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sjsmith56 · 5 months

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For Once and For All, Chapter 24 - Eyes of the Father

Summary: Bucky and the Dora Milaje figure out a way to defeat the traffickers at the castle. His return to Barton’s farm sets the stage for the next phase of his and Lacey’s life.

Length: 5.2 K

Characters: Almost everyone.

Warnings: Minors - DNI - contains sexual content, p in v, praise, and minor dominance. Violence causing injury.

Author’s note: More heroic Bucky, followed by romantic Bucky. Everyone knows you don’t mix bleach and ammonia. I figured if the two ingredients were put into a pressure cooker and heated to a dangerous level the gas released would do a lot of damage. I found a reference on the internet that a Dora Milaje spear could release a significant electrical charge so made that the means of heating up the pressure cookers.

<<Chapter 23

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Several of the other captives who were listed in the catalogue as agents had listened to Ayo's assessment and began checking the kitchen, beginning with the stoves and ovens. They found all the knives were gone and the gas lines all turned off with no way to start them back up. They looked through cupboards; one of them came back with two containers, bleach and ammonia. Bucky looked at him and shook his head. That would kill all of them just from the fumes if they mixed them. Another one brought the first aid kit to Ayo and Bucky took his jacket, then dress shirt off so she could remove the four bullets that had managed to hit him in the right shoulder and his back, three embedded and one graze. Meyer, the former HYDRA scientist noticed the different arm.

"How did you get a new arm?" he asked. "What is it made of?"

"The Wakandans made it for me in 2018," replied Bucky, "before the Blip. It's vibranium."

"Doesn't vibranium absorb energy?" he asked Ayo, who nodded as it was common knowledge. "Can a small piece from the Soldat ... sorry, Barnes' arm absorb enough energy then release it to blow this wall out and take out anyone waiting outside for us?"

"Only if it is hit hard enough to destroy the piece, releasing the energy in the process," she said. "How would we do that and keep ourselves safe?"

"This kitchen isn't part of the chateau," replied Meyer. "It is an addition to it. Look at the doorway we came through. It was cut through the original outside wall. We wait in the salon, inside the castle. There has to be a way to feed energy into some vibranium, then trigger a heavy enough weight to fall on it causing it to release its energy and destroy this outside wall."

"Electrical power?" asked one of the agents. "We can connect the power supply to it."

"Vibranium conducts it," said Ayo, "then dissipates it."

"I can hit it," said Bucky, looking around then spying a fire extinguisher. "If I hit it enough times with a heavy object like the fire extinguisher it will reach a critical mass and explode. It means I'll have to remove one of my fingers to provide the vibranium then risk injury from the blast."

"You would remove your own finger?" asked Meyer. He shook his head, both impressed and bothered that Bucky would make that sacrifice.

Ayo shook her head and smiled at Bucky. "That won't be necessary," she said, as a thought occurred to her. "Our spears are vibranium. Together Nomble and I can generate an electrical discharge from the base of our spears. If we mix that ammonia and bleach into a sealed pressurized container, then aim our electrical beams at it to heat up the mixture to the right pressure the resulting explosion should take out that wall and anyone standing near it. You won't have to mar the workmanship of the technicians who spent months creating your arm."

She said the latter with a little smile and Bucky smiled with her. "Okay, we just need something that we can pressurize to hold the ammonia / bleach mixture," he said. He looked around and grinned. "This is a kitchen. There has to be a pressure cooker."

Everyone spread out to search the pots and pans. They found two pressure cookers. Getting everyone back into the salon, except for himself, Ayo and Nomble, Bucky positioned the cookers on the outside wall, near the gas lines, hoping there was enough residual natural gas in them to explode. He divided the ammonia equally into the pressure cookers. Bucky poured half the bleach into the first pressure cooker and quickly sealed it with the lid. He coughed briefly saying he did get a whiff of the fumes. Then he poured the remainder of the bleach into the second pressure cooker, sealed the lid immediately and placed the two pots beside each other. He looked at Ayo.

"How close do you have to be?" he asked.

She shrugged slightly. "Unknown," she replied. "It's about twenty feet to the salon. Let's try half that distance."

"I'm going to grab your clothing from behind," he said. "As soon as it looks like it's going to blow I'm going to yank you both backwards, hopefully fast enough and far enough away that none of us will be injured. You ready?"

He had already tossed the rifle to Meyer in the doorway, and he stood behind the two women, firmly grasping their clothing. Then he began to count down from five. At the count of one both women activated the electrical charge on their spears and aimed it at the pair of pressure cookers. It only took about 10 seconds before Bucky realized he could hear a rumble coming from the pressure cooker and he began to walk the two women backwards away from the two pots, telling them to keep up the charge. To his ears the rumble grew louder and he suddenly yanked both of them through the doorway into the salon, all of them falling backwards. The resulting explosion was spectacular, taking out the entire wall of the kitchen. Bucky sat up and saw the carnage outside as it seemed there had been a small army waiting for them. Most of the guards were laid out in various states of injury. Standing up and taking his gun back from Meyer he stepped gingerly through the debris and advanced towards the injured. As he checked the various chateau guards he noticed a man in a military uniform lying face down. Pulling him onto his back Bucky recognized General Viktor Orlov who was alive but in no shape to give orders. As the other captives joined him outside Bucky aimed his rifle at Orlov, noticing he was coming around.

"General," he said to the man at his feet. "I await your total surrender."

The General sneered at Bucky. "Soldat," he spat. "By now, my people have your woman and your son. I await your surrender."

"Yeah, no you don't," said another voice that came from the sky. Bucky looked up to see Sam landing. "Sorry, General, that little stunt you pulled at the farm didn't work either." He smiled broadly at Bucky. "Nice work, Buck. That explosion lit the sky up for miles. Made it easy to find this place. We've got emergency services en route. Why don't you lead your party out to the front to be treated. You just broke one of the biggest Russian mafia outfits. They may have to build a second Raft just for them." Bucky turned to lead the others and Sam touched his arm. "Put a shirt on will you? You're making us normal guys look inadequate."

Both men grinned and patted each other on the shoulder. By the time he and his group walked around to the front the ambulances were there. Bucky allowed himself to be checked over and one of the paramedics gave him a scrubs top to put on. Both Ayo and Nomble had contusions from the explosion debris that hit them as he pulled them through the doorway. He watched as their wounds were seen to. A hand on his vibranium arm caused him to turn around. A young woman who had been part of the viewing looked up at him, almost in tears.

"Thank you," she said. "I didn't think I was ever going to see my family again. You saved me and the others. They say that you used to be the Winter Soldier but now you're an Avenger. I'm glad because I can see you're a good and brave man."

She kissed him on the cheek and went to one of the police vehicles to be taken to the American embassy for repatriation. Several others, both male and female came to him and said similar things, making him feel self-conscious but appreciated.

"Feels pretty good, doesn't it?" said another voice at his side and he looked at Everett Ross, who appeared to be a little roughed up. "They rounded us up within a few minutes of our arrival. We put up a fight but it wasn't until the reinforcements arrived then the explosion happened that we got the upper hand."

"You should get checked out," suggested Bucky.

"Nah, I'm good," said Ross. "The biggest injuries were to my dignity and my ego. They called me short. I hit the guy who said that pretty hard when the explosion happened. Made him drop like a sack of bricks. What the hell did you blow up?"

"Ammonia and bleach in a pressure cooker," said Bucky, "placed beside a gas line and heated up by electrical discharges from the spears of two Dora Milaje warriors."

Ross laughed. "That'll do it," he commented. He offered Bucky his hand to shake. "I heard you're staying with the Avengers. That's good. You'll be a big asset to them." Bucky winced at the term. "Sorry, you're a good man to have in a fight. If you ever need help from a friendly face call me. I'll be there."

He nodded at Bucky who nodded back and Ross walked away. Sam landed next to him, holding the remains of his dress jacket. Bucky looked at it sadly.

"I don't like suits, but that suit felt great," he said. "The Wakandans don't spare any expense on their undercover work." He looked at Sam seriously. "They attacked the farm?"

"Yeah, the guy on the jet put a tracker in Lacey's arm," he said. "I think they expected you would find her and assumed you would reunite her with Tommy. Your safe house here is probably compromised as well. Orlov wanted both of you, father and son. At the same time he sent a force after us at the compound but we made short work of them there. Wong took care of the farm intruders then Strange opened a portal for all of us to get here. They slowed us up in the front with a small army. He's here now if you want to go straight to the farm."

"I should get cleaned up first," said Bucky, looking down at his torn pants. "Maybe to the safe house, have a shower and change my clothes." He looked at Sam and grinned. "I signed the contract. I'm an Avenger."

"Fury announced it," replied Sam. "We need you. I don't think there is anyone else who would have the balls to blow up a chateau. Where are you going to live?"

"I don't know," he answered. "It's something I have to talk to Lacey and Tommy about. I'm going to marry her, Sam, as soon as I can. Then I'll adopt Tommy legally, and we'll figure the rest out. You could be my best man."

"I would be honoured," smiled Sam, offering his hand. "She's a good strong woman. Any one who would wait that long for you has to be worth it."

"Hey Cap," called a soldier from a few feet away. "We have word of a couple of guards from this chateau about a mile from here. Think you can find them from the air?"

"On it," said Sam and with a wave to Bucky he lifted up and flew into the darkness.

Ross pulled up in one of the cars with a couple of the Wakandans. "Hop in," he said. "We're going back to the safe house and pack up before moving to another one that hasn't been compromised. You can shower, get changed and pick up your gear. Dr. Strange said to text him when you're ready and he'll open a portal to the farm."

Bucky sat in the front. Nothing was said on the trip back to Germany but it was obvious they were pleased at the work that freed two dozen captives. At the safe house he showered, then looked at the stubble on his face and decided to shave it off. Once he dressed and packed his bags he went down the stairs to where Ross and the other Wakandans were already going over documentation for another trafficking mission. He started looking at it but Ayo pulled him away.

"Go to your beloved and your son," she ordered. "They have waited for so long to have you to themselves. Your help tonight was invaluable, but we will continue the fight without you for now. White Wolf, you did Wakanda proud tonight."

She, the other Dora Milaje and the King's Guard all stood to attention to honour him and he crossed his fists in front of his chest in response. Pulling his phone out he texted Dr. Strange and a portal opened behind him. He walked through it without looking back.

It was dusk in Iowa, which surprised him. He didn't realize it was so late in France. He looked around him at the darkening sky, seeing a few stars beginning to appear, and hearing the sound of frogs in the distance. It felt better than that night when he left Lacey in her bed and hid in the barn, ashamed of his actions. A soft glow of light came from the windows of the house, and he stepped onto the front steps quietly. The door opened revealing Tommy, having heard Bucky's approach from inside the house with his superior hearing.

"Dad!" he cried, jumping into Bucky's arms.

Holding him tightly Bucky buried his face into his son's hair. "I'm back, Tom," he said. "My mission's done, and we'll have time together until the next one."

"Did you hear we were attacked?" asked Tommy, pulling away. "Us kids hid in the storm cellar while the adults armed themselves. All we could hear was gunfire and then an explosion. Then there was the sound of people falling and Uncle Clint opened the cellar door, saying we could come up. Wong was here. He took out all of the gunmen with magic. It was amazing."

As Tommy explained everything to him Bucky was distracted by the presence of Lacey. She was wearing a dress, just a simple blue and white cotton sundress that showed her shoulders and a bit of her cleavage. Her face was soft, as was her hair, hanging loose around her shoulders.

"We heard you were coming back tonight," she said quietly. "I figured I should dress up for the occasion."

"You look great," said Bucky, looking at her with tenderness.

Clint grabbed his bags and slapped Bucky on the shoulder. "Okay, enough lovey dovey talk," he said. "We've been holding supper for your arrival and I'm starving. Beer?"

Bucky nodded and Lacey came to him, putting her arms around his neck and raising herself on her toes to kiss him. He lifted her up and kissed her in return, a long, soft, sweet kiss that made up for everything that happened that night so many months before. The others went into the house to sit at the table while he and Lacey stayed out on the porch. Suddenly the porch light went off and they were left in the darkness.

"I got more memories back," she said, when they finally broke the kiss. "I remembered receiving your fan letter and you telling me to find a good man, take a chance on love with him, and running with it. I'm taking your advice."

"Am I the good man?" he asked, his voice lower than normal. The sound of his voice made her warm inside and she gasped lightly.

"Oh yes," she replied. "You are. There's no doubt about it." Even in the dark he could see the love in her eyes. "You shaved for me."

Bucky smiled and kissed her lovingly again before he put his mouth near her ear whispering. "I see you everywhere, in the stars, in the river, to me you're everything that exists; the reality of everything."

She laughed sweetly and it sounded like music to him. "Virginia Woolf, Night and Day," she exclaimed. "God, I love you."

"Then marry me," he said softly. "I'll do the proposal properly, with a ring, but just so I know that you're mine right now, this instant, tell me you'll marry me."

"Wait a minute, did you read my book?" she replied immediately, knowing that line was similar to one from a scene in her third book. His smile was her answer. "I'll marry you, Bucky."

Their lips crashed together with feeling, as they both continued to express in person what had resumed in the safe house. When they finally pulled away from each other Clint yelled from inside the house to please come in for dinner and Bucky put his arm around Lacey. Together they walked towards a huge spread of food that was more of a feast. As he loaded his plate, they asked him what happened at the chateau. When he told them about Ayo's plan of heating up the ammonia / bleach mixture in pressure cookers that blew up the kitchen and injured almost all of Orlov's force that were standing behind the chateau waiting to pick them off Clint looked at him with admiration.

"I'm sorry I didn't see that," he stated. "Outstanding, Bucky. Really. Talk about making a statement to the criminal underworld, especially after taking out the traffickers in Brooklyn and the Power Broker in Madripoor. A new sheriff is in town, two new sheriffs. You and Cap."

Bucky blushed and tried to underplay his contribution, but he could see Tommy's face looked so proud. He felt a swell in his chest that he hadn't felt for a long time, pride. It was a good feeling to do something right. Dinner was full of conversation, as both Terry and Lacey described their contributions to the defence of the house. Terry, in particular, joked about the secret room in the barn. Clint got all serious at that point.

"You mean to say you never found it during the Blip?" he asked. "There's an arsenal in there."

"Never found it," answered Terry. "Although I realize now that Natasha knew about it because she went looking for your katana during the Blip. Lacey said you kept a quinjet in one of the other buildings. What's with that?"

Clint smiled mysteriously. "Even though I'm retired I still help out from time to time," he said. "Fury always knew. If he really wanted it all he had to do was ask for it. Not that I have it now. After I was arrested in Leipzig they kind of took it away from me."

"What about the one you flew here after you defeated Thanos?" asked Lacey. "I don't remember it being returned."

"Shhhh," said Clint, dramatically.

"Do you think they would let me have one?" asked Bucky. "I mean, if we buy a farm. I know everything there is to know about raising goats from my time in Wakanda."

Clint looked at him. "Really, goats?" he asked. "How was that for a city boy?"

"They're fun," replied Bucky. "They each have their own personality. I made goat cheese as well. Got pretty good at it. It's up to Lacey though. I don't have any money other than my army pension, or a credit score for that matter."

"We'll talk about it," said Lacey with a smile. "I think we'll stay in Philadelphia for now so Tommy can finish out the school year. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Tommy nodded. "When are we going back?" he asked. "How long were we kidnapped?"

"A week," replied Bucky. "Seems longer, doesn't it? We can go back tomorrow if you're all up to it. Terry, are you okay if I live with you in Philadelphia?"

"Absolutely. Hopefully I still have a job," said Terry. "I told them about the kidnapping, but I haven't spoken to the coach since."

"I'll have to make a trip to the compound first," added Bucky. "Make my mission report and my motorcycle is still there. I have some things in a storage locker in Brooklyn as well, although they can stay there until we find our own place."

Tommy's eyes grew wide. "You have a motorcycle?" he smiled. "Cool. Will you teach me to drive it?"

Bucky said "sure" at the same time Lacey said "no." He winked at Tommy. "You heard your mother," he said. "Not until you're old enough."

Clint laughed, recognizing the conversation that all parents seemed to go through. "So, any idea when you two will get hitched?" he asked.

"I have to propose properly first," replied Bucky. "As soon as we can, I hope. I'm adopting Tommy legally even though I'm the father on record. Steve said you put me down as the father."

"About that," said Laura. "Fury set her up as Mrs. Lacey Chapman, married to James Chapman, not Barnes. He might be able to get that changed but did you put Chapman or Barnes on the birth certificate?"

Lacey made a face. "Chapman," she replied. "Sorry, Bucky. We were trying to keep under the radar and we figured the CIA would figure out Tommy was your son if we registered the father as James Buchanan Barnes."

"It's okay," smiled Bucky. "We'll get it sorted it out. Where do you want to get married? Philadelphia, New York?"

Lacey blushed then looked at Clint and Laura. "I lived here for so long that it will always feel like home," she said. "Would you let us get married here? I figure we could have the ceremony outside then if we clean out the barn we can have the reception in there. It will be mostly Avengers, except for my family. Your location will still be pretty secret."

Clint and Laura studied each other for a few long moments. "Of course," smiled Clint. "We could even rent a bunch of those glamping tents or a few RVs for people to stay in, so they don't have to drive or fly home under the influence. If you wait until Tommy is finished school, you can have it in June. That gives us more than enough time to clear out the barn."

It was Lacey and Bucky's turn to study each other. It was later than he had hoped to tie the knot but he also wanted her to have a real wedding. "June it is," said Bucky.

"Alright," exclaimed Clint, raising his beer. "Here's to a June wedding on the farm. I'll walk the bride down the aisle. Laura will be Lacey's matron of honour. Bucky, who's your best man?"

"Sam, but I would like Terry to be a groomsman, as well as Tommy," he said, looking at the two. "What do you say?"

"It would be my honour," said Terry, while Tommy just had a big grin on his face. "You need another bridesmaid, Lacey."

"My sister Nancy," she replied immediately. "Lila, would you be a bridesmaid as well, so it's even on both sides?"

Clint's daughter blushed and nodded her head. With all of that settled the rest of the meal went quickly. Bedtime came soon and this time Bucky willingly went with Lacey to her room, which was Clint and Laura's old bedroom.

"This isn't the same room," he noted when the door was closed.

"No, when we moved to Philadelphia, Clint and Laura took the suite he built for me and Tommy," she said from near the bed. "That was the plan all along. We don't have our own bathroom with this room."

"So no shower after," he said in his low voice. "That's too bad. I was planning on us getting quite sweaty then helping you get clean in the shower."

"Me too," replied Lacey, feeling the warmth building in her core. "I guess we could tone it down a bit."

They met in the middle of the room, their lips hungrily searching out the other. Reaching for the bottom of the T-shirt Bucky was wearing Lacey pulled it up and over his head. Immediately she noticed the dressings on his bullet wounds.

"What happened?" she asked, touching one gingerly.

"I got shot four times," he said, standing quietly with his head bent over her. "Ayo took the bullets out and they've already started healing. In a few days they'll be fully healed. In a few weeks the scars will be mostly gone."

"You had terrible scars on your shoulder with the other arm," she said, stepping back a little so she could look up at him. "Why didn't they heal?"

He took a deep breath. "Because they were caused by me," he said. "The pain was so much that I tried to pull it off at the shoulder many times and they couldn't heal. There isn't pain with this arm, so the skin was able to heal quickly."

Tears began to form in her eyes and her lips quivered as she tried to speak. "It wasn't just physical pain, was it," she whispered. "It hurt you deeply inside."

Bucky licked his lips, feeling a bit of anxiety at the memory. "That arm had one purpose," he answered back. "To kill. Even before I got away there were times I didn't want to kill anymore and I tried to rip it off of my body. Having it was always a reminder of what they made me do. They never treated the inflammation I caused because they wanted to reinforce that they had all the control and I had none."

"Shuri speculated that you might not accept this arm," replied Lacey. "That you might associate any prosthetic arm with death and destruction. Why did you accept it?"

He was quiet for a moment, then touched her hair gently. "King T'Challa talked with me, alone in the garden where I often took the calls with you," he answered. "We talked about his cousin who had challenged his rule and defeated him. All legally, according to their laws. I was still in cryostasis at the time, and they hid me from the cousin because they knew if he found out I was there he would awaken the Winter Soldier and use me to keep him in power. He planned to dominate the world apparently. I told T'Challa that I could never be used in that way again and he agreed. He did ask that if he needed my help to defend Wakanda in the future I would agree and I said yes, because they had done so much for me. When Thanos arrived T'Challa came to me with the arm and I knew I had to put it on."

"You haven't taken it off since," said Lacey.

Bucky laughed. "Not until I found out it could be removed," he said. "During the Flag Smashers I helped an enemy of Wakanda break out of prison. We needed his help and I fully intended to return him to prison after. Ayo and two other Dora Milaje came for him at the same time John Walker was there. They started fighting and it looked like they were ready to kill Walker so I intervened and Ayo removed my arm. She swore at me. I was shocked as I had no idea it could come off. At any rate, this arm feels normal. Within minutes of wearing it I forgot it wasn't flesh and blood. It's part of me now and is nothing like the arm I used to have."

As if to prove his point Bucky gently caressed her face with the prosthetic hand, then moved it down her throat to her chest where it lingered. It felt smooth and its soft touch was an invitation to proceed with what they had started. Crossing her arms in front of her Lacey lifted the dress off over her head, revealing she hadn't worn a bra. Smiling, Bucky pulled her close to him, so the skin of his chest touched hers. Kissing her deeply he ran both of his hands down her back enclosing her tightly. She smiled at him as she felt his body respond to hers.

"Yes, I want you," he whispered. "I won't stop this time, I promise."

They got on the bed and Bucky placed himself over her, supporting himself on his elbows. She raised herself to his lips, kissing him as he began to caress her breasts. As he ground his hips into her she felt his cock pressing onto her and she began moving with him.

"Take them off," he whispered, touching her panties, pulling back to allow her to do so.

Lowering his face to between her thighs he kissed the skin softly as he ran his hand over her pubic mound. Immediately Lacey gasped and he opened her folds giving kitten licks, holding her leg down as she writhed in pleasure at his touches. Slowly he brought her closer to coming then stopped and removed his briefs before lying partially on her.

"You're a bad man," she whispered. "Stopping when I'm so close."

"Darling, I'm a good man," he said in her ear as he kissed just below it. "You'll feel so good after."

Gently he took one hand, kissing the palm then moved it above her head. She smiled at him and put her other hand up, crossing them together.

"Good girl," he whispered again, then mouthed down her neck to her collar bone.

Grasping himself he eased into Lacey, going slowly. When Bucky bottomed out he placed his artificial hand on her wrists where she had crossed them. Slowly and deliberately he began thrusting into her, making sure he made contact where she was most sensitive. Her eyes were dark and luminous as she gave herself over to him. When she got closer to coming her mouth opened, gasping and whimpering with each thrust. Her cries became louder and he pressed his mouth on hers, thrusting his tongue deeply into her mouth as he increased the pace and force of his thrust. He could feel her around his cock, feel the pressure on him as her climax neared then she suddenly tightened all around him, screaming in her throat as she came. He released her hands then and continued thrusting and burying his mouth in her neck and throat until he finally came with a loud release of his breath. Lacey's hands ran down his back then to his chest enjoying the touch of his hot skin. Finally he stopped and laid on top of her before slowly pulling out. Bucky kissed her again, gently and tenderly this time.

"Am I still a bad man?" he asked.

"The worst," she said, smiling. "You'll have to try again."

As they resumed their heated connection with a chuckle both thanked whatever had brought them together so many years before. Much had happened since then, but they were together now, and both vowed never to be torn apart again.

Author's note: A reminder that Lacey's third book, referred to in this chapter, is available to be read. It's titled His Blue Eyes and can be found on my Wattpad platform. It is not an MCU fanfiction, although I assigned MCU actors (and others) to the moodboards in them. It is a romance and a bit of a slow burn thriller.

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ladyhoneydee · 11 months

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30 Day Song(fic) Challenge: Day 1

Today’s fic for my homebrew Song(fic) Challenge is for the prompt “favorite album opener”, and I just had to go with the song “State of Grace” by Taylor Swift, for her album “Red”! The drums and guitar bring on a sensation of motion and autumn that is perfect for the rest of the album, in my opinion.

a gentle wildness

Game: Twilight Princess, post-canon

Pairing: Zelink

Word Count: 817

Keywords: introspection, healing, romantic

“Even if she were to have the gift of prophecy, as ancestresses past had held, she never would have seen him coming.”

Read the fic on Ao3, or under the cut!

She’d been told the stories before she was old enough to walk.

A princess would be born in a castle—that’s you!—and she would be filled with so much goodness and light that it would drizzle from her fingers like raindrops off of a forest leaf. She would sing and the birds would sing back; she would speak and the people would remove their hats just to hear her words a little more clearly. She would grow strong and beautiful and virtuous and full of glory, glory, and she would raise her kingdom—why wasn’t it a Queendom, if she had the blood of the gods? hush now, that’s just not how the story goes—to even greater heights, while she waited for the clouds of evil to cover the sun.

But she wouldn’t be alone. Because a hero would be born, and he would emerge from the town next to the castle—or a small village on the coast!—or from the hamlet home of a family of royal guardsmen—or the mists of an ancient forest!—and he would walk to the castle with the wind on his back, and he would take her hand, and the gale of his might would drive away the darkening clouds.

She had been carefully coached on the course her life would take. It was truly unfortunate that she had failed at every turn.

Life? Or death?!

And the sword had clattered to the marble floor with the metallic toll of a funeral bell.

Midna…I believe I understand now just who and what you are…

And the light she had so diligently clutched to her chest—even after her own body had vanished in twilight and she had crafted a facsimile so convincing even a feral wolf might stand down in awe—flowed freely from her palms and into the weak frame of a truly beautiful soul, leaving her emptier than a cracked glass.

It stood to reason that the man who came to her aid would be different than the stories had told her, as well.

A shepherd. A keeper of flocks, a defender of the weak. A man who had learned the bow to hunt wild rabbits and deer before he ever aimed it between the eyes of a bokoblin; a man who had learned the sword to please his father and entertain his brother, despite neither being a blood relation. He had come to her not tall and strong with the wind at his back, but furred and frenzied with a imp resting upon it; and he had returned to her again with a whine on his tongue and a begging tail between his legs and the imp on his back gone inky blue with pooling blood and shadow beneath her skin; and he had taken her hand like an equal when at last she saw him on two legs rather than four.

He may have been blessed by the goddesses, but there was not a hint of their marble polish in his touch. His was a gentle wildness all his own.

Even if she were to have the gift of prophecy, as ancestresses past had held, she never would have seen him coming.

They had both been wrecked by the fallout of a kingdom crumbled. They bonded over hearts shattered into mosaics, like the mirror of their mutual beloved. Each night, she put herself to bed while tremulously imagining his room empty in the next morning’s light, and the door swinging on its hinges, as he returned where he belonged. Each noon, he took lunch with her in her office, and ferried papers from her desk to her council and back, and looked upon her with such steadfastness she thought she might be sick.

She was the most warlike queen in an age. Her accuracy with her bow was greater than even the deadliest of her sharpshooters; she trained with a rapier until only the hero could best her. She incorporated armor into her daily dress, so that if she were ever trapped in her throne room again, she could fight her way out without the need to risk everything precious to her. She entered the council room with a savage grace that spoke her determination to do right by her people without a word lilted from her tongue.

And yet, when he led her by the hand to a quiet room, and four blue eyes and two pairs of chapped lips met in the heartbeat-silence, that armor came crashing down with the wave of the greatest joy she’d ever tasted.

She had been born to rule with a hand of gold, with her word law writ upon stone. She led instead with scarred palms and an open heart and a grace that came not from the skies above, but was cultivated within.

She walked forward into twilight and daybreak alike with love, a man of gentle wildness at her side.

#loz #zelink #my fanfiction #tp zelink #fanfic #loz fanfic #30 day song(fic) challenge

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gelenka-daria · 4 years

Note

Halloween's coming up so maybe you could write something to go along with the spirit for Manwe and Melkor? Werewolf AU? Vampires? Fairies? Anything? :D

i don't know what happened

Rain and thunder rattle against the window after the first bolt lights up the sky, but that isn't what awakes him.

The screaming sounds distant, remnants of a fever-induced dream, little more than a hallucination. Manwë almost believes it is.

It takes him longer than appreciated to come to, for his blurry vision to clear. He shifts, sore limbs protesting when he attempts to lift himself off the bedding, succeeding with no little effort, before looking about his bedchamber, dim save a few strings of silver moonlight trickling through the window.

He frowns. It's quiet, unsettlingly so, and it drags on long enough for him to question his state of mind. Perhaps that, too, had begun to deteriorate alongside his body.

But then, as suddenly as it went, a commotion breaks the silence, haphazard movement in the hall behind his door. Frantic footsteps up a stairway, another blood-curdling scream, terrified and terrifying and the hairs on Manwë's arms stand on end, goosebumps prickling his skin as his eyes widen at what sounds like hysterical begging right outside his chamber before the cries are cut short, replaced by wet gurgle.

Manwë freezes, feeling a wretched twist of fear in his chest, his heart in his throat, in his ears, loud, but not enough to drown out the sound of something heavy hitting the floor, followed by footsteps against worn wooden boards, each step accompanied by the low creak of ancient woodwork, deliberate-like and slow, getting closer.

It springs an abrupt reaction from him, but his weakening knees buckle right as his feet touch the floor and he crumbles, pain shooting up his bones the second his body collides with the worn wooden boards, hissing at the harsh contact. Manwë tries to get his joints to function as he attempts to hitch himself up, but even that seems to be too much effort on his weakening form. It's when he's finally up on his knees, fingers clenched around his bedding and stopping to take a breath, that it dawns on him. The abominable, godawful quiet. Nothing but the faint pitter-patter of rain and his own stuttering breaths.

Something terrible presses down on his chest; the icy cold creep of fear across his shoulder, the surge of panic that makes him feel sick to his stomach. It's then that he realizes that he isn't really alone in his bedchamber, that something else is sharing his space with him, lurking in one of the shadowed corners. A silhouette, shifting darkness.

Manwë looks despite himself, peering over his shoulder between pale, limp hair. It takes him a second to absorb his surroundings— his room looks strangely unfamiliar when the blue lightning reaches every niche, the corners empty, nothing hiding in them, but that's only because whatever thing had prowled its way into his home was standing there, mere feet from him.

It all makes sense, suddenly.

It looks human, Manwë can't help but notice, struck rigid and staring wide-eyed at it, but he can sense it, its otherness, glowing golden eyes staring back through shadowed features, the steady drip-drip sound of something dribbling down clawed fingers before lightning comes again, and a face comes into view, equal parts terrifying and beautiful, red streaking down a defined chin.

Manwë loses grip on the bedding and falls face first onto the floor. Ignoring his useless legs, he sets on a frantic, pointed crawl to where the bedside table harbors a silver dagger. His health might be failing, but he refuses to concede to such a death without fighting for his life.

He reaches it by some miracle, the creature uninterested in stopping him for whatever reason, yet what frail, little hope he'd fostered in this short period of time fades when the drawers turn up empty, his only means of defending himself nowhere to be found.

"Looking for this, perhaps?" A deep, velvety voice resonates through Manwë's bones and he wants to cry at the impossibility of it because no, no, it cannot be. Except it is, the blade a glaringly bright gray in one uncanny hand when he struggles to turn his head and look.

A sharp grin reveals sharper teeth, gleaming in the bordering darkness, and it slowly tips its head towards Manwë's study where he now remembers having left it laying prior to the days he became bedridden. It takes everything in him to stop the tears from coming. The creature tuts, "such carelessness over such precious things." Before dropping the dagger into Manwë's reach, the sound of it clattering against the floor too loud on Manwë's ears.

"Go on," it says almost enticingly, stepping closer, "you are welcome to try."

Manwë swallows with difficulty and grits his teeth, his trembling fingers barely secure around the blade don't stop the frisson of horror curling in his belly. What good is a weapon, if he doesn't have the strength to wield it?

"I had heard talk amongst townsfolk, of how the lord of this manor had succumbed to the spreading plague," it says, as it steps closer, voice holding the detached curiosity one would spare for a particularly interesting insect, "I can smell the disease on your skin, I hear it in your lungs. It should suffice to deter me, a well-nigh corpse is of no use to me, I ought to leave you to perish, however," boot-clad feet come into view, "Mercy is no virtue of mine, and yet you look so pitiful, it has gotten me in a charitable mood, I might spare you such pain, grant you a quicker death, my bite need not hurt so much."

Laying there in helpless despair, Manwë can't help but scoff, incredulous, might as well. "How gracious of you," his voice is watery and bitter, "I wouldn't presume you to have extended the residents of this house the same courtesy."

"Ah, are you grieving your servants?" it sounds almost spiteful, "worry not, you shall join them soon."

Manwë hisses when the creature digs the tip of its boot into his side, pressing into his ribs and flipping him over, as though he were a mere carcass in decay on the side of a road. Once he's on his back, he keeps his eyes to the ceiling, his hands tightly gripping the iron hilt of his dagger, held close to his chest, a feeble measure of security. The thing crouches next to him, its presence too cold and Manwë can hardly bear to look at its too human features in fear of being lured into a false sense of normality, that maybe this was someone he could reason with.

He jolts when cool, bloody fingers hover over his forehead, moving whatever's strayed of his hair out of his face, before its hand cradles his pale, sunken cheek, smearing the scarlet print of its hand upon Manwë's face. Manwë makes the mistake to look, and meets the creature's gaze, its eyes feverish and pinning him down more effectively than if it had used brute force.

"However," it says, tone unexpectedly light as Manwë falls prey to sudden burgeoning interest, a horrible, horrible darkening to its eyes, a wolf gone hungry, "I might be inclined to change my mind."

Manwë doesn't care for an explanation, as he takes advantage of the proximity and unforeseen regard. He takes aim, plunging the dagger upwards with all he has, his one chance, the sound of a single slice sharp in the near silence. And he hits his mark, he thinks, hands shaking around the hilt, both horrified and delighted and all kinds of frantic. He looks up, into black, wide, astonished eyes and for a second there relief floods him. Any minute now, the hands gripping his wrists should loosen. Any minute now, the flesh and bone around the blade should start to fray away.

Any minute now.

Except, none of that happens. The surprise fades out into unsettling mirth and it cackles hoarsely, throaty tones vibrant with devious delight as it raises its head and pins him with an ancient stare. "Why, you did try. Such endearing determination." Cutting fangs come into view from under a likewise grin. Manwë's hands slip off the hilt, falling limp at his sides as he watches the creature yank the dagger out, dripping tar-dark blood, with not so much a flinch, and tossing it aside. "Had there been a chance of such a thing ever posing a threat, I never would have handed it to you, sweetling."

Manwë flinches at the endearment, his fingers digging painfully into the wood bellow, blood welling from under his fingernails. The creature sniffs, its grin softening. "There," it sighs, deceptively gentle, as it leans ever closer, "underneath the stench of death, you smell utterly delectable."

Ah, Manwë thinks, defeated, what little strength he had left bleeding out, I see.

The creature tsks. "No need to look so glum, precious, I'm of a mind to preserve your life, not end it." It says into the minuscule space between their lips, dark, pitch-black eyes switching to a malevolent carmine. "Twould be a shame," a thumb sweeps across Manwë's left cheek, "such a lovely face, wasted to mortality."

"No," Manwë says, rejecting the heavy implication. He would much rather die.

It blinks. "No?"

"No." Manwë affirms between gritted teeth. "I would prefer to die on my own terms. I refuse to become like you, either leave me be or kill me."

"How gullible," it cradles his head, fingers burrowing into his hair, nails scratching lightly at his scalp in a manner that, in any other circumstance, would have eased him into comfort. "To think you have a say in the matter."

Dread fills him as he breaks into cold sweat. He looks at it, the blood-spatter across its face, so beautiful, so horrible, devoid of warmth. Further from anything Manwë wishes to ever be. Tears prick the corners of his eyes. "Please."

"You should be groveling at my feet in thanks," it lifts Manwë's upper body off the floor, slow and careful, the other hand brushing his hair out of the way, its breath cool against his collarbone, "for the gift I am to bestow upon you."

Manwë shakes his head, his shivering hands reaching up to grip its shoulders, intent on pushing it away, yet all he can do is hold on.

"Shhh," it breathes against his neck soothingly, "I assure you, in no time, you will be loath to part with me."

One cold kiss to his skin, and it's over.

A low growl coils in its throat when it draws blood, demonic, feral, possessive, frightening. Manwë can't find it in him to make a sound. The teeth in his throat don’t even hurt. Sharp bright sensation, flesh parting at the join of shoulder and neck, an obsidian dagger splitting him open from sternum to skull—his consciousness reforms and he feels—he’s whole, he’s whole, he’s bitten open and bleeding out but somehow he’s whole for the first time in his life.

His eyes are wide and unseeing, blinded by the sudden rush of power, so intoxicating that he clings, wraps arms and legs around this thing, ignoring the distant screaming of you don't want this, you don't and draws him closer for more give me more, close enough to hear a yes purred into his own blood, until the scalding light fades and there's nothing but darkness.

#not a whole lotta consent here anon just a heads up #i really don't know what happened omg #i was aiming for romantic and it took a life of its own and turned into THIS #in fairness i did have a similar idea in my head for a long time so 🤷🏻‍♀️#melkor #manwë #prompt #tolkien #melkor x manwë #it’s not even halloween anymore #anonymous

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aesthyuckic · 2 years

Text

🩰📻 slow dancing! ┊͙✧˖*°࿐

“I never went to prom.”

The statement seemed to shock your best friend for some reason. It was oddly silent between you two as he just stared. It was embarrassing to confess for some reason, the fact that you never went to a school dance and you felt like you missed out on a lot of teen experiences that others had so much of.

“Why?” Renjun asked before he turned his attention back to cooking the hot chocolate on the stove.

“Because,” You sighed. “I never saw a point in it I guess. I had no one to go with, not even friends. The point of a dance… is to dance. I had no one to dance with and dancing by yourself at that age is embarrassing.”

“I find that hard to believe.” He tsked. “The fact that you had no friends and no one asked you out in the span of four years with what? Seventeen different dance opportunities at least.”

“Believe it. No one saw me in a romantic light in high school and no one saw me as more than acquaintance... I’ve never been very pretty so I guess I understand it.”

“I think you're pretty. I’ve seen pictures of you from high school, you were pretty then too. The only real differences is the dyed hair that's shorter and the fact that you actually look happy now, I guess its makes you glow in a certain way... Even prettier.”

“You think I’m pretty?”

The blush on your cheeks was evident at what slipped out of your friend’s mouth. Only when you pointed out did he realize and become flustered as well. The atmosphere became quiet once again as you both stared at each other from across the counter. He cleared his throat before he went back to mixing the drink in the pan.

“We never had school dances back in China and Korea, so you're not alone.” Renjun spoke, softly while not being able to look at you.

“You had friends though.” You pointed out with a smile. “And don’t tell me you never went out with anyone.”

“Alright, I won’t then.” The boy laughed.

“There's absolutely no way.”

“I looked like a child in high school.”

“Maybe because you were one?”

“The point is, I’m in a similar boat as you. Oh, the hot chocolate is done.”

He opened the cabinet above the stove and grabbed two mugs before he poured the drink into each of the white mugs. He handed yours first before he started on his own. The stove turned off with a click of the nob. The pot put to the side to cool with what remained.

“Can I ask for why it upsets you?” He pondered You never going to a school dance that is.”

“I just…” You sighed. “I always dreamed about slow dancing with someone. It seemed so romantic and special watching other people do it on TV and stuff.”

“Is that all?” He chuckled before he took a sip of the drink he had just finished making. “You can still slow dance with someone now. Hell, you could do it with me, right here. If you wanted to that is.”

He was quick to add the last part before you could respond to anything. A part of you wanted to. It’s something you always dreamed about, dancing with someone in a kitchen at three in the morning in their t-shirt. It was only eleven at night though and you imagined it being with someone you were with but Renjun was good too even if it was only a friendly thing. You sat in his t-shirt that he lended you since you forgot his pajamas. Not exactly the baggy you aimed for with the way it hugged your body either but you didn’t mind.

“I want to.” You mumbled.

Something in his eyes was a tell about how shocked and excited he way about saying you wanted to. He grabbed his phone rather quickly off the counter before a song started to play over the speaker that sat in the corner.

You recognized the song almost immediately. You hadn’t listen to it in some time but you remember the late summer nights in high school you spent dreaming and crying to the song you loved so dearly. You don’t think you ever shared it with anyone in your life. It took you back.

“You forget I have your playlists?” He chuckled. “Slow dancing at 3am… Very fitting.”

There was a moment of awkward silence as he blushed a bit. He extended his hand out to you which you took as the music played softly behind you both. Your heart started to race as you tensed up and found yourself in front of Renjun. It was surprising when one hand of his found a place on your waist while the other held your hand gently. Naturally, your hand a place on his shoulder.

You let him take the lead as you realized you really had no idea what you were doing. It felt weightless as he moved the both of you around the tiled floor, so close to one another.

“Hey, you’re so stiff.” He huffed. “Loosen up, this is suppose to be fun.”

“I’m sorry!” You exclaimed. “I don’t know what I’m doing! I’m afraid I’ll set on your toes or something.”

You were ready to cry as you broke away from him abruptly. You sat down in the chair you were in before, only this time with your hands covering your face in attempt to calm down before you started to actually cry. The music continued in the background but the silence was deafening over it. You could see movement in the light through the gaps your hands left.

“Y/n.” The boy called softly.

He reached out to gently remove your hands from your face. He was bent down in front of you, just staring up as the kitchen light made his eyes sparkle in such a way.

“It’s okay to mess up.” He reassured. “It’s my first time dancing with someone too… I’m surprised it went as well as it did. Can we try again, please?”

You couldn’t resist after seeing the look on his face, “Fine.”

He pulled you back into him. The previous song ended and another took its place. As you moved, he remind you in occasional, sweet whispers to relax. You listened every time. The both of you shared some giggles and playful exchanges. The love filled looks and smiles go unnoticed.

He saw the way you were smiling as he moved you around with you. So lost in the scene, he didn’t realize he came to a halt. You looked at him, wondering why. Clueless, you found yourself lost in a stare he now shared with you.

It happened rather quickly when he cupped your cheek to bring you in to share a kiss with him. Suddenly, your hands left his shoulders just to wrap themselves around his neck in attempt to bring him closer.

It was overwhelming in the best way possible as he deepened the kiss, hugging you to his body. It was perfect in the way it seemed to last forever, that moment. Once he pulled away, his expression seemed blank as pink dusted his cheeks.

“You’re cute.” You giggled to him.

“I could say the same thing.” He responded, rather smoothly.

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oro-e-diamanti · 3 years

Text

The one where Ethan is pretending

Description | When you bump into Ethan in Paris, you fail to mention that you know exactly who he is. You’re not sure how long you’ll be able to keep it up when he asks you out for a drink.

Content | Fluff

Pairing | Ethan x gn!Reader (with the exception of one female pet name)

Word Count | 2071

Taglist | @ginny-lily @ethaneskin @tabi-toast @mywritingonlyfans

***

There was no way you were staying in the same place that Måneskin had just arrived at. There was no way, you kept telling yourself. Paris was a massive city, the number of available hotels in the hundreds, maybe thousands if you had to guess. And yet, somehow, you had managed to pick the one place one of your new favourite obsessions would spend their time. You knew it didn't mean much, the hotel had more than a couple of rooms and with your luck, you wouldn't even catch a glimpse of them. But as you kept scrolling through Instagram, seeing pictures of people meeting the four Italians in front of the place you had checked into mere days ago, you couldn't fight a little bubble of excitement forming in your chest.

Well, you told yourself you wouldn't get your hopes up. And you definitely wouldn't hang around in front of the hotel or in the lobby. You had booked your solo trip to Paris months ago, after dreaming about visiting the city for most of your life, and you would be damned if you wouldn't stick to your itinerary and enjoy your holiday. However - you had gotten up at what felt like dawn to go queue up for the Louvre and spent the last couple of hours there, so you decided that a nap was the way to go if you wanted to continue exploring the city in the evening. Fortunately, the walk back to the hotel wasn't long.

You had made it to the last corner before entering the street you were aiming for, when two giggling girls ran past you, unceremoniously bumping your shoulder and sending you tumbling. You were fully expecting to hit the ground, but instead, a pair of strong arms caught you and brought you back to your feet. A pair of strong arms belonging to a strong chest that you came face-to-face with, belonging to a gorgeous face, belonging to Ethan Torchio.

"Tu vas bien?" His broad French accent confused you, momentarily forgetting about the little detail that you were, in fact, in France, as you stared at the drummer in front of you, who was still protectively holding onto your upper arms.

"Huh?" Was the immensely intelligent answer that thus left your mouth.

"Oh, not French?"

"No, definitely not French." You finally said, taking a step back from him to avoid the increasing awkwardness you were feeling about being touched by him, while the two girls who had previously knocked you down were now lingering around the two of you suspiciously, not coming close enough to be rude, but obviously desperate to get their own piece of Ethan. "No, just a tourist."

"Me too," Ethan smiled. "A tourist, I mean. Well, kind of. I'm here with my band so it's not like we have time to do a lot of sightseeing."

He briefly turned around to look at the two girls who still seemed frustrated at you hogging his time and gave a small wave before turning back to you. It was the movement that made you realise he had the most gorgeous red rose tucked into the waistband of his trousers. Well, it used to be the most gorgeous rose - after your little crash, it had bent in the middle, the top hanging only by a thread, in the most miserable fashion.

"Oh, no I am so sorry!" You gasped, carefully grasping the delicate petals that were on the verge of breaking off. "I must have crashed into it when you caught me."

"Don't worry about it," Ethan said, softly, and pulled the stem from his waistband. The flower looked even more tragic now, in all its crushed glory. "A fan gave it to me a few minutes ago."

"Huh?" You surely proved yourself articulate in this conversation. You mentally hit yourself, angry at yourself for being so easily flustered.

"There are a few fans waiting in front of our hotel, because we're in a ... band ... and things."

Apparently, your awkwardness was contagious. Also, it was becoming increasingly obvious that Ethan thought that you had no idea who he was.

"Let me get you a new one," you suggested. "There's a flower shop just two doors down from the hotel - I mean, I am staying there, too, so I know."

He smiled at you with a serenity and calmness that had your heart soaring. You decided you'd be willing to buy him a million roses if only he kept smiling at you like that for a little longer.

"Well, I've got to go now, but it would be rude to refuse your offer. Meet you in the bar of the hotel at 8 tonight?"

No way this was happening. You almost gasped, but at the last moment managed to keep your cool, outwardly. On the inside, you were a mess. Bumping into the drummer of one of your favourite bands was a wonderful chance meeting as it was - but this almost sounded like a date. Now, of course, Ethan wouldn't be asking you out on a date. That would be ridiculous. But there was also no way you would miss out on a chance to meet him again. Preferably without those two giggling girls that were still standing behind him, watching every move of your interaction but luckily too far away to hear what you were saying.

"It's a d- uh, deal," you quickly recovered before almost spitting out the word date instead. Ethan chuckled.

"Right, see you later, then, for our... deal."

He had seen right through you anyway, you thought. But he was still laughing, so it wasn't all that bad - right?

With another quick touch to your upper arm, Ethan walked past you, turning around just one last time.

"My name is Ethan, by the way. You can tell me yours tonight."

Oh, you would.

***

The rest of the day was... well, restless. You couldn't nap because your mind was a whirlwind and your stomach was twisting with excitement. So instead, you had made sure to get the prettiest red rose you could find in the flower shop down the street - while slightly wincing at the price that a shop in the center of the city of love demanded - and put it in a glass the hotel receptionist had been nice to give to you. Then you had decided that there was no way you would manage to relax before 8, so you allowed yourself a few hours simply wandering through the city, no real destination, no itinerary for once, just a nice long stroll with nothing but your thoughts.

At five past eight - being slightly late was still cool, right? - you did a quick check-up in the mirror, realised you were not going to get any happier with your appearance whatever you tried to do at this point, grabbed the rose from its makeshift vase, and left your room.

It only took you a second to see him when you entered the little bar on the ground floor of the hotel. Even in the dim light, the white blouse that he had already been wearing when you met for the first time stood out like a sore thumb. Long dark hair fell over his back in a silky fashion. You had never wanted to touch anyone's hair more.

You took one more deep breath and then walked over to Ethan, smile on your face and rose in your hand.

"A rose for the handsome gentleman?"

Ethan almost jumped, apparently not having heard you coming, but quickly a smirk spread over his face while he stood up.

"I'll take the rose and your name, then."

"It's Y/n."

Ethan greeted you with a soft kiss to your cheek, before taking the rose, pulling your chair back, and inviting you to sit. It was almost ridiculously romantic and if it had been anyone else it would have seemed over-the-top and off-putting, but with Ethan it seemed sincere and fitting.

"Glass of wine, Y/n?" He asked as he casually waved the waiter over to your table.

"Just one. I want to get up early tomorrow for some more sightseeing."

***

It didn't end up being just one glass. It ended up another one and then a bottle shared. But it also ended up with three hours of talking, laughing, teasing, and slowly moving your chairs closer together until you were basically sitting on the same side of the table. You had asked him about his band - still trying to cover up that you knew exactly who they were out of pure fear that he'd reject you for being a fan - and he has asked about your job, your life, your family. In fact, you only left the bar when the waiter had started throwing you annoyed looks while demonstratively cleaning the tables around you.

"I'll bring you to your room," Ethan chuckled lightly as you waited for the elevator. His hand was on the small of your back and it was spreading tingles all through your body. You were standing close enough that you could smell his perfume, a light yet musky scent that encapsulated everything about him.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, he lightly pushed you inside and you found yourself not minding him leading you like this. You pressed the button for your floor, leaning against the wall as you studied the man in front of you. He was a thing of beauty, no question about it, and when he smiled down at you the way he was right then and there, he made you feel like one, too.

"I had a lovely evening, Y/n. Is there any chance I could get your number?"

What a question, you thought to yourself. You'd be mad to refuse him!

You dug your phone out of your cluttered bag. You had switched numbers just a few weeks ago and had not yet learned the new digits by heart. Quickly, you switched it on - and your heart sank. Oh crap. You had completely forgotten about this.

The lockscreen of your phone was a picture of Måneskin.

As you looked up, you realized Ethan had seen. And, contrarily to the reaction that you were anticipating, he was wearing a massive grin.

"Ethan, I am so sorry, I should have told you immediately when we met but I kind of just stumbled into this and you were explaining you were in a band and I didn't know how to say-"

"Dolcezza, calm down. I've known all along."

"Wait - what?"

He didn't explain. Instead, he pointed to your bag - your tote bag - your Måneskin tote bag.

You truly felt like the least intelligent life form on earth.

"I've been carrying that around all day, haven't I?"

While your embarrassment grew, face heating up, Ethan grabbed your shoulders and pulled you into his body. His arms tightly wrapped around your body and you could feel his giggles in his chest, as your head was pressed against it. You didn't hesitate in reciprocating, clinging onto his torso, slowly swinging from side to side. Both of you caught in a tipsy stupor.

You only stopped when the elevator arrived at your floor, both of you stumbling out and dragging each other to your door while clinging on. When you reached your room, you let your back lean against it, pulling Ethan along so you were standing face to face, smiling at each other shily and yet never breaking eye contact.

"Why didn't you say anything?" You finally asked. He stroked your cheek, leaving goosebumps. He had now gotten so close that you could feel his breath on your, drowning in each other.

"I liked pretending."

And then he kissed you. Boldly, unafraid and passionate. You melted like putty under him, letting him take control while letting yourself fall, as his lips moved against yours.

You only pulled away enough to get another glance at him, before once again searching your bag, now one-handed, so you never quite had to let go of him. A small triumphant sound escaped you as you located the key card. Holding it up next to your face, you shot the man in front of you another smirk.

"Why don't we keep pretending? At least for tonight."

It wasn't an offer he was going to refuse.

#ethan torchio #maneskin #ethan torchio imagine #ethan torchio fiction #ethan tochio x you #ethan torchio x reader #maneskin imagine #maneskin fiction #fluff #my writings

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sehunniepotwrites · 4 years

Text

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

#nctsworldfwc #neowritingsnet #cznnet #nct scenarios #nct fic #nct imagines #nct x you #jung jaehyun #jaehyun #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun x you #jaehyun fic #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun angst

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alrightberries · 4 years

Text

honey, honey (how you thrill me)

request: i loved strawberries and cigarettes but levi just can’t catch a break :(( can we have a super fluffy modern au with boyfriend levi instead? thanks!

request: hi i’m new here and had read your fics. i love your take on levi’s character! Also that your writing is very great to read!😘 (tho that angst really made me cry HARD) if i may request umm... i want a levi x reader fic about them being like an old married couple but they’re not in a relationship ‘yet’ so like everyone ships them. Its a fluffy crack fic/ Reader is like “well you’re clean and I kinda lilke you so...” then levi be like “you’re tolerable and knows how to properly clean.” and then they really ended up married. It’s like the easiest transition from friends to lovers that one day they just said lets get married we act like it anyway whats new 😂. I want fluffs and laughs! Aot is angsty enough we need fluffs with our favorite characters!!

❈ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

❈ genre: fluff, semi-crack. ❈ word count: 4.6k

❈ summary: modern au. In which you and Levi are both professors at the same university, and are painfully unaware that all the students and other staff members have a bet that’s been going on for years now. What’s it about? When you’ll both finally confess to each other and just date already.

❈ trigger warnings: profanity. mentions of sex

a/n: made it gender neutral as per usual. this was really fun to write! makes me think about writing fluff more often (pffft sure)

Trost University was home to many brilliant minds. It was a prestigious school with an acceptance rate of 600 out of 4000 yearly applicants, and producing the finest students; those of which would almost always graduate with high honors before starting a successful career of their choosing.

Its professors, undoubtedly, were of the finest quality as well. They were professional, extremely skilled, and highly trained. It was a workforce full of almost over qualified educators excelling in their respective fields, with master and PhD certificates framed on cubicle walls being the norm in the faculty room.

Erwin himself was proud to be a professor here. He started working as a high school teacher when he was still studying for his master’s degree, shifting from high school teachings to college teachings as years passed by, before eventually getting recognized and offered a job seven years ago by the prestigious school.

His friends— a loving and longterm couple who, as far as he knew, were high school sweethearts and still going strong today— had joined him on this journey as well. He’d known them since they were in college, all studying different fields but aiming for the same career of teaching.

The three of them shared a strong bond; a bond built on study groups, mutual dislike for crappy teachers, and a certain love for education. They were there for him, and he was there for them. He especially disliked it, however, when their relationship went through rough patches. He didn’t like picking sides, and listening to the same story being told from two different perspectives almost always made him want to grab Y/N and Levi’s heads and bash them together for how dumb they were acting.

But despite the differences and occasional fights, he wouldn’t hesitate to say that he trusted them with his life.

So Erwin, for the life of him, couldn’t figure out why he was just now finding out that the power couple he knew and loved wasn’t even a couple at all.

“So, wait.” He speaks, trying to be heard over the crowded cafeteria chatter. “You’re telling me... they’re not a longterm couple?”

“They’re not.” Moblit confirms easily. “Apparently, they’re not even dating.”

“Or so they claim.” Hange interjects. “Y/N and Levi have actual matching rings. Literally— I asked Levi about it once and he said Y/N was his fiancé.”

“But not romantically.” Moblit quickly adds on. “I was there too, he said not romantically.”

“Why would Levi propose to someone he’s not romantically interested in, huh?!” She counters back, a little louder than the brown haired man’s volume.

“I don’t know! Citizenship? Money? Sex—“

“They’re in love! You know they’re in love, you’re just denying it because you want to get in Y/N’s pants.” She huffs. “And because you’re about to lose the bet.”

Erwin’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “Bet? What bet?”

“Oh, you don’t know about the bet?” Hange asks. “It’s been going on for, like, five years now. The entire faculty’s in on it.” She begins to chow down on her soup, not offering more of an explanation. Moblit takes this as his cue to expand when he notices Erwin’s blank stare.

“Since you guys joined maybe... seven or so years ago? Everyone just assumed Y/N and Levi were a thing. Because of, y’know, the way they interact with each other. But then five years ago Hange and I asked them when their anniversary was so we could get them some wine, and both of them full on denied even being in a relationship.”

Hange nods, more than a spoonful of soup and a more than generous bite of bread in her mouth. “Yeah, but then I peaked at their faculty files—“

“Peaked at their faculty files?” Erwin murmurs, but he’s ignored.

“—and they have the same home address. They live together!”

“I can confirm that much, at least.” The blonde man answers thoughtfully. “They’ve been sharing a dorm since college but Y/N moved out at some point. They live together in Levi’s apartment now, though.”

“That doesn’t prove anything.” Says Moblit. “They could just be roommates and really good friends.”

“Well I’ll say!” Hange throws her hands in the air. “I caught Y/N sucking Levi’s dick at a party once. Must be one hell of a friendship they have, aye Moblit?”

Her elbow begins nudging the brunette beside her, and Erwin stares with amusement when Moblit starts getting irritated from the eccentric woman’s teasing.

“So what’s the wager?” Erwin asks.

The two professors stop their bickering and share an evil smile. Hange gestures for Erwin to come closer, as if she were about to tell him a secret, and he does just that.

“Whoever wins the bet gets a free meal from Shaw’s Bistro.”

Erwin’s eyes widen. Shaw’s Bistro; the classy high end restaurant with the fancy wine, fancier atmosphere, and the best Japanese Salted Salmon he’s ever had.

It was an expensive restaurant— even for someone with his salary. Erwin knew he could rarely ever eat there unless he wanted to run his bank account dry. And he concludes that this petty bet must be a Pretty Big Fucking Deal.

He squints his eyes. “I’m listening.”

Hange giggles as she continues. “Basically, you have to guess how long it’ll take for Y/N and Levi to finally admit they’re couple. But you can’t choose the same answer as other people in the bet, we can’t afford two winners. Literally.” She gestures to Moblit. “Unless you’re like dumb dumb over there who wagered they’ll never admit it because they’re not a couple—“

“They’re not!”

“—I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

Erwin nods his head, one hand on his chin in thought. He never did explicitly ask whether they were dating or not, he just assumed they were.

He carefully considers his options; be a snoop to his longterm friends and possibly break their trust for joining a foolish bet? Or Japanese Salted Salmon from Shaw’s Bistro?

Hange and Moblit look at him expectantly, smiling when he nods.

“Deal me in.”

The cafeteria was noisy when you walked in.

Students mingled amongst themselves, chatting idly about academics and gossip. Cutlery scraped against each other as people took bites of their meals. Your eyes scanned the crowd, spotting your friends sitting around their usual table and having what seemed to be a heated discussion.

You turned to look at the man beside you. “Did you bring your own lunch today?”

Levi nods as he lifts up a small black bag. “Always do. But I’ll stand next to you in the lunch line so you don’t look like a loner.”

That was Levi Speak for I’ll wait for you.

You smile. “Thanks.”

The brief silence between you is broken when you start talking about your students— how proud you were that Armin was tutoring some of the struggling students in his free time, how terrible Jean was at hiding his crush on Mikasa, how terrible Mikasa was at hiding her crush on Eren (“I don’t even think she’s trying to hide it. At this point, I’m convinced that Eren is either dumb or dense.”)

Levi nods along to your tales, seemingly uninterested and bored. But anyone who knew him well would know he was listening intently as you spoke, every word heard loud and clear and processing in his mind as soon as they left your lips. Occasionally, he would pipe in with his own comments (“Eren’s just dumb.”) but he didn’t engage too much, opting to let you speak and rant on.

Your talkativeness never got on his nerves, contrary to popular belief. He liked listening to your stories, listening to your voice, and seeing the little glint in your eyes when you start talking passionately about your students. He overall just liked being around you. You were cleaner than most people he knew. You were tolerable. Sometimes a pain in the ass, but still tolerable.

But what does get on his nerves, however, is being ‘secretly’ watched by his friends.

Once he’s sure you’re not looking, he turns his head in the direction of their table, murderous glare prominent on his face. Hange, Moblit, and Erwin quickly snap their heads down and pretend to eat, but Levi knew they were definitely staring.

“Oh crap, I forgot my free meal card.” He hears you mumble beside him. He hadn’t even realized you were already standing in front of the counter.

“Figures. You have the memory of a gold fish.” Levi comments off-handedly.

He hands the cashier his free meal card and grabs your tray for you, and you silently took the coat that Levi had swung over his arm to carry with you instead. You knew he’d hate for it to get dirtied by any accidental soup splashing.

“So, what’s happening on your end of the gossip?” You ask, both making your way to your usual table with friends.

Levi shrugs. “The brats are doing well on their thesis. Their grammar is shit though; makes you wonder how they graduated high school.”

You snicker. “You say that now but tomorrow pull an all-nighter to help them study and revise.”

“You’re not one talk. You scheduled two different consultations between classes and three more after your shift.”

“I can’t help it, okay?! You know I have a soft spot for the kids from the 104th.”

Of course he did. He knew of your affection for that specific group of students— admittedly, he held a twinge of affection for them too.

They were part of the first class you ever taught in your entire teaching career. At the time, you both worked at some crappy school in the 104th district. And to see the kids now, all grown up and studying at a prestigious college, it made your heart swell. And Levi’s heart... well, suffice to say it cracked some of the ice around it.

“That soft spot of yours is making you lose sleep.” He scolds. “I’ll take some of the consultations off your hands. The lil shits deserve a teacher who isn’t half asleep.”

Again, that was Levi Speak for Don’t overwork yourself, let me help.

You jokingly slap his arm. “That’s rude!”

“I know.”

Your conversation is interrupted when you finally arrived at the table, Levi setting down your tray in front of you and you handing him back his coat as you sat down next to each other.

“Hey.” You greet your friends, and Levi silently unpacks his lunch. “What were you guys talking about? It looked pretty intense.”

“Oh, nothing, nothing.” Hange waved off. “Just the usual. Grading papers, grading lab experiments, grading essays. The usual.”

You nod, unconvinced but letting it slide. “I see.”

The table is once again filled with laughter and conversations. Banter was thrown around here and there, mostly between you, Hange, and Moblit as you debated about films and TV shows. Levi and Erwin stuck to light chatter, but it didn’t go unnoticed to the shorter man when Erwin’s eyes squinted as Levi placed his arm around the back of your chair like he always did, or when Hange tried to hide her squeal when he wiped some excess soup from the corner of your lips.

Something was up.

It was about ten minutes into lunch when your phone began to ring, a notification from a reminder app you downloaded. You picked up your phone and sighed as you read your schedule.

“Gotta go. I have a meeting in a few.” You mutter, beginning to clean up your tray and utensils; you were a little disappointed. You didn’t even get to finish your soup.

Levi eyes you and the way you kept glancing back and forth between your soup and the clock. He sighs before he speaks, “I’ll take care of your dishes and buy you lunch later. Just go.”

“No, no, I can— fuck!” You yell when the bowl of soup is accidentally knocked over, spilling over your jacket.

Levi silently offers you his handkerchief to clean yourself up. He starts using napkins to clean the table as well, before taking the coat he brought and giving it to you.

“Use this for now.”

You smile at him once again, taking your coat off and slipping on his as you stood up. “Thanks.”

He doesn’t flinch (or react for that matter) when you kiss his cheek before you left, only letting out a small hum of acknowledgement as you waved goodbye to your friends and made your way to the meeting.

Once you were out of view, Hange’s smile immediately drops in favor of too serious eyes as she starts interrogating Levi.

“Okay, cut the crap, Ackerman. How long have you—“

“Hange, no, we’ve talked about this.” Erwin tries to reason but his pleas fall on deaf ears as she continues.

“How long have you and Y/N been dating?”

Ah. So that’s what it was about.

Levi sighs and continues to chew on his bread. He unenthusiastically stares at the woman yelling at him, swallowing his meal before speaking, “I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again: we’re not.”

“Bullshit!” She yells. “You guys are a disgusting old married couple who have two adopted children—“

“Dogs.” Levi corrects boredly, but just like everyone else at the table, he’s ignored as Hange continues her tirade.

“—have matching sweaters, do small bullshit for each other like paying for meals and lending your coats. And for god’s sake, they literally just kissed your cheek even though you hate human contact.”

She finishes her rant but Levi looks unphased. God, she wanted to punch his dumb and oblivious face so bad.

“Those are normal things normal friends do. I’m not surprised you wouldn’t know, four-eyes.” Says Levi, but Hange is unaffected and already used to his abrasive words.

Levi continues. “We don’t do anything beyond what’s considered friendship.”

Hange squints her eyes in suspicion. “Didn’t Y/N move into your apartment?”

“Yeah. Their landlord was shit.”

“Where I caught you having sex?”

“We’re fuck buddies and you don’t know how to knock.”

“But you introduced them to your mom as your fiancé?”

“I lied so she would stop bugging me about getting married.”

“You literally have a shared bank account and a shared retirement fund!”

“It’s easier to keep track of.”

“Damn it, Levi!”

Armin stares at the study guide in front of him, mind half processing the words and half... not. Quite frankly, he starts to wonder if the papers you’d given him were written in gibberish or some dead language no one spoke anymore.

You see him struggle to understand the sheet of paper in front of him, and sigh.

“Need a little help there, Armin?” You offer but he shakes his head. “I’m okay. I think I can understand this if I read through it more, it’s my friends I’m worried about.”

He glances beside him where the rest of his study group also stared the papers, each face painted with a unique mixture of confusion and dread.

You weren’t surprised, however. The readings for this module were quite complex, and the fact that your brightest students— Armin and Mikasa— were struggling with it made you feel a little bit hopeless for the rest of your class. Truth be told, even though you taught this topic countless of times, you weren’t entirely sure how to simplify it without leaving out too much information.

“Okay, how about this, we could—“ A soft knock interrupts your sentence, and you stare at the students in front of you to remember if you were expecting any more. It seemed like everyone was here, however, so you weren’t sure who was at the door.

“It’s me.” Came Levi’s voice, almost like he heard your inner monolgue.

“Come in!” You called out, focus shifting back to the paper in front of you as you heard the door open and close.

Okay, so I guess I could take this part and summarize it for them? Or would that still be too complicated? No, maybe I can—

“Ah, it’s that topic.” Levi mumurs, snapping you out of your thoughts. His face was directly next to yours as he stared intently at the papers you held. “No wonder you all look like you’re about to crap your pants.”

“Language, Levi. Not in front of the students.” You scold.

“They curse more than I do.”

“Still.”

He ignores your comment as he hands you a brown paper bag, pulling a chair out to sit next to you. He grabs the paper from your hands to look over the study guide you prepared, undoubtedly trying to figure out a way to simplify it as well.

“What’s this?” You ask, opening the paper bag.

“Bought you dinner.” He replies, eyes not leaving the paper in front of him. “I figured you’d forget again.”

As if on cue, your stomach suddenly starts feeling empty. It was impossible that you were hungry, though. You just had lunch. And after lunch you had some meetings to attend to, a couple classes, some last minute consultations, and— okay. Maybe it’d been a couple hours since lunch, but it couldn’t be that bad. A brief glance at the clock confirms that—

“Holy shit, it’s almost 8pm.”

“Language, Y/N. Not in front of the students.”

“Kiss my ass.”

“Gladly.”

The students in front of you let out a loud groan, faces over exaggeratedly contorted in disgust at your and Levi’s conversation.

Levi glimpses up at them and raises his eyebrow in question, while you jokingly roll your eyes.

“Alright, I think we should continue our consultation another time.” You said, beginning to pack up your teaching materials as the students did the same. “It’s getting late and curfew’s at 8pm. I’d better not see any of you outside the dorms.”

You knew you would though. It’s Friday night, there’s a bar across the street, and they’re teenagers. What could possibly go wrong?

You turn to Levi and hand him the keys. “You go ahead to the car, I’ll finish packing up.”

“It’s alright, I’ll wait for you in the hallway.” Levi takes the car keys as he stands up, walking out the door once again and leaving you alone with your students.

As you began to arrange your papers and clear the table, you start to remind them, “Okay, so we can discuss chapters—“

“Are you and Professor Ackerman dating?” Eren asks curiously, earning a shove from Jean and a silent threat to shut up, dumbass.

You chuckle. “No, Eren. We’re not.”

He gives you a doubtful look, one which you only return with a curious face.

“What’s with that look?” You ask, and he shrugs.

“You should date him— ow, what?!” He speaks, getting shoved by both Reiner and Jean this time before Mikasa pulls them off of him. You pause from your task.

“Okay, I’ll humor you. Why should I date him?”

The students share a look, daring each other to respond to your bold question. A few tense moments pass by and you smugly continue packing your papers. Yeah, you figured no one would—

“He’s nicer when he’s with you.” To your surprise, it was Mikasa who answers.

Unsure how to answer but still wanting to remain professional, you nod your head without looking up from your task. “Duly noted. Now go on, I know you have parties to attend to. I won’t hold you here much longer.”

The students laughed as they said their goodbyes; you held the door open for them until everyone was out before you left as well, shutting down the lights and locking the room once more.

A warm hand makes its way to the small of your back, and you smile.

“Hey.” Levi greets.

“Hey.” You repeat. “You read to go?”

“Yeah.”

“Wanna share my dinner when we get back home?”

“...yeah.”

He takes the stack of paper from your arms, his free hand reaching out for your own. You walked down the hallway in relative silence, interlocked hands swinging slightly from every step.

From the opposite corner of the hallway, the students’ prying eyes observe the small interaction; the two professors remained completely unaware that they were being watched.

“Told you they were a thing.” Ymir gloats, and the group snickers as Reiner irritatedly hands her some money.

Something was wrong.

If there was one thing Erwin knew from the nearly two decade long friendship he shared with you and Levi, it was when something was wrong.

It didn’t go unnoticed to him when Levi didn’t open your side of the car door as he usually would when you arrived at the parking lot; when he made a beeline for his cubicle in the faculty instead of helping you get settled first; when you didn’t make a fresh pot of tea for him before classes started; when your small sweet gestures throughout the day were kept to a minimal; and most importantly, when neither you nor Levi wore your matching gold rings.

The faculty was nearly empty, save for himself, Hange, Moblit, and the two people who were having a lover’s quarrel. The entire day went by without seeing you two walk side by side like you usually would, and Erwin was pretty sure Levi’s permanent frown somehow got deeper.

Yeah. Something was horribly wrong.

“Pssst.” Erwin hears from the desk next to his. He turns around and is met with Hange and Moblit’s curious gazes.

“The hell happened to those two? Trouble in paradise?” Hange asks, eyeing Y/N and Levi’s grouchy faces and refusal to acknowledge each others’ existence as they each packed their things. She adds on, “Are they getting divorced?” Only to be reminded by Moblit that “They’re not dating.”

Erwin shrugs, answering Hange’s question. “No idea.”

Moblit chimes in, “I heard Petra tried asking Levi out yesterday and now Y/N is jealous.”

She scoffs. “Y/N isn’t the jealous type. Besides, Petra’s part of the bet so that means she thinks they’re going to get together.”

“I’m part of the bet and I don’t think they’re going to get together.” Moblit points out. “And Petra stares at Levi the way Levi stares at Y/N.”

“Full of disdain and irritation?” Hange asks.

“No,” Erwin finally interjects. “Full of love and admiration.”

“Can the three of you creeps keep your mouths shut?” Hange, Erwin, and Moblit’s heads snapped to the direction of the voice, eyes meeting a pissed off Levi with a pissed off Y/N beside him. It seems like their hushed whispering wasn’t so hushed at all.

“When you gossip about our private life the least you could do is wait until we’ve left the room.” You gritted.

“No, it wasn’t-” Hange tries to defend herself but is cut off by Levi, “We already heard you talking. Now out with it before I change my mind about letting this slide.”

The three guilty professors sigh, sharing a look before Erwin decides to come clean. “We’re concerned for you.” He starts. “You’ve been ignoring each other the entire day and whatever this fight is, it’s the worst one I’ve seen you have.”

You sigh. “Listen, it’s not that we don’t appreciate your concern, it’s just that-”

“-it’s just that it’s none of your goddamn business.” Levi interjects and you immediately glare at his rudeness.

“Shut it, Levi. I don’t have time for your bull.”

“And I don’t have time for your petty lies.”

The three watched as you and Levi begin to quarrel, sharp words and irritated glares thrown around with each passing second. Your voices overlapped with each other as Erwin tried to make sense of what it was you were even fighting about, some words about betrayal in the highest degree and ruining a good thing and a relationship built on lies being the few words he understands.

Finally, he has enough.

“Stop.” Erwin says loudly but firmly. The two of you pause from your bickering him and stare at him incredulously; he continues to speak, “We’re not teenagers anymore, we’re grown adults. I’m getting tired of playing mediator whenever you fight but if I have to do it again so you stop yelling, then I will.”

He sighs. “Now what the hell are you two fighting about?”

“Y/N started it.” “Levi started it.” You say at the same time, and Erwin feels a headache coming but decides to ignore it.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

The two of you stare at each other angrily, almost daring the other to back down. This goes on for a few seconds before Levi finally sighs and speaks.

“Y/N thinks lemon scented detergent is better than lavender scented detergent.”

Hange and Moblit snicker but quickly shut up when Erwin gives them a look. He wasn’t even surprised that a fight as small and menial as this would be the fight that tears his favorite power couple apart.

“It is and you know it.” You reply defiantly and Levi groans in frustration, hand holding his head in disbelief as he quietly mutters, “I can’t believe I’m marrying someone who thinks lemon is better than lavender.”

At that, Hange’s ears perk up. “You’re getting married?!” She screams, and the two of you look at her in confusion, fight suddenly forgotten.

“Yeah, next week.” You reply wearily. “We emailed you the invites.”

If Erwin thought your bickering was loud, then the squeal that Hange let out was nothing short of deafening as she suddenly lunges at the couple, forcing them into a group hug as she cheers, “I knew it! I fucking knew it! You are together.”

Levi scoffs. “Don’t be silly, it’s for tax purposes. Apparently the bank won’t approve the loan for our new house unless we’re legally wed; something about tax fraud.”

“House?” Moblit echoes. “Don’t you already live together?”

You nod. “Yeah, but we figured the kids-”

“Dogs.” Levi corrects.

“-deserve a yard to run around in. Our apartment’s getting too cramped for the four of us.”

“Don’t ruin this for me!” Hange yells. “I have a wedding to plan.”

Levi sighs. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, four-eyes. There isn’t going to be a ceremony. We’re going to a court house to get our marriage license approved. That’s it.”

“And we invited you and Erwin to be our witnesses.” You explained. “There isn’t going to be a celebration but we’re going to host a small dinner party for close friends and family.We’d greatly appreciate it if you can RSVP to the emails within the week so we know how much food to prepare.”

The three professors nod, each exchanging pleasant smiles. It wasn’t the wedding invite they were hoping to receive but it was still a wedding invite nonetheless, and they weren’t about to burst your bubble.

“Hold on a second,” Erwin mutters, suddenly remembering one detail. “Where are your rings?” He gestures to your ringless hands.

“We had them engraved with our initials. Makes things more believable.” Levi answers. “If you’re done with the dumb questions, we’ll go ahead now.”

He doesn’t wait for them to answer as he holds your hand in his, walking you out of the faculty room and into the hallway as he pretends not to notice his friends giggling like teenagers at the information you just shared.

“So...” You start, giving him a warm smile as you squeezed his hand. “Do you think they’re catching on?”

Levi lets out a rare smile, eyes softening as he looks at you. “No. They’re too dumb to know we’re actually together. They’ll eat up whatever bullshit explanation we come up with.”

“Okay, but remind me again why we have to keep pretending like we’re not actually together and not actually getting married next week?”

He brings your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles affectionately before placing his hand on the small of your back.

“Does it bother you that they don’t know?” He asks, and you hum as you think it through. “No. It’s actually really entertaining.” You laugh. “But why don’t you want them to know?”

He shrugs, pulling you closer to him. “That’s what they get for placing stupid bets.”

If you want to be added to the tag list, click this link!

#tis cute tis cute #ngl i hope i didn't make it too long like last time #i have a bad habit of writing innner monologues too long lmao #writing #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman imagine #levi imagine #snk x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #snk imagine #shingeki no kyojin imagine #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #aot imagine #attack on titan imagine

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yostresswritinggirl · 4 years

Note

Do you do poly ships? :0 if not feel free to do these two characters separately lol May I get some hcs of Zhongli and Venti on a picnic date with the reader? Just a quiet day in the sun where the Archons can relax for a moment and watch the world go by :D (if you wanna insert some angst maybe they suddenly realize this moment is fleeting bc reader is mortal and won't be with them forever?? Up to you lol 👀) thank you in advance!!!

I actually don't :D kidding ahahah

What I meant to say was that I haven't wrote anything related to poly relationship before so this a cool, first experience for me! And like the dumbass that I am, I took on this request and butchered the heck outta it. Welcome to "A Day In The Life Loving Two Broke Gods"-

Rendezvous with the Gods

Picnic Scenario with Poly!Venti, Zhongli, and You

Background!

It's pretty WACK how you got two of the seven archons to be interested in you in a romantic level.

But I can imagine that the thing that attracted them the most to you is your sense of humanity. As ex-archons, what they needed now is a sense of normalcy and a grasp on reality, and with your knowledge and presence they've come to realize the ways of the mortals fairly easily.

But like, you got the two oldest archons in existence. Even the Traveler is in disbelief at this turn of events.

I think you somehow ended up in this situation when the two of them had a reunion after their retirement, and the conversation went like this: "Have you heard of the fair maiden, (Y/N)? Their existence greatly reminds me of Celestia!" "I had the honor of meeting them yes, how tantalizing they are, even the slightest sight of them invigorates me through the whole day."

They'd shower you with praises among one another, and you're forced to sneeze for an hour straight somewhere in Teyvat.

Preparation!

*wheeze*

First thing I thought was "How probable is it that Venti drinks Dandelion Wine at 4 in the afternoon?"

The answer is yes.

You three have planned this picnic days ahead, maybe even a week. As all of you have your own work and errands to deal with, probably not Venti tho, a gathering of this magnitude that requires you three to be present for hours are not as common as you'd think.

First order of business: location! The most obvious answer would have been Starsnatch Cliff, Windrise or even Dihua Marsh.

While thinking, Venti and Zhongli ended up sharing a look, and suddenly the location was settled.

No, you don't know where it is, and they tell you that they'll handle it.

You don't have to worry.

You are very worried.

Next, the food! Being in a relationship with two broke Gods made you the alpha in terms of Mora, and on this occasion, you're once again forced to put your foot down and provide.

With that in mind, both of them could only offer a guilty smile and a nervous laugh.

The outcome of your meal depends on your cooking skills really: if you're good or decent, what a heart-warming picnic that would be.

They must have tasted your cooking before so they would ask for requests on your delicious home cooking —

something light that goes with tea, said Zhongli.

something meaty and heavy to pair with wine, said Venti.

It's a wonder how you deal with these two together.

If you're absolutely terrible at cooking, like Suspicious Dish™ rating, you're gonna have to rely on your Mora to get takeout for this date.

Everything else you've pretty much wrapped up quickly, all you have to do now is wait.

Picnic Time!

Venti was the one to pick you up from your housing to guide you to the location, greeting you with a chaste kiss on the cheek before aiming for the picnic basket hanging by your elbow.

You don't let him; he might eat it on the way there honestly

Cute boy is practically shaking with excitement as he hauls you up over a cliff face and carefully nyoom! over the sea

Where is he taking you?

You didn't dwell much longer when you saw a small island in the distance, a rock formation by the edge and most notably, you're tall lover standing next to an elegant patterned brown and gold blanket placed over the sea of flora.

Welcome to Heart Island!

Very cheesy

The Geo archon greets you with a kiss on the hand before being tackled to the ground by a buzzing Venti.

How that was physically possible was beyond you-

You set up and laid down all the food you got for today's picnic: Fresh apples, 'Breakfast' Sandwich, Chicken and Mushroom Skewers!

You've also noticed a picnic basket to the side that wasn't yours. Noticing your stare, Zhongli pulled out his contributions: Mora Meat, a pitcher of Iced Tea, and a bowl of Mushroom Stew.

Out of nowhere, Venti manifests his own offerings to the table: Apples, Dandelion Wine and Mondstadt Hash Browns.

You have no idea how these two managed to prepare or afford such meals but you appreciate it nonetheless.

They had the whole week to save up Mora just for this picnic, how cute aww

The first to take a bite is Venti, defo. You and Zhongli would be prepping the utensils while the Anemo boy sneaks some food into his mouth, even if you smack his hand multiple times, he's not gonna relent.

A lot of catching up happens in this picnic: your wild commissions, Venti's recent performances, Zhongli's uh consultant stuff.

These are the rare moments where Zhongli isn't the one filling up the conversation more, satisfied with hearing the voices of his lovers and listening to their joys or woes.

The whole picnic is accompanied by Venti's lyre, strumming softly, unrelenting, to make sure all of you are enjoying the serenity of the island.

You and Zhongli take turns spoon feeding him cuz he just won't stop PLAYING

Zhongli made the Iced Tea

Very refreshing, right amount of sweet, would honestly be a good alternative for Venti's alcoholism

Speaking of, he's tipsy now

He's on a full-blown performance now, serenading and urging you two into a dance after eating "to digest the food faster"

Not really believable but you danced anyways.

Zhongli would decline first as he starts cleaning up

But give him a little more nudge, pull on his hand, he'll crave eventually

Rex Lapis is actually a pretty decent dancer

HAVE YOU SEEN HOW GRACEFUL HE DROP KICKS HIS SPEAR

Such a relaxing day off the three of you deserve

By the time the sun already dipped the horizon and you guys still had time to spare, you and Venti would be dozing off on the blanket while leaving the few remaining clean up to Zhongli. It was a tiring yet enjoyable day that's deserving of a nice and dreamy nap.

"Morax..." He'd hear an uncharacteristically somber voice as he makes his way over to where you both lay. Your back resting on the Anemo archon's chest as he spoons you. His teal eyes stare unmoving at your open palm of which the Geo archon takes into his as he sits down.

Little cuts litter your rough hands, from your adventures, some fresh from today to prepare your dishes. How frail and sensitive mortal hands are.

"I'll miss them, so so much." Venti confessed as his grip around you tightens, free-flowing tears erupt from his eyes that are unfocused, as if he was years away with that thousand yards stare that the other God had familiarized himself with.

For the second time in his whole lifetime, Rex Lapis found himself at a loss for words.

------

"Ohhh, a luxurious chest! What's it doing so far out here?" The Traveler lets the floating companion ramble as they pull the chest open, excited for the new artifacts they'll come by.

A teal goblet with gold accents worn out through the years from disuse as parts of its paint are chipped off as gray splotches, laid perfectly in the middle of a brown wool blanket with intricate gold and silver geometric patterns. On each side lays an Anemoculus and Geoculus, softly glowing yet dimming in pulses.

They pick it up with utmost care for safe-keeping, to ask for their archon friends in the future. Who knows, it might be the closure they needed.

This took some time and a lot of pondering wow! This is even more chaotic than the Albedo one ahahah I've made myself sad just thinking about this— anyways thank you so much for requesting and your lovely support! Please let our archon bbs be happy ywy

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oh-for-fic-sake · 3 years

Text

Fearfull Proposal

Summary: henry plans a romantic proposal... and instead of coming clean about your secret fear of heights and ruining his romantic plan, you put on a brave face... well until your nearing the top of the london eye.

Warnings: fear, fluff, swearing, typos.

You quivered as you rose higher and higher over londons skyline.

Fuck why? Why the fuck had you got in this dangling glass death trap. A faulty few bolts and you'd be plummeting into the fucking thames!

Henry was standing by the window looking out at the glittering lights in awe.

You were standing with your back turned to the houses of Parliament hands clutching the rail eitherside of you knuckles white. Knees knocking.

God this was the stupidest thing you'd ever fucking done! And it was your own fault.

"Babe, look! God big ben looks soo small never been on this at night"

You hummed nodding but continued looking to the floor.

Henry paused when you didnt correct him with the whole 'big ben is the bell' you usually countered

He turned looking back to you and his stomach dropped.

"Babe? Whoa are you okay there love?" He asked frowning as he saw your eyes clenched shut almost as if you were in pain.

You were trembling and pale to the point he fearded youd pass out.

"Here come sit down and relax, i packed some snacks-" he said placing the specially packed bag of snacks and screw top mini wine bottles.

"No! No I'm fine... I will just stay here... By the saftey bar" you said giggling nervously sparing him a glance and patting the metal you were holding onto for dear life..

Henry faltered and really took in your apperance unsure what to do. It wasn't like he could get you off, you had to ride the ride.

"Babe? Are you scared of heights?"

"Nooo dont be sillyeee- OH MY GOD IM GONNA FUCKING DIE!" you began laughing him off then screamed as the ride stopped.

Instantly you ducked crouching whilst wrapping your arms around the silver bar shouting bloody murder.

It didn't help you were bathed in purple light so couldn't see shit.

Henry got up and rushed to you standing over you arms rounding you holding you securly.

"No, no its fine love... shh its fine baby, they said it could stop to let people on poppet remember?" He said quickly rubbing your sides as you cowered trying to fend off the temptation to look at the thames below.

"Y-yeah fuck hen- im sorry i just..." you mewled turning towards him tucking your head to his chest.

"Scared of heights huh? Why didnt you tell me?" He sighed pressing kisses to your head as you whimpered adn the ride began moving once again.

"Because you went to all this trouble, you planned this surprise and i didnt want to ruin it, you were soo excited" you sniffled blinking at him.

"Hey shh you silly girl, you should have told me. You wouldnt have ruined anything you silly sausage" he cooed winding himself around you tighter.

He was actually annoyed at himself, how the fuck had he not known his girlfriend of a year and a half was scared of heights?

He'd suspected a fear of heights when you both went on holiday for your birthday, but youd managed to convince him it was a fear of flying and planes... not heights.

And come to think of it you didnt even like the glass lifts in shopping centers, you ran to the corner and held on eyes locked onto the doors the entire time.

So this was the worst surprize he could of planned for tonight. Things weren't going to plan. Fuck.

"Babe im sorry" he apologised feeling like an asshole.

"No no dont be, this was extremly sweet bear" you said quickly not wantin to make him feel bad fpr your own short commings.

"Theres noting sweet about terrifying you"

"Do... do you want to sit down? Ill hold you the entire time" he offered peaking to the central bench where both your bags sat.

"I.. yes okay i think sitting will be better" you said then yipped as he prompty scooped you up and placed you in his lap securly.

"Im so sorry love, I just wanted to make this special and romantic" he muttered holding you as close as he could letting you know that you were safe and sound.

"It is! It is love really im just a baby" you said quickly grasping his face pulling him closer before peppering his face with kisses.

"Your not a babe we all have our fears" he said quietly pressing his forehead to yours.

"You dont" you sighed closing your eyes trying to ignore the snails pace of the pod that still rose over london.

You could barely feel it, but your fear amplified it.

"Oh but i do~" he replied peering at you, as yur eyes fluttered open.

"Like what?" The questionnescaped before you could think.

"No" he said eyes now becoming worried, anxiety clouding them.

"No?"

"Yes, at the moment thats my biggest fear" he said releasing a shakey breath as you frowned at him not following but didnt dwell as your ees darted to the side seeing the houses

"You see, i was trying to be all romantic and wait untill we got tp the top, but i think you'll be too terrified"

"Henry?" You said leaning back unsure about the serious tone he seemed to take.

"I brought us here, to the spot we met two years ago today..." he said drawing deeper breaths as the reality of what was about to happen hit him.

"Was it really?" You asked surprized he'd remember something like that. Anniversary? Definitely. But the day you first met? And asked for a selfie with a series of embarrassing squeaks? No you didnt think he'd remember.

"Yep. I remember doing a promo and shoot on this thing, then got off and was sat next to you in wagamama"

"And i squeaked for a selfie" you groaned with a small giggle.

"Im glad you did, i scanned instagram for days after- scouring my hashtag trying to find you... i kicked myself for not getting your number~"

"I still cant belive you did that... but im gld you did henry"

"Who'd have thought the nervous little thing trying not to even breath in my direction would be my girlfriend six months down the line"

"Or that we'd last this long?" You quipped at him trying to reme,ber to breath.

"And.. hopefully a lifetime? Despite me dragging you intoyour actual living nightmare- which i promise to never do again! Not even lifts"

You scowled and tilted your head to him not sure if you heard him correctly.

Untill he pulled the small velvet box from his pocket.

"Henry?! What? You cant be serious?"

"Oh but i am love, as much as i want to do this right and drop to one knee i doubt you'll thank me for releasing you?"

"Dont you dare let me go!"

"I think you'll find im trying to do the opposite~" he chuckled opening the box revealing the simple elegant ring three tiny diamonds.

"Im trying to marry you..."

You gasped eyes glazing over as you locked on to the dainty ring pinched between his fingers.

"I love you y/n, and i want to know if you'd become my wife and share your life with me. Will you marry me?"

"Oh god yes of course its a yes henry i love you bear!" You cried throwing your arms around him making him grunt and quickly clench his fist arohnd the ring before he dropped it.

He groaned into you rocking from side to side littering your head with kisses before peeling you away to sit the ring on your finger.

You looked at the glittering stones on your finger weeping. You may have been cursing yourself for getting into this godforsaken glass bauble in the sky.

But now you were he happiest woman alive.

"I love you bear"

"I love you too"

"Would you like some wine? I brough the little cute bottles you like" he offered nodding to the bag of snacks.

"Err lets not push it hun" you whined not sure wine at this altitude was a good idea.

You kept glancing at him still sniffing and giggleing unable to look from your ring for long.

"Gotcha, no wine"

"You look surprized i said yes?"you quipped needing to talk and take your mind off the fact your at the tippity top.

"I made you face one of your nightmares i thought you'd slap me silly when i ask" he scoffed pressing a kiss to your cheek unable to stop.

"Never love... but please never ever get on this thing again okay?" You pleaded fluttering your lashes at him pleading.

"I swear. Never again, but seeing as this is our one and only ride we should take a few selfies? Mark the occasion?" He said standing letting your feet hit the floor but never once did he let go.

"Absolutly, gotta show off my new fiancé" you hummed rising to share another kiss with him not really paying attention to the height you'd now reached, you had more important things to think about. Like sharing the rest of your life with this glorious man.

"My thoughts exactly" he grinned pulling out his phone aiming it at the two of you, makeing sure to have the hand that rested on his chest donning his ring in shot.

#henry cavill #henry cavill imagine #oh for fic sake headcannon #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x y/n

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gimme-mor · 3 years

Text

ACOTAR THINK PIECE: ELAIN AND THE CONCEPT OF CHOICE

*DISCLAIMER*

Please take the time to read this post in its entirety and truly reflect on the message I am trying to send before commenting. My goal is to use my background in Gender and Women’s Studies to deconstruct the behaviors and comments I have seen on Tumblr and Twitter, and, more importantly, bring awareness to the ACOTAR fandom. I WILL NOT tolerate anyone who tries to twist my words and say I am attacking people and their personal shipping preferences. In fact, I AM CRITIQUING THE ARGUMENTS THEMSELVES NOT THE PEOPLE USING THE ARGUMENTS.

As someone who has been a long time lurker on all sides of the ACOTAR fandom, the growing toxicity and hostility has become more apparent to the point that civil discourse is, for the most part, entirely lost. More times than not, the cause of the communication breakdown centers around Elain and the relationships she has with those around her. Before and after the release of ACOSF, I’ve noticed that when the fandom expresses its opinions about Elain and her development as a character, whether in a romantic light or generally, the conversation wholly hinges on the concept of choice. Common examples I’ve seen include:

Elain has been stripped of her choice for a majority of her life

Elain should be able to make her own choices

The King of Hybern took away Elain’s choice to be human when he had her tossed into the Cauldron

Elain did not choose the mating bond for herself, instead it was forced upon her

Elain feels pressured to choose Lucien

Elain should have the choice to stray away from what is expected of her

Elain and Azriel being together represents a different and stronger type of love because she’s choosing to be with him

If you ship Elucien, you’re not Pro-Elain because you’re taking away Elain’s right to choose who she wants to be with and forcing her to accept the mating bond

Elain chose to accept Azriel’s advances in the bonus chapter

When Rhysand called Azriel away after catching him and Elain together, Elain was stripped of her choice to be sexually intimate with Azriel

When Azriel and Rhysand are talking in the bonus chapter, Elain’s choices aren’t at the center of their conversation

If you suggest that Elain should leave the Night Court, you’re stripping Elain of her choice to remain with her family

If you suggest that Elain should be friends with someone else, you’re ignoring Elain’s choice to be friends with Nuala and Cerridwen

Why is the concept of choice exclusively tied to Elain and everything surrounding her character while simultaneously ignoring that other characters in the ACOTAR series have, to varying degrees, been stripped of their choices at some point in their lives? And why isn’t the concept of choice connected to these characters in the same way that it is connected to Elain? For example:

Did the High Lords strip Feyre of her choice to consent when they turned her into a High Fae?

Did Tamlin and Ianthe strip Feyre of her choice to consent when they started to control every aspect of her life in the Spring Court?

Was Vassa stripped of her choice when the other Mortal Queens sold her to Koschei, which resulted in her being cursed to turn into a firebird?

Was Feyre stripped of her choice to know the risks involved in the pregnancy?

Did the King of Hybern strip Nesta of her choice to be human when he had her tossed into the Cauldron?

Was everyone stripped of their choices under Amarantha’s rule?

Was Feyre stripped of her choice to just be a daughter and a sister when the Archeron family failed to contribute to their survival, which resulted in Feyre being the family’s sole provider?

Did Lucien’s family strip him and Jesminda of their choice to be together when they killed her because of her status as a Lesser Faerie?

Are Illyrian females stripped of their choice to consent when their wings are clipped?

Did the Hybern general strip Gwyn of her choice to consent?

Did Ianthe strip Lucien of his choice to consent?

Did Keir strip Mor of her choice to consent to her engagement to Eris?

Universally, femininity is synonymous with weakness and women often face discrimination because the patriarchy is part of an interactive system that perpetuates women’s oppression. Since the ACOTAR universe is set up to mirror a patriarchal society, it’s clear that the imbalance of power between males and females stems from sexism. The thing that sets Elain apart from other female characters in the ACOTAR series is the fact that SJM has portrayed Elain as a traditionally feminine character based on her actions and the ways in which Elain carries herself. Compared to them, Elain is inherently held to a different standard because her femalehood takes precedence over other aspects of her character in fandom discussions. These conversations indirectly place Elain on a pedestal and hail her as the epitome of traditional femininity; and when her character is criticized in any way, it’s seen as a direct attack against women, specifically women who are traditionally feminine. Also, these conversations fall back on Elain’s femaleness when analyzing her character since it can be assumed from a reader’s perspective that Elain, despite being the middle sibling, is coddled by those around her because her ultra-feminine nature is perceived as a sort of weakness in need of protection. However, the fact that the concept of choice is used as an argument to primarily focus on Elain’s femalehood highlights the narrow lens through which Elain, as a character, is viewed. It implies that Elain’s femaleness is all her character has to offer to the series overall and insinuates that Elain’s character development is dependent on her femaleness. To suggest, through the choice argument, that ACOTAR’s patriarchal society constrains Elain’s agency and prevents her from enacting her feminist right to choose while failing to examine the patriarchal structure of the ACOTAR universe and its impact on the female characters in the series, the choice argument ultimately falls apart because it shows that it’s only used to focus on Elain’s femalehood. Furthermore, the implication that Elain’s right to choose is, in itself, a feminist act in the series indicates that the concept of choice as an argument is used to promote choice feminism.

Feminism is a social movement that seeks to promote equality and equity to all genders, and feminists work toward eradicating gender disparities on a macro-level, in addition to challenging gender biases on a micro-level. Historically, feminism prioritized the voices of white women, specifically white women who were cisgender, able-bodied, affluent, educated, and heterosexual. But over the decades, the inclusion of women of color and other marginalized women’s voices has broadened the scope of feminism and caused it to take an intersectional approach when discussing social identities and the ways in which these identities result in overlapping systems of oppression and discrimination. On the other hand, choice feminism, a form of feminism, greatly differs from what feminism is aiming to accomplish. In the article “It’s Time to Move Past Choice Feminism”, Bhat states:

“Choice feminism can be understood as the idea that any action or decision that a woman takes inherently becomes a feminist act. Essentially, the decision becomes a feminist one because a woman chose it for herself. What could this look like? It could really be anything. Wearing makeup is a feminist act. Not wearing it is also a feminist act. Shaving or not shaving. Watching one TV show over another. Choosing a certain job over another. Listening to one artist over another. Picking a STEM career. Choosing to dress modestly or not. The list goes on. At first glance, there does not seem to be an apparent negative consequence of choice feminism. A woman’s power is within her choices, and those choices can line up with a feminist ideology. For example, a woman’s decision not to shave may be her response to Western beauty standards that are forced onto women. Not shaving may make her feel beautiful, comfortable, and powerful, and there is nothing wrong with that. Women making choices that make them feel good is not the issue. The issue lies in calling these decisions feminist ones. Choice feminism accompanies an amalgamation of problems‒the first being that this iteration of feminism operates on faulty assumptions about said choices. Liberal feminism neglects the different realities that exist for different women‒especially the difference between white women and women of color, transgender women and cis women, etc. Not all women have the same circumstance and access to choices, not all choices made by women are treated equally, and not all choices are inherently feminist” (https://www.34st.com/article/2021/01/feminism-choice-liberal-patriarchy-misogyny-bimbo-capitalism).

Just as white feminism ignores intersectionality and refuses to acknowledge the discriminations experienced by women of color, choice feminism and arguments supporting choice feminism have, by default, made the concept of choice exclusionary. The individualization of choice feminism glorifies the act of a woman making an individual choice and, by extension, gives the illusion that women’s liberation from gendered oppression can be achieved by enacting their rights to make personal, professional, and political choices. Herein lies the problem with choice feminism: it (the argument of “But it’s my choice!”) stifles feminist conversations from exploring the depths and intricacies of the decision making process because it’s used as a way to shut communication down entirely, shield arguments from criticism, and condemn those who criticize choice feminism for its disconnection from a larger feminist framework. Contrary to what choice feminism advocates for, it lulls the feminist movement into complacency because women’s individual choices do nothing to alleviate gendered oppression. Choice feminism’s leniency towards choice fails to address the limitations of choice in regards to women’s intersectional identities and enables society to shift the blame of women’s oppression away from the societal and institutional structures in place to women themselves for making the wrong choices that ultimately resulted in their circumstances. Choice is not always accessible to every woman. For instance, choices made by white women are, in some way, inaccessible to women of color, in the same way that choices made by cisgender women are inaccessible to transgender women. Choice is one of the founding concepts of the feminist movement and it “became a key part of feminist language and action as an integral aspect and rallying call within the fight for reproductive rights‒the right to choose whether or not we wanted to get pregnant and to choose what we wanted for our bodies and lives” (https://www.feministcurrent.com/2011/03/11/the-trouble-with-choosing-your-choice/). When choice, in a feminist context, is framed as something that is solely about the individual as opposed to the collective, the feminist foundation on which it stands “leads to an inflated sense of accomplishment while distracting from the collective action needed to produce real change that would have a lasting effect for the majority of women” (https://www.jacobinmag.com/2017/03/i-am-not-feminist-jessa-crispin-review/).

By linking the choice argument with choice feminist rhetoric and extreme acts of progressiveness, it plays into today’s negative understanding of a social justice warrior and normalizes fake wokeness. In its original conception, a social justice warrior was another way to refer to an activist and had a positive connotation; nowadays, the term carries a negative connotation and is:

“. . . a pejorative term for an individual who repeatedly and vehemently engages in arguments on social justice on the Internet, often in a shallow or not well-thought-out way, for the purpose of raising their own personal reputation. A social justice warrior, or SJW, does not necessarily strongly believe all that they say, or even care about the groups they are fighting on behalf of. They typically repeat points from whoever is the most popular blogger or commenter of the moment, hoping that they will ‘get SJ points’ and become popular in return. They are very sure to adopt stances that are ‘correct’ in their social circle” (https://fee.org/articles/how-the-term-social-justice-warrior-became-an-insult/).

Today’s perception of the term social justice warrior is directly tied to fake wokeness because both are performative in nature, fueled by the drive to be seen as progressive, and derail necessary conversations from taking place by prioritizing toxicity. According to the article titled, “Three signs of fake ‘wokeness’ and why they hurt activism”, it states:

“. . . social media did not create activism: it did, however, create a legion of hashtags and accounts dedicated to issues . . . Sadly, fake woke people will use these hashtags or create these accounts, see that as contributing to a cause, and just call it a day; these same people tend to shame those without the same level of interest or devotion to a given cause . . . Ironically, as open-minded as the fake woke claim to be, they struggle to deal with opposition. More often than not, those who fit the fake woke bill will ignore, misconstrue, or shutdown anything remotely opposing their stances . . . Now yes, human nature often leads us to possess a bias against that which contradicts our views, but human nature should not serve as an excuse for irrational behavior. Opposition to our stances on issues helps activists more than it harms: it allows them to look at the causes they champion from a perspective they possibly ignored before, further enlightening them. More importantly, by discovering information that may refute what they believe, they can find and eliminate any flaws in their reasoning and strengthen their arguments. Activism involves opening up to change, something one stuck in an echo chamber can never achieve” (https://nchschant.com/16684/opinions/three-signs-of-fake-wokeness-and-why-they-hurt-activism/).

Rather than critiquing ideas, thoughts, and theories about Elain and her character development with textual evidence, the concept of choice as an argument is used to silence opposing viewpoints. This is similar to choice feminism because the conversations start and end with the concept of choice, leaving no room for a critical analysis of Elain’s character. Although the concept of choice as an argument is intended to shed light on how ACOTAR’s patriarchal structure limits females’ agency to some degree, the fact that it’s only applied to Elain invalidates the point of the argument because it doesn’t include the experiences of other female characters when examining the impact of sexism in the ACOTAR universe. The failure to do so calls the intent of the choice argument into question. As it stands, the concept of choice as an argument frames Elucien shippers and those who are critical of Elain as woman haters, misogynists, and anti-feminists, especially if they identify as women. The belief that a woman is anti-feminist or a woman hater any time she dislikes another woman suggests that women have to be held to a different emotional standard than men. If men are able to dislike other individual men without their characters being compromised, why can’t women? Feminism and what it means to be a feminist do not require women to like every woman they encounter. One of the many things feminism hopes to accomplish is granting women the same emotional privileges afforded to men.

Terms like “oppression”, “the right to choose”, “feminist”, “feminism”, “anti-feminist”, “anti-feminism”, “internalized misogyny”, “misogyny”, “misogynist”, “sexist”, “sexism”, “racist”, “racism”, “classist”, “classism”, “discrimination”, and “patriarchy” are all used in specific ways to draw attention to the plight of marginalized people and challenge those who deny the existence of systems of oppression. Yet these words and their meanings can be twisted to attack, exclude, and invalidate people with differing opinions on any given topic. When social justice and feminist terms are thrown around antagonistically and carelessly to push a personal agenda, it becomes clear that these terms are being used to engage in disingenuous discourse and pursue personal validation rather than being used out of any deep-seated conviction to dismantle systemic oppression. The personal weaponization of social justice and feminist concepts is a gateway for people who oppose these movements to strip these terms of their credibility in order to delegitimize the societal and institutional impacts on marginalized people.

It’s important to question how an argument is framed and why it’s framed the way that it is to critically examine the intent behind that argument: is it used as a tool to push a personal agenda that reinforces dismissive, condescending, and problematic behaviors, or is it used as an opportunity to share, learn, enlighten, and educate? The concept of choice as an argument is extremely problematic because: it limits fruitful discussions about Elain within the fandom; enables arguments that oppose opinions about Elain and her narrative development to masquerade as progressive by pushing social justice and feminist language to their extremes; normalizes the vilification and condemnation of individuals who are either critical of a ship, Elain as a character, or prefer her with Lucien; encourages an in-group and out-group mentality with differing opinions about Elain’s development resulting in politically charged insults; exploits social justice and feminist terms; ignores that harm done on a micro-level is just as damaging as harm done on a macro-level; and cheapens Elain’s character and her development.

There is more to Elain than her being a female who is traditionally feminine. Elain has the potential to be as complex of a character as Feyre, Nesta, Rhysand, Lucien, Cassian, Azriel, Amren, and Mor, and to reduce her character to her femalehood in fandom discussions is a disservice to Elain as a character, the ACOTAR fandom, and SJM’s writing. So I ask this: is there a reason why the fandom heavily emphasizes the concept of choice when discussing Elain that goes beyond a simplistic analysis of her as a character (i.e. using the concept of choice as an argument to reinforce Elain’s femaleness), or is the concept of choice used as a shield to prop up one ship over another?

gimme-mor library

#elucien #elain archeron #acosf #acotar: fandom critical

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