because smiling when you didn’t understand the reasoning was exhausting. Why do people smile and greet you when they enter the room? Why couldn’t that be more of an… understood thing? I’m here, you’re here now, we both know that, so why bring so much attention to it? For once his parents were kind enough to help him out, taking him to the campus during the summer to get acquainted with the surroundings and learn the map by heart. He talked to the admission’s counselor, explaining his disability and why that meant he couldn’t be on the side of campus near the highway, because the constant noise and common sirens would make him explode. They were eventually able to move him to one of the other buildings, one with apartments instead of dorms, even though that was generally only for third and fourth years. It took a load off his shoulders; less noise, less people. The one thing he couldn’t do was meet his roommates before the year started.

The school got them into contact, and since he was the last to be assigned to the six person pod, they added him into their pre-established group chat. The other five already had nicknames, ranging from ‘Dad’ to ‘Rat Bastard’, and he immediately felt like an outsider. Not like that was new to him, though. Except, he didn’t stay like that. When one of the group, ‘Nerdy Mcnerd’ on the chat (he’d long forgotten their actual names), asked him what he liked and he immediately sent a list of special interests and hyperfixations, the top being snakes, it was like a door had been opened. Nerdy Mcnerd was a fan of space as well, and the two stayed up until all hours of night on their own chat discussing space and their place in the universe. Rat Bastard had an affinity for what people would categorize as “creepy animals”; octopi and squid, spiders, star-nosed moles, and most importantly, snakes. Their conversations mostly involved dopey pictures of snakes and unintelligible key smashes and emojis. Emo Disaster shared his love of darker themed TV shows, and they started a couple new ones at the same time, constantly updating each other with theories. When he mentioned his major was psychology, Dad was immediately overjoyed to be sharing the major with someone, and offered to help him study for the harder classes. He didn’t hit it off quite so well with Princey, who was put off by Janus’ so called “moodiness” and didn’t trust him.

When they finally met, it was supposed to be great. Janus knew the environment, somewhat knew his roommates, and was surprisingly excited for the new year. His joy was suddenly vanquished, however, as meeting these people face to face took a turn for the worse. Dad, Patton, immediately tried to go for the hug when he walked into the apartment for the first time, and was slightly taken aback when Janus reared back so hard he hit his head on the wall. The glee disappeared and he apologized profusely, and that’s when Nerdy Mcnerd, Logan walked in, explaining that Patton was very physical. They were over it rather quickly, but Janus shuddered as soon as the other two turned to each other. They had already claimed one of the three rooms for themselves, so Janus chose the one furthest into the apartment. He dropped his suitcases next to one of the two beds with a deep sigh. The thought of a hug… no. It unsettled him greatly, made his skin crawl. Maybe one day, but not now.

Emo Disaster and Princey, Virgil and Roman, arrived later in the day, hand in hand, bickering animatedly when they walked into the apartment. They were greeted with a huge hug from Patton and a side hug from Logan, and that’s when Janus recalled that they had all been roommates the year prior and again, felt a small tinge of pain. He was still the odd one out. Virgil gave a two finger salute to where Janus was sitting curled up on one of the bar stools, knees pulled to his chest and for the first time, Janus didn’t feel compelled to give a forced smile in greeting. It was a relief. The small nod was all that was needed. Roman however, was a different story. When they happened to make eye contact for the first time, the taller man still standing in the doorway, Janus flinched. Hard. The man’s eyes burned through him, as if scouring through his brain, eyes so full of passion that Janus had to look away. Eye contact was only an issue for him sometimes, but with Roman, it physically hurt. Which only made the theatre major more suspicious of him. As he passed him on the way to get a glass of water, the taller man blurted out, “You’re a first year, why are you in a third year building?”, earning him a gentle smack from Virgil. He answered with a lame shrug and rushed back to his room, conceding to just go to sleep, regretting leaving his drink on the counter.

No one besides Janus was surprised when the door burst open at three am and a loud voice screamed, “I’M BACK, FUCKERS!” He was frozen in place, woken with such an adrenaline rush that he couldn’t move. Outside, the other four exited their rooms with varying levels of annoyance and delight, greeting the final member of the group. Remus, as Janus heard them proclaim, was his roommate, the only two dwellers not in a relationship. The gremlin burst into the room, a deranged smile on his face, and Janus wanted to cry. Why did he have to be stuck in a room with the loud one? But Remus saw the mismatched eyes poking out from under the blanket and with no hesitation, sunk to the floor next to the bed, still smiling but a million decimals softer.

“Hey, Snakey. Sorry to scare ya. I’m Remus, but you can still call me Rat Bastard if you want. Call me whatever, I don’t really get offended. You go back to sleep, I’m gonna get settled in. We can talk in the morning.”

Janus wasn’t planning to fall asleep, not with this new person in his room, but Remus was shockingly silent as he unloaded his things (he packed a bunch of garbage bags, not even a suitcase or box), and he couldn’t help the way his eyes slipped shut.

First semester came to a close, and he was equally delighted and horrified that everyone was staying on campus for break. It had become harder and harder for him to avoid movie nights, or family dinners (as Patton called them), or days they all went into town together. In the beginning, he put it off to being tired. Then, studying for exams. Now with school halted for nearly a month, he was out of excuses. It was getting to the point where he could feel the frustration from his roommates, and he wanted to admit how much he wanted to spend time with them, until his drawer full of secret stim toys and chewy necklaces called him back. At times, he let himself spend time with them. Baked something with Patton, talked about the stars with Logan, sat with Virgil as they studied, and it was good. He never was able to escape Roman’s cynical glares that made him absolutely shudder, but he got on much better with his twin.

Remus never minded if Janus only greeted him with a raised eyebrow, and he was okay to have more one sided conversations while Janus drew, or after a few weeks, stared unapologetically. Because god, there was so much about Remus that Janus couldn’t help but watch, even if a normal person would get uncomfortable by his wide and unblinking eyes. Luckily, Remus was no ordinary person. But the younger still kept the drawer to himself, only allowing himself to nom on the plastic or squeeze the orbeez filled squishy snake with intense fascination when he was alone. So every time he was with the others and felt the need to stim or infodump or was about to have a stress induced meltdown, he would excuse himself and leave without so much of a goodbye. He couldn’t, not in front of them. Every time he left, he could hear Roman’s quiet remarks about him that stung more than he wanted to admit.

He’d had so many people leave, people he allowed himself to get close to, only for them to see the side of himself he tried to hide. In his heart, he knew that part of him wasn’t bad. It was just him. Other people didn’t understand that, though. No matter how much he tried to convince himself that no one would judge him, or laugh at him because they weren’t like that, he was scared. The effort was wearing him thin, and it came to the point where he realized he had to tell them. He had to, or he would burst, and that would be way worse.

It was just three little words: I. Am. Autistic. And he’d explain everything, tell them about his stims and limits and how he needed space sometimes and hugs others, and spill everything about himself, and they’d accept him. They’d have to, right? Only, the night he was planning to blurt out the truth, something stopped him.

They were eating dinner, one of the only ones he’d attended in a while. Patton kept glancing at him from across the table as he picked half heartedly at his lasagna, distracted from the lively conversation between the twins and Virgil. The whole thing was speckled with bite sized pieces of mushrooms and zucchini, two of the foods that he couldn’t eat to save his life. The texture made him want to recoil into himself and scream and yank at his hair, and he’d learned early in life that that wasn’t a normal response to food. He wanted to explain to Patton that it wasn’t the meal itself he was avoiding, that it wasn’t Patton’s cooking that he didn’t like, it was just the texture of those two things.

Well, maybe that was a good gateway into his big announcement, if you could even call it that. It felt almost as scary as his coming out to his parents had been. If they didn’t take this well, he might be exiled from the group. If they tried to put up with them, they’d get irritated so quickly and slowly freeze him out. He really didn’t want that. It needed to happen though, he realized. How much worse would it be if one of them walked in on him having a meltdown, holding a pillow over his mouth to block his screams, biting almost animalistically on a necklace? How unsettled would they be if they saw him hitting his blanket pile out of repulsion of the feeling of his textbook pages? Better to warn them ahead of time. It was only luck that had gotten him this far.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Logan hit the table with the heel of his hand and let out an almost guttural scream before storming into his and Patton’s room, slamming the door behind him. Janus nearly fell backwards off his chair, matching Virgil’s surprised expression. Roman went silent, wincing slightly.

“What…” It was the first word he’d said the entire meal. Patton whipped his head towards him as if he’d forgotten he was there, a sudden sympathetic look on his face. He gave a weak smile.

“Sorry about that, kiddo. Logan has autism, sometimes he can’t handle the stimulus around him. Or maybe he just had a rougher day than I thought. I’ll check on him after dinner, give him some alone time.”

Logan has autism.

Oh my god.

It was like everything clicked into place. His passionate talk about topics he was interested in that could rival Janus’ (if he would ever let himself infodump like he wanted). His mannerisms, his occasional emotional outbursts, his rigorous unbreakable schedule, it all made sense. For a brief second, Janus was elated. Someone like him, someone who understood! And if they accepted Logan, maybe they would be able to understand him, even if they presented different areas of the spectrum.

But… how would that look? Janus had hidden away his neurodivergent traits for so long, repressed them until he felt like he would literally explode… what if they thought he was faking it? It’s not like they knew him well, not with the amount of time he avoided being around them. They might think he was lying to get attention, didn’t want to be left out. Wanted to be special.

Patton seemed to be waiting for a response, he noted. He gave a curt nod, hoping it displayed that he was unbothered by Logan’s disability, before giving a stupid excuse about some reading to finish over break and darting back to his room. Remus joined him later, saying nothing about the fact that Janus was huddled under his weighted blanket, no book in sight. He sat down in front of the bed, a common habit of his now, and began to quietly talk about some new dark fantasy story he was designing, his lilting voice soothing Janus to sleep.

Time passed, winter came and went, and the end of second semester was drawing near. Janus was still careful with the way he presented to the others. They had picked up that he didn’t like physical contact, and though they never said a word about it, Patton’s lasagna recipe shifted, kept changing, until it no longer included mushrooms and zucchini. Janus refused to believe it was for his sake, though. He tried to join them for a couple movie nights, but the constant fear of stimming made his anxiety spike, therefore finding the need to stim more compelling, until he had to leave. It was getting harder, however, now that it was that pleasant in-between time where he understood how his new profs worked but it wasn’t exam season yet. His excuses were dwindling. Like always, Roman made his stupid quips that hurt him more than was probably intended, and he’d finally had enough.

Maybe that’s why he was staring out at the open lake in front of him, hands playing absentmindedly with the hem of his shirt as Patton and Remus squealed, sprinting into the water without a second thought. One of their shirts had landed on Janus’ sandaled foot, and he quickly kicked it off as the light touch began to irritate him. Logan stood to his side, watching his boyfriend with an almost imperceivable smile.

“You guys could have helped carry stuff if you were just going to stand there!” Roman’s indignant voice carried over the lawn, muffled slightly by the pile of towels he was carrying. Virgil snorted, whether in agreement or at Princey’s expense, Janus didn’t know. Either way, he dumped his handful of lawn chairs unceremoniously onto the lawn at their feet.

“You two set these up then. I’m hot, I’m going swimming.”

“Damn right, you are,” Roman grinned. Virgil raised an eyebrow.

“Damn right I’m hot, or I’m going swimming?”

“Yes.” He didn’t give any of them a second to retort, scooping up a shrieking Virgil before sprinting them both into the water.

“They didn’t even take their shirts off,” Logan commented, picking up a chair from the pile and unfolding it. Janus quickly joined in, helping him set the four chairs into a line and placing the towels down in front of them. “Did you want to go swimming?”

Admittedly, Janus hadn’t actually gone swimming, much less to the beach, since he was a kid. He was lucky to have even found a swimsuit amongst his other barely worn clothing; how it had snuck into his suitcase, he didn’t know. The water looked inviting and it was hot, but right now he was exhausted from the long ride over in Remus’ truck, having to refrain from plugging his ear when it got too loud or maintain his breathing carefully when a leg touched his.

“Maybe in a bit. I’m kind of tired.”

Logan turned to look at him, dare he say scrutinizingly? He washed the expression away quickly, asking, “Would you like me to stay with you?”

“No, it’s okay,” Janus mumbled, “You go have fun. I’ll be fine, I like the quiet.” As if to punctuate his point, a child screamed from the playground, making them both flinch.

“Are you positive?”

“Yes. Go enjoy yourself, Logan.”

He nodded curtly, pulling his shirt over his head in one fluent motion and walking towards the waves professionally, as if he were walking towards a lecture. Patton cheered from the water.

Janus didn’t concern himself with the time as it passed, instead letting his mind wander while he focused on a line of ants that were crawling up a tree next to him. It wasn’t until a fast approaching form caught his attention did he tear his eyes away, hearing him give a shout of “Be right back!”.

Remus plopped himself onto the towel next to him, still panting from the run, but grinning from ear to ear. As he ripped open a water bottle and drank greedily, Janus couldn’t help but stare. Water glistened on his skin like jewels in the afternoon sun, plastering his hair down over his jaw and eyes. His eyelashes were barely fluttering against his cheekbones as he guzzled nearly half of the bottle, his adam’s apple bobbing with each swallow. The jut of his shoulder, almost touching his throat, taking his weight as he leaned back on his arm… the whole thing was fascinating. People interested Janus as a whole; the way they functioned, how they seamlessly picked up on little cues from others that Janus was still in the process of figuring out, even down to intricate biology of cells was incredibly captivating. But Remus was so much more than that. His voice when he spoke him to sleep, never mentioning it the next day, the way his dark eyes glimmered with hope when Janus agreed to eat with them, the twitch of his moustache as he covered a laugh at Patton’s corny jokes.

He was art, plain and simple.

Janus didn’t know if what he felt was romantic attraction. It sure felt like it, except it had never felt quite like this before. It wasn’t that he was asexual or anything, he was actually decently far from it. It was just how uncomfortable most physical contact made him that gave him the idea he might never have a partner in the way that he wanted. He wanted to hold hands, to cuddle, to kiss… but at the same time, he didn’t. That is, he didn’t know how he’d handle it. Sure, he’d had crushes in the past, cute boys from his classes or celebrities in the shows he hyperfixated on, and still the feeling of uncertainty had stayed. With Remus, something was different though. Never before had a crush ever felt so breath stealing, chest clenching, awe inspiring-

“Like what you see?”

Janus flinched, realizing Remus had finished drinking and was beaming at him with that stupid gorgeous gleam in his eyes. He looked at his lap immediately, feeling his face heat up.

“Sorry.”

“Not a problem,” Remus smirked, having the audacity to wink at him before standing up. “I’m going back in. Coming?” He reached out his hand, hopeful. Janus took a breath, acknowledging that this was his first time initiating contact since he’d arrived, and grabbed Remus’ hand. The surprise on the other’s face was almost enough to make him laugh. He pulled the younger to his feet, keeping a firm hold in Janus’ hand. And… that was okay.

Until it wasn’t.

The second his feet touched the sand, it was like alarm bells exploded behind his eyes. He couldn’t describe it, but it felt wrong. It gave in too much, light sprinkles of sand covered the top of his feet and instantly every nerve was on high alert. He ripped his hand from Remus’, stumbling backwards onto the grass again. The elder spun to him with concern.

“Snakey? What happened?”

“I- hmm, no. I can’t. Nope. No no no. Wrong. It… hmmmm. Can’t.” The last word dragged out as his brain seemed to disconnect from his mouth. His mind didn’t work, so focused on how every blade of grass was swiping along his soles too softly, too gentle, too much. His hands had curled into fists and he was fighting against everything inside him to scream bloody murder, because oh god the wind was brushing the hair onto the back of his neck and it tickled and make it stop make it stop!

Janus could vaguely hear someone shout, and the loudness floored him. Get away, get away, it’s too much it’s too much. The feeling of the grass was gone, and he was sitting on his beach towel, but the wind was still brushing his hair too much, so he grabbed at it uselessly, begging it to stop, stop, stop.

“What’s happening?” Roman.

“Is he okay?” Patton.

“Does he look okay?” Virgil.

“Janus, breathe. You’re safe.” Logan.

Yeah, he knew that. He knew, objectively, that the wind isn’t out to get him and grass doesn’t hurt and sand isn’t supposed to fry your nerves. That didn’t change the fact that it did for him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, it connected that they were seeing him have a meltdown, finally. But he couldn’t focus on that, not when someone was touching his arm why are they touching my arm LET GO!

He screamed now, he couldn’t hold it back anymore. His breaths were ragged and gaspy, hands ripping at his hair to try and stop the fluttering strands. Then there was a new sound, an engine, a boat, and with it came the deep bass of some terrible music and there were people shouting and his head was hurting, why was it hurting so bad?! New hands grabbed his wrists and he writhed, pulling back from the grip that was pulling his fists away from where they’d been hitting his skull, over and over, trying to just get his stupid brain to work. Come back to the present, ground yourself, do SOMETHING!

And then something was in his hands.

His eyes peeled open (when had he shut them?) and he saw the dark blue stress ball, almost crushed between his fingers. The hands were gone from his wrist, and he took a deep breath, relaxing his hand and watching the slime filled toy slowly return to its natural shape. It was just like one from his drawer, the first stim toy he’d ever gotten. Familiarity. He kneaded it under his fingers, enjoying the comforting texture, the color soothing to his sensitive eyes. Bit by bit he felt himself relax, still holding the toy inches from his face between stiff hands, letting his legs unfurl. Without thinking, he raised a shaking hand to his chin and did the sign for ‘water’, and immediately regretted it. It was just such a habit around his parents, the only other people who had seen him break down to this extent, how could he be so-

He flinched as a water bottle was pressed into his raised hand, the lid already taken off. The water was so good, settling his senses and grounding him, like he’d been in hyperfocus before and it was dulled now. He gave the stress ball another squeeze, captivated by the way the slime moved, not even flinching as someone snapped in front of him.

Looking up for the first time, his first instinct was to crawl into a hole and die. Logan was sitting in front of him, slowly putting the cap back on his water bottle before handing it back to Patton, who was standing just behind him. Roman and Virgil had begun packing the chairs and bags agonizingly slowly and quietly. Impressive; they were almost done and he hadn’t noticed until now. He turned to his left and his heart completely shattered. Remus was sitting statue still, a few feet away, with a look of pure fear in his eyes. He sat on the edge of his knees, like he wanted to pounce forward and hug him but was holding himself back. He appreciated that.

Logan snapped again and Janus turned back.

‘Better?’ He signed slowly.

‘You know sign?’ Janus responded weakly, confused.

‘Patton too. I go nonverbal as well. Are you okay?’

The younger nodded, returning his hands to the stim toy on his lap. ‘Yours?’

‘Yes.’

“Is he okay?” Remus whispered suddenly, drawing their attention. He looked so scared, like anything could break Janus and he was scared he would cause it. Oh. Did he think he caused this?

‘Not his fault.’

Logan looked between the two, a look of confusion settling in his face. “What?”

‘Not. His. Fault.’ He signed sharply, a frustrated hum emitting from the back of his throat. ‘Not his fault!’

“Remus, he’s saying it’s not your fault. What does that mean?”

“I- I took his hand, and then this happened…” Remus started, leaning back onto his feet ashamedly, “If that wasn’t the cause, what was?”

‘Sand.’

Logan’s eyes filled with understanding, and he responded, ‘Sand?’ as if to double check that he got the right sign. Janus nodded again, slightly thankful for the mute state he was in. He wouldn’t be able to explain this as well as Logan would.

“If I’m understanding right, then my first assumptions were correct. Janus, did you just experience a sensory overload?”

Janus could only nod, meeting his eyes shakily. This is the moment. Now is his segway. If Logan wasn’t already suspicious, he surely was now. And he’d rather not have to explain, or come up with some half assed excuse if he was confronted later on why sinking his foot into sand had made him break.

‘I’m autistic.’ He fingerspelled it, not knowing what the sign was, or if there even was one. There was a beat of silence, the twins and Virgil exchanging puzzled looks, and Janus couldn’t even bear to look at the two people who would have understood. All his fears came rushing back. Would they think he was lying, or seeking attention, or or or-

“Oh, sweetie,” Patton crooned, sitting cross legged beside Logan, “We thought maybe… well, the possibility came up in conversation before. Lo was the one who brought it up.”

“Yes. Though our experiences differ, you seemed to exhibit symptoms that are common to the ASD spectrum. I thought it feasible, but did not wish to offend or frighten you by mentioning it.”

“We thought that if you were autistic, it would be yours to tell us,” Patton smiled softly.

“Wait,” Remus interrupted, “Janus, you have autism?”

Janus’ nervous glance up must have been enough to clue the rest of the group in, because Roman sighed and ducked his head into Virgil’s shoulder while Logan messily signed something which roughly translated to ‘how dense can someone be’. Jan couldn’t tell if it was a joke or not, but he cracked a smile anyways.

“Shit. Dude, I’m so sorry,” Roman murmured into Virgil’s shirt, “All the times I made fun of you for not joining us or anything, that was way out of line. I truly apologize.”

The youngest gave him the worldwide gesture for ‘it’s okay’; not exactly ASL, but it got his point across. Everything was packed up now, and Janus realized the implications.

‘Home?’ He asked Logan, eyebrows scrunched together.

‘Yes. You need to rest.’ He was right, he was exhausted. Getting to his feet along with Patton and Logan, he reached down to grab his towel, only for it to be promptly swooped up by Roman.

“I… I got it. Don’t worry about it. Okay?”

As soon as Roman turned his back, Janus couldn’t help his heavy sigh. This was another reason he had refrained from telling anyone. He didn’t want to be seen as a burden, or worse, a child. He didn’t need help with menial tasks like grabbing a towel. Virgil and him lifted all the belongings again, with less complaining this time, and began the short trek to the truck.

‘He’s not babying you,’ Logan signed, as if reading his mind, ‘He’s just guilty. If you want my advice, get as much out of it as you can.’

“Logan!” Patton chastised, failing miserably at hiding a smirk.

“Guys?” Remus’ uncharacteristically timid voice prompted them to turn back, “Could I talk to Janus for a sec?”

“You understand he is unable to speak at the moment, correct?” Logan raised an eyebrow, probably coming off more harsh than he meant to.

“I know. Just… please?”

The other two shared a knowing look that Janus didn’t understand, before Logan turned to Janus. “Is that okay?”

The youngest nodded, watching over his shoulder as the lovebirds joined hands, leaving him and Remus alone. When he met his eyes again, he was standing much closer, eyes searching nervously.

“Maybe this will actually be easier since you can’t talk,” he laughed, before his face fell dramatically, “Fuck, that’s not what I meant. I’m such an idiot, I didn’t mean-”

Janus held up a hand quickly, as if to say ‘it’s fine, settle down’, holding back a snicker. He’d understand if someone was upset by the comment, but he’d learn to take Remus’ jokes lightly. He never meant to actually offend, sometimes he just… blurted without intending to. He rolled his finger in a ‘keep going’ motion.

“Shit. Okay,” He’d never seen Remus blush, or stumble over his words before. Not like this, at least, “Now, don’t feel obligated to say you feel the same or anything, okay? This is just, my feelings, and mine alone,” A deep breath, “I like you, Snakey. I like you a lot. More than… more than a friend.”

Oh.

Janus was ninety percent sure he died right then and there. But Remus kept going, tripping over his words in a way that was so unlike him, and yet so perfect.

“I have for a while. I never said anything because I thought, maybe you disliked me? After today though, I think… well, maybe I was misinterpreting those signals. Like I misinterpreted today. That you didn’t want to be around me, no matter how hard I tried.”

Okay, Janus took it back. He wanted to be able to talk now, but his voice came out as another low hum, and he slapped his hand over his mouth, embarrassed. Remus pressed on, unfazed.

“Snakey, I swear to you, that you having autism doesn’t change those feelings at all. It’s not a bad thing, or a flaw, it’s just you. And everything about you is amazing, and perfect, and this is just another thing I get to learn about you. Any fears you had around telling us, telling me, you don’t need to have them.”

He’d never felt this kind of feeling before. In that second, he knew for a fact that this wasn’t a crush that he had on Remus. That wasn’t possible, because a crush had never made him want to break his social barriers like this. A crush had never made him want to make an exception, to stand on his tip toes and kiss him, even if the thought of a new touch usually caused goosebumps to rise on his arms. Because he felt so safe, so blissfully numb, so comfortable with Remus, that he’d be willing to give it a try.

This wasn’t a crush. This was-

“I love you,” Remus whispered, his statement accompanied by a large shaky breath.

He couldn’t say it back, not right now. Later, he would. For sure. Maybe a hundred times. So he did what he’d never thought possible and took that step forward, breaking his bubble that he’d always thought to be unbreakable.

It’s okay. You’re okay. This is okay.

For once, he actually believed it.

Janus reached a hand up, slowly, and rested it on Remus’ face. It wasn’t light, he couldn’t do half touches. It was solid, warm, real. Not a tickling touch that made him twitch, or a brush by that stole the very breath from his lungs. The positive response affirmed his will power, and he leaned up onto his tip toes. Remus looked absolutely stunned, but he didn’t pull away, he couldn’t if he tried. His breath caught in his throat as the elder glanced down, an unmistakable look to his lips.

Had Remus always had those green flecks in his eyes?

And he kissed him. Janus surged forward, pressing their lips together harsher than he’s intended, pulling a small gasp out of Remus. There was a whoop from the vague direction of where they’d parked, followed by a loud smack, and Janus couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips.

Remus’ hands were clasped at his chest, unmoving, probably afraid that if he touched Janus wrong, this would all be over. He’d have to explain half touches later. For now, he took one of his hands in his free one and guided it around, pushing it into the small of his back until Remus got the message to keep that pressure. He let out a small sigh through his nose, an action that sent a new round of butterflies exploding in the younger’s stomach.

This is okay.

This is all going to be okay.

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