#no cliffhangers this time i promise | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

doitforbangchan · 2 months ago

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🫣🫣🫣 liiiisttennnn i don’t do it on purpose! cliffhangers just come naturally to me 🥲 gotta keep the suspense

Ever Lovely - 3

Pairing~ Fae Prince!Bangchan x reader (afab/fem) x Fae Prince!Lee Know

Warnings~ Angst, cursing, panic attack, fainting, insanity (reader feels crazy)

WC~ 6.8k

Masterlist // series masterlist

previous ~ next

The far away look in your eyes did not go unnoticed by the staff the next morning, nor did the dark circles under your eyes due to exhaustion. As they dressed you for the day your normally vibrant demeanor seemed to be dimmed as you did not even protest when they pulled you out of bed like you normally do, and you did not pout at the dawning of your corset as they expected you too. It was honestly a little concerning to the maids. Especially to Mara.

You had gotten little to no sleep the night prior. Over and over your mind replayed the events you had experienced. From leaving the castle, to meeting Chris and Minho, to following them home and finally to them.

A part of you thought it might have all been a nightmare; that you had never left at all and everything you had been through was a figment of your imagination. But you knew in your gut it was real. That you really had met faeries and visited an otherworldly realm beyond your wildest imagination. Both the wonder and terror you had experienced could not have been made up in your head, as you still felt them even now.

So many questions still rattled around in your head. You wanted to know more about them and their court. You wanted to know how they all came together. And you wanted to know why they valued human life so little. As much as you craved to return to them and demand more answers you also knew that beings that clearly only believed mortals to be nothing but toys for their entertainment were nothing but trouble for you. You would be a fool to put yourself in such a dangerous situation for a second time.

But

There was also a realization that that was probably the most thrilling thing you will have ever done in your life. Nothing would ever compare to the astonishment of the Court of Stars and that sat heavy in your chest.

“My dear, what troubles have you plagued? You have hardly uttered a sound this morning.” Mara's question brought you out of your thoughts and back to reality.

You blinked quickly as you tried to come up with an answer that would satisfy her. “My rest was uneasy last night. The stress of yesterday must have gotten too me worse than I thought.”

She hummed, straightening out the poofs of your dress. “I will have the servants prepare some tea with your breakfast. You need to be awake and lively when you rendezvous with the Queens today for wedding preparations.”

“Thank you, Mara. I would appreciate that greatly.” You said softly then a thought struck you; Mara had been the one to tell you stories about faeries when you were young- maybe she knew more information about them. The problem was getting that information out of her without her becoming suspicious. You cleared your throat lightly, “Mara, do you remember the stories you used to tell me when I was a child?”

“I have told you many tales, your highness. You will have to be specific.” She was behind you fixing your hair.

“The stories.. About faeries.”

“Yes, I remember.” She answered, adjusting the pastel pink bow that rested in your hair and matched the color of your dress.

“Well, do you happen to know anything else about them? The.. faeries, I mean.”

Mara’s eyes instantly met yours in the mirror and her hands stopped moving. When she realized her reaction she cleared her throat and continued her task. “Now what makes you ask about a thing like that?”

You tried a shrug in indifference, as if the inquiry held no weight. “ No reason in particular. Just thought maybe they would be good stories to pass on to my own children one day.”

“Those were less of a fun story and more of a warning. Beings that are not to be trifled with.” She huffed. “Magical devils in disguise. It is better not to think of them at all.”

‘Devils in disguise.’ Those words stuck with you the most. You remembered how different both Chris and Minho appeared when you arrived in the fae wilds- how they had changed out of their disguise and into their more bizarre forms.

“But what if I find myself in a peculiar situation and the only thing that could save me is that knowledge?”

Mara narrowed her eyes at yours, giving you a glance over with an etch of worry in her brows.”What situation would you find yourself in that this would be useful? Y/n, did something happen?”

Shit. You should not have said that last question.

“N-no. Of course not, Mara. What a silly question.” You deflected, using a hand to wave her off.

“Y/n.” the elder woman's voice grew stern. “If something has happened you must tell me.”

You wiped your sweating hands on your dress, hiding your nerves and playing it off. “Nothing has happened. I am simply curious.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment and you thought that was going to be the end of the discussion, but before you could deflate in dejection she surprised you by speaking up. “I will not claim to be an expert, most of what I know comes from what my own father told me when I was a girl so take it all with a grain of salt.”

You nodded, motioning for her to continue.

She sighed wistfully and began her tale, “In the village where I grew up, a few miles outside of this very kingdom in a small woodland town, many rumors spread about tricksters that dwelled within the surrounding woods. Rumors of supernatural creatures that cared for nothing but their own enjoyment. Rumors of their cunning games and alluring charms. ” She breathed deeply before continuing. “ These creatures were known to us as Faeries or the fae folk. Our village had a specific set of rules regarding these tricksters. Do not ever enter the woods at night. If you are outside and see something strange, leave immediately. Fae are known to lure in victims with traps of enticement. Never invite one into your home lest you invoke nightmares and thievery. Faeries cannot lie, so they are very eloquent with their words and how they phrase things.”

“If I were to ask one a question, would it answer me truthfully?” You asked.

Mara shrugged, “Perhaps, though I would not count on it. They might try to get something from you in return. Never accept any offer they make you, magic always comes with a price and more likely than not it is a terrible price to pay. Do not celebrate with them. Do not show great emotion to a faerie either. I remember hearing of a young woman who was grieving the passing of her husband late one night outside by the wicker well, one moment she was there sobbing her heart out and the next she was gone- vanished without a trace.”

Taken.. Like whoever fell victim to Seungmin and Jeongin.

“These are the rules my father instilled in me, and his father before him. Each child of my village grew up knowing the terrors of what lurked beyond what our natural eyes could see.” Mara finished her task, coming around to the front of you now. “There we go, looking as polished as ever, your highness.”

“Thank you Mara. And thank you for sharing with me the tales from your childhood.” You smiled weakly at her, putting your hand on her shoulder. Her words ran through you as you took them in. You had definitely broken many of these rules already and that alone made you incredibly uneasy. But at the same time you felt hopeful? Now that you know the rules of the fae, maybe you could use them to avoid trouble with them should you wish to return to them.

“You’re welcome, but do not go sharing this with anyone else. I do not need anyone coming after my head for filling yours with strange ideas.” She huffed making you laugh.

“I won’t tell a soul. I promise.” You made an ‘X’ over your heart.

“Now you must hurry along, I am sure your guests are already waiting for you in the dining hall to commence preparations.” She patted your back and sent you to the door. But before you could leave the room she called out, “Wait, I almost forgot the most important rule regarding the fae.” You turned back to face her again. “Never, under any circumstance, fall in love with a faerie, they will never love you the same and it will always end in tragedy.”

For a reason you can’t explain you felt your heart break ever so slightly at her warning.

Dread did not even begin to describe the way Chris felt as he traveled to the Court of Wonder. For him it had been a week since Pricilla’s threat of war and as much as he did not wish to see her he knew he couldn’t put off the meeting any longer. The journey to the Court of Wonder was a long one, the two lands were separated by the vast seas of the Summer court and could only be traversed by boat.

Chris always loved the sea. The dark inky depths reminded him of his own home, but instead of an endless void the water was teeming with life. When he was younger he spent hours upon hours exploring the Summer Courts many ecosystems with the sea always being his favorite. It was where he met Minho.

The fae prince had paid a hefty amount of gold to a Kobold to ferry him across the water. The reptilian trickster tried to swindle him out of even more money but one look into the glimmering amethyst of Chris’s eyes made the little coward realize that Chris was a powerful being that should not be messed with, even a creature as stupid as a Kobold would not dare challenge the dark prince.

As he traveled Chris let his mind wander. He remembered the first time he met Minho on these very seas.

The prince was young, only a few centuries old at that point, long before he had taken control over his court. Chris had once again ran away from his court in search of… well anything really. An escape from his reality. The pressures of princely responsibilities were weighing on him heavier than ever and it was becoming too much for the boy to accept. After yet another dispute with his mother he fled the court, venturing as far as he could until he entered the territory of the Summer Court and even then he did not stop. He went all the way to the water, standing upon a cliffside that overlooked a tropical archipelago.

Chris had never seen anything like it before in his entire life, the vastness of the water rivaled that of the galaxies of his home. His purple eyes took in every detail; from the crashing waves to the shaking of spindly palm trees. But what really caught his attention was the large ship that was speeding over the waves, a large red sail swaying in the wind as it went. Pirates. The prince was giddy as he jumped down from the cliffside, aiming right for the vessel.

He landed directly on his feet smack dab in the middle of the top deck, a bright smile on his face and an excited twitch in his fingers. Not even the shouts in concern from the crew could shake him. Or the sword that was suddenly being pointed right at his throat.

A boy, younger than him but not by much, with catlike eyes and dark shaggy hair sneered at Chris as he held the sword to the prince's neck. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Chris.” He was still smiling, clearly unfazed.

“Well, ‘Chris’, what are you doing on our ship? Come to take our treasures?” The boy asked, taking in the boy's strange appearance. Chris did not look like any fae from the Summer court, he was much too pale. The boy still did not lower his weapon.

“Minho,” A voice called out, making the boy cast his gaze quickly at another man with fiery orange hair. This man was wearing a black tricorn hat that had a plume of red feathers sticking out. He seemed familiar to Chris but he couldn’t quite place why. “Mind your manners when you're around royalty.”

“Royalty, huh? Doesn’t look like any royal I know.” Minho scoffed but slowly lowered his weapon nonetheless.

“I haven’t seen you in a while, Chris. What brings you to my ship? Did you get tired of your pretty palace in the sky like I did with mine?” Ahh yes, now Chris remembered who this is- Prince Hongjoong of the Summer court. He hadn’t seen the orange haired boy in a long time, he had stopped attending the balls that the Court of Stars threw many years ago. Chris heard he had abandoned his crown and became estranged from his family. Chris was envious of him.

He offered a shrug, tilting his head back and forth, “Ah you know how it is, Hongjoong. Sometimes those gems are too heavy on one's head.” Chris used his thumb to motion to Minho, who still had his slitted pupils were still locked in on Chris. “Where did you find this rabid thing?”

“You watch your mouth you assh-”

“Ehh put the claws down kitty cat, it was a compliment. You need to be a little crazy to hang out with Hongjoong.” He winked cheekily at Minho, making him scowl even further but Chris also saw a light dusting of pink on the tips of his ears.

“Minho is a soldier I plucked from the dessert militia. He’s got quite a sharp mind; great for battle strategy. You’d be impressed Chris.” Hongjoong smirked.

“Won’t the Summer Court miss someone like that?” Chris asked, already knowing the answer.

“Of course they will. But only the best get to join my crew.” Both boys chuckled while Minho just looked annoyed. “The offer extends to you as well Chris. I’d love to have you in my little band of misfits.”

The offer weighed heavy on Chris’s shoulders. It was extremely tempting and something he had actually thought about in great detail. Ultimately he knew he couldn’t stay away forever. His court relied on him too much- his mother relied on him too much.

The rest was history. Whenever Chris felt the need to escape he would leave his court and head to the Summer Court, joining the pirate crew known as ‘Ateez’ as they traveled and becoming great friends with Minho. Such good friends that Minho left the crew and joined Chris in leading his court when his mother passed.

It was a good memory, one that Chris cherished. Being back on these waters gave him a sense of calm he longed for, even though where he was headed was far from peaceful.

Chris knew this bullshit threat was only to get his attention. Everything Pricilla did was to get his attention.

He knew he never should have entertained her in the first place. He had let his cock think for him instead of his head one too many times and this was the consequence of his actions. Chris had hoped the psychotic queen would move on from her infatuation with him- it had been over five hundred years since he had indulged her- but it seems like his wishful thinking was just that; a wish. And unfortunately the prince cannot grant his own wishes, no matter how hard he tries.

Chris let his eyes scour the water, looking for the divine secrets that lay below the crystalline waves. His pupils enlarged to encompass his whole eye as he focused, his sight enhancing significantly. Just as he had thought they were sailing over a colony of merfolk. He could see the massive reefs they build their homes out of. The fishlike humanoids were infamously elusive and great at remaining hidden so he wasn’t able to make out any of the creatures themselves much to his dismay.

The fae prince sighed and returned his sight back to normal. Maybe one day he would send Jeongin down there to make contact. The Sea Foam court and the merfolk were known to have a cordial report and it certainly wouldn’t hurt to have another allied species in case something went south. Though a petty part of him did not want to ask the youngest boy for anything. He was still irate at Jeongin and Seungmin for ruining his time with you.

Most of his thoughts lately were of you. His lost princess. He wondered what you were doing, if you were still upset with him and if he would ever see you again. The man still did not know what had made you so upset in the first place. He had not said anything that was not the truth but for some reason you took that as a personal dig. Minho had laid into him about having sensitivity for a weaker species that night when he returned.

Chris hoped you were not still mad at him. For reasons he could not explain he felt an ache in his chest at the thought of you hating him forever. It shouldn’t matter. You were just a human after all. Your opinion of him shouldn’t bother him at all.

But it does.

It bothers him beyond comprehension. He already thought the world of you- the runaway princess with a voice like pure silk and a body crafted by the goddess of sex herself. The moment he laid eyes on you he knew you were something special. So the fact that you seemed so.. Disgusted by what he said made him want to rip his curly hair from his head.

The long ride finally came to an end as the boat entered the edge of the Court of Wonder. The kobold bowed to the prince when he exited the boat, throwing another gold piece to the small creature as he passed.

The lands of the Court of Wonder were full of splendor. A land full of magical creatures and all things extraordinary. The pixie forests glowed with vibrant colors and the mountains shimmered with the pure gold they were made from. To anyone who had never been there before it would be captivating; to him though it was a shithole.

Standing at the edge of the dock awaiting his arrival was a tall fae man; the man had vibrant orange skin that resembled dragon scales and he was wearing a long black cloak. Chris recognized him instantly. This was Jasper, one of Pricillas hounds. Seemed like she wanted to guarantee his arrival.

The ‘hounds’ were Pricillas most precious possessions. They were a group of fae that hailed from the Court of Wonder, hand picked by the Queen herself to be on her guard. That in itself was all well and good- many fae folk had unique magical abilities that were useful to a court- but word in the rumor mill was that these were no ordinary fae; that they were genetically modified by Pricilla to be stronger, sharper, deadlier. No longer were they regular guards, now they were an elite team who did her bidding without question- no matter how sadistic or inhumane the request.

The aura that this man gave off was pure menace and if Chris was a weaker fae he might have even shuddered under his scrutinizing red eyes.

But he was not a weaker fae. Chris had royal blood that granted him not only strength but powers of his court. The prince knew if it came down to it he could probably defeat Jasper one on one… but he also knew the ‘Hounds’ rarely ever traveled completely alone. He wouldn’t be able to fight off more than one at a time.

At least not without the powers of the crown…

The reptilian fae lowered himself slightly in a customary bow to the prince, though his eyes did not leave Chris’s for even a second. “Welcome to the Court of Wonder, Prince Chris. Your presence has been long awaited.”

Chris huffed and wanted to roll his eyes. “Yes I am aware. Pricilla hasn’t stopped demanding my presence for a millennium.”

Jasper seemed to ignore the comment, gesturing for Chris to follow him. The fae prince walked one step behind the other man in silence. It was uncomfortable to say the least. They walked for a few minutes until they came upon a glowing pillar that looked to be made of pure blue agate crystal.

Jasper halted right in front of the pillar, then turned back to look at Chris. “Place your hand upon the crystal. And hold your breath.”

Chris sighed then without hesitation stuck his palm directly to the pillar. The second his skin touched the cool gem his body was encapsulated in a beam of pure light. It was hot- burning, searingly hot and he felt his feet lift from the ground and his vision disappeared as all he could see was the blinding rainbow light. Then just as soon as it came, it was gone.

His feet landed back on the ground and his sight cleared up. Just as he had suspected; the pillar was a teleportation crystal. They were pretty common in the larger courts, they made it easier to get around. His own court did not have any, so he wasn’t the most familiar.

He now found himself standing in front of the huge castle that belonged to the aristocracy of the Court of Wonder. It was made of pure gold, a product of the mines that resided in the mountains, and was bigger than any other castle he had seen anywhere in the fae wilds. It was also surrounded in miles and miles of blooming flower fields, as far as the eye could see. The gardens were Pricillas pride and joy.

‘Of course she has to have the biggest and best of everything.’ He grumbled in his mind.

Two guards clad in bronze armor opened the large wide set doors as he approached, offering him low bows as he passed him. God, he was so sick and tired of all the bowing. So tired of everyone knowing he was royal. If he wasn’t royal his life would have been simpler- he wouldn’t have to deal with this bullshit in this bullshit court.

Chris strolled into the palace and through its glittering vast halls. He did not stop and entertain any of the servants that addressed him nor did he slow his steps until he entered the throne room in the center of the castle.

When he entered the room he was met with the reason for his visit; Pricilla. The queen was lounging sideways on her plush throne, her feet hanging off the side and kicking back and forth in giddiness. Her horizontal pupils settled on him as he entered and her lips curled up into a wicked smile, her pearly white jagged teeth on display.

“Well there he is, the man of the hour.” Pricilla waved her lithe fingers at him in a teasing manner. “So glad you finally decided to come visit me. It only took an active threat to your people to get you here.” She giggled maniacally as if she had said the funniest thing in the world.

There was something..off about the Queen. Something different. Pricilla had always been a beautiful woman but now her normally vibrant yellow skin seemed to have lost a touch of its glittering luster, and her usually long flowing hair that was deep blue was cropped short to about her shoulders- but it was choppy and uneven as if she had cut it herself. Even her clothes looked askew. She had always cared too much about her appearance, so the fact that she looked so worn down had really thrown him off.

“I am here. Just as you demanded. Now what do you want, Pricilla?” He asked, crossing his arms and getting right to the point. He wanted to get out of here as soon as possible.

“Don’t act like you didn’t miss me.” She laughed and lifted one side of her dress, showing off her thigh to him in an attempt at enticing him. When he didn’t react to her all Pricilla pouted, throwing her head back with a whine. “Come on Chrissy you can’t pretend forever.”

“And what exactly am I pretending to do, Pricilla?”

“Acting like you don’t like me.” She huffed, “As if our time together meant nothing to you!”

“It did mean nothing to me, Pricilla.” He glared at her, getting fed up with her already. “In fact it meant less than nothing.”

Chris saw her grit her teeth, “Now you’re just being cruel to me.”

“I am being cruel to you? No, what’s cruel is threatening a war all because you aren’t getting my attention. What's cruel is sending Changbin crashing down in a ball of fire after all he wanted to do was talk with you.” He clenched his fists at his side.

The look on her face became confused, “Wait, who is Changbin, again?”

Chris rubbed his face in frustration, “The one who came to see you last week… that you sent plummeting down in a cocoon of flames.. That put a giant hole in my courtyard. ”

She snapped in recollection, “Ah yes spring court faerie with the pink hair! He was a cutie pie I must admit.” She snickered briefly then her face hardened again. “But he was not who I requested. I asked for you, Chrissy. And I won’t be ignored. Not by you or anyone.”

“I am busy, Pricilla. I have a court to run. I would think you’d know a little about that seeing as you’re a ruler yourself.”

She grinned at him again, “Ah but I am a Queen. You have been neglecting your court by dividing it in pieces instead of just dawning the crown yourself.” Her broken nails tapped on the twinkling sun emblem on the crown that was embedded in her skull. To wear the crown was to become the crown- there was no taking it off. “They need a proper ruler, Chris. A strong, handsome king. And they’ll need an equally strong Queen.”

There it was.

Chris rolled his eyes so far into the back of his head he could almost see his brain. “You have your own court, you do not need mine as well.”

“But think about how incredible it could be if we were to join our two courts together! We would be unstoppable! And our children would grow up in the most magical place to ever exist! All you have to do is put on that ugly vine-y crown and your powers would allow you to-”

“Pricilla that is enough!” Chris raised his voice at her for the first time, glaring at her as his eyes darkened until they were a deep almost black purple color. He could see how taken aback she looked at his outburst but he continued before she could speak again. “You never know when to fucking quit! I have told you over and over again that you and I are never going to be together. I fucked you one time, that’s it. Grow up and get the fuck over it.”

“Chris, come on-”

“No! You have disrespected me and my court for the last time with this bullshit! I will not stand for your insults to my family's legacy any longer. This ends here and now.”

The prince expected her to cry and whine and beg like she always does, but instead he was met with her intense stare and complete silence from the seelie Queen. He had never seen her so silent and still before, as if she was made of stone. After what felt like eternity she seemed to snap back into reality.

“Alright.”

He raised a brow in confusion, “Alright? That’s all you have to say now?”

“Yes.” She nodded slowly. Her face was neutral but Chris could see something wicked brewing behind her eyes. “I concede. I won’t pursue you any longer.”

“And you’ll retract your threat of war among our courts?” He pressed.

She nodded again, “Yes, there will be no war.”

He cleared his throat, finding this went way too easily but not looking a gift horse in the mouth. “Excellent. I am glad we could put this to rest.”

“Me as well. Maybe we can move past all of this and even become.. Friends?” She asked, tapping her nails on the side of her throne.

He didn’t know what game she was playing or what her intentions were, but he also knew it would be best to try and move on for the sake of peace. The wilds did not need a spat amongst royals.

“Friends would be lovely.” He conceded.

Pricilla clapped ecstatically and the shrill giggle made Chris’s ears hurt. “Perfect. Then I look forward to being the very best of friends. Don’t you, Chrissy?”

He winced slightly, then cleared his throat and nodded. Better to agree with her and be done with it once and for all. “Of course. Now that we have put this mess behind us, and can move on-”

“As friends,” She cut him off with a smirk.

“Yes. As friends.” He continued, trying to hold in his agitation, “I will be taking my leave now. Take care of yourself, Pricilla.” He gave her a shallow bow of his head.

The seelie woman waved her fingers at him, “Byyyyye Chrissy.”

The prince turned on his heel and walked out of the throne room, then down the halls and out of the front door, not stopping until he was outside. Once he was outside he finally let out a frustrated breath. Chris was thrown off by how easy it was to come to an agreement with her. It felt wrong somehow. There had to be an ulterior motive- with her there always was- but he really did not want to dwell on it. For now ,at least, there would be peace and that was enough for him.

Now he wanted to get the hell out of this court.

Your heart felt heavy as you walked down the halls. Mingyu had once again accompanied you down to breakfast this morning, you could tell the man wanted to say something about the distant look in your eyes but he did not. You thanked him for walking you and he bowed then opened the double doors leading to the dining room.

Walking into the room you could see that only your mother and queen Jeonywon were seated at the table enjoying a few pastries. The other Queen was the first to notice you as you entered, “Ah Y/n dear, come join us. We were discussing the floral arrangements for the ceremony.”

“Good morning Mother. Good morning, your majesty.” You greeted them both politely before you took your seat in front of the two women.

“Yes yes, good morning, anyways Jeonywon I was thinking something classy,” Your mother began, barely paying you any mind like usual. “Perhaps camellias. The dark pink blush color would go quite heavenly with Y/n’s complexion.”

“Hmm, that may be a nice choice. I suppose some babies breathe and some Cymbidium would do well as fillers…”

You began to drown them out, not really caring much for the conversation since you knew you wouldn’t get a say in anything either way.. As if it wasn’t your wedding..

As tasty as you knew the food to be, you did not have much of an appetite so you only lightly picked at some fruit so as to not draw attention to you not eating. After managing to get down a single strawberry you went to take a drink of some water. You lifted your crystal glass up to your mouth and took a sip, but as you were lowering it back down you noticed a strange reflection in the glass, like someone was standing directly behind you. No, not just someone..

You could see a reflection of Minho staring back at you.

A startled gasp escaped you and you whipped your head around to look behind you. There was no one there, only the servants who stood along the edge of the room. Nothing and no one out of the ordinary. ‘Was I just imagining it?’ You must have been, there was no way Minho was here.

“Y/n, are you alright?”

Dammit, you forgot about the other two women with you at the table. You nodded in response, “Yes, your majesty. My apologies for the outburst, I had a.. Tickle that startled me.”

It was not a very good lie but it seemed to convince them both anyways. “Well finish up your breakfast dear, we have a meeting with the modiste shortly and we mustn't be late.”

“A meeting with the modiste, mother?” You were slightly confused and unable to put the pieces together.

“For your wedding gown. We only have a few days to prepare so every second counts.”

You chewed on your bottom lip and lightly pushed your plate away from you, definitely not up to eating any longer.

The three of you had loaded into the most pristine carriage that your family owned (your mother clearly wanted to show off our best assets to the other ruler), and you were on your way into the town. The carriage passed by the bustling streets filled with the common people going about their day. You could see people selling their wares in little stalls and a few working men on their way to work. Of course there were also a few people stopping to stare and point at the sight of the royal carriage being pulled by the pure white horses.

You wished you were out there with them instead of stuck in this cramped compartment on your way to imminent doom. That’s how you felt, at least. Being here with these two chattering queens was almost like literal torture for you as they yammered on and on about what type of lace and stitching would be best for your dress.

Looking out into the crowds you noticed a few familiar faces; A woman named Kate who sold flowers was setting up her bouquets, a young man that you knew from the tavern was walking with a small child in his arms, and you even caught a glimpse of Vernon as he exited a shop.

A flash of dark hair and pointed ears caught your attention. Standing there on the side of the road in the middle of the crowd was Minho. You leaned over towards the window of the carriage to get a better look, but just as quickly as you saw him he was gone, vanished without a trace as if he was never even there. Using your closed fist you rubbed your eyes and sat back into your seat once again.

What is going on? Am I actually losing my mind?

Maybe you were losing your mind. Maybe everything you experienced, everything you saw was just insanity. It had to be- it didn’t seem plausible that you were the only one that could see them for what they were or could be the only one to see him now. That's what it was, you decided. Just insanity brought on by the stress of your arranged marriage. You would get through this next week and your premonitions would cease. There was no such thing as faeries. There was no Chris and Minho.

Or..

They were toying with you. Perhaps they were using their tricks on you to make you think you’ve gone insane. If what Mara said was to be believed and true, then the otherworldly beings did not hold the same morals or ethics as most mortals do. Minho had said that humans only see what the fae wanted them too. So there was a very real possibility that all you were to them was a plaything.

You were not sure which option hurt you the most.

Your panicked thoughts were interrupted by the sudden stop of the carriage. Glancing out the window again you saw you had made it to the modiste. You were so lost in your own mind after seeing Minho that you had completely blanked out the majority of the ride.

A footsman opened the carriage door with a bow and held a hand out to help you out. With a hand on your hems to keep from tripping you were led out and into the store.

A woman you had never met before greeted you all you entered. She clasped her hands out in front of her and offered a bow to the queen's first and then to you. “Welcome your majesties. Welcome your highness. I am so grateful and pleased to have you in my shop.”

You glanced around the shop, not seeing the elderly woman who usually attended to you when you visited. “Where is Dohee?”

“Oh, Ms. Dohee was my teacher and after she felt I had completed my apprenticeship she retired and left the shop to me.” The girl blushed and tucked some hair behind her ear. She was pretty, you noticed, and seemed to be around your age. “My name is Lisa. It is my ultimate pleasure to make your acquaintance, your highness.”

“It is nice to meet you as well.” You offered a shy smile.

“Lisa,” Your mother began as she browsed the different racks of fabrics, “I trust you have something drawn up for us to see?”

The girl nodded enthusiastically, “Yes, your majesty!” She pulled out a large sketchbook and flipped to the back of the pages and brought it over to you and the Queens. “I began to work something up the second I was informed of the engagement. I was up all night, actually.”

Lisa presented you with a drawing of an elegant gown that had a tight fitted bodice and puffed sleeves. It was a nice drawing but it did not really feel like what you imagined your dress to look like. Before you could respond with those exact words your mother cut you off and snatched the book away from you. “Now this is just splendid! Exactly what I was thinking.”

Lisa beamed and gave another small bow in gratitude. “I am so happy to hear that, your majesty does have fine taste indeed. And how about you, your highness?” She asked you.

“Well actually perhaps we-”

“She loves it.” Once again you couldn’t get your own words out. You begin to feel the tips of your ears heat up in frustration but you bite your tongue. “My daughter is an elegant girl and needs an elegant dress. Right, dear?” Your mother slightly narrowed her eyes at you with an unspoken threat to make you agree.

You wrung your hands together and gave a tentative nod, “Yes, of course mother.”

Queen Jeonywon took a look at the sketch next, “How beautiful! Kookie is just going to love this.” She nodded in approval then handed the sketchbook back to Lisa.

Lisa ushered you onto the pedestal and pulled out a few measuring tapes. You do not know why you were hopeful that maybe you would have gotten even a slight say in your dress, but it was very apparent to you as the two matriarchs droned on about what lace they think would be best and how long the train should be that this was not really your wedding; it was more for them than anything else.

These last twenty four hours felt like a fever dream - and perhaps it still was, that notion was still up in the air for you- but you just wanted it to end.You felt weak and powerless, not the glowing bride you wanted to be. A wedding was supposed to be a joyous occasion, one shared between lovers and friends. It was supposed to be about love, not whatever farce this was.

An overwhelming bout of panic hit you like a train suddenly. This was all becoming too much for you to handle. Your chest was beginning to feel tight and you felt your breathing start picking up. Shakily you lifted a hand and placed it on your heart in an attempt to quell its harsh beating. You vaguely recognized Lisa’s voice asking you to put your hand down so she can continue but her words went in one ear and out of the other.

Blurry spots began to form in your vision and extreme dizziness made you stumble back. Your hand that was on your heart now has migrated up to your head. Your breathing got even more accelerated and you felt your lungs burn.

“Your highness, are you alright?”

That was the last thing you heard before you went toppling down into darkness.

as always comments and reblogs are encouraged and appreciated 💖 please share your thoughts i love to hear them

beta read by my loves @jehhskz and @athforskz 💜

©doitforbangchan 2024

Taglist

@crystal00501 @ldysmfrst @moonlostinthemoonlight @livixcore @tirena1 @sunnyhonie @catlove83 @channieandhisgoonsquad @wealwayskeepfighting @wolfs-howling @paborachaslvt @bahablastplz @furioussheepluminary @softkisshyunjin @tsunderelino @moonchild9350 @tired7o7 @eastleighsblog @fox-in-y @igetcarriedawaywithyou @m00njinnie @seungfl0wer @buffyspice

#el series #ever lovely #i wasn’t gonna leave it on a cliffhanger this time i promise #but sometimes that’s just how the cooke crumbles unfortunately #it fit better narratively #sorry love youuuuu

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meret118 · 1 year ago

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But what’s happened now is that this has happened so often with so many shows, that Netflix has created a self-fulfilling loop with many series that probably could have gone on to become valuable catalogue additions otherwise.

The idea is that since you know that Netflix cancels so many shows after one or two seasons, ending them on cliffhangers and leaving their storylines unfinished, it’s almost not worth investing in a show until it’s already ended, and you know it’s going to have a coherent ending and finished arc.

So you hold off watching new shows, even ones you might otherwise be interested in, because you’re afraid Netflix will cancel them. Enough people do this and surprise, viewership is low! And the show ends up cancelled. The loop is closed, and reinforced, because now there’s yet another example cited, causing even more people to be cautious the next time around. And now we’ve reached a point where unless a series is some sort of record-breaking fluke megahit (Wednesday) or established super franchise (Stranger Things), a second or third season feels like not even a coinflip, but more like 10-20% shot, at best.

Netflix’s cancelation policies have informed its viewers that if you want a show you like renewed, you need to watch it immediately, you need to tell all your friends to watch it immediately, and you need to finish all episodes in a short period of time. Anything less than that will result in likely cancelation, with the problem being, of course, that this runs contrary to the entire promise of a streaming service like Netflix in the first place. The core concept of “on demand” streaming was that ability to watch what you wanted, when you wanted to. But now binging a series in its opening weekend isn’t just an option to have, it feels almost mandatory, lest the negative data reflect poorly on a show you might otherwise like.

Something has broken with this model. It’s now created a system where creators should be afraid to make a series that dares to end on a cliffhanger or save anything for future seasons, lest their story forever be left unfinished. And viewers are afraid to commit to any show that isn’t a completely aired package lest they spend 10-30 hours on something that ends up unresolved, which has happened dozens and dozens of times, creating a vast “show graveyard” within Netflix, full of landmines viewers are going to be discovering for years.

More at the link.

------

I've wondered if it's driving creators to their competitors too.

#Netflix

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evertidings · 2 months ago

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it's out it's out!! after nearly a year of writing blocks and crying and wanting to throw the entire story away (which i'm now glad i didn't), you can enjoy chapter eleven NOW on itch.io !!

IN THIS CHAPTER.

have a mental breakdown

get closer to Blane?? (wait since when were they this nice)

experience some more bickering from K and Rylan (but for different reasons than usual, you'll see)

spar with A and N! (yes we're bringing that back)

try not to break down... again

STATS. 514,500 words (+42.5k)

LINKS. ko-fi & patreon

i know it's been a very long wait for some of you (and it has been for me too, believe me), but thank you for being patient! whether you found this game today or were here from the very beginning, your support means the world to me. i'm so incredibly grateful to have this many people care about something that i'm passionate about. the chapter is on the shorter side, but i hope that it brings you joy (or not? i can't say the content is very joyful) regardless. i promise chapter twelve will take less time than eleven did.

as always, please let me know what you think! oh, and don't hate me for the cliffhanger.

#announcement #when twilight strikes #the midnight hours #interactive fiction #twine if #twine game

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jen-with-a-pen · 10 months ago

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𝐀 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐰𝐨, 𝐨𝐟 𝐄𝐧𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | 𝐉.𝐁.𝐁

They said fate worked in mysterious ways; the strings of destiny plucked and pulled and snapped at the leisure of those they controlled, but not you. The delicacy in which you handled the woven web was forever unseen and unprecedented, and your patience was to be rewarded in a way you least expected.

𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 ʚɞ Modern!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗗 𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗧 ʚɞ 4.3k

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 ʚɞ Swearing, pet names, fluff, angst and emotional conflict, protective Bucky, perceived unrequited feelings, big confessions TROPES: And they were roommates, oblivious best friends to lovers, my own take on soulmates, mutual pining

𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘 ʚɞ Something that I have not attempted before now. For @sebstanwhore. 💜

𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗦 ➷ ʚɞ @anyfandomfluffbingo 𝗚𝟰 — Roommates — Masterlist ʚɞ @sebastianstanbingo 𝗕𝟭 — Idiots to Lovers — Masterlist

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It had been this way for as long as you could remember.

For years, you crushed hard on Bucky — the man that had been your rock, your partner in crime since childhood. So rare it was to have a connection from so long ago, let alone be as formidable as the two of you were. Interwoven and weaved together stronger than steel.

Time had wound you both so close together that wherever one went, the other followed; always joined at the hip.

It was only natural that in the end, you found an apartment together, becoming roommates and best friends — facing the challenges of life together.

Through the time that you spent with Bucky, day in and day out for all of those years and up to now, your affections and attempts at flirting with the man that held your heart were brushed off or they flew over his head completely.

Bucky was oblivious like that. For all of his charm, his wit and intelligence, the man could be thick.

And that was how, after psyching yourself up for weeks, you landed in the dating scene. It was a long shot, but you figured if Bucky wouldn’t (or couldn’t) pick up what you were putting down, you were at least going and getting out there — even if your heart and soul was already taken by the man that lay haphazardly sprawled over your bed, staring at you with a disapproving scowl.

“Nope, no, you– Why don’t you wear those jeans?” Bucky huffed, exasperated after you threw the umpteenth pair of dress pants over your shoulder, only for them to land directly on his handsome face. “Boo, c’mon,” he groaned as he pulled the fabric off of his face. “You’re gonna look amazing no matter what.”

At the use of your nickname reserved only for him, you looked over your shoulder and frowned. “I have to look good. I have to.”

Bucky sighed and rolled off the bed, his stature broad and muscled as ever. The tattoos that covered his arms and hands distracted your train of worry, and you stared as he neared; more artistry visible from the collar of his shirt to spread up one side of his neck.

“C’mere,” he said, and you felt his hands grab ahold of yours. The touch he provided you ground you back on earth; the proximity reassuring, more than any words would be able to replicate.

You could feel his eyes as he searched your body, the subtle way he picked up your cues or anxiety and dread, and you felt that there was no way you could meet his gaze — the intensity of it burned your skin while you stared determinedly down at his hands, observing with a keen eye how his deft fingers felt running over the skin of your palms, and how his rough, callused thumbs ran over your knuckles.

“Honey.” His deep voice was softer than silk. “Can you look at me?”

You took a deep breath to steel yourself. From his hands, you looked up into his eyes — they swam with untold emotion, raw and unbridled in his adoration, and if you didn’t know any better, you would have sworn that was how he would look at a lover. That thought did nothing to quell the roiling nausea in the pit of your stomach.

“There y’are, my pretty girl,” he cooed, smiling. “What’s got you all upset, huh?”

That it’s not you I’m going on a date with, you answered in your mind. Before that thought could be spoken aloud, you replied, “I’m just nervous.”

The nervous waver in your voice made you grimace, and you cursed.

Bucky sighed. “That’s normal, Boo—you’re gonna knock ‘em dead. They’re not gonna know what’s hit ‘em.”

An ache, intense and painful, bloomed within your chest, and it consumed your heart whole. From the safety of your mind, you screamed out for him to just see; to know what you were thinking.

The courage to speak up had long ago waned and worn thin, vanishing with the days that passed.

“Okay,” you whispered, and you took your hands from his to turn your back on him. The litany of cries that built up in your throat only blocked by the tears that threatened to beat them — Bucky was looking at you with the adoration of a best friend watching their partner in crime strike out and try something new, you reminded yourself.

A heavy, poignant silence filled the room while you shuffled around your closet for that perfect outfit, but you did your best to ignore it — the internal war to determinedly keep your shoulders straight and your breathing even was close to impossible, but you put every last ounce of effort into it.

You weren’t to see the way Bucky’s eyes clouded over, or how low his shoulders slumped in defeat; the way his heart cracked just a little bit more behind you.

His heart knew, and so did yours. It was only a matter of time, they whispered — unseen, but oh so wise.

The next day, you awoke with the sun — golden rays peaked through the blinds of your window. You yawned and sat up to look around your bedroom and the state it was left in from the night before. It had been rough, the date far less than ideal or any semblance of fun, but the sanctuary of your space healed what sadness you felt.

Your bed was strewn with soft, comfortable pillows and blankets. The bookshelves along one wall were full to the brim with books and knick knacks you’d accumulated over the years.

One of which in particular stood out. The smooth, clear glass of the statue shone in the morning light, but the structure was unaffected by the golden glow in its beauty — a pair of jellyfish, intertwined while they danced, stood proud at the front of one of the larger shelves.

Right next to it sat a framed photograph of Bucky and you. It was taken when you first moved into the apartment.

Bucky stood behind you, his head next to yours while his arms wrapped around your middle to hug you tight — the grin that pulled at his lips was priceless with its show of joy. Brown hair covered his forehead in stray strands that stuck to his forehead, and the rest flowed down his neck.

You could see the unpacked boxes behind the two of you in the background — it had been a scorching day and Bucky insisted on being the one to bring them all in, much to your annoyance. You remembered making him the biggest drink to help him feel better once he collapsed onto the couch in what was now your living room.

The memory was one of your favourites; it never failed to make you smile. And if you could still feel the ghost of his lips on your cheek after he said, “We did it, honey, we fuckin’ did it,” you weren’t going to share that with anyone.

Your gaze shifted to yourself in the photo — exhaustion was evident in the bags under your eyes, after so many late nights from stress and packing, Bucky never failed in his mission to cheer you up. Then, you looked at your mouth, and you found yourself imitating the blinding smile you flashed at the camera.

Longing pulled at your heart, the ache of it far too real and material to ignore.

The sudden sound of pans moving in the kitchen caught your attention, followed by the low hum of the fridge while it was opened and closed, then the sizzle of a frying pan over the cooker. You looked at the clock on your bedside drawers and saw it was still early — the reminiscent memories felt like they had taken hours from your day.

“Breakfast,” you mumbled sleepily. The covers shifted as you sat up and rubbed your eyes from the sleep that formed overnight.

“And if the sun starts setting,” a deep voice sang from the kitchen, “The sky goes cold, then if the clouds get heavy and start to fall.”

You froze — the world continued on its axis as though it hadn’t left you behind, reeling to comprehend what you were hearing. “Bucky?” you mouthed confusedly, and you strained your ears to hear the rest of what he was singing.

“I really need somebody to call my own, I wanna be somebody to someone,” he continued quietly. “And if you feel like night is falling, I wanna be the one you're calling; 'cause I believe that you could lead the way.”

Did Bucky really just–? The song died away just as you heard footsteps approaching your door from the hallway. “Shit.” You schooled your expression into something you hoped was neutral after the disorientating disbelief of what you heard.

The door handle rattled gently as Bucky gripped it on the other side, then he knocked softly. “Boo? You awake?” It creaked open. “I’m makin’ breakfast–”

“Hey,” you rasped, still sleep-addled. “I’ll be out in a bit—thanks, Buck.”

Bucky peered around the now open door, and his expression lit up like a child’s on Christmas morning. “Hey, you,” he greeted, and he stepped into your room to lean on the door frame. “How was last night, honey? You got back pretty late.”

“You waited up for me?”

He nodded. “‘Course I did—I didn’t wanna step in on the happy glow after a date, so I just made sure you got to bed alright, that’s all. You’re not exactly a quiet one,” he teased with a wink.

Heat crept up your neck at his thoughtfulness and playful comment, but you powered on. “Oh– Oh, well, it was alright, I guess,” you offered.

Bucky raised a brow and inclined his head, willing you to go on.

��Actually, I ended up–” You hesitated, clearing your throat. There was no way of knowing how he would react to what happened, and it made you nervous for what he would say — always so protective, he was.

“There was a reason for that,” they whispered while they watched from above.

“I ended up, uh– Walking off, you know, away from them.”

The billowing silence that filled the room after your admission faltered your explanation and you fell quiet, unable to explain anymore of what happened.

Bucky stood frozen in the doorway. “I’m sorry—I, uh– I can’t have heard you right, Boo. Say that again?”

In one breath, you said, “I walked off—away from them—because they wouldn’t let me get a word in edgewise and I got sick of it.”

He advanced slowly, footsteps muffled and quiet over the floor. “What?”

“I know and I’m sorry–”

“Why the hell didn’t you call me!” Bucky exclaimed, his bright eyes wide. He gestured at himself and said, “I would have come and got you—you know that I would do anything for you!” The panic in his voice truly didn’t fit the situation and you stared at him, dumbstruck by the fear in his voice. “I– I can’t believe you didn’t call–”

He seemed lost for words as he ran his hands through his hair. “I would have run–”

“Bucky, please,” you rushed, holding a hand out towards his heaving chest to soothe him. “Please, it’s okay. I’m alright. Besides, I have a date tonight with someone better—well, I hope they are.”

The sharp stare that he gave you at the reveal of your plans shocked you to your core. It was full of hurt; a sadness that you would give anything to never see again. “What–?”

He shook his head, the soft strands of his hair covering his face for a brief moment. “Nothin’, honey. I’m just glad you’re home.” There was a pause as he turned back towards the hallway; a flash of something in his eyes, but what, you could not fathom. “C’mon you, breakfast.”

There was another heavy, sombre silence as you watched Bucky retreat towards the kitchen.

The change in Bucky’s attitude made you frown with worry. He was the stronger one of the two of you, that you knew for certain — always steadfast and strong, unwavering in his determination, and this outburst made no sense. He never, ever reacted this way before to any news of a potential date or night out, and the fact that he started now was far too confusing and overwhelming to comprehend.

“To hell with this,” you muttered, and you threw off the covers to get up and get dressed for the battle that awaited you — to get to the bottom of this, you realised, you’d need a warm drink, and some of the breakfast he was preparing.

Rather than dressing in your own clothes, you threw one of Bucky’s shirts over your undergarments and smiled softly as the worn, soft fabric brushed against your skin — a calculated move.

The strong smell of your favourite warm drink wafted down the hallway, enticing you onwards towards the kitchen, where the clang of pots and pans sounded. You slowly padded towards the counter to fetch it, but when Bucky saw you approach from around the corner, he briefly hesitated. “What time do you go–? To your date tonight, I mean,” he asked before he quickly turned away from you.

You narrowed your eyes at the back of his head, where his hair fell loose and long down his neck. “Uh– It’s at six, I think.” The warmth of the drink made you feel a little better while you sipped at it. “I can check in a bit, if you want.”

Bucky hummed and flipped a pancake. “And what are you two doin’?”

The mug made a quiet thump when you placed it down on the counter next to you. “They’re taking me to a Christmas fair—the market in the park?”

“I know the one,” he mumbled, and he didn’t elaborate or continue.

You stared at his broad back, watching as his shoulders flexed and relaxed beneath his shirt while he worked resolutely on preparing breakfast. Suspicion lurked in the corners of your mind — why was he suddenly so interested?

An infinitesimal flicker of hope from his driven curiosity sparked itself to life in your stomach, and you tried your hardest to stomp it out, though it proved difficult. Quietly, you asked, “Are you asking me all this because you’re curious, or–?”

There was no reply — only the sound of the pan in his hand shuffling over the burner and the simmer of pancake batter.

You cleared your throat and stepped closer to him. “Buck–?”

“Nothing.”

“What–?” you stammered, and you placed a hand on the back of his shoulder. Your heart seized like a vice had fastened around it when he stiffened under the soft touch. “Bucky, what’s wrong? You’re acting strange—has something happened?”

“No,” Bucky said tightly, and he shrugged off your hand. That alone had you close to tears. “It’s almost ready, go get–”

“Bucky.”

Stormy blue eyes met yours, and you were shocked to see such a mix of fierce emotions swimming in the depths of his normally stoic gaze. “What?” he snapped.

“Talk to me,” you urged, “What’s wrong?”

Bucky turned back to the stove top, determinedly continuing on with his cooking. “It– It’s nothin’, I promise. Can you pick a movie to watch while we eat?”

The walls he built to protect himself from outsiders were rapidly falling into place against you, blocking you from all of what you knew and loved. The pain of such a realisation made you back off; tears in your eyes as you stepped back from his presence to lean against the counter.

There were no triggers that would make him act so brash, not from what you could parse or define from the past day or night; not any that you witnessed or heard.

“Okay,” you said shortly, and you frowned at him while you walked away.

The two mugs, one of them yours and the other Bucky’s, were warm against your palms while you carried them into the living room. Steam curled in the air under your nose, and you breathed in the spiced scent of Bucky’s drink. From the corner of your eyes, you saw the Christmas tree in the corner of the room as it twinkled, the lights winking and dancing in ignorance of the pain that filled your heart.

Now out of Bucky’s eyeline, you turned and stared at where he would be standing at the stove top. The heat of your stare was weak against the walls he built; unable to pierce through the foundations of his anxieties, nor barrel through them like a wrecking ball to expose the cause.

To see Bucky in such a state of distress plucked at the strings of your heart, and you couldn’t help but feel as though you were to blame — the thought was absurd, but it did not stop the burning broil of shame and anger in your stomach. “Nope, no,” you murmured, squaring your shoulders and balling your hands into fists. “I won’t let this go.”

Your feet carried you towards the kitchen, blissfully ignorant of the way your heart pounded in your chest; a rhythm you were sure that couldn’t last.

Bucky was leaning on the counter, his tattooed hands either side of the stove top, and his fingers, a few adorned with shining, silver rings, were still on the counter. His head hung low between his shoulders that shook minutely from aborted breaths.

“Bugs?” He didn’t move; the nickname did not even stir a reaction.

“I know you’re hurting,” you continued cautiously, and you stepped closer, replacing your hand on his shoulder to rub up and down his back. “Talk to me—let me help.”

“You can’t,” Bucky croaked, his voice strained and oh so pained — like glass was lodged in his throat. “Just– Just go into the living room. I’ll bring the food in a minute.”

“No. No, Buck.” You stepped closer, plastering your front to his side. “Don’t push me out, honey, please.”

Something shattered in his expression, and his bottom lip trembled — a sight you never wanted to see again. And he broke. “Oh, sweetheart,” you whispered, and you pulled him closer to place your forehead against his temple, so your breath fanned over his stubbled cheek. “What’s happened?”

The urge to protect and soothe well in practice now, and you felt the muscles in his face move, as though he was saying something. You couldn’t hear it over the blood roaring in your ears from adrenaline. “I didn’t catch that, honey,” you said softly, stepping impossibly closer. “What was that?”

The next words that fell from Bucky’s mouth tore your still beating heart from your chest. “Please get off me.”

You flinched and stepped back. A vicious, all-consuming ache in your chest took hold, and you stared, wide-eyed and tearful, at the side of Bucky’s head. “Why are you acting like this?” you pressed, still staring hard at him — the way he was breaking apart before you was as tragic as a car accident but you could not look away. “What’s happened to you? Did you have a nightmare–? Did someone say something?”

Bucky’s tattooed, callused hand moved to wipe his eyes, and he shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Just– Please,” he implored, glancing at you then back down at the pan on the stove. “Go get a movie or a show goin’—I don’t care which.”

The frustration boiled over. “Like hell I will,” you snapped. “Not when my best friend is pushing me out—I won’t leave you to wallow, Bucky.”

He groaned and hung his head. “You and your fuckin’ stubbornness, I swear–”

“You swear what, James?”

The look he shot you was full of a bitterness that did not belong on his handsome face. “Don’t do that–”

“Let me help you,” you interrupted, and you felt the claws of desperation sinking deep, gauging marks on your frail heart; the strength of it obvious in your shaky voice. “Please. I just want you to be–”

For a single second, you swore you saw Bucky’s body shift and turn inwards, protecting himself, but when you blinked a budding trail of tears back and it was gone — replaced by his posturing and an expression you could not decipher in your franticness.

It was inevitable that as best friends that the two of you would fight, argue, even disagree heatedly. There had been many times in the past you both had made up and returned to being like you always were, joined at the hip and inseparable, but something broke.

The damage felt well beyond what you thought you could repair, the finality of his hurt the final nail in the coffin, and hell…

There was, not for a moment, where you would not go down without a fight. You held his stare fiercely and started to demand, “What–”

And to your absolute surprise, he held up his hand to stop you and your tirade. The audible click of your jaw as it shut against the words that threatened to spill over echoed around the kitchen.

Bucky stared into your face, his stormy eyes flickering between your own. “You wanna know what I want?” The anger in his tone was something you had never heard from him; always so softly spoken with you, he had never raised his voice when he addressed you. “Do you?”

“Yes,” you replied. “I’m worried about you. You never, ever act like this and it’s scaring me, Bucky—it’s scaring me, you’re scaring me!”

The silence that followed your words and admittance of fear reverberated off of the kitchen walls, figuratively gauging the paint and cupboards and tearing it all to pieces.

Bucky opened his mouth, his lips parting in a grimace. “Boo– Fuck.” His hands combed through his hair, the tattoos on his fingers peeking through the strands; the rings glinted from the downlights above him. “Fuck.”

Raw, pure emotion pounded through your veins, unfiltered and unwanted — he was hurting, and here you were, selfishly digging to find the cause.

The blue of his eyes turned grey while tears built along his own lashes.

Your heart was in your throat, forcing its way up to land in your hands, an offering to him.

Take it, it’s yours.

“Please, please tell me how to help– I can’t let you hurt anymore,” you begged quietly, looking into his face. You stretched out a hand, and Bucky took it. “Talk to me.”

“I can’t tell you,” he rasped, wincing at the sound of his own voice. “Not now—I can’t do it.”

You frowned at him. “It’s okay, Buck—tell me what’s wrong so I can help–”

“Because–” Bucky hissed, cutting you off abruptly. Even louder, he continued, “Because all I have ever fuckin’ wanted was you!”

The claxon-loud silence rang so sharply in your ears that you flinched.

Never before had you heard Bucky shout — never before had you seen the tears stream down his cheeks to collect at his collarbones, staining the collar of his shirt.

Never before did you think that you would hear the words you dreamed of; not now, not ever.

Your lips moved before your mind could catch up. “You– You want me?”

Bucky looked at you, really looked at you, and you realised that he was staring at you with something akin to wonder, a deep fondness like you were the stars in the sky; the lights on a tree at Christmas time — the very same one in the living room.

“I’ve wanted you for so fuckin’ long,” he answered finally. “I’ve just been too much of a fuckin’ coward to say it.”

Blinking back tears, you screwed up your face with a self-loathing that burned hotter than a wildfire. “So, every time I went on a date with someone else–”

“You didn’t know,” Bucky whispered. “How could you have known if I didn’t say shit? How could you have known that I thought you were the one for me if I kept my mouth fuckin’ shut ‘cause I was scared?”

Tears tracked down your cheeks freely, the restraint vanishing as fast as your composure, and you swallowed thickly. “I didn’t know–” You coughed from the sudden parchedness in your throat. “Why–? Why didn’t you tell me?”

He didn’t answer; you rambled on. “I– I wish I knew, I have kept it hidden– Oh, god, Bucky, I’m so–”

Your words — an apology you felt was desperately needed — were cut off by Bucky’s lips on yours. His hands cupped your face, the pads of his thumbs brushing your cheeks to wipe away your tears.

It was a chaste press of his lips on yours, but it was enough to steal your breath from your lungs.

He pulled back from your lips but rested his forehead against yours. Blue eyes bore into yours, once so filled with an unknown agony; now elated, weightless at the confession. The pads of his thumbs continued to brush over your cheekbones, and in the silence, your thoughts reeled.

“I’ve had a crush on you for so long,” you whispered brokenly, barely holding in a sob. “Bucky, I– I wish you told me—I tried to tell you–”

“I’m sorry, Boo—I’m so fuckin’ sorry,” Bucky said softly, and he sniffed. “I didn’t– I should have said somethin’.”

You stared at him, then nodded gently. “Yeah,” you breathed, a half hysterical sound. “You fucking should have, you big, dumb idiot.”

“Well yeah, okay.” Bucky shrugged. “I earned that one.”

The two of you surged forward, kissing with a fervour unseen and you couldn’t stop the way your heart and spirits lifted. How what felt like a helium balloon had been tied around your middle to sweep you off your feet, when, in reality, it was truly just your best friend, the very same one that you had harboured a crush on for a lifetime.

Bucky was the first to pull away, his breath heavy and hot on your lips. “Why don’t I take you out?” he asked, smirking. “There’s a Christmas fair, and I wanna see the way my girl’s eyes light up, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you said, grinning widely at him. “But first? Pancakes.”

“The time had finally come,” they whispered, victorious and proud of the endgame — their smiles remaining unseen, but they were shared, nonetheless.

↠ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ↞

#lana youre gonna make a bitch have a fucking conniption holy WOW #thats some of the best best friends to lovers shit ive ever read fjskgiwofieofiieir #AAAAUUUGGGHHHHHH #i thought you were gonna end on a cliffhanger of them being fucking angry with eachother #if that were the case i almost booked a plane ticket just tk go to Australia and choke you out (affectionately)#FUCK MAN #UGHHHHHH #BUCKY CRYING???? LIKE CRYING CRYING ARE TOU KIDDING ME??????#gonna roll around in this for a while like a dog in grass #wow #wowowowowoww #i know i dont often have the time or energy to sit down and read fic anymore #(i promise i am trying)#but this is so so fucking worth it #*MWAH*#fucking hell man i was crawling up the walls during their fight #and the omnipotent narrators are my FAVE reminds me of two lil cupids #anyways #fuck im not gonna get over this #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #rookthorne's works #partners in crime #rookthorne #boost

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the-bugsnax-journalists · 2 years ago

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Bro u still alive? I miss your context

Have been dealing with a few things (mostly getting my life together), BUT I am getting things proper slowly but surely! Thanks for the concern!

#Alright serious this time I promise I'll try to post something soon #kinda left a cliffhanger there with the journalist post-#I DO have the designs in mind tho! Just gotta get the effort to ya know #DRAW them out

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superdorkcat · 4 months ago

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Upcoming Magical Girl Projects

Magical girl fans are finally eating good after years of starvation. So good, in fact, that I decided to make a list of magical girl projects in development.

The Magical Girl and the Evil Lieutenant Used to Be Archenemies - The most imminent of these projects, since it's premiering only in a few days. It's the story of the forbidden romance between the magical girl Byakuya Mimori and Mira, a high-ranking official of an army trying to take over the world.

Mermaid Magic - In a new western magical girl show from the same studio as Winx Club, Princess Merlinda, with her friends Sasha and Nerissa in tow, ventures to the human world in order to find a way to save her homeland of Mertropia from the ghost pirate Barbarossa and his monster horde. Dropping on Netflix next month.

Acro Trip - One of several new magical girl series coming out in the Fall 2024 anime season, Acro Trip follows Chizuko Date as her efforts to increase appreciation for her idol, local magical girl Berry Blossom, takes her down a "dark path filled with strange folks."

Magilumiere Magical Girls Inc. - Kana Sakuragi is having a hard time finding work, botching over 15 different job interviews. However, her luck changes when a series of events lands her a job at the magical girl company Magilumiere.

The Story of the Girl Who Couldn't Become a Wizard - The third of the magical girl anime coming out in October, MahoNare for short tells the story of Kurumi Mirai as she tries to become a wizard anyways after failing to get into her school's magic division.

Puella Magi Madoka Magica the Movie - Walpurgisnacht Rising - The fourth PMMM movie, which will pick up where Rebellion's massive cliffhanger left off. It's currently set to come out sometime later this year.

Cute High Earth Defense Club Eternal Love! - The magical boy series is getting a new movie in winter 2025 as part of the celebrations for its 10th anniversary. While the movie will "consist entirely of new scenes that will be newly drawn," exact plot details are unknown. (Added August 7, 2024)

Mahou Tsukai Precure: Mirai Days - A new installment in the Precure franchise, Mirai Days will serve as a sequel to Mahou Tsukai, the thirteenth season. Even though it's premiering early next year, specific plot details are currently unknown.

Princess Session Orchestra - A TV original coming next year, Princess Session Orchestra is based on a concept by Akifumi Kaneko, one of Symphogear's co-creators. The land of Alicepia's peace is destroyed when monsters called Jammerwocks attack, prompting a trio of young girls to step up the plate to protect the realm.

Winx Club - The western magical girl classic is getting a CGI reboot. While comments by Iginio Straffi imply that certain characters who were introduced later in the original series (such as Roxy and Nabu) will appear earlier, no specific plot details have been revealed so far. The series is coming to Netflix late next year.

New Panty & Stocking with Garterbelt - Panty & Stocking is getting a second season after over a decade that's coming out sometime next year with no specific plot details revealed yet. (Added August 7, 2024)

Project Symphogear Next - A new Symphogear movie was announced late last year. However, no further details have been revealed.

Hua Xianzi: Zhi Mofa Xiang Dui Lun - A co-production between Tencent Video and Toei Animation's Shanghai branch, this anime is being billed as a "remake" of Lunlun the Flower Fairy. That being said, promises of "a fresh story and characters" make it sound more like a reboot.

Studio Pierrot's new anime - Studio Pierrot, which has made a variety of magical girl anime from Creamy Mami to Tokyo Mew Mew, has announced that they're creating a new TV original magical girl anime. No specific details have been disclosed, but the caption for the teaser image ("I want you to sing once more...") implies that it'll be a magical idol anime.

Lolirock season three - After Lolirock's second season ended with a cliffhanger all the way back in 2017, it seemed like the story would never get a proper conclusion. However, the series's creator and director, Jean-Louis Vandestoc, announced on his Instagram in 2023 that creative meetings for a third season have begun.

Magic Knight Rayearth revival - TMS Entertainment is making a new Magic Knight Rayearth anime in honor of the franchise's 30th anniversary. Unfortunately, it's currently unknown what the format will be.

Cardcaptor Sakura: Clear Card season two - The sequel to the magical girl classic is getting a second season that will adapt the rest of the manga.

Magical Girl holoWitches - A multimedia project starring six VTubers as fictionalized versions of themselves who work as both streamers and magical girls who save people when they get trapped in the magical Holocas World. There was a four minute extended trailer in May, but the anime's proper premiere date is unknown.

Ojamajo Doremi 16-20's - An adaptation of Ojamajo Doremi's light novel sequel series, which follows the girls as they grow from being in their mid-teens to early 20s. Interestingly, the format for the adaptation (TV show, movie, or streaming series) will be based on the reception of a music video featuring the girls as adults.

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atyourmerci · 8 months ago

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☀︎To the light is to the darkness✩

Abby X reader X Ellie

Prologue to vengeance (can be read alone)

☀︎ ☀︎

Summary: Abby is your childhood best friend, you did everything together, taught each other everything. You were utterly infatuated with each other until Ellie Williams enters your world.

Warning: smut, MDNI, porn w lots of plot, innocence arc, mutual pining, lots of sexual tension, mutual masturbation (in the same room, together), fingering if you squint, useless lesbians, lesbian love triangle, abby needs a hug, phoebe bridgers as her own warning, no use of y/n, no physical description of reader

A/N: okay so holy fuck did I get carried away with this one. I didn’t want to leave yall on a cliffhanger but this dynamic deserves more and I don’t want to rush through it. I hope yall enjoy. This chapter is mostly just abby but there will be lots more Ellie in the next chapter promise :)

✩ ✩

“Someone you couldn’t lose. You said we’re not together, so now when we kiss I have anger issues.”

She asked when it had all started. The truth was you weren’t really sure. There was no definitive date or period of time that signified the beginning or end of it.

A relationship that felt more of interlacing two souls into one that resided in two structures. Shared autonomy of mind, breath, word, and body. Unspoken feelings, touches, and stares.

What started in green fields of pink flowers and brown roots ended in dark rooms and pining embraces. Hand shakes turning into interlaced fingers, laughter filled glances turning into tense stares, and experimental pecks turning into open mouthed pants.

The first time you meet abby was at school at 15. Bright eyed and bushy tailed still untainted from the reality of the world around you. You were quite shy in those years, keeping yourself away from the wild hairs of children ready to grow up and take charge. You were okay with the stability of childhood, the sticky sweet feeling of safety and uncharted terror.

Before Abby’s dad had died, before the muscles and long locks of golden blonde hair she was reserved too. Abby was wrapped in a bubble of comfort, a loving community that doted on her. She felt no need to join the crowd of chaos when she had everything she needed.

Well she thought she did…and then she met you.

In class you had your face shoved into a notebook doodling away of ferns and dandelions you had seen in the fields early that day. If it were up to you, you’d spend every last dying breath in the fields, soaking in sunlight and trailing your fingers through the rows of flowers.

Abby sat next to you in class, always too shy to speak up to you. You always seemed so busy, either reading, drawing, or with your head in the clouds, never truly listening to the lecture ahead. She admired your creativity, attention to detail, and the utter sense of unawareness to your surroundings. She wondered why you didn’t talk to the others, you were so inviting, so pretty. She once wished to look like you, how effortlessly magnificent you looked.

She grew too curious, over zealous at the thought of being close to you, understanding you. She knew she had to speak up.

“H-hey you draw pretty cool- I mean- it’s really good…what you draw.”

You had never taken more than a glance at the freckled girl until then. She always seemed just as busy as you, so you never bothered her.

You let out a bellied laugh at the now crimson red faced girl- completely embarrassed by her attempt at recognition.

And that was that. The two of you were inseparable, attached at the hip from then on out.

Abby seemed to understand your weird quirks and odd fascinations. Even when she didn’t, she was there open minded and wide eyed to hear your lengthy ramblings on about nothingness.

Sometimes it felt like you did most of the talking. Not that it was one sided or you wouldn’t let her butt in, but rather she was completely enamored by what you thought. Sometimes all she wanted to do was to hear you talk, you were her favorite person, the own mold of herself.

She wanted to think what you thought, feel what you felt, see the world through your eyes.

As the years went on you only seemed to grow closer to abby as she grew fonder of you.

Some could call it an obsession, the way you treated each other. Not a single thought went by that the other didn’t know. If you were there, so was abby. If you knew something, so did she.

Everyday she would follow you to the fields after school, your special escape you’d learn to share with the other half of your being.

You’d make her lay across the flower ridden fields so you could draw her glistening hair kissed by the whisk of wind. She let her hair grow longer since you’d ask to braid it for her every morning. She liked it short but she wanted to let you have room to make intricate designs and lace them with weeds you’d found.

Abby would playfully nudge you when you’d draw the hump on her nose in the drawings, but you loved it too much to not appreciate it. You loved all the things she couldn’t in herself.

You two spent hours out in the field daily, even when it rained you’d make her dance around like fairies as mud splattered across your shins. Anything you wanted, she’d do as long as it was with you.

That’s when you asked her to try kissing, she’d obliged.

“Have you ever…kissed anyone?” You ask staring off into the cloud painted sky, tall grass framing your bodies.

She lets out a breathy giggle, “no… you would know if I did.”

You shrug, shoulder crashing gently into hers, “I don’t know, maybe it was too embarrassing to say.”

She trails off, “h-have you?”

“No dumbass you would know…” you push your shoulder into her turning to give her a toothy smile, “what if I’m not good when a boy kisses me?”

Her eyes remained trained onto the pillowy cloud, “you can try on me- I-if you want to.”

It was a good idea, she wasn’t going to judge you, she was your best friend, she was only there to help.

“Okay.” And without a second thought your upper body shot up and lent over hers, pressing your lips into her plush pink ones. It was gentle, only a placement amongst the flesh, yet so charged. Butterflies fluttered through your stomach and up to your throat, something you had only felt once before when you and abby went swimming.

Closeness you thought. Being close to someone causes that. How nice it was to be so close to your favorite person, maybe one day you could feel close to someone again.

After that you continued to experiment kissing. At sleepovers you’d talk about the boys you wanted to kiss, then show each other how you would kiss them. It turned into an innocent routine, pecking her before she would leave, kissing her in the fields when you felt the butterflies.

You’d told her about them- the fluttering in your stomach. Whenever you felt them she told you that she wanted to feel them too. Transferring them through the soft pink flesh, she’d say she’d feel them after.

Soon she’d tell you when she got them, to which you’d return the gesture back. As time went on, the butterflies came more often.

People were starting to notice the relationship, started talking about how close the two of you were. You’d shoo off the irrational comments and over zealous accusations, but abby never did. She just didn’t respond.

“Who am I to ask for more? But you’re breathing in my open mouth. You’re the gun in my lips that will blow my brains out.”

Abby started spending the night daily, she practically lived in your room at that point. After her dad died your relationship grew stronger than ever. In such a treacherous time she clung to the only person who truly understood her. Many a nights she spent huddled into a ball in your lap weeping as you smoothed the hair behind her ear and rubbing circles into the grown muscles in her back.

Abby had taken to working her emotions out in physical labor. Now being a solider full time out of school she had grown muscular and more rough. Her heart was still the same for you, but had grown caged off to the people around you.

Her pleasantries for the rest of the community had grown stale, only allowing a few to get near her. But you… there was always an indefinite spot inside her for you.

Since abby was always around now, in the darkness of every night, privacy had flown right out the window. Not that you had minded- there wasn’t much of really anything abby didn’t know or hadn’t seen.

But when that eery sense of familiarity crept up, when the butterflies would come at night.

She had started out sleeping on the extra bed in your room. Before she had practically moved in she’d sleep with you, but since her stay turned to no vacancy she’d taken to given you the last sense of space, even when you hadn’t asked.

In the middle of darkness as the crickets chirped outside the window you’d tell her the feeling had come back, and she’d always agree, and the room would fall silent again.

“Abby?” You call out to a darkened room, illuminated by the shine of the moon.

“Yeah?” She’d call back from the other side.

“Do you ever…fix the feelings of the butterflies. Like make them go away?”

“Uh yeah- sometimes…when it gets bad.”

“I think mine are…bad right now,” it felt embarrassing almost, there was nothing she could do to help, fix your issue. Transferring the butterflies to abby only made them worse sometimes, and you were boiling.

“M-mine too,” she admits.

“You can fix it- if you need to.”

“A-re you going to stop yours?”

“Is that okay?” You say reluctantly into the tense air coating you. Every slight move felt with a million nerves.

“Mhmm,” she responds, a rustling heard coming from her direction.

Soft hums filled the air from the feeling of release you had allowed yourself in the presence of your best friend. Abby’s breathy moans would only follow quickly after your own, never before.

Dual release become a routine. Allowing the sticky sweet sensations of climaxing in the same bedroom of your other half. It became another thing you shared with her, another check on the list of the endeavors you’d participated in with her.

Talks of the butterflies and the unleashing of them never left those four chipping walls. Some things were meant for just Abby’s ears. All best friends must do the same. You’d never heard of others talk of sorts so you sealed your lips, a secret kept like a bird in a cage.

As you both had grown accustomed to the routine things gradually got more intense. Sometimes you couldn’t get the butterflies to fly away even when you tried for hours, panting out whimpers of frustration. Even when they would go away sometimes they would crept back in immediately, your body unable to be satiated.

Abby begun sleeping in the bed with you, to calm the frustrating unnerve you felt after no avail. She’d tell you she wish she could help you, make them go away. She’d do anything to make you happy.

That’s when you started touching yourselves next to each other. The routine was upheld for so long that it felt natural to do it even when she was right next to you. First fully covered, then in undergarments, to finally completely bare.

Seeing Abby’s bare flesh only made it worse. You weren’t stupid, the pieces were falling into place before your eyes. But you hadn’t seen anyone else naked before, maybe it would be the same. Her flesh so pale, her nipples shades of pale pink roses, and the hair that trailed down to her folds as golden as wheat. You had never seen something so magnificent, so beautifully crafted.

That was something you didn’t share with her. The drawings of her bare flesh. You made sure to memorize each chisel, line, and freckle to be as accurate as possible once you got to your notebook. With every piece of her revealed opening thousands of opportunities to draw her art. She was so fucking beautiful.

“When was the first time?” The auburn girl had asked you.

It all had meshed into a blur, what had happened and when it did. When you and abby had started sleeping together it started on opposite ends. Heat not close enough to sting your flesh but the air still tense enough to be cut clean with a blade. As time grew on and the routine becoming daily, the space between you started to close in. Knees brushing as your legs wavered, arms transferring sticky sweat in the blistering heat of arousal.

The inevitable placement of foreheads touching as you watched each other fall apart, watching the butterflies flutter out of her throat with every pant.

From what you could call the ‘beginning’ of sorts, rather an act of mercy, came from her.

You found yourself in the familiar position of unnerve. Rubbing aimless quick circles on your abused clit. It became a matter of principle at the point, needing to fulfill the urge even knowing the outcome would leave you more helpless than before. Abby’s butterflies were far gone, now rubbing lazy stripes down her slit in attempt to not let you feel alone. She never wanted you to feel like she wasn’t completely enthralled by your every move.

Your leg sprawled across her own, wide open, bucking your hips into the air as you let out frustrated grunts, eyes sealed shut in concentration. She just watched. She loved watching you touch yourself. Abby felt like the luckiest girl in the world getting to watch you, kiss you, feel you. She wanted to feel more of you, every atom in your body she’d kiss if you’d allow it.

“Let me help” she said, eyes trained on your open mouth.

Your brain was too fuzzy to even comprehend the depth of the act, so pent up and eager.

“Mhmm,” was all you could muster up. As her calloused fingers transferred from her skin to your abdomen, your body jolted up. You had never been touched by another. Not like this. She took her time running the tips of her fingers from your side to the mound, taking your hand and moving it your thigh so she could replace it with her own.

Something deep in your belly erupted when you felt her fingers meet your clit. A flock of doves released from their cage, a gasping goldfish meeting water. An exaggerated sigh of relief came out as a depraved moan. Every nerve in your body heightened by her gentle touch.

She drew cautious and attentive swipes across the newly swollen bud, watching for when your breath would hitch.

“You’re so warm,” she said studying your face as it contorted in pleasure. Your chin raised high, burying your scalp into the frilly pillows below. She had then studied the flesh around your neck, oh why had she never noticed that. How thin the skin was there, how close she could get to you in that space.

“I-it feels b-better when you do it,” you admit to her, water in her hands, hips grinding into the soft touch of her. “Y-yeah really?” She says, perking up, so pleased with knowing she could make you feel better. She’d do anything to make you feel better.

You let your stagnant hand run down her chiseled chest to meet her mound, her sticky slit pooling at her core. You meant to return the favor, an eye for an eye. “It’s okay- just let me help you.”

You shook your head in agreement, but let your hand rest on the pulsing flesh, you wanted to feel her like she felt you.

With every gentle circle she took you closer to release. It was so much faster when she did it. When you did it together before you would lie there for hours flicking at the raw skin to no avail, but in minutes she had you tipping at your edge.

Her strokes felt akin to the ones on your notebook, gentle and cautious direction, seeking a desirable outcome. You’d thought to picture this, able to recreate this on paper shielded from her eyes. What would she think if she saw them? Maybe you’d grown too fond of the other half of your heart.

“Abby!” You scream out, nearing your pending release.

“Y-yeah? D-does it feel okay- are you okay?” She perks up in concern, helplessly worried she had hurt you.

“Yes- Yes! It- it’s coming,” you pant out, body slick with sweat as your arousal pools below you. A sloppy mess of bodies interlaced with remorseless pleasure.

“Let me feel them, I want to feel them,” abby says inches from your face, intently watching the contortions of your face below her. The butterflies, oh how she wished she could flutter in your tummy as they do so effortlessly.

You cave shamelessly, pressing into the soft pink flesh. You try to keep them stable, but as you reach the cliffs edge you can’t help but moan pathetically into her throat. Your hips thrust into the calloused fingers, chasing the lasting feelings of her, escaping your doom and passing the burden through your lips onto hers.

You did draw of this, and every time after that. It became an obsession, mental images snapshotted to accuracy for replication later.

The routine increased in frequency and intensity. Exploring each other’s most sacred places. She would let you touch her sometimes, but only when she was touching you. Abby seemed more interested in your pleasure than her own. But she cared about you, she never wanted you unsettled. She wanted to be your salvation.

“I ask you how you’re doing and I let you lie. But we don’t have to talk about it, I can walk you home and practice method acting. I’ll pretend being with you doesn’t feel like drowning.”

“Does she make you feel them?”

She asked when it had all started. The truth was you weren’t really sure. There was no definitive date or period of time that signified the beginning or end of it.

Ellie Williams was so…vulgar, erratic, a ticking time bomb. The pieces of the puzzle connected at last when you lied eyes on the auburn haired girl.

She had entered the WLF as gentle as a bomb to a building. Fiery hot attitude, a chip on her shoulder, and drowning green eyes. At first glance she utterly captivated your ever fleeting thoughts.

When she first walked through the corridors of the stadium your eyes fixed on her, staring rudely at her every move. “Who is that, the girl?” You ask the unfazed blonde next to you, too busy working at sharpening a blade, “names Ellie, they say she’s trouble. By the looks of her, checks out.”

“What did she do? Why is she here?” You continue your glare, taking note of the pink scare rippled along the crest of her eye.

You had never drawn anyone other than abby, but the girls features were so strong, the strokes would come naturally in your grasp. A secret muse possibly, even from a far.

“I don’t know- stay away from her. She reeks of trouble,” she’d remark, finishing off the blade and leading you off to a pending mission.

You tried, you really did. She was so compelling, and you? You were a bee to honey. Was she soft unlike her features? Did she speak of the world beyond her? Did she like to watch the clouds mesh into unlikely objects? Did she know of the butterflies and their ever present existence in your lungs?

Your notebook grew of only her, the short frayed hair, the pink scare, the freckles that littered her face. So effortlessly magnificent she was, unknowingly your own secret work of art.

Until abby found them.

Related to this work

Song lyrics: casual , waiting room , cool about it

Moodboard

If you enjoy the childhood best friend trope with abby highly recommend this fic by @kieranscaren she writes beautifully and gave me great inspiration for this work:)

Taglist: @wishbones999 @bookpagecandlescent @littlegingerperson5 @lookforthelight1 @fict1onallyobsessed @shewantstoknow @a-little-bit-of-everybody

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alltimefail · 2 months ago

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Idk if anyone is a fan of Manifest but it was in a similar situtation as Dead Boy Detectives is: canceled on a cliffhanger and then picked back up. There's a fantastic, enlightening article on how the fans managed to make that happen:

The TLDR, when it comes down to it? VIEWS.

So, Point 1 I'm trying to make: REWATCH THE FUCK OUT OF THIS SHOW. Have it on all day, every day and when it gets to the Netflix Top-10 trending DO NOT STOP. Have it on in the background on a low volume, pop some headphones in if you don't want to hear it. Literally KEEP WATCHING. DO NOT CANCEL YOUR NETFLIX ACCOUNT.

Point 2: If you have a family member or friend who hasn't watched Dead Boy Detectives, ask them to. If they're not interested, here's what I suggest - ask them to let you sign into their account and watch it full through to help boost the viewership. Do it at night when they're sleeping or while they're at work and don't need their account. If Netflix sees an uptick in accounts who have never watched this show watching it, that will raise eyebrows.

They do not care about our feelings. They do not care about the integrity of artful storytelling or the importance of queer representation.

They care about views. We need to give them views. A tremendous turnaround in viewership post-cancellation will make them reconsider. That's how we save our show. It's just like Crystal Palace said - we need a unified front if we're going to face the mistress of doom (Netflix HQ) out there!!!

STREAM THE FUCK OUT OF THIS SHOW and do not stop telling others to do the same! If you were on the fence about watching this show, this is your sign to watch it because we need you now more than ever! I promise you will love it, the show is so meaningful, fun, and special... plus we are an awesome, active fandom with talented writers and artists! You will have a great time here and you know what if you don't like it you can personally kick me in the shin honestly! Please help us save our show!

#I really do suggest reading this article #dead boy detectives #dbda #charles rowland #edwin payne #payneland #crystal palace #niko sasaki #dbda netflix #save dead boy detectives #dead boy detectives netflix #the dead boy detectives #the dead boy detective agency

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tiredmamaissy · 5 months ago

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Ralak te Sepawn ieyk’itan: Special Episode VI

Labor of Love - Part I

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's insanely talented creator @zestys-stuff. Thank you so much for allowing me to play around with your characters!

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (25) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (20) featuring Metkayina!Zu’té (29)

Warnings: this shit has zero smut, angst angst angst, did i say angst?, this is so dramatic i'm sorry, expletives, a bit of fluff, pregnancy, cliff hanger, let me know if i forgot anything

Word Count: 8k

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: You are now entering angst town, please buckle your seatbelts and try to enjoy the ride. Jokes aside, GUYS. This chapter…is the most angsty thing I’ve ever written. I’m excited and nervous, and everything in between. There’s a lot going on in this chapter and I just hope to Eywa that I’ve written it in a way that flows and is easy to follow. I’ve had this idea brewing for months, it feels. Now…this shit was over 20,000 words long. That is a personal record and I will not be subjecting you guys to such a monstrosity. Therefore, this is part one of (at the moment) three. I apologise in advance for the cliffhanger, hehe. Also, welcome to my brain, because idk how I came up with this shit.

Synopsis: You didn’t foresee this, Ralak kept you in the dark for the sake of you and your baby’s safety. But now the time has come, it’s all too overwhelming for you to process.

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Ralak never shared more than he needed to when it came to his duties with Tonowari. No matter how much you vowed to keep it confidential. He’s a man of few words, but when it came to his business he kept them fewer.

As much as you knew, his trips inland consisted of hunting and gathering bigger game that most warriors struggled to handle.

There's a few times you can count on one hand that he's come home a little more worn down. Each time you cursed Tonowari under your breath as you helped your mate unwind. You’d insist on knowing what the olo’eyktan had him doing to be so spent and why he had not entirely fulfilled his promise to lighten Ralak of his duties since the mating.

Ralak would be quick to shut you down in the most gentle way despite feeling irritable and sombre. It was always something along the lines of, ‘it keeps you safe, and that is my duty’, and that he’ll ‘discuss it when the time comes’.

It seems the time has come.

Another gloomy night, rain and thunder tear through the sky. These storms are more frequent in this season, as it’s Ewyas way of keeping the balance with the freshwater and seawater ratio for the mangroves.

But tonight it’s torrential. You’re in full bloom, ready to step into your new chapter of motherhood at any moment. The babe sits low in your womb and you’re swollen from what feels like head to toe. The rain isn’t helping with the soreness in your joints.

Ralak is seated next to the crackling firepit, stirring the bubbling stew with one hand and mindlessly rubbing your swollen ankles with the other. Meanwhile you lay snuggled in bed, wrapped comfortably in the thick shawl as you listen to the pitter-patter. It’s peaceful, despite the dull ache in your lower back. Maybe the rain isn’t so bad, after all.

Ta-toom!

The low-pitched sound of the war horn has Ralak's full attention, shredding him of whatever serenity he had in his being. Moving hastily, he stands and darts over to the marui door, slipping into his gear and fixing his largest spear on his back.

The scene unfolding before your eyes is a rare one. You’d only seen him in full gear on the day you first laid eyes on him. The day you arrived here in Awa’atlu. And it brings a sinking feeling to your stomach.

“Ralak… what was that?” You ask nervously.

You watch him aggressively tighten the strap of his tstalsena [knife sheathe; carrier] and chuck a bucket of water in the fire—killing the flame. A precautionary measure. He knows the time has come. He hears your voice but he also hears Tonowari's...

'When the horn sounds… you come. And that…is an order.'

In his head, he’s going through an array of possible responses but there’s simply no time for any of them. Using the frame of the bed to pull yourself up, you slowly come to your feet and waddle towards him.

“Ralak. What is going on?” You ask a little louder, a hand gripping his wrist.

Turning to face you, his hands fly to support your stomach as he looks you deeply in the eyes. Then he kisses you with purpose. Pressing his lips into yours like it would be the last time, forcing himself to pull away to briefly glance down at his unborn.

It catches you by surprise, leaving you looking up at him open mouthed. Now you’re really scared. It feels like he’s being plucked away from your fingers and there’s nothing you can do about it. “Ralak—”

“I will explain when I am back. All of it.” He already sounds out of breath, fixing the shawl over your shoulders. “You stay here. Stay warm. Do not leave. Do not answer to anyone. Understand?”

Your forehead wrinkles as you try to process this all.

Don’t answer to anyone? To whom? Why did he put out the fire? Why is he in full gear? What the fuck is going on right now? He said he’d be back…right?

“Y/n.” He booms your name, yet his tone remains steady and calm. “Understand?”

You nod hurriedly, “Yes. Yes.”

“I will be back soon.” He fixes your shawl a last time before stepping back and bolting through the door.

You follow behind him, keeping the marui flap open to watch him click for his skimwing. He makes the bond and mounts the beast hastily, and is airborne soaring towards the mainland at full tilt.

Befuddled, you waddle back inside, your back slamming into the marui stilt as you huff and puff to catch your breath. You nervously check the stew, and see that it’s almost done. The glowing charcoal should be enough to finish it off, so you opt to leave it covered and fidget with the prrsmung [baby carrier] you've weaving for the past couple days.

Anything to keep you busy.

——

Ralak effortlessly dismounts his tsurak, letting it glide past him in the water as he climbs up to the communal pod. This is a gathering place for important meetings and announcements to the clan. He watches as others assemble under the larger, woven marui, drenched with the water of the sea and sky. It’s clear that this was a signal for the warriors of the clan, from the elite, to the former. The young and the old.

Even Zu’té is present, standing lone far off in the corner.

War horn in hand, the olo’eyktan makes his presence known as he stands on the highest part of the pod. His mate, the tsahìk, stands next to him with her chest high and their children next to her.

Jake and Neytiri, along with Lo’ak and Neteyam, group together behind them at the back of the pod, observing the unfolding scene. The warriors begin to chant, defensively positioned with their tongues on display. They’re all armed and ready to protect their own from whatever the impending threat is. Ralak takes his place next to Tonowari, standing tall and still. He observes the uproar before him, his mask of indifference fixed tightly to his face.

“Mawey. Mawey. [Calm. Calm.]” Ronal speaks loudly over the heavy rain, hands splayed out in front of her.

But it makes no difference.

The uproar is growing even louder than the downpour. It was rare to hear this particular horn. It’s been years, ten, to be exact. And those who know exactly what it means are up in arms. Ralak knew this day would soon come, but he was hoping to Eywa that it would be after the birth of his son. Tonowari lets loose a throaty ‘gwah’, driving the butt of his spear into the ground. The crowd hushes down into a dead silence, acknowledging their leader.

“Warriors of Awa’atlu. I summon you for good reason. Ten years have passed and it is time to meet with the ash people once more.” Tonowari begins, only for the younger warriors to mumble among themselves, some of who are unaware of who the ash people are.

“Tìfnu! [silence!]” Ralak snaps through his teeth, “…the olo’eyktan speaks.” Tonowari nods to Ralak.

“The treaty has ended. We meet with them far inland to discuss the terms of a new treaty.” Tonowari’s eyes bounce among the sea of na’vi. “It will be no easy or short journey. We must make the trek by foot. Tonight.”

A few male na’vi are unable to keep their excitement to a minimum and siren a few calls, smacking their strakes together. Neytiri snakes her arm around Jake's upper bicep, tucked under his wing. Neteyam and Lo’ak listen intently, their heads tilted down as they grip their bows firmly.

“Not all will come. I have chosen a few to be at my side.” Tonowari glances at Ralak, and then the Sullys before continuing, “The rest must stay and protect the clan if needed.”

Ronal interjects, speaking of the ash na’vi and their horrid way of living—from their occasionally cannibalistic diet to their view of Eywa and the balance. She further reminds the people of the treaty, and that its tenets include immunity from their ‘hunting practices’ in exchange for a resource only attainable on the reef. The treaty is valid for a decade and then the terms are subject to negotiation based on the two tribe’s needs. She commences it by announcing the names of those who have been chosen by Tonowari.

“I need you by my side, Ralak.”

It was a direct order, and Ralak knows that. He knows that no matter what he says, the olo’eyktan’s order must be obeyed. But it doesn’t mean he won’t try.

“She is due any day now. You know that.” Ralak speaks crystal clear, stating exactly what his concerns are.

He doesn’t want to leave you alone, especially so heavy and full with his firstborn, who will come at any moment. Every bone in his body is telling him it’s the wrong move. But Tonowari glances at his own wife who is swollen with his fourth child.

“I know. I know, Tak. But we must do what we need. For the people.”

Ralak holds a stare with his superior—his father figure. He’s gritting his teeth to keep himself together, to keep his composure. To keep his thoughts just as his thoughts. The two communicate through facial expressions, and a quick tilt to Tonowari’s head has Ralak looking away in frustration.

It’s final.

“No.” Jake butts in, sharp and quick with his disapproval. “He gave me his word.”

Alas, a moment where father and son in law are in favour of the same thing.

“You have the sky people and we have the ash people. They demand his (Ralak’s) presence. If we fail in this, we will be at war. He comes with us.” Tonowari is stern with his tone, leaving no room for an argument.

“Ma’ Jake.” Neytiri chimes in, fright evident in her voice. She is tired of the war.

As a last resort, Ralak’s gaze shifts over to Zu’té. He knew Zu’té would also be chosen despite his...'retirement'. He was undoubtedly one of the best warriors the clan has ever had, wielding great strength and skill. Zu’té returns the stare, crossing his arms over his chest as he cocks a brow. Their brothership had strengthened after Ralak sought help.

Jake notices this, and shakes his head with his hands on his hips. “Nope. No. Who is that guy anyways?”

“My brother.”

“His brother.”

The two taller na’vi speak at once.

“Since when do you have a—You know what? I don’t care. Okay? You? I trust. Him? Not so much. I’d rather my boys stay with her.” Jake says sternly, glancing at Zu’té. “No offence, bud.”

“Good thing I care not for your opinion, koaktan [old man].”

“Zu’té.” Ralak whispers harshly, throwing a glare at his sibling.

“Look, if you got a problem—”

“What about tuk?” Neytiri cuts her mate short, tugging at his arm to remind him of who is watching their youngest daughter.

“Then they take turns or somethin’, I’m not havin’ one baby girl watched and not the other.”

“Toruk makto.” Tonowari lays a heavy hand on the former olo’eyktan's shoulder, drawing him away to break the tension. “They cannot step foot on our land with the treaty. She will be safe. Trust me…” Their voices drown out from the pounding downpour.

As they go back and forth, Ralak begins to process what Tonowari said.

‘They demand his presence’.

Tonowari had made this meeting the topic of conversation over the past few weeks, preparing him for this. But he never mentioned anything about them demanding his attendance in particular. The last meeting with the ash people happened when Ralak was a very young warrior, long before his iknimaya.

Back then, Tonowari had a different warrior at his side—a different right hand. She was strong and well known for being patient with her students. It was a frequent story at family dinner when Tonowari and Ronal took Ralak under their wing. And as Ralak became Tonowari's right hand man, he was thrusted into enforcing the tenets of the treaty, going inland with Tonowari to uphold the clan's part.

Ralak has only caught a glimpse of them once after delivering the resource to the agreed spot. He had just started these excursions with Tonowari, and his curiosity got the best of him. He looked behind him for just a moment, and caught the sight of a curvy, grey woman hastily gathering and stuffing everything into a satchel of some sort.

Her stripes were a deep, ashy blue, and her skin seemed almost scale-like. She was rid of any bioluminescence, as if the light within her was gone, and her hair was matted with what looked like burgundy clay. Tonowari then seized the back of Ralak’s neck and shoved him along, advising that he never looks.

“It is decided. Neteyam, Lo’ak and Zu’té stay.” Tonowari announces as he and Jake rejoin the group, looking at those who are left—Tonowari, Neytiri and Ralak. “We leave soon, make your arrangements.”

Ralak knew his last few words were directed to him. With that, Ralak strides towards Zu’té. “I know what I am asking of you, Zu’té—”

“I will do this for you.” Zu’té turns to face Ralak, who’s undeniably uneasy and concerned.

“Protect her.”

“You protect her. Get in and get out of there, baby brother.” Zu’té speaks, extending his hand out to Ralak. Ralak nods firmly. He’s right, your safety, along with the rest of the clan’s, depends on how this all plays out.

“Oe irayo si ngaru [I give thanks to you].” Ralak's hand meets Zu’té’s forearm with a smack. They tug back and forth a bit, silently wishing each other luck on their own endeavours before setting off on their skimwings.

They arrive, walking with haste along the beach towards the stairs to Ralak’s marui pod in the pouring rain.

“That’s...interesting.” Zu’té makes a comment about the railings for the stairs.

“She has a hard time without it.” Ralak responds, stopping at the bottom step, coming to the quick realisation that this man will essentially be replacing him for the next few eclipses. “She may need help using them.”

Zu’té nods, understanding what he really means. “Do not fret, brother. I will take care of your mate.”

Ralak releases a shaky breath as they make their way to the patio, finding shelter from the rain.

“Wait here.” Ralak speaks with his back turned, “I must speak with her first.”

——

A torturous hour has passed, and you’ve burned circles into your marui floor from pacing so much. He’s taking longer than you’d expected, and worry is really starting to set in now.

What’s going on? What did that sound mean? Why did he leave in such a rush? With all his gear, too?

You gnaw at the calloused piece of skin on your thumb, keeping a warm comforting hand on your bump to keep your kicking babe calm. Regardless, he continues doing somersaults in your womb.

Fuck it.

You rush towards the marui door where your gear hangs, and fight with the strap of your chest piece to slip it on you. It won’t fasten and it’s simply too tight to fit your body right now, but you continue to grapple with the stupid strap with shaky hands.

“Tanhì.” Ralak’s voice is rough and he sounds winded. “What are you doing?” He rushes over to you and quickly removes the piece off your chest.

“Ralak—oh, thank Eywa.” Your voice is shaky, but thick with relief. “I’m sorry, I just got s-so worried.”

“We must speak. Time is going.” Ralak carefully ushers you over to the bed, and assists you in sitting down, holding your swollen belly along the way. He takes note of his active child, feeling his little kicks and pokes. He comforts his young with a few strokes to your stomach. “Shh-shh, little one. Alright.”

He knows this whole ordeal must be stressing you both, and he’s really regretting not telling you all of this sooner.

“What do you mean?” You ask, urgency thick in your voice.

Ralaks demeanour is nothing short of solemn, tensed jaw and tightened lips. It seems serious, and this man is no person to jest on such matters.

"Ralak...What is happening?"

He takes a moment to reply, his gaze fixed on his hand that still lays firmly on your stomach. He then looks up at you, concern etched into his features. “It is time to speak about… my duties with Tonowari.”

You feel your heart thud against your ribcage, your eyes widen at the words. You’ve been eager to know, but now that he’s telling you, it implies that everything isn’t alright. It implies… the safety of your unborn is compromised. You nod slowly, trying to remain calm for the sake of your son.

“We reef people hold a peace treaty with another clan…” the giant begins, slipping his hand from your stomach to clasp yours tightly. “…the ash people.”

“Ash people?” Your voice is less than a whisper, tiny and croaky.

“They are a horrible people, tanhì. Truly wicked. Kawnglan [malicious; bad hearted]. Much like the sky people.” He shakes his head as he mutters the words, not even wanting to go into any more detail. He didn’t want to taint your innocence. To stress your mind. Especially now that you’re heavy with his child. “The treaty keeps them off this land. It keeps you safe.”

“Kawnglan [malicious; bad hearted].” You repeat through a gasp.

“To them, Eywa is nothing. Tsaheylu [the bond] is for control. Their diet…” Ralak catches himself, bringing his words to a halt.

“Their diet…?” Your bottom lip trembles.

Ralak just shakes his head, taking your other hand with his. “The treaty will soon end. I must go. Tonight.”

“What?!” You shout, wrenching your hands from his grasp to quickly stand up. A shooting pain sears up the side of your stomach, and your hand flies to clutch it. Ralak rushes to steady you.

“Careful, y/n.” He snaps, high strung and tense. “I will be back in a few eclipses.”

“What? No! No, no. It’s too dangerous.” You protest, gripping his wrists to stay standing.

“It is the olo’eyktan’s orders. I must.” He’s quick to respond to you.

This quietens you. Does Tonowari not know that you’re due any day? Or perhaps he doesn’t care. How could he rip your mate away from you at this time? Especially for something so…risky. You feel your fear bubble into something more hot.

Anger.

“Then I’m coming.” You announce, dropping your hands from his wrists to waddle over to your gear once more. Ralak stands in front of you, hands on your stomach to stop you.

“No. You're staying here.” Ralak orders sternly, backing you up to sit back on the bed.

“No. I’m coming. I’m safer with you.” You resist his pushes, trying to stand firm.

“You are heavy with child.” He grits his teeth, giving you another light push, “I cannot protect you there. You—agh—you are safer here.”

Ralak makes the confession, feeling like he’s failing at his duty as your mate. He shouldn’t even be leaving you, not when you're this far along. He should be by your side, tending to your every need.

“What? By myself? What if—what if something happens? What if the baby—” You’re cut short by the sound of Zu’té’s not-so-reserved entrance. He yanks the marui flap to the side, ducking under it and standing tall behind Ralak, by just a couple inches. He, too, is fully equipped with his gear and weapons.

“Brother. I can hear the war party.” Zu’té speaks with haste, keeping his eyes locked onto Ralak.

'Brother?' Your eyes snap back to Ralak, beady and full of tears. “You didn’t.”

It quickly dawns on you that Ralak had planned this out. Made these arrangements in anticipation things went south and he had no say in the matter. To ensure your safety, and the safety of your unborn by going to the greatest length of rekindling a flame that had been extinct for twelve years. Ralak has spoken casually of his brother before, but never in any great detail.

“Y/n. This is Zu’té, my brother. He will keep you safe.” Ralak speaks with shame in his voice, knowing this must be way too overwhelming for you. He hadn’t planned for it to go like this.

Zu’té finally allows his eyes to wander over to you. They widen when they get their first proper look of you, darting all over your body to take in your foreign features.

He caught a glimpse when your family first arrived in Awa’atlu, but never this close. His eyes land on your bulging stomach, lingering a second too long to make even himself a bit uncomfortable. He clears his throat and looks back at Ralak.

You look at Zu’té with anger in your eyes, and then back at Ralak as they begin to swell with hot tears. Zu’té tries to make himself smaller, feeling the thickness of the air now. He backs up into the marui flap, tempted to lift it and walk himself outside to relieve some of the pressure.

“How long did you say this would be f-for? What if I go into labour? Will you really allow another man to deliver our son?”

Zu’té quickly but silently excuses himself from the room, taking a spot on the patio with his arms crossed over his chest, pinching the bridge of his nose. ‘Oh, Toto. What have you gotten yourself into?’

Angry, you shot the words like an arrow and they pierced your mate’s chest with ease. He grimaces, as if he were actually in pain.

“I-I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I—” You sob the apology, burying your hot face into your hands.

Ralak embraces you, wrapping his large arms around your body, hugging you close and tight. He sways a little with you, humming deep in his chest. “‘ts alright. You’re okay. Take a breath. I know this is frightening.”

He understands—it is not uncommon for a navi pair to remain close during the final weeks of pregnancy. It’s an unconscious mechanism, keeping them together for the birth of their offspring. Ralak feels it just as much as you but in order to truly protect you he must go— another thing that he understands.

“You c-come back to me, o-okay?” Your breath won’t stop hitching. “Come as s-soon as y-you can.”

“I will, I will. ” He coos, pulling back enough to look down at you. “Mawey, tanhì. Strong heart. For our baby.”

You nod, lifting your head to look up at him. He sees the terror in your eyes and his heart breaks with guilt. He gently presses his forehead against yours, slowly stroking your back.

“Nga yawne lu oer, nga yawne lu oer. [I love you, I love you]” He whispers longingly as he closes the distance between your mouths.

“Nga yawne lu oer [I love you]. S-So much.” You sputter, lips trembling against his.

He kisses you with force, pressing his lips into yours until it almost hurts. You both linger there, not wanting to part ways. But you feel him pulling away, knowing there wasn’t much time left. Instinctively, cling onto him when his lips leave yours.

“Please don’t go.” You mumble into his chest, knowing that he has no choice.

“I have to, my tanhì.” He mutters as he begins to pull away before letting go completely.

You follow behind him, thumb in your mouth as you nibble at the skin, hand resting on top of your bump. You watch him call for his tsurak for a second time tonight, and look back at you for a moment. He takes in the sight of you standing next to his older brother, trying to find comfort in knowing that you’re in safe hands. Ralak gives him a nod and mounts the beast, taking off towards the war party.

Leaving you in the presence of Zu’té.

“Y/n, is it?” Zu’té asks, already knowing the answer.

It’s awkward and he doesn’t do well in these types of situations. He knows comfort is what you need right now, considering you’re now sobbing into your hands again. You’re worried sick. Literally. It’s all making you feel woozy and lightheaded.

“Listen...” He goes to rest a hand on your upper back, but he hesitates, leaving his hand to hover. He retracts it completely, allowing it to fall back to his side. He sighs, droopy ears and tensed brows. “He will return soon.”

Among all the emotions that cloud you at once, anger still remains roaring at the forefront. You find yourself turning your heel and ignoring his presence, waddling away as fast as your swollen feet will allow it.

“Leave m-me be.” You spit between hitched breaths, ensuring the flap of the marui door shuts harshly behind you.

Despite feeling sympathy for you, Zu’té stands outside, finding solace in being alone. He chooses the driest spot, and sets himself up on the patio, getting ready for the stormy night ahead.

You waddle in to bed, wrapping yourself in the thick shawl that smells like your mate, and lay next to the prrsmung [baby carrier] you still have yet to finish. Feeling defeated and empty, you lay on your side in bed as you process everything, letting silent tears crash onto your bed.

——

You’re not entirely sure at what point in the night that you drifted to sleep, but you wake up in a groggy state. Dried tears make it hard to open your eyes, and your hair sticks to your face. You look around in a daze and realise that it’s still dark outside.

The pang in your bladder keeps you awake and forces you out of bed, making you wobble to the curtain. You pull it back and are met with the sight of Zu’té sleeping propped up against the marui wall with his spear tucked to his chest.

Seeing him painfully reminds you of the heart wrenching events of last night. That even though you were hoping and praying to Eywa for it all to be a bad dream—it was all very real.

An icy cold breeze gusts by, making you shiver under your shawl and Zu’té shift in his sleep. The rain had eased off into a light, continuous drizzle some time during the night.

Your ears droop with guilt for leaving him out here in the cold, damp night. You let out a sigh and grip the railing to the marui stairs, turning your body sideways to take your first step down. The wood squeaks when it takes your weight, Ralaks usual tell tale sign that you’re sneaking out at night without his help.

It seems to work for Zu’té too because by the time you reach the second step you hear a raspy voice.

“I was told you need help with these.” Zu’té offers his hand. You let out a sigh and take his arm.

You’ll admit, his helping hand is actually helping, especially now that you’re so far along.

“Irayo [thank you].” You mutter, holding on tightly as you make your way to the bottom step. Zu’té leans against the railing, waiting for you to finish your business.

You don’t take long, most trips recently have been false alarms—just the baby pushing on your bladder because he’s so low down. As you make your way back to the stairs, your lower back begins to warm up. It radiates to your upper and inner thighs, making them ache as you walk.

It’s nothing new, aches and pains are becoming more frequent as the days pass, and the cold certainly isn’t helping. Zu’té meets you at the bottom step with an extended elbow, and you take his arm without a second thought.

It starts to rain again, hard. The temperature easily falls by a few degrees and all you want is to be inside the warmth of your bed right now. Your feet move at a quicker pace and as much as Zu’té tries to be gentle as he can, his grip tightens.

“Take your time.” He says, keeping you steady as you reach the top step.

Once you get to the door, he immediately lets go of you, stepping aside to take his spot on the patio for the remainder of the night. You pull back the marui flap but find yourself hesitating to step inside. You look over your shoulder, watching Zu’té tuck his spear close to his chest and prop himself against the wall.

“Zu’té.” You say. He looks at you, brows raised as he listens. “It’s cold out here. You should come—”

“Don’t worry about me.” He cuts you short, closing his eyes.

“I’m not.” Your words are quick and almost defensive.

Zu’té chuckles a bit, if you could even call it that. “Sounds like you are.”

You sigh, getting a little irritated. “Whatever.”

“I’ll be alright out here.” He says nonchalantly, opening his eyes to look directly at you. Your heart skips a beat and you feel the blood drain from your face. You thought Ralak was intimidating, but this guy is something else.

“Sure.” It’s awkward, but a good awkward…if that were a thing. “Night.”

“Wake me if you need me. No more sneaky shit.” He’s muttering now, ready to go back to sleep. “And get some rest.”

You hold back your laugh, a little amused by the stark difference in his personality and Ralaks. How are they brothers? Or related, even?

“Will do, sir.” You match his sarcastic tone, entering the marui and laying down in bed, hoping to Eywa that sleep will find you soon.

——

Village life continues despite Ralak and the others' absence. You wake up earlier than usual, despite the exhausting circumstances. Your baby moves, letting you know he’s awake too.

“Daddy will be home soon.” You reassure your babe, gently rubbing your stomach.

Perhaps you were also reassuring yourself.

You feel empty, and numb. And as much as you want to lay in bed all day and wait for your mates return, you still have a few things left to do before your son’s arrival.

First thing being, getting some food in your system.

You get ready, and walk outside, noticing that Zu’té is no longer in his spot.

He wakes early.

Looking out into the distance, you catch sight of Zu’té crouching next to a small flame, cooking what seems to be squid. It’s hard to be sure of what it is—the sun hasn’t fully bloomed, and though the rain has stopped it’s still a bit gloomy. You make your way over to him, taking extra care when going down the stairs.

“Morning.” You say nonchalantly.

Zu’té’s ears spring up and he looks behind him—behind you—directly at the stairs. His brows lower and he sighs quickly, knowing there’s no point in making the comment. He looks back at his task, turning the slightly charred squid impaled by a sharpened branch.

“You’re up early.” The giant states, back turned to you to reveal his insanely intricate tattoo.

“Same to you.” You respond, staring at his back hard enough to burn holes into it. You see some scarring and thickened skin, presumably from his days as a warrior. That much you knew because of Ralak.

“Squid. Help yourself.” Zu’té says, handing you a stick of burnt squid.

Taking it from him, you hold it in front of your face, a little baffled at how he seemingly saw nothing wrong with it.

“Hm…thanks. Looks…well done.” You try to force a smile, to no avail.

You try to take a seat next to him, struggling to keep your balance as you lower yourself to your knees. His ears lay flat and he instinctively springs to his feet, helping you sit down. He didn’t think you’d join him here.

It’s silent. Uncomfortably silent. And awkward. You keep your extremities close and your tail closer, curled up in on yourself to remain as small as you can. Although, in comparison to your mate's brother, you were tiny.

He’s not taller by much, but still taller nonetheless. It really makes you wonder how their parents looked for them to turn out this way.

Zu’té eats hastily, shovelling the squid in his mouth as if it had the ability to slither away. It makes you look back at your own serving and suddenly your nerves go haywire. You didn’t want to risk getting sick, your bedside bucket is too far away to fetch. But you didn’t want to be rude—he’d obviously woken up early to make this for you.

You take an experimental bite and fight for your life to keep a straight face. You exaggerate a nod and cover your mouth with your hand, hiding the way you're smacking away at this blubbery piece of meat.

“Mm. Mhm.” You grunt, forcing it down and clearing your throat. “It’s—uhm, it’s not—”

“I am no ‘emyu [cooker].” He says, chucking his cleared stick into the fire.

“Ahem—yeah. Yup.” You twirl the stick between your pointer finger and thumb, bringing his attention to your five fingered hand. His eyes widen a bit before quickly looking away, and you tuck them back in between your thighs.

“Thanks for breakfast.”

“Sleep well?”

You both speak at the same time, unintentionally clearing the tension in the air.

“I suppose, all things considered.” You try to speak lightheartedly. “And you? Did any part of you freeze?”

Zu’té laughs and shakes his head. “No, not quite.”

“Well, that’s good.” You say, looking out at sea to witness the sun's emergence. It casts an orange hue over the water, illuminating the ripples of the oncoming waves.

He’s watching it too.

“Your tattoo.” You speak softly, witnessing his ears flutter. “…on your back.”

“Ah. What of it?”

“What does it mean? I mean—” You stutter, still adapting to the idea of inking being a symbolic statement. “What’s the story behind that?”

The story replays in his head—the death of the spirit brothers and family. It flashes before him, as if he were in that moment again. The guilt and pain inside him is eternal, something that’s never left him since. He’s never spoken of it, not even to the person he hurt the most through it all—Ralak.

His ears pin back and his jaw tightens. He shrugs his shoulders and mutters, “Felt like it.”

“So…you’re telling me you did that, for fun?” The surprise is evident in your voice as you look at the tattoo again. His skin is raised and it spans the entirety of his upper back. “That must have been really painful. Ralak did mine and it took days.”

“Didn’t hurt.” Zu’té says, turning his body to you yet keeping his eyes on the sun. But it did. It hurt—a lot. Self inflicted pain, to symbolise the pain he inflicted on others, even if it weren’t his intention.

Maybe they are brothers. You think.

“You going to eat that?” He asks, interrupting your train of thought, pointing at your squid on a stick.

“Uhh—I’m going to pass.” You answer, offering it to him, “…sorry.”

“Again. Not a ‘emyu [cooker]” He takes it gladly, biting off a decent chunk and chewing at it unbothered with a deadpan expression.

Nevermind.

Now the silence isn’t as awkward. You choose to sit here a while longer, enjoying this moment as much as you can before coming back to reality. The reality that there may be a war brewing. That—

Ralak isn’t here.

Well, that didn’t last long.

Sadness washes over you, making your ears droop and your tail heavy. Your baby gives you a sudden, hard kick in the ribs, as if he were telling his mummy to cheer up. You uncross your legs and shift your weight to the one side, getting ready to get up and be productive.

Zu’té seems to take note of that.

“Need to get up?” He asks, chucking yet another stick into the fire.

“I got it.” You grunt, shuffling to your knees.

Zu’té lets out a displeased grumble, understanding what his brother meant when he said you have a stubborn streak. He goes to help you anyways, supporting you by the elbow.

You’re just about standing when you feel a sharp stabbing pain in your back. It makes you jolt and grab onto Zu’té, whose slight irritation instantly turns into concern.

“Y/n.”

“I’m good, I’m good.” You repeat out of breath, steadying yourself before letting go. He seemed unsure if you really were okay. “Really. Happens all the time now.”

Zu’té nods, letting go and giving you a little more space. “Alright.”

——

The meeting spot is no other than the ‘head quarters’ of the ash people. It is only on this occasion that another clan may step foot on their land and walk away with a beating heart. That is, if all goes well. Tonowari is confident, however, knowing that the resource they provide the ash people is sufficient enough to prolong the treaty for many decades to come.

It is an ore that forms deep underwater, and can only be extracted by the most skilled divers. Divers that can hold their breath for up to half an hour. The use of this ore remains unknown to the reef people, but the ash people are quick to seize it almost instantaneously at the drop off point. The ore is plentiful among the reef, renewing itself as it is harvested—the act of the great mother restoring balance as needed.

Truth be told, although the reef people are a peaceful people, it is no secret that they hold some of the strongest warriors on Pandora. They are proud of their home, and will fight to protect it at all costs. Even the ash people know this. Which is the reason for their agreement on something as laughable as a ‘peace’ treaty.

Otherwise, what’s really to stop them from annihilating the reef people and taking the ore themselves?

Ralak meets with the others—Tonowari, Jake, Neytiri, and Ronal. They all set off far inland to the place the two clans met ten years ago. The trek is long and tiresome, leaving Ronal winded and in need of a couple breaks along the way. She is, too, heavy with child, but as tsahìk, she perseveres. Tonowari had tried to convince her several times to stay home, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“We are here.” Tonowari announces as the group nears the settlement of their natural enemy. It’s a rocky environment, much like the reef but with plenty of soil and clay. “Heads straight. Ignore them.”

——

Zu’té stays nearby the marui as he tends to some of Ralak’s duties, keeping an eye on you from afar. You sit comfortably on the bottom step of the marui stairs, concentrating on finishing your baby’s sling. Your fingers are a little swollen, making it more difficult to weave. Frustrated, you plop the sling to your side and bury your face into your hands.

Everything is just too overwhelming right now.

“Your technique is poor.” Zu’té’s voice booms over you.

You look up, seeing this tall man with his hands on his hips tower over you, shading you from the sun. “Excuse me? I’ll have you know that I have plenty of knowledge on—”

“This is a prrsmung [baby carrier], yes?” Zu’té picks up the sling and sits himself next to you, searching for the point in which you left off.

You watch intently, intrigued to know his next move. He carefully unravels all the wefts you’ve managed to do since sitting on this damned step.

“What are you doing? Stop!”

Zu’té sighs and demonstrates a weaving technique you’ve never seen before, entwining and knitting the fabric until it comes together in an even neater fashion. You look at him in awe, dumbstruck that he was able to do that. Ralak dislikes weaving, in fact, he loathes it.

“Try it.” He says, plucking the fabric away from itself to unravel it once more before handing it back to you. You hesitate to take it, caught off guard from his unexpected, skilled movements.

“My fingers are swollen.” You say, feeling defeated and a little embarrassed. He looks down, noticing your five-fingered hand again, not nearly surprised as last time.

“Not as big as mine.” He tries to hand you the sling again. “You got it.”

Reluctantly, you take the sling and slowly mirror his movements, replicating the technique perfectly.

“See?” Zu’té sounds pleased with himself. Looking down at the sling, it dawns on you.

“So, you’re a weaver?” You ask the question as if you had just struck gold. “Usually the women take on that role.”

“Not here, forest girl.” Zu’té defends his role proudly, “But yes, I am.”

“Nice. It is good to see that. My grandmother is a great weaver, she taught me all I know.” You begin.

For as long as your body would allow it, you and Zu’té sat on that step and wove together. You wove the sling and he went to fetch his satchel to work on a piece of his own. Though you did most of the talking, and found yourself dodging one too many snarky remarks, a bond formed on that step.

You told him about your past at hometree, your reason for seeking uturu to begin with.

The sky people.

The words wouldn’t stop flowing, especially when you got onto the topic of how you met his brother. You explained that Ralak was your karyu [teacher] and how that quickly morphed into something much more beautiful. How you broke past his walls—took off his mask of indifference.

But then that awkward silence came again. The silence that reminded you why this stranger was in your home to begin with. That he was playing watchdog because your mate had to leave your side whilst being heavily pregnant.

“I lied.” Zu’té fills the silence. It has your ears perked up and your full attention on him. Your heart picked up speed, almost expecting something bad. “About?”

“That tattoo hurt like a kalweyaveng [son of a bitch].”

His confession has you bellowing out in laughter, clutching your stomach to keep you from shaking up your baby.

“I knew it.” You finally say once you calm down from a much needed laugh. “No good comes from trying to pretend that things don’t hurt, you know.”

Little did you know these words weighed heavy on him. Heavier than you meant for them to. He falls silent, contemplating if he should say what he’s about to. The real confession. The real reason behind the tattoo.

“I killed our spirit brothers.” He blurts out, astonished by his own voice.

Did I really just say that? Shit.

“What?” You exhale, your heart now galloping in your chest.

“It was twelve years ago. I was…seventeen. Sent out to war. I had to keep Ralak out of it. I went alone…lead a group of warriors to protect the tulkun.” His voice seizes up, as if his throat were closing. He looks away, fixing his gaze to his feet. “I was still learning. I didn’t know. I didn’t know. The sky people…they slaughtered them all.”

“Hey, hey. That’s not your fault, Zu’té. You didn’t kill them. The sky people did.” You rest your hand on his back, feeling how raised and toughened the skin where his inking lay deep.

Zu’té just looks at you, eyes trembling with vulnerability. It’s the first someone outside of the family has ever told him that. It’s something that he needed to hear.

“Is that why you fled? Ralak told me you left him.”

Zu’té nods, looking away in shame once more. “I abandoned him.”

You shake your head, knowing now that Ralak has healed and no longer feels this way. “He has healed Zu’té. And now it is your turn.”

Zu’té only nods, allowing the silence to fill the space again. This time it’s needed.

Until it's broken by a familiar voice.

“Sister.” Neteyam greets you at the bottom step, throwing a smile your way, then to your stomach. “Little one.”

He’s checking on you per your fathers request. Of course he wanted to ensure you were okay, too.

“Tey.” You smile big, happy to see such a familiar, comforting face. “I thought you went.”

You reach out for the railing to pull yourself up, and both Neteyam and Zu’té go to help you get up. You side-hug Neteyam, finding comfort in your brother. It’s been a hectic night.

“No, someone’s got to watch Tuk…and you.” Neteyam chuckles. As you let go, your glances at Ralak’s brother. “Neteyam, this is Ralak’s brother. Zu’té.” You introduce the two properly.

Taught manners from a young age, Neteyam gestures ‘I see you’ to the former warrior, and he returns the sign.

“Uncle TeyTey’s got you guys for the day.” Neteyam coos at your tummy, and then offers you his arm.

“Right...Dads orders?” You ask, happy to go with him.

“Dads orders.” Neteyam nods firmly, looking at Zu’té to relay the message. Zu’té returns the nod, being present to hear your fathers concerns about the entire arrangement. Besides, it’ll give him time to hunt for something proper for dinner.

“C’mon guys!” Lo’ak shouts from the ocean, mounted on his skimwing with Tuk behind him.

“See you. Think about what I said.” You say to Zu’té, prompting him to wave goodbye. Neteyam walks you to his tsurak, helping you to get on. You had retired your tsurak for the time being, finding it hard to ride with your back pain.

“Hey Lo’. Tuk-Tuk.” You say with relief in your voice, finding comfort in the company of your family.

——

The ash people are impudent to say the least. They follow behind the five na’vi weaving their way through the growing crowd, right on their tails as they try to get a better look at them. They are particularly interested in Jake and Neytiri, seeing the forest people for the first time. But most haven’t even gotten a look at the reef people yet, despite having the agreement with them for so many decades already.

Some even dare to poke and prod, tugging at their tails and their hair to get a feel or whiff of their scents. Tonowari, Jake, Neytiri and Ralak walk in a formation that allows Ronal to be in the centre, safe guarded from any pointed fingernails or astray noses. Ralak is on edge, but one could never tell by a glance. His appearance is intimidating, a stature so tall he and Tonowari tower over the crowd.

“I do the talking.” Tonowari says discreetly as they near the entrance of the hut.

The room is made of some sort of red clay substance, seemingly burnt to a char until it has been hardened into what feels like rock. This one in particular is large, containing smaller sectioned off rooms, partitioned with thick leather curtains. It's all very bleak, rid of liveliness and colour.

As they enter the hut, two bigger ash na’vi guard the door on either side, blocking and guarding the entrance behind them. Two more ash na’vi lead the group with spears to their backs to a large curtain, and shove them towards it with a few harsh jabs to Jake’s and Ralak’s spines. Jake snaps around, throwing them a dirty look. Whilst Ralak keeps his gaze fixed to his feet. He feels deep in his gut that something isn’t right.

Whether it be here, or back home.

With each step he takes, the sense of impending doom only worsens. He has no desire to be here but he recognizes that this is what is necessary. Yet, he can’t help the way he feels. And when he finally raises his head all the pieces link together. It all makes sense.

Before them are five na’vi in total. Two women and three men. Four ash na’vi and one…reef na’vi. A female, reef na’vi. Her face is unmistakable—unforgettable. It’s been seared into his mind since he was a young boy.

And when Ralak sees it, he almost caves in on himself. His mask of indifference—of intimidation, cracks. Hell, it shatters. Into thousands of pieces, scattered at his feet. Tonowari’s previous right hand. The banished.

His karyu.

617 notes · View notes

whateverloomis · 4 months ago

Text

"Scream" (1996) meets "X" || Billy Loomis x Stu Macher x GN!AFAB reader 🔪🔞

PART 2

A/N: I got this idea while re-watching "X" last week and I couldn't help but imagine the Scream (1996) characters combined with the movie. I had also been thinking what it would be like for Billy to fuck with Tatum so... Muahaha, here it is hoes. There will definitely be a part 2 for this because it would've been hella long if I had posted all of it. Plus, I like to do cliffhangers ;) Enjoy babes <33

Warnings: Voyeurism, mentions of cheating, making out, p in v, AFAB reader (no use of pronouns,) implied size difference, threatening, lots of teasing, poly!Ghostface, reader has pre-determined interests and outfits, Sidney is not in the story (sorry not sorry,) || Not edited

Word count: 2.8k

•

"Sidney doesn't know about it and she doesn't have to, simple," Billy told you while you picked some snacks from the gas station. "Besides, you're what's important here. You're the star," Stu continued, grabbing the items from your hands and walking towards the register to pay for everything.

"I mean, it's not like I care bu-" - "Then stop acting like you do," Billy interrupted and hugged you from behind, his hands squeezing your waist. You bit your bottom lip and smiled, feeling him nip at your neck softly. "Plus, after I fuck you in front of that camera you won't even remember your own name," he whispered in your ear and you craned your neck to kiss him, tongue brushing his bottom lip immediately.

"Ah ah ah, save it for the camera, kids," Stu said while walking towards you. He grabbed your face and kissed your cheek before walking out of the mini market. "Let's go babes, we have a long drive ahead of us!"

•

The car ride was chaotic. Stu and Tatum were making out and moaning in the back of the van while Billy sat across from them, occasionally closing his eyes to drown out the sound of the squeaky back door and his horny friends.

You were completely zoned out, looking outside at the corn field that seemed endless. You couldn't believe you were finally going to film a movie and become a star. Stu promised as much, and all his words of praise and promise excited you more every single time.

Randy was driving while singing along to a tune you didn't recognize and arguing with Tatum from time to time about how she should have some dignity and not suck her boyfriend's face in front of everyone.

He had always wanted his first film to be an artistic porno movie. It was going to be revolutionary, he said. Shown in every theater and be the number one best porn film with an actual good plot. It was everyone's big break.

Billy was in it for the money, not the fame. He didn't care if his face was recognized by any means, but if he got to fuck you and get paid for it?, he wasn't going to say no, and he didn't. You guys have been sneaking around for a while anyways, it was a matter of time before Sidney found out, so he didn't care. Not only that, but Billy supported you. He knew you had potential. He saw it, and this film? This movie was sure to raise you to fame. With those sweet moans of yours and gorgeous body. Those pretty little faces you make when he fucks you stupid. You were it.

"The fuck are you looking at?" Tatum bitched at Billy. He didn't answer her, instead he just kept staring at her, heavy eyes threatening to close once again. He smirked in amusement, Billy got a kick of bothering Tatum while doing the bare minimum.

"Fuck are you bitching at? I'm not looking at anything," he replied, rolling his eyes.

"You were looking at my tits," the blonde answered with an attitude and Billy let out a breathy laugh. "It's not my fault Stu has them out on full display for everyone to look at," he said and Stu laughed along with his friend.

Tatum rolled her eyes and adjusted her dress up her chest. "Awhh, c'mon babe don't be like that-" - "Shut up! I can't believe you want me to fuck him," the girl said and you giggled, looking back at her; "You won't regret it, trust me," you said and Stu stuck his tongue out; "Thaaat's the spirit, see Tate?" - "Ugh, I'm taking a nap," she said before laying down on the carpeted floor, legs over Stu's lap.

•

After nearly a 6 hour drive you finally arrived at the old ranch where you guys were going to be staying at for a few days.

As you and the group were unloading your belongings from the van, Stu walked up to the house to talk to the owner and announce your arrival.

"I told you we were coming in today pops, relax," you overheard Stu say, nervousness lacing his voice. You looked at Billy to see if he caught on to the situation and saw he was already pulling his gun out from the back of his jeans. You gasped and ran towards him, placing your hand over his to stop him from pulling the weapon all the way out.

"Don't," you whispered and gave him a worried look. He poked the inside of his left cheek with his tongue in annoyance before sliding the gun back down inside his pants and you visibly relaxed.

"You didn't tell me there were gonna be so many people!," the old man said and Stu laughed nervously; "I know I know but listen, I've got some extra," Stu paused his words and pulled out a $100 bill out of his front pocket. "There's more where that came from if y-" - "I don't need your money!," the old man interrupted and pointed a shutgun at Stu's chest. Billy reached for his weapon once again, this time not hesitating; "You better back off or el-" - "Or else what?! You kids are getting yourselves kicked out of my property if you keep-" - "LET'S, all... Calm down, yeah?," Stu said, signaling Billy to put his weapon away and smiling nervously at the old man. "Look, we need this, okay? We drove all the way over here so give us one night at least?," he reasoned, and the owner glared at everyone. "One. Then you're out of here," the old man agreed and walked past Stu, making his way down to the small wooden house all the way across the field.

You closed your eyes and sighed, giving Billy a side eye before picking up your bags and following the owner with the rest of the group.

The small wooden cabin was perfect to accommodate everyone, and had a view of the lake that was not far from it. You sat on the couch in the small living room area with Randy and Tatum. Billy and Stu stayed behind talking to the old man but you couldn't make out a single word.

"That old fuck is gonna kill us, we shouldn't stay here." Randy said, fear lacing his words.

"Randy, you know Stu is not leaving until we film this." Tatum said, defeat and annoyance written on her face. "How the hell are we filming this in one day? That's impossibl-" - "Look, I'm sure Billy and Stu are coming to terms with the owner okay? Relax." You interrupted, but you were talking to yourself more than him.

Billy had little patience for people like the owner of the farm and he was definitely going to pull that trigger without hesitation.

You were nervous. You knew he had fired that weapon before. Billy didn't like to talk about it, but you knew what he was capable of.

"Alright! We negotiated and pops played nice. We're staying the whole week like we originally planned!" Stu announced and everyone cheered except for you and Billy. You had a feeling it wasn't so easy to get the old man to give in so quickly after his aggressive behavior.

"Did you threaten him?" You asked. You guys were getting settled in your room and the quietness of Billy was putting you off.

"Threaten who?" Billy asked, turning around from his position in front of the window. He had been keeping an eye on the owners house for God knows how long.

"The owner. Why'd he change his mind all of a sudden?" You continued and Billy looked at you seriously a few seconds before leaning against the edge of the window and smiling softly.

"Don't worry about that old rag, we just negotiated, that's all." Billy replied and you sighed softly. "Hey, c'mon now. Everything's fine. Nothing's gonna happen to you, okay? Not while I'm here." He continued and sat next to you on the bed. You looked at him in doubt and he gave you those puppy dog eyes that drove you crazy. "C'mere" he said while patting his lap. You crawled over the bed and straddled him, the boy placing his hands on your hips instantly. "This is your moment. Your big break, I'm not gonna let that old fuck ruin it for you." He said and kissed you softly. His lips molding against yours perfectly. You relaxed against him and placed your forehead against his. "I trust you." You whispered and Billy kissed you again, this time prolonging it. You moaned softly against his lips and felt him grow hard under you. On instinct, you started to grind against his clothed cock and pull his hair, making him groan.

You gently pushed his chest to lay down on the bed. The kiss getting more heated by the second.

Billy started to run his hands under your tank top and pulled it up, exposing your tits before stopping at the sound of the door opening.

"I knew I heard freaky noises." Stu said, leaning against the door frame.

Billy sat up and placed you on the bed next to him before turning around and glaring at his friend. "Fuck off, will you? Not now." - "Awhh c'mon! Tatum just went to bed."

You couldn't help but chuckle at Stu's clear intentions. Ever since you let him join you and Billy during sex once he's been trying to get another chance, but never succeeded since then.

You grinned at both boys and walked over to Stu. You got up on your tippy toes and placed a single, slow kiss on his lips before running your hand down his chest. "You heard the man, not now." You whispered and Stu sighed in defeat. "Fuck, fine... God, you're so hot." He said and Billy smirked at the sight. He couldn't help but find it incredibly hot when you used that sexy manipulative attitude on others.

Stu walked away and you closed the door quietly, before locking it and turning around to face Billy; "Where were we?"

The bright sun woke you up. The sky was almost crystal clear and a beautiful pale blue. Billy was already up since Stu wanted to start filming early, and you definitely didn't want to miss it, so you got out of bed and brushed your teeth, overall freshening up to go into the next room and see if you were lucky to catch them before the camera was rolling.

You didn't bother to change your clothes or cover up. You were comfortable enough to walk around in your black thong and thin white crop top that exposed your pebbled nipples in a rather subtle, nearly classy way.

When you approached the room next door and opened it they hadn't started the filming process and you bit your lip in excitement. You really wanted to see what Billy had in store, plus Tatum is hot as fuck and you knew they'd look incredible together.

"Just in time babe, we're about to start." Stu said and Randy looked at you with a rather unamused face. He wasn't exactly too into the whole idea considering he was filming Billy cheating on his forever crush, Sidney, but he was promised thousands just by standing there with a mic so he wasn't going to say no. Plus, maybe he could get some action himself and finally lose his virginity. Randy took the bait anyways.

"Do we really have to do this?" Tatum asked Stu, rolling her eyes. She was sitting on Billy's lap facing him, wearing a short sundress without panties on. Billy had his legs bent up slightly, cupping her ass and providing steadiness while he took a puff of the joint they had all been sharing.

"Babe c'mon! It'll be quick, trust me!" Stu said, camera in hand.

"The fuck are you saying? That I won't last long like your sorry ass?" Billy said, annoyed at Stu's implication.

"With that pussy? You won't last three seco-" - "I'm literally right here, asshole!" Tatum said and threw a pillow at her boyfriend. Stu laughed and threw the pillow to the side.

"C'mon, don't be pussies and get it over with!" He said and Tatum sighed. "Okay, whatever." The girl rolled her eyes before grabbing the blunt from Billy's hands and taking a drag. She exhaled slowly and started to rub Billy over his jeans. He looked at her hands working on him and couldn't help but grow hard at the sensation.

Tatum unbuttoned his jeans just enough for his cock to spring free and she lifted her dress up slightly, rubbing her cunt over his length to lubricate both of them with her slick.

Billy's breathing picked up at her movements. Even if he didn't want to do this he couldn't deny that she felt good against him.

Grabbing her hips, he positioned her right over the tip of his cock and she sat on his length slowly, swallowing every inch inside her tight pussy. Billy released a hiss at the feeling of her cunt wrapping around him. Stu was right, he wasn't going to last long with how wet and snug her little pussy was.

"Now ride him and do your best show for me baby" Stu whispered and she started to move.

Jumping up and down on Billy's cock she moaned pornographically. "Yes! Fuck yes! Pleaseeee" She said and Billy held her hips tighter, releasing inevitable grunts. He couldn't lie to himself, her tits bouncing right in front of his face looked way too good for him to deny it.

"Fuck" He whispered and started to thrust up, practically using Tatum in order to get off quickly. The blonde moaned loudly, this time it was legit. Billy's cock felt good as he fucked her from below and she could feel him growing bigger inside her, signaling he was going to cum any second.

They both couldn't help but moan in unison. Sex is sex, and it didn't matter to them at that point, they were only focusing on the pleasure.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum..." Billy said softly and Tatum continued her show for the camera, however she also wanted to rile Billy up just a bit before finishing. She was having fun. "Ahh yes, cum inside me pleaseee" Tatum practically screamed and that did it for him. Billy exploded inside of Tatum and rode his high quickly before pulling out and throwing his head back on the pillow.

Tatum collapsed next to him, cum dripping out of her puffy pussy. Stu pointed the camera between her legs to get a good shot at Billy's seed spilling out of her before stopping.

"Man, that was kinda hot." - "Shut up asshole." Billy said rolling his eyes before taking another drag from the blunt that was on the ashtray next to the bed.

"Oh my Gosh you guys looked so good." You said while looking at the footage in Stu's camera. You could feel yourself growing wet at the sight of Billy and Tatum fucking.

You took a glance at Billy and he was smirking at you. He couldn't wait to get his hands on you next inside the barn and fuck you raw until you came around his thick cock.

You noticed Randy shifting rather uncomfortably and laughed softly. He was hard and having problems hiding it.

"You good, Randy? Looks like you enjoyed the show." You said teasingly and he blushed, excusing himself.

Stu stuck his tongue out and chuckled at his friend getting hard because of the scene that was filmed. "This is gonna be so revolutionary guys, I can already taste the millions."

Before getting ready for dinner and discussing your big scene with Billy, you decided to go for a swim in the lake.

The sunset was approaching and the rays of light were glistening over the water. The wind created little ripples that made it look deliciously refreshing.

You decided to skinny dip since the area was alone, but you didn't really care if anyone saw you.

As you were taking your panties off, you noticed the string of slick that connected the fabric to your cunt. You moaned as you felt the cool air brush against your skin and couldn't help but run your fingers between your legs.

"Fuck..." you whispered to yourself, and trailed your hand up your body to spread your wetness over your pebbled nipples.

You thought about how your scene with Billy would be like. The rush of excitement ran over your body and you started to swing your hips while playing with your tits out in the open.

You chuckled to yourself and were spinning slowly until you were met with Billy's gaze. He was standing on the other edge of the small boardwalk, enjoying the view.

"Mind if I join you?" He said teasingly while walking towards you. You bit your lip and looked at his bulge shamelessly.

"Not at all." You answered and he placed his hands over your waist, squeezing the flesh. "You look so fucking good all alone out here. Naked. Vulnerable." Billy whispered and you couldn't help but release a little whimper.

"I'm gonna fuck you so good for the camera tomorrow."

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