#there was going to be a long winded explanation for the title but if I do a second part I guess I could explain it there | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hami-gua · 2 months

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收下的香囊 Shōu Xià de Xiāng Náng

In ancient China, girls would give friends and love interests 香囊（a sachet). If the love interest accepts, then he accepts to be her significant other. Proposal is a different case though, as it’ll be very costly for the man :)

Warning: Chinese is used (translation provided), not proofread, attempt on classification of things (i.e. a tree), a lot of culture drops, a few historical inaccuracies, anxiety (maybe near panic attack)

The story takes place in a Han dynasty-esque period (not really)

Dan Heng x gn! Reader (third pov)

Please read to the end for credits and explanations

A warm glow emitted through the paper window at the dead of night. There a figure sat, weaving a needle between the silk fabric. Silken thread of teal jade** wrap around the woven fabric, drawing out the form of a teal jade dragon flying between mountains and amongst clouds. When the figure was done embroidering the body, they finished off the stitch and swapped the thread out for one of pure gold. This has to be perfect.

The next day, the figure leaves their room, opting to head down to the pavilion overlooking the koi pond. Maids hurriedly followed suit, carrying whatever the figure desired. And when they made it to the pavilion at last, the figure wasted no time and sat down — beginning their work immediately. They pulled out their work, already been strung on the loom and began stitching again. A gentle pink thread weaved this time, shaping out peach blossoms. A soft breeze passes through, swaying the liusu tree** a bit a way. I don’t have much time left. The figure thought, I only have a three days before I depart for the capital. I’m sure he’ll be there.

The figure worked well into the afternoon until their friend had come along bringing snacks to feast upon. She brought something to work on too, as it was customary for the two to do so.

“你今儿怎么这么不安呢？你这个香囊不是做了很久了吗？这已经看的很完美了，为何还要再加呢?” [Why are you so restless today? Isn’t this the sachet you’ve been working on for so long? It already looks perfect, why do you still want to add more?]

“前面是完美的。但后面的必须得要跟前面一样完美。” [The front is perfect. But the back needs to be as perfect as the front.]

“这么拼命啊。是要送给谁啊？等等，让我猜猜！是不是。。。丹王子**？” [You really are giving it your all. Who are you going to gift it to? Wait, let me guess! Is it… Prince Dan (Heng)?]

The figure looked up at their friend in shock, having never told her despite working on the sachet for a while.

“三月。。。你是怎么。。。” [March… how did you…] The figure trailed off, their whole face starting to heat up.

“这不简单嘛。我上次来看你的时候，你绣的那个图案是个青龙。咱俩之间知道的青龙不是丹王子的话，那还会是谁啊？“ [It’s simple. The last time I came to see you, the pattern you embroidered was a teal dragon. If the teal dragon isn’t Prince Dan (Heng) as we know it, then who else could it be?]

The figure looked at the work in their hands and remained silent as March stared at them. A period of silence held between them until the figure spoke, “Do you think he’ll accept it?”

“I don’t see why he’ll reject it.”

The figure sighs, a thumb running over the even stitches softly.

“He’s so aloof. I don’t know if he likes me or tolerates me to not…”

“To not…?”

“To not ruin his image.”

Rustling was all the figure heard before a pair of hands enclosed around theirs. They look up to see March looking at them with a smile.

“It’s okay. You go along with what you planned, and if he breaks your heart, I’ll go beat him up. Princely title or not. No one’s allowed to hurt you.”

Reassurance began to settle in within the figure’s heart and a smile quickly followed.

“Thanks March.”

A day has since passed, the figure having finished their sachet before bed. The brass wind chime sang as they left their room, dressed thicker than usual. They still felt rather cold underneath layers, and the see-through silk did nothing to warm them. The figure tucked their hands in their sleeves while hurrying towards the carriage, the clicks of their muji** echoing through the courtyard. They nearly trip over themselves upon crossing the threshold as a gale races by. It’s times like these where the figure is thankful for choosing to apply beeswax** on their hair. A maid carefully helps the figure into the carriage, getting on after them. Right as they disappear behind the curtains, the carriage takes off for the capital.

Along the way, unease began to fester within the figure’s heart, unsure if Dan Heng will accept their sachet. They tried to calm themselves down, yet to no avail. When one worry is eased, another blooms. What if I’m too late and he’s already taken? The figure sighed.

“What’s wrong my liege?” The maid asked.

The figure shook their head and solemnly replied, “Nothing.”

The longer the ride became, the more nauseous the figure grew. Negative thoughts plagued their mind, many scenarios of them ending up heartbroken. Suddenly, the carriage feels more stuffy than usual. Yet at the same time, a cold feeling rushes down their body. As if reading their mind, the maid drew back the curtain for fresh air and comforted the figure.

“It’s okay my liege. His highness won’t reject you. I know it.”

“How?”

“Well it’s been quite the talk amongst us maids. Especially since your last meeting with him. We all saw how he looks at you.”

“What do you mean look at me? Isn’t he suppose to see?”

The maid giggled, “Not that kind. I mean yes, he is suppose to see. But I’m talking about those kinds. You know, the ones where a person yearns for the other?”

The figure is left confused. Never had they ever seen the look where one yearns for the other. Yet somehow, her words had left the figure feeling better.

The figure’s legs were weak by the time they descended the carriage. Their maid held an arm, helping and guiding them through the street as they sought out a familiar face. And soon enough, they found him standing right in front shop. Upon approaching him, the figure could tell he’s been focused on staring at the neatly shaped rice papers — trying to choose between the different quality of paper. With their right hand on top and left on bottom the figure bowed** — mustered up courage and spoke, “Greetings, Dan Heng.”

His gazed snapped from the paper and onto the figure. A miniscule smile is seen, as he does the same: Left on top, right on bottom.

“Greetings.” he paused, observing the figure. “Are you well?”

Their hand clutched the sachet tightly — trying to remain composed, “Yes,” a deep breath, “I have something to give you.”

Dan Heng’s eyebrows raised at this. Something to give him? Him, of all people? The figure pulls out the sachet from their sleeves and with both hands, hands it to Dan Heng. He looks at it for a brief period and with two hands, accepts the sachet. And upon having it in his possession, he unravels the strings then loops it through his silk belt. The figure watched with wide eyes as the butterflies dissipate, leaving behind only warmth. Dan Heng looks up to see the figure, now his beloved, standing there meekly.

“从认识你的时候，我一直都没见过这样的你。原本活泼的你现在变害羞了。哎呀，你怎么会这么可爱呢？” [Since meeting you, I have never seen you like this before. The lively person you were, have now turned shy. Oh, why are you so cute?] He softly teased.

Upon hearing his comment, his beloved’s face started flaring — resulting them to hide behind their sleeve as they averted their gaze. Dan Heng giggled as his hand rose to lower their arms and cup the side of the face. They looked up at him as he brushed his thumb across their cheek. His hand lowered only to take a hold onto their hand, intertwining it. With a gentled tug, he led her deeper into the market, leading the couple to spend the rest of the day wandering from stand to stand with fleeting affection.

When their gaze met Dan Heng’s, they understood what those around them were saying. Dan Heng isn’t one to display emotions freely, yet his actions speaks louder than words. And his eyes — his eyes will always be the first to say how he’s feeling.

We’ve all heard of method actors, and now get ready for method writers. No seriously though (TMI) I gave myself anxiety all because I was writing about MC getting anxious. What MC goes through is actually how my anxiety goes which is why I bring snacks or sour candy to hold down nausea. So I’m sorry that it sounds rushed. It doesn’t help that I bilingual too hard to the point that when even as I’m typing, my brain is just going “oonga boonga”. Anyways, here’s the cultural explanations and credits.

Teal jade is a literally a combo I made up. I’m under the assumption that Hoyo never truly confirmed if Dan Heng actually is 青龙。I know 青 translates to green, but in actuality, the green that is referred looks a little more blueish. Teal isn’t exactly it, but jade isn’t either. It’s very complicated to explain as it’s a color that isn’t really popular in the west. Think of the color this way, under certain lighting (and sometimes angle) the green will look more teal-ish. almost looking blue. Other times, it’ll have a more light jade color. I can’t remember the very ceramic style that uses this sort of “green”.

Liusu tree [流苏树] scientifically named Chionanthus retusus, is a tree with flowers that makes the tree look like it has lots of snow on it.

王子 means prince. Initially I had wanted to use 公子. But knowing how Xianzhou alliance had only allied with Vidyaharas, it only makes sense (in my brain at least) to have him be a prince. Not a king though, cuz that means they would have to meet and travel under different circumstances.

The use of muji 木屐 (commonly called ‘clogs’) can be dated as far back as pre Qin dynasty (Yellow emperor’s rule). It comes in many styles, very similar to how modern day slides look. Another style is one that is similar to geta. It remained popular until about the end of Song dynasty. Clogs are mostly worn in the south where there’s lots of rain and mud. Xishi is said of have worn clogs due to her insecurity of having big feet — so when she walked the skirt hid the clogs, but the clogs are still able to produce rhythms (think how catchy those rhythms must be).

Beeswax was used in ancient China as a way to hold back hair and to keep away fly-aways. Think of it as mousse or gel for ancient civilization.

Different dynasties had different ways of greeting each other. Though one thing remains roughly the same. Women (in this case feminine leaning) would have right hand on top, and left on bottom. Men are vice versa. The only time when it’s swapped are times like funerals. Although MC is gn, Dan Heng is masculine — thus to balance that out, MC would have to have a more feminine personality.

As for bowing, this depends on class. Kneeling or ketou 磕头 would not be done with (han-majority ethnic group) towards someone that aren’t parents. Of course, these are base rules as circumstances also apply — but it’s a good thing to note.

I wish I can attach links that I got these from, but I had obtained these info from the span of 2-3 years :’(. So if anyone finds these, feel free to link it so others who are interested can take a peak.

Divider Credits

All dividers used came from animatedglittergraphics-n-more

#hsr x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #dan heng x reader #hsr dan heng x reader #honkai star rail dan heng #hsr dan heng #dan heng x y/n #dan heng fluff #dan heng x you

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boxofbonesfic · 7 months

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Title: The Endless

Kinktober Masterlist

Kink: Body Horror

Pairing: Dennis x Reader, Ransom x Reader

Wordcount: 6,011

Summary: The evil at the heart of Drysdale manor defies all explanation—and comprehension.

Warnings: Body Horror, Victorian Era, Eldritch Horror, Lovecraftian Horror, Dubcon, Noncon, Monsterfucking, Manipulation, Graphic descriptions of gore

A/N: here’s my super late second Kinktober entry! i’m sorry procrastination got the better of me this month, but i hope you all still enjoy my work. as always, comments, reblogs and feedback are always welcome. 💖 mind the warnings, and enjoy!

You are awake.

Cool air stirs the moth-eaten drapes hanging over the narrow window, and gooseflesh rises on your clammy, sweat-damp skin. Your hands tremble as you clutch the bedsheets, aching from the tightness of your grip while you stare into the dark.

Why are you awake?

Your bedroom is awash in gray twilight, illuminated only by a stripe of cold, clear moonlight that spills across the floor like water. The shadowy corners of your threadbare room offer no answers either, and you slowly unclench your shaking fists to place a hand over your heaving chest.

A dream? No. A nightmare.

Nothing of it remains now, only dim memories of pulsing warmth, of hungry hands and mouths. You swallow, your tongue sticking to the roof of your dry mouth. You have not slept easily in the manor since your arrival two weeks prior, and tonight is no different.

The wood flooring creaks underneath you as you make your way toward the window, intent on closing it. You pause with your hands on the windowpane, staring up through the glass. It is a cloudless night, the full moon hanging low above the treetops like a fat jewel. The sky around it is dark—there are no stars. No stars at all.

How can there be a moon, but no stars?

You do not remember opening the window before you went to sleep, and as it creaks shut, the servant’s bell rings insistently beside your bed. You turn toward the sound, your lips pressed into a thin line. It doesn’t stop ringing as you gather your robe up from the back of the chair by the desk in the corner, and tie it tightly around your waist. After a few tries, you get the oil lamp on the bedside table lit, and soft orange light blooms on the wick. The still shadows in the corners of the room now breathe and shift as the flame dances behind the glass.

The bell rings again.

The hallway is dark, the cool air still and stale. Your lamp casts long shadows on the walls, dimly illuminating the dusty, ill-kept portraits hanging there. As you pass, the grim faces of Drysdales past glower down at you, the corners of their lips seeming to curve in the firelight.

The light plays tricks sometimes, in the dark.

You can hear the wind outside, branches scratching against the worn, crumbling sides of the manor, like tapping fingers. The manor had been a grand place once, but try as you might, you cannot imagine it so. Few traces of that splendor remain in the empty rooms of decaying furniture and dead leaves. Much like its owner, the house is failing, curling in on itself in its old age, the water-logged walls sagging inward as if the house were holding its breath.

You ascend the stairs, careful not to put too much weight on the railing; the iron is pitted and rusting from the damp, and you are not fool enough to trust it. As you reach the landing, door at the end of the hall opens, spilling light into the gloom. Dennis stands in the doorway, fiddling with his spectacles.

“S-sorry to wake you,” he mumbles. It’s as if he’s trying to look anywhere but your face. When he does, his cheeks go pink, and he looks away again. “H-his chest is hurting again.”

You offer him a tired smile.

“You needn’t apologize to me for doing my job, Mr. Drysdale.” In the short weeks you have been at the manor, you have come to know Dennis Drysdale as a sweet, nervous man, and he has done little to dissuade you of that impression. He steps aside to allow you into the room, still stammering as he trails behind you.

“That may well be, b-but is after midnight. I-I’m perfectly capable of administering the injection myself, but he insisted. Grandfather can be quite…stubborn.” He murmurs the last part as he closes the door with a sharp click. The master suite is bright and warm in comparison to your room, a fire raging in the marble hearth, and the sconces lit.

“I truly am sorry for waking you.” Dennis catches your sleeve with the tips of his fingers. Suddenly, you are not cold at all, your body brimming with heat.

“It’s really no trouble. Consider it repayment—I did so enjoy seeing the grounds yesterday.” You had thanked him then, too; and his cheeks, already bitten red by the crisp autumn chill had gone even redder. You have found little to like about Drysdale manor, but Dennis’ company remains one of few instances of silver lining.

“P-perhaps I-I could show you more. I-inside, I mean.” His expression turns hopeful. “The music room i-is quite lovely.”

“I would quite like that.”

You wash your hands in the darkened washroom before removing the injection kit from the cabinet. The bed at the center of the room is a massive, four postered thing that like the rest of the manor, has seen better days. The intricate carvings on the canopy’s pillars are worn with age now, the gold leaf eroded by time and touch, and the red velvet curtains eaten through by moths.

Ransom Drysdale lies on the bed, his breath a wet rattle in his sluggishly moving chest. The old man smiles at you as you approach, and despite his age, his teeth are remarkably straight and white. Ransom’s thin, drawn skin stretches tightly across his skull, the bone pressing through so sharply you can’t believe the skin doesn’t split from the force. He reminds you of a baby bird, light and fragile. He beckons you with one frail hand.

“Good evening.”

“Mr. Drysdale,” you greet him. “Are you not feeling well?” His smile thins, and he gestures at himself.

“This body is almost ninety-five years old. I never feel well.” He watches you with remarkably sharp blue eyes as you put on gloves and prepare the long silver syringe, poking it through the rubbery covering stretched over the top of the bottle. Ransom offers you his right arm, fist clenched as you tie the rubber tourniquet. He doesn’t move as you slide the needle in.

“Don’t get old,” he advises as you put pressure on the pinprick, staunching the sluggish flow of his blood.

“I don’t think I can stop that,” you reply, wiping at the spot with an alcohol soaked pad before wrapping his thin arm in a bandage. “The Lord gives us each our time.” You clean the syringe off and store it back in the kit. Ransom’s dry laugh becomes a gurgling cough, and when he pulls his hand away from his mouth there is red staining his palm.

“The Lord?” He scoffs. “Come now, I thought you much more intelligent than that.” You cannot help your own lip from curling in disapproval.

“Of course I believe in God.” You snap closed the latch of the kit with more force than necessary. His smile widens at your words, and for a moment all you can see are those too-white, too-perfect teeth. There are so many, it’s like his mouth is wider than it should be.

“Ah, yes. You are a proper lady, after all.” Mockery drips from every syllable, and you cannot stop your own face from wrinkling with distaste. “Please, indulge an old man his eccentricities.” He pats the bedside with a frail hand. “I shall be asleep soon enough.” You glance at Dennis, who stands near the fireplace, doing his level best to not be noticed.

“You are an atheist?” You ask as you sit.

“Not by chance,” Ransom replies. “But by experience.” For a moment, there is no sound other than the crackling whisper of the fire. He stares at it, and the flames dance strangely in his eyes. “All my long life, I have seen little of the doings of God.”

“And what have you seen?” The wind howls outside, and the fire burns low, and the old man’s eyes seem to pierce through the very essence of your being.

“The malevolent dark.” Ransom licks his lips. “Once you have peeled back the veil and looked beneath, my Sweet, there is no way to sew back up the wound.” A chill rolls down your spine as if drawn by an icy finger. You look away. “How can one be God of godless things?” You want nothing more than to leave this room, for the elder Drysdale’s bright blue eyes to look anywhere but at you.

“I am not a theologian, Mr. Drysdale,” you reply, swallowing thickly. “I am a nurse.”

“And is that all you are?” He asks, and you shrink at the hunger in his gaze. “Beneath?” The way he looks at you… Were he a younger man, you suspect he might have reached for your hand—or the hem of your dress. You stand, suddenly, your face uncomfortably warm and your stomach churning.

“I trust the pain has subsided?” The question comes out curtly, and Ransom laughs, his voice like dry reeds.

“Yes thank you.”

Though the hallway is as dark and unwelcoming as it was before, you still prefer the quiet dread over the fevered intensity of the elder Drysdale. Somehow, it takes longer to find your room again, the twisting, labyrinthine corridors more confusing in the dark. You set the lantern on the desk and untie your robe, hanging it neatly on the hook at the back of the door.

Once you have peeled back the veil and looked beneath, there is no way to sew up the wound.

As you turn toward the bed, there is a noise like rustling paper. Your chest seizes, and you feel your body clench as you turn toward the sound. For a moment you do not see it, squinting in the dim light of your little oil lantern. There by the door, the corner of the wallpaper has begun to peel. As you watch, it curls down another inch or two, gummy strands of old glue snapping as it falls. You move to fix it, standing on the tips of your toes to reach. But as you press yourself against the wall, it is not spongy, crumbling plaster you feel but warmth. Like skin.

You recoil, retching.

The faded vines painted on the yellowed wallpaper writhe like snakes as you stare, their leaves trembling. There is a buzzing in your skull, a vibration that makes it impossible to focus on the shifting patterns. You reach up again, and catch the edge of a loose strip under your fingernails. There is a wet, tearing sound as you pull at the wallpaper, your fingers slipping, slick now as you peel the paper back from the wall. Your eyes widen, and you drop the strip in your hand with a muffled shriek as you clap your hand to your mouth to stifle it.

There is no stone or plaster beneath the yellowed wallpaper—but instead there is raw, red flesh. Dark, purple veins ran through it, disappearing beneath the torn edges of the paper. It pulses wetly with the house’s heartbeat, and a lidless, red rimmed eye peers out at you from the gore, rolling as you reel back.

Warmth trickles from your nose, and you wipe at it with the back of your hand, a whimper escaping your lips as it comes away wet and red. The heartbeat grows louder and louder until it is all you can feel, trembling in your bones. It isn’t half as horrible as the voice, though, the voice that whispers into your bleeding ears like grinding glass—

You collapse to the floor, and as your vision narrows, and on your tongue you taste warm copper. Your body trembles violently, your limbs flailing. The full moon shines down on you through the window, the only light in the starless sky.

There is no way to sew up the wound.

—

You wake in near darkness to the sound of a knock. The little window at the foot of your bed reveals a darkening sky, its edges tinged with fast fading pink and orange. I slept all day? You quickly rinse your face in the bowl at your bedside, wincing as you wipe at the crusted blood by your nose. It comes away easily, and you rub it between your fingers until it dissipates in the water.

Another nightmare.

The wallpaper by the door is whole and unmarred, no signs of the horrific thing you’d seen beneath it. Perhaps you’d scratched yourself in your sleep? It is the only remaining possibility. The knock sounds again, and you call out over your shoulder.

“Coming!”

When you open the door, Dennis is on the other side.

“Oh good, you’re awake.” There is genuine relief on his features. “You were quite tired, earlier.” In his hands is a tea tray, and your face warms when you realize he’s brought it for you. You step aside to allow him entry. Dennis sets down the tea on the desk, and stands next to it awkwardly.

“I do not remember your earlier visit,” you say apologetically as shame settles like lead in your belly. “I was remiss in my duties today.”

“You were unwell.” Dennis waves off your concern, smiling gently at you. “The house still stands, and my grandfather remains as ill-tempered as ever. There is little you have missed.” Your laugh is unexpected, escaping your lips before you can stifle it. Dennis’ smile widens.

He is so handsome when he smiles. And he is, truly, without the worry and anxiety lining his face, he seems twenty years younger, standing there in your room.

“You are too kind.”

“Someone should be.” He holds your gaze a fraction of a second too long, and you feel your heart flutter in your chest. “Your, ah, your tea. We shouldn’t let it get cold.”

“Oh, n-no. Of course not.”

There are no chaperones here in the manor to ensure the two of you remain decent, but you leave the door open out of habit anyway, the sunset turning the hallway orange and purple. You drop two sugars into your cup, and then pour in the tea from the little porcelain pot.

“Have you always lived at Drysdale manor?” You ask, and Dennis shakes his head.

“Oh, no.” He looks down at his cup. “When my mother died, Ransom took me in.”

“I’m so sorry.” His smile turns sad. “And your father?”

“Died before I was born. He and Grandfather didn’t really… get along. I’d never met him until the funeral, actually. He raised me. Paid for my schooling…” Dennis pauses, looking wistfully at the bands of fading sunlight. “It is a debt I can never hope to repay.” He turns those soft blue eyes to you. “I know the manor is… less than pleasant.”

You cannot disagree. “You should not have to stay.”

“Grandfather will let me go, soon.” He says, though neither of you truly believe it. “He says the time is coming when this house will be mine to do with as I wish.”

“And what do you wish to do with it?” You ask, draining the last of your tea from your cup.

“Let it crumble into the sea.” Dennis finishes his cup, and places it back on the tray. “I am truly happy to see you better. You did not seem…yourself.”

You grimace. “My nights have not been particularly restful, Mr. Drysdale.” Reluctantly, you meet his gaze. “And the nights here are long.” Dennis looks at you with a grim smile.

“They are indeed.” He casts a pensive look at his teacup. “I should like to visit somewhere with long days.”

“Somewhere warm. Somewhere the sea isn’t quite so gray, and cold.” Dennis’ expression lightens as you sigh. “I do miss the sea.”

“I should like to see it. Your sea, I mean.” Dennis has seen even less of the world than you have, the majority of his experience limited to the manor and the sleepy township on the other side of the overgrown wood. To one side of the crumbling manor is the wood, and the other the sea. Here, it is as dark and cold as the manor that looms over it, angry waves crashing endlessly against the rocky bluffs.

“You are a young man, yet. There is plenty of time, if you do not mind me saying so, Mr—”

“Dennis. Please.” His fingers twitch on the desk, like he wants to touch you. “I should like to hear you call me by my name.” You hesitate, almost afraid of the familiarity.

“Dennis.” His smile is brighter than the setting sun.

“Thank you.”

—

The house is a cruel maze. Every turn you take brings you back the the master bedroom, the doors appearing insistently around every corner. You do not want to open them. You want anything but to open them. The doors glow with a sickly pale purple light, vibrating and pulsing excitedly like a beating heart. Around you, the hallway is brightly lit, the chandeliers above you sparkling as if they’d only just been dusted, the wood paneling polished to gleaming. You turn away, and the house creaks around you like it’s heaving a sigh.

You do not want to open the door, but the dream does, presenting it to you as you try to flee from it, the hallway stretching out in front of you with the doors at the end.

The handles are cold under your fingers, and you press down on the latch, throwing them open. Ransom waits for you on the other side. With every step you take toward him, he looks younger. He is handsome when you reach him, and though his eyes sweep down over your naked body, you feel no shame.

“Nothing great can be had without sacrifice.” The knife he presses into your hands is of the clearest, blackest glass. The symbols carved on the hilt vibrate in your skull painfully. Your body moves without your direction, turning towards the fireplace. Dennis stands in front of it—naked too.

“Cut.”

You do.

You have to put the symbols somewhere—they can’t stay in your head, they’re too big. It hurts to have them there, and you need to put them somewhere, anywhere. So you put them on Dennis’ skin, carving them lovingly into his chest. He doesn’t scream.

“Cut.”

You do.

The knife slides in like butter, and Dennis’ skin parts as easily as the wallpaper. What pours out of him isn’t blood, thick like tar, like pulled taffy, pooling at your feet.

You sit up, a scream threatening to burst from your throat. Like last night, the only light is that of the moon, painting shapes on your wall through the window. Shaking, you reach for the matches, lighting the wick of your oil lantern with clumsy fingers.

The dream has done more than unnerve you. Warning t you bells ring in your mind’s ear, calling for you to run, run—and you want to. You look down at your hands—there is blood under your fingernails.

I have to find Dennis.

The thought consumes you, driving you as you tie your robe around your nightgown with shaking hands and sweaty palms. The darkness in the hallway is oppressive, bearing down on your little lantern with weight that leaves you staggering. On the wall, the portraits whisper to one another, just out of reach of the dim firelight. You wipe at the blood beginning to leak from your right nostril, and the droplets that have already dried there flake off onto the back of your hand.

“Dennis!” Your voice is muffled by the dark, swallowed by it—not even the echo returns to your ears.

Slowly, you ascend the stairs.

With each step, the discomfort weighing in your stomach like lead grows heavier and heavier. Something terrible awaits you upstairs, you just know it—and yet you cannot stop.

The air at the landing is thick and warm, and you gag as you breathe it in. You hold your lamp aloft, praying that it will illuminate the bespectacled face of your host—it does not. There is a gurgling moan, muffled by the closed door, and you shiver when you hear it.

“D-Dennis?”

Pale light leaks out from underneath the door of the master bedroom, and terrified tears gather in your eyes as you approach it. There’s a dull thud, and a wet crunch, and the light pulses like a heartbeat. With a shaking hand, you push against the door.

A scream rips itself from your throat.

The putrid mass of flesh almost hurts to look at, looming in the dimly lit chamber. It is as though Ransom has been unmade, reduced to a trembling puddle of skin and hands and teeth that cling to Dennis’ writhing body like a leech. Its form is a grotesque patchwork of twisted flesh and horror, malformed limbs, distorted faces that writhed and contorted with sickening fluidity. Its skin—if it could even be called that—was a pulsating, mottled mess of sickly colors; patches of ashen gray and bruised purples that oozed dark, foul blood.

Everywhere it touches, it sticks fast like glue, the flesh flowing together seamlessly, like they’re one single being.

Blood trickles from both your nostrils, flowing down over your lips as your brain rattles uncomfortably in your skull. Something like a mouth opens wide, revealing rows and rows of teeth while bulbous unblinking eyes stare at you from his misshapen form. It speaks, and warm blood leaks from your ears at the sound of its voice.

“Godless-ess-ess things-ngs-gs.” The mouths do not speak in unison, each stepping on the tail of the other as they rush to get the words out. The Ransom-thing pulls Dennis’ mouth open, and his gurgled moan of pain is cut short as it reaches inside. His throat bulges obscenely as the fist travels down it, and the wet choking noises are all you can hear as Dennis turns tearful, bloodshot eyes to you. That horrible light grows warm enough to burn, the skin of your cheeks blistering and splitting open in the wake of its brilliance.

How can it shine so bright and be so dark?

The world bends, ripping open like paper as the room runs like watercolor paint, with only darkness behind. It’s like he said. You cannot make the words come out of your mouth as your eyes begin to roll, your jaw locking. You taste fresh blood as your teeth sink into your lip, your whine of strangled in your tight throat. Malevolent dark. Blood is dripping from both of your nostrils, leaking warm copper all over your lips and chin. Your head feels full to bursting, like everything inside is going to leak out of your ears, and you are falling—

And you go willingly into nothing.

—

The sunlight streaming through your window is the brightest its been since you arrived. It is the warmth on your face that wakes you first, and then the terror lances through you, fresh as ever. The same four walls greet your wide eyes as you stare disbelievingly around the room. Your mouth tastes like stale blood, and you find the source as your tongue touches the sore patch on your lip where your teeth had broken through the skin.

You wash yourself as quickly as you are able before venturing out into the uncharacteristically bright hallway. Perhaps it is the angle of the sun through the window on this particular morning, but the worn carpet seems brighter, its pale red restored to bright crimson. The portraits on the wall have lost their gaunt, fragile quality. Indeed, you can see their rosy cheeks, as if their sallow complexion was shed with the heavy dark.

As you arrive at the second floor landing, you spy Dennis in the doorway of the master suite.

“Dennis!” You rush toward him, your heart in your throat as you recall your blood-soaked nightmares. For what else could they be? He looks surprised to see you, pausing with his hand on the door handle.

“Good morning,” He replies, his expression grim “I was—I was just going to call for you.” You pause in your preliminary inspection of his features,

He looks at the ground. “He died last night.”

“What? He—he died?” Your shock makes you take a step back, searching Dennis’ features for the lie. There is none.

You look past him into the bedroom. Ransom’s frail body is indeed there on the bed, his skeletal chest still. You wait for a moment, to see if those mad blue eyes will open again, but the do not. Dizzily, you lean against the doorframe, one hand on your thundering heart. The memory is there, as sharp and clear as crystal. Tearing flesh and sinew, the thick taste of blood in the air—

“I-I should check his pulse.” You grimace at the thought of approaching the bed, but you do not know what else to do. “To be sure.” Dennis shakes his head.

“You-you don’t understand,” he says sadly. “I-I was here when grandfather took his last breath.” Dennis’ blue eyes shine with unshed tears, and you suspect he might have cried before you’d gotten there. “I have already sent for the vicar—h-he should be here tomorrow.” You have no desire to approach the bed, nor Ransom’s body. He moves forward to close the door, forcing you back out into the hall. “You… you need not stay longer than necessary. I—I shall of course ensure you are fully compensated for your time.”

“My time?” You pause, shaking your head. “I—are you alright?” He seems fine, his skin pale but unblemished. There are no teethmarks, no missing fingers, no melting, gelatinous flesh. Instead, he smiles at you, that soft, gentle smile.

“I was sure you would be packing your bags already. Not… asking how I am.” He reaches for your hand, passing his thumb softy over your knuckles as your cheeks prick with heat as he shakes his head. Your stomach flutters at his words. With a sharp intake of breath, you sink your teeth into your lip, tasting warm copper as it aligns with the delicate bite mark you’d left behind just last night. Dennis drops your hand, as if suddenly aware of the impropriety of having held it in the first place.

“I—I’ve no right to ask, but… Will you stay? Until the vicar arrives?”

“Of course!” You exclaim. In truth, you do desire to leave the manor—more than almost anything—but you’ve little desire to leave Dennis alone in this dismal, terrible place. He clasps his hands behind his back, like he’s trying to keep from touching you.

“Thank you. For all you’ve done for my family.” His reluctant to say it leaves him floundering for, a moment, his mouth working silently. “And for me.” Your throat tightens, your tongue floundering uselessly in your mouth.

“Y-you’re welcome.”

—

It feels as if you’ve wandered into a dream as you pack up your things, emptying the dark wardrobe in the corner of all your personal effects. Your face heats as you recall the warmth of his hand, the softness of his smile. Were you back in the city, were you both unfettered by duty and class—perhaps Dennis might have courted you. And if you had parents to approve of the match, certainly they would.

Another life, perhaps.

As you finish tucking the last of your belongings into your bags, a light knock comes at the door.

“May I come in?”

You look down at yourself hurriedly, smoothing nervous hands over your dress.

“Yes.” The door opens slowly, and Dennis smiles bashfully on the other side.

“I thought perhaps we, er, we might have dinner. Together.” He looks down. “T-the cook always goes home just before dusk, and I, well…” Dennis doesn’t have to say it. He doesn’t want to be alone. You don’t either.

“I would like that.”

You’ve not eaten in the dining room before—indeed you’d never been in it at all except in passing when you had very first arrived. Now, however, it seems almost warm, the sconces lit, a fire raging in the massive hearth as the dying sunlight fades from the wide, tall windows. He greets you with a nervous smile.

“Please—sit.” He pulls out your chair for you, and then takes the seat to your left. The dining room is well lit, the cobwebs cleaned from the rafters. The low chandelier is polished to gleaming, and you wonder at the state of the manor. Dennis uncovers the plates, setting aside the dish covers. There is rabbit on your plate, with fresh asparagus in cream—by far the most appetizing meal you have had since coming to Drysdale manor.

“Oh, Dennis…” It feels like he’s done this for you. “This is lovely.”

Dennis’ rings tap softly against your wine glass as he fills it. Funny. You hadn’t noticed him wearing them before, though you cannot be sure. You pluck the proffered glass from his fingers, and take a sip. It’s light, fruity.

His expression fills with warmth as he looks at you.

“I-I admit, I h-have come to quite enjoy your company.” He says softly. “Would it be bold to assume y-you feel the same?” Your throat tightens, and you look down at your plate, your face warming.

“Bold, yes. Quite bold.” You clench your hands together under the table where he cannot see. “But not untrue.” You smile at him. Dennis is as easy to talk to as ever—perhaps even moreso, now, without the specter of his grandfather’s disapproval hanging over him. The food is delicious, and you find yourself ravenous for it, eating with gusto.

“If it is not too grim to ask, what will you do now?”

“What do you mean?” Dennis cocks his head at you.

“Well, I—you said your grandfather would be letting you go, soon,” you reply, dabbing at the corners of your mouth with a napkin. “I thought you might travel.”

Dennis chuckles. “Why would I do that? I’ve everything I need right here.” I would let it crumble into the sea. He reaches for your hand, and you let him hold it. “In fact, I… I thought I might ask you to stay with me. Here, at the manor.” You cannot help the look of distaste that flickers across your face, and Dennis laughs. “I know, I know. But it’s mine, now, you see? We can do whatever we like within these walls.”

“Firstly, we shall take down those horrid portraits,” you reply, and he laughs.

“See? You’ll make an excellent lady of the house yet.”

There is a weight to his words that brings prickling heat to your cheeks.

He sweeps away the plates, uncaring when one of them tips onto the floor, spilling half eaten food onto the rug. Dennis pulls you close and you gasp, your palms flat against his chest. You don’t push him away, though, no, your fingers tangle in his lapels, clinging to him desperately as he stares longingly down into your eyes.

Dennis kisses you then, softly brushing his lips against your own. You can taste the hunger on his skin.

“You care for me,” the words are hushed. “And I you.” You grip the edge of the table behind you so hard you feel the blood drain from your knuckles. His mouth is fierce against yours, his teeth tugging at your bottom lip until you gasp. The swift pecks you have been given pale in comparison to the way Dennis seems to want to consume you, the hungry way he drinks down each weak little mewl you make.

When you imagined Dennis’ hands on your body, you had thought perhaps that his fingers would tremble as they undid the buttons of your dress—but instead they are sure, steady. He parts the layers of fabric until your cheeks burn with the indecency of it all, but you cannot bring yourself to ask him to stop. Instead, it is your voice that trembles as you mumble against his mouth.

“T-the servants, someone will see—”

“They don’t stay after dark,” Dennis pushes the two halves of your dress from your shoulders and it pools at your hips as he scoots your hips backward until you are seated firmly on the table. “You know that.” His soft blue eyes are hard and ravenous, now as he looks at you. Your cotton under-dress offers little decency, the dark circles of your nipples poking up through the fabric. Dennis drags his thumb across one of them, glorying in your muted whine.

Your head spins, buoyed by the sweet wine still on your tongue. God in heaven, you want—you want to touch him too, and you do, cupping his face as he devours you. That is what he’s doing, you realize as Dennis’ teeth tug hard at your lower lip. He drinks down each breathy cry as if he has been desperate for them all this time, and you gasp as he drags his mouth down your jaw, nipping at your throat before pulling away to admire the indecent bruise you know is forming at your throat.

“D-Dennis—!” His gaze does not waver, as if you had not called his name. He fills every moment, so that no space remains for your uncertainties. “W-wait, we should—”

“We should have each other as we desire.” Eagerly, Dennis drinks in every inch of exposed skin as he pulls aside your collar, licking his lips. He takes his time to with each button, undoing them one by one until he reaches bare skin. “Don’t you think, my Sweet?” He looses the tie at his throat, dragging a thumb across your parted lips as he works loose the buttons on his own shirt. You falter as you reach for him, your brows drawing together in confusion.

You aren’t sure why his words have given you pause, why they set warning bells ringing in the recesses of your mind. You think of your dream again, that horrible, hungry flesh, and for an instant, Dennis’ lips taste of copper. He gropes at your bare breasts, breathing heavily against your mouth as he moans. You push at his chest, suddenly finding him heavier than you’d thought he’d be, and so much more solid.

“Dennis, Dennis wait—” There is annoyance on his face when he pulls away, an emotion you’ve not yet seen him express, not with you.

“For what?” He snaps, his eyes hard. “The vicar, so that I may place a useless trinket on your finger?” He holds your hand up, dragging his lips along the back of it. “Oh, but you’re a proper lady, aren’t you, Sweet?”A proper lady. Dennis nips at your fingers with sharp teeth. “I promise I’ll keep you,” he says, grinning darkly as you stare at him. “Forever.”

Dennis peels away the last vestiges of your clothing, leaving you bare before him.

“Beautiful.” You’ve had no touch other than your own, and your eyes go wide as Dennis’ cups your warm center with a groan. He slides his fingers along the seam of your lips, parting them to reveal your slick folds. He smiles. “Not such a proper lady, then.”

Perhaps it is the way he says it, the way he turns his head just so, the smile on his lips turning just a tiny bit cruel. The knowledge passes from your mind and leaves your lips in an instant, his true name falling from your tongue in shock and horror.

“Ransom?”

The smile widens, curling at the edges of his lips and spreading until it is so wide it threatens to split his skull in two—

“Dennis!”

“He’s not here, Love,” Ransom’s mouth has too many teeth in it. “I ate him all to pieces.” His eyes are empty black holes when he looks at you, that horrible purple light leaking from his mouth. Warmth leaks from your nose as you push fruitlessly at his chest. “They always did say the resemblance was uncanny,” he says, clucking his tongue at you. “Don’t you think so, Sweet?”

You scream.

#cevans fanfiction #cevans fandom #chris evans fic #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom x reader #ransom x you #horror #darkfic #dubcon #ransom drysdale x OFC #monsterfucking #dark!fic #dark mc #eldritch horror #boxofbonesfic #kinktober 2023 #kinktober

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finleyforevermore · 2 months

Text

I actually don't know what you'd title this but this post probably would serve as an explanation! Uhhh, enjoy!

First off, we've got quite a few names here, so let's go through name key!:

Endermes (@ender-outlaw as Hermes)

Silmes (@soursileu as Hermes)

Vellmes (@allergic-to-four-leaf-clovers as Hermes)

Amores (@amorvincitomnia-14 as Hermes) (hey knock knock guess what you're Hermes now :D)

Atpheus (@literatureisdying as Orpheus)

Finchpheus (@flowers-floating-in-space as Orpheus)

Euryauden (@tellme-o-muse as Eurydice)

Eurysyd (@sydneyofalltrades as Eurydice)

Perzeephone (@ziipzeepzop-eez as Persephone)

Finades (me as Hades!)

Ok, it's "The Actual Point Of The Post" time!:

Endermes is having a BALL during Road to Hell.

Vellmes' RTH in one word: Spins. So many spins.

Segue brought to you by Daisy's (@meowydoe) Fate being The Fate That Waves At Eurydice During Any Way The Wind Blows & Hey, Little Songbird™

Amores, during the section about Orpheus in Any Way The Wind Blows: "I love this child so fucking much you don't understand-"

During Come Home With Me: Hermes: "You wanna talk to her-" Atpheus, no hesitation: "YES."

Eurysyd is fucking FLABBERGASTED during Come Home With Me.

Sequoia, I wholeheartedly believe that you would straight up start glowing at some points. The "The Song™" section of Wedding Song is one of those times. /pos

Endermes draws out the "old song" in Epic I. ("It's an ooooooold song")

Perzeephone is booping ALL THE NOSES in Living It Up On Top.

Silmes loudly exclaims "Oh SHIT-" after tasting the wine after Orpheus' toast in Living It Up.

Euryauden + Atpheus: Gayest All I've Ever Known Of All Time

Comedically grumpy all throughout Way Down Hadestown.

Atpheus fucking LEAPS in front of Euryauden when Finades notices Euryauden in WDH.

Segue brought to you by The Fates (Josie (@/meowydoe), Satanic (@satanic-witchcraft), and Annabeth (@two-minute-notice)) having a great time during When the Chips Are Down.

Eurysyd has the saddest "Gone, I'm Gone" ever /pos

Silmes is PISSED at Orpheus during Wait For Me Intro.

Atpheus does the vibrato on "WAAAIT" that Reeve Carney did on his last performance in Wait For Me. I just get that feeling. /pos

Wait For Me, aka Finch Starts Fucking Glowing Moment #2. /pos

Slooowwly turns head to look at Finades when she sees Eurydice in Hadestown during Why We Build The Wall, like, "oh no you did NOT"

"....anybodywantadrink?"

During "Our Lady of the Underground": *Lowest, most gravelly voice imaginable* I don't know about you, BOOOYSSS!

Lots and lots and LOTS of twirls during OLOTU.

During Way Down Hadestown (Reprise): "I did what I had to do." "Yeah sure whatever."

Vellmes, with a "it's not all bad"-like voice: "What she was instead was dead....dead to the world anyway!" You're only dead to the world, it's not alllll bad!

Yet another segue to appreciate how fucking amazing Eurysyd's "Flowers" cover is. Please give it a listen.

During Come Home With Me Reprise: Euryauden: "I called your name before-" Atpheus: "I know!" "You heard-" "NO-"

During Papers: Orpheus: "I'm not going back alone. I came to take her home-" Finades: W H E E Z E

Segue brought to you by the most melancholic "Nothing Changes" ever. /pos

During If It's True, Atpheus is fucking PISSED. Screams out "is this how the world is??" like Dónal Finn (west end Orpheus actor)

Finchpheus is less pissed and more heartbroken. We can throw in a voice crack on "is this how the world is?" for good measure.

Scream out "I believe that THEY ARE FEW!" during If It's True like all the tour Orpheus actors.

During How Long: Perzeephone: "What are you afraid of?" Finades, genuinely confused: "...what?"

Perzeephone: "He loves that girl, Hades!" Finades, who genuinely couldn't care less: ..well that's too bad!

"What's that noise...?" during Chant Reprise is played for laughs like in the Broadway previews boot.

We can reinsert Persephone's verse in Chant Reprise. You know, for funsies!

We're doing NYTW Epic III too. Screw the Broadway version.

Epic III, aka Finch Starts Fucking Glowing Moment #3. /pos

Finades + Perzeephone: Dorkiest Lovers Desire/They Danced Of All Time.

Amores keeps giving Finades the "don't you fucking do it" glare during His Kiss, The Riot.

Silmes, during Wait For Me Reprise: "Don't you dare fuck this up, Orpheus--"

Everyone is crying when The Thing™ happens and after The Thing™ happens. Iykyk.

Vellmes knew it was coming but is still in disbelief.

Endermes is more confused than anything, even if she knew it was coming.

Silmes is trying not to appear effected, but still definitely cares and is effected, even if it knew it was coming.

Amormes is going THROUGH IT. Like, "visibly close to tears" going through it.

Perzeephone has the most poignant "We Raise Our Cups" because ofc she does. /pos

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lorre-verie · 1 year

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₊˚ʚ ᗢ. ᴛʀᴜᴛʜ ᴏʀ ᴅᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴛ. ꜰᴏᴜʀ ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

aka, the chapter where the title of the series really comes into play.

the unfortunate pair: ao’nung x fem! sully! reader

chapter summary: crossing off stuff from your bucket list is fun, but in your opinion it was just going too slowly. so what if you sped things up a little? your decisions garner unexpected results, but i suppose in the end, you’re satisfied with the way they turned out.

warnings: cussing, kissing (just a light lil peck yk) reader being an absolute tease, ohmygawd the TENSION IM SCREAMINGGG, sully family shenanigans

word count: 4.7k

“I keep thinkin’, bout his angel eyes!” you belted out, eyes on the screen in front of you.

“I keep thinking, AAHHH!” Kiri followed, putting all her soul into the song.

Bucket List!

Dance with a partner to my favourite song.

Drink alcohol

Go on your first date

Have a sleepover with my friends and siblings

Karaoke night

Have my first kiss

Receive an oshalia flower

Per your wishes, your family had graciously agreed to having a karaoke night in your marui. It was really a good thing that your tent was isolated from the rest of the metkayina’s, lest your neighbours would have to try and sleep through incessant screaming all night long.

Your mother didn’t really want to participate though, understandably. And of course, your father followed her. Even though he really, really did want to join in on the fun, he loved your mother more than he loved Taylor Swift.

It had been a week since your official diagnosis, Norm and Max confirming your illness from all the way in the lab in the forest. But there was still hope for you. And they were doing everything in their power to find a cure.

While they were probably pulling their hairs out, you and Kiri were singing your souls out, so passionately that even Eywa would stop the wind to listen to how unbelievably horrid hypnotising your voices were.

“LAST NIGHT, I WAS TAKING A WALK ALONG THE RIVER!” you half shouted, taking bold steps across the floor, your brothers laughing at your strutting.

“WHEN I SAW HIM TOGETHER WITH A YOUNG GIRL,” Kiri followed behind you, before pointing at Tuk’s rubber duck with a tophat (whom she dubbed Paul).

“AND THE LOOK THAT HE GAVE HER MADE ME SHIVER-” you scooped Paul up, ignoring Tuk’s whining. “Give him back!”

“CAUSE HE ALWAYS USED TO LOOK AT ME THAT WAYYYY!” Kiri and you sang in unison, back against each other, and you held Paul up to the light that seeped in through the night, glaring at him accusingly.

Kiri yanked Paul from your hands and threw him down to the floor, much to your littlest sister’s distress.

“HEY!” Tuk screamed, crawling to save her poor Paul.

Just then, 3- no 4- metkayinan teenagers stepped through the flap of the marui, wondering what the hell the noises coming from your marui were.

Veyä went through first, followed by Tsireya, Rotxo, then Ao’nung. You continued singing with Kiri, unbothered by their sudden presence. “What is going on here???” Rotxo practically screeched, trying to make his voice heard.

The four looked horrified at the alien technology in front of them, the giant projector showing the lyrics in english, and the mics in your and Kiri’s hands.

Combined with the background music playing out of seemingly nowhere, it looked like you and your siblings were performing some sort of ritual.

“LOOK INTO HIS ANGEL EYES, ONE LOOK AND YOU’RE HYPNOTISED!”

Eventually, with some explanation that this was not a demonic ritual from Neteyam, the metkayinans settled down to enjoy the show, you and Kiri breathless after finishing the song. You stumbled down to the floor, acting as if you were passing out.

Lo’ak grabbed your mic and switched to a different song (a rap song 💀) and you crouched along the floor to talk to your friends and the frog.

Veyä tilted her head, smiling welcomingly as you sat in front of her. Tsireya and Rotxo waved, and Ao’nung just..looked at you.

“You’re all invited to a sleepover tomorrow night,” you smiled.

Tsireya’s ears perked up. “A slumber party? Here?” she sat up straight.

“Yep, it’s going to be super fun. There’s gonna be a movie- I’ll explain what that is later-” you added, internally groaning at their confused faces, “and we can play some games! And after, you can sleep here. We have a few extra sleeping bags.”

“We’ll be there!” Tsireya almost shouted, she was clearly excited about spending some time with a certain someone who was stumbling over his words at the moment. “Won’t we, dear brother?” she turned to Ao’nung, a hopeful look on her face.

He frowned, eyes flickering from Rotxo to Tsireya, who were both looking up at him with stars in their eyes.

“Well I, for one, am definitely going to be there,” Veyä shrugged, angling her chin upwards.

“We can go.” Ao’nung turned his head to you, the corner of his lip twitching upwards once he saw the bright smile etched on your face.

What he didn’t know was that beneath your “genuine” smile, your brain was meticulously planning all the ways you could trick him into doing whatever you wanted.

“Just wear whatever you sleep in,” you put your hands on the floor to push yourself back up. Eywa forbid Neteyam got to the tablet before you, he’d show off his singing skills like he was Ninat’s son and not your mother’s.

Soon you all were divided into 2 groups; the girls and the boys sat in separate circles, each one hyping their sully member up as they came up to sing.

“It’s kinda like..a moving picture? A picture is like a memory captured in time, like you can see the videos- moving pictures- being displayed on the screen there” Kiri painstakingly explained to Veyä, who seemed to catch on rather quickly.

“Where is Tuk?” Tsireya whispered to you with her signature sweetener smile. “I miss her presence.”

You looked back at her, about to respond, but you closed your mouth back up again once you saw that she wasn’t looking at you, but rather behind you.

Lo’ak, you rolled your eyes, turning to confirm your suspicions.

Lo and behold; they were making sickening lovey dovey puppy dog eyes at each other, completely oblivious to you and your twin brother who were about to projectile vomit onto the floor right next to them.

Rotxo was trying his best to pronounce the english words on the screen, but his singing was rather alright. Nothing compared to Neteyam, of course, but pretty good.

You shared mirrored frowns with your older brother, shaking your head at the exact same time. You mouthed, “How’d he get a girl that quickly?”

Neteyam shrugged, “It’s the good girl and bad boy trope.”

You winced, remembering all the books you read about the relationship dynamic as a child. It was okay, but you loved the enemies to lovers and sad stories much more. *wink wink*

The best idea you’d ever conjured up in your life tugged at your lower lips, that devilish smile appearing on your face as it’s done every time you were about to dare someone to do something stupid. Neteyam picked up on this immediately, his eyes widening and immediately mouthing ‘NO’.

As you shook your head up and down, you both were unaware of Ao’nung confusedly looking back and forth at your wordless conversation, his fingers intertwined. He was an excellent lip reader, but you guys weren’t speaking na’vi, so he wondered if you guys just made up your own language.

‘I dare you to pretend you like her.’ you mouthed back, but by this time, Lo’ak had seen the words come out of your mouth.

Alas, your beautiful plan was fooled. (but wouldn’t that be funny as hell)

You let out a laugh, covering your mouth as you did so. His eyes fell on you, gazing at the way your body buckled forwards, at the way your yellow eyes were fixed on the floor as you tried to stop the giggles spilling out of your mouth, at your w-

“Hello??? Are you okay?” Tsireya waved her hand in front of his face, to which immediately jolted backwards like she was threatening to cut all of his beautiful hair off.

“Brother, are you sick? You seem very out of it today.” she crouched down in front of him concerned, for his eyes seemed like they were popping out of their sockets.

Today had been an incredibly stressful day for Ao’nung. He’d been unable to focus on any of his duties today, because of well, you.

You showed him a different side of yourself, above the petty insults and the snarky exchanges you two would have everyday.

That night he didn’t see you as the nasty forest imp.

He saw you, for you.

And he was unable to get you out of his mind for the whole day.

“Ao’nung, the fish have all already gone at this point,” Tonowari signed. It was the next day; the day of the slumber party.

The afternoon light seeped into the water, illuminating beautifully the hunting grounds that Ao’nung and his father would often traverse to together, and the Olo’eyktan quickly noticed his son’s strange behaviour.

Ao’nung gripped his crossbow with such intensity that if he squeezed it just a little bit tighter, he’d be able to break it into two. Besides that, he was aiming at an empty spot in the sand, the rest of his body hidden from nothing by a rock structure.

As he stared at nothing, his father grew increasingly concerned. Tonowari tucked his knife into a strap wrapped diagonally across his chest, placing a hand on his son’s shoulder to get his attention.

Ao’nung whipped around to face him, releasing the trigger on the crossbow as he did so. The arrow flew into sand, scattering tiny bits of it everywhere, floating aimlessly in the water.

Tonowari simply shook his head with a slight frown, signing ‘Up.’

Even as they rose to the surface, Ao’nung’s heart felt like it was dropping lower and lower as he pushed his arms back. What if his father was angry that he was slacking off and getting lost in his thoughts? He should’ve been more focused- he should’ve been more aware-

“So, who’s the girl?” Tonowari half smirked, placing his hand on Ao’nung’s head.

“What?” Ao’nung looked at his father, his eyes as wide as a tulkun’s.

“Don’t try to lie to me, son. I had that exact same look on my face when I was in love with your ma,” he chuckled, resisting the urge to ruffle Ao’nung’s hair– if that even was possible, being tied up into a bun.

The frog said nothing, only parting his lips in surprise.

First of all, why would his father assume he’d been thinking about a girl? He wasn’t. He was thinking of someone completely opposite a “girl.” No, no, no, absolutely NOT. You had attacked him, beat him up, left him with bruises on his beautiful face- Why would he like you??? (what he’s been repeating to himself for the past 24 hours)

Second of all, his father’s huge hand was threatening to ruin his beautiful hair.

Third of all, ew, he didn’t need to hear another story of how his dad pined over his mother like his life depended on it.

“Is it Veyä? I heard she’s been a hot topic with the teenagers these days,” his dad pondered, and he gagged in response. “Ugh, no way.” Ao’nung snorted, wanting to punch himself in his own face for not even trying to deny he was thinking about a girl in the first place.

“Hm. I can see that.” Tonowari pursed his lips. “It doesn’t seem like you’d be her type either. From what I’ve heard, she’s much more popular with the girls.”

“Ew.” Ao’nung cringed, a shiver running down his spine at the thought of his childhood friend being subjected to such….affectionate thoughts? gossip? He didn’t know the word for it, he just knew it wasn’t something he wanted to hear.

“On that subject, is it a boy? Perhaps I’ve been getting all of this wrong.” Tonowari looked at his son, seemingly assessing who he thought he liked.

“Dad, please no. I am not thinking of anyone,” he groaned, a pained expression on his face.

“Bah! Nonsense! I know that look when I see it. I am wise beyond my years my son, you cannot fool me that easily.” Tonowari dismissed him, Ao’nung’s shoulders slumping down.

“It must be someone you’d be embarrassed about if you’re this desperate to get me off your back,” he jutted his lips out as he thought.

Ao’nung slapped a hand to his face, groaning even harder. He wasn’t even desperate. Was he?

His father let out a sharp gasp, looking at his son panickingly, seemingly choking on his words.

“What? What? Father, what is it?” Ao’nung swam closer to his father, brows knitted together in concern. He placed a hand on his dad’s chest, checking his heartbeat and breaths like his mother taught him.

“Great mother-” Tonowari spurted out, causing Ao’nung a greater deal of worry. But upon examining his heart and the timing of his breathing, he seemed perfectly fine.

“It’s that girl from the Sully’s, isn’t it?? What was her name- Y/N?” Tonowari stumbled over his words.

“Great mother, father you had me thinking you were having a heart attack-” Ao’nung sighed in relief, backing away from his father who was in fact, not dying in front of him. But then his eyes widened. He had said your name.

The look on Ao’nung’s face when they locked eyes said it all.

“Dad NO-”

“MY SON IS COURTING THE DAUGHTER OF TORUK MAKTO????”

“And remember, do NOT let any of the boys touch you,” Jake pointed his finger directly into your face.

“Yes, dad, I get it.” you rolled your eyes, shoulders slouched and a pout on your face.

Eclipse had fallen, and your dad for the past 5 minutes had been laying down all the ground rules for the slumber party as Neteyam and Lo’ak set the sleeping bags on the floor behind you, Kiri off to accompany the metkayinan teenagers here, and Tuk sleeping over at one of her little friend’s homes.

“And that Veyä girl too, I don’t trust her. She’s already gotten your sister-”

“What??” you looked at him.

“Yeah, didn’t you see them yesterday? They were giggling with each other and all,” he rolled his eyes, “and when I tried to talk to her about it she flipped me off. My poor baby is beyond saving.”

“You’re insane, dude. She flipped you off cause there’s NOTHING going on between them. Honestly, I thought you watched enough romcoms to know they’re just friends? You’re getting so old.” you crossed your arms, a slight smile on your face as you teased your own father.

Neteyam chuckled behind you. “If Lo’ak said that, he’d get 40 lashes right then and there.”

Lo’ak rolled his eyes, unable to say anything cause he knew his older brother was right.

“Hey hey, first of all, don’t “dude” me, young lady.”

You rolled your eyes, there he was with his over-a-100-year-old father attitude, like seriously didn't those expire in the 2050's?

“Second, I’m not that old alright?”

You pursed your lips, holding back a laugh.

“Third, there’s SOMETHING going on there, I’m tellin’ ya, but if you don’t believe me, just see for yourself,” he raised his arms in the air surrenderingly.

“And fourth, Neteyam, where’d you get that from? You guys know I have never punished any of you by physical force–” he was interrupted by Lo’ak’s scoff.

“Hey, come on now.” he frowned, his heart sinking slowly, looking at how Lo'ak ignored him as he pat the wrinkles off his own sleeping bag.

“Y’know what, I’ll let your mother take over.” Jake whispered to you quickly.

“Lo’ak, walk with me.” he called him over. Your younger brother begrudgingly agreed, and they stalked off into the night.

“If he wasn’t such a troublemaker, he’d be the favourite child,” you stared at their backs as they disappeared into the trees, seemingly having a conversation.

“Well you’re the favourite child and you’re a troublemaker.” Neteyam responded nonchalantly, shrugging behind you.

“Well that’s just cause I have irresistible charm,” you smiled smugly at him, crossing your arms.

“Not to mention I inherited mom’s boldness, dad’s charisma, grandma’s wisdom, oh and I’m super talent- AGH” your list was interrupted by Neteyam throwing a pillow right smack into your face.

He laughed in your face, using the walls as support. You were about to throw the pillow back at him, raising your arm and gathering the force in your shoulder, but your mother stopped you.

“Y/N,” she leaned on the archways to the entrance of the marui, one of her hands holding up the flap. “Come. I wish to talk to you,” she gave you a small smile.

You dropped the pillow immediately, hopping outside after your favourite parent (shh, don’t tell Jake), abandoning Neteyam in the process.

“I suspect your father has given you enough rules to work with?” she smiled knowing how protective Jake was of you (AND your siblings, of course).

You nodded rather aggressively, and she laughed slightly, the sound spreading a warmth into your heart. She hadn’t really been the same since the news about..you know.

As you stood there with her, feeling her left hand tenderly pressed against the side of your head, you couldn't help but be grateful for her unwavering support.

With a small smile on her face, she shared the news that your dad's friends had made a discovery - something that could potentially cure you. “But they are unsure,” she trailed off, lips straightening into a thin line.

You could see the tears starting to form in the corners of her eyes, but you pretended not to notice.

You wished above all else you could say something, anything, to comfort her, but you knew that this was something beyond your control. At least, for now.

Without uttering a word, she pulled you into a gentle embrace, holding you close as you both hoped for a brighter future. It was the type of hug a mother would give if her only daughter was leaving for something like college.

But permanently.

You felt her basically crush your lungs, but you didn’t bother commenting about it. Luckily for you, she noticed how hard she was gripping you and loosened up a bit.

“Have fun tonight.” she whispered into your ear. You nodded, and the pain around your body served as a reminder of how much you meant to her.

You finally broke away from her death hug, waving a goodbye as your mother went away with her arms interlocked with your dad’s for their fun little date night.

“I hope they have fun.” Lo’ak stepped up behind you, watching your parents head to the ikrans together. “Just not too much fun, we really don’t need another sibling.”

“Ew! Why would you even say that??” you covered your mouth with your hand, unable to get the image out of your head, as Lo’ak laughed.

“That’s what I said like 7 years ago, and then Tuk appeared.” he shrugged, a cheeky smile on his face as he scampered back into the marui before you could hit him on the head.

“Lo’ak!” you sighed, following him back inside to wait for the rest of your friends to attend.

“Lo’ak, I dare you to take a dip in the water!”

“WHAT?” Lo’ak yelled. “Please bro, it’s freezing cold at night!” he pleaded to Rotxo, practically gruelling at his feet as the metkayina simply held in a laugh.

“It’s alright baby bro, worst case scenario, you’ll get hypothermia and die.” Kiri commented, waving her hand around in the air as she did so, Veyä giggling in response.

The metkayinans were getting situated with your favourite game, which would’ve made you super excited under normal circumstances. But your mind was stuck thinking about your bucket list. How in Eywa’s name were you going to find someone to go on a date with you?

You could’ve just asked Veyä, but unfortunately, your dad seemed to be right. Kiri and Veyä had sat directly next to each other, and everytime one of them spoke, they’d look at each other like… ew? Okay, we get it?

Rotxo was 100% oblivious to Kiri and Veyä’s relationship so unfortunately, he was still pining over your dear sister. So he was out of the question.

If you even tried to imply anything to Tsireya, Lo’ak would slit your throat while you were sleeping.

And Ao’nung would never say yes.

You would have to find some other metkayinan your age, be friends with them, woo them over, and ask them to go out on a date with you, and then have to explain to them that you were dying soon. So, that was out of the question too since you didn’t even have the energy for the first step.

“Ah Lo’ak, don’t be such a wuss.” Neteyam slapped Lo’ak on the back, earning a hoarse growl from the boy.

“After all, you have an audience,” he whispered, subtly nodding his head to point in Tsireya’s direction, and once he did, it’s like a fire arose within Lo’ak’s chest. He stood up immediately, stomping outside.

“It looks like he’s got his source of motivation.” Veyä chuckled wryly, and everyone went up to follow them.

Everyone except you and the frog.

“Are you not going to watch?” the frog spoke, eyes blinking slowly. He hugged his knees as he sat, his usually neat bun having strands flow down the sides of his face. With that, you realised that you’d be able to see him with his hair down tonight, which was certainly interesting to think about.

“Hm, no. I’m busy contemplating the best way I can do something that I need to do,” you responded, looking down at the floor. But then you thought about the game.

Oh.

Your gaze switched from the floor to Ao’nung immediately, a light twinkling in them like nothing you’d ever experienced before. As he tilted his head, wondering what was up with you and your sudden mood swings, your resolve was set.

The right half your mouth curled up into the most wicked smirk he’d ever seen on you. Goosebumps ran down his shoulders down to the very tips of his fingers, his lips parting subconsciously. Just then, Lo’ak burst through the flap of the marui.

“JESUS BALLS THATS FUCKING COLD” was one of the endless strings of profanity he shouted out as he grabbed a cloth from near his sleeping bag, rubbing it all over his soaking wet body in desperate attempt to free himself from the chains of being ‘shitting my ass freezing’. In order, Tsireya, Neteyam, Kiri, Veyä, and Rotxo came inside, laughing their behinds off.

By the time Ao’nung looked back at you, you looked as sweet as the dessert they’d serve at the day of an official mating, sitting cross legged with your hands placed on your knees, blinking your eyes innocently with a seemingly genuine smile on your face, acting like nothing had happened just moments before.

The laughter died down slowly, Lo’ak’s breaths becoming shaky as he struggled to regain his body heat. The order of the circle went: Neteyam, Lo’ak, Tsireya, Ao’nung, Rotxo, You, Kiri, and then Veyä. So by the rules, it was your turn to ask someone a truth or dare.

You pretended to look around, pretended to consider your options, pretended that you didn’t have everything planned out in your head already.

“Ao’nung.” you smiled innocently.

“Truth or dare?” you tilted your head to the left, trying to make your smile seem as innocent as possible so that it would seem wrong.

So wrong that he’d think you’d have a trap for him placed on truth. As he took his time thinking, he decided that you couldn’t possibly make him do something that would genuinely inconvenience him if he picked dare.

“Dare.” he nodded, and Neteyam’s eyes widened, knowing first hand how cruel your dares would be. Your smile turned wider on the right side, the sweet smile now turned into a grin of malicious victory.

He cringed; he knew that look. The look that would make the person his dear twin sister dared regret all their life decisions leading up to that very point. Would you make him lick the sand? Would you make him dance for everyone? Would you make him cuss out his friends without explanation? The possibilities were endless-

“I dare you,”

everyone held their breath.

“to go out on a date with me.”

And the circle erupted.

Neteyam was the first to react, letting out an extremely loud WHAT THE FUCK, Lo’ak let out a high pitched squeal that would’ve been Tsireya’s if she wasn’t covering her mouth out of surprise, Kiri’s jaw dropped straight to the floor, Veyä was just impressed, and poor Rotxo didn’t even hear what you had said.

And Ao’nung?

Oh, Ao’nung.

He was frozen.

Veyä started to hush everyone down, intrigued by the reason you’d even suggest that idea.

Without a single word leaving his lips, Ao’nung stood up, walking behind Rotxo. Then he grabbed your hand and led you outside, Veyä and Tsireya sending whistles and ‘whoops’ your way, and Rotxo had joined the fight in trying to push Neteyam back before he kicked Ao’nung in the shin.

You would’ve thought his grip on your wrist would hurt, but it didn’t. He was surprisingly gentle with you, and you willingly did most of the work getting yourself there.

He pulled you in front of a tree, his face just centimetres from yours. You looked up at him amusedly, smugly, even.

“Is there anything I can help you with, Ao’nung?”

His proper name on your tongue sounded like the most bitter of venoms and the most sweet of honeys to him at that moment. He searched your eyes as if he’d find anything other than yellow and black in them, and you stood there, back pressed against the smooth bark of the tree.

“Why?” he whispered, the huskiness of his voice combined with his metkayinan accent sending a delicious blaze down your spine.

“Why not?” you replied coolly, going so far as to let your eyes wander down his face, landing on his lips for a brief second.

It didn’t look like it, but you were doing your best to keep your heart from pumping out of your chest. He was so painfully close to you, his right leg in between yours.

He was already confused about you–– everything about you made his head spin. You spoke not truth nor lies, always in riddles. You were a troublemaker yet deemed responsible. Your personality was blazing hot, yet your skin always felt cold to the touch.

His eyes landed on your cheek, a tiny scratch embedded between the stripes that adorned your face like a piece of beautiful art. You were smaller than him in every aspect, yet you were stronger.

His attention turned to the little strip of hair above your eye, which enunciated the differences between you even further. You were a human, but you were also na’vi.

Then, his eyes finally fell on your smile. It described you like no other part of your face or body did. It could smile like a goddess but grin like the devil.

Without thinking, he leaned in (rather harshly, as you recall), pressing his lips to yours.

Bucket List!

Dance with a partner to my favourite song.

Drink alcohol

Go on your first date

Have a sleepover with my friends and siblings

Karaoke night

Have my first kiss

Receive an oshalia flower

It was just a small peck, and you both pulled away in an instant, and you looked at his neck blankly.

This was NOT what you intended.

You wanted a date and instead you got a kiss, but hey, something crossed off is something crossed off, righ—

His fingers pulled your chin up, interrupting your panicked train of thoughts. And the moment you looked into his eyes, you knew you were fucked.

You turned him insane. He spent the last 2 days thinking of not kissing you and there you both were.

As you both took a breath and processed things, Ao’nung brushed his thumb over his lips to see if he wasn’t dreaming, which made you smirk just a teeny tiny bit. (You were on the verge of screaming your lungs out cause what in the divinity of Eywa just happened?)

“So… I take it it’s a yes to that date?”

“...can you shut up”

STOP iiiiiiidk if that was the right thing to DOOO my plan for the first kiss was not supposed to be in this part but it just happened and i think it’s good??? Idkkkkkkkkkkkkkk im having doubts but i hope u guys enjoyed it 😭

but as for the rest of the slumber party they def stopped playing truth or dare because of neteyam, so they watched a movie instead, then they played charades, would you rather and whos most likely to :) originally i was planning on including all those things but it’d be way too boring and way too long so 💀 nvm!!!!!

So yeah! as always, i appreciate you all so much 💗💗💗💗 tysm for your support on this series! it means so much to me, you couldn't imagine.

much loved, lorre.

Taglist: @eywas-heir @elegantkidfansoul @yeosxxx @whoreforpomegranates @fanboyluvr @thecrazyswamp @shkudss @stvrligghtt @ratchetprime211 @dearstelll @littlecrisisworld @itssomeonereading @goodiesinthecloset21 @ilovejakesullysdick @larkkyoris @opalescentblog @lovedbychoi @plzfeedmebread @holysaladapricothero @arminsgfloll @evans-bitch @seashelldom @quest-for-pluto @bananasplits-world @ken-zah @anxietydrogz @inluvwithneteyam @www-interludeshadow-com @anonmously-anonomous

note: names in red are the ones i've added to the taglist but i couldn’t tag!

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azfellandco · 9 months

Text

OOPS! All Goats!: azfellandco's Good Omens Mountain Goats Playlist (spotify link here)

This is a playlist that's all Mountain Goats songs that remind me of Good Omens, with explanations.

Rain In Soho (x): nothing sharper than a serpent's tooth / nothing harder than the gospel truth / though you repent and don sackcloth and try to make nice / you can't cross the same river twice

Soho, serpent's tooth, can't cross the same river... this song to me conjures up Crowley driving the Bentley through London at night.

Rat Queen (x): great warm throb of the undercity / at one with the purpose / i am a faceless nameless acolyte / here tonight at your service

Crowley & Crowley's Rat Army... Crowley is the rat queen. this song choice is so unserious but I love the use of the word "acolyte" in this song

Heretic Pride (x): well they come and pull me from my house / and they drag my body through the streets... transfiguration's gonna come for me at last / and i will burn hotter than the sun / i waited so long and now i taste jasmine on my tongue

I've been meaning to make a video or a gifset or something for Agnes Nutter using this song literally since before s1 came out. have i done it yet? no.

Heel Turn 2 (x): get stomped like a snake / lie down in the dirt / cling to my convictions / even when i get hurt... stay good under pressure / for years and years and years and years

Crowley song.

Stench of the Unburied (x): incoherent but functional / speeding like a dead comet... but when the blue lights flash / i know we're going to crash

A Crowley driving in the Bentley song.

Cry For Judas (x): some people crash two or three times / and then learn from their mistakes / but we are the ones who don't slow down at all / and there's nobody there to catch us when we fall

Also a Crowley driving in the Bentley song, with bonus biblical era trauma.

Insurance Fraud #2 (x): big plans, big plans, let me tell you something sister: you will never get away with it

This is on here because I will never get over how funny I find it that book!Aziraphale keeps getting investigated for possible tax fraud.

Mark On You (x): when this is over / when we leave it all behind us / deep in the moonless night / when the rescue team finds us / it's gonna get so dark for you / i'm gonna leave a mark on you

Crowley to Aziraphale.

Riches and Wonders (x): we live high, our loves gorges / on the alcohol we feed it / and it grows all fat and friendly / we have surplus if we need it

This is the Mountain Goats Good Omens song to me. Aziraphale and Crowley in the bookshop, their love for each other, and clinging to each other through the ages.

Mobile (x): and the plant grew but it withered / it shriveled up and turned brown / i'm on a balcony... waiting for the wind to throw me down / lord if you won't keep me safe and warm / then send down the storm, send down the storm

Loss of faith. Aziraphale song.

Elijah (x): set the table, those three extra places / one for me, one for your doubts, one for God

Aziraphale song.

Grendel's Mother (x): i look down on the world from the top of this lonesome hill / and you can run, run some more... but i will carry you home in my teeth

Aziraphale to Crowley.

Ending the Alphabet (x): we've got the brightest skylight / like a vision of heaven in the evening sky... and the late sunlight makes them all look like angels / what is there left in a city like this / when everyone you know is gone?

London, the bookshop, and the impossibility of permanence when you're a pair of immortals trying to make a home for each other.

Deuteronomy 2:10 (x): i have no fear of anyone, i'm dumb and wild and free / i am a flightless bird and they'll be no more after me

About extinct animals, titled after a biblical passage about an extinct race of people. This song has always resonated with that same impossibility of permanence and the contradiction between that and Aziraphale and Crowley's love for the world and being in it.

Never Quite Free (x): it's okay to find the faith to saunter forward / with no fear of shadows spreading where you stand

Saunter hehehe. But no this is about Crowley's trauma.

New Britain (x): i try to tell you secrets 'til my face turns blue / i am not getting through to you

Aziraphale and Crowley can't communicate openly.

So Desperate (x): we were parked in your car / in our neutral meeting place... i had things i'd been meaning to say

This goes with that passage in the book where, during the years they were observing Warlock, Aziraphale and Crowley met "on the tops of buses, in art galleries, and at concerts" to me. Them meeting covertly but this time they're parked in the Bentley somewhere and one of them just starts to cry. "Desperate" is an apt description of their reaching for each other after so many years of not being able to, to me.

In the Craters on the Moon (x): when the room fills with smoke / lie down on the floor / in the declining years / of the long war

The 6000 year long war, in fact. Crowley in the burning bookshop.

Have To Explode (x): the stage is set / someone's gonna do something someone else will regret / i speak in smoke signals and you answer in code / the fuse will have to run out sometime / something here will eventually have to explode, have to explode

Aziraphale and Crowley being unable to communicate openly, speaking in code, the anticipation of the apocalypse, and always, the knowledge that the coming end is inevitable. A song for those low moments when they feel it's pointless.

Training Montage (x): i'm doing this for revenge / i am doing this to try and stay true / i'm doing this for the ones they left to twist in the wind / i'm doing this for you

"twist in the wind" echoing back to "send down the storm" in the song Moblie. Aziraphale and Crowley wanting to save each other and save their shared world and the way that makes them brave.

Love, Love, Love (x): snakes in the grass beneath our feet / rain in the clouds above / some moments last forever / but some flare out with love, love, love

The other ultimate Mountain Goats Good Omens song. This is that first rain in Eden.

#music #good omens #the mountain goats

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m-jelly · 1 year

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I’ve been watching Bridgerton so can I have a oneshot with nobility! Mike who is infamous for being a player amongst the women , but the one he wants is servant! Reader he has known since childhood. Please just give us sine flirty mike 🙏🏽

So, I've never seen Bridgerton so I'll base this on period pieces and Royal AUs I've done before.

What a sweet maid

Pairing: Mike x Fem!Reader

Genre and tags: Royal AU, fluff, romance, flirting, confessions, Mike is a Lord.

Concept: A lot of women Lord Mike and he's happy to flirt with them, but the one woman he wants is you. You think Mike lacks commitment and is just going to use you, so Mike does everything he can to prove that he doesn't care about titles and other women. He does his best to prove his love and dedication to you.

"My Lord, you are so handsome!" The woman clung to Mike's arm as he walked through the gardens with her. "So smart too and your land is incredible."

Mike hummed in response. He let the woman drone on and praise him, but he wasn't too interested because he wanted only one woman. He wanted you so desperately. He'd known you since you were kids, you played together and when he grew up you took on a role at his mansion and worked your way up to a maid.

He stopped in his tracks when he saw you with a basket full of washing. He dragged his arm from the woman with him and ignored her shouts as he hurried over to you. He smirked a little as he felt excited to see you. He just wanted to hold you in his arms.

You put the basket down on the floor as you stood in front of the line. You pulled out the sheet and flapped it a few times before draping over the line. You moved to the tips of your toes and started pegging it in place. You grabbed another sheet and did the same thing, but this was harder to peg because of a gust of wind.

You gasped when you felt a big solid body press against your back. Your cheeks burned when you smelt the familiar scent of your childhood friend who was also your boss. You squeaked as his big hands took over and pinned up the sheet to dry in the summer sun. You felt your heart race when he released the line and wrapped an arm around you.

Mike leaned down and chuckled against your ear. "Perhaps I should find you a stool to help you reach?"

You pouted and tried to push his arm down and off you, but he held on. "Perhaps you should release me and return to your main source of entertainment."

Mike released you and kept a close eye on you as you worked. "Entertainment?"

"I am very much aware of your multiple bed fillers."

He spun a little around you to face you. "Bed fillers? As far as I am aware, there has been none. My nights are lonely. My bed is cold. My office and my paperwork consumes my time."

You let out a long sigh. "This explanation is not needed. You are my Lord. You need not excuse your actions."

"But I want to."

You stared at him. "Why? Oh, it must be so you can ensure that your maid fulfils her duty to the fullest by informing her of your duties."

He let his emotions take over causing him to sigh and his face to drop, he looked tired to you. He softly said your name. "Forgive me, I believe I am making you uncomfortable and I have failed to portray who I am to you and what I desire."

You hugged yourself as sadness filled your heart. "Mike..."

He smiled sadly at your words. "What a delight that was to hear. It has been so long since you have called my name."

You fiddled with your dress. "If you are playing the role, and I suspect you have been, then you must be truly tired. I implore you to rest. I am not asking as a maid but as your friend." You moved closer to him and gazed up at him. "A role or character is not needed. I am sure the real you will be adored."

He walked right up to you and caressed your cheek. "Do you adore the real me?"

You nodded shyly. "Very much. If I did not, I would not be pleading with you to release that side of you. You are truly a wonderful man." You pulled from his touch and picked up the empty basket. "I have wasted enough of your time. Your date requires your attention."

Mike followed you without looking at his date. "I require your attention."

You turned to him. "My Lord?"

"Forgive me, I am being selfish. I just want you."

You hugged the basket tightly. "Mm, how nice that would be..." You gasped and bowed deeply. "Excuse me!"

Mike watched you hurry away and return to the mansion. He let out a long sigh and longed for you to return to him. He scrunched his nose when he smelt the woman return to him. "Go home, my dear, I am done playing." He turned to her and saw her shock. "Inform your friends that I no longer wishes to entertain ladies anymore."

She pouted hard. "Entertain! You jest! Balls and strolls through your grand garden are lacking in entertainment. You pulled us along like fishes on hooks. Not a single kiss, nor a roll in the sheets. Perhaps your goal was to incite jealousy within that tart of a maid."

"Hold your tongue before you regret your words. You may speak ill of me, but never my maid."

She laughed in his face. "You wish to lay and wed with a maid!? How far you will fall as a Lord to wed a servant. Your children will be mocked and tainted. You know not of what you are doing." She shook her head and grinned. "She will never be accepted in high society."

Mike grabbed her upper arm and dragged her to her carriage and spoke to his guards. "Refuse entry to her if she should ever return. I do not wish to see her ever again."

He pulled away from his people and returned to his office. He spent hours writing letters to different people about rejecting proposals and rejecting advancements from past women. Mike was done with playing this fake player and wanted to be with you. He needed to show you who he really was and that his heart was full of love for you.

Mike did everything he could to prove how much you meant to him. He showered you in gifts but made sure to start small at first. He always took care of his staff, so much so that they had their own nice rooms, had a high paid wage and had everything they needed to work. He just went the extra mile for you, which his staff did not mind as they knew how madly in love Mike was with you.

You inhaled deeply at the knock at your bedroom door. You slipped out of bed and opened it to reveal Mike. "Good morning, forgive my attire."

"You are stunning." He moved closer and inhaled deeply. "You smell wonderful in the mornings. I wish to wake up next to it."

You felt your heart skip a beat. "Mike..."

"I came to collect you."

You pulled away from the door and moved around your room. "For what?"

He sat on your bed and smiled. "A date."

"A date?"

He nodded. "I wish to take you on a date. I have much planned for us both."

You changed behind your screen into a delicate dress Mike bought for you. "You have changed so much." You walked out and smiled. "It is wonderful to see the real you."

"You inspired me. I desire to be with you. As you are aware, I have fully removed myself from the old role I played." He reached over and took your hand before pulling you closer. "You are a vision."

"Thank you."

He showered your hand in kisses before inhaling your scent. "My heart only beats your name. I care for you deeply." He looked up at you and said your name. "Forgive me, but my actions before this change were ways to get you to notice me. I tried to spark your jealousy. How foolish of me." He lowered his head. "I will accept any punishment you see fit for my unjust actions."

You knelt before Mike and looked up at him. "How long have you loved me?"

"Many years."

You grabbed a bit of his beard and pulled making him yelp. "That is the only punishment I will give. I will admit I am angry with you. However, I am so happy that you care for me as I care for you. Mike, I have loved you for so long but I am a mere maid and you are a Lord."

"Love has higher authority than our titles."

You hummed a laugh. "You really believe that?"

Mike cupped your face. "I do."

You kissed Mike's cheek making him smirk. "That is for admitting the truth and becoming the man we all care about."

He pulled you close and kissed you. "I have been dying to do that for so long. Your lips are sweeter than I could have ever imagined. I would love to do that more."

"I too would love to do that more."

Mike kissed you again and sighed through his nose as he melted against you. "A date. We have a date." He stood you up before standing. "I have much for us to do. I do hope you enjoy."

You hugged his arm. "So, I have a question about our love. I do believe there is intention to be a couple."

"With marriage too."

"Yes." You nibbled your lip. "What am I to do with my role?"

Mike helped you into the carriage. "You will cease as my maid and become my lover and then wife. You will take the title of Lady and be at my side and help me rule and care for the people."

You smiled softly. "I will do my best."

"I know you will." He placed his hand in his pocket and pulled out a small box. "A gift."

"Mike."

He opened it to show a necklace. "I know, I know you have asked me to reduce the gifts but I struggle to control myself. Do you like it?"

You nodded. "It is beautiful."

He took the necklace and put it on you. He pulled you into his arms and held you. "My love."

#jelly fanfics #mike zacharius x reader #mike x you #mike x reader #mike zakarius #mike zacharias #mike zacharias x reader #miche zacharius x reader #aot miche #miche x reader #miche zacharias #aot fanfiction

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cutekittenlady · 1 month

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Planes, Trains, and Autobots

Summary Fic Part 2

[Previous] [Next]

((Srsly I need a title for this thing. Willing to take suggestions.))

Opening up on the Maltos House where, after the end of the first season, Bumblebee and the other Autobots have started taking efforts to educate the Terrans about Cybertronian culture and history in more detail. Something Alex enthusiastically takes part in.

(Really this is just an excuse for me, as a fan, to import whatever aspects of the previous lore I find most appealing, as well as inserting some stuff of my own.)

While they are doing this who should finally appear?

Ratchet. Because Ratchet needs to be in Earthspark. I will take no arguments.

(Definitely prefer his characterization as an older more experienced cybertronian medic so kinda going off that here. Generally for this fan speculative Earthspark version of Ratchet I see him, as always, being the Autobots top combat medic as well as one of their most senior and experienced members with a long friendship with Optimus. LIke a lot of the other Autobots, hes accepted Megatrons change of heart but unlike the others he doesnt necessarily get along with him and is not above bringing up past grievances or criticizing Megs for current as well as past decisions hes made. Hes generally a good hearted if grmpy guy, and a highly ethical medical practitioner with strong views.)

Optimus had asked Ratchet to finally come and meet the Terrans both to further introduce them to more potential allies they could rely on and also because it was becoming increasingly important that they finally gain an understanding of how the Terrans health works so that they can best meet their needs if they're ever hurt or in need of any other kind of medical aide.

Cue some adorable moments of Ratchet putting the Terrans through various basic exercises and roping them in when they try to show off their abilities to him while he remains unfazed. The Terrans initially think this means Ratchet doesnt like them, but Bumblebee clarifies that Ratchet is just so used to the various powers and abilities of all the cybertronians hes treated over his millions of years of life that hes almost, quite literally, seen it all. Besides which hes far more concerned with figuring out areas of the Terrans health that might need his attention rather than anything else. Lol obviously cue Ratchet being grouchy and immediately undercutting whatever it is Bumblebees just said.

Eventually the subject of Conjunx Endura (Cybertronian concept like marriage which I believe was introduced in the IDW comics) somehow comes to the Terrans attention and they try asking the various Autobots (and maybe Megatron?) about it but the group gets flustered FAST and plays hot potato with the subject until it comes to Ratchet who takes up the subject while deriding the others for not being able to get ahold of themselves to actually explain one of their most important ceremonies to the kids.

((Note: As an inherently asexual species thats nonetheless capable of the full gauntlet of emotions while ALSO living for millions of years, I tend to h/c that to the cybertronians the concept of being in love and married is an incredibly intimate subject that, historically, most younger bots aren't taught about until they're considered experienced enough in other things to grasp the gravity of the subject. The Terrans are, at most, a year old or so. So them asking the various autobots about the subject is, socially speaking, like your toddler asking you where babies come from.))

Ratchet thinks if they're old enough to ask the question, they're old enough to get an answer. Still Dot and Alex insist on being present since a) despite his enthusiasm Alex has no idea what the Conjunx Endura is, b) the terrans are all their adopted children, and c) are themselves insanely curious about what could make the autobots and Megatron so flustered. Which is good, because Ratchet winds up needing their help as his explanation of the concept is incredibly dry and tends to reference a lot of aspects of Cybertronian culture the Terrans just dont know. Dot and Alex, as adults who happen to be married, are able to compare and contrast the concept to their own marriage to help the Terrans understand.

Ratchet does insist that the two are different in various ways though Dot is quick to hammer home that the important part is that its a special ceremony only to be launched with a special person you deeply love romantically. Something Ratchet agrees with and makes clear that while he wants the Terrans to understand what a Conjunx Endura IS, they're far far too young to pursue anything of the like and are definitely too young to learn about the Conjux Ritus, the set of rituals meant to tie two Conjux Endura together.

Alex and Dot thanks Ratchet for letting them learn about something so personal to the Cybertronians but do ask, out of curiosity, why the others were so flustered about it. Ratchet explains that because Conjunx are so personal many consider it an embarrassing subject to broach in mixed and professional company, and asking a bot you dont know really well about their conjunx or whether or not they have one is considered tactless and even rude. When asked why he isn't embarrassed about the subject, he explains carefully that he actually has a conjunx of his own and "after a million years together the embarrassment of the subject just sorta wears off" though he doesnt pursue the subject of his Conjunx any further.

Instead he changes subject and tell Dot and Alex to keep in mind that the Conjunx Endura can go wrong. On Cybertron there were bad actors who would lure unsuspcted bots into forming a Conjunx for favors, gain social standing, or other perks. At best they'd then abandon them allowing the victim to make an appeal and get the whole thing nullified, but at its worse it could trap bots into loveless onesided connections, or a toxic relationship.

Ratchet is surprised to find that Dot and Alex are shockingly accepting of this, saying that sadly marriage amongst humans can run much the same risk.

Alex even making a small comment like, "Just like my soap operas/stories!"

Again they thank Ratchet for telling them all this, and for looking after the kids by making sure they're informed.

Dot tries to prompt the kids to thank Ratchet only to discover most of the group had long since gotten distracted at some point in the conversation with only Nightshade and Jawbreaker really paying attention throughout the whole thing.

Alex tries to apologize but Ratchet responds with some dry humor that having at least 2/5 of young bots fully paying attention throughout the whole explanation is actually a pretty good turnout and that they can try explaining the whole thing to the others again "in due time."

They're then interrupted by the announcement that Breakdown has arrived at the Maltos house.

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lokisasylum · 7 months

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The article interviewed representative theorists of Korean dance Professor Kim Ji-won and dance critic Dr Lee Chan-ju about Korean dance and its genealogy.

Jimin's mention:

"Jimin (BTS), barefoot and dressed in white, slowly walks to the front of the stage with a soft white cloth draped over his shoulders and his gaze down. Then, for about 1 minute and 20 seconds, he displays the intense movement of throwing, pulling, and caressing the cloth wrapped around his shoulders and arms into the air. This is a performance performed by Jimin titled ‘I Need U’ at the 2019 Melon Music Awards. Although it is said to be a modern dance, Koreans can quickly tell that it is a reinterpretation of ‘Salpuri dance.’ In 2018, Jimin performed an original fan dance on the same stage and received a plaque of appreciation from the Kim Baekbong Fan Dance Preservation Society, saying he had ‘contributed to raising the status and aesthetic value of the fan dance globally.’ There was an uproar among overseas fans who heard Jimin's 'I Need You' for the first time. What on earth is that dance and what does the cloth mean? BTS' video containing this scene achieved hundreds of millions of views."

“BTS' performance is a motif or reinterpretation of traditional dance, but people who encounter Korean dance for the first time will soon want to know what the original dance is and the meaning of the cloth used as a prop.”

“If you look closely at the Salpuri dance, the cloth is not removed at all. In some ways, catching and putting it back , letting go and winding it again are inevitable. I shared affection with all my loved ones, but after losing that affection, there will be regret and obsession, and it seems there will be tearful conflicts. So, I complain to the cloth, and I wrap it, unwind it, and get tangled up again while trying to get myself together for having to live with the loss of the things I love.”

"After hearing this explanation and watching Jimin's performance again, each movement is interpreted in a new way. Professor Kim said that when she was learning Salpuri dance, her teacher said, “Have you never even loved? She laughs, saying that it was only after a long time that she realized the meaning of his words, 'Come back with more love'.”

#Jimin DATA #jimin #park jimin #bts jimin #pjm #bts #jiminie #Jimin news #Jimin's dance

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aurianavaloria · 5 months

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Sicut in Caelo et in Terra - Fanfic Logo

Debated a long time over whether or not to actually share this, but ultimately decided to just go ahead and throw it out there in case anyone might be interested. This is the fic logo for my WIP Star Trek/Kingdom of Heaven crossover (it will eventually go at the top of my posted chapters, whenever I actually get around to finishing the first one, that is). Lots of symbolism going on here that's pertinent to both the characters and the plot.

I drew on traditional heraldic elements as inspiration. Obviously the "shield" is the Starfleet emblem, but is also specifically representative of a Voyager-era combadge, and the "heraldry" that has been branded on the shield is the arms of the Kingdom of Jerusalem.

Flanking the shield are white damask roses, which not only function as plot device material, but were also used medicinally in the medieval period for everything from the skin to the brain and heart; this use has largely been backed up by modern science. As such, they are partially emblematic of everyone's favorite masked king...

Speaking of everyone's favorite masked king, his crown adorns the peak of the shield, itself overloaded with symbolism:

~ Fleurs des lys as the symbol of Frankish royalty ~ Crosses representing the heraldry of Jerusalem, but studded with five rubies each for the five wounds of Christ ~ Rubies around the browband symbolizing the wounds from the crown of thorns ~ Pearls symbolizing purity, but also clustered in three to represent the Trinity

Then we've got shredded bandages (I'll let you guess what that means 😉).

And finally there's the title banner, the translation of which in and of itself possesses a double meaning ("on Earth as it is in Heaven").

Anywho, if you made it to the end of this long-winded description/explanation, I hope it was at least a somewhat interesting read. XD And maybe let me know what you think, lol?

And if you're looking for WIP snippets of the fic, you can find them here and here. Enjoy!

#baldwin iv #kingdom of heaven #king baldwin iv #fanfiction #fanart #kingdom of heaven 2005 #star trek #work in progress #crossover #my art

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seaofolives · 3 months

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Opening Line Patterns

Rules: List the first line of your last 10 (or however many you have) posted fics and see if there's a pattern!

me immediately upon seeing the rules: what ARE the last 10 fics I posted???

ANYWAY thank you for tagging me @clockwayswrites!!!! I thought I'd exclude some Filipino fics here and focus on the English ones but uhhhh same writer, different language and the same writer is also lazy as always so uhhhh from the latest to the not-so-latest????

also all my starters are paragraph blocks and nobody needs to read all that so we're going with starting sentences

also I'm gonna tag people now so y'all don't have to click the read more! @safarikalamari @isleofair @ginwilliamsart (i know you've written some!!!!) @tagulansahulyo

i like you a normal amount

gladnis, ffxv, g ("liv is that a gladnis fic????" YES IT'S A GLADNIS FIC AFTER SO LONG I'M SO HAPPY 😭😭😭)

Thereʼs a joke amongst the employees of the Citadel that even the screw that holds the windows together is more expensive than their collective salary—which is why, when some object that sounds like a rock hits his office window, Ignis jumps from his seat in a panic.

if ever you're in my arms again

guesule, g witch, g

Staring at the elevator’s display, a wicked thought asks Suletta: what would she do if the numbers suddenly went right back to 1?

wonderful tonight

guesule, g witch, g

Men don’t take too long getting ready.

pers lab/first love

guesule, g witch, g

🇵🇭

Siguro ay wala pang nakakalipas na limang minuto iyong dinampot muli ni Guel ang kuwadernong pang-estudyante niya para itext ang kapatid.

🇺🇸

There probably hasn’t been five minutes from his last text when Guel picks up his student notebook to send another message to his brother.

kahit konting pagtingin

translation: even just a little look (or smth)

sulemio, guesule, g witch, g

this fic doesn't have a full English translation yet but I'll translate the line in English here, anyway. also can I just say??? that the thing about sticking with pre-90s songs for titles is that it's kind of not funny to hear them playing in your head as you go through your works 🤣🤣🤣 my head is like a playlist now where I keep pressing next

🇵🇭

Nakakapanibago si Miorine ngayon.

🇺🇸

Thereʼs something different about Miorine today.

roman holiday

guesulemio, g witch, t+

The golden light captures him in its cool embrace, and Guel gasps to himself.

nandito ako/i'm here

guesule, g witch, g

right so! a bit of an explanation with this one: nandito ako (which is the original fic) was definitely posted way before the last ten fics but a part of the last ten fics I posted was its English translation i'm here. so I'm linking both

🇵🇭

Hay, sabi nga ni Lauda. Out of stock ang caramel latte, pati na sa malaking 7-11 sa campus!

🇺🇸

Well. It’s just as Lauda said—even in that giant 7-11 within the campus, there’s not a can of the caramel latte flavor within sight.

wind beneath my wings

shaddigue, g witch, e

With so little things even going Guel’s way anymore, it makes it easier for him to appreciate the smaller things that life has to offer.

a perfect christmas

guesule, g witch, g

no full English translation for this one either

🇵🇭

Mainit nga ang tubig na pinanligo ni Guel, pero pagkatapak naman niya sa kuwarto niya eh tila kinuryente siya sa ginaw.

🇺🇸

Guel may have taken a hot shower, all right, but the minute he steps out into his bedroom, heʼs jolted by the cold.

i think i'm in love

sulemio, g witch, g

no full English translation for this one either. the sentence construction is different, too, but that's language differences for you

🇵🇭

Biglang napaisip si Miorine—kung tutuusin, hindi naman talaga siya nahilig sa basketbol.

🇺🇸

Now that Miorine thinks about it, she realizes sheʼs never really been into basketball.

in conclusion

i had noooo idea I've been posting mostly filipino fics of late, that's amazing 😂 but in conclusion conclusion the thing about me is that I think my most natural opening is a dialogue but because I'm aware of that, I think that's the reason why I've shied away from it bc there's an imaginary audience at the back of my head pointing a finger at me and laughing. like "haha look it's a one-trick pony" and here I am whirling to my shadow and saying "no I'm not!!!!"

BUT so I was expecting at least one dialogue starter in all of these fics but it turns out that has never been the case lmao. but also like, so when my sister was still in college, she taught me about "in medias res" which really stuck to me because I thought it was the most natural way of things. time is flowing, every beginning could be a middle or an end of something and it also resolves the problem of having to build up something before you get to the meat. like biting into a sandwich with the main filling bunched up in the middle or smth

and I guess that's affected my style, too? like something's always already happening, enough for the perspective to make an observation, or the action is already happening.

which makes me sound smarter than I really am but I never said I was qualified to analyze my own works in the first place 🤣

#liv is typing

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always-andromeda · 1 year

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If you’re still accepting them- molasses chip with Burt please 🥺

– 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐌𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝

𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐅𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐆𝐍!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: okay, so, to be fair. this request was a liiiittle bit late for my cutoff on my event but I fell in love with the concept so bad that I just had to write it lol. and if you recognize the title from the slogan of Meet the Robinsons, no you do not!!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: slight spoilers for the ending of The Fabelmans, bits of angst, but mostly pure tooth-rotting fluff, nothing else I can think of!

Burt Fabelman was a bit of a stranger to the words, “I love you,” even before he met you.

Sure, he said it a few times to his kids (he definitely didn’t say it enough to his ex-wife). But, truth told, he never really thought of it. Always too caught up with his work, he curses himself now when he thinks about his family slowly drifting further and further away from him.

But it’s too late to hold onto regrets. He must keep moving forward.

So on and on he goes, an unflinching pillar of intelligence and resilience; the sturdy and reliable man he’s always been.

After Mitzi, he couldn't fathom a love that could top that. She was his beacon for so long...nothing could compare.

Until you do.

He finds that his feelings for you aren't necessarily stronger or higher than the kind of love he once had. It's merely different. Which is why it doesn't exactly work the way he intends it to when he tries to approach it the same way he once did. Not like his way ever worked in the first place.

He shows it with gifts. Dresses and countless pieces of jewelry and new appliances, all presented with some long winded explanation as to where they came from and/or how they work.

Admittedly, it's always sweet when he gives you a present. Because Burt doesn't need a holiday to use an excuse to spoil you. It could be something as simple as you mentioning something you needed and he'd be trying to find an open store on his way home from work trying to find it for you just to cross off another thing on your to-do list.

His reasoning for all of it? Because he wants to take care of you. He makes plenty of money to do so. All he strives to do is make sure you'll never have to worry about clothes, bills, and almost any day to day struggle ever again.

The emotional side of things...he's a little less well versed on. The words just happen to escape him. Because they leak out into everything else he does for you. You're smart enough to gather the obvious, right?

One morning, he'll give you his usual black coffee tainted kiss. And normally, you'd wish him well on his day and straighten his tie or smooth back a loose strand of hair before he goes off for work. But this time when he pulls back, Burt finds your dubious gaze darting between his eyes and his mouth.

Burt hums inquisitively.

You're quiet for a second longer and then you answer, "I love you."

In a split second, you catch his green eyes widen from behind his lenses before he blinks quickly and presses another quick kiss to your forehead. "Have a good day, honey."

That's how he leaves you for the day. Feeling rejected. And confused. And for once, Burt is perplexed too. It shouldn't be this hard saying it, should it? he finds himself thinking while at work.

Because it isn't as simple as butterflies and physical attraction. Love means commitment and commitment means rearranging his life once more. Letting go of Mitzi was difficult enough.

And why did you have to let go of her in the first place? he thinks. Come on, Burt. You're intelligent. You've already figured this one out.

He's well aware of his shortcomings. And now he's even more well aware that he's on the course of repeating history; something that intelligent men don't do.

Burt spends almost the whole work day visualizing the scene in his head. How he would deliver some grand apology. He'd hold you and say that you loved you as many times as you needed to in order to understand that your feelings are reciprocated. At least this one time, Burt would try to be a man of words outside of his usual scientific vocabulary; both for your sake and for his.

But when he comes home to you and finds you waiting for him, everything else disappears. The only thing that manages to stick are those three words. The words that stand between him and the future.

He strides across the floor to you, hardly wasting a single second before he's cupping your cheeks and pursing his lips before finishing your sentiment from that morning, "I love you too." And almost immediately, the fear of the unknown starts to melt away as you lean into his touch and accept his unspoken apology for being so afraid in the first place.

#chocolate box valentine event❣️#paul dano #danocel #danonation #the fabelmans #burt fabelman #burt fabelman x reader #burt fabelman x you #burt fabelman x y/n #˚ʚ meda writes ɞ˚

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spookylizpg · 9 months

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What It Is To Be A Grandmaster. . . (SubSmoke Fanfic)

I finally wrote a ship fanfic. Hopefully, I will get the courage to write more because it is becoming more enjoyable to me now. This one is about Kuai being a Grandmaster and using that power on poor Smoke. The last part is very smut so you know what that means. 18+ ONLY!!!

Days after being crowned the Grandmaster title to Kuai Liang, he has proven well to deserve such a role to Lin Kuei. Proving himself to be a strong leader with his cold demeanor. Kuai Liang is someone to be respected yet to be feared. He is in touch with his humanity but is willing to set an example for those who decide to step out of line. It could be anyone, especially his inner circle. On a fine day like this, Kuai Liang finishes his daily routine quicker than expected as he wants to attend to the warriors. Outside Lin Kuei's garden, his warriors were practicing their fighting stance. Something caught the Grandmaster's eyes. Hair flowing with the wind, such a beautiful shade of grey. It was Tomas sitting down at the small frozen pond, looking at his reflection. Kuai's pupils began to expand, showing an affection glare. He adores looking at Tomas and always finds a way to express it. Since he became a leader, he needed to deliver a harsh side to him. Nobody will take him seriously if he shows compassion all the time. So he walks up to Smoke with an aggressive stance and his glare into more of a cold stare.

"Smoke! I see that you are enjoying yourself!" Kuai Liang voiced, "Shame, it really isn't the time for that, is it?"

Tomas jumped at the sudden harsh voice since he was so calm looking deep in his reflection. He looks up to the Grandmaster with always a caring expression.

"Finally, your eyes are set on me. It's better to explain why you lack the motivation to do mundane chores." Kuai Liang sternly said, his cold eyes never failing to bring a chill to the spine. It's all you see due to him wearing his mask as it blows out the freezing mist breathing out of him.

Tomas immediately took account that his Grandmaster wasn't playing around. So, he stood up and bowed to him as he apologized profusely.

"I am so sorry, Grandmaster Kuai Liang." He looked down, "Please, I shall fix my mista-"

"Eyes."

"Oh, that's correct-" He then looks up to him, "I shall provide an explanation, master. . ."

"Then speak it!" Kuai raised his voice. Made Tomas shiver to his core.

"Yes, of course!" Tomas took a bit of time to gather all his thoughts together. "I was just taking a break from training with Lin Kuei warriors. Yet, I got distracted and began to be in deep thought. I am truly sorry, my dear Grandmaster. It won't ever happen again."

"Hmm...if I summon one of the warriors here and now. Would their statement support your claim?"

"Yes, of course."

"Fine, I believe you on this."

Smoke let out a sigh of relief. He thought for sure that Kuai Liang was going to take the long way in this situation. He got off his knees and stood up but never met Kuai Liang in the eyes again. Tomas was ready to dismiss himself and go back inside. Suddenly, he felt a tight grip on his arm. His mind began to panic as he glanced back at him.

"Just wait one moment, Smoke...do you really think I'm done with you?" Kuai Liang let out a scoff, "Silly..."

"When the sun sets, I want you around my master bedroom. I want to discuss things further. Don't worry. It's just some planning I need to check with you."

Tomas nodded as he peaked at his Grandmaster's hand still banded around his arm. Once the cryomancer notices his glance. He immediately let go, then shock back to him.

"Get back to it!" The Grandmaster turned his back to him and left just like that. Leaving poor Smoke in such a disorganized state.

As the sun set on the horizon, Smoke set his path to meet the Grandmaster around the master bedroom. Saying his greetings to every warrior who walked by. Yet his mind is still puzzled about the whole situation that happened. He wonders why Kuai Liang needs him. If there are any more of the big rough acts again. He approaches the door and stands there for a while. Waiting for the cryomancer to appear in his sight. He could be busy with something. When is he not busy, Smoke thought.

"Perfect punctuation like always, dear Tomas." There he was, the man of the hour. He appears more peaceful. He doesn't let Smoke speak and plows him inside the room. He shut the door behind them. Now solitary in the room, for those two to finally voice truthfully.

"You wanted something, my Grand-"

"Ah! Wasn't that great!?"

"Hmm?"

"I pulled it off!" Kuai Liang turns to Smoke with a big smile. It made Tomas' heart skip a beat. "Well, I think so! What do you think!? A great leader, huh!?"

The upbeat Sub Zero went for a hug at Smoke. Tomas gradually hugged him back.

"Yes, you were very convincing...even for me." Smoke chuckled, "Why pull such an act?"

"Oh, knowing I wasn't really destined to be this but more of Bi-Han's dream to do so. People will expect me to be a goofy leader. Nobody will ever take me seriously if I don't put on this act. I want to show I mean business! Yet.." Sub Zero sighed, "I felt immoral doing that to you..."

He stroked Smoke's tender cheek as his smile was bittersweet. Smoke's hand was placed on his as he smiled.

"You barely took off your mask..." Sub Zero remarked, "Now, you show it proudly...your face."

"Well, I just wanted my lover to admire my face as much as he wants." Smoke smiles as he reaches toward Sub Zero. "Also, it did give me a spook. I know you meant well. Secretly, it kinda turns me on."

Kuai Liang's cheeks blossomed with a stunning shade of red when he heard those words.

"Oh, Really? Didn't take you for a person enjoys being shoved around and belittled almost." Sub Zero took off his mask and set it aside. "It still feels horrible! I feel like I'm hurting my sweet flower! My dear love! My everything!" He snuggled Smoke tightly as he sighed.

"You're alright, honey!" Tomas chuckled at all the adorable nicknames he spewed. "It's okay. You have to make an impression on the clan! Cutting me out of it will be so unjust to the rest...even to Sektor- You know he'll be the first to complain about it."

"Yeah, I can see it now!" Kuai Liang clears his throat. "How come you are so soft on that smoke ball!? Just because he's your boyfriend doesn't mean you can treat him like royalty while we get only your bad side, you know!?"

Sub Zero's impression of Sektor made Tomas laugh.

"Yes, exactly like that!" Tomas smiled as Sub Zero glanced at him with a smile as well.

"Besides, you told me like it. How tough and demanding I can be.~"

Kuai Liang began to hold his hands. Seemingly guiding him to the bed. Tomas followed his lead as his cheeks were soft red. Sub Zero took the band that wrapped around his head and wrapped it around his hands.

"Lay."

Kuai Liang suddenly returned to Grandmaster mode and left the room filled with chills. Tomas did what he was told and lay on the bed.

"Good...Good...Listen here-" Kuai Liang tightened the band. "I decided to show you when you cross the line, Smoke. In this room, you must obey all my rules, understand?"

Smoke peaked up to him but didn't respond.

"Understand!?" Without hesitation, The Grandmaster got on the bed to get close to Tomas' face.

"Yes! I understand...Master-"

"Good!"

Kuai Liang began using the band to bind Tomas as he pleased. His hand was placed on the top of Smoke's chin and the other on his chest. He closed in and went to plant his lips on his tender lips. Their tongues mixed in. Kuai Liang misses this, kissing his lover so passionately. He could tell that Tomas missed this too due to the fact when they parted. Smoke reaches for more, but his neck needs attending. Kuai Liang kisses his neck, leaving bite marks. He loves hearing his lover moan his name under his breath. Smoke felt the band tightening around his hands. Sub Zero enjoys seeing him all tied up. It fascinated him that Tomas could barely move from his restriction. He wishes he could tie him up even more. His band barely covers a good space, but his hands will do.

"Now then....I'll show you what it truly is to be a Grandmaster."

((A tease for part 2 cuz atm I am not 100 percent ready to do full on smut,,, I'm sorrrryyyyyyy ;;))

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat 11 #mortal kombat fanfic #fanfic #my work #mk sub zero #sub zero #mk kuai liang #mk smoke #smoke #tomas vrbada #subsmoke #ship fanfic #mortal kombat fanfiction

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blizzardfluffykpop · 1 year

Text

Ride With U

Summary: “I'm good, I'm down for you, You wanna ride with me?” It doesn’t matter the transportation, as long as it’s Hyungwon driving, you know you’re in for the time of your life.

Oneshot

Fluff, Strangers to Lovers au, Motorcyclist au

[TW: Mentions a past motorcycle accident (does not involve major characters)]

Word Count: 6,732

Hyungwon X Reader

[Long A/n: They do fall in love kind of fast- but hear me out- it’s motorcycle rider Hyungwon-. Anyways some things/terms to know before diving in. Firstly, I don’t know how long Hyungwon drove a motorcycle, this is just speculation. Secondly, a Swap Meet is an area where people sell tools/car parts/collectibles and sometimes there will be vendors that sell jewelry or fashion. Lastly, a Chassis is the underneath of a car. If anything else needs explanations/pictures- feel free to send me an ask! 🥰Also credits to @jinkoh for helping inspire this long-winded fic- and helping pick the title! 🥺💖💖]

------

When you first saw Hyungwon, he was getting off his motorcycle, and you couldn’t help but stare at him. And then, when he took his helmet off and shook out his hair, you nearly fell out of the chair you were sitting in. Your friends turned and looked out the window to see what captured your attention. And they let out a collective “Ooh~” The four of you watched as he walked into the restaurant. All three of them started hyping you up. The one goes, “Come on, what’s the worst he could say?” Your other friend chimes in, “No. And that’s it! So why don’t you ask him?” And you whined and put your face behind your hands, “But he’s so handsome. And! He drives a motorcycle. He’s totally going to reject me.” Your friend beside you rubbed your shoulder and comfortingly said, “It’s okay. Who would want to reject a pretty thing like you~” You laughed and shook your head before they continued, “Come on, you haven’t been on a date in months!” You sigh, “I know,” The three of them nodded like you were going to say something exciting, “But I’m nervous!” They all groaned, “Come on!” And your friend to the left says, “After he orders, why don’t you go over there?” You nod. And look over at him and watch as he sips his coke and reads the menu.

When the waiter comes over, he tells him his order and hands him his menu. And your friends all give you encouraging words, and you whisper to them before you get up. “No guarantees that I’ll be able to ask him!” They laughed, “We’re just happy we convinced you to try!” You roll your eyes, trying to calm your nerves, and ask him, “Hey, is this seat taken?” He shakes his head ‘no’ with a small smile. And you sit across from him and ask, “Is that your motorcycle out there?” As if you hadn’t seen him get off of it. He nods, “Yeah. I’m planning on getting rid of it this month.” You hold back your surprise as you ask, “Why?” He gives you a small smile, “I want to try something safer.”

You nod, “That’s reasonable.” You see a light smirk playing on his lips before he asks, “Would you like to ride with me a few times before I do?” Your eyes light up in excitement as you shake your head, 'yes,' and he goes, “Great, then it’s a date.” You blush. Realizing this went way better than you had planned. You watch as the waiter brings out your dinner. And you tell him, “Um, my food just arrived. But uh, I’m (Y/n).” And he grins, “I’m Hyungwon.”

You exchange socials, and he asks, “After I finish my meal, would you like to go for a ride?” You nod eagerly, and he grins, “Cool. Maybe we can pick up ice cream on the way?” You grin, “I’d love that!” You stand up, and you both smile at each other before you head back to your table.

Your friends immediately ask how it went brimming with excitement. And you tell them in detail with a dreamy sigh as you fill up on your food. The three of them cheer and make a toast to you, and you laugh as you enjoy your meal together. You look over to his table to find him looking back at you. You shyly wave, and he waves back with a smile before you both continue eating.

He comes over once he finishes his food and pays for his meal. Your friends anticipate meeting the guy taking you out on an ice cream date. “Hey, are you ready to go?” You nod, having already paid for your meal. He introduces himself to your friends as you take one last sip of your drink. And your friend to your left goes, “Be careful. They're the only (Y/n) we got, okay?” He grins, “Of course.” You pull your coat on and bid your friends goodbye, and Hyungwon does too. You make your way over to his bike, and he opens the side compartment and hands you a helmet. He fastens his own on, and you get yours on and struggle to click it together, not used to the helmet. And he smiles before moving your hands away and snapping the fasteners together.

You blush, and he tells you to lean with him when he turns, or it could be dangerous. And you nod as he continues, “You don’t have to hold me if you don’t wish. You can hold on to the seat behind you, so you’re just as stable.” And you nod. Already making up the decision that you were going to hold onto him. He gets on first and watches you get on behind him. You nervously wrap your arms around him, and he places his hand on yours, and you give him a thumbs up. You feel him laugh as his hand leaves yours, and you link your hands together as he starts the motorcycle and backs up a bit before looking out onto the street. He revs the engine once, sending shivers down your spine. And you realize you’re doing this with a man you met no less than an hour ago. You hold on to him tighter as he pulls out of the parallel spot and onto the road.

It feels freeing as he speeds down the street, and you can’t help but loosen your grip up some as you get more comfortable with his driving. When he gestures that he’s going to make a left, you lean with him, and two turns later, he’s at the ice cream place. He backs into a spot, turns the ignition off, and waits for you to clamber off it. Your legs feel like jelly as you stand on solid ground, and while you can’t see his grin, you can hear his muffled laugh. He swings his leg over, takes his helmet off, and says, “You get used to it after a while of riding.” You nod, and he smiles, “What flavor do you like?” You smile as you tell him your favorite flavor and how you like your toppings. And he tells you what his favorites are as you both walk to the back of the line.

When you get to the counter, he orders for you both. And you thank him softly, and before you can pull out your card, he’s already inserted his and paid for both. You gasp, and he smirks, “Can’t let my date pay.” You shake your head as you head over to the line of paid ice cream orders waiting to pick their frozen treats up. When you guys receive yours, you find a bench near his bike.

Sitting across from each other again, you say, “Well, this feels familiar.” He nods. And you don’t talk much as you eat your ice cream and when you finish. He asks, “Was that your first time?” You nod, “I always dreamed of riding on one.” He smiles, “I always did too.” You ask, “What made you get into it?” He smiles and thinks back. After a moment, he says, “I remember looking at magazines and seeing how cool it was to ride one. And when I turned eighteen, I finally went after the dream.” You go, “So you’ve been riding since then?” He nods, “On and off for about ten years. It would have been eleven next year.”

You ask another question, “I understand that you’re giving it up, but why, after nearly eleven years, are you giving it up for safety?” He looks down at the table, and you can tell it’s not easy for him to say. But he does anyway, “A friend of mine got severely injured from a bike accident, and he was my riding buddy. It's uh... It would be weird without him riding alongside me.” You tell him how you understand, and he nods, “Maybe, someday, when he’s healed and ready to ride again, I would. Or maybe something else will inspire me to ride again. But for now, I'll enjoy my last month with it and part ways.”

You smile, “You never have to ride again if you don’t wish to. That must have been scary to hear your friend got badly injured in a bike accident.” He nods, “It was, he’s recovering now, thankfully, but it made me realize how much risk I was taking every time I rode. Yeah, I had close encounters before this. Where someone wasn’t paying attention or losing control of my bike and getting minor injuries, but that was in the early days. I expected that stuff then, but he has as much experience as I do. And it made me realize that no matter how skilled you think you are, you can get horribly injured.” You nod, reach over and take his hand in yours, “You’re doing what’s best for you for the time being. And that's what matters the most. Thank you for telling me.” He smiles and squeezes your hand, “I’d like to think so. Thank you for listening.”

He asks if you’d ever pick it up given the opportunity, “I think being a passenger is more fun. Not as much worry to get us there but still all the excitement of riding a motorcycle.” He laughs, “I get that.” You continue asking each other questions, getting to know each other more until the day grows dark and paints the sky with millions of stars. You only realized the change in scenery when you heard the light above you flicker on. And you both look up towards it and see it all, “Wow, it got fairly late.” You whisper to him, and he smiles, “It’s hard to notice anything else when you’re sitting across from me.” You blush, shake your head, and tell him, “I could say the same about you. Your eyes contain the stars. There's no reason to look up when you’re right here.” You see his ears turn red, and you can’t help but smile. He asks, “Would you like to go for a night ride?” You nod, filled with excitement all over again. He pulls you up from your seat, and you both throw out your trash and head over to his motorcycle.

Before you put on your helmets, he tells you he’s taking the highway. And then, after that, to a hillside to see the night sky without any light pollution. You gasp, and he grins, “I thought you'd like to see the real deal.” You eagerly nod. This time successfully putting your helmet on, he gets on with ease after clicking his helmet into place. You wrap your arms around him, and he turns the engine over. After it roars to life, he pulls out of the empty parking lot, and with it all clear, he pulls out and heads to the highway.

If it felt freeing before, it was nothing compared to now as he goes from 35 to 70 mph. You can’t help the little “Woohoo!” you let out as he speeds off. With ease, he merges onto the highway. And even with the chill of the night air and the early spring weather, you can’t help but feel warm. Maybe it was because it was your first time on a motorcycle. But you had a funny feeling it was the guy operating the bike that sent millions of butterflies throughout your stomach.

He passes three exits before finally getting off the highway. When he reaches the top, it’s a red light. He turns his head back towards you and flips his visor up, “How was that?” You flip yours up and grin, “It was electric!” He laughs, and so do you, “I’m glad you’re enjoying it!” And with that, you put your visors down as the light turns green, you both lean right and head to see the night sky in its full glory. It’s not long before he reaches the hillside. He parks it in the lot below. You both get off the bike, and he opens the other compartment and pulls out a blanket. You walk up the hill together, he sets the blanket down, and you both take off your helmets again. And place them on top of the blanket before sitting next to each other.

You smile, “I never thought it’d feel like that.” He looks over at you and asks, “Yeah?” You nod, turning to look at him, “It’s like you’re one with the world but also completely free from it.” He smiles, “Yeah, it’s comforting.” You both look out towards the sky and fall into a comfortable silence. Watching the stars twinkle and dance around the sky as the moon shines brightly above the two of you. While you felt nice before, this felt heavenly. Not only were you with someone you found attractive, but you were also experiencing something completely new. And you couldn't help but feel excited about what this month would bring for you and your life.

He breaks the silence first and goes, “This is my favorite place to go when I’m out for a night ride.” You nod, “It’s beautiful out here.” You two continue staring off in silence, taking in the atmosphere. When your tiredness catches up to you, you yawn. And he asks, “Are you ready to go home?” And you want to say ‘no’ because you want this date to last forever. But you tiredly nod a ‘yes,’ and he smiles, “It’s okay. There’s always next time.” You smile at him and tell him your address. He nods and helps you stand, “I’ll take you the quiet way home.” You agree and end up yawning again, and he chuckles at that. And you smile over at him, take your helmet and help him fold the blanket back up.

You both walk down, and he puts the blanket away. He sees you struggle with your tired movements to fasten your helmet. He smiles, “Let me help you again.” You nod, and he snaps it together, “You know, you’re making me pretty tired with all your yawning. Good thing I'm used to staying up late.” You chuckle as he mounts the bike, and you follow shortly. He turns the engine over as you wrap your arms around his torso. You bury your head further into his leather jacket, growing tired but still following him in his turns. He takes all the backroads. So you’re not disturbed by a loud semi-truck passing you as you rest against him.

He gets there faster than you imagined he would, and he parks in front of your residence. You still feel slightly tired as you unwind your arms around him and slowly get up. Your legs feel like jelly, but it’s more tolerable as you get off this time. He pulls off his helmet as you do. As you go to hand it back, he shakes his head, “No, you keep it.” You gawk at him, and he grins, “You’re the only person I plan on riding with for the rest of the month.” You smile and look down at the pavement before back towards him, “Thank you.” He shrugs, “It’s my pleasure.” He smiles and asks, “Can I walk you to your door?” And you nod, “Sure.”

He brushes your hair behind your ear before placing the gentlest of kisses on your lips. And you barely kiss back before he parts, “Let’s have a longer one next time.” He parts from you and waves goodbye, and you watch him walk away. And the jelly feeling returns all over again, and you shakily open your door, close it, and slide down it. You just experienced the man of your dreams driving you around on a motorcycle, and he kissed you too? You felt like you were evaporating. There was no way this wasn’t a dream. You pinch yourself, “Oh, it was real.”

------

After that night, he'd pick you up every other night for a date. And you couldn’t help but feel excited every time you met up with him. As the end of the month approached, you realized you were right. It wasn't because he was driving a motorcycle. But it was because of him and how he was funny, kind, a little reserved, and handsome from the inside out. You couldn’t wait to see him every day, especially on the weekends when you both could go for further out drives and watch the sunset together. It felt like a high school romance, where you were both so enamored by the other that you couldn’t get enough. Sure, you had partners before him that lit up your world. But nothing could compare to the rush of butterflies you got every time you saw him.

It was no longer a matter of feeling free on a motorcycle, it was a perk, but it didn’t mean anything if it wasn’t with Hyungwon. “You know, it doesn’t feel as lonely anymore.” He whispers to you the night before he trades his motorcycle for a car. “What do you mean?” He smiles, “You make me feel content and safe.” He pauses, “When my buddy could no longer ride. It was like I lost a part of me that made me feel safe riding. But riding with you holding me. It feels like nothing could ever bring me harm.” You look down at your intertwined hands and squeeze your hands together. “I don’t think I could ever ride a motorcycle without you. You make the experience worth having. Without you, it’d just be a bike. It wouldn't hold meaning to me. Whatever you wish to drive, I wish to be along for the ride.” He brings your intertwined hands up and kisses the top of your hand. “I’m glad I have you. I know it’s only been a month since we started dating. But I hope we can last a long time together.” You smile, “Me too.”

------

The first time he picked you up in a car, it felt a little foreign to you both. You laughed as you got in and said, “I guess I don’t need a helmet to see you anymore.” He laughed. And you both grew used to it as the day went on. “I miss being able to hold you while we went somewhere.” He nods, “I miss the feeling too.” And you reach over, and you hold his hand in yours, “But now, we can hold hands and talk.” You laugh. He agrees, “Yeah, that’s a plus.” And just as you thought, as long as it was with Hyungwon, it was an enjoyable ride. And even better cause, now you could exchange kisses at red lights if you wish.

------

That was almost a year ago, and now you were lying in bed beside Hyungwon. You both had settled more into casual less adventurous dates as you guys got more comfortable with one another. As you scroll on your phone, watching silly videos, he asks, “Babe, would you like to go to this car show with me?” You look over at him after thinking about it for a moment. “What kind?” He tells you about this indoor car show with two levels, an assortment of food to choose from, and the small swap meet in the back. You agree getting to walk around with your boyfriend while looking at pretty colored cars sounded like fun. He somehow made everything enjoyable, even if it was something you hadn't tried.

------

That Saturday, you both got up early with the promise of more sleep that afternoon. And head out and stop to buy some coffee and doughnuts before continuing onto the car show. By the time you get to where the entrance toll is, you’ve both finished your doughnuts. When the parking attendant arrives and opens up the entrance, you pay the parking fee, and Hyungwon gets you guys the closest parking space imaginable to the doors.

You finish your coffees as you walk next to each other to the front doors and throw out the cups and trash from the car into the trash can. You pull up your tickets and wait for them to let you in. While there, you both talk about how you want to go about it. The place looked grander than you thought. The ceilings had to be at least sixty feet up, and everywhere you looked, there were cars to look at already. But the entrance was straight ahead, and you say, “Why don’t we tackle the lower level first? Isn’t it supposed to be smaller?” He nods, “Yeah, let’s do that. Then, we’ll go from that end to the entrance?” You agree, “Sounds good.” And when the line starts moving, you both present your tickets, and the person scans them and stamps your hands.

You both walk past the entrance and take in the fact that’s even bigger after the main entrance. “Holy shit.” You whisper, and he laughs. To not lose you in the growing crowd, he takes your hand in his and interlocks them to keep you beside him. You smile, squeeze your fingers in his, and walk down to the lower level. Where music from the 70s plays in the background as you reach the bottom of the escalator. You take into the room it’s tiny compared to upstairs. And only two other people are down here. As you look at each car, you spot a light green 70’ dodge charger with a black stripe running down the side of it. You tell him that this one’s your favorite so far. And he smiles, “Go stand in front of it!” And you grin, and he takes a photo of you standing in front of your favorite car.

You guys take a few more photos of the cars you like before riding the escalator back up and notice that it’s starting to fill with more people than before. You lock your arm in his as you head right and see the humongous monster trucks lining the sides. You see you're allowed to sit in the rims of the large tires, and you drag Hyungwon to take turns taking photos inside the wheel. And a few in front of huge trucks, as well, “That makes me feel small.” He says, and you grin, “Yeah, it’s huge!” He snickers, and you roll your eyes at him. It makes him laugh even harder. “I’m dating the most mature man on the market. Yeah, that’s for sure.” He smirks and tickles your sides for a second, causing you to finally join him in laughter.

You both move onto the rat rod section and admire them for how wicked and rusty they look. “Oh, look at how weirdly cute that green mouse is!” He smiles, “They call ‘em Rat Fink.” You get a picture next to the cutout. And you take a photo of him in front of it as well.

You finish the first four rows of cars before you make it to the front of the car show again. And your stomach growls. He smirks, “Hungry?” You roll your eyes, “Of course I am.” He laughs, and that's when his stomach growls and it's your turn to laugh at him, “Who’s hungry now!” He smiles, “Us!” You both walk to the front of the section and head to the mildly packed food court. And order a pizza slice each and two large pops. You both find a clean table, sit on the opposite side of each other and devour your food.

When you finish your food, you go, “This is nice.” He nods, “I think so too.” You dump your paper plates and napkins and take your unfinished pops along. “What’s your favorite part so far?” You ask, and he says, “I have two so far. The rat rods were really cool to me. And then getting to spend it all with you. What about you?” You tell him, “I like the cars on the lower level. They were more elegant. It might have been the clean look of the room that made me think that, though.” He nods, and you have him look towards you, “But, the best part is spending it with you.” Which makes him blush, and you guys lock hands again and head off to the fifth row.

------

You make it to the swap meet part, and you find some fuzzy dice for three bucks and purchase them, and he finds a hot wheels car that matches his car and buys it. You guys wander through it, not looking for any parts or anything, just seeing if something would catch your eye. You don’t end up finding anything else but are still happy with the purchases you made. You put the dice in your coat pocket, and Hyungwon does the same with his hot wheels car. And you make your way through the middle of the car show, where the lights are brighter than before, showing off all the ones that belong to clubs. Like the mustang club, which has a few convertibles that you’d both love to drive someday and you take photos of them all.

You move on to the corvette club’s section. And it looks like a fenced-in neighborhood. You tell him, “It looks like the cars are rival neighboring houses, unlike the ford club, whose cars looked like they were best buds.” He agrees and points to the cherry apple red one, “Now that one, that’s my favorite.” You gesture for him to stand in front of it. And you take a photo of him with it, and he comes back, “I’d rather see you in front of it.” You shake your head at him before standing in front of it and giving him a little pose before you move on to the next section and throw out your empty cups.

You both continue like that until you reach the motorcycle section, and you see how his eyes light up as he takes in each bike. And instead of taking photos, you video him enjoying himself as he hops from one to one in excitement until he grabs your hand and drags you over to one that looks very familiar. And he goes, “I had a feeling I’d see it again.” And you continue filming him but take photos during it this time.

The current owner comes over, and you turn off your camera, and Hyungwon starts talking about how he used to own it. You grin to yourself as you watch him happily chat about his bike. You don’t pay any attention to what they’re saying as you reminisce on your memories of the cycle. Until you hear Hyungwon go, “If it wasn’t for this bike, I don’t know if I would have met the love of my life.” He gestures towards you, and you wave, and the owner waves back. You blush and you can’t help but feel the same about Hyungwon. But some things are destiny, and this was one of them. You could have met him now when he was just a regular motorist. But getting to be a part of his motorcycle life was something you wouldn’t trade for the world, even if it was short-lived. That first month of going on countless dates and riding around on his motorcycle is what formed your bond. You would have thought you’d grow tired of hanging with the same person nearly every day. But each day with him was an adventure, and you fell more and more each day for him. And you both made the most of that month. You're still falling for him even though supposedly the honeymoon stage of dating is over, and the bike that started it all belongs to someone else.

You smile as you think about how thankful you are for that bike and the man it helped you meet. That's when the owner asks, “Would you like to get on it for old times' sake?” Hyungwon gasps, “You would let me?” They nod, “Of course, I can even take photos of you two if you’d like!” Hyungwon looks at you with a huge grin, and you nod. He gets on first and poses a few times before gesturing for you to join him. You do, and like its muscle memory, you wrap your arms around him and rest your head against his back before lifting your head to take photos with your head on his shoulder. It was wild to feel all over again. Sure, you gave him enough back hugs to fill that craving of holding him like that, but getting to embrace him on his old bike all over again? Hundreds of feelings rush through you. And they’re all joyous, nostalgic, and filled with love. You were so content, and when you had to get off, you almost didn't want to, but you did.

When you both hopped off, “Something was missing.” He whispers, and you whisper back, “Our helmets.” And he grins, “Yeah.” He finishes his conversation and thanks them for taking photos of you two.

You walk through the dirt bike section side by side and ask him, “Do you remember our first date?” He grins, “Of course I do. How could I forget it? The most beautiful person I had ever seen came up to me asking about my motorcycle. And then I got to take them out for ice cream.” You blush, “I got to ride a motorcycle for the first time and go out on a date with you. And unbelievably, when I got home, the man of my dreams kissed me.” He blushes this time and pulls you into him to hug. “You know, I meant what I said. You’re the love of my life, even though we haven’t been together long.” You murmur to him, “You’re the love of my life too. I’m so thankful I got over my nerves that night.” He grins, “I’m glad I rode it that night.” You nod, “Me too.”

You finish looking at the bikes and walk through the custom builds with their crazy electric colors and murals painted all over them. And gasp at the art of each one, and take pictures of each, some with Hyungwon in them and some of the cars themselves. He did the same thing with you, and you both walked over to the DJ bus, where they were putting out the tunes that were playing above. You both stand by the speakers. He twirls you around, and you follow his lead for a few moments before spinning him around too.

You guys laugh as you walk away from the speaker and over to the lifts. Each has a car on top and one underneath it. Two of the four posts are black, and another is red. And one is a different type altogether. It’s blue and yellow and holds the car in place in the middle. Unlike the other three, it's holding the car up by two posts. “That one doesn’t look as safe as the other two.” You whisper, and he shakes his head, “Yeah, I don’t want to walk under it. Like the other three seem fine, but that one,…” You shiver, “If it's not properly secure and we walk under it... We’re crushed, gone, poof.” He gulps, and you both walk around it before walking underneath the red one and looking up at the chassis. While you know the people showing these were selling them, you both didn’t care. While you thought they were neat, there was no practical use for either of you. Considering if you needed to work on the car, you would jack it up and work on the ground together. You head over to the table when the two are distracted by customers. You both reach in and get a lollipop from the candy bowl. “Worth it!” You both cheer after you walk away.

You suck on your lollipops as you come up on the small foreign cars. And you look at them and cheer, “You’re twice the height of this car!” The sleek Ferrari Dino 206 in front of you sits on a rotating stage, and Hyungwon laughs, “I think I’m twice as tall as the majority of the show cars” You shrug, “Yeah, I know, but this one is the most obvious!” Even with it on a stage, he still towered over it. You two do your best to take photos in front of it until a lady comes up to you and asks if you want a picture in front of her car.

And you both eagerly nod, and she grins. She gestures for you both to stand together. And she captures a few with the side of the car and one with the front end. And one when the back was facing both of yours. “Here you go!” You tell her, “You have a lovely car!” And she smiles, “Thanks, it was a gift from my girlfriend! She’s around here somewhere with her light green 70’ charger!” You grin, “Oh gosh, is it the one on the lower level?” She thinks before nodding, “Yeah! That’s where she said it was!” “I took pictures with it, but we didn’t see her.” She nods, “Ah, you two must have gotten here early. Well, then, I’ll let you two be off! I’m going to visit her! Thank you for reminding me where she parked!” You bid her farewell, finish up your suckers, throw them away, and head to the last part of the left side.

You start at the end where the old vans are. “No way! A 23-window Volkswagen bus?!” You gasp, and he tilts his head, “What’s so impressive?” You smile, “These are incredibly rare! I don’t remember why. But it’s super neat that someone has it restored!” And you take photos of the inside and out and continue throughout the section seeing versions of the Mystery Machine and other old-school vans. You head over to the old restored farm trucks that look like they just came off the lot. They look majestic, and you start reaching the end as you notice the kids racing cars on a track.

You both stand and watch them race around the track and decide to root for opposing teams. Your team wins the first round. And you both stand there watching until Hyungwon’s team wins. When his team wins he cheers and places his hand on the small of your back and leads you to the last of this section.

The last three are three mismatched cars. They don’t seem to fit in with one another, but they look like they belong together. You take a moment to read the sign and find out the pearlescent pink 56’ Cadillac is the father’s, and the mother’s is the silvery blue 65’ Thunderbird. And lastly, the sleek black Mustang from 1990 is the son’s car. You grin, “Oh, how cute! It’s a mismatched family!” And he smiles, “It is!” You both take photos of the car family.

Before making your way out of the last section, he goes, “Ready to see them roar their engines?” You nod, already hearing some of the loud revvings from the left. You smirk, “My dad would call this section the ‘show offs’” He laughs and says, “My mom would too!” You keep close together as you walk in, and luckily, the ventilation in the building is good, and you couldn’t smell too much smoke. You watch as some use their hydraulics to lift off the ground. And others show off how loud and fast their engines are. You keep going through and notice mostly V8 engines revving before making it over to the foreign-made cars. And see that they house V12s, “I thought those were legends.” Hyungwon whispers to you. And you can’t help but gasp as you look at the engines and see how huge they are, “You’d think that makes them slower due to the size, but the horsepower...” He gapes at them, “Must be insane to be behind the wheel.”

You gulp, “A V8 engine can get away with you if you press the gas wrong. I couldn’t imagine how fast this thing could...” You start reading about the Ferrari from the board, and it says that in 8.2 seconds, it could get up to 124 mph, and you gasp. You both exchange a look at each other, and he goes, “Holy fuck.” And that’s when the owner turns the car over, and you hear its roar. And it sends shivers up your spines, and Hyungwon whispers, “Yeah, that’s power.” The owner smiles, “It’s a fast one, but don’t get them wrong, I usually use it for grocery shopping with the kiddos! They do very well. You just got to know how to control it!” That eases both of your stomachs, and you thank them for the information, and they tell you it’s no problem. After killing the ignition, they go back to sitting beside it.

You guys finish up this last section and head out into the hall. Hyungwon tells you, “I have to say the motorcycles and this section are certainly two of my favorites.” You nod, “I agree, but I still like the basement the most. It looks so clean!” He nods, “That was nice too!” You kiss his cheek, “I’m glad I got to enjoy this with you.” He nods, “Yeah, we learned a bit, and we also went down memory lane.” You smile, “Yeah, maybe one year we can have a car or motorcycle here. Together.” He smiles and kisses your forehead, “I’d love to do that with you.”

You look at the food section, and he asks, “Want anything before we leave?” You shrug and shake your head, “Not really, you?” He shakes his head, “Me neither.” You both make your way back out the entrance. Once inside his car, he says, “I’ve wanted to do this since we saw my old bike.” Before pulling you in for a kiss, you can’t help but smile as you kiss him back. When you pull away, “You could have kissed me in there.” He shrugs, “I like sharing these moments with only you. Everyone knows we’re together, but only you and I get to know what it’s like.” You’re both red as he finishes up his sentence, and you pull him in for another kiss.

When you pull away you reach into your pocket and pull out the fuzzy dice. You put it over the visor and you both giggle. “It’s cute” he says, and he reaches into his pocket and hands you the hot wheels car. “I wanted you to have it so whenever I’m away, you’ll always have my car.” You thank him, and you both giggle at the other realizing you both had bought each other something. “I thought you were buying the dice for your car.” You shake your head, “I have that little tree air freshener. I thought you were buying the hot wheels car for yourself.” You both shake your heads at each other. He kisses you one last time before he pulls out of the parking lot and makes his way out, you hold his hand over the shifter. “I can’t believe it’s only been about a year since we’ve been together.” He agrees and brings your hand to his lips, “I know it’s hard to make promises to an ever-changing world, but I hope one thing remains consistent. Me and you, for a very long time.” You smile, bring his hand to your lips and kiss it before whispering, “For a very long time.”

You guys go to a restaurant seeing it’s late enough for an early dinner. And you walk in, noticing the date on the calendar, and ask him, “What’s today?” He looks over at you and shrugs before looking at the calendar too. You watch as it dawns on him with a smile on your face, “How did we forget?” You shrug, “Either way. We spent today together. That’s what anniversaries are for.” He smiles, “Yeah. Do you want to get ice cream after this?” You grin, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

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