#Thunder's story hits me the most personally though

[bonefall]

as someone who has not read DOTC (and treasures my sanity too much to read it) i cannot fathom how people read clear sky as a hero, hes even written with the descriptions the erins love to give their villains! prowling, sneaking up behind people to say ominous lines, standing partially in darkness, having an utterly pathetic lackey kissing his ass at all times, even the territory expansion thing was like, explicitly bad when tigerstar did it in arc 1. i'm convinced these people havent actually read this arc??

It's because, I CANNOT make this up, he says sorry after he kills 3 people and causes the death of like a dozen at this big Murder Party he throws. A bunch of ghosts say he was just scared, Gray Wing swoons that he simply needs to learn how to delegate, and then Clear Sky says "haha woops :P"

After that, everyone who ever says, "Hey, I don't trust the physically abusive dictator or his intentions" is treated like an unreasonable idiot, a simple personality conflict, or an active villain. Thunder literally gets revictimized and undergoes emotional abuse a SECOND time and Gray Wing gets a scene screaming at him to get the fuck over it.

These WOULD be interesting characters if this was intentional, if the writers had gotten their heads out of Gray Wing's brother-loving ass to realize that Clear Sky is not redeemable. Gray is denying reality and letting people get hurt so he can cling to a beloved memory, and it doesn't matter if it was accurate then, because he's KILLING PEOPLE NOW.

But the arc is bullheaded in its simplicity: Clear Sky was not born bad, so he is not fundamentally bad. Unlike Slash and One Eye, evil through and through.

It's painful. Incredibly painful arc.

[scuttling]

Frayed Ends

Fandom: Supernatural Pairings: Dean Winchester/Female Reader Word Count: 1,527 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Unprotected sex, Mentions of impending death Summary: It's the end of the world again; where better to find comfort than Dean Winchester's arms? A/N: Sometimes Dean's just too pretty to ignore.

Keep reading below or link to AO3!

Staring out the window of the battered old motel, looking into the darkening sky, you try to count the number of life-or-death situations you’ve been in in the last year. You’ve been mortally wounded in battle, only to be healed by angelic figures that don’t quite live up to expectations; possessed by demons who are surprisingly more forthcoming than their winged counterparts; ripped to shreds by creatures with claws and fangs, things that are both as terrifying as the stories say and so much more complicated than most people know. 

A loud crack of thunder booms, lightning splits the sky, and a warm hand presses firmly against the middle of your back. None of those things make you jump, not anymore.

“So,” Dean begins, reaching out to hand you a tumbler of whiskey—the good stuff, a high-dollar, top-shelf single malt. “Last night on Earth.” 

You take the glass from him and peer into into it, through the rich brown liquid, before sipping the liquor, letting it burn smoothly, slowly; it seems like an oxymoron, but precisely what you need now, in the eleventh hour, when it feels like the world is about to fall to ashes at your feet. Again.

“That line work for you often?” you ask, half-teasing, and you down the rest of the alcohol. A shrug of his shoulders and a cocked half-smile tells you all you need to know. "Right, of course. Apocalyptic situation plus a rugged, handsome man who did his very best to prevent our impending doom... I imagine it isn't ever hard for you to get laid, but it's gotta be damn near impossible to be turned down under conditions like these." 

He empties his own glass with a smack of his lips, leaning his shoulder against the wall beside you, and smiles gently. It’s different from his usual grin, because it changes the look of his eyes, touching only the corners and making it appear as though it would physically hurt him to keep it up much longer.

He’s not being a creep, hitting on you when you’re vulnerable—you know because you know him, have been traveling the road off and on with him and Sam and occasionally Cas for over a year now. This is about desperation, a vain attempt to cling to something as your doomsday clock ticks down to zero, to connect with another person one more time before you reach the proverbial end of the road.

"You tell me,” he finally says, voice as rough and broken as you’d expect. You look away from his face abruptly, this open, emotional version of the man you’ve been kicking ass and trading sarcastic quips with making your stomach turn. He’s a good guy, no doubt about that, and he doesn’t deserve the life he’s been saddled with, or all the pain and misery that comes with it. He lived for his family, Sam, and now they are apart—no more angel teleportation, no more gas stations, no more cell service—and the end is so near you can see it in the darkening swirl of his green eyes, the tightness of his jaw.  

Apparently the booze hasn’t slowed down your motor functions any, because you’re turning to press a hand to his chest before the thought has fully formed in your mind. 

"I'd be honored, Dean Winchester," you breathe, pushing a hand softly through his hair; he inhales, lips parted and eyes flicking curiously over your face, before leaning down for a careful, gentle kiss. 

Both of his arms wrap around you, embracing you warmly, and you slip your tongue into his mouth, giving yourself over to his strong arms and stubble without a second thought. It isn’t exactly a hardship, sleeping with the brave, honorable, beautiful hunter, and if it makes him feel even a fraction better about the whole dying bloody thing, how can you refuse? 

"Thank you." It’s a sandpaper whisper pressed lightly against your lips, and one of his hands moves to cradle your head as the kiss deepens. He tastes bittersweet, a blend of mint and whiskey, and is far more tender than you would have imagined, taking soft sips of your bottom lip between toe-curling, passionate kisses. You push the light-colored flannel off of his shoulders, pleased with the muted groan he expels against your neck, and wrap your arms around his back like you can’t get close enough, can’t get enough of him. 

He lifts you easily, of course, like you’re as weightless as you’re starting to feel, brings you to the bed and covers your body with his, hands ghosting over your throat and your face, down your arms, over your chest, your sides. The kisses grow rougher, needier, deeper on both your parts, and when you pull the soft, worn t-shirt over his head you press your fingertips into his skin, drag him closer, body begging for more. 

“Dean… yes,” you sigh as he nips at your neck, your earlobe, his teeth sharp but careful. You move your hands over his stomach, his chest, the back of his head, pulling him to your mouth for more slow, wet kisses like you’ll find the solution to all of your problems inside him—or maybe that you want him to find it inside you. It’s a heady, dizzy feeling, and he feels it too, moaning into the kiss when you shift up to your knees, pulling your own t-shirt over your head. 

“I need you,” he rasps, looking over your body, with all of its scars and bruises, like it’s a map of all the places you’ve been together. You unhook your bra, let it fall away, and then unbuckle his belt, help him strip down before removing the rest of your clothes too. 

You feel a flush of heat when you’re both bare, not nervousness or shyness, but something you don’t have a name for, not yet; you probably never will, now so close to the end, so you just bask in the feeling that he’s all yours, that in your last moments you will be as connected as two people can be. That even if you die in vain, you won’t be dying alone. 

You’d ask about protection right about now, but don’t see the point, considering the circumstances; instead, you climb into his lap and weave your fingers into his hair, kiss him so thoroughly he has to know you’re doing this because you want to and not just because he’d asked. Your nails graze over his shoulders, into his hair, murmur his name, and his soft lips become hard and unyielding as he kisses you breathless, like he wants it to mean something.

He lays you back against the bed, still made up from the day, and you let him, pulling your knees up so he can settle in close to you, so you can feel his body tense beneath your hands and he presses into you, fills you completely. “Fuck,” he grinds out, and his mouth finds yours again, his kisses softer, sweeter as he starts to move. 

For the first time, you’re glad it’s pretty much just the two of you left in this desolate town; neither of you are quiet as you fuck, gasping and moaning and whining puffs of breath into the air between you. The sounds of your sex echo in the room—the groan of the bed frame, the sticky wetness soaking your thighs, Dean’s mouth as it runs about your beauty and your pussy and how heavenly you feel. 

The room is so hot, your skin slick with sweat, his too, and he takes your hands in his and presses them up over your head, against the bed, holding you down with the force of his body as you both chase the feeling that you’re close to something big.

“Oh god, more, Dean, please,” you plead, hitching your legs up higher, tightening them around him as he thrusts quicker, deep and smooth. “You’re so good, so good, Dean.” 

“You have to come for me. You have–” He lifts one of his hands away from your pinned wrists and strokes your cheek with it, brushing his thumb over your lips. His eyes are lighter now, honeyed, but still flooded with emotion as he combines tenderness with roughness and brings you so close to climax you can feel it pulsing beneath your skin. “You’re glowing,” he chokes out before his orgasm rips through him, strong enough to make him shake above you, and he leans in for a kiss that turns into your own climax, something powerful that makes you ache down to your bones. 

You whimper against his shoulder as he slows, and he releases your arms, pulls them around him so you embrace as you pant through it together. You feel both completely spent and filled with buzzing energy, and when he looks down at you his expression is… awed. There’s no way to mistake that face for anything else. 

“Holy shit. I think that worked,” he says, almost astonished, and then his phone vibrates on the bedside table and you turn simultaneously to look over at the glowing screen.

Sam.

A/N: Didn't mean for this fic to mean anything or to lead to anything more, but it kind of did, so who knows?

[pockykierra]

Hi! I'm ex-Mormon, too, and I wanna hear your story!

Fellow ex-mormon!! I'm glad to tell my story of leaving the church, though I'd also love to hear yours! If you're comfortable : )

(Buckle in, because I am, at heart, a writer, and that doesn't stop with personal stories, haha.)

I left the church at 15. Though, truthfully, I had started having doubts around 12. Doubts which plagued me, and made me feel guilt every time I stepped into a church.

But what really set my leaving into motion was a girls camp, when I was 14.

For any never-mormons out there, girls camp is where the girls in your church or your ward (ward being the specific time you go to church) spend a week of the summer camping, hiking, singing worship songs, doing general church things, etc. It is one of the only parts of being Mormon that I look back on fondly, because most of it was just spending a week bonding with girls your age.

Something else to note for this story - between the ages of 13 and 14 I had surgeries on both my feet (one and then the other) due to a tight achilles tendon that was pulling the bones of my feet in weird directions. So during this particular girls camp, I had a boot on my right leg, and I had just barely gotten clearance to be able to go. My doctor was hesitant, before ultimately saying I would be fine if I took it easy - but not before warning me that if I didn't, and I tore my achilles back open, it would take double the time to heal.

With that, I headed to girls camp. A 5 day retreat up in the mountains between Utah and Idaho, where I unfortunately had to sit out a lot of the activities as they involved hiking, swimming, or running. Even still, I was glad to be there.

It was the end of the 3rd day when it happened.

I remember it had been cloudy all day, and the girls camp leaders warned there could be a storm. Still, as the sun started to set, they set us out on a spiritual walk (which, for non-mormons, is something they sometimes do where you walk down a trail, and along the way there will be church leaders who will talk about scripture verses or tell stories from the Bible. I've also heard it called a "god walk" or a "walk with God" before).

As we walked slowly down the trail, the sun now completely hidden behind the mountains, the wind started to pick up, and in the distance, thunder boomed. And yet, the leaders were determined to finish the walk. Even in the dark we kept going, even as a storm picked up around us.

What happened next, I remember vividly. All us girls were huddled together, walking in unison toward the end goal. And then, two things happened, one after another - a loud crack came from above us, which drew our attention toward the mountain beside the trail we were walking, and then a flash of lightning, which illuminated a large birch tree, falling, heading right for our group.

After that, everything is a bit of a blur. I remember being shoved by one of the leaders. There was shouting and screaming as everyone darted in opposite directions. I remember stumbling forward from the shove and hitting the ground, only to look back and see the tree landing right where I had been moments earlier. And then I remember, as the shock wore off, a sharp pain going through my recently operated on leg.

Everyone was yelling, but in the midst of it all, someone checked on me, and I told them I had hurt my leg. A group of the girls picked me up, and we all ran back to our cabins. It was a mess. Everyone was crying, my leg was in pain, the church leaders were trying to calm everyone down.

Luckily, no one ended up beneath the tree.

But in the midst of it all, one of the church leaders got everyone's attention. She said, through her tears, that we were so incredibly fortunate to have experienced what we just did. That what we had just gone through was a divine act. She said God had saved us from the tree. He had reached his hand out for us, and we needed to pray and thank him.

I remember, in that moment, my guilt turning to anger. I closed my eyes as if to pray with everyone, but inside, I was screaming. I remember thinking - why didn't God stop the tree falling at all? Why did I have to get hurt? Why did I now have to suffer the consequences? My leg ached, and I knew for sure that I would now be wearing that boot for far longer than I was supposed to.

I had so many feelings, but I didn't voice them. Not yet. My mom ended up having to come get me, and I ended up needing another surgery to fix what had been broken, adding to my recovery time, and costing my parents more money.

To add insult to injury, the next day, after I was gone, the group of girls who experienced this traumatic event with me all gathered around the fallen tree, and the church leaders took a picture of them. Three weeks later, they gave us all a copy of the photo, framed, and marked with the title "The Miracle of the Tree".

I was frustrated, and that picture only made it worse. But I kept trying. I kept going to church, hoping that it would soothe my anger. I tried for another year, until at 15, I approached the same church leader who initiated the prayer that night, and told her of my feelings. I expected her to have sympathy, and that she would tell me something that would put me on the right track.

Instead, she looked at me as if I was disturbed, and told me I need to go home and have a long prayer, and think about what I just said. That if I doubted God after this obvious miracle, there were some things I had to think hard about.

It was almost a relief, in a way. Her dismissal of my concerns cemented what had been lingering in my mind for years. I nodded, and even though there was still an hour of church left, I walked out. And that was the last time I went to a church service.

Thank you for reading <3

[megarywrites]

the writeblr garden’s spooky season prompts

day 1: antagonist(s)

so, for Seafoam, there are four major antagonists, of which, I'd consider two to be main antagonists. But I’ll only talk about the two who are the most obvious, because I don’t want to give away major spoilers. as is typical for me, this got long, so the meat of it is under the cut lol

— Sosta Diakos

He is not one of the main antagonists, but he is the first one we’re introduced to. He is a Droma, which is like if a priest was made the mayor/lord of a village and the Droma of Psari, the village that Thala grew up in. We’re first introduced to him after Thala and her mother find out that her father was lost at sea, and he’s there to arrange the funeral with Thala’s mother, but he has ulterior motives.

He is, unfortunately, inspired by someone I know irl who ended up being a groomer, so…that’s the energy he brings to the plot. He’s known Thala since she was born, as he was a close family friend and the same age as her late father, and at the funeral, he announces that they will be getting married (his explanation for this is that he appealed on their behalf to the gods for how he could help them in their time of need and the gods told him that he would marry her).

Her mother, however, is not here for it, and takes her place on the wedding day. Below is a snippet from the aftermath of that.

As I stood, my head turned at the scrape of quickened footsteps on the other side of the hedge. Kolette, probably, to check on Ma. Or Zeno, to see me. Rolling my eyes, I started to cross the yard, but then the door banged open inside. Alarm coursed through me, and, spurred on by Ma’s cry of shock, I dumped the logs as I tore back inside. One of the logs almost crushed my toes, and splinters were clinging to my mourning garments and hair as I tumbled into the kitchen.  It was the Droma. His hand was raised, the other clutching Ma’s throat, as he pulled back to strike her across the face. The clap of it thundered through the house.  All thought abandoned me.  No plan sprang to mind as I lunged around the counter to pull him off of her. My nails dug into his arm as I tried to hold him back from hitting her again. She clutched at her face, staring up at the seething Droma towering over her. When she raised his other hand, panic erupted within me. I was too small compared to him to shove him one way or the other, let alone throw him out of the house like a misbehaving dog, so I did the only thing I could think of to stop him.  I pulled back as hard as I could on his arm, deterring him momentarily until I bent to bite down on his arm. Warm blood pooled in my mouth, but I stayed clamped down on him until he shook me off of him. I staggered back, mouth smarting, and glared at him warily as his livid focus shifted from Ma to me, then down to his bleeding arm.  He held it up to me, my gaze darting down to the jagged crimson trickles cutting through his pale olive skin before I looked back up at him. “Have you taken leave of all of your senses?”  Instead of answering, I spat his blood out onto the floor and wiped my lips clean of the stuff without breaking eye contact with him. 

— Geros Kryiaku

He is one of the main antagonists of both books, and for the majority of the story, he is the one at the forefront of the story that Thala is fighting against (in a manner of speaking) and who I'm expecting everyone who reads this to consider him the Big Bad, up until the final plot twist lol

He is the Diamo, which is like if the roles of the pope and a king were mashed up into one person. We are first introduced to him as a character at what everyone thought was Sosta and Thala's wedding, as he is the one who officiates the rare weddings of Dromas.

No one in my life has the dishonor of directly inspiring him, but him and all of his bullshit is based off of pastors of bigger churches in the denomination of Baptist that I grew up in. Story-wise, though, one of the first things that he did when he took on the mantle of the Diamo was outlaw the production of potions, because relying on magic of any kind shows a lack of faith in the gods and their power.

Ironically for him, I've just discovered in my 2nd draft that he can perform magic himself, albeit unknowingly. In certain rituals and ceremonies, he does some chants in the old tongue, which is what the actual gods used to shape the realm. What he thinks is happening, however, is that the gods themselves are possessing him so that he can be their mouthpiece and a conduit for their powers. Below is a snippet from the chapter I'm writing rn where we see him unknowingly using magic.

The Diamo was still in the center of the aisle, his arms open, his palms up, and his hands raised to the ceiling. Even though the sunlight no longer streamed through the windows high above us, he was still bathed in its light. Or, rather, enveloped in it. For as he began to lower his hands, misty tendrils of the golden light curled around him, drifting up and away like steam from a cauldron. And, when he opened what had been his eyes, a blinding, golden light had replaced them. Could he even see?  He began to speak, though with a voice that was not his own. I could hear it still, hidden deep within the recesses of a voice orotund enough to rattle the windows that was intermingled with a host of sharp, disjointed whispers tangling together. “Ye in this congregation with faith enough to dry the sea, come hither, and be healed.” I would have stood and joined the others filing out of their benches to the center aisle, driven by an overwhelming compulsion to obey his words, but Solera anticipated my impulse. She threw her arm across my middle, keeping me from standing properly and shaking her head when I threw her a confused glance.

[kafus]

what's your personal story with lumineon? i'm really happy to see empoleon, cradily, and fidough here since they're some of my own favorites! - 🦢

ogh ty for asking, i forget if i've shared this before but even if i have i'm doing it again LOL

even though FRLG was my first pokemon game, for a variety of reasons, i consider sinnoh/gen 4 to be my true childhood pokemon games. despite this, my childhood memory is extremely spotty (i am almost 24 years old + i have a severe dissociative disorder, i don't remember shit ever LOL) and so my memories of actually playing gen 4 are very few and far between. but lumineon is involved in two of the ones i still manage to hold onto

in pokemon diamond, i actually completed the natdex as a child, which was an arduous process that took me a Really long time, i don't know how long. i unfortunately no longer have this save file. gen 4 was obviously the dawn of wifi features and i always wanted to complete my dex in FRLG but i couldn't because i didn't have the hardware/games to trade with myself and i didn't have friends (in fact i was bullied pretty severely for liking pokemon, i had to change schools) so when i could use the GTS and trade with people online i got VERY excited about dex completion, and just like, interacting with people. i managed the task with a mix of breeding eevees and evolving them into eeveelutions as trading chips on the GTS and using my mom's yahoo account without her permission to ask for trades from people on fucking Yahoo Answers lol (sorry mom SDJKSD)

i don't actually remember doing most of this, i was just able to put it back together with context clues from my pearl file that survived and things i am just vaguely aware happened but don't actually have Sensory Memory of. BUT what i do remember is that one night i realized i was finally almost done and somehow the finneon line is the one line of pokemon i never got. they were the Final Dex Entries i needed. i did everything in a really weird order and wasn't prioritizing the sinnoh regional dex lol

so i went and caught a finneon and grinded it to evolve it into lumineon. i think the reason i remember this is because i was so close to being done, i was way more impatient with grinding than usual, and then just like. the sheer pride and relief i felt when that finneon evolved and then scrolling through the complete dex list is like nothing i had ever felt before gonna be honest. high point of my childhood

even back then i formed an attachment to lumineon in this moment and i used that lumineon for other stuff in sinnoh. i don't remember how i found this out, but one of the first competitive doubles strategies i ever learned was that thunder always hits in rain, and i knew that my lumineon had rain dance through level-up and i had a luxray with thunder, and i was Obsessed with pokemon battle revolution, so i have a brief memory of spamming thunder with my luxray after setting up the rain with lumineon and being really proud of myself for that (even though there's way more optimal ways to do this that i'm aware of now LOL, cut me some slack i was 8 years old)

this is a really long explanation cause i wanted to really emphasize WHY this meant so much to me as a kid but tldr lumineon was the last remaining pokemon left for me to get the dex entry for in sinnoh as a kid and it was a culmination of a lot of months of work and then i went on to use that lumineon in battles and yeah shoutout to lumineon

[braveclementine]

Chapter 19/20

Warnings: None (anyone can read this story)

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. I do not condone any copying of this.

𝓣𝓗𝓔 men called Loki and Thor were coming today.

I was curled up in the corner with a stuffed animal, cuddling it. It was white like me, with several different black spots on it. Bucky called it a panda bear. I thought it just looked like an oreo with eyes.

It didn't taste like an oreo though.

Not that I was supposed to know what oreos tasted like anyways.

But it was Sams fault for leaving them out.

Even though half of them freaked and took me down to Bruce to see if I was going to die from chocolate poisoning.

But I didn't.

So I think I should be allowed to eat more.

Bruce wasn't here at the moment, not wanting to greet Loki when he came in. Apparently Loki had done bad things to Bruce, so they weren't on good terms.

Actually, none of them seemed to be on good terms with this Loki person. Wanda and Vision had taken Billy and Tommy away too, far across the country and once Pepper found out, she said she wasn't coming back to Stark Tower with Morgan until Loki was gone.

So I assumed that Loki was a bad person.

Bucky and Steve sat together at the table while they waited. They were in a heated discussion about cake. I liked cake, especially with vanilla icing.

I wasn't allowed to eat it though.

Tony on the other hand was sitting next to me, petting me. He seemed extremely stressed about the whole Loki situation so I gave him lots of kisses to try and cheer him up. It seemed to work for the most part.

Nat on the other hand, looked utterly bored. She was sitting up on the table, cleaning the dirt from under her nails with a blade.

Road was standing near Tony, arms crossed over his chest. He wasn't talking to anyone, just staring out the window.

Meanwhile, Fury was on the far other side of the room with a woman named Maria. I hissed at him whenever he came within ten feet of me.

He never came within ten feet of me.

Sam and Clint were having a loud conversation about pop tarts, and whether we had enough in the Tower for Thor. I wondered what a pop tart was and if I could eat it.

I was hungry.

"Can I have food?" I asked Tony, rolling over onto my back.

Tony smiled, rubbing my belly. "You're adorable Blizzard."

"No, I'm hungry." I whined, rolling back onto my stomach to bat at his legs. "Give me food!"

Suddenly, there was a loud crash of loud noise and I looked up just in time to see a roaring rainbow rushing down from the sky.

Interesting.

But the loud noise also made me run under the table and slink down.

"Aww, come here Blizz." Tony said softly, reaching under the table to pull me out. "It's just thunder." He looked up at Road, "Did he do it on the lawn again?"

"Nope, he used the helipad like you asked him to." Road replied, turning away from the window.

It didn't take long for two men to walk through the doors. Everyone straightened up, standing if they had been sitting- including Tony who left me on the floor by his feet.

I pounced back on the oreo, rolling around with it, before I settled down to get a good look at the men.

One had brown, spiky hair, looking like he was trying to copy that one vampires hairdo from that one TV show. . . Elijah, I think? He was very buff, with large arms and two different coloured eyes. He had a larger axe hammer thing in one hand and was wearing silver armor with a red cape.

He grinned widely, and said, "Hello again my friends!"

"Hello Thor." Nat said sweetly. "Welcome back."

I turned my attention to the second man, who looked extremely uncomfortable. He had long black hair that was curly. His eyes were blue and shimmery. His face was pale and smooth, much unlike his brothers, which had the trimmings of a beard. He was tall and thin, and any muscles he might have were hidden under his green clothing.

It was as though I had been hit with a lightning bolt.

I got to my feet, slowly padding over to where the man in green- Loki- was standing.

"Blizzard come here." Tony called quickly, but I didn't listen.

I padded straight up to the God of Mischief, and batted his shoes.

"Pick me up." I demanded.

Loki bent down, picking me up in his hands.

We stared at each other curiously before his eyes shifted down to my paws. Specifically the back paw where my only black mark was. His eyes widened, staring back at me.

"Y/N. . . " He whispered so softly I could barely hear him so I knew the others could not.

"Daddy." I cried.

He set me back down on the floor, squatting down with me. I put my paws on his knee. "Help me!"

"Blizzard, come here girl." Bucky pleaded. He sounded nervous and I wondered why. Why were they so scared of him?

I remembered everything now. My entire life. Every moment.

Loki stood back up and turned to Thor, "Give me your cloak."

Thor raised an eyebrow- I remembered him too now- but swung the red cloak over to Loki.

Loki put a hand over me and I could feel the magic tingling in my bones. I could feel it changing me, helping me grow, until I was no longer a kitten, but a human.

"What the fuck?" Bucky, Steve, and Tony all asked together.

I sat there with my E/C eyes still on my father. My long H/C hair flowed down my shoulders, covering my entire back and my father bent down, wrapping my naked body in my Uncle's cloak.

I could feel the strange tattoos on my arms tingling and everything now made sense. If I looked down, I could see the crown shaped birthmark on my hip. The one that had looked almost like a black tattoo on my paw.

"Holy shit." Bucky cursed again.

I turned to face them, keeping close to my father, afraid of their reactions.

Bucky's face was the one I saw first. His blue eyes were wide, his face slack with shock. He had taken a few steps towards me from when I had padded over to my father as a kitten. Steve was next, still frozen where he had been before, his blue eyes full of suspicion and uncertainty.

Tony looked completely taken aback, having sat down in a chair, a hand covering his mouth as he rested his elbow on his leg.

"Can someone just explain what happened?" Sam finally asked.

Loki glared at all of them, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. "This is Y/N Lokidottir. And if the name doesn't give it away, she is my daughter."

"I didn't know you had a daughter." Nat said. "Thor never told us-"

"She went missing a long time ago." Thor interrupted. He gave me a loving glance. "Before New York, before all of that. Before you even knew of us."

"Then. . . how. . . what. . ." Tony seemed absolutely shocked.

"I was kidnapped during one of the invasions." I whispered. Bucky and Steve both jerked upon hearing my voice, their hands flying to where the last soulmate tattoo was. "There was a witch with them, who turned me into a cat and hid me in her pocket. When Odin banished her to Midgard, I was taken with her. I stayed with her for many years but then there was a problem. She erased my memories and the next thing I remember is ending up in Mr. Peters house."

"Which Witch?" Thor asked.

"I think her name was Agatha." I said softly.

"Well." Fury drawled from the back of the room. "I would hate to say I told you so. . . who am I kidding? I told you so."

"I'm not a spy." I said, but I couldn't even be angry about it.

"Maybe not." Fury said while Loki's arms tightened around me, "But I did say that any cat with supernatural powers was not really a cat."

I gave a nod of assent. Perhaps that was true.

"Well!" My father sounded more cheerful than before. "I suppose my er- visit will have to be cut short then." He looked at my Uncle Thor. "Mother will want to see her especially."

"Yes, of course!" Thor said boisterously. He was just as loud as I remembered, but I was only glad that I was back with my family again."

"Wait!" Bucky said hurriedly. "She can't leave yet!"

My heart twisted painfully.

"Why not?" Loki asked angrily.

"She's our soulmate, you can't just take her away from us." Steve said.

"Ah." Loki said with distaste. "She will not be joining your soulmate stuff. In-"

"You can't make that decision for her."

"He's not." Thor said with obvious regret. "It is our law. Gods cannot be soulmates with humans. Our lifespans far out live yours and it would only lead to pain and suffering on Y/Ns part when you die in twenty or thirty or forty years and she lives for a thousand or two more."

"It is against our law to do so." Loki added. "Doing so would banish her from Asgard for life."

"We have waited for her for forever." Bucky said. I think he was trying to sound angry, but all he did was sound hurt and that hurt me too.

"It will be fine." Loki spat. "You do not need her. You already have two mewling quim on the side already."

Bucky's mouth dropped like he had been slapped, while Steve sat down in his chair, looking mortified. Both of them realizing a lot of things at that moment. Tony glared furiously at the two of them, and then glared at Nat who was blushing just slightly.

"Father." I whispered. That wasn't fair. Now that I had my memories, I had taken a fair share of lovers into my bed as well. It was technically against the law in Asgard to shag outside of marriage, but no one listened to it. It had become a useless law.

"No Y/N. I cannot see you get hurt like that."

I took a deep breath and said, "Steve and Bucky are also immortal Father. It is different with them."

Thor and Loki looked at each other.

"We will have to speak to our father." Thor said, sounding troubled. "Perhaps it would be safer for you to stay here at the moment."

Loki looked disappointed, but nodded as well.

"Someone get her some clothes." He snapped at the others, before he and Thor drew me away into a corner.

"Are you sure this is what you want sweetheart?" Loki asked softly.

"Yes dad." I whispered. "I have found that I already love them. I think it would hurt more to not be with them. And they really are immortal so that should make a difference in the law."

"I will speak to Odin about it." Loki said, sounding troubled as well by this idea. "Hopefully mother will help persuade as well. I love you."

"I love you too." I mumbled, hugging him tightly. He kissed the top of my head.

"Here Blizz- Y/N." Sam said, holding out some clothes.

"Thanks birdbrain." I said softly.

He grinned, "You've been hanging around Tony to much."

Loki put up screens to block the others out while he and Thor turned so that I could get dressed. It did take me a moment to figure out how to wear clothes, and when I was done, I recognized one of Tony's AC/DC shirts and Bucky's Slytherin detailed sweatpants.

Loki pursed his lips when he saw the clothing. "I will bring you proper Asgardian clothing when Thor and I return."

I hugged Thor too and it took a while for the both of them to actually leave, as we did not want to part, so soon after finding each other again.

I suddenly felt rather self conscious when I was left with them by myself.

"Can we talk alone?" Bucky asked awkwardly.

I nodded and the three of us left the room. 

⬅️➡️

[savage-rhi]

Oh! I've got another one “you’re so cute when you’re half asleep.” Ha, from Ardyn, who else. I'm so in love with characters sharing cute little moments in the morning...like.. It's probably one of my favorite tropes

@sillylittlevulpine Hey, me too! Those kind of moments really hit the feels, don't they? Here ya go and happy Ardyn day!

Ardyn sighed through his nose while his eyes adjusted to the first rays of the sun coming over the large mountains of Niflheim. He could feel the morning air gently flow downwind, casting its cold touch upon his skin that was exposed. The dewy smell that permeated the woods was relaxing, and nearly coaxed Ardyn into going back to sleep. Had it not been for the rough texture of the tree his back was upon, he would've done just that.

A shiver went down Ardyn's spine as his tired gaze looked around. Now that his consciousness was more aroused, he was at first startled as to why he had been slumbering outside. That's when he registered the weight that was on his chest, making his breath uneven. His amber eyes glanced downward, watching Y/N sleep against his chest, their body curled up underneath his large coat. 

Memories from the night began to play in Ardyn’s head. He remembered the scourge flaring inside of his chest back at his chambers in Gralea. How his body felt so hot to the touch that he needed to step outside. The million souls and their stories that dwelled within Ardyn clamored for attention, piling upon each other like grains of sand attempting to make a hill. The scourge cursed him with a sensory overload that would’ve made most men crumble into ash. 

Though Ardyn remained standing, his reality was bending in and out of time. One moment, he  was at his residence. He blinked. Now he was on the streets of the capitol, barely a soul strode by him. Ardyn blinked. He was before a crowd of thousands, strung up before the public while from afar a high priest of the gods proclaimed him sinful. He blinked. Ardyn was running. He felt a terrible wave of panic slam into his nerves. His heart thundered in his chest, and he blinked again, and again. Each time a new set of characters and worlds greeted him. Little frightened Ardyn, but when the scourge gained enough momentum to try and break free from its prison, the darkness came with vengeance; trying to psych him out to where he’d give up control. 

That’s when at some point in his manic running, did Ardyn bump into Y/N, his personal help. The only person outside of Verstael and the emperor that truly knew what he was, that knew he couldn’t afford to be seen in public daemonified. Y/N dropped whatever errand they were on, and spent half the night trying to wrangle him. Ardyn recalled it had been an tense affair both physically and emotionally. He was surprised that he didn’t murder them. 

Somehow both of them stumbled into the woods along Niflheim’s outer rim. Ardyn’s body finally gave out, and he fell to his knees underneath the tree where he would eventually sleep. He screamed and yelled. His hands ripping grass apart and his fingers dug into the ground while he pounded the earth. Rage covered the deep sadness that was lurking closeby as another onslaught of memories from 2,000 years ago plummeted into his skull. He couldn’t handle it. He couldn’t see the future or the past, but a mess of everything and nothing. 

Ardyn snarled obscenities and threats at Y/N when they caught up to him. He attempted to shove them away, and push Y/N back when they ventured too close. Nonetheless, they persisted approaching him. Ardyn found himself squirming under Y/N’s touch, trying to rip away from them.  Exhausted pleads of ‘no’ burst from his mouth, until he succumbed and fell against Y/N. 

Carefully, Y/N dragged Ardyn to the base of the large tree and propped him up. They didn’t say a word to him while Ardyn closed his eyes and attempted to take back control of the scourge. The silence lasted for hours, until Y/N asked if he was alright after his breathing became even once again. From there, conversations about the mundane took place. Neither of them wanting to address the elephant that had just stampeded and destroyed the room. 

There was a mutual understanding that spoke through both Ardyn’s and Y/N’s eyes while they acknowledged the other; a wordless promise that both of them would be safe. The conversation evolved into musings, and then into intimate ponderings. Ardyn wasn’t sure when, but at some point Y/N complained about being cold and he took off his coat and handed it over. The rest was history. 

In the present, Ardyn leaned his head against Y/N’s while his right hand tiredly stroked through their hair. He normally wasn’t one to indulge in touch, finding the sentimentality to be a nuisance especially when he couldn’t afford connecting with anybody due to his fate. However, Ardyn felt he owed Y/N this acknowledgement; letting them know he valued what they had done but without saying a word. 

Ardyn felt Y/N begin to stir in their sleep. Their head tilted upward, eyes squinting open to barely make out his complexion.

“Hello.” Y/N croaked. 

“Good morning.”  A smile tugged Ardyn’s lips though his eyes remained neutral and wearied. 

“Heavy night last night?” Y/N teased.

“It was quite eventful. I think I’ve had my share of fun for a while. Wouldn’t you agree?” 

“Hmm hmm,” Y/N nodded then made a face at him. “I’m never chasing you down again if you have a panic attack.” 

Ardyn snorted, knowing his experience was anything but that. He was humored nevertheless. He let out a content sigh while his amber eyes combed over Y/N’s face. A mischievous smirk played his lips. 

“That’s a shame, because I’ve discovered something about you that I admire.” 

“What’s that?” Y/N yawned. 

“You’re so cute when you’re half asleep.” 

“I’m getting up now.” 

“You do that.” Ardyn grinned, chuckling while Y/N’s expression remained unimpressed with his sincere comment. He loved pressing their buttons, seeing where he could get them to crack. As Y/N’s body left his, Ardyn couldn’t help but furrow his brows. He’d never admit it aloud but he was already missing the contact. 

“Ardyn?”

“Hm?” 

Y/N, now sitting criss cross beside him glanced over his face. “Are you okay?” 

“No,” Ardyn murmured. He nervously glanced between Y/N and his chest before leaning forward and away from the tree. He closed his eyes briefly, trying to keep himself grounded. 

“But I will be,” Ardyn turned his head to Y/N. “And you?” 

A contemplative look crossed Y/N’s features then they smiled, shaking their head as a playful huff left them. “I’m going to need a lot of therapy after last night if I’m being honest.” 

“I don’t mind footing the bill on your behalf,” Ardyn mused. His eyes lit up hearing Y/N laugh. “It’s not everyday one contends with the Adagium and his woes. You didn’t sign up for that when you came under my charge.” 

Y/N smiled sadly at his latter remark. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad I found you before it got worse.” 

“I could’ve killed you.” 

“But you didn’t.” 

Ardyn’s eyes locked with Y/N’s then. Like last night, there was the wordless promise: that he was safe with them as much as they were safe with him. The concern and care Y/N had shown throughout this ordeal reminded Ardyn of someone he once knew. A person who went above and beyond for others to their own detriment. Such contemplation was sure to set a dangerous precidence, but Ardyn was too tired to care. 

“What are you looking at?” Y/N asked curiously. Their gaze shyly averting every so often as Ardyn’s eyes never left them. 

“Myself,” Ardyn said softly. “Once upon a time…” 

If you like my work and feel generous, feel free to donate to my ko-fi account or my cash app account!

Cash App: $JayRex1463

[emjayart]

Love Between Fairy and Devil

i know this Drama was aired back in 2022, but one thing about me is that i'd rather wait until the drama is completely aired than to wait in agony for the next episode to come and translated (that thing is no joke); i've done watching this show last month and boy was i cursed after this, i saw the cover and title on Netflix and i was like "eeehhh probably just a typical Cdrama, nothing special about it" but then i started to have doubts about my own judgement and decided to watch. oh boy i was wrong.

First, let me give my respect to the screen writers who spent 3 YEARS in writing the scripts, their efforts and hard work paid nicely <3, so does for all the visual effects team, choreograph team, etc for bringing this drama came to life so beautifully.

You can smell the strong chemistry between two leads. great casts!! standing ovation for Wang He Di for his performance!!!

ever since i started to fell in love with Cdrama i have never saw "what great power looks like" you know what i mean? like Ye Hua in TMOPB he was considered the brightest and all that, but the show did not give me any chance to actually witness his power at it's peak, same case with my beloved Hanguan Jun (though i still love him), Wei Ying (almost at a peak if it's not for him to deal with the power biting his butt back).

DongFang QingCang (dfqc) showed up with style, arrogance, domineering, invincible, confidence, that air that makes everybody even the heavenly emperor tucked their tails between their legs when he arrived at that Waterfall Hall to safe xiao lanhua, he summoned lightning and darken the sky, his voice like thunder; even when he was fighting with ChangHeng and his buddy Rong Hao. that HELLFIRE is hella sexy!! I NEVER BEEN THAT HYPED when i see a villain is about to destroy, the music, the visual effect, choreograph for DFQC is superb!! one swing of that man sends ChangHeng the God of War got beaten up like a dough, he was left unscathed, no drop of blood, stand so proudly in front of his opponents, WORTHY OF HIS TITLE, RESPECT AND FEARED. "the only person who can defeat DongFang QingCang is himself" he can easily kill xiao lanhua, but he didn't, yet he opened to the new experience.

i want to talk a lot about this complex character and his development throughout the journey which thumbs up to the Production House to be able to put his whole development as a character fantastically though i hate why you guys left us like that for the last 6 episodes, you can you that 4 more episodes to give us more!!

the are soooooo many scenes that i love, so many comedy in this drama, body swap, but the peak of the comedy is in Human Realm, when ChangHeng & DongFang QingCang became sworn brothers lmao, when DongFang QingCang crawled through dog hole (I'm dead) and so much much.

but the one that hit me the most is when DongFang QingCang mourned for xiao LanHua, guys let me tell you, i watch that episode around 10 pm and watch i think one more episode before i decided i can't take it anymore, i was bawling for hours i'm not even kidding, the fact the DongFang QingCang can't accept her death so he would rather stay in his dream if it means to be with her broke me into pieces. no Cdrama has ever done that to me, not even Ten Miles of Peach Blossoms (sorry Ye Hua and Bai Qian), i had that emotional breakdown for almost a week, i lost control over my emotional because of this show lol that i'm afraid to go out fearing i would have a breakdown in public. the effect are too strong on my emotions.

this drama is 11 out of 10!

as i said before, the only downside of the drama is how they did the story for the last 2 or 3 episode, too rushed, i wanted to see Goddess Xi Yun's devotion on nurturing DongFang QingCang's crescent moon spirit! i was so frustrated on how they end things, i want Season 2 of this drama mainly because i wanna see how great GLAZED FIRE is and i want to see that stupid heavenly emperor put to justice because honestly he does not deserved the crown!!!! never.

let's discuss in the comment on what you like and dislike and if i miss-mention something :)

[moorheadthanyoucanhandle]

DICED HAM

Opening this weekend:

Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves--This movie includes more than one dungeon, and more than one dragon. Thus the title is truthful, at any rate.

Once or twice back in college--twice, if memory serves--I played Dungeons & Dragons with some of my fellow theater students. It was sort of fun, as I recall. The first time, an obnoxious kid we didn't know named Dan--not a theatre major--had somehow been invited, who seemed to think himself a great ladies' man. He named his warrior character "Dahn" and spent most of the evening drinking a lot and hitting on the young women there. When we played again a week or so later, Dan was not invited, and the Dungeon Master mildly informed us that "Dahn disagreed with something that ate him."

This was in the early '80s.  I recount this story only to make it clear how limited my familiarity is with the classic role-playing fantasy game developed in the mid-'70s and now owned by Wizards of the Coast (a subsidiary of Hasbro). I've never played D&D or any similar game since, though I have friends and family who are enthusiasts. Even at the time, I didn't really grasp how the dice rolls and "damage points" and other such jargon determined the flow of the game; I just enjoyed the socializing and improvisational creativity.

So for all I know, this new movie version, directed by Jonathan Goldstein and John Francis Daley from a script they concocted with Michael Gilio and Chris McKay, is a rich and faithful fleshing-out of tropes from the game. Or, for all I know, it's just a sword-and-sorcery fantasy with the franchise's name hung on it. I can't say, nor need any general audience member care; either way, it's highly entertaining.

Chris Pine is a lute-strumming troubadour living in a Ren-Faire-ish realm of racial and gender diversity. A washed-up member of a heroic order, he leads a band of thieves including a warrior (Michelle Rodriguez); a sorcerer (Justice Smith) of low self-esteem and questionable prowess, and a horned and tailed elfin person (Sophia Lillis) who can shape-shift into various other creatures, including a brawny monster owl.

They're on a quest to obtain some sort of magical thingy that will allow them to enter a magic vault from which they want to steal some other magical thingy. This will allow the troubadour to resurrect his murdered wife. Along the way the band is helped by a noble but humorlessly literal paladin (Regé-Jean Page from Bridgerton).

This synopsis does the movie little justice, however. D&DHAT isn't heavy. Despite all the thundering hordes and clanking armor and clashing steel and roiling brimstone and mystical spells and hideous ogres and such, the flavor is less like a Tolkien epic than like a Hope-Crosby Road comedy. The guiding joke is that the characters, notwithstanding their fairy tale attire, speak and interact in a contemporary American idiom, like people on a sitcom. There's an extended schtick, involving questioning of the dead, that's almost worthy of the Marx Brothers.

Your own tastes will determine if this approach makes the movie a blast or an outrage. For me, it not only made it less ponderous, but more emotionally satisfying. The actors generate an ensemble playfulness and a sense of affection. Pine retains his raffish agreeability, and he and Rodriguez are particularly convincing as longtime, patiently enduring friends.

But once again, the best reason to see the film, even if this sort of fantasy isn't your usual tankard of mead, is Hugh Grant. He plays the rotten mountebank who betrayed Pine and friends back in the day. Since then, with the alliance of a sinister sorceress (Daisy Head), this fraud has ascended to the throne of the kingdom; it's his vault the gang wants to loot, and he's also, intolerably, been serving as the surrogate father to Pine's daughter (Chloe Coleman).

Between this movie, the recent Operation Fortune, and 2017's Paddington 2, Grant has quite a line these days in cheery, good-natured comic villains. The scenes he steals here are the most honorable theft in the movie.

[existentialmagazine]

Review: Carrying Torches share striking new alternative-rock tune ‘Good in Blue’, a journey of love, loss and the rawness of life itself

The Chicago-based alt-rockers Carrying Torches have been on quite the roll this year, dropping epic singles like ‘All Or Nothing’ for fans to pick apart as they explore genres like synth wave, alternative, Americana, and rock all in one. Born from late-night jam sessions, the group now return with an incredible new single ‘Good in Blue’ , encapsulating their own unique alternative-rock blend and personal lyrics to match.

It’s hard not to feel an aching in your chest from pressing play on ‘Good in Blue’ , with Carrying Torches heavy-hitting words immediately setting quite the poignant scene: ‘I saw fireworks at your funeral, out on the horizon.’ Pushed along by steady thumping drums, a loose electric guitar riff and charismatic leading vocals, there’s a warmth and brightness soaked into the crevices of a heart-wrenching experience, like a glowing ball of hope that’s often hard to see at your darkest of points. With these fireworks off in the distance becoming a literal and metaphorical light in that dark, Carrying Torches explore that slither of love and appreciation even through grief, making it as clear as ever that this track is unafraid to be vulnerable: ‘I took them as comfort, reminding me of how you lived.’ Gritty guitar and clean vocals dance between one another throughout the verse, an easy-going soundscape that falls somewhere between emotionally striking and defiantly catchy in one as the sound and words battle one another.

The chorus is the boldest part of it all though, blaring through vibrant guitar strums, thunderous drums and absolutely beaming vocals that feel at their most euphoric yet as they sing ‘I feel so good in blue, it’s just so good next to you, I’ve got blood in my veins, and time on my hands.’ Painting a picture of a love story captured in time, ‘Good in Blue’ embraces all of life’s wide-spanning emotions into a track that thrives on being completely raw, navigating a life filled with both loss and love entwined. Encapsulating themes of longing and introspection, the lyrics reflect on cherished memories, singing ‘on our first date you were the one’ while life’s trials stood in the way of what could’ve been. Everything about it is rather bittersweet, delivering a sound that’s colourful and dominant even when relentless blows disrupt through it all.

Keep listening to ‘Good in Blue’ for yourself here, it’ll be hard to stop listening to the incredible anthem that Carrying Torches have penned here.

Written by: Tatiana Whybrow

Photo Credits: Unknown

// This coverage was supported and created via Musosoup, #SustainableCurator.

[fluideli123]

[Original Ask Post]

🦈Tell us the name of your/one of your WIP(s)

While my inspiration has been low these past few years (2021 doesn't feel like 2-3 years ago) and I've been bouncing through different fandoms, there are SO many WIPs that have sprouted up, half formed. Some are short stories such as Alberto (Luca) learning the violin and working through his trauma through the art of music, fics about Macaque and MK (Lego Monkie Kid) and how their relationship is the most profound. To long fics of diving into Sonic Prime's world-building through deeper lore and shit gets explained across multiverses as to why the franchise's multiverses are as they are. Not to mention the original stories such as The Fox and Eagle.

But one I'd like to share is my one and only (started) fic idea for the video-game series God Of War that is placed between GOW 2018 and GOW: Ragnarök. It would follow the side quest of the Ring Of Andvari that would follow how Sindri and Atreus lost the ring between games, as mentioned during a battle with a Soul Eater in Vanaheim within GOW: Ragnarök.

The title is "All That is Gold Does not Glitter" which is not only a connection to my other obsession's poem (Lord of the Rings) but also to a saying that means in one way or another that "something may not be as good or as valuable as it first appears." Which ties into why Sindri and Atreus lose the ring, what causes these events to unfold in the first place and how they connect to how Atreus had found the ring in GOW 2018.

I obviously am not a complex writer who researches lore and connects things a lot, what do you mean./s

Anyway, just because I can, I'll share what I wrote last October. Enjoy!

When Atreus had planned all of this from a small, fresh idea that bloomed in the back of his mind. He had never once planned on battling a soul eater in the middle of the night while a dwarf shouts weak encouragement from somewhere hidden between realms. Because no matter how much he adores Sindri to death-- and he really, really does --now was not the time to have the dwarf nauseous from nerves while Atreus concentrates on trying not to get incarcerated.

In fact, Sindri was not the best person to be at his side when swiftly dodging a cascade of fire shards with only enough time to leap behind a pillar to protect him from the following searing heat of a beam of pure, concentrated flame.

Even though he'd get a glare and a lecture of a lifetime from his father, he was definitely missing his combat support.

The ring shouts heatedly at him from its place in Atreus' small pack, and it's enough for the kid to growl and shoot a few arrows into the soul eater's opened chest to release the frustration into something useful. "I know, I know, now shut up! You got me into this!"

"Well, technically-"

"Not now, Sindri!"

"Yup, got it!"

Atreus rolls away from the pillar and past the crumbling walls, fire licking at his heels before pressing his back firmly against the chilled, chiseled wall. The Soul Eater's thundering footsteps shake the world around him as it stalks closer, trying to set eyes on the boy's soul once more.

"Why did I ever trust you?" The boy bites into the frosty night air, the heat of battle keeping him from shivering his furs right off as a particularly nasty bellow of air hits him, sending snowflakes clashing onto his bare face and hands like needles.

The ring doesn't answer, its aura darkening in anger and guilt. Atreus can't bring himself to care all too much as he sucks in grounding breaths. Allowing the sharp shards of freezing Fimbulwinter air to soothe his racing heart.

It was supposed to be simple.

This was all supposed to be for his father. A father who would now be sorely disappointed in him.

Atreus hits the back of his head against the wall, squeezing his eyes shut.

⁀➷ 

It wasn't entirely unusual for Atreus to spend his early morning slowly digging through old gear and equipment from his and his father's journey to Jotunheim. But it wasn't entirely something he did often, either. In fact, it was something he hadn't done at all in the way he was now until now. 

Was it unusual for Atreus to be doing it in general? No, not really, if you think about all the times he has looked through their things for the usual training session and favor from Brok and Sindri. But was it weird he was looking through it for nostalgia's sake after months and months of never having it cross his mind? Yeah, probably. 

But, while his father worked outside and Mimir sat at his designated table reading through tales, Atreus went on to indulge himself anyway. 

It still felt so weird that it had been so long since he and his father sat atop that mountain, raised Mother's ashes into the sky, watched her settle against the peaks of her land, and danced across the remains of her people and the place she once called home. And from that day onward, they found new people to take place in their lives, new voices, new stories, new everything. 

He didn't know how Father felt about it, but it was like Mother brought them all together. She wanted more people for Atreus to learn from and grow from. It felt like their family had grown, and his mother had planned all of it, planned it all for them, so they wouldn't be lonely. Because really, Atreus definitely didn't feel lonely anymore. Not in the way he once was.

The bag that once held his mother's ashes was still rough against his fingers, the fibers well taken care of, the rope barely frayed as the young archer ran the pads of his fingers across it.

It feels as though the first memory he should recall would be his father collecting her ashes in it, even the sight of it hanging off his hip as they made their way across familiar grounds to enter ones he could have never dreamed of. 

But, no, the first memory to appear leaves him smiling, fondness, pride, and determination warming him from the inside out as he remembers the moment his father held her out to him, entrusting her with him, charging him with so much more without a single word despite everything he'd done to leave his father angry and disappointed. It was a step in the right direction, one Atreus takes strength from. 

His father trusts him, and he will make sure that he continues to make him proud, just as much as Atreus tries to make his mother proud with everything he is.

Atreus brings the tattered bag to his forehead, closing his eyes and muttering quiet phrases, a greeting, and a promise before settling it carefully out of the way as he dips his arm deep into the fits of armor and ruins. 

He looks through each thing carefully, soaking in the reminders and memories, careful not to lose the ruins under his bed and between cracks of wood where some of the smallest could disappear when the tips of his fingers find something peculiar. 

Atreus stretches to reach for it between his father's beautifully crafted furs and metal, tongue sticking out as he fiddles with the thing, exclaiming in victory once he's finally grabbed it. 

"What'd you find laddy?" 

Atreus beams down at the little ring in the palm of his hand, shifting it around with a finger as he leans back to answer Mimir, "Nothing! Just looking through father's things!"

"Your father's things, eh? Sure he wants you to go snoopin'?" 

"Oh, don't worry about it, Mimir. I'm just looking!"

"Sure sounds like it."

Atreus can't help but roll his eyes at Mimir's sarcasm, grinning at the sound of the head's quiet chuckle. 

Before the boy can continue, the door opens, and the young tween quickly tosses the ruins back into the chest, closing it shut as he stuffs the ring into his pack, whirling around to meet his father's amber eyes.

"Let me guess, training?"

A grunt is Atreus' only response, and it's the only one he needs as he plucks his bow and quiver from off the wall and rushes toward the direction of deer. 

As Atreus leads the way through the freezing woods, Kratos' gaze is a sturdy reminder. 

He will make him proud.

⁀➷

“Mimir, can you tell me Andveri's story again?” Atreus settles against the wall facing the head, crossing his arms and lightly kicking at the ground.

”Of course laddy,“ The head looks towards the young boy. “But why the sudden interest?”

(Atreus tries to get the ring to talk to him again, gets Sindri in on it, they go on an adventure that the ring takes them, one Atreus wants to go through to get something for his father, it goes unexpectedly and with the ring getting lost)

Kratos quickens his pace down the forest's worn down trail to the obstacle in their path, skillfully lifting the boulder up and around them without dropping their hunt as Atreus continues to jog forward, scanning the frosty forest area, glancing back over to Mimir when the coast is clear.

The former-counciler let's out a curious hum and a amused snort, “Well, I'd be glad to laddy, but I must wonder, why the sudden ask? You know your father wants you focused and I'm sure I can scrounge up a better story you haven't heard yet, little brother.”

Atreus pointedly looks at the visiable runics worn upon his father's armor and weaponry. ”Well, ever since we helped Brok find his hammer and Father's kept him for when he's useful, I've been wondering about him?“ Atreus falls back at his father's side as they crawl under a freshly fallen collection of trees and rock.

”You've been thinkin' about 'im for that long?“

”Well, no, not really,“ Kratos glances Atreus' way, and the boy doesn't miss the warning in his eyes as they leave the tunnel and lightly dash for the snowy banks. ”I was just looking through my things and found my old armor from when we went on that adventure for mom, and than I remembered him.“

”Discuss this later,” Kratos grunts, sending another look his son's way. Atreus nods, sighing.

”Yes, father.“

[millennialdemon]

More thoughts on episode 1 of 18if

First of all, why didn't anyone tell me nearly every episode has a different director?

And moreover, that each one puts their own spin on the visuals, to the point that numerous episodes look like they are from a completely different anime?

That is so based... I love anthologies...

It makes me kind of excited to keep watching it, even with the gripes I have! Speaking of the gripes, a re-review (I did first see premiere this when it aired in 2017) of episode 1 in 2022:

The sound design, in particular the overuse of the too-quiet soundtrack, is really quite bad and very distracting for it. The most egregious example in this premiere occurs when the Witch of Thunder decides to lop off Haruto's arm with a sword when he dismisses her threats because "It's all a dream anyway". In this scene you would expect the whimsical light jazz music that had been playing throughout the conversation to stop dead, signalling: "Oh, this isn't a fun and whimsical scenario anymore, and this witch can hurt me and wants to kill me."

But no, the music doesn't even pause, nor does it change tone or volume at all. It flattens the scene and its aimlessness makes it awkward to watch, as if it is a mistake. I would even say the music should have at least changed before violence even occurred -- when the Witch of Thunder starts to get angry at Haruto earlier in the conversation, it feels noticeably off that nothing in the sound design shifts at all. I don't know what the intention was -- if perhaps it was meant to emulate a dream-like floatiness like many of the visual elements this episode? -- but all the droning consistency of the soundtrack ends up doing is remove all tension from the scenes it is used in.

And I'm not even a sound design girly, so if I'm noticing it, it must be pretty bad!

But back to the dream-like floatiness of the visual elements -- I can see there was a genuine attempt to do some interesting things with a dream setting, direction-wise. Lots of strange shot compositions and split-screens are used and they are admittedly pretty stylish, though I wouldn't say they do much to convey the setting beyond just being a bit abstract. Rather, the feeling of being in a dream is better captured by the almost constantly moving camera. It slowly spins around the characters during conversations, moves back and fourth in space, and changes angles on a whim, often in lieu of just using a cut to get to what looks like a new shot. It must have taken a lot of effort to animate so many of these scenes, and I suppose the actual drawings were sacrificed to accomplish it.

(However, I happily prefer this option -- simpler designs rendered a bit poorly for the sake of animating more difficult shots -- to the over-designed, wildly over-produced, and literally nausea-inducing scenes from the recent works of studio GoHands.)

But despite the efforts put into emulating a dream-like quality, the premiere of 18if never quite hits the mark and only ever really manages to feel a bit stilted and awkward. Which isn't the worst thing I suppose -- at least to me, the person who enjoyed the BangDream anime for its awkwardness.

So the most damning element to me of this premiere is one I have written about years ago -- the main plot. Kind of a big one. Kind of unavoidable as I continue this series. TL;DR: It's not great to watch a boy save girls from their own overwhelming emotions, either by talking them off of the edge with some common sense, or outright concluding their stories for them when they are too compromised to do it themselves.

Though I have only seen 2 episodes (the 2nd of which I liked so much that I literally still think about it 5 years after having seen it!), and so I am willing to hold out hope that maybe there will be a few break-out episodes where this isn't the case, and Haruto's presence will be incidental in the awakening of some of the witches. So despite my reservations about the main concept of the anime thus far, I am still interested in seeing what happens in future episodes, particularly now that I am getting into ones by other directors!

[new-sandrafilter]

Technikart Magazine interview translation with Timothee Chalamet and Taylor Russell for 'Bones and All' (x)

At 26, Timothée Chalamet is on top of the world. He is shooting in the most exciting films of the moment, he is making the social networks go wild and redefining the codes of masculinity. In the midst of promoting the poisonous and sublime Bones and All, which won two awards in Venice, we met him in London, along with the revelation of the film, Taylor Russell.

Warner's publicist and agents had warned us, Timothée Chalamet is incredibly cool, an ultra-talented, simple and modest young man. A star! While the shooting of the sequel to Dune is taking place between Budapest, Abu Dhabi, Jordan and Italy, Timothée is in London for a promo day for Bones and all, where it is about crazy love and... cannibals, a black diamond signed by Luca Guadagnino, that Timothée produced.

In Luca Guadagnino's new film, Timothée Chalamet plays an "Eater", a cannibal who devours his victims completely, "bones and all"... For his role, he has created a rebel redneck look, with an improbable mullet haircut, dyed hair and ripped jeans. With the revelation Taylor Russell, he crosses the desert landscapes of the heart of rural America, in search of prey and especially love.

In London, the interview takes place in the company of the Canadian Taylor Russell, discovered in the series Falling Skies, then in the nanar Escape Game. When he sees me with my Marvin Gaye T-shirt, Timothy lets out a thunderous "Oh man, what a cool T-shirt!" and starts singing at the top of his lungs "What's going ooooon...". Here we go!

"I MADE MY CHARACTER WEAKER, VULNERABLE, LESS CONFIDENT, MUCH LESS ALPHA MALE." - TIMOTHÉE

More than a cannibal movie, can we think of Bones and all as a crazy love story?

Timothée : It seems obvious to me that the two main characters live from day to day, they break the law, they are wildly in love, they have no money: so yes, it looks like crazy love. It's even beyond crazy, passionate love; they are safe with each other, they trust each other completely, they support each other, they are real, it's pure love, very mature.

How does your generation look at crazy love, love without judgment? And do you think there is a demand among young viewers for this kind of stories?

Taylor: This generation is really smart and they want sincere, authentic, original work.

Is it hard to play the crazy love?

Taylor: Timmy knows Luca well from Call Me By Your Name, as well as the producers. They are like family, and I was the newcomer. Timmy made me feel comfortable right away, like I was part of this great family. It's very important on a shoot to feel accepted, loved. Timmy was a rock for me. He is a generous actor, but he is also and above all a generous person, with a very big heart. Qualities that you don't find all the time, I think...

The film takes place in the 1980s, in a world without Internet, but it speaks of today's youth, isolated, abused, abandoned or mistreated by adults, of youth in search of care, kindness and love.

Timothée: I hadn't thought of that, but it's interesting. I'll speak for myself. The Covid epidemic has hit our generation hard, it has isolated it socially. But there's also global warming, global conflicts, inflation, nutrition problems... I feel like young people are watching this old world die. They are isolated. As you said, Bones and all captures the essence of all of this, even though it is strangely a cannibal film. I really agree with you, there is something absolutely contemporary in this quest of the two characters in the 1980s, in this urgency to live despite everything.

How was the shooting?

Taylor: We shot in Ohio, Kentucky, Nebraska... We shot for 48 days, in April 2021.

Do you like horror movies?

Timothée: To be perfectly honest, ....

The interview can be read here (it's in French)

[waitimcomingtoo]

This is Me Trying

Part one and two

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader enemies to lovers!

Synopsis: it’s time for secrets to come out

Masterlist

“How’s the project coming along?” You asked as you laid your head in Peter’s lap. You were in his room, like you always were, a month after you officially started dating.

“Just about done.” He answered you. “I made the periods bigger so we’d hit the maximum page length.”

“Ooo.” You snickered. “What a bad boy.”

“I’m really not.” He chuckled and began to play with your hair. “This is the most incriminating thing I’ve done all year.”

“I wouldn’t mind if you were.” You shrugged. “I like bad boys.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah. Remember that guy that like died in the war but then came back to life as an assassin? From a few years ago?” You asked as you looked up at him.

“The Winter Soldier?” Peter wondered.

“Yeah. Him.” You nodded. “I wanted to fuck him.”

The bluntness in your tone knocked the wind out of Peter’s chest. Nothing could have prepared him for what you had just said. You were too busy laughing to notice how shaken he was.

“W-what?” He stuttered as you sat up.

“I don’t know.” You laughed. “Like, I knew he was a murderer but I was into it. I wanted to spread him on a cracker.”

Peter pouted and folded his arms, his jealously getting the better of him.

“He’s not as strong as he looks, you know.” Peter got defensive. “And his hair is super greasy. It’s like a freaking slip and slide up there.”

“Hm. That’s a problem for me. I’m more into curls.” You smiled as you ran your fingers through his hair. “And how would you know how strong he is?”

Peter gulped, realizing he had said a little too much. Spider-Man knew how strong Bucky was, but you didn’t know about that.

“I don’t.” He lied. “I’m just assuming.”

“You don’t think he’s strong with that metal arm?” You asked as you pulled up a picture of him on your phone. “His biceps are like the size of my head.”

“They’re only bigger than mine because he’s older. A lot older.” Peter insisted. “Like, he’s geriatric.”

“Oh my God. Look at him!” You ignored Peter’s comment and showed him a picture of Bucky. “I want to suck on his thighs.”

“Ew.” Peter whined. “He’s like 400 years old.”

“So what you’re telling me is he’s experienced.” You raised your eyebrows suggestively. Peter let out an angry huff, jealousy bubbling in his stomach.

“Gross.” He groaned. “Why are you saying this in front of me? I’m your boyfriend. Not him.”

“I’m just kidding, Pete.” You chuckled and cupped his chin. “Plus, he’s basically a fictional character to us. It’s not like he’s some guy we know.”

Peter looked to the side, hating when he had to lie to you. Bucky was someone he knew personally, but you didn’t know that.

“Hm.” Peter mumbled quietly. You noticed Peter’s expression and climbed into lab, straddling his hips.

“Hey, I’m sorry.” You cupped his face and rubbed your nose against his. “I didn’t mean to make you all pouty. I’m only kidding about the Summer Soldier.”

“Winter Soldier.” Peter halfheartedly corrected you.

“Winter Soldier. See?” You shrugged. “I don’t even know his name.”

“You still said you would fuck him, though.” Peter pouted as he looked down at his lap.

“I said I wanted to. Past tense.” You corrected. “I had crush on him when I was like 14. I don’t even think of him or his thunder thighs anymore.”

“I have a hard time believing that.” Peter grumbled. You could tell he was still jealous so you pulled him in for a long kiss.

“It’s true. I only have eyes for you, Pete.” You whispered once you pulled away. He cracked a smile before rolling his eyes at you.

“Right.” He said sarcastically. “Just me and the murderer you want in your pants.”

“Come on.” You whined when he didn’t let up. “Can you even blame me? He works with the Avengers. You have to admit, that’s hot.”

Peter stopped pouting when he heard this. He may not be able to be the kind of bad boy you liked, but he was an Avenger.

“You really think that’s hot?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Duh.” You stated. “Don’t you like the Avengers?”

“Most of them.” He nodded. “But not Bucky.”

“Who’s Bucky?” You asked.

“Sorry.” He shook his head. “The Winter Soldier.”

“Why did you call him Bucky?” You laughed in confusion. You had no idea who James “Bucky” Barnes was. Unlike Peter, who sat across from him at dinner a week before.

“That’s his nickname.” Peter explained without thinking it through.

“I didn’t realize you and the Winter Soldier were on a nickname basis.” You teased. “What does he call you?”

“He doesn’t really talk to me.” Peter shrugged. “He’s really quiet, except when he’s with Cap.”

You sat back suddenly, looking at Peter like he was crazy. He was forgetting who his audience was and how you knew nothing of his double life.

“What?” Peter asked when he saw your face.

“Bucky? Cap?” You repeated his words. “Who are these people? What the hell are you talking about?”

“Bucky goes by, well, Bucky. And most of us call Steve, Cap.” Peter explained. “Well, except for Mr. Stark. He calls him Blondie most of the time.”

“So you’re hanging out with the avengers now?” You raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“Well, yeah, when when I’m…” Peter trailed off when he realized his mistake.

“When you’re what?” You asked. Peter knew he backed himself into a corner here. He didn’t want to lie to you anymore, so he figured it was time to tell you the truth. Not that he has much of a choice.

“I have something to tell you.” He stated. “It’s kinda important.”

“Okay.” You nodded and held his hand. “What’s up?”

“Don’t freak out, okay?” He prefaced. “It’s not as crazy as it sounds.”

“Oh.” You gasped. “Are you gay?”

“What? No.” Peter answered immediately. “Why was that your first guess?”

“Well my first guess was steroids but I know how you feel about that.” You mumbled out of the corner of your mouth.

“It’s neither of those things. I’ve Uh…I’ve been bitten.” Peter began, not sure how else to phrase it. You smiled a little, thinking he was flirting.

“So have I.” You mumbled as you brought his hand to your lips to kiss the back of it.

“No. Not like that.” He waved his hand and your face fell. “I mean, yes like that. But that’s not what I’m talking about right now.”

“Then what is it, Peter?”

“They do a lot of experimental science at Oscorp. Genetic mutations, stuff like that.” He explained, beating around the bush.

“Why are we talking about Oscorp?” You wondered.

“I broke into one of the labs freshman year.” He explained. “I was trying to figure out some equation my father was working on.”

“Okay.” You said skeptically.

“I ended up in this weird room with all these modified spiders and one bit me. Right here.” He showed you his knuckles, which had a tiny scar on the center. You took his hand and examined the scar closer.

“What is this leading to?”

“After I was bitten, I could do all these things I couldn’t do before.” He told you. “I could climb walls, lift buses, and you know, my biceps grew.”

“You’re telling me a spider bite gave you muscles?”

“I’m telling you that I’m Spider-Man.” He said finally, making the room go silent. It was his first time telling a person on purpose, so it meant a lot to him. Your expression changed from skeptical to serious as you dropped his hand. You reached forward slowly and touched his face, staring at him like you were seeing him for the first time.

“Oh my God.” You whispered. “Peter, you’re…”

He put his hand over yours when you trailed off, anticipating the end of your sentence. Suddenly, you pushed his face away with a smirk.

“Full of shit.” You finished. “You are so full of shit. You almost had me.”

“I’m not.” Peter insisted. “I am Spiderman. I swear.”

“Peter. Be serious.” You whined as you got off his bed. “I thought you had something real to tell me.”

“I am being serious.” He told you. “This is the truth.”

“This is the truth.” You mimicked his voiced, like you used to. “Why would I believe that? Because you called the Fall Fighter by his nickname? Please.”

Peter was starting to grow frustrated. He always feared someone would find out his secret and he’s have to beg them not to tell. He never imagined he’d be sitting in front of his girlfriend, trying to convince her he was Spiderman.

“I know Bucky’s nickname because I know him.” Peter explained as he got off his bed. “It’s the same reason I know how strong he isn’t. He tried to punch me once and I caught his fist before he could. And that thing is made of vibranium. My hand hurt for a week.”

“I don’t get it.” You shrugged. “I don’t get the joke.”

“It’s not a joke. I really am Spiderman.” He insisted. “Mr. Stark recruited me back in 2016 to help him fight Captain America at an airport in Germany.”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “And I killed Princess Diana. I killed her and framed John-“

Peter grabbed your face and kissed you to shut you up, not wanting to hear your jokes when he was trying to tell you the biggest secret of his life.

“Can you shut up for a second?” He asked sweetly when he pulled away. “I’m trying to talk to you about something important. And we both know who really killed her.”

“No you’re not.” You snorted. “You’re trying to mess with me.”

“I’m telling you the truth.” He whined. “Why won’t you believe me?”

“Because you’re saying ridiculous things.” You chuckled as you walked over to your phone, which had been resting on his desk.

“May’s asking what we want for dinner.” You read her text off your screen. “Do you want Chinese again or-“

Before you could finish your sentence, Peter shot a web at your waist and pulled you towards him. You stumbled into his arms before looking down in confusion. You saw the web attached to your hip and tugged at it, but it didn’t come off. You looked at Peter with wide eyes for some answers.

“What the fuck?” You whispered harshly as you yanked on the web.

“Do you believe me now?” He asked as he held up his wrist. You saw the web shooter he had slipped on and touched it carefully. Between the web on your hip and his crazy story, you had no choice but to believe him.

“Well now I’m just embarrassed.” You mumbled sheepishly. “I was pretty sure I was right.”

“I told you you’d have to get used to be being right.” Peter smirked as he helped pull the web off of you. You put your hands on your hips and sighed loudly as you processes the information.

“Okay, wait.” You began. “How have you been Spider-Man this whole time? I’ve seen you fall up the stairs.”

“It’s different when I have the suit on.” He told you. “It gives me confidence.”

“Can I see it?” You asked, a childlike smile on your lips.

“The suit? Sure.” Peter went to his closet and pulled it out of his hiding spot. He brought it over to you, noticing your awestruck expression and smiling.

“Wow.” You whispered as you stared at the folded suit. “Can I touch it?”

“Go ahead.” He smiled, loving how impressed you were. He watched you fondly as you carefully ran your fingertips along the suit, tracing all the lines and details.

“It feels like a football.” You commented, making him laugh.

“Yeah.” He agreed. “I’m not sure what material it is. Mr. Stark made it for me.”

“Tony Stark made this for you?” You gasped.

“Yeah.” He nodded. “A few years ago.”

“Is that when he recruited you?” You wondered. “For Germany?”

“Is it. You listened.” He smiled happily when you remembered little details he had told you.

“Well I can’t tune you out anymore if you’re my boyfriend.” You winked at him before returning your attention to the suit. He blushed a little, appreciating how far you’ve come in your relationship.

“Can you put it on for me?” You asked suddenly as you looked up at him. Peter didn’t expect this reaction, especially not this request.

“Really? You want me to put it on?” He smiled shyly.

“Please?” Your eyes lit up. “I want to see you in it.”

“Okay.” He nodded as he tried to hide his excitement. “I’ll go put it on.”

Peter went into his bathroom and slipped into the suit. He didn’t know why he was as excited as he was to show you. Maybe because you hadn’t caught him in the suit like May and Ned had. He told you his secret willingly, and you asked to know more.

“Are you ready?” You called from the other side of the door. “I feel like I’m waiting to see you walk down the aisle.”

“I’m ready.” He called back as he pressed the center of the suit so it tightened against his skin. He gave himself one last look in the mirror before going back to his bedroom.

“Here it is.” He said sheepishly as he walked towards you. “What do you think?”

Your jaw dropped a little when you saw him. He seemed taller, but you realized it was just because he wasn’t slouching. In his suit, he looked more confident then you had ever seen him. He looked like a hero, and it brought a smile to your face.

“Holy shit.” You whispered as you walked closer to him. You reached forward to touch him, but quickly moved withdrew your hand.

“Are you scared?” He worried when he saw you pull away.

“No. Not of you.” You assured him. “But sometimes I find random glitter on my hands and I’m scared of getting anything on the suit.”

Peter chuckled at your reasoning and picked up your hand.

“It’s okay. You can touch me.” He whispered as he put his hand on his chest. Your eyebrows went up when you felt his warmth through the suit.

“Wow.” You smiled softly. “I didn’t think I’d be able to feel your heartbeat through it”.

“Well you make it beat pretty fast.” He told you as he put his hand over yours.

“Wait.” You pulled away a little. “If you’re Spider-Man, does that mean…”

“Yes?” Peter asked when you trailed off.

“You can set me up with Bucky.” You finished your sentence. “Do you have his number? Tell him I want to wash his hair.”

Peter let out a loud groan, not finding your joke funny. You laughed and tried to pull him back to you, but he kept pulling away.

“I’m kidding. I’m kidding. Come back.” You laughed and tugged on his arm. “Come here. I love you.”

Peter stopped pulling away and froze. When you saw the bewildered look on his face, your smile fell.

“What?” He asked, his voice coming out in a whisper. That shit eating grin you used to hate broke through, lighting up his features. You tried not to let your shock show as you realized what you had said.

“Hm?” You pretended not to understand. “What?”

“What did you just say?” Peter again, now unsure he has heard you correctly.

“I didn’t say anything.” You shrugged, trying to act like you didn’t just tell your boyfriend that you loved him. It’s not that you didn’t mean it, but you didn’t mean to tell him that soon.

“Did you just tell me you loved me?” Peter asked hopefully as he pulled your closer to him.

“Hm. No. Wasn’t me.” You shook your head. “Must have been the wind.”

“My windows are closed.”

“Air conditioning.” You corrected.

“It’s off.”

“Then I don’t know what to tell you. I didn’t tell you I loved you. That would be ridiculous. How could I have fallen in love with the most annoying person on the planet?” You asked, questioning yourself more then him. You didn’t know how you had fallen for Peter in such a short amount of time. Just a few months ago, you couldn’t stand him. Now, you were standing in front of him, hoping he loved you back.

“I ask myself that every time I look at you.” He said, making your breath hitch in your throat.

“Are you saying you love me too?” You asked slowly.

“I thought you didn’t tell me you loved me?” He smirked, always taking a chance to tease you.

“I didn’t.” You lied, but you knew you were caught.

“Damn. That’s a shame.” Peter smiled softly. “Because I love you.”

“Yeah.” You smiled back once he confessed his feelings. “I bet you do, loser.”

Peter laughed at your never ending need to insult him before pulling you into a kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck to keep him close. You could feel his gloved hands on the bare skin of your waist and shivered. When you pulled away, you kept your foreheads pressed together.

“I never thought it would be you.” You mumbled as you twirled one of his curls around your finger. “I never thought I’d fall in love with you.”

“It surprised me too.” He chuckled. “I’m glad this happened though. You weren’t just who I wanted to be. You were who I wanted to be with.”

“Promise me you’ll be careful.” You whispered. “I don’t ever want to get a call at three am telling me I need to come to the hospital. And I don’t want to start bringing three roses to the cemetery instead of two.”

“Hey, I’m not going anywhere.” He assured you as he held your face between his hands. He wiped your tears away with his gloves hands and kissed your nose. “I would never go anywhere where you couldn’t follow”.

“Ew.” You sniffled as you wiped your eyes.

“Why ew?” He chuckled.

“We’re gross.” You said. “We fell in love and now we’re gross.”

“It’s okay.” He smiled. “I like being gross with you.”

“I’m gonna throw up.” You gagged, making you both laugh.

“You’ll be okay.” He told you, and you believed him.

“Okay, now that we got that conversation out of the way, I have a lot of questions about all of this.” You said as you gestured to his suit.

“Ask me anything.” He said. “I’ll answer.”

“What did you wear before this?” You wondered. “I saw Spider-Man sightings on the news before 2016.”

Peter went to his closet and pulled out his original Spider-Man suit, the makeshift hoodie he used to wear.

“This. I made it myself.” He said as he handed it to you.

“No kidding.” You teased as you took it from him. “Did you sew this with your feet?”

“It was the best I could do.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m so lucky he made me a real suit. This one was not very protective.”

“Actually, I kind of like it.” You smiled as you held it up. It had bullet holes and tears everywhere. “It shows where you’ve been. And how far you’ve come.”

“I like your way of looking at it.” He smiled. “It’s yours, if you like it so much. I don’t need it anymore.”

“Why don’t you tell people that its you? This would make you famous. Like, Tony Stark famous.” You said as you put the hoodie on. “Don’t you want that? You know, since you’re such a loser at school.”

“Very funny”. He narrowed his eyes at you. “And no, actually. I’m safer this way. Plus, the bad guys can’t tell if I’m scared with the mask on. And it’s fun to have a secret. It gives me an edge.”

“Wow. I did not think me telling you I wanted to fuck the Winter Soldier would lead to all of this.” You poked fun at the situation.

“Me either but I’m glad it did.” He remarked. “I’m happy that you know. And I’m happy that you love me.”

“Well don’t make a big deal out of it.” You mumbled. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Don’t be embarrassed.” He laughed. “This is exciting. It’s all exciting.”

“We get it.” You teased as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “You’re an Avenger, I’m in love with you, yada yada. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“It’s the hugest deal.” He insisted. “I want you to meet them. Come meet my team.”

“You want me to meet the Avengers?” You gulped.

“Yeah. I’m supposed to stop by the tower later for a meeting. Why don’t you come with me? This is one of the rare days where everyone is in the tower.”

“Are you sure about this?” You asked him. “What if they don’t like me?”

“They probably won’t.” He said simply. “Since you’re so irritating and everything.”

“Shut up.” You shoved him playfully. “I’m serious. This is way more intimidating than meeting someone’s parents.”

“Don’t be scared. I’ll be holding your hand the entire time.” He said as he kissed your knuckles. “And they’re way less intimidating than they seem. I promise, you’ll be fine.”

“Okay.” You reluctantly agreed. “I’ll meet them. But if I see Bucket, I can’t promise I’ll be able to control my hormones.”

“It’s Bucky.” He corrected. “And I’ll know if you’re getting too, you know, hot and bothered.”

“How would you know?” You asked, and his face flushed.

“Well, one of the powers I got was super smell. I can smell when people are scared or happy or…” He trialed off, too much or a gentleman to say the word.

“Horny?” You asked with a dropped jaw. “You can smell when people are horny?”

“I prefer the term aroused.” He said sheepishly, making you laugh loudly.

“Oh my God. What a pervert.” You teased him.

“It’s not my fault!” He was flustered now. “I didn’t ask for this power.”

“Wait.” You realized. “Can you smell when I’m aroused?”

Peter didn’t answer, but his silence spoke volumes. Your jaw dropped as you playfully smacked him.

“You pervert!” You painfully scolded. “You could smell that and never told me?”

“It’s my my fault.” He whined. “Not all the time, anyway.”

“So when is it your fault?” You folded your arms and he gulped.

“It’s only my fault when I purposefully wear that one white shirt.” He said quietly. “Whenever I’m wearing it, I can always, you know...”

“Smell me?” You nearly screamed. “You wear that shirt just to get a rise out of me? You little slut.”

“I’m not a slut.” Peter laughed. “I could just smell how much you liked it, so I started wearing it more. And in the name of being honest, I can smell you right now.”

“Oh my God. You whore. You little minx.” You taunted playfully. “Using your body for attention like that. What a dirty little slut.”

“I’m not dirty or a slut.” Peter insisted. “You’re the one who gets worked up over a t shirt.”

“Excuse me?” You let out a shocked laugh. “Don’t turn this around on me, mister. I can’t control how I react to your erotic clothing. Especially when you’re the one who can’t even form a sentence around me when I wear that one red skirt.”

“Erotic?” He shot back. “It’s literally a $5 shirt from Target. It’s shapeless. And that skirt could not be shorter. I can literally see your ovaries in it.”

“You give it shape with your stupid spider muscles.” You said as you pointed an accusing finger at him.

“Oh my God.” He gasped. “You’re thinking about the shirt now, aren’t you?”

“No I’m not.” You said quickly.

“Really?” He cocked his head. “Smells like you are.”

Before you could respond, and you had a lot to say, Peter’s phone buzzed.

“It’s Mr. Stark.” He told you. “He said I should come now.”

“We’re finishing this conversation later.” You said as you grabbed your phone. “You’re still in trouble.”

“Whatever you say.” Peter chuckled as he lead you out the door. You thought you were going to the elevator, but Peter brought you to the staircase.

“I don’t walk there.” He said as he lead you up the stairs. He opened the door to the roof and gestured to the edge. “I swing.”

The next thing you knew, you were swinging towards the Avengers tower in Peter’s arms. You held on tightly to him as you tried not to scream in his ear. He was loving how he finally got to show someone what his life was like while you were fearing for your life. Finally, you landed on the balcony of the tower and Peter set you down.

“So?” He asked excitedly. “Did you have fun?”

“You tell me. Can’t you smell my excitement?” You jeered as you caught your breath. Peter knew you weren’t going to drop that for a long time. He took his mask off and lead you inside, not wanting to tell you that he could smell how scared you were.

Finally, he brought you to the conference room where the rest of the Avengers were. Their causal chatter came to a stop when you walked in together and all eyes were on you.

“Hey everyone.” Peter said shyly. “This is my girlfriend, Y/n. Shes gonna sit in on the meeting today.”

“Y/n?” Nat jumped in immediately. “The one who’s hair you used to stick gum in when you were little?”

“I thought Y/n was the girl who filled your locker with extra small condoms and the filmed you when they all fell out.” Sam chuckled, giving you an impressed smile.

“No, wait.” Bruce cut in. “I thought she was the one who started the rumor that Peter didn’t know how to swim.”

“You’re all wrong.” Steve sighed. “Y/n is the one Peter blamed losing the class pet on. Remember? The little rat escaped and he told the class it was her fault.”

“It was a hamster.” Peter cringed. “And it was my fault. Sorry about that.”

“I love you, but I will never forgive you for that.” You smiled softly as you stroked his cheek with your thumb. The team looked at each knowingly at this display of affection.

“Love?” Tony asked as he entered the room. “Are we talking about how much you all love me?”

Tony stopped in his tracks when he saw you standing there. You had forgotten to take off Peter’s original Spider-man hoodie, and it caught Tony off guard. He never thought he’d see that hoodie again, the one that brought him to Peter in the first place. The one he studied and tried to replicate when he made Peter a new suit. The corners of his mouth turned down as he appreciated how much Peter had grown.

“Oh. I see Peter brought a friend.” Tony remarked. “Please, make yourself at home in our top secret facility that no one unauthorized personnel is supposed to enter.”

“Mr. Stark, this is my girlfriend Y/n.” Peter introduced you. You held out your hand for Tony to shake, and he did so without taking his eyes off of you.

“Y/n?” He asked. “The one-“

“Yeah. Probably.” You nodded, making him laugh.

“Nice to meet you, Y/n.” He said as he straightened himself out. “You’re welcome to sit in on the meeting. But if you make any noise, you will be taken out by a sniper.”

“He’s kidding.” Peter whispered to you, but he wasn’t entirely sure. Peter took a seat and you sat on his lap, making him fight back a smile. He was now at an Avengers meeting with his former enemy sitting on his lap, wearing his clothes.

“Thank you, sir.” You smiled at him. “It’s nice to meet you too. All of you. I appreciate everything you guys have done for the world. You’re all really brave.”

“Your boyfriend is pretty brave too.” Steve commented. “He surprises me everytime we work together.”

“I was surprised too.” You agreed. “I didn’t think the biggest loser I knew was protecting Queens.”

Everyone raised their eyebrows at your subtle jab at Peter and it suddenly made sense why the girl he’d been complaint about all these years had the same name as his girlfriend.

“You let her talk to you like that?” Sam teased.

“She can say whatever she wants.” Peter shrugged. “And she does. Do you know how hard it is to get her to stop talking?”

“Not nearly as hard as it is to get you to clean up after yourself, put the toilet seat down, or show up on time for dates.” You replied with a cheery smile. Peter smiled back and took the loss, not wanting to get into it in front of his team. He turned back to Tony and gave him his full attention as the meeting began. You stayed quiet on Peter’s lap as the team discussed their next mission and who would be covering what territory. You made a small noise when Tony gave Peter his assignment, making everyone look at you.

“Whats the matter?” Peter asked as he bounced you a little on his knee.

“I just didn’t realize you were such an important part of the team.” You said. Peter had a big role that required a lot more responsibility than you thought he was capable of. He didn’t seem worried in the slightest, which told you he was used to this much responsibility. Something about Peter’s ambition and ability to take on Avenger level tasks for very appealing to you.

So appealing, in fact, that Peter noticed.

“Hm.” Peter said and he sniffed the air. You folded your lips in, knowing exactly what he was doing. The rest of the team had no idea what was happening, but you knew Peter was trying to get a rise out of you.

“What’s wrong?” Nat took the bait. You pinched Peter’s leg under the table as he took another loud whiff.

“Nothing.” Peter smirked. “It just smells funny in here.”

Tag List 🏷

@awesomebooklover17​ @thebookwormlife​ @imanativeofswlondondahling​ @weirdr-artiest​ @serendipitous-amor​ @dummiesshort​

@foreverxholland​ @lavender-writer​ @michaela072796​ @whatareyouhidingpeter​ @takenbyheartstrings​ @ultrunning​ @imyourliquor-youremypoison​ @andreasworlsboring101​ @waiting-to-be-myself​ @letsloveimagines​ @peterparkoure​ @a-villain-vying-for-attention​ @justcallmehitgirl​ @jackiehollanderr​ @tiny-friggin-human @mara-twins​ @iamaunicorn4704​ @maryjanee23​ @geeksareunique​ @emmamarshmellow​ @unbelievableholland​ @flixndchill​ @sovereignparker​ @thisisthebiplace​ @spideydobrik​ @every-marveler-ever​ @undiadeestos​ @caelestii-e​ @eridanuswave​​ @itscaminow​​ @fiantomartell​ @solarxmoonchild​ @canyouevencauseicant​ @illwritetomorrow​ @thehappygrungelife​ @saysomethingspiderman​ @smilexcaptainx​ @quaksonhehe​ @kelieah​ @kickingn-ames​ @seasidecrowbar​ @lovelessdagger​ @love-sick-blues​ @electraheart-3174​ @unbelievableholland​ @yourtypicalhotmess​ @spideyanakin​ @horanxholland​ @thesuitelifeofafangirl​ @anapocalypseinmymind @marshxx​ @heyheycharlatte​ @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie​ @tomshufflepuff​ @cookiemonstermusic258​

@maybemona​ @alexxcorona113​ @lethal-wisdom​ @xo-spidey​ @im-still-tryin-to-find-it​ @big-galaxy-chaos​ @pandaxnienke​ @theincredibledeadlyviper​  @thestylestour​  @officialsimppage​ @mrvelscaptains​ @peterbenjiparker​ @itsemohours​  @okkulta​ @parkerlovebot​ @jungkxxkk​ @friendlyneighborhood-mendes​ @whatthefuckimbisexual​ @olixerwxxd​ @starkbrain​ @creatorofthegalaxy​  @f-hollands​ @ilovefrogs1000​ @itstaskeen​ @itmatteredatthetime​ @wrendermeuseless​ @amazinggracy​  @iprobablyshipit91​ @magicalxdaydream​ @whereismytelephone​ @theonly1outof-a-billion​ @leilanixx​ @namoreno​ @bi-lmg​ @dracoswhore007​ @tomhollandloml​ @avengers-hamiltrash​ @sunshinepeterparkr​ @gh0stgurl​ @so-very-asleep​ @veryholland​  @white-wolf1940​ @spideycheles​ @wonderzwndaya​ @fanficaddict13125​ @pinklxmonade​ @thebestqueenoftheworld​ @nowayhomeparker​ @willowestelle​ @imobsessedzs​ @spideyspeaches​ @bookfrog242​

[sehunniepotwrites]

if we were a movie | j.jh

for @nctsworld’s first writing challenge

SYNOPSIS. For someone who was always the understudy and never the lead, scoring this role was huge for you. All you had to do was pretend to be in love with your best friend. No big deal, right? Wrong. It was the biggest deal because, for the past four years, you had been hiding your feelings for Jung Jaehyun.

If this were a movie, he would be your perfect match and the story would end happily with the credits rolling to a perfectly timed soundtrack. Too bad this wasn’t a movie— this was real life and life came with complications.

GENRE. childhood friends to lovers!au, college!au, drama school!au, slow burn, angst, humor, mutual pining, fluff (loosely based on the Filipino rom-com Must Be Love and If We Were a Movie by Hannah Montana) PAIRING. theatre major!Jaehyun x  theatre major!reader WORD COUNT. 14+ k

WARNINGS. point of view switches from first (”I”) to second (”you”); self-doubt, insecurities, mutual pining, cursing, lots of references and direct quotes from musicals such as Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella, Disney’s Newsies, Disney’s Beauty and the Beast, Shrek the Musical, and Wicked (edited but i might’ve missed some mistakes; bare with me!)

There are moments where time flows as normal, where people carry on with their days as they usually do. Then, there are moments people experience in slow-motion, where the world just stops spinning and all the background noise just fades away. These are the moments people look forward to. They’re the breathtaking ones, the ones that capture your heart and soul. After those moments, people are never the same. 

The first time I experienced something in slow motion was when I made my stage debut at a small talent show. There was thunderous applause after my performance and while my heart thumped against my chest, the world seemed to come to a stop. That’s when I knew my heart belonged to the stage or rather, the stage belonged to me. 

Some of these slo-mo moments are the ones where people fall in love. 

My father said that’s how he knew my mother was the one for him: he experienced it all at a slowed rate, everything fading into black and she was the only thing he saw. She was his brightest star and he was the one who reached for the sky to bring her down to Earth. 

When I was younger, I always dreamed about my “falling in love” slow-mo moment. I pictured a grandiose event with large actions and sweet words.  For it to actually happen at theatre camp during the initial dress rehearsal for Disney’s Beauty and the Beast J.R.— well, that was far from what I hoped for. 

And yet, it was just as special as I thought it would be. 

I was in my obnoxious fork costume, waiting for my best friend to leave the boy’s dressing room. 

Jung Jaehyun had been my best friend since the beginning, otherwise known as my first year at theatre camp. Only ten years old at the time, we both were cast as two of the three blind mice in Shrek the Musical and had been inseparable ever since. Although we attended different middle schools, our friendship grew from our shared vocal and dance lessons as well as our summers at camp. You know how it is; those who end up in the ensemble together stay together. 

Going over the dance moves in my head, I didn’t hear my friend’s voice calling my name. He gripped my shoulder, the action surprising me to the point where I lost my balance. I yelped and shut my eyes, expecting to fall onto the hard ground but a hand grabbing onto my wrist prevented my doom. With an arm around my waist, I barely missed the ground.

Slowly opening my eyes, I glanced up to see Jung Jaehyun looking down at me with a worried gaze. He was just a sixteen-year-old boy dressed as a spoon and yet, the world around us came to a halt. Gone were the other frantic theatre kids and the backstage messes. The couple playing Belle and the Beast was no longer sitting across from us, running through their lines. No hustle and bustle of the crew and the props masters.

It was just me dressed as a fork, falling down while my spoon for a best friend caught me in his arms. 

“We make quite a pair, don’t we, Forky?” he chuckled lowly, hitting the top of his costume to mine. It was a ridiculous sight— a pair of oversized cutlery in a crowded dressing room.

A burning hot sensation crept its way up to my face as he gently pulled me up. “I guess we do.”

Since then, my life has never been the same. I was in love with my best friend, Jung Jaehyun. I fell for him when the world stopped spinning beneath my feet while his world, unfortunately, kept on turning.

I remember each and every slowed-down moment in life —the good, the bad, and the absolute worst. I never thought a bad slo-mo moment existed, I simply didn’t think it was possible. 

I was young and naive then and I was so incredibly wrong.

The moment that hurt me most took place in my senior year of high school. The final callbacks for our community’s production of Disney’s Newsies were in order. The role of Jack Kelly, the headstrong and flirty newsboy, was easily given to the ever-so-charming Jung Jaehyun. He was not only my best friend at the time but he was the it-boy of our small theatre. People were either in love with him or wanted to be him— his talent matched his insane looks. His kind personality made him all the more lovable.

Jaehyun had his two fatal flaws, though. Everyone knew them but still saw him in such a bright light.

One: the boy was extremely clumsy. Jaehyun was often called “magic hands,” constantly ruining his props. It was a running gag in the theatre but the props committee never minded; one smile was all it took for them to forgive him and his cursed hands. 

That was his first flaw. And his second? Jaehyun fell in love way too easily and way too fast. 

How exactly did I find this out? Well, I was there to witness the scene that lifted his heart to the highest of levels while mine dropped straight to the ground.

I was in the running for the stubbornly intelligent female lead named Katherine Plumber. My opponent was the confident and radiant Son Wendy. She always played the lead in her high school productions but this was a community musical and I was determined to claim that part as my own. 

I went first, entering the audition room with a smile with the script gripped tightly in my palm. Performing alongside my best friend was easy. The romantic scene was a piece of cake, not because the lines were a breeze. That wasn’t it at all. It wasn’t because I memorized the Newsies script as a child either. It was because, at that moment, Jung Jaehyun was in love with me as much as I was in love with him. It was a moment I wanted to cherish forever: the way he looked at me was something I had never experienced before. It was so full of emotion and passion, like he had me within his grasp and never wanted to let me go.

“You got this. I believe in you,” he whispered in my ear, squeezing my hand in support. His breath tickled my skin and sent shivers down my spine. The nerves were back, not because of the audition, but because of him. 

“You’re just saying that because it’s the scene we’re about to act out, Jae,” I hissed. The sheet music for the duet, Something to Believe In, wrinkled in my free palm. 

His warm, comforting hand pressed harder against my own. “No, it’s not that. If you need someone to believe in you, I’m right here. I’ve got you, Forky. Always.”

The director cleared his throat from his seat, his scrutinizing eyes watching us closely as we got into position, just like we rehearsed a thousand times. “Whenever you’re ready.”

I watched as Jaehyun took a deep breath to get into character. He closed his eyes, rolled his broad shoulders back, and then his lids snapped open. His brown-eyed gaze aimed straight at me, with a vulnerable expression taking over his features. He was no longer Jung Jaehyun— he was Jack Kelly, a scared newsboy who was in love with a newspaper company heiress. 

The line came pouring out of his mouth with the utmost sincerity, the confusion and affection seeping through his words, “Just standing here tonight, looking at you, I’m scared tomorrow is gonna come and change everything.”

 Jaehyun took a step forward towards me, an unsure smile curling on his lips. “If there was a way I could just grab hold of something to make time stop just so I could keep looking at you.”

His body stops right in front of mine, keeping a clear distance but enough to feel the passion radiating off of his words and actions. For once in my young life, my best friend looked at me with a different kind of love in his eyes and I returned it, my genuine feelings seeping through my words. 

Biting my lip, I replied coyly, “You snuck up on me, Jack Kelly, I never even saw it coming.”

“For sure?” he stage-whispered. His upstage hand unexpectedly reached up to caress my cheek. The action was unrehearsed, almost catching me off guard. It was a different take on the scene. The characters were supposed to be shy, their thoughts wavering on their own feelings for each other and the impending strike that was to come the day after; yet, Jaehyun played Jack as someone certain of his feelings.

“For sure,” I answered back at the same volume, my hand cupping his own to follow along with his direction. It felt as if he was searching my soul for my thoughts and I could not let him in. The opening bars of the romantic duet echoed throughout the room and after taking a breath, I began to sing. Jaehyun joined in on the second verse and instantly, our voices blended together in a beautiful harmony, one that beat our Newsies karaoke sessions in his car. 

The scene ended as quickly as it began. The director hummed before jotting notes down and whispering to his casting assistants for a few seconds. I thought they were the longest seconds of my life. Jaehyun nodded his head to reassure me. “You did well, Forky.”

“Of course I did, it’s me we’re talking about here,” I nudged him back. “I can do no wrong, Jae!” 

“Thank you,” the director finally spoke, “you may go. Jaehyun, if you could escort her out and fetch Wendy for me?”

“Of course,” your friend nodded. The feeling of his large hand on my back slowly guided me out of the room. The spot he touched me burned but my cheeks were burning even more. Why was it that every little touch drove me to the brink of insanity?

“You’re so going to land this part,” I remember him saying as he squeezed my waist. My heart was beating erratically against my ribcage, the butterflies in my stomach threatening to fly their way up my throat.

“You think so?”

“Oh definitely,” Jaehyun stressed with a wink. 

He said it too soon. 

Because the minute he locked gazes with Son Wendy, I just knew he had found his leading lady. 

“S-Son Wendy?” he stuttered as he caught sight of the pretty girl in the waiting room. Her hair was styled similarly to a young maiden from the turn of the century, perfectly curled and out of her face. 

“Yes?” she smiled back.

It seemed like the words were caught in my best friend’s throat. Sneaking a glance at Jaehyun’s ears, they burned a bright red. “We’re, um, we’re ready for you.”

I watched as Jaehyun nervously offered his arm to her, his eyes never leaving her face. It was like he was her own personal spotlight, the way his eyes shone just for the girl in front of him. The boy was completely enamored and I was instantly in the shadows. The sweet smile that was reserved for me was directed towards another and it sparkled in a way it never did before.

The world around me moved incredibly slow as they passed me by. With everything frozen, all I saw was the gorgeous couple headed to the audition room with hushed exchanges. Jaehyun took his time heading to the private room to spend more time with the girl while Son Wendy steadily made her way into my friend’s fragile heart. My own heart clenched at the sight. It was breaking ever so slowly and I felt every little crack and tear. 

Even with the role of the understudy, it was as if I never even had a chance at winning his heart over. If Wendy wasn’t present for one rehearsal, Jaehyun didn’t even see me— his own best friend since our ensemble days. He was way too deep into his “showmance.” It was like I never even existed. It wasn’t long before he called Wendy his girlfriend and then, I was invisible. Cast aside. Ignored.

Needless to say, my heart broke in slow-motion as Jaehyun’s pounded rapidly for a girl that took two parts I desperately ached for: Katherine Plumber and the girl who held Jaehyun’s heart. 

But this was just the first time his heart was stolen by his opposite. The first of many.

The first two years of university passed me by like a summer breeze. Constantly busy with general education and introductory drama courses, I was constantly flitting around from building to building. My hands were usually occupied by my laptop, a blazing cup of caffeinated tea, and a worn out script while my mind was filled with jumbled up lines and the dramatic cries of an overwhelmed university student. I probably wouldn’t have made it this far if it wasn’t for Jaehyun and Xiao Dejun, another theatre major we had met during orientation, by my side.

Fast forward to my third year and the three of us were headed to the office of the theatre department. It was posting day for the spring musical— the day the cast list was revealed. This year’s musical spectacular was Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella. The play itself was a modern classic and it was also my dream come true.

This day, just like any posting day of the drama department, was nerve-racking. Everyone was anxious to find out what parts they were given and how the fairytale would play out. The part of the brave and kind Ella was always on my list of roles I wanted to fill. As much as I thought I did well on my final callback, I didn’t want to set my hopes too high.

“Are you nervous?” Jaehyun asked while draping an arm over my shoulder. He playfully put all his weight onto his right side to throw me off balance. 

“Nervous? Me? Why would I be nervous if I’m like 95% sure  I’m going to get the understudy again?” I chuckled sarcastically. Bitterly. It happened every year, so why get my hopes up now?

“Yeah but—”

“No buts, I’ve accepted the title of the Wonderstudy! I think you should too, Jae,” I slapped his shoulder before quickly slipping out of his hold before linking arms with Dejun. My best friend let out a yelp, almost tripping over his own two feet as we continued down the hallway. “I’m mediocre at best.”

The Wonderstudy: it was the nickname the other students in the department gave me because I was always the understudy. I was never the star of the show. It said that I was good but not good enough. 

Dejun leaned in and whispered, “You do know that you’re more than just that, right? You’re an actor. A phenomenal one. You weren’t accepted to this drama program by just being mediocre at best.”

I ignored my friend’s comment, eyes zoned in at the other end of the building. The crowd of usual theatre students crowded around the bulletin board, curious heads popping up and down trying to take a peek at the list. Some buzzed with excitement, happy they got a major part while others groaned in disappointment. You were most likely going to be with the later group. 

Once the cluster of students caught sight of Jaehyun, they parted like the red sea to let him through. It wasn’t really necessary, though, everyone knew the it-boy of the drama department was cast as the role of the misguided prince, Topher. 

The only question was: who was cast as his princess? Who was this year’s Ella?

I fought my way through the bunch with Dejun following behind me as our best friend was showered with congratulations. Jaehyun was all smiles, dimples prominent as he was lavished by the mass. Dejun made it to the list first. His finger dragged along the thin paper until he found his name. He cheered, pumping his fist up in joy. “I got the part I wanted! I’m Jean-Michel!”

Grinning at my friend, I sincerely congratulated him. He got the second lead: the feisty peasant looking for change. Turning again, his eyes grazed the list until Dejun found my name. His smile dropped ever so slightly and that was when I knew: I was beaten once again. 

“What part did I get?”

“Gabrielle,” he answered. Ah, the outwardly abrasive but quietly empathetic sister. The second lead, love interest of Jean-Michel. At least I was playing Dejun’s opposite. 

I took a step closer, wondering who took the part of the kind princess. Squinting at the small print, my eyes scanned the jumble of words until I saw it.

Ella……………………….Lee Naeun Ella u/s………………….Y/N

I scoffed. Forever the understudy. The Wonderstudy of the Theatre Department indeed.

The first rehearsal, otherwise known as the read-through, took a toll on me. It was usually a two to three hour long session, filled with loud chatter, crazy introductions, and a variety of crazy theatre games to break the ice. When the niceties ended, everyone took their seats in their plastic chairs that were arranged in a huge circle. Bae Joohyun, the head stage manager began reading the stage directions aloud as the table read began. The production’s director, Professor O’Hare, sat alongside Joohyun, jotting down notes and giving out commentary when needed. 

Amongst the reading of lines were tiny whispers, the sound of highlighters and pencils marking the paper, and the simultaneous turning of pages. The music director, Professor Lau sat at the piano bench and sight-read the music to give the cast a taste of the songs. Being the first rehearsal, the few who knew of the songs sang along to the accompaniment with joyous smiles, myself and Dejun included.

When Professor Lau played the first romantic duet between the leads, all heads turned to Jaehyun and Naeun who sat side-by-side. With it being their first time together, the performance was far from perfect but it was still something. His lower tone blended nicely with her softer voice and the shy glances they exchanged made their duet quite a sight. 

As Jaehyun and Naeun read the last lines for Act One, I noticed the way Jaehyun’s gaze kept flittering back to Naeun’s pretty face. The girl was focused on her lines, head down and hair blocking her gorgeous features, but he still kept looking at her and only her. I could imagine how the scene was playing out in his head, the world slowing down until Naeun was the only one moving.  He was infatuated. Twitterpated. 

And it hurt. It hurt more than reading the tragedy of Romeo and Juliet or listening to Elphaba’s desperate cry she lets out when she loses Fiyero. Call me dramatic but that was how I felt. 

It wasn’t like I tried getting over him. It wasn’t like I tried dating other people before; I had many, many times but my mind always drifted back to my best friend. He was the boy with the richest brown eyes, the perfectly dimpled smile, and the lowest laugh that set my heart aflame. Without even knowing it, Jaehyun had this incredible hold on my broken heart and he would not let me out of his grip. 

The green-eyed monster inside me resurfaced and I hated it. I absolutely hated it— why was I so pathetically in love with my best friend? 

 “Here we go again,” I said before dropping my head onto the table. 

“You say that every time and you keep running back to him at the end of the day,” Dejun whispered before looking back down at his script. His hand continued to jet across the page, his highlighter marking his many lines. 

Rolling up the script in my hand, I whacked his side. The action caused his hand to jerk the bright marker in another direction, striking a distorted line on his page. “Look what you did, twerp!” he hissed.

“Your fault, Eyebrows!”

“Stop calling me that, you fork!”

“Hey, only I can call her fork!” Jaehyun appeared out of nowhere, plopping alongside me. His voice snapped us out of our little argument, making us realize that the director called for a fifteen. 

“That’s only because you’re a dumb spoon,” I stuck my tongue out at him. Jaehyun pretended to reach for it and I blew a raspberry at him to retaliate. 

“You two idiots are my favorite cutlery set,” Dejun shook his head with a laugh. He was probably wondering why he stuck around us the majority of the time. 

“Let off it, Dejun,” Jaehyun said with the roll of his brown orbs. 

“Only if you let me be the knife to your set.”

“As if, dumbass,” I countered with a laugh. 

“Okay but you guys, can we stop fighting for a sec and talk about how I got her number?” Jaehyun beamed, throwing his arms over both our shoulders. He pulled us closer to his body and the faint smell of his musky cologne hit my nose. I held back a sigh as it filled my senses. Oh, to be drowned in his scent. 

“I got Naeun’s number!” he repeated excitedly, his strong arms shaking us. I held back my abrupt want to push him off. I wasn’t in a celebrating mood. My heart was too broken to care.

“Of course you did, when do you not get a girl’s number?” I answered a bit too bitterly. Raising a brow at him, I added, “Are we supposed to be surprised?”

“Listen,” Jaehyun countered, pulling back from me. “I don’t like that attitude, Forky.”

I scoffed, “Never stopped you from being my friend before, Jae.”

Jaehyun didn’t answer; he was too busy clutching his phone. His pretty brown eyes were fixed on Naeun’s contact page like it was the world’s greatest treasure. His eyes were sparkling in admiration before his gaze turned to the girl across the room. The look my best friend wore on his face was soft, the smile on his lips light. “I think she could be the one.”

Some thought him to be a player but I never thought of him that way. He might have had the looks of a heartbreaker but he had the purest heart of gold. The boy with the dimpled smile, porcelain skin, and cheeks as red as roses was a hopeless romantic to his very core. He was simply looking for his other half. 

“I think she could be the one.” His words repeated in my head, his voice pestering me. My heart lurched at them despite hearing them each semester. 

Jaehyun said this every year, with every girl. He said this when he crushed on Son Wendy, Kim Chungha, and so many more. His infatuations and crushes ended just as easily as they started. The boy was more than disappointed when the initial spark with each girl ended after a show’s run ended. When the musical closed, so did his feelings for each opposite. 

I never got stage fright; I was usually the one who said what was on her mind without a moment’s hesitation. So why was I hesitating to tell him my feelings?

Why was I hesitating to say that the one Jaehyun could be looking for was standing right next to him?

Just another rehearsal at the auditorium. 

Just another day watching my best friend fall for his leading lady.

Jaehyun and Naeun were standing in the middle of the stage, the ensemble surrounding them. He stood behind her, his hands gently placed on her waist while she leaned back into his touch. Naeun was wearing a fluffy tulle skirt, a mock-up of her ballgown. Park Sooyoung, the resident fashion major and lead costume designer, pushed her to wear it so she could get used to the estimated size of her dress. Even in a mere tank top and tulle skirt, Lee Naeun looked like a princess.

Professor Kwon, the choreographer of the production, stood at the end with a watchful eye. She counted them off, walking them through the routine while the rest of us practiced our steps off to the sidelines. 

Once the two main characters got the hang of their steps, Professor Kwon motioned for Professor Lau to play the songs from the beginning. As much as I tried to focus on my own dance moves, my mind kept wandering back to Jaehyun. 

Imagining him under the spotlight in a perfectly tailored suit, a crown sitting on his head, extending his arm out not to Naeun but to me. It was one of those movie moments where the characters and the audience watching fell in love. 

If life was like a movie, things would be so much easier. 

So lost in my thoughts, I missed a count and stepped on my partner’s foot. Muttering a quiet sorry to him, we continued on with the routine. As my partner swirled me around the dance floor, I drifted back into my daydream.

My utterly impossible daydream where I was the girl Jung Jaehyun was infatuated with. Although this play talked about impossible things happening everyday, I couldn’t imagine this ever happening. 

The terrible thing about being a theatre major in university was being a theatre major with midterms. Not only did I have to deal with hours of my back hunched over a desk and scattered study materials, I had to spend half of my days in the school’s theatre rehearsing. 

If I was not in class scribbling down last minute notes in notebooks,  I was learning dance routines or running lines on and off stage alongside Dejun. The days were long and the nights were even longer. Sometimes, the cast fell asleep in the seats of the auditorium while rehearsals were going on. We were all losing sleep. Some of us were losing our sanity but hey, welcome to the theatre. 

My schedule was filled to the brim and I wasn’t even the main character of the show. On top of that, I had to memorize the part of Ella. Not that it was really needed in the first place. 

No one ever stepped down from a lead role while I was their backup. It just didn’t happen.

Despite the hectic lives of belonging to the theatre department, the musical was two months into production and everything was running smoothly. With a month and a left until opening night, everyone was off-book and the initial stage blocking was done. The costuming and makeup committee were finishing up their mock-up designs and the student orchestra sounded divine. 

I saw more of Dejun than Jaehyun lately, my best friend being preoccupied with his new love interest before, during, and after rehearsals. I was cast aside once again.

Was it something out of the ordinary? No.

Did it still hurt? Yes.

Did I do anything about it? Absolutely not. I didn’t want to ruin his happiness. I rather suffer than see him as nothing but joyous, even if the happiness was temporary. The grin he wore when he was in love was too beautiful to rip away. Jaehyun shined like the light from the sun. I could never bring myself to do it. 

It was week eight of rehearsals when I stepped out of my last midterm, my head absolutely empty after reading small text for over an hour. Reaching into my backpack’s front pocket, I pulled out my cell phone and quickly turned it on. My screen was flooded with missed calls and texts from Professor O’Hare, Joohyun, Jaehyun, and Dejun, the notification numbers reaching over a hundred total. 

Something must have happened. Talk about a theatre emergency. Knowing our kind, they were probably being overdramatic. 

Just as I was about to unlock my phone, a video call went through. It was Dejun. Rolling my eyes, I slid my finger across the screen to answer it. “Jeez, I know you love me but give a girl a break, Eyebrows!”

“God, you’re so conceited sometimes. Why didn’t you answer my calls?!” He shouted, face close to the phone. I winced at the volume, immediately lowering the level as I slipped on my wireless earbuds. “There are important matters to discuss here!”

“What happened this time? Did someone say Macbeth in the theatre again? You know I don’t believe in that shit,” I said sarcastically.

“Oh my god. This is not the time for jokes! Everyone’s been trying to reach you!” Xiaojun yelled once more. “Where are you?!”

“I just got out of my musical history midterm in Maple Hall. Heading to the theatre right now. Why?” I never received an answer; Dejun hung up the call. Giving my phone a weird look, I shoved it in my pocket before continuing on my way. A light push on my back prevented me from going too far. 

“Twerp!” Xiao Dejun’s voice came from behind me, yanking me by the straps of my backpack. He was breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath. “Oh my god, we’ve been looking for you everywhere,” he said in between heavy breaths. 

Crossing my arms, I cocked a brow at him. “Why’s that?”

Dejun placed a hand on my shoulder for support. The words came flying out of his mouth, I almost couldn’t catch what he was saying. So much for being a theatre major. 

“Speak clearly, Dejun. Enunciate, articulate, exaggerate, remember? We are thespians and thespians do not mumble!”

The exhausted boy ignored my theatricals. “Naeun didn’t land a switch leap right and she rolled her ankle during advanced ballet. She’s going to be out for at least three to four weeks,” my friend replied breathily, his words a lot clearer than before.

The news shocked me to the core, my feet suddenly planted to the ground. It sounded like he said Naeun was out of commission. “What?” 

“She’s out for three to four weeks! I mean sucks for her, I wish her a speedy recovery but do you know what this means?”

The lack of response from me urged him to continue, “Sweetheart, she’s out. You’re in!”

Oh shit. I was in.

The part I had always dreamed of was mine. The lead role was finally mine.

I was now Ella and Jung Jaehyun was my Prince Topher.

Having an understudy step up to their role halfway through production was always something to get used to. It was a setback, a minor one, but still a setback. Just as Jaehyun finally settled into his role and built an unshakeable bond with Lee Naeun as his opposite, the accident happened. His potential girlfriend was now out of the show and off her feet in order to push for a speedy recovery.

The lovesick boy couldn’t even be there for her because his rehearsal times increased in order to get his best friend adjusted to your new role. There he was, leaning against the piano while waiting for you to arrive.

Professor Lau sat at the bench, flipping through his sheet music until he found the song he was looking for. 

The door slammed open and you stumbled in. “Am I late? I’m sorry, I just heard the news.”

“No, not at all. You’re right on time,” the professor smiled at you. “The situation’s weird, I know but congratulations on getting Ella.”

“Thanks, Professor. That means a lot,” you grinned back. 

Dropping your bag by the piano, you swiftly pulled out the script. You glanced at Jaehyun’s opened book for the page number before hastily flipping through the pages. Jaehyun nudged your side. “Hey, Forky.”

“Hey yourself,” you elbowed him back, biting your bottom lip.

“Congrats, bubs. You did it,” he pulled you into a side hug before ruffling your hair with pride. You had finally gotten a part you wanted. It was your time to shine. As your best friend for many years, Jaehyun had been waiting for the day you could show the crowds your full potential.  

“Did I really do it or did your girlfriend just get injured? How is she, by the way?” 

As much as you tried to play the overdramatic, conceited girl, you never believed in yourself but Jaehyun always did. You deserve the spotlight; your talent was out of this world and the masses were finally granted a chance to see you for what you were— a star.

“You did this. You were made for this part as much as she was,” Jaehyun reassured his best friend with a smile. He tapped your nose. “And she’s not my girlfriend but she’s doing alright. Just in a little bit of pain. I’m going to see her after we finish.”

“Give her some well wishes for me,” you answered. Jaehyun didn’t notice your smile dropping into a small frown.

“You ready to act like you’re in love with me?”

“I was born ready, you doof.” There was something weird in your voice when those words left your lips but Jaehyun didn’t have time to process it.

Professor Lau guided the students through a series of warm-ups before asking, “Shall we start with Do I Love You Because You’re Beautiful today? We’ll do a couple of run-throughs before Jaehyun teaches you the blocking.” His fingers played the beginning notes of the song, the light melody drifting to their ears. 

Already off book at this point, Jaehyun closed his eyes and began to sing.

Do I love you because you’re beautiful? Or are you beautiful because I love you?

Am I making believe I see in you A girl too lovely to be really true?

Do I want you because you’re wonderful? Or are you wonderful because I want you?

Are you the sweet invention of a lover’s dream? Or are you really as wonderful as you seem?

When his eyes fluttered open, Jaehyun found himself facing you with a script in hand. Your face wore the softest look as you stared back at him. His breath almost caught in his throat at the gentle smile you wore. You played the part differently from Naeun and it was a refreshing sight to behold. You were playing a confused peasant but your eyes still sparkled with the gleam of a thousand suns. 

There was a flush of heat that started from his cheeks and extended to his reddening ears. His heart was doing its best to break out of his ribcage and the star of the show wasn’t sure if his chest could keep it in for very much longer.

When singing with him, Naeun was a pretty princess.

But when he sang with you, the girl in front of him? Jaehyun thought you were absolutely breathtaking.

Two hours later, we were finally free of rehearsals. My first rehearsal as Ella. My throat was a bit parched from all the singing and projecting I was doing but I felt lighter than air. Singing with Jaehyun made me feel lighter than air. I was weightless, nothing could hold me down.

“Forky, you’re really good,” he said to me as we walked to our cars. I tried to fight the sudden heat making its way to my face. Lately, compliments from him were hard to come by.

 It was already late when O’Hare and Lau finally let us out, the moon sitting high in the sky. The night breeze crept its way into my thin jacket, causing me to hug myself to retain some warmth. Noticing my struggle with the cold, Jaehyun quickly draped his jacket over my shoulders. I was immediately hit with his familiar scent, it was almost overwhelming. I should be used to this, his action of sharing his clothes with me was nothing new but I was weak. It affected me every single time. I guess I was that head over heels for him. 

Head over glass heels, one could even say.

“You’ve seen me in action before and I mean, I was chosen to be the understudy for a reason,” I gave him a shrug. 

“Yeah but I’ve never seen you act and sing like that. Just...wow.” Stealing a glance at him, Jaehyun almost looked enamored with me. He was giving me a look that was usually reserved for someone else. I felt my heartbeat pick up in my chest and flutters in my stomach.

“Stop that,” I blushed, pinching his skin through the thin material of his long-sleeved shirt. A satisfying buzz ran through my body. Was he really looking at me like that? I was probably reading too much into it.

“No, but it seemed so real. Like you weren’t pretending.”

“That’s because I wasn’t,” I whispered under my breath as we arrived at our cars. 

“Hmm, you say something?” Jaehyun asked, leaning closer to hear me. 

Shaking my feelings away, I ignored the dull ache in my chest and acted through the tears I was desperately holding in. I wrinkled my nose at him playfully, secretly pushing the pain down my throat. “You really don’t listen to a word I say, do you, Jae? I said, I’ll see you later.”

“See ya, Forky! Get home safely!”

Scoffing to myself, I realized how much of a great actor I was. I deserved an Oscar or a Tony for the scenes I played out, the ones where I pretended to be okay when I was far from it. 

What award do you ask? Best Actress in a Supporting Role— the best friend to Jung Jaehyun but never the love of his life.

Wardrobe fittings for productions were always an exciting day for the whole cast and crew. It was one step closer to putting on a show. Jaehyun was already dressed in one of his many costumes, a white suit with golden trimmings. It fit him for the most part, only tiny adjustments were needed. Members of the wardrobe department quickly pinned his neatly pressed jacket before taking it off his hands. Since he was the main character, Jaehyun was one of the first ones done. He was simply waiting for you to come out in your first dress— the white gown for the ball scene in Act One.

When you finally did all those minutes ago, Jaehyun swore his heart stopped. 

Ten minutes ago, Jaehyun saw his best friend walk through the curtains. Your face was bare, hair still in that lazy style you always sported but your clothes. The comfy clothing you usually rehearsed in was gone and replaced by a beautiful ball gown. Despite the pins that scattered throughout the material to fit your form, it still appeared majestic. There you were, standing before him and the rest of the cast, and you were the loveliest you had ever been.

Ten minutes ago, you walked in and his head was reeling. Time slowed down as you tentatively made your way towards him. You did not meet his eyes but Jaehyun was dying to catch your gaze. He never wanted to let you out of his sight. The picture of his best friend in white was something he wanted to treasure and suddenly, the slowness around him stopped. The cast’s cheers and squeals disappeared. There was only you in that beautiful ball gown. 

Was this the slow-motion moment you always talked about? The one you always dreamed about experiencing? Jaehyun could see why people thought it to be magic. It was almost like a movie, movie magic if you will. 

Another look at you and then Jaehyun was in the future, watching you make her way down the aisle. A thin veil covered your face and he was so tempted to push it away from concealing your dazzling smile. His heart was fighting its way out of his chest, wanting to head down the path straight to you. How he wanted to reach out and touch you, cradle you in his arms. 

You were truly an angel in white. A princess. A queen.

The mere sight of you took him to the skies, the one place he was sure you were from. Although Jaehyun would never admit it, he always thought you to be beautiful. Throughout the many years of being best friends, he would find his gaze subconsciously drifting to you. He would rip it away before you would ever notice him doing so, knowing you would tease the hell out of him for it— it was his own little secret tucked away into the corners of his beating heart. 

“How do I look?” Your question snapped him out of his daydream and back to reality. Back down to earth. 

��Sorry, what did you say?” 

“Oh my god, you stupid spoon! I said, how do I look?”

“Lovely,” he answered sincerely, his brown eyes digging into your own. “You look absolutely lovely.”

Ten minutes ago, you simply murmured a question while Jung Jaehyun came to a realization. The realization that he might’ve fallen for you: his Forky, his best friend.

The loveliest girl he had ever seen.

With Cinderella’s opening night being only a few weeks out, you and Jaehyun decided to fit in extra time together to run lines and songs outside of scheduled rehearsals. That was the plan for every weekend and that particular Saturday was no exception to this plan. When his doorbell rang frantically, Jaehyun groaned loudly before getting up to answer the door. Did you always have to be so obnoxious?

Just as the door swung open, your loud voice boomed into his apartment, “‘Sup, ho! Ready to rehearse the hell out of this show or what?”

He stepped aside to let you in and you immediately made yourself comfortable in his humble abode. Jaehyun almost laughed as he watched you. There was a particular routine you stuck to when visiting his place. First, you would take off your shoes, slip on your personal pair of slippers you left at his house, drop your bag on the kitchen counter, and then open his fridge to raid his food supply.

Precisely as Jaehyun predicted, you waddled to the fridge in your memory-foam duck slippers and stole one of his yakults. He loved how comfortable you were in his home. It was truly a heart-warming sight.  The act itself was extremely domestic and he quite liked the domesticity when it was with you. That flash of you in a wedding gown came back to him and he blushed at the thought. The idea of spending a future together was flooding his brain recently and he didn’t know what to do. 

You weren’t the one he liked. Naeun was but why were you the only person on his mind? Was it wrong to have you in his mind? Naeun wasn’t his girlfriend— they were still getting to know each other. His time with her decreased over time since you had stepped into the role of Ella. He was very fond of you. He always had been. There was this little piece of his heart that was reserved for you but was it because you were his best friend or was it more?

Jaehyun quickly snapped himself out of it. 

“First of all, I’m not a ho,” he said before grabbing a yakult of his own. He poked the straw through the foil a bit too harshly, the liquid splashing over the top. Damn his strength— now half of his drink was gone. “Second, stop slut-shaming me for my dating choices. It’s 2021. If I wanted to be a ho, I could be a ho.”

You rolled your eyes as you took a sip of your drink. “God, I hate you sometimes.”

“You need to stop lying to yourself, I know you’re hopelessly in love with me,” Jaehyun said, pointing his drink towards you. He caught you rolling your eyes at his answer.

“Oh, you’re absolutely right. I am irrevocably in love with you, Jung Jaehyun,” you said sarcastically, dramatically batting your eyelashes his way. Your confession, despite being a sarcastic statement, left his heart racing against time. 

“Alexa, play Hopelessly Devoted to You!” you yelled ironically. 

“Now playing Hopelessly Devoted to You by Olivia Newton-John,” an electronic voice boomed across his living room before the opening notes of the ballad began to play. 

“Shit! I forgot you actually had an Echo,” you jumped, not expecting that at all. Jaehyun chuckled at your reaction, loving how easily you scare. He always thought it was one of your cuter traits. 

“Alexa, stop!” he called. 

Jaehyun ran a hand through his hair. He dragged his feet to his bedroom, knowing you would follow without a word. “I can’t rehearse today, I have to write this damned analysis paper for a class. It’s due in two days.”

“I’m sorry, is that paper more important than your best friend in the entire world?” you pushed from behind him.

“Yes,” he deadpanned, taking a seat at his desk. Jaehyun’s study area was an absolute mess. His notebooks were scattered around the floor, textbooks opened to random pages, and his laptop opened to a google document.  

“That’s a motherfucking lie and you know it.”

“I really can’t rehearse now, Forky,” he sighed.

He glared at you as you theatrically fell onto his bed. The notes spread out on his bed flying to the floor. “Oh, woe is me! Jung Jaehyun cannot give me the time of day to rehearse. What am I to do?”

“Why are you like this?” 

“I’m a theatre student, I’m wired to be this obnoxious,” you said with a straight face. 

He stared at you through narrowed eyes. “I really hate you right now.”

“I know,” you countered with a flat tone. “But in all seriousness, Jaehyun. I won’t take too much of your time. I just wanted to practice our duets a couple of times and then I’ll be out of your hair. Plus, you look like you need a break.”

One look at you and he was a goner. How could he ever say no to his best friend?

“Ugh, fine.”

“Ha, I knew you would cave.”

“Shut up.”

The next hour with you was spent rehearsing the numbers. During the last run-through, Jaehyun suggested going over the blocking and putting their all in it. To act like it was opening night. You swiftly agreed and he played the music from the top.

Jaehyun led you around his room, spinning you across the floor as you sang. The smile on your face was so lovely, he could not take his eyes off your lips. His eyes fluttered to a close and he imagined you in your full costume, downed in your gown, as dainty as a daisy and as graceful as a bird. The thought of you dressed like a princess drove him crazy.

He never thought of Naeun this way. This was different. You were different but why?

Jaehyun opened his eyes to see you smiling so gracefully at him as the song was coming to an end. Just as planned in the show, your gaze flitted to his lips. You leaned closer and he followed, dipping his head to meet you halfway. His heart was skipping to its own beat as he inched down. Your soft lips brushed against his oh-so-gently as he held you in his arms but before the boy could press back, the door to his room swung open.

You broke away from him, shocked at the sudden arrival to see your other friend and Jaehyun’s roommate, Dejun. “Oops, was I interrupting something?” 

“I, uh, I gotta go.” Before you could even stop him, Jaehyun grabbed his wallet and phone off his desk and ran out his room. 

Confusion clouded his senses. Why did he feel empty after you pulled away? Why did he want to kiss you so badly? It was just a stage kiss.

Was it not?

Jaehyun’s door slammed shut behind him, leaving me and Dejun in his room. It wasn’t long before we heard the front door close, too. “Well, that was something,” Dejun said after his roommate shuffled out of the apartment.

“Shut up, Xiao Dejun,” I replied, smacking his arm. 

My friend lifted his arms up in defense before he gave me a pointed stare. “I’m just saying, the two of you looked really into it. It looked great, to be honest with you. No notes to give here— I’m sure O’Hare and Lau would say the same.”

“It’s just acting,” I tried to shrug it off. 

“Stop lying to yourself.”

“I’m not!”

“Bulltshit. I saw the way he looked at you— that’s not acting, twerp,” Dejun declared, his voice dropping. His voice never dipped in tone unless he was serious and in that moment, he was dead serious. My friend sounded like a frustrated tutor deliberately explaining a concept for the fifth time and I was the stubborn student who just didn’t understand.

“Yes, yes it is!”

“No, it’s not because that’s how he always looked at you!” 

“Lies!” I yelled accusingly, “We got Liza Minnelli over here!” 

“God, you’re so annoying sometimes! Why won’t you confess? Cat got your tongue? Nothing’s really stopped your sharp tongue before,” Dejun groaned at my stubbornness. He slapped a hand onto my shoulder. I tried to shrug him off but his grip was too strong. Maybe it was him trying to help me get a grip. Who knew? I honestly didn’t. 

“It’s not like I haven’t tried, you know?” An exasperated answer left my lips. I was tired. So ridiculously tired of dealing with these feelings for my best friend. It had been four years since I fell for him. Four years of trying to see other people, four years of trying to confess, and four long years of failing every time.  “I just freeze up like a deer in headlights or like you did when you performed that one monologue sophomore year in voice and movement class. Remember that, Jun?”

I felt his sharp glare burning a hole in my back. “You promised to never talk about that moment, you traitor,” he hissed, his hand squeezing the hell out of my shoulder. 

“Okay yeah but you get the point, right?” My nails dug into his skin, leaving little indents onto his hand. He yelped, finally jerking his hand back to examine it. Shaking my head, I added, “Plus, he’s my best friend. I just can’t do it!”

“So, what you’re saying is that you choose friendship over the possibility of him loving you?” 

“It’s just...I don’t know—” I started, shifting my body to face him, “—choosing friendship means that I’ll only lose love. But if I chose to confess and put my feelings out there, I could lose him as a potential lover and my best friend. I’m not prepared for that. I don’t think I ever will be.”

And there it was again. The self-doubt hit me, imposter syndrome resurfacing at an all time high, bringing me to the lowest of lows. 

The feeling of being a fraud, of being not good enough. 

For Jaehyun. For any love interest for that matter. For the role of Ella. For taking my place under the spotlight. 

“Dejun?”

“Hmm?”

“Am I—am I good enough?”

“For?”

“I—I don’t know—” I stuttered as my mind was consumed by my own crippling thoughts. I tried to stay strong but the crack in my voice gave me away, “—for anything? Everything?” 

“Oh, twerp,” Dejun said in that particular voice and then that was when the floodgates opened. The tears just came pouring down with no sign of stopping. My friend gently pulled me into his comforting arms. They were snug and I felt safe but not as safe as I did in Jaehyun’s hold.

“You, my darling, are definitely good enough. Don’t let your thoughts tell you otherwise.” Although his voice was comforting, it did not help the unhinged thoughts running through my brain. 

“Then, why does it always hurt when I don’t get the role of the leading lady? Of his leading lady? I always get so far and then, at the end of the day, I’m just not what they’re looking for. What he’s looking for.” Pining for something so unimaginable was too taxing. Having the lead role in a play and having Jung Jaehyun wear his heart on his sleeve just for me. 

“Sometimes, the roles aren’t made for you and that’s okay.”

“But what about this one?”

“This one, twerp, this one is a little different.” 

“And why’s that?”

“Because there is music in you; it goes hand in hand with Jaehyun, like a melody to his harmony. You are his Ella and he’s your Topher,” Dejun urged. It was like he was begging me to not give up hope. 

“You’re just saying that.”

“I’m really not. You just gotta do what the theatre gods tell us to do: just trust the process.” 

How could I trust the process when all it did was hurt me by allowing me to have a glimpse of a love and a life that would never be mine? 

Opening night finally arrived. Everyone was called to the theatre for a full run through in the afternoon: the final dress rehearsal hours before the doors opened and the curtains were drawn. I had gotten there earlier to soak in the calmness of the empty auditorium before the chaos began.

I heard heavy footsteps come from behind me. Even without turning around, I knew it to be Jaehyun. The boy took a seat next to me on the wooden prop walls that were locked into the ground. If the stage managers and props committee saw us, they would’ve definitely ripped our heads off but they weren’t— it was just us.  

“Penny for your thoughts, my dear Ella?”

“Topher,” I answered, playing along with his game. “Lovely to see you here bright at early.”

“I knew you would be here and I wanted to be here with you,” he said, pulling me into a side hug. Jaehyun knew me well but did he know me well enough? “Spill it, Forky. What’s wrong?”

“Sometimes I still doubt myself,” I said a little too fast. A loud sigh followed my reveal. The crippling doubt was always there, haunting me. Let me tell you, it was not the best thing in the world to have during an opening for a new production. 

“Oh yeah?” Jaehyun asked, pushing me to continue. I felt the soft brush of his palm against my hand. His fingers grabbed hold of my wrist before fighting their way to tangle with my own fingers. The sensation tickled, taking me away from my thoughts for a fraction of a second. I played with his fingers, watching the way his pinkish hand fit with mine. 

I refused to look at him; I was too afraid of breaking down.“Doubting myself, my abilities. Always the understudy, never the star, remember?”

Jaehyun hummed. He rested his chin on my shoulder. “Did something change?”

“Yeah, I finally realized that maybe it wasn’t that I wasn’t right for the part; the part wasn’t right for me,” I laughed a bit dryly. “Does that make any sense?” 

“Weirdly, yes,” he replied, his breath blowing against my neck. I tried to ignore the tickling sensation and the way it made me feel. 

“But this is different— I feel like I was made to play Ella. Made to play her even though I got the part in this odd, unconventional way,” I turned my head to the side to avoid eye contact. “The girl who sees the good in everything despite the hardships and suffering she went through.”

“Without a doubt, I believe that you belong on stage with me,” Jaehyun answered sincerely, “and I’m glad we have the chance to finally play opposites.” 

He squeezed my smaller palm in support. I appreciated the reassurance; the action slightly calmed me down before she took the next step. Possibly the biggest step of my entire life. “There’s something else I realized, too.”

“Oh yeah, what’s that?” Jaehyun asked softly. 

Taking a deep breath, I said, “I realized that I could be right for you.” 

It took him a minute, a long solid minute before Jaehyun could bring himself to respond to my confession. I wondered what he was thinking at that moment, when those words left my mouth. “Right for me?” came his tentative reply. A quick glimpse at his ears and I saw the burst of red. He was caught off guard, embarrassed. 

“Yeah,” I said almost shamefully. Was I ashamed of my feelings? I never was ashamed before. Maybe it was because Jaehyun finally saw me for who I truly was— his highly dramatic best friend that was head over glass heels for him. 

“How long— how long have you felt this way?” The red of his ears seeped to his rosy cheeks. 

“Ever since we were a dumb pair of utensils,” I replied sincerely, my voice wavering at the truth, “a set of ridiculous tableware.”

There was an awkward chuckle that left his drying lips. I heard him click his tongue, a habit he did when Jaehyun never knew what to say. It seemed like I rendered him speechless. “Since we were sixteen? That long and you didn’t say anything?”

“You’re really asking me that?”

“Yes, I really am!”

“Jaehyun, c’mon. Use your brain! How was I supposed to? You’re my best friend and when you’re not my best friend, you’re out there chasing other girls,” I stopped to lick my drying lips. There was another inkling of silence and I gulped at how tense the atmosphere was. “And I thought maybe once, just once, you would chase after me, too.” 

I almost laughed; my greatest desire was finally out in the world and it was greeted by silence. 

“But what if I’m wrong for you?” 

And there it was. The rejection I was preparing for. Giving him a pained smile that failed to meet my ears, I said, “Then that’s life, I guess.”

“You guess?” 

“Well, I can’t make you act like you’re in love with me, can I?” I snapped, my pain taking the best of me. It clouded my brain, blocking off all rational thoughts out of my head. “This isn’t a play or a movie with a script, Jaehyun. This is real fucking life.” 

Hurt. I was being overwhelmed with a wave of hurt and anguish. My body was trembling as much as my eyes were. I felt them growing wet and I shut them closed. My hands curled into fists, nails digging into my skin. It stung but not as much as being rejected by the one you loved most. The lead of the movie in your mind. 

“Wait, no, that’s not what I meant,” Jaehyun tried to stop me from getting off the stage. I pulled away from him, quickly snatching my belongings before heading to the nearest exit. Turning back around before I left the empty auditorium, I experienced another moment in slow-motion. 

There Jaehyun was in all his glory— denim jacket slipping over his broad shoulders, dark brown hair sticking up in all directions and a confused look on his face. He looked like a mess under the spotlight of my mind but nevertheless, he was my mess of a best friend.

He was my mess of a best friend and that was all he was going to be. That fact hurt more than being the forever understudy. 

Why couldn’t I fast forward this portion of my life? Why must I suffer this much?

Why couldn’t I escape the role of being second best?

If only my life was a movie, then maybe I wouldn’t be everyone’s second choice. His second choice.

If we were in a movie, Jung Jaehyun would be my best friend and my perfect match. Our story would be the typical friends-to-lovers saga that every girl dreams of. It would end happily with the credits rolling to a perfectly timed soundtrack. 

Too bad this wasn’t a movie— this was real life and life came with complications.

After that confrontation, you and Jaehyun were off and not off the charts— just off. The directors noticed it. The stage hands noticed. The cast noticed it. The final run-through before the curtains opened just finished and it was an absolute disaster because of the way you acted with Jaehyun. Every time he opened up his body to you, the response you gave him was closed off. Cold. 

To the rest of the cast and crew, the prince and princess didn’t seem very much in love that day— they didn’t even seem friendly. You and Jaehyun seemed like two strangers trying to work their way across a stage. There was no connection. There was nothing else there. 

Now, if only you would let Jaehyun talk to you, maybe something would change but you didn’t. You ran away every chance you could. It was like Cinderella, but you didn’t leave a glass slipper behind. You didn’t leave anything behind. 

Less than an hour before showtime and he couldn’t even talk to you. Let alone look at you. He sighed into his hand, palms applying pressure to his eyes. Jaehyun cursed under his breath, forgetting that he had a heavy amount of stage makeup on his face. Looking into the mirror, he saw his makeup was still intact. Thank the theatre gods for the Ben Nye Final Seal Setter. It seemed like that it was the only thing set in stone at that moment. 

The door to Jaehyun’s dressing room slammed open and Dejun waltzed in, fully dressed in his costume.“Dude, what was up with you and the twerp during that dress rehearsal? You were so off!”

He received no reply, Jaehyun was too zoned out to hear. Dejun hopped onto the counter of Jaehyun’s dresser. Usually, the action would shock the main lead but Jaehyun was too lost in thought.“Well, you know what they say about a bad dress rehearsal. That means we’ll have a good opening night,” Dejun said, eyeing his friend for his lack of response.

Finally looking away from his reflection, Jaehyun glanced up at Dejun with a look of disbelief. “She likes me?”

His friend jumped off the counter with widened eyes.“Oh my god, did she finally confess? Was that why you were acting weird?”

“Dejun, you knew?” Jaehyun slammed his palms on his dresser. The makeup products on the tabletop shook, leaving the other guy to wince at the show of strength. 

“Honestly for being the ace of the theatre department, you sure are dumb,” Dejun replied a bit too casually as he leaned into the mirror to examine his appearance. He clicked his tongue upon realizing his cheeks didn’t have enough color. The stage lights would wash him out. The boy reached for Jaehyun’s pink blush and a clean wedge before applying it onto the apples of his cheeks.

“What should I do?”

“Well, Jaehyun, what do you want to do?” Dejun asked, turning side to side to double-check his reflection. 

“I don’t know that’s why I’m asking you!” Jaehyun fired back with vigor, hating how casual his best friend was acting. He was having a before-show crisis and his best friend was calmly stealing his bottle of Ben Nye, spraying his beautifully sculpted face with the setting spray.

“Well, do you like her more than a friend? And what about Naeun?”

“Yes? No? I don’t know! But—”

“But?” His friend asked before hopping onto the countertop. The actor raised his perfectly shaped eyebrows at his friend and Jaehyun had the sudden urge to pluck the beauties they were until Dejun had no eyebrow hair left. When Jaehyun didn’t reply, Dejun repeated his question.

Dropping his head in his hands, Jaehyun hesitantly replied, “There was this moment when I saw her and it was like that thing she always said? The slo-mo thing?”

Dejun’s head perked up. “You saw her in slow motion?” 

“Yeah, it was like time stopped. All I saw was her and then…” Jaehyun thought back to seeing you in a wedding dress. He changed his mind; he didn’t want to talk about his feelings. All he wanted to do was make sure opening night ran as smoothly as possible. Grabbing his white suit jacket for the top of Act One, the boy stood up in an attempt to escape his friend’s sudden peak in curiosity. “Never mind, this is ridiculous. I gotta go, Dejun.” 

“No, you’re not going anywhere until you actually confront your damn feelings,” Dejun said, shoving his friend back in his chair. “Do you like Naeun?”

There was a pause before he answered truthfully: “Yes.”

“Okay, and are your feelings for Naeun stronger than what you have for your best friend?” 

“No,” Jaehyun released another sigh as he leaned back in his chair. A hand reached up to brush through his hair before he remembered that it was gelled back in place. He dropped his hand to rub the back of his neck, not wanting to mess with his looks before places. “I was infatuated with Naeun but with her, god, she’s something else and it took me this long to realize it.”

“How do I know you’re not just saying that?” Dejun questioned, squeezing his friend’s shoulders a bit too tightly. Jaehyun thought his friend was testing him and for a good reason. If he was in Dejun’s position, Jaehyun would’ve grilled his friend, too. “How do I know you’re actually in love with her? Yes, you’re my roommate and best friend but she’s my best friend, too. I can’t let you hurt her if all you feel is something temporary. I can’t let you treat her like those other girls.”

“Because she’s The One, Dejun. I’m certain of it,” Jaehyun snapped back. “When I look at her, I see everything I’ve been searching for. It’s like I was blind for the longest time, you know? She was always just Forky to me back when I didn’t know any better. But now I see and all I see is her— her, with all her flaws. The way she hides her insecurities with her dramatic outbursts. How she picks at her cuticles when she’s nervous or how she always steals my food at home. And the way she just fits with me. I can’t explain it.”

Jaehyun didn’t even give his friend a chance to butt in. He was still rambling on with a fond smile, his mouth running a mile. “She’s been there with me since the beginning, Jun. Before I was this prince of the theatre department, she was there. She’s been there since the beginning and even when I was chasing after girls, she was there at the middle of it all, and fuck, I want to go all the way to the end with her.”

Dejun released his hold on his friend and rolled his eyes. The boy made his way to the door of the dressing room before mumbling under his breath, “God, what is with you two and giving out monologues? I swear, when this is all over, you should become playwrights.”

“What?”

“Never mind me, Jaehyun,” Dejun opened the door and gestured for Jaehyun to follow the path— the path down the hall that led to you. “What are you waiting for? Go get her, we have 30 until Joohyun calls for places!”

“Dejun, it’s much more complicated than that.”

“It’s only as complicated as you make it out to be. Just— just go and talk to her, yeah?”

Jaehyun sighed deeply as he reached your dressing room door. He knocked lightly, running through the lines he wanted to say in his head before you shouted a faint “come in.” The door squeaked open to reveal you, his best friend in the whole entire world, touching up your makeup. The best friend that he was inescapably in love with. You watched him through the mirror as he leaned against the frame with crossed arms. 

“Can we talk after the show? There’s something I need to tell you— it’s important. I don’t think I—um, I have enough time to tell you now,” Jaehyun asked, stuttering through his words. Gone was the confidence he usually bared. The only thing left in him was a scared little boy, afraid of the problem his words may cause. 

The smile he received from you did not reach your ears. “Of course,” you replied curtly before turning away from him. He noted how you were over applying your blush and fidgeting with your costume. You were doing everything in your power to avoid him. 

The tugging of your ear, the biting of your lip, the picking of your cuticles. He saw all your bad habits. You were a ball of nerves and the speaker announced it was ten minutes before places.

“Hey, Forky?”

“Yes, Jaehyun?”

“You know that I believe in you, right? Always?”

There was a twitch at the corner of your lips. “I do.”

“Good,” Jaehyun approached you with caution. You watched him from your mirror, never making direct eye contact as he came closer. He dropped a kiss on the crown on your head, relishing in the way his plush lips against your torn bandana and the lace front wig. “Break a leg, my Ella.”

He observed you through your reflection and took in how beautiful you looked in your rags. You made the rags the costume department designed for you look like riches. 

“Same goes to you, my prince,” he heard you answer in that soft tone.  Again, you had sent him to the skies and the boy was struggling to find his way back down.

When it was time to draw the curtains and light the lights for the first performance of Cinderella, it seemed like everything fell into place.  Jaehyun stared at you across the stage, falling for the way the lights illuminated your figure in that white ball gown. The bright glow brought his attention to your bright grin, that beautiful and radiant smile of yours, that shocked him to his core. 

Jaehyun locked eyes with you and suddenly, he was drowning. He was drowning in your expressive eyes. He was drowning in your overflowing love. 

It was different being across from you in front of a full audience. There was a rush that took over him whenever he saw you and it beat the flurries his heart experienced with his other leading ladies. As you said your lines with that bewitching sparkle in your eye, Jaehyun hated himself for not realizing how much he loved you sooner or how you were never playing pretend. 

But that was okay because Jung Jaehyun loved you now. He loved you in the world you made believe on stage, where he was Prince Topher and you were his Ella, and he loved you in reality where you would always be the fork to his spoon. 

Opening night went smoothly and the roaring applause I received during my final bow sent me to the moon. The way Jaehyun looked at me across the stage with eyes filled with pride and joy blasted me to places I had never been before. I became high on this feeling of being under the burning spotlights. The feeling of wearing the most intricate costume and the way his hand slid into mine for the last bow before the curtains were drawn; it was something I wanted to treasure for the rest of my life.

But with every high came a low— my low hit me when I ran into Jaehyun’s dressing room. I caught him in an embrace with Naeun who gifted my best friend with a rose. She placed a kiss on his cheek, causing his white ears to flush a deep red that rivaled the flower he held. The girl gave him a quick shove of the shoulder before heading to me. 

Her congratulatory statement went in one ear and out the other. I could barely process Naeun handing me a rose of my own before she walked out of the room, the sweet scent of her perfume lingering in her wake. She gave my best friend one more lingering look as she left and it hurt me in so many ways.

“Ready to go?” Jaehyun said, clearing his throat. “Wanna stop by the stage first? Soak in your first opening night as a lead?”

“Why the hell not?” The walk back to the stage was short. It felt different somehow.

“We did it,” I whispered.

“That we did,” he answered back. 

We walked onto the stage together and I could still hear the crowds cheering for me, giving me the standing ovation I earned. It was electrifying, the way the sparks ran through my body. It ran from the top of my head to the tips of my fingers and toes. 

Glancing around the empty auditorium, I pondered aloud, “But do you know what sucks about it all, Jaehyun?”

“What?”

“There’s nothing worse than the feeling of not being chosen and it still hurts that I wasn’t the first choice,” I replied truthfully, “Not as much as before. But I’m learning to get over it. The casting directors saw potential in me.”

“That’s because you do have the potential to be a star. You’re practically glowing right now.” I felt his eyes trained on me, just like they were the entire time we shared the stage. 

Turning abruptly to face him, I said, “You really can’t say that to me, you know?”

“And why’s that?”

“Because it makes my heart beat against my chest and these stupid butterflies come around before I remember that you have never chosen me to be your first choice,” I glared. 

“But I do choose you,” Jaehyun pushed, his voice laced with desperation, “That’s what I was trying to tell you before you stormed off on me earlier!”

“Are you really choosing me, Jaehyun? The real me? The me that has been your best friend for years? Or are you choosing the me that shares a stage with you every night? The me that could potentially be your next whirlwind romance?” No matter how desperate he sounded, he couldn’t beat the hopelessness that was dripping from my own voice. 

“No, that’s not it at all!” his voice boomed, the sound echoing throughout the empty auditorium. 

“Then, what is it, Jung Jaehyun? Because I am tired of being second best and I’m tired of not being chosen,” I almost cried. The anguish was just taking over my body and I couldn’t make it stop. “Yes, I know some parts are not right for me but I can’t help but be hurt. And then you say that you’re choosing me? Of course, I’m going to think of it being because I’m your newest love interest on stage.”

“If you could just listen—”

Unable to stop the words from coming out, I just kept running off at the mouth. Everything I wanted to say to Jaehyun was flying out of my lips at rapid speed; I couldn’t even stop it. “I have seen you in slow motion so many times and I want to just fast forward from those moments. To speed past them so I can move on from the idea of not being yours. I refuse to be a temporary love that you lose interest in. I just want you to pick me, to choose me, and to love me, damn it— is that too fucking much to ask for? To be chosen and loved?”

While I was taking a breath to continue with my rant, Jaehyun cut me off and the words he said rattled the stage, the ground beneath my feet, and my whole entire world.“No, it’s not and you are way fucking more than that, if you just take a moment out of your godforsaken monologue and listen to me! I choose you not because you’re my leading lady but because you’re you. You’ve always been this— this incredible, breathtaking you.” 

He took one step closer and I took one step back. “And you’ve the person at my side when no one else is.” 

Every single time I would retreat, Jaehyun would follow. The boy was persistent, his brown eyes trained on me. “The one who figured out you loved me first while I was too blind to see it. You’re the fork to my spoon. We’re a set, we go together. And I was too dumb to figure out that at the end of the day, I always think about you and how no one I’ve ever been with compares to you.”

 When my back hit the wall, I was trapped. Trapped in between his arms and the way they propped themselves on either side of my face. Trapped in the haze of his brown eyes and how they dug deep into my soul. 

 “I don’t see you in slow motion— I see you in fast forward. I see you in the future, my future, walking down the aisle in white and I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore. All I know is that I choose you. I will always choose you.”  

I was trapped by Jung Jaehyun and there was no escape for me. Judging by the way his eyes never let me out of his sight, there was a chance my friend didn’t want to let me go either. He wanted me to stay. 

“Jaehyun, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I love you. You’re my beginning, middle, and my end.”

“You love me? Like you’re in love with me?” Jaehyun heard you ask, like the possibility of being loved by him was so impossible. You were searching for any inkling of doubt but he made sure you couldn’t find any because you were the only thing he could see. 

Jaehyun brought a hand near your cheek. It hovered there as he hesitated to touch it to your skin until you leaned into his touch. Your cheek felt so warm in his palm and it was so comforting to have you in his hold. “I wanted to say it earlier but I was just so scared of losing you as both a lover and a friend because what if it all goes to shit? What if we go to shit and things hit the fan? I can’t lose you.” 

“But you, Jung Jaehyun, are in love with me?” you repeated as your hand cupped his own. The smile you gave him was bright enough to light up the stage. 

“Yeah, I thought I made that clear. I’m sorry, did I mumble that line?” he teased playfully, trying to coerce a giggle out of you. “Should I start the scene over?”

“No, no. I’m just—” you paused and he watched you recollect your thoughts. His glittering brown eyes were trained on you as the words processed in your head. “You love me,” you laughed in disbelief. 

Jaehyun took a step closer, his hand tentatively reaching out to stroke your face. He sighed in relief as you relaxed into his touch. “You’re my number one girl. I choose you.” 

“Well, it’s a good thing that even after all this time, I’ve always chosen you, too.”

Once those words left your lips, he couldn’t hold himself back. Wrapping his arms around your waist, Jaehyun pulled you against his chest and smashed his lips against yours. Yes, he had kissed you on multiple occasions prior to this— onstage and off— but this time was different than the rest.

 This was the first time he really kissed you after your feelings were out in the open.

The first time he kissed you and finally felt the love you harbored for so many years. Jaehyun just hoped you could sense the love he was pouring out for you, too. 

He did not want to let you go but he was struggling to breathe. You were so lovely, everything about you was so incredibly lovely, and to have you in his arms was the best feeling in the universe. Everything around him turned dark and he felt the warmth of a spotlight and the flush of your body against him. The entire world was spinning beneath his feet, his heart racing, and his lips chasing you and only you. 

Jaehyun did not understand why people did drugs— the high of being so ardently in love with another person, with you, gave him the high that he needed. 

He felt you hit his chest in an attempt to end the kiss but Jaehyun did not want to stop. A light shove to his shoulders was enough to separate his lips from yours and what a sight you were— chest panting heavily for air, lips plumped and swollen, and the prettiest set of eyes widened in shock.

“You kissed me!” you said in between pants. “Like not a stage kiss but you actually kissed me!”

“That I did, love,” Jaehyun replied cheekily, taking another step towards you. You stepped back to lean against the wall but did nothing to stop him from coming forward. “Are you gonna do something about it?” 

The look in your eyes changed after you heard his new nickname for you. It was coy. Flirty. Challenging. “Do it again, I dare you,” you whispered a bit too loudly. 

Before Jaehyun closed the distance, his eyebrow perked up at the challenge. “Gladly.”

Senior year was there before we knew it. 

Another year, another posting day. 

Dejun, Jaehyun, and I swiftly made our way down the hall to the front of the theatre department, curious to find out which roles we were given. The spring production and the final musical of our college career was Disney’s Beauty and the Beast. 

Callbacks for Belle went as smooth as ever— the chemistry between Jaehyun and I were off the charts. But why wouldn’t they be? We were together now. 

Just like any other time, the crowds gathering around the cast list and bulletin board parted immediately once they caught a glimpse of Jaehyun approaching. The only difference was that this time, he was tightly clutching my hand. 

When we arrived in front of the board, I shut my eyes before I could read the cast list. An anxious buzz flowed through my veins, tickling the tips of my fingers and toes. My boyfriend must’ve felt the twitching of my fingers or the sweat dripping off my palms. 

I felt his body shift towards me. “Want me to take a peek first, love?” Jaehyun asked as he pressed his plump lips onto the crown of my head. He nuzzled his nose into my hair, a small but sweet action that always comforted me. 

Shaking my head, I looked at him and said, “No, why don’t we look together?”

“On three?” he grinned lovingly.

“On three, you dumb spoon.”

The countdown was quick but the glance I took at the cast list was even quicker. It was so quick, I almost didn’t catch who was put into the role of Belle. Taking a double take, I let go of Jaehyun’s hand as my eyes zeroed in onto the tiny print. 

Everything around me came to a stop as I read and re-read the cast list. Everyone around me was celebrating their parts but I couldn’t hear them, they were all muted in my mind. All I could hear was the sound of my own breaths  and all I could see my name on the top of the page. 

Belle……………..Y/N The Beast……..Jung Jaehyun

“Oh my god, I got the part,” I whispered to no one in particular. Backing away from the board, I repeated the same words a little louder and it got the attention of everyone surrounding me. Before I knew it, everyone threw a congratulations my way. The cheers were loud and obnoxious but they were for me because I did it. I finally did it.

Feeling a little overwhelmed, I backed away from the blustering crowd before bumping into my boyfriend’s firm chest. Jaehyun caught me in his hold, his arms circling around my waist. He dropped his chin on my shoulder and placed a tender kiss on my temple. “Would you look at that? We’re not a ridiculous set of tableware this time.”

“No disrespect to those parts, they were awesome, but I think I like this a lot more,” I giggled, turning in his hold. 

As I circled my arms around his neck, he whispered, “Same here.”

I yanked him down into an earth-shattering kiss that sent the world spinning beneath my feet. It slowed down, speeded up, and it did everything in between. I saw flashes of yellow ball gowns, royal blue coats, and Jaehyun smiling at me gracefully across the stage. 

Jaehyun staring me down from the other end of an altar. 

I saw it all. 

If my life was a movie, then this would be the time that the screen would fade to black and show the names. Some overly poppy song would resonate through the speakers and everyone would get up from their seats and gush over the happy ending.

But it wasn’t. My life was as real as it could be and it was even better than any romantic-comedy that would ever grace the screen. 

This wasn’t the ending. 

This was the perfect beginning. 

AUTHOR’S NOTE. hello, my darling readers! you really didn’t have to wait that long for this release, did you? a big thank you to several people: @johtenrecs for always being my beta and for the helpful feedback, to my chaotic gc ( @smoll-tangerine, @ppangjae, @jaedore​, and @jeongvision) for listening to me complain about how i was losing it while writing this fic, to @suhpressed​ for helping me with brainstorm, and lastly, to my lovely @notnctu bc without her and our crazy idea of hosting a hannah montana collab, i wouldn’t have gotten this idea! love y’all! hope you enjoyed this and please leave feedback! uwu

TAGLIST. @yasmini24 @jaehyunnie77 @emmybyeakitty @fluffyjaes @aevizen @dearjaehyxn @yourmagnanimousholiness @jaehyvnsvalentine @keemburley @softieus @lanadreamie @lebrookestore  @notmangojuice @felixn-recs @captainsjoongs @anotherfullsun @ukiyoneo @kunrengui​ @babyyynatty​ 

© sehunniepotwrites, 2021

[littlefreya]

Prince Of Darkness

Summary: There'll be no escape tonight, the devil always gets what he desires.

Pairing: Devil!August Walker x Unnamed OFC (3rd person pov)

Word count: 6k

Warnings: 18+, DARK! NonCon, kidnapping, stalking, breeding, exhibitionism, loss of virginity, supernatural stuff, sex in a cathedral, mention of heaven and hell. Please proceed with caution. 

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, ideas or parts it and claiming it as your own

A/N: I have put a lot of effort into this story, and I’m really anxious af. We all like to see August as a demon, but I decided to go all the way... And I’m nervous at your response and going to die after hitting submit. So bye.

Many thanks to the love of my life @agniavateira​, for support, brainstorm and beta. And to @crimsonrae​ and @wondersofdreaming​ who held my hand. 

Please give feedback and reblog if you enjoyed my work. 🖤

Title: Prince of Darkness

Blood painted the streets, courtesy of the blinding scarlet lights that danced upon gravel and tar before dwindling into darkness. The soft, beaming glow pulsed with the muffled beats of a monotonous song that played inside the luxurious nightclub. Like thundering war drums, it rumbled in the ears of the elegant man who stood along the shadows. 

Leaning against the cement, he took a sip from a glass of spiced Bordeaux and brushed an index finger over his thick moustache to wipe away misguided droplets of wine. 

‘How could anyone enjoy this abomination?’ He wondered with a guttural groan, never quite grasping this electronic noise thing; but then again August was older than this music, and his tastes far exceeded cheap and trivial antics. He was a man driven by the appetite for destruction and forbidden delights, and tonight, he was finally about to obtain both. After decades of anticipation, the succulent fruit was ready to be plucked. 

Oh, what an intoxicating and delicious mist his unsuspecting beloved emanated, setting his heart aflame with her sheer ripeness.  

‘It’s been so long, so painfully long.’ 

Time had lost its meaning as he waited, curving and swerving into a stream of an infinite river flowing with decay and death. 

But as the old saying went: all haste comes from the devil. 

So the man lingered against the wall, a sparkle enkindled and crackled in his eyes, morphing into black wells whilst the waves of her honey-liqueured ambrosia grew pungent, seeping through his airways and sinking in his throat. The corners of his mouth twitched slightly, revelling in the sound of harsh tapping heels that echoed louder with every step until she came summoned into the naked wilderness of the city street. 

‘Beautiful and innocent as the garden of Eden. Of course, of course...’

The stranger scrutinised the young woman with another sip from his wine and a bite of great intrigue - but stoicism and silence, for now, were his most valuable allies. 

Clad in a lithe black dress and a stylish leather jacket to keep herself warm from the chill autumn breeze, she fished for the mobile device in her purse while distress washed her wrinkling brow. Illuminated by the bright screen, her face sulked as for the seventh time in the last 30 minutes, her attempt to find an Uber bore no success whatsoever. 

Was there something about tonight that all drivers were kept occupied, or had her luck simply run dry? 

Showing her face to the moonlit sky, she sighed in great frustration. This must have been fate’s retribution to a mindless bad decision; she should have left with her friends, but staying alone to fruitlessly catch the eye of the uncaring bartender seemed more significant as the buzz of alcohol dimmed any ray of logic. Now deep into the night, walking home alone didn’t appear to be the most sympathetic solution, yet it occurred to her that there wasn’t much of choice.  

“You seem distressed.” 

Equal to a dark chant sputtering words of witchcraft, the low yet incredibly soft baritone of his voice slithered from the corner and crept down her spine with icy scales. A lurching hollow flared within her gut, her neck seized by the tight grip of a serpentine phantom. 

His vibrato sounded like a voice that called her through a dream she never had before; despite the unsettling arctic spasm gyrating through her shaky limbs, it lured her to return a stare and meet the cryptic face behind the seducing chant. 

Two sharp glaciers glimmered at her as the stranger sauntered into the penumbra, momentarily lit by another flash of neon red that broke onto his face and highlighted his ethereal features. Her lips drew open, her nipples hardening against the fabric of her dress as a shiver ran through her. To say that the stranger was handsome would be an understatement, as it almost seemed as if he was ‘designed’ by a sculptor - carved cheeks led a path to slightly pouted lips, and a stark, dimpled chin was shadowed by dark stubble. His chocolate-brown hair was elegantly combed to the side, with a couple of large lustrous locks gently nestling over his brow.

Though it wasn’t his good looks that left her riddled with prickly goosebumps, but the unprecedented magnetic haul that made her feel as if she was physically drawn toward this mysterious man. 

Frightened by the unbidden reaction of her own body, she quickly retreated to gawk at the phone and provided no answer to his inquiry. A strange yearning to submit grew between her clenching thighs, a primal response to his striking looks and charms. 

But she killed the seed before it set roots in her flesh. 

‘They said Ted Bundy was charming as well…’ she mused. Frivolous as she wanted to be, getting murdered was undoubtedly not among her plans tonight. 

Revelling in her silent reply with an arched brow, he tilted his head when a blinding flicker abruptly caught his keen eye. Kissed by the pale moonlight’s beam, a small silver cross rested upon her collarbone. His sharp fangs begged to peek with sardonic amusement, but he kept his lips clamped, not wishing to scare her too soon. 

There was to be plenty of that later...

“May I offer you my help, sweetling?”

Threading his long fingers between the smooth stem and clasping them around the bowl, he lowered the glass to the side of his hip, dragging the girl’s unwilling eye to the healthy bulge in his groin. 

Her lips drew open as a surge of staggering heat flushed at her apex. 

It seemed enormous... 

“Name’s August, like the emperor, but you can call me whatever your heart desires...”

Embers burnt at her cheeks; in her belly, the odd mystical calling continued weaving at her core in an urge to accept whatever it was he had to offer. Her eyes warred to tear her gaze away from his nether region as her lashes fluttered to meet the abysmal glance that bestowed both frost and fire through her tendons. 

There was something archaically familiar about this man as if she knew him before the days had names. Yet she swore, it was the first time she ever saw his striking face. 

“I can take you wherever you need to go.” 

Breath laced with wine titillated her nostrils as the words spilt from his lips, whilst another crimson ray broke upon the marble of his face. Never had he urged, but instead suggested with a tongue soaked with honey. Still, a blazing aura of danger encircled him. And even though the very natural fear of walking home alone grappled her, it still seemed like a much better plan than entrusting her life to a stranger who was twice her size. 

Deciding to keep her tongue knotted, she turned and began striding away. ‘Best not to engage him,’ she thought, but once she moved past his bulky figure, her heart suddenly picked up its pace and her legs refused to function as if they no longer belonged to her. 

Seconds stretched into eternity. The thought that this civilised savage will assail her and drag her into the night scratched at the back of her head. But the worst of it was the simmering throb. Unforgiving, like gathering storm clouds, it thundered the closer she walked by him and then gradually died out as she finally managed to move away and free herself from this invisible bond. 

Savouring the final drop of wine, August watched amused as the frightened little lamb quickly oscillated on her feet, scampering into the horrors offered by the dark. It was funny how fear made animals act so heedlessly and rush straight into the burning heart of peril. 

A toothy grin peaked his chiselled cheeks. Always the gentleman, he shifted from the concrete, discarding the glass carelessly to shatter on the sidewalk. His sinew stretched in a relaxed ripple of an apex predator before he straightened both vest and jacket and stroked his thick moustache. 

Though her heavenly fragrance still soaked the air, the girl was already gone from normal eyesight. It was a pity to see her leave, yet there was no need for him to rush.

There was never really a choice for her. 

Strangely, the night kept growing unnaturally darker. A great ocean of blackness and crystalised stars spread from above, casting looming shadows across the tall buildings that resembled a maw filled with rotten teeth. The tepid wind that blew between the vast concrete monoliths was nothing but the breath of a mythical beast intoning her name through the shadows.

Clawing at her forearms, she meandered through the inert street with a wary eye. Desolate neon signs flickered hauntingly, bequeathing a vibrant beacon of dread over the shimmering, onyx road. Not a living soul was in sight as if the world descended into stillness, dominated by an eerie, dead silence save for the harsh echo of her hasty heels. And yet, the long path felt anything but lifeless. With every step landed on the ground, she could sense the movement beneath the surface: swarming vile things, slippery and scaled. Unseen by the human eye, they hissed dirty little secrets and slithered with sinister hunger, drizzling down their fangs. 

‘You can already feel me inside you, can’t you sweetling…’ Remaining hidden, he had to admit that watching the little lamb leap shivering into the slaughter has been somewhat of foreplay.

A veil of fumes emitted from her parted lips. The air became colder, summoning a terrifying truth that made her lungs clench around the black void that abruptly filled them with the notion that maybe... maybe… that chill, liquid-like thing that threatened to touch her ankle wasn’t just in her crazy imagination.

There was something out there, something undeniably familiar. This unusual gust of wind brushing at her nape has accompanied her since she could remember herself, an unsettling breeze bidding that evil lurked between the creases, holding its sinewy fingers clasped together while waiting for her to answer his hushed calling.

‘And once you finally answer, there is no turning back…’ 

Fear gnawed its frosty fangs at her bones, puncturing tiny painful cavities that were needles in her flesh. Tonight, of all nights, the same hazy feeling became stronger than ever before. Deep inside, she knew she would meet her end. Pressing the oily pads of her fingers at the sharp corners of her pendant, she inhaled and chanted a prayer, refusing to succumb to the noxious malice when a frozen pin pierced her heart.

Like the lark calling on the dawn, an unbidden chant carried her name.

Drenched with frigid sweat, she exhumed a shuddering breath, praying to God that it was only her imagination playing tricks on her ears. 

‘The greatest trick he ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist.’

Indeed in the darkness, leered the beast. All teeth and malicious glee, August moved from one shadow to another, feasting on the aphrodisiac that was the mixture of her harrowing terror and unveiled desire. If only she knew the trail her scent left for him to follow - he could smell her from miles away. 

The little flower between her legs began blooming the moment their entities finally encountered one another, and it was his ancient name her dew had dripped for.  

‘My sweet little thing, tonight I will finally grant you a purpose...’ 

Like a hound awakened from a deep slumber, he flexed his bulging muscles and tailed her in utter silence. The same spell that burnt in her core seethed the blood gathering in his ardent loins. Since the dawn of humankind, he had more women than any other man on this earth, yet none has evoked such hunger in him. 

He would have eaten her alive and torn her to shreds if only he didn't have bigger plans for her.

Still hidden by the unnatural night, August stalked from behind, the blaze of his enkindling burn licking her path as he crept further to ensnare his prey. He wished she could see herself through his own flaring glance, how beautiful she was with tears of despair rolling down the tender slope of her cheeks. 

His beloved girl; his, by ancient law. Spirited as a rageful tempest, she insisted on escaping her prophesied fate. Muscles and bones strove against the panic that turned her boiling blood frigid. But no power, physical nor divine could revoke this otherworldly attraction that bound her to him. His bidding could never be undone and as much as his blood relished from the thrill of the chase, it was time to put an end to this dance and seal their union. 

Appearing from a stygian haze of a spectral nightmare, the beast drew his claw to grasp the fleeting girl’s shoulder.

The world froze along with the scream that died in her throat. Cold, slippery wet, the phantom serpents slinked around her ankles and held on to the ground as the thing behind her bit his nails into her collarbone. His touch was no ghost, but as real as the quiet moon that voyeured her fate from above and did nothing. A wretched gasp of anguish shuddered through her airways as his fingers stalked forth to cinch at her neck. 

His grip was tighter than the icy finger of death, yet its caress was the sensual lick of a gossamer tongue. 

It was almost as if he worshipped her. 

Shadows befell her as the assailant leaned close, wafting a mist of intoxicating fumes scented of poisonous elixirs and an ancient forest that laid deep between the veils of the underworld, hiding forbidden mysteries that none dared speak of. Seeping through her orifices, it stung her eyes and raked remorseful tears. 

“Please…” she broke into sobs, shaking her head at the dawning of her fate.

The man inhaled deeply. Though she could not see him, the joyful malice that danced on his pleased breath roared in her ears.

“Do not fear me.” The sonorous rumble caressing her ear was hardly a surprise in its familiarity.  It was him, the handsome bewhiskered gentleman from earlier. But of course, it was always him: the whisper in the dark, the slithering things moving beneath the tepid ground, and the smell of burning pyres. 

But who the hell was he?!

As if he read her mind, his hand twisted around her nape and with a careful sway, turned her to face him. The voice inside her head warned her over and over again not to look at him; yet the temptation was too great, peeling her eyes open to stare at the thing that made her heart drop to her gut.

Vast, raven wings spread from each side of an Adonis figure, their intimidating length denying her widened eyes to look at anything but the dark god that soared tall in front her. No, not a god, a devil. A pair of small golden horns peeked from the mane of long curls, and the heavenly icy gaze she remembered from earlier had melted into an abysmal lake of fire.

He was beautiful.

He was monstrous.

And just like that, she descended from the earth, swept into a thick swamp of darkness that swallowed her whole. Never letting so much as her feet kiss the ground, August scooped her into his strong arms. Peering down upon her, he broke into a delightful grin, already enamoured with his delicate new bride. The pang of lust tingled in his groin, though despite the raging need to claim her now, it was her screams he desired more than all as he would consummate their eternal marriage. 

Wicked tongues of fire licked up the shallow air, casting a faint amber glow into the abominable sombre of a vanishing nightmare. Shy as feral nymphs, the bursting sparks ascended melancholily, whispering tales of perishing days that fell to harmony with a strange mumbling chant. Still locked in a void of unconsciousness, the fallen girl shifted with disquiet, her hands restlessly clutching at a virginal silk gown that covered her body. 

Vaguely remembering a horrifying dream of a demonic entity, she woke with a sudden electric jitter. A peal of breathless pants pushed through her heaving chest before she slumped into the intense relief one experiences from a brush with either death or a ghastly fantasy. 

“Thank God…” she whispered with a fist pressed to her breast.

Yet, something was amiss. The low vocal melody continued despite her state of clarity, tangled with the eerie presence of a hundred cutting glares that stabbed her crawling spine. Slowly and carefully, she lifted her head and scanned her surroundings. 

The blood drained from her face.

Swaying like shadowy wraiths stood men cloaked in black velvet hoods. Tears of milky boiling wax trickled from the candles held by their stringy fingers, yet they didn’t seem to flinch as the burning rivulets seared their flesh. Their hollow eyes were fixated upon her while words of a dark sacrament sputtered from their lips and reverberated through the endless archways and ribbed vaults that towered above them. 

Her trembling muscles were briskly stifled under the unsettling realisation of her whereabouts - a cathedral, a thousand years old if not more. Burning torches lit crumbling pillars and statues of monstrous winged creatures that encircled them from every niche, their malicious shadows dancing upon dusty obsidian bricks. Unglazed windows were barred by black iron, the beautiful floral shapes preventing any means of escape. 

Only the fractured ceiling held a cheap shred of hope, as a vast rupture of broken stone exposed her to the scarred carmine wolf-moon.

If only she had wings…

Bones rattling beneath her crawling flesh, she sat upon the hard surface with wells of despair. Her hands clutched around the edge of the bed, only to be kissed by the sharp corners that pierced the delicate flesh. Hissing with pain, she lifted her arms and stared below at what appeared to be a midnight-black marble creased with golden veins and saplings-like patterns. 

It was beautiful, just like the creamy gown that covered her body.  

“Do you like it, bride?” 

Rising from the crowd like a flame among charred coals, appeared her handsome abductor. Suitable to a true evil prince, a long red cloak enrobed his broad, sturdy form, the velvet hem trailing behind him like a thick river of blood while he marched forward with no haste in his dauntless mien. Human once again, August offered the most endearing grin; two profound dimples embellished his scruffy cheeks, and his eyes shone brighter than a frozen sea. 

Yet in her sullen gaze, he was nothing but a monster.

Abruptly enraged and driven by pure instinct, she jumped off the marble and paced backwards. Tears of anger and fright rimmed her swollen lids and her bare feet nearly collided as she shook her head at August who was neither impressed nor concerned by this foolish protest. 

“You stay the fuck away from me!!!” She warned with a scream and hastily turned away. 

Lost in some trance, the praying mob never stirred, granting the girl a fair chance to escape the bewhiskered man who was still several strides away. Her feeble legs made three to four steps when her muscles swiftly turned to stone, and her stomach lurched. 

‘No! It couldn’t be! How?!’

Curls shining like precious coils of onyx, August emerged in front of her, continuing his relaxed gait as if this was a natural occurrence. His bright icicles melted into malicious dark pools of twisted desire, and his tongue briefly laved his plump lips at the sight of pure disbelief that cascaded over her face. He could feel right under her skin, hear the thrumming heart that both chilled and fumed for him. Further beyond her thoughts, his betrothed yearned to be defiled and torn open by him. 

It was her destiny, whether she liked it or not. 

Still she fought, so ferocious and defiant, flinching away from his attempts to seize her. It was almost comical to watch her deny him, knowing that her fate would be no different; she will spread her legs and submit to his conquest. And yet, her battle was immensely appealing; what better bride to the dark lord than a woman who breathed fire.

“Who are you?!” She cried, her trembling voice rising with panic and her cheeks soaking with tears, “What do you want from me?!”

August's face was devoid of mercy, her whimpering hisses did nothing to deter him and only further increased the appetite of the deprived wolf that circled in his gut. With a wring of his wrist, his fingers snapped at her elbow, hauling her against his rock-hard chest with such might her heels hovered above the ground. 

Writhing in his grip she flung her hands at his face, clawing streams of crimson to trickle down his cheeks. The notion of hurting this vicious man brought somewhat of a sick joy; but her onslaught died at once, and her mouth fell agape as his skin healed with not even a trace of injury. 

“Oh God, what are you?!” She shuddered. 

Still holding her elbow hostage, his free hand travelled to the hem of the white gown, the long, perverted fingers twisting around the fabric before yanking it off at once. A resounding rip echoed through the tall arches, causing the chanting choir to halt their susurrations at once. 

All eyes were afloat as the cold air kissed her skin. In vain, she attempted to cover herself only to be felled by the restraints of August’s grasp. 

“God?...” The man finally spoke, his melodic voice ending with a sonorous hum that sprouted through her arteries like a deadly toxin. Not less poisonous, his gaze trailed down her form, worshipping the very sights of his delightful prize. 

“Not God, but once I was an angel,” he suggested and leaned down to inhale her skin with a gratified growl before he flicked his wide tongue at her chest.

A groan of approval emitted from his lips, the sheer coat of sweat that layered her bosom was soaked of freshly brewed fear, his most favourite savour. His wet, velvety snake swept the sweet-briny wetness and licked further down her breasts, twirling around the erect nipple.

Unintended, she moaned. A river of delights rushed between her grinding thighs.

“No!”

Wrongful, unwanted bliss awoke in her. She felt desecrated and allured at once. Her fickle body deceived, mistaking this vile conquest as consensual. And the more August took, the more she desired; her dutiful womb demanded to consummate this bond, almost as if the beast had bewitched her a long while ago, embedding his essence in the marrow of her bones. 

August grinned against her skin, the scent of her arousal fresh in his nose while his lips travelled to kiss down her sternum and the slope of her torso. His thick whiskers left a trail of fluttering butterflies.

“Have sympathy, my love. I had built my own realm and waited in the forlorn abyss. Empires fell and worlds disintegrated into ashes while I waited for thou,” he explained and clutched the cheek of her behind in his claw, squeezing it possessively. “I have longed for your touch since the day your ancestor promised you to me, little lamb. A hundred years’ worth of waiting for the bargain to reach its end, and for you to finally be ripe.” 

The beast pressed one last languid kiss below her navel, a guttural hum exuded in between his lips, huffing hot against her belly. Slowly he rose to his full height, towering above his helpless victim who hugged her arms to cover her naked body and watched her nightmare unfold once more. Cold wind chilled her damp cheeks as August flung the blood-red cloak and exposed his naked figure before her.  

He was massive, a masculine build fit for a warrior angel, covered with thick bulging muscles and dark hair. Lips parted, she forgot herself, gawking in awe and allowing her gaze to trail down to his unapologetically monstrous cock. Firm and throbbing, it dripped with hunger, urging to find release inside her clenching cavern.

She didn’t even know a man could be this vast, but alas, he was no man at all.

It was at that moment when blackest wings spread before her that realisation finally struck through like a blunt hammer to the back of her head. Covering her mouth she cowered away, her exposed back hitting the raised altar behind her. 

August was no man nor god, but Lucifer himself. 

Seeing the hope die in her eyes, the devil sneered. 

“No, no, no! This can’t be real! This isn’t real!!!” She yelled, pathetic little hiccups sputtering from her lips.

August tilted his head, giving a scornful pout and scoffed with amusement. “Am I not?” He asked as he lifted an arm to flick his fingers, summoning two of the hooded servants to approach the dais. Their eyes were soulless gems embedded to a grey face that was cracked like a broken eggshell. 

“I am real, beloved, as real as the child you will conceive me tonight.” 

Shrills of terror flew through the great hole in the ceiling. Kicking and screaming, she fought as the men seized her arms and dragged her to the altar, forcing her flat down and holding her arms to prevent her from escaping. They never blinked at the ferocious war she waged against them, though an impish smile slowly possessed their faces as their master strode forward. 

“Sweet little lamb,” August chanted, enamoured with his fiery bride while he sauntered by the edge of the altar. His Adonis body golden in the candlelight, his fingers squeezed and pumped the ravenous demon that hung heavy between his legs. The twinge in her womb rose in response, a low roar thrumming as it yearned to succumb to its unbridled purpose. Sheen, the arousal trickled between her kicking legs and onto the smooth stone, making her cheek flame.

Much to August’s pleasure. 

“Our son will burn this world to cinders,” he promised and snaked his fingers at her ankles. Calmly deflecting her attempts to kick against him, he dragged her toward him until her knees folded over the edge and spread between his thighs. The platform was in the perfect height, positioning her delicious Eden at the height of his blessed demon. 

“You will make an excellent mother.”

Her entire body shook, her cunt clenching along her sobs in both defence and beguiling need as August leaned in and grazed the silky pink crown between her wet petals. She begged he wouldn’t be able to invade her, but her prayers fell to deaf ears.    

“Please don’t do this to me! I will do anything… please!” She wailed a bargain, still trying to escape the servants’ grip and looking at him pleadingly, “I… I...haven’t been with a man!”

“Oh I know…” August beamed and stroked himself back and forth between her engorged lips. Vamping flames tingled at her flesh, her core foolishly squeezing around nothing in demand for this wretched monster to defile her.  

“You’ve kept yourself for me, didn't you? I have waited for you too, for centuries even, but now our waiting has ended, and I can finally love you.”

With one brutal thrust, he breached through the gates of her sacred haven, corrupting her purity and ripping her open with the elegance of a savage. 

Exasperated bats fluttered their wings over the red moon at the sound of her pained howl. Eyes flared to the bleak sky above; the girl watched them in a daze, disbelieving the blazing demon that scorched her from inside as he nestled himself between her resisting gates with no intention to cease. 

In his villainy, August pushed further. Stunned thunders of ecstasy erupted from his lips, all to humiliate her along with the dark minions who circled the altar to pervertedly witness this sacrilegious ritual in which their master ravaged the unwilling maiden. Ignoring her body’s vehement protest, he forced himself unfathomably deep, only stopping until the head of his cock kissed the gateway of her cervix.

Crystalised tears rolled down her temples and stained the cold marble beneath her body. Slit impossibly sore, she twitched and sobbed at the overwhelming feeling of being invaded by another entity. Her once protected realm was now under the domain of a ruthless prince, and he took no prisoners and granted no mercy nor care at her vain endeavours to push him out. 

He would never stop. He would have her again and again until her sacred little womb would be plentiful with his seed. 

“Tight,” he blurted out in a blissful huff and reached his talons to bite into her quaking thighs. Spreading her wider, he hooked his hands below her knees, moulding her into a vessel to be fulfilled. Arctic orbs glazed down her naked figure, his plump lips cooing at her aching whimpers. The taut and hairy muscles of his gut flexed as he carefully withdrew his vicious cock, coated in the crimson sorrow of her maidenhood.

Hollow pain throbbed in her empty cunt as he suddenly abandoned her. Distressed and overwhelmed, she hoped he would stay out, yet her traitorous body coveted his return in a false faith that it would ease the fervid twinge that soared to her belly and even burnt in her breasts.

It was far from true.

No less vigorous than before, August plunged back inside her, stretching her again, shaping her as his own as she yipped and struggled to escape. His head threw back with a roar of divine pleasure, feasting at the thrill of her dauntless veils wrapping around him like a succulent flower. For a moment there, he wondered who preyed on who. Her concupiscent little cove sucked him so wantonly it threatened to swallow his raging cock. 

‘But of course, every virgin is destined to become my whore.’

Hot and heavy, his shaft seized the void that had always been inside her, their heaving organs collided in euphoric bliss like two broken shards that were lost for decades and finally pieced back together. And even though she seared with every jerk or shift he made, the impassioned flames licked at the seams of her twitching cunt in waves of ache and foreign desperation. 

“No…” she whispered, shame singeing her throat as the little pesky sparks enkindled where the devil had violated her. Vision blurry, she gazed at him utterly mystified. Part of her warred to stoke the fire that screamed heresy, while the other begged to yield to her demise.   

As August pulled away again and thrust harder, a breathless moan tore from her lips.    

A cutting grin radiated onto his face. “It feels so good inside you,” he sang and slid one hand to stroke all the way down from her sweat-ridden thighs to her belly, feeling the movement of his cock with every push and shove. 

He was taunting her, yet she couldn’t care less. Over the cinders of pain and virtue, a garden began to bloom. With every abysmal stroke of his swelling shaft, she could feel green saplings and coy vines growing within her uterus—soft, beautiful tendrils stalked through her arteries, sprouted through her cove, and engulfed his swelling demon as well.

She was no longer burning but becoming alive. Pained cries suddenly evolved into asphyxiation of bliss. Beyond her realisation, she undulated her hips in the desire to endure each of his wet claiming thrusts. Her spine coiled against the surface, further allowing him easier passage to nourish the wilderness that continued spreading through her blood. 

Noticing the change in her, approving groans rumbled in his throat; his little bride was growing tighter around his demon, her quivering lips and fluttering lashes the image of true Elysium. It was not long before he would plant his seed in her fertile lush. Her cunt milked and suckled around him, demanding to be bred by the devil. 

“Yes, my love! Give in to me! Give in to your primal sin!” August urged, enhancing the rhythm until he was thrusting into her like a battering ram, the sinful elixir of their union smearing on his groin and dripping down her rump. “Descend with me!” 

In her delirium she witnessed magical nightshades and sinewy stalks growing amidst the gritty bricks, encompassing the ominous cathedral with bright colours. 

It was paradise on earth, given to her by the unearthly rapturous joy of having this demon violate her, slamming harder with growing frustration until his thick girth ripped through the last threads of her self-preservation and that which she tried so hard to deny erupted through her clenching core.

Euphoria. 

For a lingering moment, she had wings of her own, pale as precious pearls and lustrous stars. Tingling waves of ethereal white heat burst at her seams, purifying her as she flew above the cathedral, and watched their ungodly union from above. But her wings suddenly caught aflame and before she knew it, she crashed onto the earth with a secondary, more violent climax. 

The beast’s roars erupted into a brutal thunder, causing the sturdy pillars of the cathedral to quake and crack like thin glass. With all his might, he clutched her thighs and hauled her against him, slamming his swollen cock deep into her belly and releasing his smouldering, milky essence until it seeped from her sleek. August’s wings flew open as he found his own rapture, blazes following through and consuming the ancient hall. 

This was no longer a hallucination. 

This was Inferno.

Still radiating with orgasmic glow, she screamed horrified as everything around them vehemently burnt to coals. Even the soulless servants crumbled into dust, accepting their fate without so much of a yip. The fire raged and died within seconds, leaving nothing but broken pillars and ashen smoke.  

Shortly, the tepid air of night caressed her naked skin as they remained alone in the ruins of what was once an ominous cathedral. Still buried in her viscera, August broke into a low, stretching groan of relief which made her immediately return her eyes to him. Shame rose bitter in her throat and new fresh rivulets trickled on her cheeks.  

After all that he had done to her, she could see nothing in him but a beautiful monster.

“My beloved queen,” August keened to comfort her and moved his hand to tenderly stroke her lower belly. 

A toothy smile broke upon his face, his eyes gleaming with surprise as he felt the life that had already begun growing in her angelic fortress. A son, strong and glorious as his father. For the first time in his long existence, the devil was truly elated and he vowed in that moment that he would give her much, and much more. But first, she needed to be cared for. 

Her assaulted hole convulsed with pain as he pulled himself out, leaving a trail of creamy fluids to dribble at his departure. Sniffling and shaking, she watched him bemused, as he climbed onto the altar and moved to lie beside her. Though she no longer flinched as he touched her, what was the point of it anyway? He had already destroyed her and stolen her innocent soul.  

“You make me so happy, my beloved queen,” August had murmured as he gripped her jaw and pressed his lips to hers. His kiss claimed her breath, pillaging whatever left of her chastity and wit until she absentmindedly kissed back, forgetting herself as his tongue bested her will. 

When he broke away, the taste of spiced ruby wine and blood lingered in her mouth. 

“An eternity awaits us,” the devil explained as he pecked her nose and her forehead lovingly, to which she shivered - out of fright or out of want, she couldn’t tell the difference anymore.

“You had made me the happiest, now give me the chance to grant the same favour, ask for anything you want in the world and it shall be yours,” he begged and wrapped her in the shelter of his strong arms to lie down with him on the smooth stone surface.

Absentmindedly, she welcomed the protection offered from his embrace and stared silently as flakes of cement broke from the remnants of the wall floated in the air around her before she opened her mouth. 

“I wish for…” 

Her whisper faded into the dark.

*Disclaimer: I do not own Mission Impossible or August Walker

Beautiful dividers by @firefly-graphics​