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tiredmamaissy · 8 days

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Ralak te Sepawn ieyk’itan: Special Episode V

Something is Brewing

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)

Warnings: explicit pregnancy smut, pregnancy fluff, pregnancy angst [for the plot], pregnancy [this chapter is entirely about pregnancy if you haven't caught my drift, just giving you guys a proper warning], age gap, mood swings, cravings, nausea, vomiting, reader is very clumsy, intimate/invasive medical treatment, rut cycle, sexual tension, pregnant sex, p in v, titty fucking, cum eating (m and f), oral sex (m and f), masturbation, exhibitionism (kinda, not really), lactation kink

Word Count: 17.5k (this takes the cake, i apologize)

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: Hey guys! Thank you all for being so patient with me as usual. I had planned to post this chapter earlier, but with the help of @zestys-stuff, we made a last minute change to the chapter. This will definitely cause some changes in the next chapter, so I’m going to work on that right away. I won’t lie, I’m really nervous to publish this one. It's been a while and I’ve ventured into some new territory where I’ve introduced a couple of new themes and -drumroll- a new character. There are parts of this chapter that can possibly cause discomfort (technically, all of this could), so I urge you guys to proceed with caution and click off if you do feel uncomfortable in any way. Aside from that, it’s good to be back (again, lol) and I hope you enjoy!

Synopsis: A timeline of your pregnancy with Ralak’s child, shown through a series of flashbacks of your most prominent milestones—some of which foreshadow something bigger to come…

<- Previous -> Next

Pregnancy is tough.

A beautiful blessing, but tough nonetheless. With its own set of hardships, uniquely tailored to your own being. If it’s not one thing, it’s another. A sore back, chest, ankles…the list is seemingly endless. The shift in moods, the fatigue. Adjusting to an entire new being growing inside you—one that sucks the nutrients straight from your bones and blood—has your body overcompensating.

At first it was a dream.

No life-changing symptoms. It was smooth sailing for the first few weeks. Life went on as usual. If anything, others were more reactive to your pregnancy than you were. Your skimwing became aggressive towards Ralak, snapping at him and whipping her tail, treating him as a threat rather than a companion. He was more than understanding, as it’s common for the protective instinct to kick in when the tsurak senses their rider is with child.

More importantly, it was an urge that Ralak shared with the beast.

—

You watch as your tendrils intertwine with your skimwing, and how they come together with a rough tug. You let out a rugged breath and the beast beneath you starts to writhe. Ralak instinctively grasps at the harness to steady you and—

Slash.

Your trsuak whips her spiked tail at your mate, who blocks it with his strake.

“Shit.” You gasp, tugging at the leather strap and patting her neck to subdue her. “I thought I was in control. Are you alright?”

Ralak nods, his hair now soaked and plastered to his chest. He simply chuckles, respectfully and cautiously approaching the beast with an open hand. Despite this, your tsurak continues to thrash, repeatedly snapping her snout open and shut. Ralak clicks melodically a few times, and her pupils blow and constrict as she calms down. He strokes her snout with one hand, and lays his other on your thigh, gripping it lightly.

“She senses that you are with child.”

“She does?”

“Yes. That is why she protects you. I understand the feeling.” His accent is thick on his tongue.

——

Then the nausea came. It was… unbearable. Insufferable. It was almost frightful, actually. Not being able to stomach anything really brought down a sense of dread upon your shoulders. Most days, you found yourself worried about the budding life inside you more than yourself.

Was he getting enough? Would he develop properly if you went another day without eating?

Ralak was more worried about you, of course. Going to great lengths to find something you could stomach. Spoon feeding you as you laid down all day from the gut churning nausea. Washing the sick out of your hair when you missed the bucket at your bedside. Detangling and braiding it for you to keep it clean and out of your face. Releasing his pheromones—your only relief—just to put you to sleep at night.

—

t.w. nausea, vomiting.

In the crisp night, a wave of nausea washes over you, waking you from your sleep. Typically, this is the only time you have a break from the nausea—your slumber. That, and the first ten minutes after throwing up.

You quickly hurl over, grabbing and heaving into your bedside bucket, something that's rightfully earned its spot at your side. Ralak jolts awake, sitting up behind you to gather your hair into his fist, rubbing your back as you retch.

“Alrigght.” He hums lengthily. “Get it up.”

Finally, you stop. You gasp and pant for air, sitting up only to collapse back into him. “I h-hate this–haah.”

“I do, too.” He grits, reaching over you for the rag at your bedside, and wiping your mouth.

He hates seeing you so sick. He’s tried it all, and though he’s found a few foods that you can stomach, nothing seems stops the nausea. Well, that’s not entirely true.

Ralak relaxes his body, focusing on opening his scent glands to release his his pheromones. They slowly become stronger, calming you down and dulling the waves of nausea. He pulls you close to his warm body, reaching behind him for his kuru.

“Tsaheylu.” He whispers yearningly, making the bond slowly. He sets a steady breathing pattern, slipping his hand over your tiny bump to caress it. The sickening feeling eases up enough for you to drift back to sleep, Ralak along with you.

——

Thankfully, Eywa lifted you of your säspxin [sickness] when you were about to come upon your third month of pregnancy. Cravings increased ten-fold almost instantly. On the occasion where you couldn’t keep it down—when the desperation was too much—you’d volunteer Ralak to eat it for you so that you could satisfy the craving vicariously through him.

—

“Eywa, that’s so good. One more bite.”

“Tanhí. Enough now.” He grumbles, feeling overly stuffed and almost queasy.

You glance down at the purple hue of your connected kurus.

“Please...” Your eyes burn as they threaten to well with tears, and your bottom lip quivers, “…last one, promise.”

Ralak sighs, shoveling in another bite of boiled squid, chewing it slowly so you can savor the taste. You keep your eyes closed as he eats, tongue swirling in your mouth to swish your pooling saliva in your cheeks. And when he swallows, you swallow too, gulping down your spit.

“Thank you.” You say shyly as you open your eyes, feeling bad for making him overeat now that you can really feel his fullness.

It is my pleasure. Never feel bad. His accented voice tickles your brain. A smile spreads across your face, just as one does on his.

——

And when you could keep it down, they were delightful when satiated. Keyword being satiated. It posed an issue when they were what Ralak called, ‘forest food’, or on a more rare occasion—‘sky people food’. Those were the insatiable ones. The ones he couldn’t just whip up for you. The times he'd come to you with his ears laid flat to his skull, admitting his defeat. Those were the moments where you felt something stronger than just disappointment.

It left you gutted.

—

You can’t stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks. They’re hot and leave a sticky film on your skin, clumping your eyelashes together. It’s stupid. They’re stupid. Stupid tears, from a stupid cause. All because you want your grandmother’s stupid soup. Another thing the blessing of pregnancy has bestowed on you—big, intense feelings.

As you soak in your bath, Ralak cooks dinner and you just know that whatever is in the pot is something that will make your stomach churn. You bury your face in the palms of your hands, trying to keep your snotty sobs to a minimum. It’s ridiculous, sobbing over something like this. It’s shameful, even. How can you be so ungrateful when this man goes to such lengths to care for you?

“Tanhì!” You hear his rough voice echo from the pod.

You quickly wipe your face clean, and scramble for your loincloth and top, slipping them back onto your body. Finally, you fix your hair and force a smile to your face. As you get up to the marui, you’re met with the sight of Ralak stirring the soup pot over the firepit. Then the smell hits you. Typically the first thing to set off your nausea to begin with. It smells like—

Grandmother’s soup.

You stare at your mate wide eyed, taking a deep breath to savour it in your lungs. Outside of Ralak’s scent, nothing has smelled this good in months. And you swear you can already taste it on your tongue, the savoury flavour with the sweet aftertaste.

“I asked your mother. Hope that is okay.” Ralak speaks casually as he serves you a bowl.

As you let out a harsh breath, your eyes burn as the tears come back with a vengeance. You sniffle once, twice—thrice, whimpering quietly as they roll down your cheeks. Ralak looks up at you, concern and honestly a smidge of confusion fixed to his face. Putting the bowl down, he stands and comes over to you, enveloping you in his arms.

“I do not like to see you cry.” He hums, kissing the crown of your head. “Is it the smell? I will make you something different.”

“N-No, no. It’s… it smells great. I’m sorry. I—I” You sputter, burying your face into his chest.

“Then what is it, tìyawn [love]? What do you need?” Ralak cups your face and gently tilts your head upwards so he can look you in the eyes. “Tell me and it is yours.”

“Thank you.” You croak, feeling your bottom lip curl over and kiss your chin. Now his facial expression is just pure confusion. He tuts in a comforting manner, pulling you back in close to his chest as he waits for you to settle, rocking side to side.

“Alright, my little one. Shh–shh.”

——

Soon after, that soup pot made quite an appearance. It became your favourite dish, your favourite craving. Ralak made it just like grandmother, for the most part. There were a few omaticayan herbs missing, but outside of that it tasted like…home. At that point, you felt like you had this pregnancy thing down pat and could return to a semi-normal life.

Everything was relatively the same, except a few obvious things—your growing bump and lack of heats. That was also a blessing, not having to go through a torturous heat every month. Though, you couldn’t say that for Ralak.

As you neared the end of your third month of pregnancy, his pheromones grew stronger, wafting by you at random times of the day. At first you thought he was just doing it for you. Or, perhaps it was your heightened sense of smell.

But the day came when his scent was so potent, it was as if it had stained your lips. There wasn’t a moment where you couldn’t smell the scent of your mate under your nose. That was the night you realised it was out of his control. That it was his rut coming. That was the night you confronted him at the bonfire.

The night he looked at you like you were something to eat.

—

Right…there.

You catch the flicker of his eyes just before he lowers his head, shifting to that deep shade of blue. He keeps stealing a glance or two. Maybe even three, or more. It’s hard to keep count when he’s looking at you like this.

is piercing eyes, sultry and alluring, tempting you to crawl through these roaring flames just to get to him quicker. His demeanour. His stance and posture. His domineering leer. Whatever he—or his body—is doing, is working.

He sits on the boulder, elbow perched on one thick thigh and a hand propped on the other. His hair covers his chestpiece, curled ends barely brushing against his defined ribcage. His bioluminescent freckles dance under the moonlight, his turquoise skin almost golden from the cast of the fire. It’s all so intimidating. He’s exuding dominance, practically looming over you despite him being seated. But there’s something about his aura, something darker.

“I can feel it, you know.” You speak casually, uncrossing your legs.

Ralak’s eyes snap up, boring into yours. He cocks a brow, keeping his eyes locked on you as you stand and walk towards him.

“Your rut. It’s close, isn’t it?”

This would be your first, real rut with him. Without the influence of your own heat. Ralak huffs a sigh, his eyes falling to the small bump that’s in his direct line of sight. Ralak watches as it seemingly grows bigger the closer you get.

“You are showing.” His hands gently rest on your lower abdomen. Holding his shoulders, you slowly straddle him.

“Answer me.” You whisper as you cup his face, tilting it upwards to make him look at you. “I want to be with you… and before you say it—” Ralak grits his teeth as he turns his head away, out of your hands.

“No.”

“Ralak. I am your mate.” You retaliate through tight lips. You knew this would pose an issue.

“Y/n.” He growls, turning his head to look you in the eyes. “You know my rut. Must I remind you that you are with child? It is final.”

“I do know, and that’s why I won’t let you go through that alone, ever again.” Though your voice is stern, he can hear the tenderness in it. That this comes from a place of concern and love.

“I will not be in control.” Ralak admits as he shakes his head firmly, flicking his gaze back down to your belly.

“Look…I made a plan.” You basically confess that you’ve been conjuring up ideas on how to endure this together all day. Although his eyes and hands remain fixed on your tummy, Ralaks ears perk up. He’s listening.

“How do you feel about…being tied up?”

Now you’ve got his attention, eyes snapping up to meet yours. The idea of being tied up isn’t entirely foreign to him. It’s something that his people use as a punishment for those who do wrong. He’s not opposed to it. Having a rut so intense is probably something to be punished for, anyways.

“Hands behind your back…bound to the marui stilt. I will be the one in control. I will take care of you.”

You take his hands from your stomach and tuck them behind his back, your face now millimeters from his. Ralak fights the urge to kiss you. To free his hands from his back to grab your hips and shove your further down onto his growing bulge.

“...feed you…water you…bathe you.” Your voice falters as you swallow your spit. “...fuck you.”

“...that so?” He whispers against your lips, heart thudding wildly behind his ribcage.

You look in his eyes, and see that they tremble with constraint. He can’t hide it, the look on his face gives it away. He’s really struggling to think straight. To keep his answer as a firm no. And it doesn’t help that he’s on the cusp of his rut. He yearns to accept. Every fibre of his being wants this–wants you. You see it in his eyes, as they flicker like the flame behind you.

He just needs a little push.

“We’ll take it slow…gently.” You roll your hips into him and feel his cock straining against his tewng. You lean in close, lips brushing against his as you speak into his mouth. “And, if anything happens… we’ll stop. No knotting.”

His ears twitch. He’s considering it. Really, actually considering this. But how could he? How could he expect this of you in your state? He squeezes his eyes shut, frustrated and conflicted. And aroused. So fucking aroused that when he feels your lips drag against his cheek, your tongue tasting the lobe of his ear…your breathy whisper, “Pänutìng [Promise].”, he lets out a heated, shaky breath of defeat. Of surrender.

That seals the deal.

—

Not now. Not yet. Ralak thinks to himself, fighting his urges.

The urge to mate—to pin you down and drive himself inside you. He must remain in control. For you. For your unborn. He sits on the floor, slumped against the stilt of the marui, bowed shoulders and a heavy, hung head. His skin, flushed, and eyes swollen—glowing a vibrant mauve. His hair haphazardly sticks to his sweltering skin as his hands lethargically twiddle with the braided twine behind his back.

Groggy, you strain to open your eyes and quickly scan your surroundings. Ralaks pheromones cloud the room, engulfing you with their overpowering scent. As you sit up, the bed creaks and Ralak lifts his head, allowing it to flump limply back into the stilt. Extra lidded eyes and tensed brows, he breathes through his mouth. He wills himself to speak, but he’s heavy and sluggish as if he were three bottles deep.

“Ralak.” Your voice is wary and full of concern. Your eyes continue to trail down his body, landing on the undeniable, taut bulge in his loincloth. His cock strains against the fabric, precum completely soaking it through. “How long have you been like this?”

“Few hours.” He croaks out a dry throat.

“And you didn’t wake me?” You hastily make your way behind him, slipping to your knees to take the twine from him.

Fuck. There it is. Your scent...driving him over the edge. Wafting past his nose and making him woozy in the head.

“Tie me.” He demands. For a moment, you’re frozen in place by his tone, unable to move your hands and fingers. “Quickly.”

The edginess in his voice startles you, causing you to fumble with the twine. You take a breath and begin tying the knot as he taught you, weaving the twine with itself, tugging at the ends to close it.

“Tighter.” He snaps at you, making your ears lay flat. You pull the ends even tauter, witnessing the twine pinch the thin skin on his wrists.

“Shit—sorry. Didthat hurt?” You go to loosen the knot, but he pulls at the restraints, making it even tighter.

“Leave it.” He grumbles, tugging yet again, ensuring it’s unyielding.

Because the closer you get, the harder he finds it to resist. He needs to know that he can’t get out—that he can’t hurt you—before he loses it completely. And with that delicious scent seeping from your neck, he feels himself slipping under.

“Are you sure? I can tie you after you drink some water and have a—”

“No...haah—now.” He growls, dropping his head causing the rest of his hair to flow forward and cover his face. “…need you now.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks, heating them up and flushing them over. You can even feel your heart pumping it harder–faster. It’s hot in here, but even hotter now that you feel yourself heating up too. It’s his rut, influencing you like some sort of drug. You can barely control your breathing, much less think straight. But you told him that you’d be the one in control, the one to care for him.

“Mawey, ma’ muntxatan [Calm, my husband].” You whisper close to his ear, giving the knot a final tug. “What kind of mate would I be if I did not care for you first? Hm?”

You shuffle to your feet, and walk away, newly widened hips swaying side to side with temptation. He’s taking in the show through the cracks of space between his clumped together strands of hair, unable to look away no matter how hard he tries. Knowing this, you bend over, lifting your tail to expose your clothed mound to him. You swear you can hear a hiss seep from his lips, and that brings a smile to yours.

Teasing him is one of your favourite things to do.

You scoop up some water into the cup, and bring it over to him. Using two fingers to his chin, you tilt his head back, revealing the famine in his inebriated eyes. They’re glossy with need and desperation, begging you to take his ache away.

“Alright, alright.” You coo softly, sinking back to your knees. “I’m going to make it go away. Now, drink for me.” You bring the cup to his lips, tilting it carefully as he gulps it down thirstily. A few drops dribble down his chin and onto his already glistening chest, rolling down his unflexed stomach.

Tossing the empty cup to the side, you bend forward and lick the beads of water up his stomach, to his throat, to his lips. His arms jerk reflexively, wanting to cup your face as your lips lock with his.

Throwing a leg over his lap, you straddle him, pressing against the bulge in his sticky tewng. You cup his face instead, deepening the kiss to have a taste of the potent desperation on his tongue.

When you pull away, your noses brush against one another and you feel woozy in the head. His rut is beginning to affect you now. Which isn’t all a bad thing if you want to be able to keep up with him for the next couple days.

Your hand smoothes over his jawbone to the nape of his neck, where you gently grip the base of his kuru. His ears immediately lay flat to his head, reddening at just the tips. Running your hand along its length, you bring the end of his kuru in front of him.

“Going to make the bond.” You warn him breathily, bringing forth your queue as well.

At this point, Ralak is huffing for air and sweating profusely. It looks as if he’s nearing his peak already. This only reaffirms that you’re making the right decision by making tsaheylu—you need the direct influence of his tìsom [heat].

When the tendrils intertwine, you come together with a sharp tug and gasp. Instantaneously, you sink into a hazy state, heating up from within. Your breath syncs with his, and suddenly you’re panting too.

“Ralak.” You moan softly, grinding into him for a bit of friction.

You can’t stop your hips from snapping, and your loincloth is almost completely soaked. He throws his head back into the wooden stilt, looking at you through lidded eyes as he lets loose subtle groans. He looks more than hungry. He looks starved.

With trembling hands, you search for the knot of his loincloth at the base of his tail. After a bit of scuffling, you untether it and shimmy his tewng down his hips and off of him. Up springs his aching cock, veiny and swollen. It’s so obviously neglected, glossy and sticky with his slick, so uncomfortably hard that it’s already pulsing as it stands firmly pressed against your clothed cunt.

“Fuck. It’s… even bigger.” You’re taken aback, unsure of how exactly you managed to take this inside you last time he was in rut. Then you notice the red tinge of colour on his cockhead, especially where his ridges stand erect. “D-Does that hurt, karyu?” Bump in the way, you shift your hips back to reveal what exactly you’re talking about. “Need your numeyu to take away the pain?”

The giant remains silent, but his cock jumps in response, oozing out another large bead of precum. Using your pointer finger, you trace the length of his cock, swollen balls to his pointed tip, collecting that fresh bead of slick on the pad of your digit. He watches intently as you pop your finger into your mouth and suckle, swallowing his semi-sweet essence. His brows knit tightly together.

You know this is nothing short of torture to him. And though you have every intention to take the ache away… when would you get another opportunity like this? Where this giant is tied down and unable to resist the pleasure you bring him. Where you’re completely… in control. Fuck, you’ve never felt like this before. It's exhilarating. It’s a feeling of power. Of dominance.

A smirk pulls at your lips.

You begin to pull yourself to your knees, brushing your swollen breasts against his lips. His tongue darts out, eager for a taste. Looking down, you cup one breast with your hand, and guide your stiff nipple into his mouth. His lips pucker over it, closing once they make contact for a vacuum seal.

Your breath hitches when you feel his tongue tickle the sensitive tip of your nipple. His teeth graze against them as he tries to do this handsfree, and you let out a low hiss. Soon his movements grow erratic, being bound to the marui stilt is starting to frustrate him.

“Ah-ah. What do you need, karyu? Just tell me.” Your voice is feigned with innocence. He breathes heavy against your chest, keeping quiet as his focus is purely on getting his fill. “You won’t get anything from them.” You tsk, tugging away little by little, until eventually you pop off his mouth.

You continue to rise to your feet, dragging his lips along your swelling tummy, until he’s eye level to the band of your tewng. You can feel his eyes pierce into you, his stare is anything but discreet. It’s intimidating. Your hand flies to the back of your loincloth, fiddling with the knot to untie it.

“Is it this?”

The cloth drops to your ankles, exposing your flushed cunt to him. It’s pink and hot to the touch, undeniably aroused. Your scent grows stronger with each passing second, filling his lungs. It’s driving him insane—being able to see and smell, but not touch. His rut is only making him more irritable. He just needs to fuck into something and spill himself inside.

His eyes glisten over an even brighter shade of purple, locking onto their meal. He wets his bottom lip with a quick swipe of his tongue as you take a step closer. You cup his jawbone, tilting it upwards to look down at him. The sight is… intoxicating. His lidded eyes, blown pupils that are threatening to roll to the back of his head. Tensed brow bones and damped, slightly parted lips—not a drop of composure left in his features.

That new feeling rushes through you again, making you take two more steps forward. Your bare cunt brushes against the tip of his nose, officially branding it with your scent. He leans into you, closing his eyes and straining his neck to indulge himself.

Your thumb smoothes over his jaw before your hand slips to the back of his head. You fist his hair and yank his head back, sending his eyes flying open. With your free hand, you spread your pussy lips, exposing your swollen clit. It’s sticky and in need of attention, throbbing occasionally as you tug your hood back.

“Now, suck.” You demand breathily, slowly guiding him by the head to bring his lips to your clit.

You clench around nothing when you feel his heated, slippery lips pucker over the stiffened nub, sucking gently. Sharp eyes bore into yours before they roll back, leaving nothing but the whites exposed. Lids finally fluttering closed, he sucks a little harder, tips of his canines accidentally nipping your supple skin.

“Ss—fuck.” You hiss, hips snapping back with force, popping off his mouth with a sharp sting. Frantic fingers rub away the tingling sensation as you grit your teeth. You shuffle your feet to ground yourself as you tighten your grip on his hair and hold his head still.

“I know you’re in rut, but be good to your muntxate [wife].” You warn through your teeth before shoving his face back into your cunt.

This time he feasts with greed, groaning like a starved man. Eating, like a starved man. He’s slurping and sucking, lapping up your slick as it coats his tongue and lips, enjoying every second of your reign.

“Oh—oh shit. Fuck. Right there—” You moan breathlessly, free hand flying to his head to fist his hair, using it as leverage to keep him just where he is.

Before you know it your hips are moving on their own, humping at his face as you hold him tightly with both hands. With each thrust you shove him further back into the stilt, until the back of your hand is repeatedly hitting its surface.

Until you’re hunched over him, looking him deep in the eyes as you grind into whatever part of him your clit is rubbing against. He expertly holds his breath as he allows you full control to fuck his face as if you were the one in heat.

Because with each roll of your hips he feels it too.

He feels the jolt of pleasure that shoots through you when his tongue hits your clit in that special spot. When the tips of his canines graze your swollen folds. The feeling is all consuming and he’s whining into your cunt from the over—and under—stimulation. His cock shifts to a shade of purple, jumping each time you thrust into his mouth.

‘Sorry, Ralak. ‘m sorry.’ You think to him through tsaheylu, feeling the burn in your own lungs now.

“Haa—ah, fuck. Thrust. Fuck. Thrust. F-Fuck! I’m gonna cum—in your—ngh!” Your voice quavers as you come suddenly undone in his mouth, holding him firm and still as you rock your body into him.

His eyes slam shut and his brows knit tightly together as he grunts repeatedly into your cunt. He tugs harshly at his restraints and his heels dig into the woven floor. Yet still, you hold onto him even tighter until your pussy stops fluttering.

With a loud, shaky gasp, you yank him away, letting go of his hair to grab the marui stilt to stop your trembling legs from giving out beneath you. Ralak wheezes loudly, shoulders heaving harshly as he frantically pants for air. His face is bright pink, flushed and glazed in a layer of sweat. He opens his eyes but they’re so heavy that you can barely see the colour in them.

“Rutxe [please].” Ralak begs through a desperate groan, flicking his stare downwards. And when you look, you’re met with the sight of his still-throbbing cock, covered in his sticky, thick cum. Shiney beads still ooze out and dribble down his length and onto his swollen, firm balls.

His first word was a plea of help.

Your heart aches in your chest. How could you let yourself go so far with your little bit of power? To be so selfish. And here he was, in so much discomfort and yet you put your needs first. Leaving him so neglected to the point his body makes the release for him. Is this how he felt after he unleashed six pent up years on you in a couple days?

Pent up years of suffering.

“Shh. You’re okay, my love. You’re okay.” You whisper as you slowly squat down. “I got you. I’m going to make it…” you hold eye contact with him as you lower yourself onto his cock, aligning his tip with your sopping entrance, “…all better now.”

You wince when his cock slowly penetrates you, mewling a little higher with every inch you manage to take. The stretch is almost unbearable. This is the first rut you’ve spent with him without being in heat.

No foggy haze to dull the ache.

No emptiness to be filled.

And it doesn’t help that your womb is already so full.

Your mewl quickly turns into a whimper when your bodies become flush to one another. Ralaks head slumps back into the marui stilt and he heaves a loud, lengthy moan of relief from being buried deep inside your warm cunt. You feel so good around him, making his cock heat up and twitch inside of you.

Snaking your arms around his neck, you hold onto him as you frantically try to adjust to his size. It’s dawning on you exactly what you’ve gotten yourself into, and that you’ve seriously underestimated his rut. A sense of uncertainty begins to tighten your stomach but it quickly dissipates when you hear Ralak’s second plea.

“Rutxe, ma’ tanhì..” Ralak mutters with a pained, gravelly voice.

Without another word, you move your hips up and down, dragging his length along your gummy, slick walls. Your movements are sloppy and uncoordinated, you’re not used to doing most of the work much less all of it. With his hands tied behind his back, you can already feel the burn in your thighs and the throb in the tips of your toes.

Regardless, you keep moving your hips.

Bouncing up and down on his cock, pressing your forehead into his in a poor attempt to steady your position. That little sting slowly morphs into something of pleasure the more your hips meet his with a slap. And soon all you can hear is smack, after smack, after smack. The noises that split his lips tell you all you need to know. He’s feeling good and that’s all that matters.

But exhaustion hits you quickly—unexpectedly. His cock is buried to the hilt inside you, and the more tired your legs get, the deeper it drills inside you, pressing harshly into your cervix. Your legs are trembling uncontrollably and you can barely catch your breath, leaving you no choice but to lazily rock back and forth on his cock.

Ralak lets out a grunt and bucks his hips.

“Haah!” You yelp.

Ralaks ears lay flat, lips pursed tightly into a thin line. He can’t hold back his frustration any longer. He’s growing impatient. If he didn’t get his real release soon he may really lose it. He’s grunting through his nose and tugging at his restraints, bruising his wrists. You feel him shift his hips up and shove his cock as far as he can inside you.

“Ngh! I-It won’t go any deeper!” Your voice strains as you try to lift yourself up. But he just keeps pushing until his feet are grounded. And then his hips drop, pulling his cock half way out of you.

Thrust.

Ralak slams his cock back inside you, drilling deeper than he was before. Your mouth falls open as all the air is forcefully expelled from your lungs. As you suck in a gasp of air he thrusts inside you again. And again. And again. Until he’s rutting into you in a feverish frenzy, chasing his climax as if it were prey. His thrusts turn relentless, leaving you breathless with each buck of his hips.

“Fuck—fuck—fu—” Your voice bounces with his thrusts.

You look down, met with eyes that are empty yet heavy with appetite. He’s in the thick of it and he’s no longer all there. He’s purely instinct now and the only thing holding him back from pinning you down and having his way with you is the twine wrapped around his wrists.

You can’t lie and say that you aren’t enjoying the look on his face and the break from the burn in your thighs. Stars sprinkle your vision as you’re overwhelmed with the immense pleasure he’s slamming into you. He’s fucking you into submission and you’re mind is borderline blank. His groans are primal and guttural, and they grow louder with each hysteric thrust.

“Want to knot.” He huffs suddenly—desperately. You can feel his thick knot poke and prod at your entrance, his thrusts now sloppy and erratic.

“Fuck, I—” You know you shouldn’t, no matter how hazy his rut is making you feel. “W-We can’t. I’m still ea—rly.” But he’s too busy watching himself fuck you in a daze, drenched with sweat. “Ralak…” You grab his face, tilting his chin upwards so he looks you in the face. His gaze is hollow yet his features are tense. “…are y–ou hear–ing me, la–k?”

“Need to breed.” He growls as he fights against his restraints. He doesn’t ease up on his tussle with the twine, sweating and panting as he desperately tries to force his knot inside you.

“Shit.” You mutter, coming to the quick realisation that he can’t stop himself. “Wait, wait, wait—”

Your hands fall from his face to his stomach, pushing down in a panicky attempt to lift yourself off him. But his rut is making you sluggish and weak, so you make the quick decision to sever the bond with a rough yank.

Snap.

“Oh, fuck.” You curse under your breath.

The twine breaks, and his arms fly forward, hands making impact with your hips, fingernails digging into the thin skin. His grip is unyielding as he holds you down firmly on his cock. You feel him throb inside you as he attempts to plug you full with his knot.

“Lak! Ralak, h-hold on!” As much as you actually want to, you can barely take what’s inside you as it is.

“Submit.” He rasps, top lip curled tight to his teeth, baring his canines.

“I—I’m pregnant.” You whisper quickly, voice hoarse and strained.

Immediately, his movements cease and his eyes flick down to your tiny bump, then widen when he finally realises. In one swift, sudden move, he lifts you off him and uses your swollen pussy lips to hug his cock and finish himself off. He rocks you back and forth like a rag doll at the mercy of undying grip, growling and grunting.

His head drops forward when he outright howls. You look down and witness his mushroomy head pulsating feverishly, spurting out his load in thick ropes, all over his stomach and chest. All whilst his engorged, throbbing knot pulses against your slit as he cums, earning some well deserved comfort and warmth.

Ralak sputters as he tries to catch his breath, hands still glued to your hips. The fog still clouds his mind but it’s less blinding now. He’s just about capable of acknowledging what just happened. To acknowledge that this was risky, and could’ve ended badly. That, if you hadn’t said something to him, he would have knotted you without mercy.

An uncomfortable silence passes between you, where you’re both breathing heavily and staring at one another. You both share the same thought—the same realisation. His rut is too aggressive for you to handle right now.

“I must go.” Ralak looks away as he breaks the silence, wanting to take advantage of his release before the pressure builds yet again. He’s clear headed enough to leave without turning back and pouncing on you.

“No, don’t… we can try again.” You say softly, hand cupping his jawbone, turning him to face you. You feel terrible that he may have to spend this rut alone, that you couldn’t fulfil your promise—your duty as his mate.

“I almost knotted you, y/n.” His eyes gloss over with guilt, his hands finally peeling away your bruised hips.

“But… you didn’t. You stopped yourself—”

“And if I do not leave now… I will.” Ralak growls inches away from your face.

You’re a little taken aback by his bluntness, but you know it’s the truth. And it’s final. No matter what you say. No matter how it makes the flesh between your legs throb a little more. You nod, keeping yourself quiet.

“I will see you in a couple days. I love you both.” Your lips meet briefly before he carries you to bed and readies himself to leave. You watch in silence, murmuring an “I love you, too” under your breath when he exits the marui.

—

As time passed you grew more angsty, unable to keep in one spot or focus on a single task. All that ran on your mind was Ralak and how he was probably suffering all alone. All because you failed to do your duty as his mate. The guilt was almost sickening, having you dry heaving into your bedside bucket a few times for the rest of the day.

Until later that night.

You rub in the thick, oily concoction on your belly, getting ready for bed. The sound of the marui door flapping open startles you, making you jump in your skin and clutch your stomach. You’re not expecting Ralaks return so soon.

A silhouette stands tall at the door, his bioluminescent star pattern unmistakable.

“Ralak? Oh, Ralak. Eywa. You’re back. I should have made dinner. I thought you'd be gone for a while longer. You must be so hungry. You—” You speak urgently, eyes flicking down to his tewng, which is seemingly damp, “—was it too much? …are you alright? Let me help you, lak.”

“Tanhì.” Ralaks cuts you short, voice trembling slightly, yet full of relief. “It is done.”

“…what?” The question is breathy.

“My rut.” Ralak says as he makes his way towards you, scooping up a glob of your special concoction. He sits next to you, and begins massaging it into your back. “You have fixed me.”

You come to the realization that he's talking about his rut finishing earlier than usual—like that of an average na'vi.

“You were never broken, my love.” You moan softly, closing your eyes to enjoy the massage.

Ralak then rests his chin on your shoulder, smoothing his hands down your back and around your abdomen—rubbing what's left on his hands onto your swelling belly. His touch prickles your skin, sending the tip of your tail swishing.

“I live for you.” He mutters with a thick accent, nuzzling his face into your neck. “I will die for you.”

Your heart skips a beat when you hear his words, he must have really been suffering for the past six years. You feel your face heat up, and you try to fight the smile balling your cheeks. You opt to drop your head and hide your face instead, resting a hand on his thigh.

“Well. We won’t have you doing that.” You giggle, rubbing his upper thigh as you turn your head to glance at him. “…the last part, that is.”

But he just looks at you, face still as stone. He speaks sternly.

“I will.” He speaks sternly.

You swallow your spit, tempted to drop your head again as you take in the gravity of his two words. You nod, searching his eyes with yours as you close the space between you. You hover open mouthed against his lips.

“Me too.”

——

Time waits for no one.

At least that’s how it felt. You had ballooned overnight, round and a little heavier as you embarked on your sixth month of pregnancy. His kicks grew stronger and more uncomfortable. But it was Ralaks favourite thing to feel before bed.

You found yourself spending most of your days bouncing between your marui and your family’s marui—paying your family visits more often. They grew fond of the idea that there would be an addition to the family and it became a regular thing for you to seek refuge there when Ralak was roped in for his ‘duties’. Which seemed to increase in number the further along you progressed.

Ralak had his daily duties—tending to the ilus, a few lessons, fishing... These were just the simpler tasks that you could say you knew for certain he did. But there were his ‘fkxaranga’ [stressful] duties’, as you liked to call them.

The ones where Tonowari would summon him with nothing else but a simple nudge or glance. The duties that were spontaneous. That stole precious hours of his time. Duties that left Ralak spent and on edge, reaching for his top shelf when he came home. Those were the ones you dreaded the most.

The ones like last night.

——

With a huff, Ralak chucks his gear onto the floor and roughly unclips his chest piece. His pointed tools are covered in some sort of thick, iridescent muck, shifting from green to orange as they rock side to side on the floor. It’s something you’ve been seeing recently with no idea as to what it is.

Ralak grunts, bringing your attention to his lips, which are slightly downturned. The more you take in the sight before you the more it occurs to you how exhausted this man is. His eyes are hollow, ears droopy, tail dragging heavily behind him. His muscles are seized up despite the bow of his shoulders—he looks as if he could use a massage.

“Manga [Hey, you].” You get up to meet him at the door, taking the chest piece out of his hands to hang up on the wooden stand. “Tonowari is working your tail off. Do I need to have a word with that man?”

He only works up a grumble as you lead him over to the bed. “That bad? What is he making you do? Hunt akulas? Eywa.”

Ralak sits down, face sinking into his hands before two fingers slip down to pinch the bridge of his nose. You climb up and settle behind him, huffing and puffing along the way. Your hands smooth over his back, thumbs pressing firmly into his muscles, kneading the flesh until you feel him loosen up.

Though the question sounded rhetorical, he knew it wasn’t. He knows you’re awaiting a response, the silence is loud and clear. You always want to know more about his day, fine details and all. And he’s usually reluctant to speak of it, but insisting it’s nothing for you to worry your head over. But recently, your inquisitivity is… well founded. And he knows it.

“Not quite.” He mumbles wearily into his palm, ears laid flat to his skull–although it wasn’t uncommon for him to encounter an akula or two whilst fulfilling the olo’eyktan’s orders.

You open your mouth to question him further, but you can tell that he’s more than tired. And it didn’t help that you were constantly needing his help, especially now that you’re growing heavier.

Going down the stairs is a struggle considering you can no longer see your own feet or keep your balance. You had been waking him up almost twice a night to help you down the marui stairs just to pee. He’d always be happy to help, though. He understands that this is what comes with the changes that are happening to your body that’s giving life to his child.

“Rest. Please.” You say softly, tugging at him to lie down in bed with you.

To your surprise, he actually lays down, assuming his typical position before dozing off for the night—on his back with a hand on your belly. You expected him to resist a little, insisting something or another.

He really, really must be tired. Your heart fills with something heavy. Something that makes you almost feel sick. Your brows pinch as you look beside you to see his tensed face relax into something of tranquility.

And a smile pulls at your lips when his eyes fall shut.

Dinner’s over the firepit—his favourite stew with extra mushrooms. The sound of it bubbling becomes louder as it thickens. With a quick, final stir, you take it off the fire and cover it to let it sit. You hope that this will help lift his mood when he wakes. You look over to him as he lays stockstill with softened features, breathing tidally.

Holding onto a supporting beam of the marui, you bring yourself to your feet and waddle your way over to him. You extend a hand to wake him for dinner but you hesitate. He needs this. And that’s when you make the decision to allow him however long it takes to rest. Even if it means that you speak to Tonowari yourself.

Night falls and the temperature falls with it. The glowing firepit keeps the stew and marui warm for the time being as you prepare for bed. You draw the curtains and glance over to your mate, who still remains in a deep sleep, tucked cozily under the blanket you covered him with. You drape the shawl he wove you over your shoulders, and make your way to the door.

A silent yawn splits your lips just before you lift away the flap. Your eyelids are heavy and the drowsiness is weighing on you tenfold. You have one last step of your nightly routine before you can crawl into bed next to your husband. And that's emptying the bladder that your son uses as a footrest. Plus, if you didn’t do it now, it would just be an additional trip in the middle of the night.

As you make your way to the door, the need to go becomes urgent. Perhaps it was all the water you thirstily chugged whilst eating, or maybe it's just the fact that you're already on your way there. Either way, you can’t seem to get there quick enough. Your movements turn hasty the second you get to the top step, hands clutching on the only thing available—your bulging belly. You’re looking down despite the fact that you can’t even see your feet.

Leaning forward slightly, you try to shift your stomach to the side to see your next step. You step down and feel your bare foot make contact with the slippery wood. Your toes press into its surface to ground you as you take your next step. You wobble when you get to the last step, and sigh in relief when you feel the cold, wet sand spill between your toes.

After wasting no time and doing what you came to do, you quickly make your way back to the marui. The tips of your ears and tails are just going numb from how cold it is and the night dew is beginning to form. You get to the bottom step, fixing your shawl so that it’s out the way. You make your way up the first, second and third step, but when you get to the fourth your shawl falls forward.

And so do you.

A blood curdling shriek rips from your throat when you feel your feet give out beneath you. Your hands splay out to grab onto whatever’s around you to break your fall but before you know it you're tumbling back down the stairs at a frightening rate. You keep on your side as best you can, landing into the sand with a muffled thump.

“Fuck. Shit—oh, great mother—” You mutter as you hyperventilate, clutching your stomach as you wait for your son to kick—to show you some sign of life. Your eyes well with tears as you rub your bump vigorously. Your heart is slamming violenting against your rib cage, so hard you can hear it over the ringing in your ears. “Please, please, please.”

…but nothing.

“Y/n?!” You hear Ralaks worried voice boom behind you, then his hurried footsteps down the stairs.

Maybe it’s his fathers voice, but your unborn son gives you one of the biggest kicks yet. You sob out a laugh, rubbing your stomach as relief flows through your body. You take a few deep breaths through your mouth to calm down, feeling another reassuring kick.

“Y/n. Y/n.” Ralak chants your name, eyes rapidly darting side to side to assess you as he kneels beside you. Concern’s etched deeply into his features as he lifts your arms and legs, searching for injuries.

“I’m alright. I’m alright.” You repeat urgently, but he continues to look, even taking off your shawl. His eyes are wide and he seems to be in some level of shock, especially after coming straight out of a deep sleep. “Ralak. Really. I’m fine. We’re okay.”

Ralaks features soften at your two final words. His stare falls to your swollen belly, hands taking the place of yours as he waits. After a few seconds of stillness, his eyes snap up to yours—refilling with worry. He begins to shake his head, and you reassure him with a hand to his face.

“Talk to him.” You whisper with trembling lungs. Ralak looks back down to your stomach.

“Maitan [My son].” Your mate says in a low, steady voice, ensuring not to allow even a hint of fright slip through. Just then, he feels a little nudge against the palm of his hand. Ralaks gaze snaps up to you and his expression relaxes, hands rubbing your belly gently. “How did this happen, tanhì?”

“I…needed to pee.” You say shamefully, avoiding eye contact. “…and I tripped going up the steps.” You glance up at him to see what you perceive to be a face of disappointment. “I’m sorry. I know, I’m so stupid.”

“No. Do not say that.” He interjects, tensing his jaw. “...you are heavy with child—why did you not wake me?”

“You were so, so tired. You needed to rest, and I did not want to disturb you.” You turn to your side to get up, wincing when a sharp pain shoots down your back.

“Careful.” He clears his throat, stopping you from trying to get up on your own. He watches your contorted face relax, but the heart wrenching guilt just gets worse. “You should have. Wake me for anything.” He says sternly, snaking his arms underneath you to lift you up. “Everything.”

“You really don’t have to—” Ralak continues, scooping you in his arms and holding you close to his chest. “I can walk. I’m all right, Ralak.”

You try to reassure him, shuffling in his arms to get down. But he only muffles out a sigh, glancing down at you with downturned brows and droopy ears. He then walks away from the marui stairs, to the direction of the water.

“Where are we going?” You ask quickly when you realise that you’re walking away from home. Ralak clicks for his tsurak, taking his time as he mounts it with you tucked to his chest. “Ralak.”

“To tsahìk.” He states, making the bond with his beast.

“Ronal?” You sound almost panicked as the idea of everyone knowing you fell up the stairs clouds your mind. It’s almost mortifying to think about. “We don’t need to do that, it’s really late too, and—”

Commanding his beast to go, you both take off at full speed. It doesn’t take long to arrive at the tsahìk’s healing pod. Many healers gather at the door when they hear the sound of Ralak’s low pitched call. And they rush out to meet him as he carries you towards them in a hurried manner. They usher you in, hushed murmurs growing louder and clearer as they bring you to Ronal.

You didn’t even notice the burning pain in your lower back until you were about half way here.

The Tsahìk stands upon your entrance, her crystal blue eyes widening when she sees Ralak with you in his arms. You wince as he lays you down where the healers instruct him to. She strides over to a woven basket filled with an array of herbs and needle-like wooden sticks, and quickly props it on her hip—just out of the way of her own bump. She settles herself beside you, feeling your stomach as she channels Eywa.

Ronal throws a look to Ralak, whose hands are on his hips as he waits patiently for the verdict.

“She fell.” He says, only for Ronal to cock an eyebrow. “Stairs.” He finishes. Then both her eyebrows raise, and she reaches for a jar of a ground up, purplish herb. She pours half of it into a wooden bowl, and activates it with a few drops of water from the spirit tree.

“Baby is strong. Very strong.” The Tsahìk announces, and both you and Ralak heave a loud sigh of relief. “But—” Ronal props your legs up on the makeshift table, spreading them slightly. Embarrassment flushes your cheeks as you look over to Ralak. “You are still at risk.”

Ralak moves closer to you, taking your hand in his to keep you calm. You both watch as Ronal rolls the fabric tightly into a small cylindrical shape. You swallow your spit when you realise exactly where that’s going.

“This ensures he stays. It will also help with the pain.” She states, glancing at Ralak to see the glare he’s trying to hold back. She shakes her head slightly and hands you the precautionary apparatus. “Insert. Rest…and remove at sunrise.” Ronal continues, drawing back the curtain to give you some privacy.

“Sunrise?” You whisper to yourself as you watch her step out.

Your eyes dart up to Ralak who is clearly concerned, staring down at you with worry in his eyes. Embarrassment heats up your cheeks and your nerves fray. Why are you so shy all of a sudden? He’s your mate. Your husband.

You sit up a bit more and try to see over your stomach to get the task done with shaky hands. You fumble and struggle with the flimsy cloth, blindly doing your best. But each time you lean forward the pain in your back burns hotter.

Ralak’s supporting you with a hand on your upper back, patiently waiting for you, noticing your trembling fingers and little grunts. He uses his free hand to cup yours, stilling your hurried movements.

“Mawey [calm]. Breathe.” He hums, gently taking it from you and helping you lay down.

You look him in the eyes as he inserts it carefully, wincing when the concoction stings a bit. Ralak gives your hand a light squeeze, speaking as if he had access to your thoughts. You nod, trying to smile through the burning sensation, but he picks up on your discomfort.

“What is it? Is it your back?" His voice quavers with worry.

“No… just burns a little.” You say quietly. You watch his jaw flutter and his shoulders droop as he huffs out a sigh. “Not to worry. It’s going away now.”

As he’s about to speak, the curtain is drawn to the side and Ronal comes in and stands at the arched entrance, hand on her hip. Ralak averts his attention to her, his eyes glancing down at her unborn moving in her belly. Although you were both six months pregnant, you were noticeably bigger than her.

“A word.” Her serious tone of voice brings him out of deep thought, and her nudging head tells him that it’s something urgent.

Ralak looks at you, not wanting to leave you alone but you smile and reassure him with a light nod. He clenches his jaw but you give him a gentle push towards Ronal. He squeezes your hand before letting go and leans in to plant a firm kiss on your forehead. You watch as he leaves, laying back and taking in the ripples in the curtain as you strain to hear their hushed conversation.

“Ronal. Oe irayo si ngaru. [Thank you]” Ralak begins, bowing before the shorter na’vi.

“I worry for your mate.” Ronal cuts to the chase, using her hand to guide him further away from the curtain.

“For what reason?” He asks, keeping his head hung to hear what she has to say. They walk until they’re nearly at the entrance of the healing pod.

“Your son is fast growing.” She speaks calmly but quickly.

Ralak is a little puzzled, although he doesn’t show it. Is that such a bad thing? He continues to look down at her with the same expression, listening intently to what the tsahìk speaks of.

“Her body will struggle. Birth will be hard. Very long and painful.” Now Ralak is having a hard time keeping his emotions concealed as they chisel themselves into his features. Yet he remains silent. “You must warn her about mun’i [the cut].”

“Pxasìk [no way/fuck that]” Ralak curses through a hiss in his native tongue as he stands at full height, figuratively and literally taken aback. How dare she call that upon his mate? Ronal returns a low hiss as Ralak moves away from her, staring down at her with a mixture of emotions.

Concern. Surprise. Fear.

Mun’i [the cut] is rare and risky. Only three have been performed since the birth of this clan, all done in desperation when hope was gone. The last one was performed by Ronal's mother herself. It is an extremely invasive procedure where the mother is cut and the infant is removed. It’s only done in dire situations, where the mother is incapable of giving birth to their young naturally, and risks dying in the process.

Ralak can’t help but feel a burning anger amongst the sea of emotions flooding him at once. How could she suggest such a thing to him? Something so dangerous and grave? All because you will give birth to ‘a different kind’. He’s more than confident that you’re capable of this, despite the murmurs circulating the clan.

He has always been aware of Ronal's perception of you, and her opinion about the mating. It was no secret, though she never outwardly told Ralak as he is like a son to her. She often insisted that you two were not compatible in more ways than one, and always saw you as the forest girl who needed special training. But to know that Ronal doubts your capabilities to give life ignites a flame in his chest.

One that he must quickly put out.

“Ralak!”

He hears you call out for him, prompting him to quell the flame and shoot Ronal a glare of displeasure. “She is stronger than you know.” Ralak speaks through his teeth before turning his heel to tend to you.��

Heart pounding, he makes his way through the curtain to be met with the joyous sight of you cradling your stomach with a smile plastered to your face. That only further calms the flicker of the flame in his chest, making a smile tug at his lips. He sees you glance up at him, pearly teeth glistening in the luminosity of the night.

“Sorry if I startled you, it’s just—he’s kicking so hard. Come, come feel!” You blubber excitedly, reaching out for his hand to place it on your belly. He slowly takes a knee, staying still as stone to soak up each movement. “He is so strong, Ralak. Like you.” You whisper, looking down at your mate doting on your bump.

Though he should be proud of your words, he can’t help but feel a little nervous by them. If this child is really like him, then what Ronal said may have some truth to it. Yet he smiles, smoothing his thumb over your protruding belly button.

“He is strong like his sa’nu [mummy].” He says softly, perhaps in attempts to reassure himself and calm his own nerves. Your smile only grows and you place your hand on top of his.

“What did Ronal say?” Ralaks eyes snap up to yours, wide and almost panicked, wiping the smile off your face instantly. “Oh, no. Is it bad? Is something wrong?”

“No, no. She says…” He drops his head, watching his unborn move as he contemplates telling you. You need rest, and this would further stress your mind and body. Ralak urges himself to smile—to create a new mask—one of feigned happiness. “…you must rest. Wait until sunrise.”

“Oh, okay.” You exhale a sigh of relief, “Good. I—I can do that.”

——

After such an eventful night, sleep found you easily. Ralak carried you up the marui stairs, tucked you into bed and watched as your eyes fluttered shut. And even so, he remained at your side for some time, ensuring you were deep in sleep before embarking on his new task.

It began with a ‘quick’ trip inland for the right kind of wood. The kind that holds up well against the elements and the saltiness of the water. The kind that doesn’t have a slip to it when it's been wet for more than a few hours. It took a few trips to get it all back to the beach but it was more of an irritable task than a difficult one.

Ralak tried to keep as quiet as possible, spending the rest of the night—until sunrise—cutting and carving the wood, binding them together with twine, sap and wooden pins. And by the time the first few rays of sunlight beamed in, he was engraving his finishing touches.

—

Ralak chucks down the tool and it lands into the sand with a muffled thud. Using the back of his strake to wipe his forehead clean of sweat, he looks up at his work for a final time—railings for the marui stairs. Then the bright ray of sun shines before his eyes, standing between his two new creations.

You.

You’re surprised to see him out this early, still in his gear from last night. The realisation dawns on you that he’s been up all night, doing this. You can actually feel your chest warm up as your heart pumps the blood through your veins at an insane rate. It rushes to your cheeks, making them hot and flushed.

“Is this what you’ve been doing all night?” You ask the question under your breath, dragging a hand along the railing. It’s smooth under the pads of your fingers, and warm to the touch, as if they’ve just been filed down. You notice a small carving on the side of the railing—your son’s initial.

“Mm.” He grunts, not that he could have slept anyways. He glances at the initial that you’re staring at. “I should have done it long ago.” The shame in his voice is loud and clear. You look down at your feet, unsure of what to say, noticing that he’s redone the steps too.

“Ralak—”

“You must still wake me. Understand?” He cuts you off, already knowing what you’re about to say.

You take a step down, holding tightly onto the railing with one hand and the other tucked under your bump. He rushes up the stairs and supports you by the arm. You lean into him for a hug, nuzzling your face into his chest. “… thank you, my love.”

“Kea tìkin [no need (for thanks)].” He presses his lips onto the crown of your head, words muffled by your hair. His hand slips down your arm and rests on your lower back. “Still feeling pain?”

“No. I feel good. Like new.” You smile, watching his features soften and his lips pull into a subtle smile. “Your son, too. He kicked me all night.”

“Is that so, young one?” He leans down to speak to your belly as you watch intently, “you must be gentle with your sa’nu [mummy].”

As he looks back up to you, your eyes follow his every move. And suddenly it’s just the two of you, before the orange glow of the sunrise, sharing this intimate gaze with one another.

“Ralak… I see you.” You say softly, witnessing his pupils blow until there’s nothing but thin rings of blue.

He swallows, you see the lump in his throat undulate, and the balls of his cheeks stain a light pink. He blinks a few times, leaning in until his lips brush against yours. He lingers there for a bit, jaw fluttering as he grits his teeth a few times. He can’t help but feel a pang in his chest.

How could he keep this from you?

“Oel ngat kame, ma’ muntxate.” He husks the words before locking his lips with yours.

But as he pulls away, you see the glint in his eye. When he sees your lowered brows and inquisitive eyes, he attempts to fix his mask of indifference—no, happiness. But you see right through it—

The glint of guilt.

“What is it?” You ask, reaching behind him for his kuru. It’s your way of saying, 'no secrets'. He’s quiet. Uncomfortably quiet. Unsure of how to say what he should say. You urge him with a light tug to his queue, creating a little more distance between you to look him dead in the eye. “Ralak.”

“Ronal doubts…you.” He says plainly, trying hard to rid himself of the thought of childbirth taking you away from him.

“I don’t understand. What—what does that mean?” You ask, confused and worried.

“I should have told you about it when you asked.” Ralak says, shaking his head. “But…you were already under so much stress. In pain. Our son—”

“Ralak. Tell me about what?” You whisper quietly—quickly. Ralak looks at you, allowing a few seconds of silence to pass before he speaks.

“Mun’i [the cut].” Ralak’s voice cracks with pain as the dreaded thought floods his mind.

Ralak goes on to explain mun'i, giving you a brief lesson on its history and typical…outcome. He explains why Ronal urged him to warn you about it. And exactly what he told her in return. That he is confident that you are more capable of doing this.

It ends with a comforting embrace and the both of you coming to the conclusion that a conservation with Jake is needed. If the cut were to happen, the sky people’s medical advancements would be…useful.

——

Since then, Ralak adapted a very strict agenda when it came to the preparation of the birth. In some ways, it reminded you of the beginning of your relationship with him as teacher and student. Karyu and Numeyu. A revision of previous lessons, such as breathing lessons.

—

“Deeper breaths, tanhì. Slow.” Ralak instructs you with his hand on your round belly.

“It’s hard…” your voice is strained, “when his feet are in my lungs.”

Ralak chuckles, nodding in understanding. “Right. Do your best.”

You attempt to follow his demonstration a fifth time, inhaling deeply through your nose, holding it, and then slowly letting it out through your mouth. “Light headed now.”

“You did well.” Ralak praises you, snaking an arm around you as he lowers you onto your back. “You all right?”

“Just fine.” You mutter, grateful for the new position.

Ralak looks at you for a while, taking in a sight that may be similar to the one of you giving birth—giving life. The reality that you will soon be a family quickly dawns on him. The reality that… Ronal's words still weigh heavy on his heart.

“And when you bear down…” Ralak pulls your leg back, your knee now grazing against your cheek as they flush with embarrassment. “…shallow, fast breaths. Do not hold it.”

He then demonstrates, emphasising the sound of the breathing technique to ensure you’re doing it properly.

'…hee—hee—hoo…'

You mimic his sounds, looking down to see nothing but your protruding bump. It may be strange to some that Ralak is teaching you a lesson on something such as childbirth. But with his mother-figure being the tsahìk, there were just certain things he grew to have knowledge of.

“Ronal says there are times where it is best to allow your body to take over. Focus on breathing him out. Let your body do the work for you…” You nod slowly as you practice deep breathing in this new position, “…she will show you some positions in your lesson tomorrow.”

"What?" Your ears perk up. For some reason one on one interactions with Ronal always make you nervous.

“The other expecting women of the clan will be there.”

Your ears relax, and you feel a little more at ease knowing you won’t be alone, even if it’s a sea of gossiping women. At least they were more discreet about it.

——

As you neared the final months of your pregnancy, Ralak was called out more frequently. The aches and pains that came along with being so big were just as frequent, it seemed. They’d hit you at the strangest times, during your sleep or whilst on your tsurak.

But when the pain spread to your abdomen is when Ralak urged you to take things easy. But they didn’t stop him from going anywhere. No matter how badly he wanted to stay home and tend to you. It was more complicated than that. Something that you were blissfully unaware of. Something he wanted to keep that way until it was the right time to tell you.

—

“Must you go?” You ask hopefully, tugging at his bicep. “You just got back.”

“Tono will have my head, tahnì.” He states, buckling his chest gear yet another time for today.

“It’s not fair. Not even the warriors back at home tree were called out so much. Especially if their mate was this far along.” You huff, letting go off his bicep to clutch your protruding belly. He cups a hand over yours, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

“Ah. I know, I know. I want to stay, I do—” He’s cut off by your sudden gasp, and your face screwing with discomfort. “Are you alright?” His voice turns fills with concern, head tilting even more so that he can look you in the face. It felt as if your back set ablaze and your stomach hardened into rock. It eases up within a few seconds and you take a quick breath before answering.

“Yeah, I think so.” You feel around your bump, taking note of how it’s softened and back to normal. “…that’s the second one today.”

“Hm. It is. See Ronal while I am gone.” Ralak insists, tucking a couple loose braids behind your ear. You nod in response, gritting your teeth from the reminder that he’s leaving again. “I will speak with Tonowari today.”

He’s quick to kiss you, lingering longer than he should. You savor his tender touch, breathing him in until you’ve gotten your fill to last you until he’s back. He pulls away, a grimace fixed to his face as it’s almost painful to do. He rubs your belly a final time, clicking for his beast. Reluctantly, he leaves, and so do you.

—

‘Practice Contractions.’

Ronal’s diagnosis of your pains.

You’re not entirely unfamiliar with the concept. Mom calls them something different, but it all means the same thing at the end of the day. The body’s way of preparing to give birth. The constriction of your stomach, accompanied by intense pain, at random times with no rhythm.

It’s normal, and expected. Ronal was particularly pleased to see your body do this early in your pregnancy. It typically occurs a couple weeks prior to birth, and both of you weren’t due for another month.

They’re nothing to worry about, but she advises to rest if they get too intense. You waddle home with your tail dragging behind you, unhappy to see no sign of your mates return.

—

“You are late.” Tonowari speaks monotonously, back turned to Ralak as he keeps his eyes on his task—forging a new tool. Ralak has to swallow his frustration and maintain his confidence.

“It will happen soon.” He responds in a similar tone, his eyes following as the olo’eyktan stands. “I must be with her.”

“I understand. I do. But—” Tonowari finishes up the last touches, giving the tool its final inspection. “This is your duty, son.”

“She, is my duty.” Ralak snaps, his frustration slipping through.

Feeling challenged, Tonowari turns to face him, now eye level with Ralak as he slowly nears his subordinate—chest to chest. But with a pregnant mate of his own, and the fact that Ralak is like his own son, Tonowari huffs a sigh and gives this a pass.

“This is for her, too. For the people of the clan. You know what we are about to face. You will do this.” The olo’eyktan states sternly. “When the horn sounds… you come. And that…” he shoves the tool into Ralak’s chest, “…is an order.”

Holding the tool against his own chest, Ralak looks away from Tonowari, grinding his back teeth hard enough to file them flat. He breathes heavily, attempting to recenter himself and stamp out the flame flickering in his chest. Tonowari gives him space, going ahead and mounting his skimwing, readying himself to embark on their journey. Whilst Ralak is left behind to let out a sluggish, shaky breath, closing his eyes when it dawns on him...

…what he must do, where he must go and who he must see.

All before coming home this evening.

—

“Zu’té.”

Ralak calls his name outside of the secluded, dim marui pod. It’s familiar, yet so unknown. It’s an eerie feeling to be standing here. It’s as if no one’s home. Not a single flame burning, nor the residual heat of a smothered fire pit. But Ralak can sense his presence. It’s thick. Aggressive. Just as it’s always been. It’s only intensified since the incident.

The silence is deafening now. A message loud enough to have Ralak reconsidering his actions—rethinking his feelings. No part of him really desired to ask anything of this man, much less this. But in the case Tonowari really doesn’t budge with his decision, it is something he must do. No matter how many years have passed. Ralak has moved on…come to terms with what’s happened, and is in a much better place in his life now. Because of you.

You.

He’s doing this for you. Or is he? The fact he’s fathered a child has a major influence on his decision to be standing here to begin with… perhaps it’s something within him driven by nature—by instinct. The further you’ve progressed, the more he’s thought about rekindling this relationship. But he always brushed off these passing thoughts, until they were no longer just thoughts that passed. They became thoughts that lingered and kept him awake some nights.

Showing their faces the most when Tonowari reminds him of the imminent danger the clan may face.

They reminded him of the good times when they were children. Teasing the ilus when no one was looking, sneaking off to the reef where the adults went to hunt just to see what it was like. But it also reminded him of the more unfortunate moments they shared. Those that will forever leave a scar on their souls, branded by pain and suffering. Since then, Ralak took an oath to never allow his own family to suffer the way he did.

If this is what he must do, he’ll do it.

“I am in need of a favour.” Ralak finally admits, witnessing a tall, thick silhouette emerge from the marui.

At this angle, its darkness looms over Ralak ominously. Green glowing eyes peer down at Ralak as the figure's hands cross defensively over his chest. He steps out of the darkness, revealing his inked face and intricately up-kept hair. He looks as if he’s been disturbed or rudely interrupted, evident in the way his eyes pierce fearlessly into Ralak. But Ralak simply returns the leer.

“Zu’té.” Ralak speaks his name again, a little more sternly this time.

“Brother. To what do I owe this visit?” His tone is sarcastic with undertones of hostility.

Ralak sighs, turning his head away from his older brother, fixating his gaze elsewhere. His jawbone flutters as he struggles to figure out what words to string together next. This isn’t easy for him—being here with his tail tucked between his legs.

“It is no way easy for me to ask you of this…I know we have not spoken for some time.”

“Really? You think so? I would say it has been a little more than ‘some time’, no?” Zu’té’s irritation is shining through now.

“Agreed.” Ralak speaks sharply, dropping his head, gaze piercing into his own feet. He swallows and sighs once more, finally lifting his head to look his brother in the face. "I need your help, brother."

“Hm.” Zu’té scoffs, meeting his stare flagrantly. “Let me get this right. You come here, wake me out my sleep, speak to me like this for the first time in over forty-eight seasons…and demand my help?”

“You are the only one I trust with this.” Ralak grinds out the words, they are hard to admit.

This quietens Zu’té, causing his features to soften and his fixed stare to falter. To hear this after twelve years, straight from his brother’s mouth has him a little taken aback. There’s only one thing that it could mean—that could bring the golden child before him, begging for a favour.

War.

“What does our ‘mighty’ olo’eyktan have you up to now, baby brother?” Zu’té’s tone is especially sardonic when speaking of their father-figure.

“Plenty.” Ralak chuckles quietly, shaking his head in amusement. His curved lips fade into a thin line, returning his grim expression when he’s reminded yet again of his exact reason for being here. “Look…” Ralak exhales, “...it is nowhere likeable for me to show my face like this. Trust me, I have thought of every possible solution. But…" he shakes his head, hesitant to share what he must say next. "My mate...she is pregnant."

Zu’té’ sighs when he realizes the gravity of the situation, eyes narrowing as they look behind Ralak to scan his surroundings. He’s far from all of the neighbouring marui pods, being the last pod along the mangroves. But if someone were nearby, they could eavesdrop with ease.

Zu’té lightly nudges his head, giving Ralak the silent signal to enter his marui. Ralak moves slowly, a little surprised by his change in...heart. Annoyed with Ralak's sluggish movement, Zu’té rolls his eyes.

“What? You expect an invitation?" Zu’té asks the rhetorical question loud and clear, watching in awe as his not-so-little brother stands almost eye to eye with him. "...you've grown."

"Surprised?" Ralak mutters, ears spasming from his brother's comment—shuffling past him.

"Don't get smart with me, little brother." Zu’té snaps with his ears pinned to his skull, automatically slipping back into disciplining his younger brother like he once used to. Ralak fights the smirk pulling at his lips, making his way further into the neat, well-decorated marui.

——

Ralak came home that night, as he does most nights nowadays with a heavy tail and tensed muscles. That night he broke the news that he had no luck with Tonowari. That he remained tied to his duties as a warrior, teacher, hunter and evidently more…that you had no knowledge of.

But he made it clear that none of them came before you—his most important duty of all. He promised not only to your father, but also to you, to put you first, no matter what. That he will do whatever he needs to ensure your safety is never compromised. Even if it means putting his pride aside, and asking for help, as he did that night.

The desire to prepare for your son's arrival grew with each passing day, making you nest like an expecting ikran. You smoked enough meat to last for the next couple months, and gathered as many herbs and fruits that you could manage.

Weaving has been one of your more frequent tasks, making a couple slings and a few more blankets. Ralak was quick to build the cot when he got into a nesting frenzy, too.

But regardless of what your next task was, it was always a little bit harder…a little bit more tiring. Until you were so round and heavy that most of them became unachievable. Your size started to affect you in more ways than just physical. It started to affect you mentally, too. Playing tricks on your mind, making you think negatively about yourself.

And Ralak picked up on that very quickly.

——

As you wait for his return, you give the marui another deep clean. You take small breaks often, sitting down whenever you become short of breath.

Whilst you sweep the patio, you see your mate trudge up the stairs, ears pinned back and exhaustion wrinkled into his forehead. Ralak sees you and wastes no time to take the broom from you and pull you into his chest.

He holds you in silence. Comfortable silence. Savouring how you feel against his body. The thud of your heartbeat, the warmth of your skin. You’re his safe place. His home. As he is yours. His embrace is what you look forward to the most after a long day apart.

Perhaps this is what you both need. A moment of peace and quiet, where your focus is purely on the person in front of you. A break from the mayhem that life can entail, from the pull and push of the rough tides. Serenity. All to be interrupted by Ralak pulling away, holding you by the arms to create some distance between you two.

Furrowed brows and beaded eyes stare back at you when you look at him. He’s staring at you, but not at you. His eyes pierce into your chest, and then peel away to flick down at his stomach. A smile creeps on his face, and a huff of air through his nostrils as he chuckles softly. His gaze finally meets yours, and he lets go of your arms.

“Your milk is in.” He almost whispers, his fingertips grazing against your stomach.

“What?” You breathe, caught off guard to say the least. Your head snaps down, eyes searching every inch of your shawl to find two large, growing wet spots on it. “O-Oh.” You stutter, looking back up at him, catching sight of the glistening liquid on his stomach. “Oh.”

Your cheeks grow hot when blood rushes to them from embarrassment. Just another thing pregnancy has bestowed upon you. “Sorry, Lak.” You turn to reach for the nearby cloth that hangs by the window.

“What for?” He asks innocently—a little confused.

He watches as you wipe him down in an almost frantic manner. He stills your movements by grasping your wrists, causing you to drop the cloth. He brings your hands to his lips.

“Mawey [Calm]. Nothing to be ashamed of.” He speaks into the palm of your hands. You hear his words, but you still can’t bring yourself to look at him. “Hey.”

He lets go, and cups your cheek, urging you to look at him. When you finally do, he’s smiling down at you, allowing his hand to slip down to the bow of your shoulder—his fingers hooking underneath the hem of your shawl. “Let me clean you up, hm?”

“Oh—okay.” You stutter shyly, feeling his fingers slip under the woven fabric to slip it off your shoulders. “W-Wait.”

And when the material hits the floor, a shiver shakes your spine. Your breasts are exposed to the cool air, sticky nipples hardened into peaks for him to see. They’ve darkened in colour, and are even a little more puffy too.

Honestly, you weren’t the biggest fan of them anymore. You wore thicker tops or shawls to conceal them, just as you did your stomach with your new…stripes. But Ralak loves them, always stealing a glance at every given chance.

But to know that they’re full with milk makes him feel…on edge.

His eyes bore into them, unapologetically taking in every detail. His smile falls into a slight smirk, which then droops into a thin line. His jaw flutters as he grits his teeth, biting back his urges.

“Don’t stare.” You whisper shyly, covering your chest with one arm and your belly with the other. He looks at you, and reaches for your arms, peeling them away from your body.

“Beautiful.” He states as a fact, intertwining his fingers with yours. “So beautiful, carrying my child.”

“‘m really not.” You mumble, looking away in shame. You feel his hand move to your face, two fingers tugging at your jaw to have you look up at him. When you finally give in to his nudges, you see the look on his face. It was as if you had deeply and personally offended him.

“You are.” He insists softly.

You simply shake your head, arms instinctively wrapping around your chest and belly once more. “I don’t feel it. I don’t even know how you can look at me and say that.”

Ralak almost feels angered by your words. It hurts him to hear you speak of yourself in such a way, especially when it’s far from the truth. If anything, he’s even more attracted to you. Knowing that this is what your body is going through to bring his child into the world has made him even more appreciative of you.

“Never say such things.” He husks firmly, removing your hands from your body and keeping them in his grasp. “Do not hide.”

“You have barely touched me.” You retaliate, voice cracking with hurt.

“Not for that reason.” He’s quick to cut you short, making sure you know that the last thing stopping him from pouncing on you every chance he gets is the way you look. Absolutely not.

“If that’s what you need to tell yourself, then—”

Frustrated, Ralak shoves your hand onto his loincloth, pressing it firmly against the bulge that strains against the material. “You feel that?”

You do, you feel every inch of it, hard and warm against your palm. Your face heats up even more, cheeks staining a bright red. Your breath turns raggedy as you struggle to find the words to say.

“Hm?” He grunts as he presses himself even harder against the palm of your hand.

“Y-Yes.” You stutter. Ralak turns you around, pressing himself into you from behind. His heated lips are flush against your ear, hot breath prickling your skin.

“This is what you do to me.” Ralak husks into the shell of your ear, grinding his bulge into the swell of your ass. “Day after day.” He groans almost painfully, filled with all sorts of emotions. He holds you firm against his body, grazing his bottom teeth against the lobe of your ear. “All it takes is a single glance.” His words have your clit pulsing under your tewng and your thighs rubbing against one another. “The sight of you…of your swollen breasts… your swollen womb…” he hisses, on edge and high strung as he caresses your belly, “…it makes me lose myself.”

“Fuck.” You breathe, reaching behind you to tug his loincloth down in a frantic manner. You feel his lips nibble and nip at the skin behind your ear, making their way down the back of your neck. You can’t help but moan from the feeling, your already stiff nipples tingling from his gentle touches.

You feel his hands wander over your stomach and under your tewng, his fingers fondling your folds as he gently parts them. He grunts against your neck, inhaling your scent deep in his lungs as his hips stutter into you. Your stickiness coats his fingers as they slip and slide over your hardened nub.

You tug even harder at his loincloth, struggling to get the annoying thing off him. You let out a frustrated grunt, and he lets loose an amused chuckle, peppering soft kisses down to the bow of your shoulder.

“What is it? Need me to take you right here?” He husks low, voice muffled by his continuous kisses. “…where someone may see?”

Right, you’re on the patio.

Out in the open, under the light of the moon. Ralaks marui pod is far from the village on a cul de sac. The only thing further than here is sand, open water and a couple smaller islands off in the distance. However, there' is's always the slim chance of a na’vi or two going for a late night swim or on a romantic adventure far from the village.

But you simply didn’t care.

If anything it only riles you up more—the riskiness of it all, the thought of being caught. The need to be sneaky and quiet, when all you want to do is moan his name until your voice goes dim. It seems that Ralak feels similarly as you feel him throb against you, excited to take you where you stand.

“I don’t mind.” You huff shakily, finally tugging the cloth down enough for his cock to spring out. “Do you?”

You feel him smile against your shoulder when you grip it in your hand, smooth teeth bumping into your skin as his free hand cups your full breast.

“Not at all, my tanhì.” He breathes, gently kneading the soft flesh, feeling the trickle of your milk flow over the back of his hand.

“Good.” Your lungs tremble beneath his touch, hand desperately stroking his length. Yet he remains gentle with his touches, pinning your clit between his two fingers as he rubs you slowly. “Then hurry…I need you inside.”

Ralak quickly moves his kisses back up your neck, and you feel the tip of his tongue tickle the lobe of your ear before he suckles on it lightly. Tingles ripple up your spine, sending your head into a shiver as you lean into his mouth. His fingers dip into your soaking core just as he rolls your tender nipple between his other two digits.

It’s all too much. All-consuming. Making you gasp for air in lungs that won’t seem to fill. Fog clouds your head. How did you get here? How did this happen? Fuck, it doesn’t matter. Not when you feel like this.

You’re already so sensitive as it is, so tender and delicate, like silk under his fingers. He pushes his two fingers even deeper inside your aching pussy, curling them and earning a whimper from your lips and quiver of your tail.

“Not too loud, oeyä sevin muntxate [my pretty/beautiful wife]”. Ralak whispers the hushed praise, knowing it’s what you need to hear.

You’re so much warmer around his fingers than usual, so much softer. Wetter. With each curl of his digits comes out a squelch as he works you open for his cock that he’s been dying to plunge inside you.

You wrap your leg around his, perching your heel on the side of thigh as you lean all your weight back into him. He steadies his knees, supporting you with ease. Your head slumps back into his shoulder, opening up your neck to his hot breaths, an arm reaching behind you to fist his hair.

His brows are tense and his breath is heavy. He’s overcome with arousal and he can’t keep his composure as your scent grows stronger now your throat is directly under his nose. Truthfully it’s been too long, he knows that. He knows he’s been too protective, too cautious. Depriving you and him of the touch that’s necessary between a mated pair.

His fingers slip out of you, now expertly unravelling the loose knot just barely keeping your tewng on you. As it drops to the floor his fingers are back where they were, rubbing sloppy circles into your clit before spreading your pussylips apart. His hips stutter as he attempts to align the crown of his cock with your slit and finally buck forward when he senses your little, exposed hole.

His cock sinks inside you at an achingly slow pace—inch by inch. You let loose a lengthy moan when you feel him fill you completely, no longer caring if anyone hears you.

“Hnng—I missed you.” The gruff words slip out as he bottoms out inside your cunt. He has longed to feel your gummy walls squeeze oh-so tightly around his cock. “You alright?” He checks on you in a daze, voice thick with want—with the desire to pummel your little pussy until your voice is hoarse. But the last thing he wants is to hurt his heavily pregnant mate.

“Mhm, ple-ase.” You purr with need, closing your eyes and relaxing completely into him. Trusting someone this much feels too good. Ralak moves slowly, pumping his cock in and out of you in a languid haze, tickling your sensitive clit with just the tips of his fingers.

“Tanhì—haah—you are squeezing me so tight.” Ralak moans as his strokes grow with intent. His hips roll deep, shoving and forcing his cock inside your sensitive cunt until his swollen balls kiss your clit.

He’s unapologetically coaxing out the orgasm you’ve been denied for so long with only a few lazy thrusts. And he knows it. He can feel it from the way you clench around him. From the way your thighs tremble a little more after each deep stroke…from the sweet, filthy noises that shamelessly drip from your lips.

“Oh my—Ralak! I-I’m gonna—” You sputter the words between choked sounds, eyes welling with tears from the burn between your legs.

“I know, I know.” He huffs, dragging his hot tongue along the length of your throat. The truth is, he’s close too. But he can’t allow himself to finish inside you. He can’t risk letting himself go and pounding recklessly into your poor, tender pussy. He’s already had a long day. “Let it out, tìyawn [love].”

Its almost cathartic.

Weeks of pent up frustration released in a few minutes, leaving you near convulsing in his grip. You can’t stop the flutter of your pussy walls if you try, it’s out of your control, much like the surge of white fire going right through you. Your legs fight to stay open and you hold onto your mate to keep you standing. Gurgled noises spill from your lips as your body shudders under him. His hips still, keeping his cock buried to the hilt inside your quivering cunt as he holds you tight, supporting you until you finish riding out your high.

“Good girl. Good girl.” He praises you in a hushed, shaky voice, extremely wound up from feeling you flourish so beautifully under his touch. It's a miracle that he didn't empty himself inside you right then and there.

“But you—but you haven’t—” You sputter, collapsing into him as your legs give out.

“I know. It is alright..” He hums, carefully leading you inside the marui to lay you on the bed.

“Thought you were c-cleaning me u-up. Not mak-king m-more of a mess.” Your breath is relentlessly hitching as you watch him hastily remove his tewng that’s been digging into his thighs. A reminder of exactly how quickly things happened.

“You are right.” Ralak tsks, cocking a brow as he stares down at you with a predatory leer. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

Ralak situates himself between your legs, crouching over you, ensuring there’s plenty of space between him and your stomach. His cock presses between your sticky folds as his lips press against your clammy neck. He tastes the faint saltiness of the thin film of sweat on your skin as he drags his lips down your chest—between your breasts.

“Lak…” You whisper, back bowing against the bed.

You’re way too sensitive right now, like an exposed nerve. His eyes snap up and lock with yours, responding to you moaning his name. His tongue darts out, sampling a taste of the spilled milk on your breast. Then his eyes slam shut, tensed brows and scrunched nose telling you that he’s unsure of the flavour in his mouth.

Eyes widening, you’re taken aback by his actions, feelings of shyness and embarrassment creeping back in. Fisting his hair, you pull gently at his head to pry him off your chest, only for him to resist your tugs.

“You shouldn’t have done—why’d you do—” You struggle to find the right words at this moment, flustered and nervous that he’d do that.

But what leaves you even more speechless is when he opens his eyes to reveal dots for pupils, a look you only see when he’s high strung. And then he eagerly takes your nipple into his mouth, latching on and ensuring the suction is airtight. The tip of his tongue flicks at your hardened nipple a few times before he gently suckles at your breast.

A tingling sensation radiates your chest and you feel it in the pit of your stomach. Your breath catches in your throat, a little surprised by his lewd behaviour. And soon, all you can hear are the repeated, muffled gulps of your warm milk flowing down his throat.

“W-What are yo-ou d-doing, my love?” You mewl, squirming underneath him from the strange feeling. He unlatches harshly with an audible pop, leaving your pointed nipple misshapened and exposed.

“Cleaning you.” He huffs quickly as he catches his breath, diving back in to lap up the milk leaking from your other neglected breast. Your head throws back in what is undeniably pleasure now, legs tightening around his waist. You look down in a daze, watching him feast greedily, feeling his hips begin to stammer against you.

“Fuck—I didn’t know this i-is what you meant.” You’re finally calming down from your orgasm now, already feeling your body gearing up to have another. His desperation is pungent. Evident in the way his cock grinds between your soft, slippery folds, scenting your cunt with it.

He pulls off you with yet another pop, his tongue swiping his bottom lip so not to let the bead of milk dripping off of it go to waste. He’s huffing and puffing against you, trailing his wet kisses down your curved stomach as he tucks your legs back. You feel his hot breath against your thighs and your legs tremble in anticipation.

“Kalin, kalin [sweet, sweet].” He mumbles, kissing your pulsing clit. “Oeyä kalin [My sweet].”

“Oh shit.” You let loose the breathy curse when you feel his lips pucker around your over sensitive nub, and squeal when he begins to suck on it too. Your hands fly to his head, grasping at his hair to shove his face further into your cunt. He devours you with exhilaration, lapping at your leaking slit to savour your sweetness.

His cock is aching now. He’s so hard it’s painful. He can’t stop throbbing and his cock strains so hard it’s swollen. He wants to shove himself back inside you— your warmth—and hump at you until his marked you with his essence.

He can’t help but touch himself as he pleasures you. Stroking his cock with every lick of your pussy. Thrusting into his hand when he feels you throb against his tongue. He’s groaning and grunting into your cunt, urgently chasing his own release as he sucks on you for his own pleasure.

Too busy to realise that you’ve been begging him to slow down a bit. That you’re too sensitive. That you feel like you may explode if he continues.

“Ralak! I just came! F-Fuck—” You yank his head away, hurriedly rubbing at your sore pussy.

Ralak pants for air, pulling back into a standing position to reveal that he’s been fucking his hand this entire time. It’s glossy with his precum as it dribbles down his strake. He’s frantically stroking himself, staring brazenly down at your pussy—taking in how it’s flushed and swollen, glistening with his spit and your slick. It’s a delicious sight, tempting him to go in for another taste.

He’s close and you can tell, his hips are stuttering erratically and he’s groaning like a dying man. You sit up slowly, bringing yourself to your knees as you shuffle your way closer to him. Your chest is level to his cock and you cup your full breasts with both hands, pushing them together only inches away from him.

He seems a little confused, unsure of what your next move may be. Fuck, you aren’t even sure of what your next move is. But you’re going with your instinct, pinching your nipples until they begin to leak milk. His brows jump, the sight of that sends his hips stammering into his hand. With each huff and thrust sends his cock a little closer to you, until his swollen cockhead is poking at your breasts.

You shuffle a little closer, moaning softly from watching him get off like this. Then you feel his sticky cock slip in between your breasts, and his hand falls to your shoulders.

Now he’s fucking your tits in a frenzy, his leaking tip prodding at your lips. You stick your tongue out for a taste, allowing his cockhead to slip and slide against it. He’s groaning and moaning, eyes fixed in the sight beneath him. The pressure from his fat cock between your breasts only makes you leak even more, and that’s when he loses it completely.

“Oh, fuck.” He growls, thrusting hard enough to shove his cockhead into your mouth. You feel him throb violently against your tongue, his thick, hot load coating your cheeks until they're full to the brim. He pulls out as soon as he realises what he’s down, immediately reaching for your bedside bucket to spit in.

But you shake your head, glossy eyes staring up at him as you swallow his cum with a singular, loud gulp. His eyes bulge, his hands flying to cup your cheeks as he quickly searches your eyes. You simply smile, using a thumb to swipe the single bead of cum on your chin and pop it into your mouth.

Features softening, he returns the smile, chest heaving wildly as it swells with pride.

——

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mythrilthread · 3 months

Text

My magnum opus, the jewel of my Binderary round-up, the result of four months of hard work (that is to say, a lot of force applied over distance), the project affectionately known as The Motherfuckers (because it was rather unclear if I was going to finish these books or if they were going to be the end of me).

Force over Distance by cleanwhiteroom. It is currently also on AO3.

I was first introduced to this incredible story by a dear friend, who first sold me on actually watching SGU, and then said that they remember this fic since like 2011, which is always a promising sign. I went digging and found out I was in luck - the story was being rewritten and reuploaded on the author's blog. The next two weeks are described by the same friend as "one of the scariest moments in our cohabitation" as I'd spent literally every waking moment injecting the story directly into my eyeballs, and let me tell you, I'd not been doing a lot of sleeping at that time.

Then I gathered up my courage and reached out to CWR re: my burning desire to bind this story. And the rest, well. Let's dig into it, shall we?

This was my first time typesetting 540k words. Considering I tend to prefer larger font sizes for increased legibility, it was immediately obvious that this was going to be a multivolume project. I settled on three, as it's the relationship between three individuals that forms the core of the story.

I also knew I wanted to keep the typeset in black and white, but play around with light and dark a lot. So I did. One of the first design idea I actually had was the way I wanted to handle projected speech. Mental link between Young, Rush and Destiny is THE most vital part of the story, and I wanted to make it immediatly obvious. I also wanted to be able to take one glance at the page and tell how much of the action is actually just two guys staring each other down :) Hence the blackout effect of thoughts being represented as light over darkness.

I also wanted to preserve as much of my reading experience as possible. So I saved all the chapter quotes/summaries in the TOC, and hid the chapter content warnings in the frame of the gate that marks the beginning of each chapter. For most of the chapter the warnings stay the same, so after a while you stop really noticing them, but then you open a new chapter and see that the familiar shape of the words has changed, and get this UH-OH feeling. Which, I think is very much how it works in my design, because when the warnings change there's usually another line of text added.

For flashbacks and dream sequences I switched from italics to a lighter shade of gray. I woudn't say it's more legible per say, but it's in keeping with the overall light/dark theme.

There are instances of people using handwritten notes in the story. I collected more than a dozen of assorted handwriting fonts, with each character having their own "handwriting". So when, for example, someone begins writing in someone else's hand, you immediately know it.

The most insane, labor-intensive part of the typeset, however, was the way I decided to handle the Ancient translations. CWR's gone through the trouble of setting up hover-to-discover for it, which gives you a very different reading experience than, say, having the translations in the endnotes. So, naturally, I said to myself that I want to replicate that, and footnotes just won't do the trick. So. Every instance of Ancient in the text has an underlay of light gray Ancient script. And an OVERLAY of paper vellum with the translation printed in blue. Now, not to toot my own horn too much, but if looks SICK AS FUCK. You also MAYBE SHOULD NOT LIVE LIKE THIS. For the two copies of this work I had to cut up 10 sheets of vellum into strips, and then spent from 20 minutes to an hour per volume tipping the strips in their proper places. I then had to wear kinetic tape on both my hands to help with the joint pain. (It was worth it.)

Now for the title spread. It is also paper vellum that you see as soon as you turn the first page (the half-title), and see it covering the title of the book and author's name. And then you turn it. And the shields sing the matter wave of Destiny through the black. And yeah, I think that's very, very clever of me, actually.

Then, of course, were the endpapers. All 12 of them are unique abstract paintings done on black cardstock by hand with brush pens and correction tape, I scanned a sample of each set for posterity. All of them are my interpretations of characters' midscapes. For volume 1 I went with the fire wind of Rush's thoughts. Volume 2 was for Young, and I went for the reverse blackout poetry effect (because for all the mental talking they do, the unprojected thoughts are opaque to their counterparts) and all the loops, hairpins and blocks he does. Volume 3 is for the combination - Rush's fire wind, changing its color to match the circuitry pattern of Destiny's AI.

The rest, in comparison, is easy. All volumes are stitched with 3 strands of embroidery floss, a combination of black, blue and silvery-gray. The French double-core endbands are sewn in the same color scheme (though with a different shade of blue and gray switched for white for added contrast). The edges are painted and splattered to look like space.

The covers feature my (signature at this point, I guess) half-cloth river pattern, with the base being dark blue linen and the printed parts being Spitzer telescope images of the W51 star forge, Jack-O'-Lantern Nebula and the Eagle Nebula (courtesy of NASA), waxed by hand for added sheen. The spines are foiled in silver with a foil quill.

Each set is 5 pound of solid hand-crafted book, with one set being my personal copy, and the other sent as a gift to the author.

And that's it, folks! This has been an incredible project to work on, and I'm very proud of what I achieved with it.

#mythril thread books #bookbinding #ficbinding #fanbinding #binderary2024 #stargate universe #sgu #force over distance #stargate

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bonefall · 2 months

Text

Clear Sky Killed Bumble; Gray Wing's Desperate Defense

The "analysis" I've seen out there is beyond bananas. We are out there on state-of-the-art exploratory vessels, sailing the 7 seas into brand new lands, discovering new kinds of fruits to compare to the absolute lack of sanity people are displaying.

Clear Sky definitively killed Bumble. Gray Wing does not want to believe reality.

While some try to argue this death down to "negligent homicide," that Clear Sky essentially beat her unconscious and left her in an unsafe area where she got killed, that's so unlikely I'm confident in saying it's wrong. The evidence shows that Clear Sky tormented her to death with a ferocious, sadistic beating which caused her to bleed out, which is second degree murder, and used the smell of a fox and Gray Wing's blind adoration to lie his way out of consequences.

There's not a lot of ambiguity in the evidence that is presented. There is fox scent but no fox bites, and the preceding chapter provides a comparison between the wounds on Misty vs the wounds on Bumble. Clear Sky's story is so convoluted that not a single part of it makes any sense. Quite frankly it's only been topped recently by the "I can confirm this woman is evil because she snored her evil plans in their sleep" fib of ASC.

In either case, Gray Wing believes neither. He does not believe this is Clear Sky's kill in any way.

This moment is an excellent example of how Gray Wing continuously prevents anyone from taking any action against his dear brother's violence until it is too late. By convincing the moor cats to all calm down when they're rightfully furious, and treating the lives and perspectives of native cats as lesser, Gray Wing becomes complicit in some of the harm this tyrant manages to carry out.

To shield a person from the consequences of their own actions is enabling, regardless of if it's direct or indirect, wittingly or unwittingly.

We are going to go over the whole of the 26th chapter of DOTC Book 2: Thunder Rising, from Bumble's death scene to Gray Wing's downplay of it. A meticulous, step-by-step analysis.

Leading-up context

The Scene

The Immediate Response

Incredible suggestions that have been made that I had to read with my own eyes

Leading-up Context

Let's start from square one by introducing the cast, with the assumption you have not read DOTC or are just vaguely aware of it due to its reputation.

Bumble is a kittypet who regularly visits the woods without issue. She is a small supporting character in the first book, The Sun Trail, whose purpose is mostly to be a friend to Turtle Tail, who is the future wife of the main POV character, Gray Wing.

As the two girls become closer friends, Gray Wing becomes more controlling of Turtle Tail and more hostile towards Bumble. This culminates in Turtle Tail leaving "The Settlers" to live with her friend over the winter. All is idyllic until the humans adopt a third cat, known to the fandom as Tom the Wifebeater because of what happens next in Book 2; Thunder Rising.

Turtle Tail becomes pregnant, but notices that her roommates are keeping some kind of secret. She begs Bumble until she reveals that humans tend to take kittens away when they're old enough to be weaned. Turtle Tail leaves to return to the wild, and Tom the Wifebeater begins methodically torturing Bumble over the next month as punishment, leaving scratches, bruises, and "dried blood" all over her when the humans are not looking.

When Bumble tries to seek help from the moor cats, Gray Wing is frustrated that the battered woman has interrupted his walk with his new wife. It is stressed that Gray Wing hates her for taking his love interest away, and he believes she is too fat and clumsy to live in the wild. The leader of the moor cat settlers, Tall Shadow, has a hard time throwing Bumble out, until two outsiders, Wind and Gorse, who are trying to get accepted into this group themselves, take the initiative and drag Bumble back to her domestic abuser.

Gray Wing is biased against Bumble. This is a fact. He explicitly does not like her.

Shortly afterwards, the forest cat settlers, led by Gray Wing's brother Clear Sky, experience a fire and begin to expand their borders. They are already known as a violent group, their leader is a manipulative liar, and Gray Wing himself was once viciously mauled as Clear Sky sat by and watched.

Yes, Gray Wing is aware that Clear Sky sat there and watched, too. He called out to him and Clear Sky did nothing as Fox, a man who knew full well that this cat was his leader's brother, was shredding him.

Gray Wing doesn't want to believe his brother is a bad person. This is also a fact. He explicitly feels guilty when he has thoughts otherwise.

On-screen, through the POV of Gray Wing's nephew Thunder, we see a native woman named Misty slaughtered by Clear Sky for her land. Her children are taken, and her body lays unburied and rotting for two days before Wind Runner and Gorse Fur (sporting new names at the request of the moor cats) find her.

They describe the wounds they found on the corpse in detail and make an accusation,

Now, before this point, Wind Runner and Gorse Fur have been doing everything in their power to endear themselves to this group. Gray Wing himself trusted them, because they've taught him methods for living here, caught and shared food, and even saved the life of his other brother, Jagged Peak, when a burrow collapsed on him.

But now his xenophobia towards them is coming back-- because they're calling for action against his brother. He's only ever uneasy about them when they seem to have an ounce of influence over his group.

Turtle Tail's conclusion is completely sound, and if it hadn't been for someone else, would be correct. Clear Sky DID move to kill the children-- he was stopped by his underling, Petal. Turts was able to understand what Clear Sky was going to do without seeing it firsthand.

The crowd is shocked and furious, for logical reason. They ARE in danger. Clear Sky IS escalating his violence and expanding his territory. It's starting with the native population, and the moor cats are able to understand and predict what will happen next.

Except Gray Wing.

The Scene

While investigating ONE confirmed murder, as there is no reason to doubt Wind Runner and Gorse Fur except for conveniently xenophobic ones, and TWO suspected murders of children, the patrol hears the sudden shriek of a cat in pain.

Bumble is found bleeding to death on a previously unclaimed patch of land, at the very center of a circle of trampled grass. There is the reeking smell of fox, and under that, there is the scent of Clear Sky.

Her wounds are described in great detail,

Completely consistent with the way that the wounds were described on Misty. Nearly word-for-word.

The only evidence of fox is the smell. No one heard it bark, there is no note of it bounding off, there are no bites or wounds consistent with those of a canid. They were described exactly the same as Misty's.

Slits are cat claw wounds. Not fox bite wounds. She was not being bitten, she was cut all over her body, prominently down her belly and sides.

Unless this fox shapeshifted into a cat and then meticulously created wounds consistent with the ones left on Misty, Clear Sky did this.

Where did the fox go? Probably came to investigate, maybe licked at the bloody cuts expecting a meal, and then was scared off by Bumble suddenly waking up and screaming. It's possible, but unlikely that the patrol's clamor scared it off, considering they didn't see or hear any fox noises.

There are also signs of a struggle-- and Bumble was not able to fight in the condition she is currently in. It's most likely it was the struggle from when she was being tormented and trying to get away, unless there was a fight with a fox while Bumble was still unconscious and she was dragged to the middle of it, for some reason.

However, a fight with a fox is still unlikely, as the patrol was able to hear the whimpering of a cat in pain as they approached but not the furious sounds of a battle with a large predator. If there was this whole epic brawl with a fox that trampled the grass around Bumble, why was there only a single shriek?

Gray Wing, expert on the smell of Clear Sky's armpit, confirms it's his brother. His whole world spins when he realizes his Dear Brother is involved in this, feeling horror and disbelief.

(Also note that Gray Wing implies Clear Sky's involvement is the prophetic bad thing his adopted son mentioned in the previous chapter, not the shredded woman dying in front of him lol)

The rest of the group is able to acknowledge reality, coming to the obvious conclusion. Clear Sky is expanding his territory, including the very patch they're standing on. He has been violent in the past, even against other settlers. Misty was slaughtered in a way consistent with the victim dying in front of them, so he is killing cats who stand in his way. Gray Wing's immediate, literally DESPERATE response is first to jump to Clear Sky's defense.

Gray Wing asks Bumble directly if it was a fox, and she is too weak to answer... until she finds the strength, as a domestic abuse victim, to blame herself for the way a cat beat her bloody. She thinks it's her fault for hunting here, because she was hungry, not thinking straight, and stupid.

I have seen this described as Bumble "making a defense of Clear Sky." I will leave it up to you, the reader, to determine if this sounds like Bumble is trying to say he's not guilty of hurting her or if it's the sort of infamous self-blame that domestic violence victims lapse into after a furious thrashing.

When Clear Sky returns to the scene of the crime, he cuts her off while admitting he did assault Bumble, then glares at everyone to challenge a fight.

Gray Wing swoons over him like he always does.

I have heard it said, without examples, that this is normal because this happens all the time in Warrior Cats. That it's a normal thing to be standing next to a domestic abuse victim who is bleeding out and watch her murderer daring all of your friends to do something about it, and admire how brave he is. That, again, without any examples, this is just something that every character does when the Villain of the Week exists in front of them, so it's not even special that it was Gray Wing's first response.

If you believe that, I have a bridge in London to sell you.

Desperation is under all of Gray Wing's feelings which immediately follow. His voice "cracks" when he has to ask if his darling brother did this. He wants to scream when he takes his sweet time answering. He shrinks under Clear Sky's gaze, because he reads that he's "accusing him of betrayal."

But somehow, that FIRST response for him to fawn over his brother is not part of that, because in unquoted books of other arcs a hero has admired a villain?? Context doesn't exist because in some other book the same emotion was described maybe. Incredible.

No mention of how casually he brushes off this sight that makes his eyes show "guilt and horror," either. No talk of how he made a little ""joke"" about how no one greeted him nicely at a tortured woman's deathbed. Almost like he was caught red-handed and the wounds don't actually unsettle him as much as the crowd's reaction.

Even the glare-- Clear Sky is trying to get Gray Wing to do his bidding. He wants him to protect him, be his flying monkey, and control his furious people.

So at the next opportunity, Gray Wing jumps to his defense again. Second time in this exchange.

FIRST he was described as "desperate." Now he takes a deep breath and BRAVELY licks that boot.

Turtle Tail steps forward and posits the obvious truth. Clear Sky is going mad with power, doesn't care who he hurts, and is completely capable of doing something like this to Bumble. This was already done to Misty, and even earlier, Clear Sky stood by and watched as one of his minions savaged Gray Wing in a similar way.

The whoooole crowd can see this. It is Gray Wing, and Gray Wing alone, who prevents there from being any consequences for Clear Sky's actions.

He hypocritically believes that attacking Clear Sky for the murder of Bumble would make them all "no better than he is" when he had no qualms about coming to blows over the exile of Jagged Peak much earlier. "Attacking Clear Sky for Murder" is morally equivalent to "Actually Doing Murder."

This is only for Bumble though, a "foreign" woman he does not like. He did not believe this for Jagged Peak, and he will not believe it later when he watches Clear Sky strangle Rainswept Flower to death. They are worth physical consequences.

He even physically shields him.

"he stepped between Clear Sky and his own cats, not sure which of them he was trying to protect." It's Clear Sky. Bumble's life means nothing to Gray Wing, so he is trying to protect Clear Sky from the fury of the angry mob he has earned by killing her and Misty.

He CANNOT let there be any doubt. Not even from himself. His brother must be protected at all costs. To that end, he is trying to make some kind of opportunity for Clear Sky to escape accountability.

If you are "neutral" in the conflict between victims and their abuser, you have taken the side of the abuser. If you provide opportunities for a perpetrator to escape accountability, you are an enabler. If you allow a suspect to escape the scene of a crime, since every cat in these books seems to be a lawyer the minute anyone wants to react to violence, you could be charged with accessory fleeing and eluding-- a felony.

Before you try to say this is all in the noble pursuit of peace, let's not be dense.

DOTC is not committed to non-violence for any other tyrannical leader. Especially not One Eye, even believing that an underhanded ambush that breaks the terms of a duel Clear Sky set is the good and righteous thing to do. Killing him was the correct action, as it was with Slash in Riverstar's Home. Outside of DOTC this logic is casually applied to Brokenstar, Tigerstar, Scourge, Hawkfrost, Darktail, and Ashfur-- with only Leopardstar and Blackstar being "exempt" for following an evil ringleader.

Gray Wing himself has no moral dilemma about One Eye or Slash, either. Nonviolence is not his goal.

It is Clear Sky, and Clear Sky alone, who the narrative of DOTC will conclude "deserved" a million second chances. That torturing Bumble to death, slaughtering Misty for her land, and countless offscreen cases of attacking natives didn't push him past the "fundamentally evil" threshold into an irredeemable monster, as is the case with Slash and One Eye later in this arc.

The difference between Clear Sky and DOTC's other two tyrants, to me, is obvious. Clear Sky is the POV's brother and a member of the in-group of The Settlers. The lives of his victims, as mostly "foreigners" and entirely women, are worth very little to the notoriously xenophobic and misogynist writing team.

If the moor cats had shredded Clear Sky right here and now, dozens of lives would have been saved. The First Battle wouldn't have happened. Justice would have been served for Bumble, regardless of if the cause of death was 2nd degree murder or negligent homicide. He wouldn't have smacked and beaten any of his other victims.

Gray Wing prevents this, giving Clear Sky an opportunity to tell a lie.

(He even whines about the idea of Wind Runner challenging Clear Sky about boundaries, the whole thing that started this incident in the first place. This is the perfect time to start arguing about boundaries, actually, when he's in the middle of establishing new ones.)

In the past, I'd been too charitable to this exchange. This lie is obscene and anyone who believes it is ignorant. No frills, no bells, you either can't think critically or just didn't want to so Clear Sky can be innocent or Gray Wing can seem "reasonable."

Clear Sky's visibly eager to start his story, "glad of the chance" now that he's had time to concoct a story. He could have explained earlier but didn't, sizing the group up and glaring at his brother to crack a whip, asking if they believed he was capable of it, so he could gauge what he can get away with.

"New part of my territory" = Freshly annexed land he has violently conquered, confirming the patrol's fears of expansion.

"I wanted to give her a warning, just a little cuff" = No one leaves his territory gently. Confirmation he thrashed her, downplay of how severe.

"How was I to know she would faint?" = Bumble is visibly emaciated, and he's blaming her for not being able to stay conscious through the whole beating.

"I could see her paws twitching, and I knew she would come around" = He would not care, Misty's body was unburied for two days.

"So I left" = Leaving Count: 1

Pauses, wincing, because this is another act. Every time he's putting on a little show for other cats, he takes dramatic pauses and plays up his pain and regret. Seen earlier in this book.

"But heard a fox bark" = no barking was heard by the patrol, only a cat's shriek.

"And ran back" = Was apparently so close that he could hear barking the patrol didn't, but so far away that a fox had time to cut her to ribbons, AND this was so long ago the patrol wasn't close enough to hear the fight? Returning Count: 2

"But I was too late" = Wounds inconsistent with fox attack. Leaving Count: 2

"I was going to get help" = There is no medic in proto-SkyClan. When Jagged Peak broke his leg, they had to borrow Dappled Pelt. What help? Who?? Even as he says this, Frost's wound is going completely untreated. If Clear Sky was going to get help, why wasn't he telling Cloud Spots to do something when he got back?

"But then I heard you all arrive" = He left to get help but was still close enough to hear running? Just abandoning his noble quest to get that "help" he apparently has? Returning Count: 3

Not a single part of his story adds up. EVERY aspect of it has a problem, in that it's either deceptively worded to downplay his abuse, doesn't line up with who he is, or just doesn't make logistical sense.

It's not JUST a lie, it's a BAD one.

Even worse, Clear Sky is a known liar at this point. He does this when the truth would not benefit him, like earlier in this book when he fibbed to Thunder about why he abandoned him right in front of Gray Wing's face. The story doesn't make sense and there's not even any reason to give him benefit of the doubt, because he is known to be dishonest.

He's offended when Turtle Tail calls him on being full of baloney, and once again shoots a sharp look over to his flying monkey, expecting Gray Wing to dance on command and defend his honor like always.

But Gray Wing seems to be perfectly capable of being "wise" when it would directly benefit Clear Sky.

I have seen the question begged, "if he's such a bootlicker then why he no verbally bootlick a third time in a single exchange?" and I would tell that person to read the text because it says why. Right there. Here, I've underlined it. So you don't miss it again.

If Gray Wing licks that boot again, THIRD TIME, in front of an angry mob who wants to skin Clear Sky alive, they will lose patience and make the clearing look like Bruce's Eating Dome. So he shuts the fuck up and gives his ungrateful brother the chance to indignantly slip away, even though he desperately wants to cry out and tell him how shiny and lickable those boots are.

"What can I say?" Nothing. "I'll only make things worse" Correct. "If I don't let him leave now there will be a fight" im literally just quoting the text verbatim

He is NOT doing this because he does not believe him, NOR because he doesn't want to defend him. It's because this the best way to protect his brother from consequence.

And then Bumble uses her dying breath to apologize for ever hurting her friend, showing Bumble is still just blaming herself for everything, with Turtle Tail still repeating the same malicious excuses that were used to deny her asylum from domestic abuse.

"I wish you could have found happiness, even though I was unwilling to help you. It sucked to learn that our shared wifebeater started wifebeating you, but we didn't want you in our camp so really this was unavoidable."

I've voiced my ire before, gone on long rants about how angry this exchange makes me and even campaigned for more recognition of the misogyny in this subplot. The fact that the last words Bumble hears are just more excuses from a person who could have done something disgust me, and I think I'm right to feel that it's vile that this sits unexamined in a book for young readers. But it doesn't change what happened.

She senselessly died in intense pain and despair, for the crime of existing. All that's left to say is that I wish Bumble could have found a better friend.

But ultimately, Turtle Tail is another woman in the notoriously misogynistic arc of DOTC. She's just a supporting character for Gray Wing's conflict, and he's got some opinions about what, exactly, is making this so sad.

He doesn't give a fuck that this woman he hates has been murdered after slowly starving to death, for months, since he watched her be dragged back to a domestic abuser. She "stole" his romantic interest for a few months, after all.

It's stressed he "never especially liked Bumble" at her deathbed. It's not JUST "the death of a kittypet," a group of people he is bigoted against. It's about his piece of shit brother.

It's about how HIS REPUTATION HAS BEEN TARNISHED.

"It changes the way my cats think of Clear Sky," THAT HE IS NOW A KNOWN MURDERER, "and that changes everything" IT'S GOING TO BE A LOT HARDER TO DEFEND HIM NOW

This is completely consistent with Gray Wing's behavior into the rest of the chapter, and even the books beyond.

The Immediate Response

Gray Wing explains what happened to the other moor cats. He has to hide his actual belief that Clear Sky didn't actually do anything wrong so that the moor cats don't dismiss him for the biased, brother-obsessed little minion he is. He admits how he really feels about Bumble's death to Turtle Tail at the very end of the chapter-- so what he says here is a lie.

Not a delusion. A lie. He withheld the full truth of his bias when questioned. If he's honest about his conflict of interest, this group will trust his judgement less. He has a goal; to prevent his cats from retaliating.

Wind Runner is, again, the one who is rallying the other cats into action. She's seeing that Clear Sky is murdering innocent cats, possibly even her friend considering how much she knew about Misty, and that this will only escalate. Gray Wing doesn't like that.

So when Tall Shadow starts suggesting the things he agrees with, like how Bumble's life was less valuable anyway so this is no reason to start a fight with his Dear Sweet Brother, and they should all just sit on their butts until no one's angry anymore, he decides she "deserves" his support.

It's a political move.

"After all, she was only a kittypet... omg why are you so mad?? I didnt mean it like that, all im saying is that we should just calm down ugh dont be so sensitive" -Tall Shadow, channeling your racist aunt

If Gray Wing can get the other cats to waste their time on useless half-measures, like more patrols or perhaps writing a strongly-worded letter, he can make them feel like they're doing something when they're actually doing jack shit. Wittingly or unwittingly, this is a measure to stall the inevitable, making them miss their chance to strike while the iron is hot.

He's either an idiot or he's subconsciously acting from a place of loyalty to his brother. Bias resembles the former but is born of the latter, and either way the result is the same.

After this, there's a brief conversation where Tall Shadow makes it clear that there is absolutely no reason to be mistrusting Wind Runner. They both agree "when this is all over" she's a good cat to have around-- they just don't seem want to listen to her now, when she wants something done about the sadistic lunatic next door.

Gray Wing's talk of "working together" is laughable. His idea of "working together" includes the cat who just slaughtered two people for existing on his newly annexed land, who long ago stopped listening to reason. Tall Shadow herself starts preening and announces that her response to all this is that Clear Sky must absolutely be stopped by some cat.......................... so she'll think abt it.

tomorrow maybe. we'll put a pin in it. set a little reminder on her phone or something.

(the genius plan she comes up with in the end is a nonsequitor babble about how rocks don't exist to be sat on, so clear sky should just stop conquering all the land or something. he listens intently and then throws her into a tank of piranhas.)

But anyway, it's time to smooth things over with Turtle Tail, who had been struggling with that uncomfortable truth that the moor cats, and Gray Wing specifically, were also culpable in some way for the slow, painful death of Bumble.

He'll fix that with a big display of affection.

"Don't be mad at me it's nobody's fault :) She wouldn't have been able to cope so it's inevitable she wound up dead :) I'm sorry you're hurting bc i like you, not that i give a damn that your friend was shoved into a blender and shredded alive after starving for months :) Thanks to you I am now ready to lead this clan directly off the side of a cliff." -very endearing conversation i assure you

It works because Turtle Tail is not allowed to maintain her own opinions as a girl in DOTC. Obviously. Her husband licks her ears and tells her that he likes her and that's the end of any examination that they have any responsibility here. god forbid she re-examine her feelings towards the writers' favorite in light of how much of an ass he made of himself at her friend's deathbed.

Just in case it slipped your mind though, once again it is made clear that Gray Wing is reacting with leisure because he does not believe (or care) that Clear Sky killed Bumble. No, not even in the negligent homicide sense, that Clear Sky's actions allowed Bumble to die through beating her unconscious and leaving her alone in an unsafe location. He does not think this was something to blame Clear Sky for.

He believes that the fox did it-- he was lying earlier when he said he "didn't know what to believe." He does. He didn't reveal his bias when he was being questioned, because he wants to prevent the moor cats from fighting Clear Sky over Bumble's death.

Also note the sneaky little turn of language Gray Wing makes there. In denial of Turt's claim that "innocent cats are being slaughtered," Gray's counter is Bumble alone before the pivot. The patrol was originally about Misty's murder and her missing kittens as Clear Sky expanded his borders-- but Misty's apparently not an "innocent cat" who's been slaughtered. She's absent from that category, implied to be part of Clear Sky's hypothetical "good reason" for expansion that Gray Wing needs to get to the bottom of.

Bumble's murder is denied. Misty's is implied to just be collateral damage for the unknown plan. He's unbothered about the death of either one.

Gray Wing: "No one else can get to the bottom of this! theres only ME! I AM THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN STOP CLEAR SKY"

Also Gray Wing: (leaps in front of an angry crowd to defend his brother. cries that he doesn't believe hes capable of such terrible violence. actively prevents anyone else from doing anything about him)

Anyone with a vague awareness of DOTC knows how this ends. Gray Wing is going to lead them astray with his bad judgement, so purposefully delusional about his brother that they will have to dig a mass grave at Fourtrees. Gray Wing thinks he's a *~special boy~* who is the only one who can truly get through to his brother, and maybe he is, but not before dozens of people have to suffer and die for it.

This is enabling. To enable is to directly or indirectly support another's harmful actions, such as addiction or abuse. He did it here, both during and after Bumble's death, giving Clear Sky the cover to escape consequences for his actions and halting any attempts to do anything concrete. Because of him, Clear Sky never pays for what he did to her.

In the book 3, Clear Sky denies all wrongdoing, and in Bumble's last mention in book 4, her torture is described in passive voice. A terrible "happening" which seemingly couldn't have been avoided. No one is held accountable. Not the moor cats for turning her away, not Clear Sky for her killing, and even Tom the Wifebeater is redeemed after being given a chance to live in a clan for not being "soft" like his female victim.

All so sweet, beloved little Gray Wing never has to confront that he let a killer get off scot-free because the uncomplicated childhood memory of his brother as a lovely good boy was wrong. That he was so consumed by spite that he smugly watched Bumble get dragged away from the only people who could have helped her. That he was complicit twice.

Incredible suggestions that I have had to read with my own eyes

fucking ✨Bonus Round✨

"If clear sky fought bumble, why bumble leave no scratches?" I'll let you sit there and think about why the DOMESTIC ABUSE VICTIM did not fight back against a large, violent man who was beating her. I'll give you a minute. I'll play some jeopardy music.

"he's quote 'horrified and guilty' at the wounds which means he didn't make them himself" Clear Sky has a repeated habit of "blacking out" when he butchers women (Rainswept Flower, Willow Tail). He's also a liar and an actor, even according to his own account he'd seen these same wounds before when he came back a second time. Most importantly, what fucking part of "horrified and guilty" implies he didn't make those himself, does a toddler not look "horrified and guilty" when it spills chocolate milk on a couch and its parent sees it? Does that mean the toddler didn't do it? If you wouldn't accept this logic for a toddler why the fuck will you accept it for a suspected murderer?

"Maybe Clear Sky fought the fox off?" He doesn't actually say that, it's just implied during his lie when he says he showed up too late, but it's hypothetically possible. Even if he did fight this fox off, he must have still mauled Bumble because she is covered in claw wounds, even if he doesn't remember it because he "blacked out." There's also still the problems of Bumble being in the middle of the trampled grass, the patrol not hearing the sound of battle, his framing that he just tapped her and she passed out, and him apparently running to get help he does not have. Occam's Razor still suggests the solution is that this fox was scared off when Bumble screamed, with Clear Sky just using the convenient smell to lie his way out of consequences

"How'd Clear Sky get fox scent on him?" Probably from showing up to the crime scene that absolutely reeks and prowling around like an axe murderer, which we saw him do. Bumble had no fox bites and no one heard a fight. did you know that if you stand in a sewer you smell like shit

"Gray Wing just doesn't want to think his dear sweet brother could ever do such a thing :("

"What if the Erins are just so incompetent that they created a crime scene completely inconsistent with the very true and real story that Clear Sky told, it just happens to look like a lie on accident, they unwittingly made him a liar earlier in this book because they forgot the events they previously wrote, and don't know anything about a type of predator that appears in nearly every entry of warrior cats and happens to be one of the most popular animals of all time" what if i tripped and fell and a shawarma with extra tahini sauce fell into my mouth, followed by an apple slice, and 3 litres of water. should i continue my fast or has Allah fed me.

All of this is why I am adamant on saying that Clear Sky killed Bumble by beating her to death. In order for this to have been the cause of a fox, you'd have to take a liar at face value and ignore every other detail. That's what Gray Wing does, described on the page as "desperate to believe in his brother's innocence."

Unfortunately, this will also not be the only time that Gray Wing's obsession with his brother and shockingly horrific judgement will put other cats in danger or get them killed. It's just the most deliberate example, and thus imo the most upsetting.

#warrior cats analysis #Bumble #Bumble wc #Dotc analysis #dawn of the clans #dotc hate #clear sky #skystar #gray wing #dotc #Justice for Bumble #Bumble dotc #Gray Wing The Wise

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winterrrnight · 5 months

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“familiar yet unrecognizable faces” — new beginnings chapter III

PAIRING: stepdad!soft!rafe cameron x mom!reader

WARNINGS: mentions of drugs, drug dealing, bruises

EDITH SPEAKS: a character that we absolutely HATE is being introduced in the fic for the very first time 😐 but keeping that aside, you will see why Rafe is at school 🤭🤭 sooo many of you guessed it accurately!!

I hope you enjoy reading!! Please reblog and share all your thoughts 💐

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“Y/n!” Rafe exclaims, his own shock evident in his speech. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s Sage’s first day here,” you say, and Rafe looks above your shoulder to see Sage very carefully inspecting some paint tubes kept next to the rest of the art supplies.

“I’m glad she’s in my class then,” Rafe smiles.

Your eyes widen at his words. “Your class?” You echo, confused. Even though you know exactly what he means, you want to hear it from him.

“I teach this class,” he says, walking inside. You follow him, watching him sit in the teacher’s chair, and he gestures to you to sit opposite him, a wooden table between you two.

“Wow okay,” you chuckle. You look around the classroom, the walls tinted a beautiful sky blue, with birds painted on them. The window shows a view of the carefully curated garden of the preschool.

“What, you didn’t expect me as a teacher?” He asks, a smirk playing on his lips, the table supporting his elbows and his face resting in his hands.

“Honestly? No, not really, but I like it,” you smile, leaning back into your chair and resting your back.

Suddenly you feel your pants being tugged in an all too familiar way. You look down to see Sage, a bright smile on her face.

“Mamma it’s Fafe!” She yells excitedly. You laugh at her words and pull her up into your lap.

“Yes, it’s Rafe baby,” you look up at Rafe to see him with a smile, his eyes softened as he’s looking at the little bundle of joy in your arms.

“Hello Sage, are you excited to be here?” He asks, leaning in closer to her. She nods her head vigorously with excitement, causing Rafe to laugh at her actions.

“Well then why don’t you go sit with the rest of the kids? Your mom needs to do some important work now with me,” Sage hums at his words and jumps down your lap, and rushes to her new classmates.

Rafe opens a folder and hands you a paper and a pen. You look at it to see it’s just some basic paperwork regarding Sage, her name, her birthday, and the rest of the required fields.

“You just need to fill this out and we’re all set,” he tells you and you nod at his words, looking over the empty blanks of the form. You start filling them up, but one column makes you stop.

“Uh Rafe?” You call him out. He’d busy himself with some of his own work. “I uh, I don’t have anything to fill in here,” You say, pointing to one of the blanks on the page.

“Father’s name,” he mumbles, “are you a single mother?”

He had his speculations you were single, but he didn’t want to assume something before he knew something for sure.

“Yeah,” you shy away from his gaze, your eyes settling on your lap, “I’m divorced,”

“Alright, that’s no issue, just,” he takes a pen, “check this box,”

You look at the page to see he’s checked some box regarding single parents.

“Thank you,” you smile, taking the paper back from him and filling the rest of the form.

Once you’re done filling all the paperwork, you get up from your chair to go to Sage. She’s now busied herself with painting, her brush creating random strokes on a white page. You get on your knees in front of her, your hold on her shoulders. “Mamma’s going now, okay? Don’t misbehave,” you say, giving her a stern look.

“I won’t mamma,” she smiles, and gives you a kiss on your cheek.

“I’ll come to pick you up very soon,” you tell her, getting up from the floor.

You turn around to see Rafe leaning next to the wooden table. He has a soft smile on his face, you can’t help but break into a smile yourself.

“I’ll, I’ll see you later,” your gaze has fallen to your shoes as you feel Rafe looking at you. There’s something about his blue eyes which always seem like they are piercing you. The kind of eyes which you ache to look at again just the second you stop looking at them.

The kind of eyes which are too easy to get lost in.

He wishes you well, and you leave the classroom, not knowing his gaze is fixed at you, longing for you.

— —

You’re sitting on your couch with Sage lying on your lap, her eyes closed as she’s lost in a deep slumber. The lights of your living room are dimmed, the bright light of the tv in front of you dances across you. One of Sage’s cartoons is playing, but as she’s drifted off, you switch the channel to the news one.

“Three men caught in exchange of drugs, the heroin weighs to around 15 kilograms,” the reporter on the tv says. A little video pops up next to him, showing three men with their backs towards the camera, and each man is being held by a policeman, their hands locked well in handcuffs.

The camera cuts to their faces, and the reporter continues speaking. “The men have been identified as Bill Anderson, Aaron Simmons, and Adrian Hayes. They have been…”

The voice of the reporter fades out, as you hear the familiar name and see the familiar face.

You only hear a ringing in your ear as you sit up straight, your eyes wide, as you see Adrian with bruises on his face, his hair reduced to a bare minimum, black circles prominent under his eyes, and pale skin to add to it all.

You can’t even recognise him.

This is the same man you gave you Sage.

The same man who once promised to love you for an eternity, but now, you’re seeing him on tv, completely unrecognizable, as he gets caught for drug dealing.

You shake your head, suddenly feeling your throat dry up, your eyes wide and breathing fast. You turn off the tv, not wanting to look at that horror anymore. You had almost forgotten about Sage sleeping in your lap, looking so peaceful as her chest heaves up and down with her deep breaths.

You pick her up in your arms and take her to her room, laying her in her bed. She doesn’t detect any single movement as she continues to sleep relaxedly. You gently kiss the top of her head, smoothing her hair with your hand.

“I’ll always keep you safe baby, always.”

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

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rubycruzin4abruzin · 22 days

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Forbidden Crown: ch. I

Summary: As a princess, your parents choose your spouse, and they decide it’s time to start looking shortly after your fifth birthday. However, when your parents decide to unite kingdoms with Tir Asleen and introduce you to Prince Airk, you’re seemingly more drawn to his twin sister, Kit.

Pairing: kit tanthalos x princess!reader

Contains: fluff, matchmaking, childlike play, kisses to mimic adult behavior, pure innocence

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: Welcome to the first chapter of Forbidden Crown! It’s a coming of age story, so in this chapter, our main characters are five years old, but in the next, they’ll be ten, and so on. Not too much happens in this chapter, but I promise it’ll get a lot juicier later. Enjoy! :)

As a princess, you always knew you wouldn’t get to choose a spouse. Instead, you grew up knowing exactly who you would one day marry.

Your parents, the king and queen of Azarenth, decided it was time to start looking for suitors shortly after you turned five. Their idea was for the two of you to meet frequently, essentially growing up together before tying the knot and officially uniting kingdoms. After some extensive research, your parents discovered a nearby kingdom with a prince around your age. So, they packed your belongings and loaded up the carriage for the journey to the kingdom of Tir Asleen.

Since you were so young, your parents didn’t tell you the exact reason you were visiting this new kingdom; all you knew was that you were going to play with a new friend and that your parents seemed very anxious upon arrival. They had dressed you in your best clothes: a puffy white dress with pink lace ribbons, and were constantly readjusting the bows or smoothing out the fabric. You scowled at all the fuss; you had been on plenty of playdates before and didn't understand why this one was such a big deal.

Stepping out of the carriage, a woman who appeared to be the queen of Tir Asleen greeted you and shook hands with your parents. She introduced herself as ‘Sorsha,’ and wore a wide smile as she spoke in a gentle tone.

“Hello little one,” she bent down to meet you at eye level. “The children are out back in the garden. Why don’t you go play?”

You agreed, happily leaving the adults to chat freely. As you made your way to the garden, you wondered what Sorsha had meant by ‘children.’ Your parents had said that you were here to make one friend, but the possibility of making multiple friends was even more exciting.

Upon reaching the palace garden, you opened the gate and walked in to see only one child, a boy who looked to be around your age. You felt a twinge of disappointment, but quickly hid it after he noticed your presence and flashed you a warm smile.

“Hi,” he greeted. “I’m Airk. Airk Tanthalos. What’s your name?”

You introduced yourself, prompting him to nod in response before speaking again.

“My mom says we’re gonna be friends now. I was just playing hide-n-seek with my sister.”

You perked up at this new information, excitedly anticipating the arrival of more friends.

Airk spun around, calling out to the entirety of the garden. “Kit! Our guest is here!”

No response. Airk sighed. “Kit! Olly olly oxen free!”

Suddenly, a little girl emerged from behind a tree, capturing your attention. She was unlike anything you’d ever seen before. You were taught that princesses should always be proper and ladylike, which Kit certainly was not. Instead, stray hairs clung to her flushed cheeks and hung just above her mouth, dyed purple from grape-juice. Grass and mud stained her tunic, and she wore breeches. You didn’t know girls were even allowed to wear breeches.

As she walked towards you and Airk, you quickly became infatuated with her. She was just so… cool.

Airk turned back towards you, rolling his eyes. “That’s Kit. Don’t mind her. She’s stubborn.”

“Gotta be stubborn when you’re the best hide-n-seeker in all of Tir Asleen.” Kit retorted, sticking out her tongue.

Airk stuck out his tongue back in response before gesturing towards you. “This is our guest. Mom says we’re going to be friends with her now.”

Kit turned towards you, face brightening as if this was the first time she noticed your presence. “Oh you’re the guest. How old are you?”

You shyly held up five fingers, causing Airk to erupt into mocking laughter. “You’re five? I hadn’t realized I was in the presence of a baby!”

Anger bubbled up inside you at his words. You had just met this boy, and he was already not very nice.

“Shut up, Airk!” Kit exclaimed, pushing her brother's head. “If anyone here is a baby it’s you!”

“Nuh-uh! You’re the baby! You’re only six!”

“So are you, idiot!”

“I’m still older!”

“By like, one minute!”

Airk huffed in response, crossing his arms and pouting. Kit flashed you a reassuring smile, and you felt warmth bubbling from inside you. This girl, this cool, older girl, had just stood up for you.

“Do you want to play tag?” Kit asked you. “Airk is awful at tag.”

“Nuh-uh! I’m super fast…”

“I can’t,” you cut Airk off and looked towards Kit regrettably. “I can’t run in this stupid dress.”

You pulled at your outfit, exaggerating your frustration. Kit scrunched up her face, seemingly deep in thought before she jumped up as if a lightbulb went off in her head.

“I’ll be right back,” she exclaimed, before running inside.

Now that you and Airk were alone together, it was almost awkward. You tugged at your dress, while he sat and pulled at the grass.

“I like your dress,” he muttered. “I think it makes you look pretty.”

A blush crept onto your cheeks at the compliment; maybe this boy wasn’t so bad after all. “Thanks.”

Seconds later, Kit came running back out of the castle carrying a garment of some sorts. She slowed to catch her breath as she approached you, proudly holding up the item.

“Breeches,” she explained breathlessly. “Put them on under your dress, then just tuck the skirt in.”

You stared at the garment, turning it over in wonder. “I’ve never had breeches before.”

“Keep them,” Kit replied. “Now you do.”

Your heart swelled at her kind gesture. First the cool girl had stood up for you, and now she was giving you a gift.

After thanking her, you slid the breeches on from underneath your dress, and tucked your skirt into the waistband. The thick fabric of your dress spilled out and bulged against the hem of the pants, sort of making you look like a spinning top, but you didn’t care. You were mobile now, and free to play whatever.

Feeling giddy, and slightly mischievous, you walked up to Kit, giggling behind your hand before slapping her on the shoulder.

“Tag! You’re it!”

You ran away, chuckling loudly as Kit gasped. She narrowed her eyes with an impish grin, feigning displeasure at being “it.”

“I’ll get you for that!”

The game continued with the three of you, but it was mostly you and Kit chasing each other around the garden, giggling until your ribs ached. At one point, you were running away from Kit, almost escaping before she took a shortcut through a flower bed and tackled you. You landed flat on your back, looking up at a giddy Kit in shock.

“Tag! You’re it! I win again!” She exclaimed, giggling as she reached up and pulled out a pink ribbon from your hair.

You groaned, grabbing for the ribbon as she dangled it over your head. “Kit! No fair, give it back!”

“I don’t think I will. I won, so I’ll take this as my trophy.” She twisted the ribbon in her fingers, examining the lace detail. “Besides, I gave you my breeches, it’s only fair you give me something of yours.”

She crawled off of you and lazily tied the ribbon in her tousled hair. The untidy knot hung loosely over her tangles and stood out like a sore thumb, but the sight of her in something you owned was so enthralling that you couldn’t care less.

Batting her eyelashes, she pouted her lips dramatically. “How do I look?”

You giggled. “Beautiful. Like a princess.”

The two of you tittered about while Airk groaned, feeling left out. “Can we play something else?”

Kit shrugged. “Fine. Let’s play house.”

Airk perked up, nodding in enthusiastic agreement before running over and grabbing your arm. “Great! We can play mommy and daddy, and you’re our child and you have to do whatever we say, Kit.”

“Nuh-uh!” Kit argued, grabbing onto your other arm. “How about I play the daddy, and you be our child and do whatever we say!”

“No fair!” Airk exclaimed. “It was my idea first!”

“It was my idea to play house!” Kit retorted smugly before slinging an arm around your shoulder. “How about we let our guest decide?”

“Fine!” Airk turned to you. “Who do you want to be married to? Me, or Kit?”

You looked between the siblings, weighing your options. Kit was so cool, but Airk was a boy, and you’d never heard of two girls getting married. But if it’s just pretend, and she’s playing the daddy anyway, then it should be alright… right?

Turning to Airk, you shot him a smug smirk. “Who’s the baby now?”

Kit erupted into mocking laughter while Airk grumbled, crossing his arms. “I’d rather be the horse.”

With that complaint, the game began, Airk finally giving in and agreeing to be yours and Kit’s son. You were pretending to prepare Airk as the next heir to the throne before Kit entered the scene, carrying a branch as a makeshift sword.

“Hello, wife,” Kit announced, lowering her voice to impersonate a man. “I’m back from the fight with General Kael.”

“Welcome home, dear,” you replied. “How was the fight?”

“Well I won, of course.” Kit boasted.

You clapped your hands in excitement. “That's wonderful, my love! Airk, did you hear your father?”

“Sure, sure.” Airk grumbled, completely disinterested.

Kit turned to her brother, waving her finger and pretending to be stern. “Listen to your mother, son. Someday it will be your responsibility to defeat leaders of evil armies.”

Airk rolled his eyes while you giggled, smiling at your pretend husband. “Darling, I’m so happy I married you. You’re such a great husband and father, and I’m so proud of you for defeating General Kael.”

“Bo-ring!” Airk complained, being completely ignored by you and Kit.

“Thank you sweetheart,” Kit replied in her mannish voice. “But the battle isn’t over yet. I must go back out and defeat Queen Bavmorda. Give me a kiss for good luck?”

“Kiss?” You asked, breaking character.

Kit dropped the act, returning to her normal voice. “Yeah. Mommies and daddies kiss, so we have to kiss.”

“You can’t kiss!” Airk shouted. “Kissing is for grown-ups!”

“We’re grown-ups in the game,” Kit argued.

“I’ve seen my mommy and daddy kiss, but I’ve never kissed,” you admitted, silently hoping that Kit wouldn’t think less of you.

“That’s alright,” Kit reassured with a gentle smile. “It’s easy. Just stand still, and close your eyes.”

You did as you were told, and suddenly, just for a brief second, you felt Kit’s lips on yours. It was only an innocent peck, but lingered with the taste of grape juice, and left an unfamiliar buzzing sound in your ears. Every inch of your small body tingled with warmth, and in that moment, you were convinced that Kit could do no wrong; everything about her was perfect.

“Gross!” Airk sneered, earning a sharp thwack from Kit using the tree branch she was holding.

And so the game continued, you pretending to tend to your ‘kingdom’ and prepare Airk as an heir, while Kit ran around the garden, using her trusty tree branch to reenact tales her father, Madmartigan, had told her. In between scenes, you would boss Airk around, sending him on side quests, or hide behind shrubs and share sweet grape-juice flavored kisses.

Eventually, the sun began to set, signaling the end of your play day. You and Kit had teamed up to wrestle Airk to the ground when Sorsha and your parents entered the garden gate, laughing like longtime friends. Upon seeing you, however, your parents froze at the shocking sight. Their beloved daughter, raised to be a prim and proper princess, was caked in mud, and wrestling a boy with her dress tucked into a pair of breeches that didn’t belong to her.

You heard your mother call your name, and immediately paused the roughhousing to shift your attention towards her. She forced a plastic smile, clearly displeased with your current appearance, but unwilling to make a scene in front of Sorsha.

“What are those?” She asked through gritted teeth, gesturing towards your lower half.

“Breeches!” You replied proudly. “Kit gave them to me.”

“Well wasn’t that nice of her,” she hummed, exchanging looks with your father.

Sorsha looked over to her own children and let out a sigh, noticing they hadn’t stopped wrestling. “Kit! Get off your brother!”

“Airk is in training, mom!” Kit whined, climbing off her brother. “He has to learn how to defeat Queen Bavmorda if he wants to be the next heir to the throne!”

“Her father…” Sorsha muttered an apologetic explanation to your parents before turning back to the twins. “Kit, why don’t you and Airk go inside and ask the cook to make our guests a snack?”

“Fine…” the twins murmured before trudging back into the castle.

Now that you were alone with the three adults, it seemed as if all their attention fixated on you. They crouched down to your level, peering at you with toothy grins plastered on their faces. A feeling of unease settled like a pit in your stomach, compelling you to take a small step back before they started speaking.

“Sweetheart,” your mother started, her voice dripping with sickening sweetness. “Did you have fun today?”

“I did,” you replied, letting your guard down slightly. “Kit is fantastic. She’s like a brave warrior princess!”

Your mother pursed her lips in disapproval, prompting Sorsha to quickly chime in. “What about Airk? Did you enjoy playing with Airk?”

Even though you had formed a stronger bond with Kit, you did still enjoy playing with Airk. “Yea, he was fun to play with too.”

All three adults beamed at you once again, teeth shining so bright you were almost sure you were going blind. That previous feeling of unease settled in your stomach again; you weren’t sure what your parents were planning, or why they kept interrogating you about your new friends.

It was your father, your gentle and typically soft-spoken father, who decided to ask the question they were all waiting for. “Princess, when you grow up, would you like to marry Airk?”

The adults looked at you expectantly, waiting with bated breath. To you, this was nothing more than an innocent question, a completely hypothetical situation. To them, however, your answer would determine the rest of your life.

You furrowed your brow, pondering their question. “If I marry Airk, does that mean I can play with Kit forever and ever?”

Your parents glanced at each other, and then at Sorsha. All three were slightly taken aback by your response, and none of them knew how to answer your question.

Finally, it was your mother who decided to speak up, nodding slowly as she did. “Well… if you were to marry Airk… technically you and Kit would be sisters. So… yes, I suppose you would get to spend a lot of time together.”

A warm feeling exploded in your chest. Sisters? You’d never even had a sibling before, let alone a sister, and the thought of having one as cool as Kit made you bounce with excitement.

“Then yes,” you exclaimed. “When I grow up, I want to marry Airk!”

The adults cheered in approval, your father hoisting you up onto his shoulders while the women chatted about plans for something you couldn’t make out. At this point, the twins came back out carrying snacks, and ended up joining the impromptu celebration. Not you, nor Kit, nor Airk knew what exactly was being celebrated, but everyone was happy, and that was all any of you cared about.

That night was spent in the Tir Asleen castle, you and your parents meant to be resting for the journey back to Azarenth the next morning. You were supposed to use one of the many guest rooms available, but you and Kit had begged your parents to let you share Kit’s room, and after promising to go to sleep at a reasonable hour, they finally agreed.

You and Kit spent the entire night hidden under her covers, telling stories and sharing sweet secrets. Once the night sky turned pitch black, you had to resort to soft whispers and stifled giggles, for fear of your parents hearing you awake so late and making you sleep separately. Eventually, just before daybreak, you two fell asleep, passed out only after neither of you could keep your eyes open any longer.

The next morning, Sorsha found you both collapsed, buried under Kit’s sheets, lying in a heap and practically tangled into each other. As she gently shook you awake and sent you to the room your parents were staying in, she couldn’t help but smile to herself; Kit didn’t have many girl friends, instead opting to spend most of her free time with her brother and other boys from the neighboring village. It was refreshing, watching her daughter form a close bond with a girl, especially one she was planning on having as a future daughter-in-law.

After getting dressed and sharing a quick breakfast, it was time for you and your parents to begin making your way back to Azarenth. You and Kit shared a tearful goodbye, promising to remain close companions as you embraced each other for the last time.

“Do you still have my breeches?” Kit whispered.

You nodded. “I’m wearing them under my skirt.”

As you let go of each other, you glanced down and noticed your pink ribbon from the previous day was now tied around Kit’s wrist, neatly held together with a bow. You smiled, gingerly picking up her hand and running your fingers over the lacy fabric.

“My ribbon…” you whispered.

“Mommy helped me put it on,” Kit grinned proudly, holding it up by her face in an exaggerated pose. “How do I look?”

You giggled. “Like a princess.”

After leaving Kit and bidding a quick farewell to Airk, you and your parents piled into the carriage for the journey back to your own kingdom. Soon, all you could hear was the dull clip-clop of the driving horse stepping along the cobblestone road.

“Hmm,” your mother pursed her lips as soon as Tir Asleen was out of sight. “I’m not sure how I feel about that Kit girl. She doesn’t seem like the most positive influence. I mean, breeches? On a princess? What was her mother thinking?”

You gulped, crossing your legs and pulling your skirt farther down, fearing that your mother could tell you were secretly wearing Kit’s breeches underneath.

“Something tells me Sorsha isn’t too happy about the breeches herself,” your father murmured, making your mother nod in agreement.

The tips of your ears burned with resentment. In that moment, you hated your parents for looking down on Kit, and didn’t understand how they couldn’t see her the same way you did: wonderful.

Despite your indignation, you chose to bite your tongue, deciding that arguing would prove fruitless. Instead, you threw yourself into your imagination, looking out the window of the carriage and daydreaming about you and Kit growing up and running away together, free from the confines of your parents.

Little did you know, it would be five years before you saw Kit again.

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elliesbelle · 10 months

Text

nobody compares to you

chapter 11

pairing: ellie x reader

synopsis: you're in your junior year of college and at a party, you run into the girl who broke your heart: ellie williams. despite the time it took to reset your life, will you risk a broken heart again for her?

content warnings: modern college au, cursing, angst, descriptions of alcohol and underage drinking, mentions of homophobic slurs, descriptions of marijuana use, men being creepy in general, drama between exes, descriptions of an anxiety attack, mentions of nausea and vomiting, minors do not interact

word count: 10.2k

chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen

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Freshman Year, Fall

You’d never been to a college party, much less a frat party. The extent of your knowledge was taught by cheesy and likely inaccurate movies where all the characters were all played by 30-year-olds pushing 40. But after the shit show that was your senior year of high school, you were looking forward to celebrating your newfound freedom through underage drinking and close-quartered gyrating.

Your roommate's name was Tara Maclay, a honey-blonde tomboy who wore baggy clothing and had a foul but amusing mouth. Your first few days involved polite conversation and awkward apologies when you’d accidentally invade the other’s personal space. However, after a late night of deep conversation, you’d discovered that you were both lesbians and felt a friendship click almost immediately.

During yet another freshman orientation, this time for your dorm held by your RAs in one of the lounges, you’d both befriended a few other girls who also resided in your building, Wilson Valley. The first you’d met was a girl named Astrid. She was tall, skinny, and had long black & blonde braids that swayed gracefully every time she moved. You couldn’t help but notice the way Tara eyed her, nudging her playfully to break her out of her slack-jawed loser lesbian stupor.

Astrid had greeted you both sweetly and introduced you to a couple more girls she’d already met: Sidney and Rebecca, who happened to live right in the same hall as you and Tara. Astrid mentioned she had a roommate as well, who couldn’t come to the meeting. You vaguely recalled she said her name was Dina.

After your RAs ended the meeting and dismissed the rest of the residents, your newfound group lingered in the lounge. You continued to chat lightly about nonsensical topics like new classes and room assignments and the campus until Rebecca mentioned a party being thrown the next night.

“My roommate Kristen mentioned that this frat is having a ‘Start of the Year’ party or something tomorrow!” She said, settling into one of the ratty couches. “Not sure if you guys would be interested in that, but I thought that would be cool to go to, even just for the experience.”

Tara grimaced before saying, “An excuse for asshole, predatory frat guys to prey on freshman girls?”

“Could maybe still be fun, though,” Astrid mused. “Nice excuse to get fucked up and all.”

“Well, I guess the free booze isn’t so bad.” Tara quickly said, changing her tune instantly. You chuckled quietly at her.

“What’s the frat?” You asked.

“Uhh,” Rebecca pondered for a moment. “I think… Sigma… something? I honestly don’t remember. I’ll ask Kristen later.”

“All of them just sound the same anyway,” Sidney shrugged, sitting criss-cross applesauce on the carpeted floor next to the couch. “I’m totally up for it if you guys go, though. Good way to be social. I don’t really have friends around here just yet.”

You turned towards her.

“We’re all your friends, so you do now.” You said, smiling at her.

Sidney returned your smile with a wide one of her own.

You’d already set out your desired outfit on your bed for the Sigma Eta party when you sat by your desk, applying your makeup. Behind you, Tara was clumsily rummaging through her clothes, cursing under her breath as she kept changing her mind about her party attire.

“What the fuck do you even wear to frat parties, dude?” She said, throwing yet another unfolded, creased shirt into her dresser.

“Honestly, I don’t really know. I’ve mostly gone to high school theatre cast parties, and I don’t think those really count as real parties.” You replied, lightly brushing a small spoolie through one of your eyebrows.

“Am I supposed to look fucking nice, or—?”

“Just be yourself!” You jokingly said.

Through your makeup mirror, you saw Tara give you an annoyed grimace in the reflection. You laughed.

“That’s stupid ass advice.” She groaned in frustration.

“Sorry!” You apologized in jest. “I mean, you’re not really there to attract guys. Don’t have to be all dressed up and all if you don’t want to be.”

“You’re getting all dressed the fuck up.” Tara pointed out, motioning towards your outfit on the bed.

“I just like looking nice,” You shrugged. “Just for myself, not really for anyone else. Like I said, you don’t have to get all dressed up if you don’t want to. Unless there’s someone you’re trying to impress.”

“I mean, I didn’t say that…” She grumbled, almost indiscernible underneath her breath.

“Oh?” You said, momentarily pausing your makeup routine to turn towards her with an eyebrow raised. “Why? Is there a certain someone you wanna look good for?” You inquired.

Tara refused to meet your inquisitive eyes as she fidgeted with another shirt’s buttons between her hands.

“I knew it!” You laughed, pointing the makeup brush you held in your hand towards her. “You like Astrid!”

“No, I fucking do not!” Tara responded defensively.

“You have a crush on Astrid,” You said in a sing-song voice. “You have a crush on Astrid!”

“Shut the fuck up, dude!”

“You think she’s pretty, you want her to have your babies!” You continued to sing, cackling as you turned back to your desk to resume your eye makeup.

“I will physically fight you, you dick!” Tara warned noncommittally.

“Save all those kinky threats for your new girlfriend.” You chuckled as you effortlessly blended two shades of eyeshadow with one another.

“Ugh,” She groaned as she flopped down on her bed. “She’s so fucking straight though. Like, painfully fucking straight. Like, not just heterosexual. Barbie heterosexual.”

“First of all,” You said as you set down the makeup brush in your hand to grab your setting spray. “Barbie is so gay, so that point is useless.”

“Barbie is not fucking gay, man.” Tara argued.

“Barbie is a lesbian with comphet and Ken is her lavender marriage boyfriend,” You disagree, fanning your freshly sprayed face. “Secondly, Astrid is one hundred percent a dyke too.”

“Did you fucking see her, dude?”

“Yes, I did. I have eyes, Tara.”

“Yes, I do too.”

“But not a good enough gaydar though, it looks like.”

“What the fuck!”

“Trust me, Tara,” You said, turning towards her once more to look her straight in the eyes. “There is not a single straight bone in that girl’s body, I guarantee it. If you weren’t so busy checking her out before, you would have noticed it too. Might have even noticed that she was also checking you out.”

“Wait. Hold the fuck up, seriously?” Tara said, perking up for a second before suddenly looking nervous.

“Dude, this is no time to be a fucking pussy! She’s really pretty and seems to like you back. Just get to know her tonight!”

“You think she’s pretty?” She asked.

“I mean, yeah, of course. She is gorgeous.” You admit. “But you’re okay, I’m not competition. She’s not my type, trust me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, kind of discovered after my last relationship that I’m more into like, masc and butch lesbians.”

“Oh?” Tara said intriguingly, abandoning her search for appropriate clothing to take a seat on her bed. “How do you mean exactly?”

“Well,” You said, twirling your eyeliner pen in between your fingers as you turned in your chair to face her again. “My ex-girlfriend was a little bit more feminine than masculine. And I mean, I guess I was attracted to her in different kinds of ways, but I think that I was drawn more to her personality than her looks.”

You sighed before continuing.

“Which, obviously, I think is very important, but I also believe that you’ve gotta be physically attracted to who you’re with too, you know? Not in a shallow way or anything. But I don’t think I really ever felt that click with her, even at the start. It was just another unrealistic expectation I had of her that ultimately cemented the end of our relationship.”

Tara hummed in understanding.

“So why masculine lesbians, then? I’m just curious as someone who presents more as masculine but who tends to like more feminine girls.” She asked.

You pondered her question for a few moments, considering your response.

“There’s just… I don’t know, there’s just something so bold and alluring about a woman who completely rejects femininity in every possible way. We’re all expected to fill that role of being gentle and ladylike, and I think it’s just so attractive when a girl openly says ‘fuck you’ to that and presents the way she actually wants to, not the way the rest of the world expects of her. I love it when women are exclusively masculine, almost like they’re showing men how it’s supposed to be done. I think it’s just so hot and charming and sexy.”

“Ooh, so you think I’m sexy and shit?” Tara teases, wiggling her eyebrows at you as you conclude your mini-speech.

“No, you’re way too much of a loser lesbian who can’t even tell the difference between a straight girl and a femme lesbian.”

“Hey, not too fucking much now!” Tara said indignantly.

You laughed loudly before going back to applying your winged eyeliner.

A few moments later, you heard a knock followed by Astrid, Rebecca, and her roommate Kristen after you shouted that your door was unlocked. Kristen, a short and perky girl with her dirty blonde hair up in two long pigtails, introduced herself and said that her friend Mina was also tagging along later on, in addition to two other people she didn’t mention.

It was incredibly amusing to you how red and flustered Tara became as a result of Astrid’s sudden appearance. You even felt a little bit giddy yourself when Astrid graciously offered to help pick out an outfit for Tara to wear for tonight’s party.

It wasn’t long after the three girls arrived that Sidney joined the rest of your group, having done herself up a bit as well in a short, pink dress and pieces of curly hair styled to fall from her space buns. You all enthusiastically complimented her and hyped her up, to which she blushed.

You were the last one to finish getting ready, the rest of your new friends every now and again watching you finish your makeup routine as they all chatted animatedly. They all gawked in awe at the way you’d artistically dolled up your face, Kristen commenting that Michaelangelo couldn’t have painted colours the way you did your eyeshadow (to which you humourously and geekily remark that he was more of a sculptor than a painter). The girls all loudly squealed at how expertly you applied your fake eyelashes within mere seconds, you chuckling to yourself at how easily amused they seemed to be.

As all the girls began to pre-game with a bottle of Bacardi spiced rum Kristen had brought, you threw on the rest of your outfit: a long-sleeved, lacy and see-through white top with a black bra underneath, a black mini-skirt with side pockets, and your favourite knee-high black boots. You joined in the drinking festivities before Astrid checked the time and her messages then suggested you all head out to meet Kristen’s friend Mina and head towards the Sigma Eta party.

You all squeezed into a rickety, old elevator located in the middle of the hallway and headed down to the first floor of your building. As the elevator doors opened up to the lobby, Kristen broke off from the rest of the group when she spotted another girl waiting with two guys by the front doors. Kristen squealed happily and gave her a tight hug before introducing her friend to the rest of you.

Mina was a girl with short kinky blonde hair that reached just above her shoulders. She wore a white halter top with dark blue jeans accompanied by black pumps. To her left was a short, brown-haired guy with a plain, blue button-down and a pair of salmon-coloured shorts; to her right was a tall, dark-haired boy wearing an orange Hawaiian shirt and a pair of dark blue jeans.

“Good evening, fellow freshman cuties,” Mina said before gesturing to her hand to her own company, introducing them respectively. “This is Fred, and this is Jesse.”

The two boys smiled and nodded in greeting.

“Mina’s brother actually used to be in the fraternity that’s throwing the party we’re going to tonight before he graduated last year.” Kristen explained to your group.

“Yeah, Fred here is a friend of my brother’s. He was the one who told me about the party.” Mina added.

“Oh, that was really nice of you.” Astrid said, giving Fred a polite smile. He smiled back, not before eyeing her keenly up and down.

“Thought I’d introduce Mina to college life the proper way.” Fred replied cockily, patting Mina hard on the back in a brotherly fashion. Mina rolled her eyes.

“Let’s head out, chicas!” Kristen announced, beckoning your large group towards and out the front doors.

The trip to the Sigma Eta frat house wasn’t very long, but it felt like it to you at the beginning. Tara had broken off from your side when she was able to garner enough courage and nervously converse with Astrid, who was chatting back animatedly while ignoring Fred’s futile attempts to flirt with her. Kristen and Mina were enthusiastically catching up with each other, and Rebecca, who noticed Sidney’s shy and reserved demeanour, began kindly engaging her in a conversation to help her open up and get to know her. This left you to yourself for a while.

You were excited to be branching out socially and making friends, but it was difficult not to feel like you were out of your league in this rather abundant group of acquaintances. Being accustomed to smaller circles of friends and having gone through a recent ordeal with former friends, you weren’t quite sure how to politely insert yourself without seeming like a burden or nuisance.

The other guy Mina had brought along, Jesse, seemed to notice your silent predicament. He was a tall, muscular Asian man who had jet-black hair and kind eyes. You and your friends were approaching a nearby bus stop when he first spoke to you.

“So, this is your first real party, huh?”

You almost jumped, surprised that someone was speaking to you.

“Oh! Umm, yeah,” You responded sheepishly. “Is it really that obvious?”

“A little, but it’s alright,” He chuckled. “I’m Jesse, by the way. What was your name again?”

You smiled meekly as you introduced yourself.

“I’ll be sure to remember that.” He said with a friendly, assuring grin.

You weren’t sure what it was about this guy Jesse, what it was about him that made you like him instinctively. Men generally made you feel uncomfortable, and you almost never had any guy friends. But something in your gut was telling you that he was genuine, someone you could trust.

“So do you go to these kinds of frat parties a lot?” You asked in an attempt to be social.

“Sometimes,” Jesse replied. “Don’t really like this specific frat we’re going to, but I’m supposed to be helping this friend of mine link up with some guy who’ll be there. Do you smoke pot?”

“Why do you ask? Are you a cop?” You joked.

“Oh, absolutely. That is precisely why I am tagging along with a bunch of underage freshmen to a booze-filled shitty, frat party as someone who is also currently underage.” He chuckled.

You smiled at him.

“Yeah, I smoke,” You eventually replied. “I don’t really have a solid plug out here just yet though.”

“Well, my friend is a dealer and the guy we’re meeting up with tonight actually grows nearby, so we’re gonna see if my friend can work with him. She needs to procure some more fresh ‘merchandise’ or whatever.” He said, making air quotes upon saying the word ‘merchandise.’ “If you’re looking for a regular plug, I can introduce you to her later.”

“That’d be perfect, honestly,” You replied. “Don’t know how I’ll be able to get through freshman year of college without the influence of drugs.”

“Trust me, I get it,” Jesse said. “I had to make do with second-rate dealers as a freshman last year ‘cause my old dealer back home is obviously far away. Everyone around here either charges way too much or their shit is completely dry and weak.”

“Damn,” You replied. “But you think your friend’s got better connections?”

“Well, we’re going to see. But she’s real great about finding good strains and shit. Hopefully, things work out tonight.”

“I hope so too. I don’t wanna try and find another dealer out here, and then it turns out they’re creepy or something. And I trust you and your faith in your friend.”

“Yeah?” Jesse said curiously. “That’s very nice of you.”

You shrugged and gave him a warm smile.

The rest of the trip to the Sigma Eta house was much more enjoyable now that you seemed to find a friend in Jesse. You clicked instantly with him: discussing where you were both from, what your majors were, what there was to do around and outside of the campus. He even gave you tips on how to navigate college as a freshman, having gone through it himself already the previous year. It comforted you that this person you’d just met already seemed adamant about looking out for you in a friendly, platonic manner.

As your group walked down the sidewalk that led to multiple houses where other college students resided, you spotted bright, strobing lights coming from a house towards the end of the street. The sounds of loud party music and boisterous chatter grew louder the further down you ventured. You finally came up to a house where several cars were haphazardly and crookedly parked out front and an assortment of other college kids loitered around the porch, most holding red solo cups filled to the brim.

Before you all stepped foot onto the front porch of the house, Astrid suddenly stopped and turned around to face the whole group.

“Hey, can we take a quick pic of all of us attending our first-ever college party? I wanna capture the memory of getting fucked up with my new dorm besties!” She gushed excitedly.

“You know, this actually isn’t my first college party.” Kristen chuckled, but Mina nudged her in the ribs.

“You know what she means, you killjoy. Come on, let’s all take a selfie!”

All the girls gathered together and began to link arms or embrace each other around the waist or drape their arms over each other’s shoulders. You turned towards Jesse, who was texting rapidly on his phone.

“So, selfie time?” You asked him.

“Nah, you guys go ahead. I think I’m gonna go find my friend inside ‘cause I’m pretty sure she’s here already. Plus I don’t wanna get in the way of you and your friends.”

“You’re my friend too,” You asserted boldly. “Come here and get in the picture with us, new friend.”

Jesse flashed you a warm smile and relented without any further argument.

Astrid held up her phone at a 45-degree angle towards the starry, night sky, angling it so she could get the whole group in the frame (except for Fred, whom she made very little effort to include in the picture, him standing at the edge of the group and desperately trying to have his face captured as well). You and Jesse stood right next to each other, and you allowed yourself to put a hand behind his back in an almost half-hug. You let out a partly genuine smile as Astrid said “Cheese!” and snapped a few photos of your group. After she sent the pictures to you and the rest of the girls in a mass group text (which she then promptly named “Wilson Crew ❤��‍🔥” after the dorm you were all living in), you and your new friends finally ventured into the Sigma Eta frat house.

The deafening noise of terrible EDM and the smell of sweat that filled the thick air was almost enough to make you regret coming out. But the rest of your group tittered in anticipation, so you feigned excitement as you all ventured further into the house.

You entered the dining room where a long, wooden table had been turned into a small, makeshift beer-pong court. There were several people gathered around it, whether as spectators or players. You watched as a girl in a ponytail whooped after she effortlessly bounced a ping-pong ball onto the table and into a red solo cup on her opponent’s side. Several bystanders cheered in response as a frat guy on the other side of the table cursed in jest and promptly chugged from the cup.

“Dina!” Astrid mused excitedly, approaching the girl. She gave her a tight hug, which the girl named Dina affectionately returned.

Dina was an incredibly pretty girl with tan skin and black, wavy hair. Beneath thick, dark eyebrows were a pair of beautiful brown eyes that looked extremely warm and welcoming. Being Astrid’s roommate, it’d have been an obvious guess that she was a freshman too like the rest of you. But she exuded this air of boldness and spunk that made it seem like she was a vetted college student. You noticed that several onlookers, mostly men, had been eyeing her shiftily and curiously.

“I thought you said you weren’t coming!” Astrid scolded her playfully.

“Well, I honestly wasn’t, but a friend of mine had been trying to persuade me to come and—” Dina began before breaking off suddenly.

Her eyes had wandered towards your group of friends and fell on Jesse who was standing right next to you. The wide smile on her face faltered as her animated expression turned into one of shocked recognition. You turned towards Jesse who had suddenly gone rigid and stone-faced. You looked back at the girl Dina who blinked back to reality and began to stutter.

“I-I’m g-gonna catch up with you later, okay?” She said to Astrid before making her way towards the back of the house.

“Ah, shit,” You heard Jesse mutter under his breath. “Goddamn it.”

“You know her?” You questioned him.

“That… was my ex-girlfriend Dina. Childhood and high school sweetheart.” He explained.

“Oh, shit.” You uttered.

“Hey, I’m… I’m gonna be right back, okay?” He said to you before quickly heading towards the direction that Dina had gone in.

You watched as he left you behind with your friends who began to gossip amongst themselves curiously about the exchange that had just occurred.

You’d been standing in the kitchen by yourself for the past five minutes, attempting to finish a drink in your hand that you’d reluctantly poured from an orange cooler on the counter. After they’d downed a couple of shots, the rest of the girls had tried to convince you to come to the basement where the dancing was primarily taking place. You declined and said that you needed a minute or two, promising you’d find them later. Though it was still relatively early in the evening, you were already feeling overwhelmed and overstimulated. You’d been faking plenty of smiles and forcing tight-lipped laughter all night; it was getting more tiring to feign excitement, especially now that the new friend you’d made tonight had not made a reappearance since quickly running after his ex-girlfriend.

Sighing, you refilled your red solo cup with the same unknown alcoholic contents from the cooler. You weren’t particularly enjoying the drink, completely confused as to what it was in the first place, but it was at least giving you something to do. As you continued to sip from your cup, you decided to venture towards the backyard where you figured Jesse had walked off.

Squinting past the darkness illuminated by the moonlight and the strobing lights peeking through the house’s windows, you scanned the numerous figures occupying the grassy lawn. You eventually spotted Jesse’s tall, dark silhouette after a minute or two, seeing that he was in a seemingly heated discussion with the pretty girl Dina. Deciding that this was a lover’s quarrel that you probably shouldn’t get in between, you find your tired, aching feet take you back inside the house.

You felt the temperature change back from brisk chilliness to throbbing heat from the pheromones in the musky air. Unsure of where to go, you walked back to the kitchen where you found a couple pressed up against each other in the spot you previously occupied. You grimaced at their pre-coital positioning and how they seemed to be swallowing each other’s faces before retreating from the room. Having no interest in watching the new round of beer-pong that several people had started again in the dining room, you settled for finding sanctuary elsewhere.

Finding an empty spot on a wall in the living room, you leaned up against it and took a generous sip from your cup. Though you didn’t have high expectations beforehand, the night was still going quite poorly. You cursed yourself silently for not having a sufficient social battery to socialize with your friends at the party nor enough courage to endure your overwhelming surroundings. You were contemplating whether you should rejoin the group after all in their close-quartered gyrating in the basement when you suddenly felt an invisible pull from across the room that called to you and compelled your head to instinctively turn in its direction.

Your eyes simultaneously met a pair of ocean green ones. The sounds of terrible music and overlapping chitchat immediately vanished when you saw her. You watched as her eyes scanned your face just as you scanned hers. The handsome stranger began to look you up and down before the left corner of her lips turned up in a crooked smile. Your cheeks burned in bashfulness and you tore your eyes away from her to stare at the ground and take another sip from your drink.

You felt your throat close up, your breathing hitch, and your entire body going up in flames. It felt as if someone had shot you through the chest with an arrow, aiming for and perfectly hitting where your heart was located. You felt utterly bare and naked in front of all these strangers, suddenly prey to a strange emotion that felt completely foreign to you. It was intoxicating, like you were completely wonderstruck within seconds of being in this stranger’s presence.

When you eventually felt her eyes wander elsewhere, you dared glance at her once more. She was incredibly handsome: her auburn hair partly tied up in a bun, cheeks adorned with freckles as if an angel had hand-painted them itself, broad shoulders that suggested a muscular frame underneath an old, brown motorcycle jacket she was wearing. She was sitting on this ratty old couch, manspreading in the middle as she noncommittally nodded at the people standing beside her. Her slender, long fingers were expertly wrapping a few rolling papers on the table in front of her. As she brought a joint up to her lips to lick it closed, her eyes flicked up once again to look at you. Embarrassed that you were caught shamelessly staring, you quickly focused your gaze in a different direction. From the corner of your eyes, you could see her chuckling.

The girl muttered something to her nearby companions before making her way across the room to you. Your drumming heartbeat echoed each of her steps, getting louder and louder in your chest the closer she got. You didn’t allow yourself to look her way again until she was right in front of you.

“Hey.” She said, voice rough and husky.

“Hi.” You responded, trying not to sound too flustered over this extremely attractive stranger approaching you to engage in conversation.

“You all alone tonight?” She asked.

“Not exactly,” You responded truthfully. “My friends are around here somewhere.”

“Oh?” She said, cocking her head slightly to the side as she crossed her arms.

“Yeah. I think downstairs, humping and gyrating with everyone else.” You joked.

She chuckled.

“Not your type of thing?”

“Not really,” You said. “I wasn’t in the mood tonight to get felt up by some horny frat guy trying to shove his limp-dick boner up against my ass.”

The girl let out a genuine laugh accompanied by a toothy grin.

“You’re funny.” She commented. You returned her smile with one of your own.

“Wanna come sit on the couch?” She asked. “You honestly look like you’re about to collapse at any second.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t really the best idea to wear a really nice pair of high heels to some crappy fraternity party.”

“Well, hey, they look good on you, so not a total loss.”

“Yeah?” You questioned, lifting an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” She smirked. “Anyway, come sit with me on this ugly ass couch. I promise I won’t try to shove my dick up your ass or anything.”

“Aww, you’re not? I was going to say yes, but if you’re not gonna shove your dick up my ass...” You teased boldly.

Even under the dim lights of the party, you thought you saw traces of pink appear underneath her freckles as she smiled. You felt your own cheeks burning.

“Come on, pretty girl.” She chuckled, leading you towards the sofa.

She sat back down in the middle but didn’t manspread this time to make room for you to sit comfortably next to her. Her body faced towards your direction, indicating to her companions that she was disinterested in any further conversation with them. Both your hands gripped onto your red solo cup tightly like it was your life-saving anchor. Your body tensed up from being so close to this handsome stranger whose name you didn’t even know yet.

Almost as if she read your mind, she introduced herself.

“I’m Ellie.”

You smiled nervously as you gave her your name.

“So,” She began. “You a freshman too, huh?”

“Yeah,” You hummed. “First ever college party.”

“Oh?” She said, reaching for one of her joints on the table.

“Mhmm,” You respond. “Not really as exciting as people have been making it out to be.”

“What, you’re not impressed by the repulsive smell of jungle juice and shitty trap music and the giant, sweaty orgy going on in the basement?”

“Eww,” You giggled, scrunching up your nose in disgust. “No, I wouldn’t really say that I’m impressed, exactly.”

Ellie chuckled before offering you the joint she was holding.

“You smoke?”

“Yeah, I do. But are you sure? I don’t wanna waste your weed.”

“I never mind smoking out pretty girls for free every now and again.” Ellie shrugged.

You ignored the way your heart fluttered as you placed your cup down and took the joint from her. You ignored the sudden, electric spark when you felt her skin brush against yours. You ignored how her own breathing seemed to hitch at that same moment before she pulled away from you to grab her lighter from a front pocket of her motorcycle jacket.

You placed the joint in between your lips, trying not to think about the fact that Ellie’d just sealed it a minute or two ago with her tongue. Ellie cupped her left hand around the tip while her right hand flicked on the lighter. Your eyes wandered from the budding flame to her eyes, which were already watching you. Her stare caught you off-guard that you almost forgot to inhale. You leaned away from her, both to blow the smoke in a different direction and to nervously catch your breath from how intimately close she was to you.

“So?” She inquired, reclining back and throwing her arm behind you on the back of the couch.

“Mm?” You hummed in question as you took another puff of the joint.

“How do you like the j?”

“Hmm,” You say after releasing another breath of smoke. “It’s… fine.”

“Just fine?” She asked, looking playfully offended.

“What!” You said, giggling and handing her back the joint. “It’s just a regular, old j! What else would you like me to say?”

“What, do you smoke some fancy ass weed with gold and diamonds and shit where you’re from?” Ellie chuckled.

“Sorry! I guess I’m just used to something very particular.”

“Oh, yeah?” She asked, cocking up an eyebrow, the one that you’d noticed had a slit right through it. “What do you mean by that exactly?”

“I usually lace my own js with lavender buds,” You explained. “Makes it taste better, in my opinion, and it helps me relax.”

“Really? Lavender, huh? I’ve never heard of someone doing that before.”

“A little trick I learned from an ex-girlfriend.” You clarified, pretending that you didn’t throw in that last word on purpose.

“That so?” She replied. You could have sworn that she had moved slightly closer the moment you mentioned having an ex-girlfriend.

“Mhmm. Lavender’s my favourite, but I’ve tried lacing them with other herbs and plants too.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“I’ve done rose petals and passionflowers before. Gives them a much better flavour. Sage is good too if you wanna destress and all. And apparently, hibiscus and jasmine are, well…” Your sentence is cut short by a slightly drunken giggle emerging from your lips.

“Are what?” Ellie prompted you.

“Umm, they’re good too.”

“Good for what, exactly?”

You handed the joint back to her before responding.

“I heard that they’re supposedly good aphrodisiacs.” You nearly whispered.

Ellie smiled slyly, taking the joint back without breaking eye contact.

“Interesting” is all she says before taking a huge puff.

Whether it was the mysterious alcohol finally kicking in or the sudden presence of marijuana in your system, you felt a surge of sudden confidence flood your senses. You wanted to impress this strange girl, you wanted her to like you. And yet somehow, it feels almost as if you’d already met before.

“By the way,” Ellie began. “I really love your eye makeup. You did it yourself?”

“Thanks,” You smiled. “Yeah, I did.”

“That’s seriously fucking impressive. I’ve never been into makeup and girly shit like that, but I know it must take a fuck ton of talent to do it.”

“Nah,” You waved off before picking up your red solo cup from the table and drinking from it. “It’s really not that hard to learn. I taught myself how to do it for the most part.”

“That’s even more fucking impressive.” She stated simply. You gave her a sheepish smile before uttering another quiet thanks.

Before either of you could speak again, the guy leaning against the arm of the couch next to Ellie turned towards her.

“Yo, Williams, Chang here yet?” He asked.

“Really don’t know, man. He said he would be.”

“Damn. Call him or something.”

“Call him yourself. I’m not his mother.”

The guy tsked in irritation before returning to a conversation with his companions.

“Nice friends you got there.” You said out loud without thinking.

“We just got a mutual friend in common, that’s all,” Ellie replied, shrugging and taking another puff. “My best friend knows like, half the people who go to this school.”

You nodded in acknowledgement as she continued.

“Most people are usually disappointed that I’m not as nice as him.”

“You’re not?”

“Nah, apparently I’m ‘antagonistic’ and ‘mean’ and just really fucking rude.” She chuckled.

“Doesn’t seem like that to me.” You commented.

“Well, we just met,” She smirked. “Just wait a little while.”

“What, are you planning on being really mean to me in the future, Ellie?” You quipped.

She shrugged and you chuckled.

Both immensely absorbed in your engaging and private conversation, you weren’t quite sure exactly how long you and Ellie were sitting in that dirty living room on that ratty, old couch. You talked about the classes and professors you had in common, bonded over your shared love of music and the instruments you both played, laughed at all of the dumb and silly jokes she made.

At one point in the night, Tara emerged from the basement, all buzzed and sweaty. She scanned the living room, having been worried that she nor none of the rest of your friends had seen you since you’d all first arrived at the house. Upon spotting you sitting so intimately to Ellie, her whispering something in your ear and you boisterously laughing, Tara smiled and retreated back to the basement.

Ellie was beginning to tell you about her hometown when your conversation was suddenly interrupted by a familiar voice.

“Hey, yo, El!” You heard Jesse say from behind you.

You turned around to see a jovial expression on his face that didn’t quite meet his serious eyes. He was smiling in greeting, but it seemed like whatever occurred in the private conversation he had with the girl Dina rattled him in some way.

“Yo, Jess,” Ellie said, waving him over. “Been wondering where the fuck your ass has been this whole time, man.”

“Ahh, well, I kind of… got detained by D…” He admitted as he approached the couch before spotting you sitting next to Ellie. “Oh, shit! You guys know each other?”

“What, you don’t know that we’re lifelong best friends?” Ellie said, winking at you. You turned away as you bit your lip, attempting to hide the smile on your face and the heat rising to your cheeks.

“Now, hang on, I thought we were lifelong best friends?” Jesse gasped playfully, putting one hand on his hip and gesturing between you and him mockingly.

“Sorry dude, I claimed her already.” Ellie said, smirking.

You tried to ignore Jesse’s mumble of “greedy whore” towards Ellie in between loud, fake coughs.

“Anyway, you saw D? Are you okay?” Ellie said, her tone more serious now.

“I mean, I guess,” Jesse sighed. “Thought she wasn’t tagging along tonight, but I guess she did.”

“Sorry, man, I really thought you knew.”

“It’s cool. I was gonna end up seeing her at some point. Might wanna check up on her, though.”

“She okay?”

“I think so, but you know how she can be.”

“Where’d she run off to know?”

“I think she said that she was gonna go hang out with her roommate or something for the rest of the night.”

“I’ll text her, see where she is.”

“Oh, umm,” You said, awkwardly speaking up. “My friend Astrid is her roommate, so I think your friend Dina went downstairs to the basement.”

Both Ellie and Jesse looked slightly taken aback at your short degree of separation.

“Sorry,” You apologized as you looked down at your hands in embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to insert myself.”

“Hey,” Ellie assured, nudging your shoulder with hers. “Didn’t I just say that we’re lifelong best friends?”

You looked up at her and smiled with appreciation at her thoughtfulness.

Ellie, realizing they’d been leaving you out of their conversation, quickly filled in the blanks.

“Our other lifelong best friend Dina got dumped by this asshole joker right here a little while back. It was a bit of a messy break-up.”

“I haven’t always been the smooth and suave man that you see before you today.” Jesse quipped.

“Never have been, dumbass.” Ellie added. Jesse gave her a scowl, which she mockingly returned.

“Anyway,” She continued. “Now I’ve been stuck being the middle man for the past year or so ‘cause these two clowns don’t know how to talk about their motherfucking feelings.”

You chuckled at Ellie’s choice of words.

“I’m sure she’s okay if she’s with your friend, though. This Astrid girl nice?” Ellie inquired.

“Oh, she’s the absolute sweetest.” You affirmed.

“Well, I trust your judgment. I’ll give her some time and check up on her after.” Ellie concluded, giving you a half-smile.

It was so curious how these people you’d known only for a few hours seemed to somehow trust you so intimately and almost blindly. Besides your cousin Rafael who’s known you since birth, you’d never clicked so well with anyone else in your life. You felt a quiet warmth in your chest, feeling as if you had been soulmates with these people in a past life.

“Might as well,” Jesse said, looking down at his buzzing phone. “Eugene’s contact said he’s here. He’s out back if you still wanna talk to him.”

You suddenly felt naive, not realizing sooner that Ellie was the dealer friend Jesse had been talking to you about earlier in the evening. Her previous rolling of papers and multiple joints should have been a dead giveaway, but you were far too mesmerized by Ellie and her charm and her ocean green eyes to give much notice to your current surroundings.

“Ah, shit, I totally forgot,” Ellie cursed.

She looked at you.

“Umm, do you wanna come with? It’ll probably be boring as shit, but—”

“No, no, it’s okay,” You said, waving her off. “It sounds pretty important. Jesse was telling me earlier that you needed to meet up with him.”

Ellie turned towards him, an annoyed look on her face.

“Now, why are you going around telling my business to everyone?” She asked him.

“It’s fun.” Jesse joked. Ellie rolled her eyes.

“If, uh, you wanna stick around, this probably won’t take long. I’ll see you after?” She said guiltily. You gave her a soft smile.

“Ellie, please go ahead. I’m a big girl; I can be left alone for two seconds.”

She chuckled at your words as she stood up from her seat next to you, not before brushing her hand and her knee against yours. You wondered silently if she did so by accident.

“See you in a bit, pretty girl.” Ellie said, winking at you.

You watched as she and Jesse walked off towards the backyard of the house. Once they were out of sight, you sighed quietly.

You realized that you were all alone tonight once again, this time through no fault of your own. Not knowing what else to do, you leaned back into the sagging sofa and pulled out your phone from a pocket of your skirt. As you waited for your companions to return, you scrolled mindlessly through different social media outlets for a while until your entertainment was exhausted and eventually settled on Instagram. After a couple of minutes of looking through your friends’ stories and posts, sending likes and comments every now and again, you see something that suddenly makes your stomach drop.

Still not fully over the results of the disastrous break-up with your high school ex-girlfriend, you hadn’t unfollowed or blocked her on social media just yet. You realized in the moment what a grave mistake that was when you came across a post with several photos of her and all your former friends at some party with a couple of unknown people included. Hot tears formed in your eyes when, while swiping through the many images, you encountered one picture with your ex-girlfriend’s arms wrapped around a strange girl you didn’t recognize. Their physical intimacy and stances suggested something more than just friendship.

You suddenly felt the urge to throw up and you immediately rose from your seat in search of a nearby bathroom. Eventually, you came across a small one towards the front of the house and wrenched it open, feeling lucky that it was presently unoccupied. Leaning over the grimy sink, the feeling of nausea subdued from what you figured was a result of separating yourself from the overstimulation of the party. Still, your hands and neck felt clammy. You felt as if you couldn’t breathe, no matter how hard you inhaled and exhaled.

You raised your head up to look at yourself in the murky mirror. Thick tears threatened to fall from the corners of your eyes. Pieces of hair stuck to your forehead with nervous sweat. Lips were trembling and shakingly releasing laboured breaths.

Leaving your past behind was not as simple as you believed it could be. The past several months had been a personal hell for you, having been abandoned to be lonely and companionless by people you loved. After a messy break-up with someone who suddenly broke your heart, a result of two young, dumb kids attempting to be much more mature than they actually were, your entire friend group ended up choosing her in the aftermath. It left you completely grief-stricken and betrayed, not expecting the people you believed cared for you to cast you aside so quickly and easily.

You’d spent the entire summer after graduating high school healing and recovering from such a loss, and you’d genuinely believed that you came to your new school fully mended. But as you stood in front of a fogged-up mirror in a dingy frat house bathroom, it seemed as if you hadn’t fully overcome your emotional wounds like you thought.

You were dabbing the soggy sweat off your moist forehead when someone suddenly knocked on the bathroom door, causing you to jump.

“Oh, umm, someone’s in here!” You quickly exclaimed. The sound of the same voice you’d been listening to all evening calling out your name from behind the door had you grip the edges of the sink and freeze in place.

“Y-yeah?” You asked falteringly.

“Hey, uhh, i-it’s Ellie.”

“Oh!” You said in surprise. “Hi! Umm, I-I’ll be out in a minute!”

“Hey, uhh, are you okay?” Ellie said after a beat or two.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine!” You cried out unconvincingly.

“Can… can I come in?” She asked hesitantly.

“Oh! Umm—”

“It’s okay if you don’t want me to! If you need space—”

“No, no!” You interrupted.

You took a deep breath, threw out the damp tissue you still held in your hand, and carefully opened the door to reveal Ellie with a concerned look on her face.

“It’s a bit of a tight fit, but, uhh…” You said, stepping aside to let her in.

You backed up to make space for her and sat on the edge of the shabby-looking tub as Ellie closed the bathroom door behind her before leaning her back against it.

“How’d you know where to find me?” You inquired.

“Someone saw you come in here.” She explained.

“Oh” was all you could say in return.

There were several moments of complete silence, neither of you knowing how to start or what to say. It was you who eventually broke it out of nervousness.

“So, umm, how did it go with that guy you were talking to?” You asked awkwardly.

“Oh, uhh, good. At least, I think so. Gave me a pretty good deal and all.” Ellie replied.

You nodded in response.

“So, hey, uhh, if you need a new plug out here…” She pointed a pair of finger guns at you, to which you half-heartedly chuckled.

“Sorry,” She apologized. “I’m not really as smooth as I would like to think.”

“Don’t worry, I still think you’re plenty charming. Dorky, but charming.” You gave her a soft, affectionate smile that she returned as you saw her turn slightly pink underneath her numerous freckles.

“So, uhh, are you okay? I don’t mean to pry or anything, and you don’t need to say anything if you don’t want to—” She began to ramble.

“Ellie,” You said, chuckling. “It’s alright. I don’t mind, and you’re not prying.”

She let out a quiet sigh of relief.

“Just a bunch of bullshit in regards to my ex,” You explained. “Thought I was past it all, but…”

Ellie nodded in understanding.

“Still not over her?”

“Oh, god, no, no, I’m completely over her,” You clarified quickly. “But dealing with the outcome of it all… isn’t necessarily fun.”

“Yeah,” Ellie agreed. “I completely get it.”

You looked up at her with an expression of gratitude.

“Man, this lesbian shit is real fucking messy and complicated, huh?” She quipped in an attempt to lighten the mood. You couldn’t help but giggle at her joke.

“How’d you know that I wasn’t okay?” You asked her after a beat or two.

“The people I was with earlier said that the pretty girl I was talking to suddenly looked stressed and ran to the bathroom.” Ellie explained, shrugging. You attempted to hide your bashful smile as you felt your cheeks go hot again.

“Wanna get out of this disgusting bathroom and go smoke some more?” She asked.

You and Ellie were passing another joint back and forth again several feet away from the Sigma Eta frat house. You’d both taken shelter underneath a nearby tree, listening to the muffled bass drops of yet another bad EDM song currently playing from the frat house. The weed was calming your nerves down slightly, but you had a gut feeling that it was Ellie’s presence that was the actual cause of your peace of mind.

“Damn, I really wanna try your lavender-laced trick now.” Ellie said after taking a hit of the joint.

“I mean, it’s not really my trick. It was my ex’s idea.” You chuckled dryly as you watched her blow the smoke up towards the night sky.

“Oh, fuck that shit. I don’t know her and I know you, so it’s your recipe.” She disagreed. You laughed graciously at her argument.

“Can I ask what happened?” Ellie began, handing the joint to you. “Like, did the bitch suddenly call or text you, or…”

“Nah,” You said after a puff. “She posted something on Instagram and, I don’t know, I guess seeing evidence of her existence triggered something in me.”

“Wait, you don’t have her blocked?”

“No…” You admitted sheepishly. “I still follow her and everything…”

“What!!” Ellie exclaimed. “Why?!”

“I don’t know!” You laughed at her immediate indignation. “I just could never get myself to actually do it!”

“Alright, no more free weed for you!” Ellie proclaimed, swiftly snatching the joint out of your fingertips.

“Noooo!” You whined.

“You’re on a time-out for still keeping your stupid ex-girlfriend in your life in some kind of way!”

“Look, I like to lurk sometimes! I can’t do that if I have her blocked!” You protested, attempting to take the joint back from her.

“Oh, now you’re definitely not getting any more free weed!” Ellie said, holding the joint up and away from your reach.

“How else am I supposed to be a miserable, pathetic lesbian who needs to be sad and tragic if you don’t let me!!” You said, giving up and crossing your arms over your chest in a huff.

“Pretty girls like you should be spending their freshman year in college in their drunken whore eras, not in an ‘I’m gonna sulk over my worthless ex the whole time’ era!”

“Ugh. Yeah, I know, I know,” You sighed. “But that all sounds like so much work!”

“Alright, give me your phone.” Ellie said suddenly.

“What?” You asked, surprised. “Why?”

“Just give me!” She insisted, holding her free hand out.

You pulled out your phone from one of your skirt’s pockets and handed it over to her, eyeing her suspiciously.

“What are you up to, Ellie?” You inquired of her.

“Just hold this!” She replied, handing you the joint. “But no smoking!”

“Yes, sir!” You said with a salute before taking a quick puff.

Ellie rolled her eyes, chuckled, and had you unlock your phone before taking it back to open up your Instagram.

“Okay, what’s your ex’s name?”

“... why?” You asked skeptically.

“Just trust me!”

You squinted your eyes at her before reluctantly giving her your ex’s name and Instagram handle. As you took a generous hit of the joint, you leaned over and watched as Ellie went to your ex’s profile and blocked her.

“Ellie!!” You protested.

“This is for your own good!” She exclaimed.

“Oh god,” You laughed. “Yeah, yeah, maybe.”

“Definitely.” She asserted before typing another handle into your Instagram search bar.

“What are you doing now?” You asked dubiously.

“Replacing your ex with a hotter, much cooler person.” She explained simply before handing your phone back and taking the joint out of your hand.

You looked at your screen to see Ellie’s Instagram profile and realized she’d followed herself through your account.

“Wow. Dinosaur nerd, huh?” You said, noticing one of her posts was of her posing geekily next to a dinosaur skeleton display in some museum.

“Shut up.” She chuckled before hitting the joint.

“Well, are you gonna follow me back?” You asked.

“I don’t know, I don’t really know you that well.” Ellie shrugged.

“You dick!” You scoffed, to which she laughed. “What happened to us being lifelong best friends?”

“Calm down, calm down,” She chuckled, holding the joint between her teeth and already pulling out her phone. “Bossy.”

You felt your phone buzz with a new notification from Instagram.

“There you go,” She said, putting her phone back in her pocket. “Now we’re official lifelong besties.”

You laughed. Your affection for this incredibly handsome and charming girl that you had just met tonight was growing more and more by the second. Every time she laughed at a joke you’d make or stared at your lips a little too long or brushed her skin against yours, you wondered if you were imagining it or if she had been feeling the same spark too.

“Hey, umm,” You began. “Thank you for that.”

“Don’t have to thank me. I’m sure you would have done it eventually. At least, I hope so.” She chuckled at the last part.

“Oh, I don’t know. I honestly hold on to shit like that forever. I would have probably stayed following her ‘til I was I was fifty.”

Ellie laughed.

For the next few minutes, you told her all about the sorry tale of the break-up between you and your ex. As you and Ellie went through and finished yet another joint, she listened to you intently while she leaned against the tree you’d been standing next to. She didn’t interrupt you, aside from an occasional supportive comment or two, intent on letting you rant your pent-up frustrations out.

You hadn’t opened up to anyone else about this, apart from your cousin Rafael. It felt like you had nobody else left to trust your heart with. And yet, there was something so different and familiar about Ellie that made you feel so at home, so comfortable confiding such intimate thoughts and experiences. She happily entertained you as you confessed to her the way you’d never done before with anyone else, her face looking so sympathetic and gentle as she watched you ramble.

“Oh my fucking god,” You eventually said after a while. “I can’t believe I’ve been babbling nonstop about my bullshit, I am so sorry, I—”

You buried your face in your hands in embarrassment.

“Hey, no, no,” Ellie interrupted, pulling your hands away from your face. “None of that. Don’t apologize, please. It’s shit that you obviously have needed to get off your chest for a long time now. I don’t mind listening at all.”

“Okay, but I’m a total stranger who just trauma dumped on you like a dumbass—”

“Alright, no, you are not a dumbass,” Ellie insisted. “And lifelong best friends, remember?”

She gave you a soft smile and began to rub her thumbs against your palms, her warm touch making you tremble.

“Oh, hey, you’re shivering, here.” Ellie said, taking off her motorcycle jacket and placing it around your shoulders.

“Oh,” You said, “T-thanks, Ellie.”

“Looks really good on you.” She commented, smiling. You felt your cheeks go hot again.

“It-it’s very nice.” You said.

“Yeah, it’s my dad’s old jacket. He gave it to me when I was around 14. He used to be a delinquent and was part of some gang or something when he was younger. Rode motorcycles a lot or some shit like that. I’ll tell you more about it one of these days.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Ellie seemed to realize how close she was to your face and how intimately she was holding you. A little sheepish, she walked back a few steps to lean against the tree. She crossed her arms against her chest and, her arms now uncovered, you noticed a large tattoo covering her right forearm.

“I like your tattoo,” You commented. “What is it?”

“Oh,” She said, glancing down at her arm. “It’s a moth with some ferns around it.”

“It’s absolutely gorgeous.”

“Thanks. My ex-girlfriend did the tattoo itself, but I created the design.”

“Woah, really?”

“Yeah.” Ellie said, chuckling at your admiration.

“I know you were telling me earlier that you like to draw, but that really is something.”

“It is?” Ellie replied. You could see her blushing even under the dim glow of the moonlight.

“You’re really talented, Ellie.”

“Nah. I mean, my ex-girlfriend Cat, she did a lot of work making it look better and shit.”

“Still, it’s very impressive.” You insisted. “Do you think— Can I…?”

You extended a hesitant hand out towards her tattooed arm. She smiled warmly as she offered it to you.

“Yeah, go ahead.”

You lifted your outreached hand to trace your fingertips across the multiple leaves decorating her skin. You stared at the intricate design of the Death’s-head hawkmoth that was perched atop the ferns.

“It really suits you.” You said.

“You think so?”

“I do.”

As you continued to stroke Ellie’s tattoo, you felt electricity once again run between you two. You looked up at her to see her ocean green eyes staring at you. You’d never seen anyone look at you that way, not even your ex-girlfriend. You tried to decipher her expression when the moment was suddenly interrupted by your name being called coming from the direction of the frat house.

“There you are!” Tara exclaimed, half-jogging towards you.

“Oh, hey, Tara.” You greeted her, pulling your hands away from Ellie.

“Been looking for you everywhere.” Tara said.

“Sorry, the party was getting a little too much for me. Needed a breather.” You apologized before gesturing towards your companion. “This is Ellie, by the way. She’s Jesse’s roommate.”

“Oh, hey, nice to meet you, man.” Tara said, nodding towards her in greeting. Ellie replied with a nod of her own.

“This is Tara, my roommate.” You gestured to Tara this time.

“Nice to meet you too, dude.” Ellie repeated back to her.

“So, uhh,” Tara began. “Half the group is completely wasted, and Astrid really wants to get rid of that guy Fred who has not stopped trying to grope her all night.”

“Oh, gross. Is she alright?”

“Yeah, she’s okay. But we’re gonna order an Uber and we’re about to head home in a sec. Did you wanna come with or…”

“Oh, umm…” You turned towards Ellie.

“Go on,” Ellie replied, smiling. “I think I’m gonna go find my friend Dina.”

“I’m gonna go gather up the girls.” Tara said, pointing a thumb towards the house. “Nice to meet you again!”

“You too, man.” Ellie said as you both watched Tara walk off.

“Go ahead,” Ellie said, head motioning after Tara. “Go help your friends.”

“Are-are you sure?” You said hesitantly.

“Here, give me your phone again.” She said, holding her hand out. This time, you didn’t hesitate and unlocked it before handing it to her.

You watched as Ellie quickly typed for a few moments before placing it back in your hand. Glancing at the screen, you saw that she’d texted a new contact she’d named “Ellie 😛” with the message “hey sexy” accompanied by a winking emoji.

“Oh my god, you’re annoying.” You said, laughing.

“What, you don’t think I’m sexy?” She replied, grinning.

“Goodbye, Ellie.” You chuckled, walking away a couple of steps before suddenly stopping in your tracks.

“Oh, wait, your jacket—” You said, beginning to shrug off her old motorcycle jacket.

“No, go ahead and keep it.” She interrupted, securing it back onto your shoulders.

“Are you sure?” You asked.

“Gives you a good excuse to see my sexy ass later.” She smirked.

“Shut up,” You said, unable to hide a smile. “You are so annoying.”

“You love it.” She said, smirking once more.

As she adjusted the jacket onto you, you realized just how close she was again. You stared at her and she stared right back. There was a moment or two when you gazed into each other’s eyes, neither saying anything. You felt heat increasingly rising to your face when she suddenly brushed a piece of hair from your forehead.

You found yourself completely unwilling to leave this bubble that enclosed only you and Ellie. It was extraordinary how intimately absorbed you felt in this person you’d only seen for the first time today, how enchanted you felt by merely being in her presence. In just a few hours, she filled your mind completely with thoughts of her and only her. You prayed that this wasn’t a chance meeting but the beginning of something life-changing.

The moment was once again interrupted, this time by Jesse.

“Dude, I was—” Jesse began, but upon seeing what he’d walked in on, his sentence faltered. “Oh, shit, sorry—”

“It’s okay, Jesse,” You assured. “I gotta go, anyway.”

You turned back towards Ellie.

“I’ll, umm, see you soon?” You asked nervously.

“I hope so.” She replied, smiling softly.

You began to walk back towards the house, giving a quick goodbye to Jesse. Once you reached the front porch and before you walked through the door, you turned back to where Ellie and Jesse were standing beneath the tree.

You lifted your hand and waved at Ellie, which she returned with her own soft wave. The look on her face looked completely dazed and awestruck. You bit your lip in nervous anticipation, looking into her ocean green eyes one more time before walking into the house.

After a beat or two, Jesse finally spoke.

“Is she wearing Joel’s old jacket?”

“Shut the fuck up, Jesse.”

author's notes:

i can’t believe this is finally out!! sorry for taking so long to update this, but hopefully how long this is will make up for the time ♡︎

the "barbie heterosexual" line is a reference to a line from the iconique movie "imagine me and you" :)

reader's little spiel to tara about her dating preference is just another little love letter of mine towards masc/butch/stud lesbians. just love y'all so much, you deserve the world.

fred is named after another jackson resident in the actual game (as i've probably mentioned before, all the character names in this fic are purposeful: either named after actual characters or named after people irl). i thought it was a silly little reference for him to go after astrid cause in the games, he's barely mentioned except at one point when it's seen he was paired up with astrid for patrol at one point. i enjoy my little easter eggs :)

the descriptions of most of reader’s friends are slightly based on the physical appearances of some of my irl friends :)

i’ve discovered that i really love making these flashback chapters hehe

like i said, i’m so sorry for taking forever to update this!! my life has been an absolute shit show lately (if you’ve been keeping up with my personal ramblings on here, you know by now lol). but the next few chapters have been basically mapped out already, so hopefully it won’t take me that long to update this with the next chapter ♡︎

taglist: @lonelyfooryouonly, @elliesinterlude, @sawaagyapong, @peppesgirl, @iconsoft, @maybeidohaveadhd, @ellieswifee, @valiantllamapersonpony-blog, @nil-eena, @echostinn

@uraesthete, @softbunlvr, @cherriesxinthespring, @amitycat, @thefishymissy, @yevheniiaaaa, @machetegirl109, @bertandfearnie, @ximtiredx, @efam

@elliesnumber1gf, @digit4lslut, @tayyyystan, @emothurman, @livvy-2000, @abigaillovestoread, @gold-dustwomxn, @liabadoobee, @yuckyfucky, @qtefolleunpez

@libr4sonsa, @venusluv3, @robinismywifee, @villainousbear, @ashlynnnnnnnn15, @scarlettadore, @vianna99, @g0n3girls, @totheblood, @embermdk

@awyunh, @kenz-ee, @marvelwomen-simp, @eleactric, @simpforellie, @omgidksblog, @anxiouso, @nyrastar, @lillysbigwilly, @hopeless-y

@elliesbabygirl, @alexpritch, @thestarsanctuary, @aethelwyneleigh27, @cass00x, @mulan-but-gay, @carmellie, @destielcore, @tfuuka, @elliewilliamsmissingfingerss

@sagestuffing, @ewwitsbella, @igoferalforelliewilliams, @miaelliesgfxoxo, @kissesforells, @elysiagyaru, @asteroidzzzn, @gay4jinx, @97cityy, @joliettes

@p1llowthoughtss, @ellieslegalwife, @aouiaa, @lez-zuha, @ineffablefics, @peepshake, @lil-elliesgf, @wex--12, @ccinnamongrl, @siriusblackrunmeover17

@whenlostinthedarkness, @elsbouquet

#nobody compares to you series #ellie williams #dealer!ellie #ellie x reader #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #the last of us #tlou #the last of us part 2 #tlou2 #ellie fanfiction #belle speaks #belle writes

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within-your-eyes-if · 11 days

Text

June 1 Update & Testing Begins!

Hello all!

I am sending out links after posting — please check your emails/Discord when you get a chance!

Aside from that, I'm feeling a little nervous but pretty good overall. I'll go over everything once the update is ready to be published.

How long do I plan on testing?: At least a week. I want to give everyone time, but this isn't a new chapter. It may be extended depending on feedback, but I think a week or two is sufficient.

Once testing ends, I'll put on the final touches (if needed) before releasing publicly.

What comes next?: I'm redoing my To-Do list today, but I will share what I have on my test page:

Arcane Sense System with Basic Inventory:

The code is ready and working in a test environment — implementation is planned for Chapter 1 rewrite.

This system will make it so this ability can be tracked and used 'at will' in certain cases — it will be mostly utilized in Ch3 Part Two and going forward.

Armor and Stance System:

The code is ready and working in a test environment — implementation is planned for Chapter 1 rewrite.

This will have greater impact on the fight scenes — it will be a little more "game-like" but not overwhelming or super-complex.

Rewrite Chapter 1:

I want to introduce the MC's abilities better and with more sense. This rewrite would aim to redo the combat areas (again ;-;) but for these new systems. I don't think it will be too bad since the systems are working.

Redoing the Guilt Mechanics:

Since announcing this previously, I've see a few of people mention they enjoy it as it is or find it might not make sense regardless. I'll be contemplating this more along with a 'trust system' that a reader suggested for the time being.

Reworking the Poly Routes:

Changes in tracking have been made. I plan to add new scenes and revise existing ones to improve these relationships. I was hoping to have it in this update, but turned out to be a rather large undertaking so will likely be included in next big update or an update following that.

I’m also working on a few other systems, which I will detail in later updates as they become more fleshed out.

What About Chapter 3 Part Two?

It's still in progress. I'm currently at a part where the MC meets various characters, leading to the dinner with Admos. This may seem straightforward, but with five potential encounters and branching paths, it's quite intricate.

My plan is work on the arcane sense system that will be utilized in this chapter quite a bit so I can get it out sooner than later — I am aiming for this to be the next big update.

Goodness, it feels like a lot — and it probably is. But, we can only move forward! Thank you all for your loving support and incredible patience!

#within your eyes if #wye general information #wye progress update #text based game #interactive fiction #work in progress

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coolshadowtwins · 1 month

Text

Post Canon, SQQ now has to deal with wife plots.

But, Op, that’s the plot of many fanfics already! Well, what if he had to deal with every wife plot ever. Bingge had 300-3000 wives, depending on the translation you were following.

Man’s I have to assume that while each wife got at least one (1) wife plot to her name, the fan favorites (NYY, LMY, SHL etc) got multiple over the years.

Now, most of these were probably incredibly standard. And most of them, while frightening to the multitude of civilian wives Bingge probably had, were not going to be much more than an annoyance to a cultivator like SQQ.

The problem is the frequency.

It probably would take a few years for the story to catch up to the plot. SQQ gets hit with a few scattered ones here and there for the first decade or so, but he doesn’t think much of it. Shit just a happens to him, you know?

But then, all of a sudden, he gets kidnapped during a night hunt. The villain is the man that had called for help with a demon. In PIDW, he was the evil uncle/father/cousin/male authority figure in this wife’s life, wanting revenge on Bingge and ultimately introducing a new wife. Here, he’s decided that he’ll hurt Binghe’s husband instead Binghe himself. SQQ defeats him in an hour.

He goes home and tries to forget about it. Only to be hit with some kind of sex pollen from a plant that MQF was trying to study, completely by accident. In PIDW, this had been used to get another chapter out of a particularly laced up wife, who the comments disliked because they felt her boring.

And ok, fine. SQQ still has Binghe- they fix this problem in a night.

Only to be kidnapped again the next day when he goes to town, this time by a random demon looking for a quick buck.

This goes on and on. It’s almost never anything difficult, but it’s a lot. These are too many plots to happen to one man! Sure, Bingge was involved in all those plots too, but he was almost always the one coming in and saving the day- not the one kidnapped or poisoned or stabbed. It’s not long before SQQ gets exhausted, and that everyone around him is constantly on edge, waiting for the next bad luck.

It all kinda climax’s as the bamboo house gets set on fire. In PIDW, fire is used twice like this- once, a portion of the palace gets set on fire, leading to a arc where the wives have to come together to rptect themselves until Bingge shows up. (This arc was very disliked because most of the wives didn’t act in character.) the other time was when a wife was trapped in the burning of her family home, franticly trying to get her belongings out and then being comforted from the loss by Bingge afterwards.

SQQ knows this. He knows all of this. He has figured out what every plot has been so far, and had managed to avoid a few by recognizing the signs, only for them to come back around when he least expected it. He had thought that he could always just ride out the wife plots- sure, Binghe had a lot of wives, but it couldn’t be that bad, right? Except he watched the bamboo house on fire, frozen, and realized that he couldn’t keep doing this.

The bamboo house was fine, in the end. There were disciples on duty, ready to help. Nearly nothing was lost. The fire spread out into the woods, a little, but other than a small area of destruction, it hadn’t caused all together that much damage. Except SQQ couldn’t figure out which of the two plots this was, and that was freaking him out.

This leads to him breaking down on Binghe that night, who has been out of his head with worry for ages about what was going on. SQQ tells him everything, about SY, the system, wife plots. Binghe asks if they can stop this. SQQ doesn’t know how- these plots were for Binghe’s wives, and here he only has a husband.

And Binghe certainly doesn’t want another spouse. He’s quite happy with his husband, thank you very much! But he then he gets to thinking.

Bingge couldn’t have loved every single wife, right? Binghe had a feeling he didn’t act love any of them, judging by how quickly his other self had tried to latch onto Shizun. So it’s not the act of love that causes these so called ‘wife plots’, it’s the act of marriage. And Binghe’s not so cruel as to inflict these plots on someone unexpecting (well, for Shizun he was. But he had another option.)

Binghe had to be the one to marry them- but not the one they loved. And he knew, both fortunately and unfortunately, that there were many men that would do anything for SQQ.

#svsss #shen qingqiu #shen yuan #luo binghe #wife plots

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novlr · 9 months

Note

How can I end a chapter without it being too abrupt?

Writing a novel is like any craft. Each element contributes to the whole piece, and each chapter forms a part of your narrative with its own arc. However, creating a seamless transition between chapters can be challenging for even the best writers. The end of a chapter needs to be satisfying, yet also tantalizing to keep readers flipping the page. So, how do you end a chapter without being too abrupt?

End with a cliffhanger

Ending a chapter with an unexpected twist, a sudden revelation, or an unresolved situation that leaves readers hanging in suspense is the essence of a good cliffhanger. The key to a successful cliffhanger is to write it in a way that feels organic to your story. A well-crafted cliffhanger triggers curiosity, keeps the narrative tension high, and ensures that your readers remain invested and eager to read on.

Introduce the next point of action

Introducing the next point of action is a powerful way to maintain the pace of your story and end a chapter. It’s as simple as revealing a new character, event, or conflict that will take centre stage in the forthcoming chapter. For example, your character could receive a mysterious letter, stumble upon a secret door, or meet a stranger with riveting news. This gives your readers a clear idea about the next focus but keeps them intrigued to learn more.

Pose a question

Posing a question is a simple way to end a chapter that feels natural. The question could be literal or metaphorical. It could be a question in a character’s mind or a question about the events unfolding in the story. For instance, your character might wonder, “Who was the mysterious stranger?” or “What’s behind that secret door?” This method leaves your readers curious, sparking their imagination as they try to guess the answer. Remember, a good question doesn’t just ask — it hints at a deeper story.

Develop your characters

Concluding a chapter with character development can provide depth to your story and make your readers feel more connected to them. A character might go through a significant change or realisation. For example, your protagonist could realize they’ve been lied to their entire life, or a side character could decide to leave their past behind and start fresh. These kinds of character moments make your readers more invested in their journey.

Use Foreshadowing

Foreshadowing is a narrative device that involves giving hints about what will happen next in the story. You can do this subtly by dropping minor details that hint at future events. For example, you might describe a looming storm cloud on the horizon, foreshadowing a coming conflict or problem. Alternatively, you might make a direct statement about future events. For instance, a character might say something like, “I have a bad feeling about this.” But remember, don’t give away too much. Keeping some level of mystery is important to maintain the reader’s interest.

Reveal something

A revelation at the end of a chapter can make your readers more eager to keep reading. It could involve unveiling a new piece of information about a character, story arc, or mystery that shifts the reader’s perspective. For example, a truth about a character’s past could be revealed, or the discovery of a hidden key could introduce a new mystery. Revealing something important can cause a dramatic turn in your story and can make your readers excited to find out what happens next.

Emotional closure

If you’ve had a lot of fast-paced action, then sometimes you need to give your readers a moment to breathe by letting your characters reflect on their feelings. For instance, you might end a chapter with a character solving an issue, realizing an important truth, or simply having a moment of introspection. This allows readers to connect with them emotionally, to understand their feelings, and to see their growth. Emotional closure provides a moment of calm before your readers dive into the next chapter.

Develop your theme or subtext

Developing your story’s theme or subtext at the end of a chapter might involve reinforcing the central theme of your story or introducing a new idea that adds another layer of depth. For instance, if your story is about the struggle for freedom, you could end a chapter with a character making a decision that signifies their pursuit of liberty. This not only helps readers understand the broader context and message of your story but also leaves them pondering these ideas as they move on to the next chapter.

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writingmeraki · 4 months

Text

i. bravery or stupidity ?

a roronoa zoro series !

SERIES MASTERLIST | NEXT

chapter summary : you thought surely you were going to die a coward that day but little did you know, you'd be braver than you ever thought you were.

chapter warnings : canon violence and mentions of weapons, cuss words, descriptions of injuries and bruises ( lmk if i missed anything )

TAGLIST ( open ! ) :

@smolracoon25 ; @dimplewonie ; @hearts4zoro ; @katiemrty ; @emelia07 ; @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad ; @tfamidoingwithmylife ; @chims-kookies ; @stevenknightmarc ; @yoong1c0re ; @sseleniaa ; @lovefooi ; @alotofrandomfangirling ; @multifandomedsimp ; @taiwan0618 ; @nadlx33333 ; @ye0nvibezzn ; @candyquokka ; @blossomedfloweroflove ; @qalable <3

word count : 8.08k ( whew so much for an intro wtf )

The repetitive circus music began, flashing lights and the clapping, oh the clapping echoed in your mind, your head hung low, not wanting to look up even though you heard harsh whispers through the music to follow as the signs say.

How could you when your hands were constrained behind you with a rope?

Well, a rope you were almost through with cutting off with a very small blade you always hid under your tongue that wasn’t taken away with your knives and weapons.

But this time, you decided to look up, something in your gut told you that this was worth seeing, worth paying attention to as you saw three figures in the middle, the lights shining on them but from where you were, further at the back, you could not make out their faces.

Raising an eyebrow in curiosity, you peeked ahead trying to see if you knew them, though you were pretty sure they were new, perhaps not even from your town because surely you knew almost everyone.

You could see a guy with a straw hat, hair seemingly curly or just simply messy in a white t-shirt, you saw a redhead to his left who was looking around and from her body language, you figured she was just as confused as most of you.

When your gaze landed on the last figure, immediately you thought before you could even properly figure him out,

That is such an ugly hair color, looks like mold green good gosh!

You wondered as you continued to squint at him, somehow even from afar, you could tell he was the most nonchalant regarding, whatever the fuck was going on. He seemed taller compared to the others and stronger as you scanned his muscles.

One of the flashing lights caught onto something shiny on his left ear,

Ah earrings, maybe mold green does know about fashion huh?

Suddenly the music stopped as you heard the voice of the psychopath you hated more than you hated losing your knives.

“-top stop! No stop!” You tore your gaze away from ‘mold green’ as you nicknamed and looked at the clown.

He was once again, blabbering about how everyone had messed up his entrance and you couldn’t help but clench your jaw in anger as you saw him spit in the face of a guy dressed up as a lion.

It’s all wrong, it’s…wrong.

“Hey! I know you,” Everyone’s attention including yours shifted to the voice,

“I saw your wanted poster in Shells town. You’re the clown guy.” Now you were more than curious as to who exactly this character was, briefly pausing your excruciating task of slowly cutting the very firm and strong rope with all but a tiny blade.

“Um uh, Binky right?” Lightly snorting at the mispronunciation,

“Buggy” “Buggy the clown.” You scoffed at his words, already more than fed up with this nonsense, more specifically of your entire situation.

He continued introducing himself, but you tuned him out as you focused on the three before you. You had an instinct that they weren’t any ordinary townspeople or some sort of tourists.

You flinched when you saw Buggy leap forward as the audience gasped, you felt a sort of anger when he grabbed the Straw Hat’s face.

Cringing at the way he slapped straw hat’s hand when he was about to touch his nose, rolling your eyes at his pathetic attempt to assert his power.

“Hey! I am not a nobody, I am Monkey D. Luffy.”

“And I will be king of the pirates.”

Now, you were caught off guard, you didn’t think out of everything, Luffy was a freaking pirate. And what did you think of pirates? You hated them.

Your hatred sprouted from the scar that ran through your right eyebrow to your right cheekbone, it healed over time but it was always a reminder of what was once a past incident you’d never wish on anyone.

Buggy seemed to take that as a joke, countering with his own supposed accomplishments as a pirate which were making you more annoyed than you already were as the rope tying your hands seemed to make no difference in losing up even though it’d been a while since you started trying to cut them.

Though you must admit, all this blabbering Buggy did about the map to the treasure that will make one the king of the pirated had you more curious than ever. You knew about it, heard it through stories told in what was left of your town.

The One Piece.

And if it did exist, you’d rather it be in any other person’s hands but the boon of an existence clown and well…ex-pirate you suppose.

Even if it had to be in the hands of Luffy.

Somehow, your gut was able to tell, that he was…different. A different pirate from the known rogues that you knew and had encountered in your life. You preferred to trust your gut after one too many instances where you did the opposite and ended up regretting it.

“-said don’t make me laugh!” You snapped out of your thoughts, once again blocking out what was happening in front of you. You were never one who lost focus, you knew better as a fighter how important it was to pay attention to every detail but also who could blame you for not being fully conscious when you’d not even had food or simply water for the past two days?

Besides, your hands were your priority right now, freeing them would ultimately lead you even closer to freedom. Fortunately for you, you felt one part of it loosen up, allowing your left hand to wiggle.

“All right, listen up.” Suddenly it was silent, which for once stunned you as the spotlight shifted to one of the three “pirates”.

It was mold-green-headed guy, and of course, he had to be even better looking than you’d even guessed.

“I’m Roronoa Zoro.” He moved forward as he spoke, towards Buggy. And you had to admit though, it was the first time since a long time, you’d seen someone so-

“Drop your weapons and I may let you live.”

Now there goes the image you’d made of him. You felt he’d be rational, maybe try to negotiate something with the crazed clown but here he was, threatening a bunch of armed minions while he stood defenseless, his only weapon being well…his threat.

Though you must admit, it’s brave of him, as your father once taught you, there’s a thin line between courage and stupidity, you ought to know where you fall into, and taking in the situation, Zoro over here definitely was not passing into the brave territory much.

As you expected, Buggy didn’t take it lightly, he taunted Zoro and his minions were now preparing to attack.

“Wait, wait what if I have something else to offer you?” The redhead spoke up, your eyes darting back to her as they’d been previously been unknowingly staring, not that you wanted to but it was like you couldn’t help it.

“Something more valuable than the map, what if I give you a new freak for your crew?”

“A rare talent. The most spectacular act in all of the East Blue.”

“Besides you, of course.”

She began to move beside Luffy, and abruptly she pulled off his straw hat and threw it in the air.

What the actual fuck?

You thought as Luffy screamed and now it was your turn to become more surprised when all of a sudden his arm…elongated and stretched up up in the air to grab the hat.

You blinked once, twice to make sure you were not hallucinating due to malnourishment but then it struck you.

He consumed the Devil Fruit.

Your gaze shifted back to the redhead and you promptly got another realization that it was a distraction to allow her to escape.

But, aren’t they in the same crew?

She…betrayed them?

You didn’t know what to think, and how could you possibly conclude if they even cared for each other because you didn’t even know them, barely their names and well…superpowers now.

Her attempt was a failure as she was dragged back in.

“What did you do?! What did you do to their town?! You destroyed everything!” She yelled as she stood in front of the clown again.

This hit you in a way it hadn’t in a while, you knew your town was ruined, destroyed but it also reminded you of how you weren’t able to do much to save it before you were held captive.

You’d fought and you’d fought hard, alas your defeat wasn’t truly because of not being able to take them down, instead, you were threatened.

A life for a life.

Buggy promised if you’d take down any more of his lunatics, he’d end up killing the children he’d held captive.

Giving up wasn’t a choice, you had to surrender before he could get through with his sickening words.

You gulped as you felt the familiar taunting in your head, chanting the repetitive words of how you failed to be a ‘hero’. How you failed to protect those who you loved, those who were innocent.

And that voice only felt louder as you saw two of the three being taken to the forbidden green room named by Buggy.

No, you couldn’t let more people suffer, you had to find a way to end this. You had to save your people.

Taking a deep breath, you concentrated on the blade cutting each fiber of thread as swiftly as it was possible.

Your left hand being more free was a huge benefit, letting you cut it more quickly.

And finally.

Finally, you felt the rope tug off completely.

You were in disbelief that your plan worked, the tiny blade you hid under your tongue being able to cut through the rope.

Moving your hands in front of you, you closed and opened them, trying to bring back life into them. Your shoulders ached, and you rolled them trying to ease the cramps.

Now all you needed was a plan.

But what plan?

You stood up firstly, quietly as you could without drawing anyone's attention and you looked sideways to see if anyone was observing you.

No one seemed to have noticed you, likely far too scared probably from not following what was on the signs, and that fueled your anger more.

In front, Luffy was being chained up, a sick feeling once again rising in you as you stood there helpless on how you could help him.

You weighed your options.

It would be quite frankly risky to just oppose Buggy from where you were, weaponless too, and not that you didn't trust your own fighting abilities, you did know it was a risk to count on stamina that was running on adrenaline purely out of survival at the moment.

You figured the first step was to find your weapons. Certainly, you'd be able to gain an upper hand, even if a small one that is.

And so you thought about where could they have possibly hidden your knives.

Then it hit you,

The green room.

You knew what it was, having been held there when you were first held captive.

"Now, now, you don't need to become so violent sweetheart, you just need to compel and everything will go smoothly."

Buggy taunted you as you glared at him with the intensity, if it could, bury him under the dirt.

He held your knives in front of you as you yanked your arms to try and get them back, impossible because the chains were glued to the chair.

"I'll store these for you safely, maybe one day you'll get it in your head that it's better to be on the right side with me."

You watched as he removed a box, shaped like a treasure chest, opened it, and threw them inside.

Shutting it harshly, he kept the box in a black cupboard which was near the corner.

"Now you'll know, you shouldn't pick a fight you'll lose."

Groaning when you registered that now you had to figure out how to get to the green room.

Another realization came to you when you remembered Zoro and the redhead were getting dragged there.

That's it! I just have to follow where those fuckheads drag them,

You felt a small wick of hope light up as you now had a sort of solid plan.

Once you'd be able to get your weapons, you'd also be able to free the other two and….

All you could hope was that they were willing to help you out, at least if it involved being able to save their other friend too.

Chances were low, remembering how redhead almost ditched the two, but you had a hitch that Zoro might be more willing.

With a deep breath, you focused on what direction they were getting dragged to, noticing it was to the left while you were on the opposite end.

You'd have to slowly creep your way down to the left of where you now saw them disappear.

Your heart did feel like it was in your throat as you took cautionary steps, hitching your breath if you made an unintentionally loud noise when the circus got quiet from the forced claps and unenthusiastic laughter.

Lucky for you, you didn't have anyone look at you and if they did, they'd chosen to ignore you.

It was taking longer than you hoped, seeing as you'd been all the way up the top row, and you had to keep ducking to avoid the flashing lights suddenly shining on you but you made it.

As you reached a few feet away from what seemed to be a made-up door, leading down a…hallway? You froze up and ducked as you saw a guy, from his ugly haircut you figured it was Cabaji, cycling on a unicycle down the path.

You thought you'd been hallucinating possibly, thinking your mind was playing jokes on you because this seemed ridiculous, a supposed dangerous guy, on a fucking unicycle.

You snapped out of your thoughts and followed your way, making sure there was no one else and fortunately, they all seemed busy doing what Buggy told you as you saw Luffy being strapped down to a table.

You were in contemplation, whether you should just say fuck it and free Luffy but the rational, or what was left of it, part of your brain knew it'd get worse for the both of you.

The hallway was quite narrow, and it reeked out ashes. It reeked of burnt-out items.

It was dimly lit and you walked on your tiptoes as quietly as you could.

You saw him enter a room to your right.

Bingo.

You knew this was the green room.

Slyly moving forward, you paused before you could enter the room. Now it was where the real part of the plan began. Having to take down one minion pirate, possibly by yourself.

And oh, of course, only using your combat skills.

You heard two people talking, it was subtle since they were likely murmuring, but you could make out one voice and that was Cadaji's.

The other was a bit deeper, with a lower timbre to it, so obviously it wasn't redhead's.

Then you heard the sound of something slicing through the air and hitting a hard surface, piercing into it.

Your eyes widened, praying that the insane pirate hadn't actually stabbed any of the two and that you didn't really want to witness a murder right now.

You moved forward, now standing in front of the open door leading into the room.

Firstly, you made eye contact with the redhead who was trapped in a cage and facing the door.

Her eyes held surprise when you made an appearance, obviously not expecting anyone else other than the idiots she spotted on the stage. Your face was definitely not in that crowd.

You put your finger to your lips, a desperate look on your face, enough to have Nami somewhat not show more reaction which would make Cabaji suspicious.

Luckily, Cabaji's back faced you as you took a minute to scan your surroundings. Gulping when you recalled the last time you’d been in here was also in a worse if not similar situation.

The next thing catching your attention was the tied-up man to a sort of spin wheel.

You also noticed the knife right next to his face and realized that was the stabbing sound.

His face though, seemed as nonchalant as it had been since you first saw him. Now that just made you wonder if he even felt any emotion.

You didn't have time to wonder though as you scanned your surroundings for something that could knock out the pirate before he knew of your presence.

Spotting a baseball bat near your side, you lunged towards it, now Zoro’s attention turning to the new presence in the room as he said nothing but just raised an eyebrow in question.

Before Cabaji could look towards where he had a sudden stepping sound and where Zoro’s gaze was now, you concentrated all your force in one place and swung forward.

Splinters of sharp wood and splatters of blood flew through the space as the man groaned in pain, caught off guard and falling on his knees to the ground.

It was enough of a hit to have him collapse in heaves, the knives in his hands falling as well, blood gushing from the back of his head, down his neck.

You threw the baseball bat to the side, lunging forward and wrapping your right arm around his neck. You tightened your upper arm around the area and he began to scratch it, trying to free your hold.

You were breathing heavily, having to use more strength than what you had at the moment and you knew if you didn’t push yourself and end this, you’d end up going back to square one.

He was choking on his breath, you could sense he was losing consciousness, and you knew within a few seconds he’d be out.

And out he was, as you let go of him once his whole body weight leaned into you. He dropped face down, quite an anti-climatic ending to his life considering what they’d been putting your town through.

It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders, being able to take the sort of revenge you’d been wanting since you’d been held captive. Exhaling in relief with deep breaths, also took a lot of your energy which was draining, very quickly now.

“...What the fuck ?”

“What just happ-”

Your gaze snapped towards the others in the room and your eyes widened in shock when you remembered it wasn’t just you in the green room.

The redhead seemed more shocked than Zoro did, you think you’d even seen a bit of fear in her eyes, but it may have been just her being surprised.

Zoro on the other hand, you think this was the first time you saw any emotion, well not that there were many other times considering this was your first time being this close, but he seemed surprised as one would be in that situation you suppose.

You opened your mouth, wanting to say something, and then shut it when you tried to figure out what you should say first.

“Y/N.” You turned towards redhead and then Zoro,

“Uh, my name’s Y/N.” You gulped as you now felt conscious, considering they were scrutinizing you as if you were some sort of experiment gone wrong.

You suppose there was no point in feeling nervous, also remembering they just saw you kill someone.

“I’m not a part of you know, Buggy or whatever’s crew, if that wasn’t obvious enough.” Turning your gaze for a second towards the dead body in front of you.

“I live here, this- this is my town, hometown to be more specific.”

“I came here to find my own weapons and maybe you could help me out too?”

Figuring there was no point in beating around the bush, also knowing you may just get caught if someone had heard the commotion. But also the lives of many were once again, in your hands. This time though, you would do anything to free them.

“How, how do we know you’re trustable?” The redhead asked to which you wanted to scoff, wasn’t the dead pirate enough to prove you weren’t definitely with Buggy? Perhaps she thought you had other motives.

“Look. I don’t care if you trust me or not, what matters right now is if you’re willing to help me so that we can all get what we want yeah?” Stating firmly, you spoke sharply, secretly hoping they would help you.

As if on queue, you heard the screaming of what sounded like Luffy. Talk about perfect timing.

“Fine.” This time, it was Zoro who spoke, in a gruff tone as if he’d rather be anywhere but having this discussion.

“We’ll help you and if you do anything suspicious,” Rolling your eyes at his empty threats, you reminded him of his position.

“You’re the one in captivity right now, aren't you? Consider it a favor that I’m also freeing you.”

You looked around, and you spotted the knife beside the deceased pirate. Picking it up, you held it tightly and moved in front of the moss head.

“I could just leave you both here, but I won’t.”

Now you were only a few inches away from him as you narrowed your eyes at him, his eyes going back to being stoic yet you saw a flare of irritance as if he hated how inferior he felt due to his current position.

“Hold still.”

Without waiting for another second, you moved your hand with the knife to his right one held up. And in one swift movement, you sliced off the rope wrapped around his hand.

It was quick since the knife was pretty sharp and then before you sliced the other one, you warned him.

For the other one, you had to hold his arm in place as you moved, repeating the same movements. It wasn't like you paid attention to how your hand could barely even wrap around the size of it-

“There.” You stepped back, gulping slightly from the proximity, as he threw away the cut ropes. Rubbing his wrists as he stepped forward, not really paying any attention to you now, he just nodded as if to say thanks.

You did take note however how much taller he was compared to you. Possibly, half a head or say six to seven inches. His larger frame did not help in making him seem less intimidating and maybe you really shouldn’t have almost threatened him.

Jeez, it wouldn’t hurt to say it verbally.

Ugh, whatever, why do I care anyway?

“Zoro.” He said which made you turn towards him in confusion, “My name,” He said nothing else to which you wanted to let him know you already knew after his marvelous introduction earlier but you just nodded.

“Mine is Nami.” A voice spoke up, and you remembered what you were going to do next. Ah, the redhead.

“Oh, right.” You smiled sheepishly as you felt a tinge of guilt for almost forgetting she was still trapped in the cage. It wasn’t like you were only freeing them for your advantage, you also didn’t want more to be held captive too.

She seemed like she was going to chuckle, but she just shook her head, not wanting to further emphasize anything she’d observed the past few minutes.

“Well, it looks like it’s pretty loose, did- did you, wait were you picking it with a lock picker or some sort of sharp object?” You’d moved towards the cage, holding the lock and shaking it around to which it did feel a lot lighter than it should, only a few more picks and it would be open.

“Then I don’t need to do much,” You stepped back and decided a small kick would probably break it.

“Just hold on to something.” She nodded as you took a deep breath, raising your right leg and swinging it with as much force, as you did a low roundhouse kick.

The sound of metal falling was heard, as you grinned lightly seeing the lock on the ground.

“I hope that didn’t shake you up too much?” You didn’t know why you’d felt the instinct to be more polite towards her as you rushed forward to open the cage door, considering she was probably the reason they got held into captivity in the first place.

The impact of your kick did shake the cage but since you didn’t put much force into it, Nami’s body weight was able to hold it still in one place.

She stepped out and you saw the relief on her face, she stretched out and groaned in satisfaction due to finally feeling…free.

“Here,” Zoro said as he tossed a sort of stick to Nami. You turned towards him and saw him holding three swords.

Ah, their weapons. I forgot they are pirates.

You saw him put the swords in their sheaths and it made you wonder,

One for each hand, but where does the third one go?

Then you also remembered something,

I came here for my knives-

“So what-”

“Wait!” You interrupted Zoro who was looking at Nami, now they both looked at you, one almost slightly irritant while the other curious.

“I uh- I need my own…knives. They took them from me when they caught me. It’s here somewhere, they hid them here.” You paid no mind to them as you looked around for the stupid box that had them.

It was in a black cupboard, that’s where I saw him keep it, now where else would it be?

Your frustration was slowly turning into panic as you saw no black cupboard. It was as if fate had chosen to make a fool out of you with passing time.

“Do you remember where they were? We-” Zoro was about to protest before Nami looked at him pointedly, “We’ll help you find them.”

“I do remember! I-I do! It was in a box, and a- black cupboard!” Looking around, Nami went ahead passing through the few cupboards, breaking them open to find them empty or with useless items, sitting the urge to grab what mght eventually help in the future. Zoro sighed, deciding he’d get done with this so they can get out quicker. He wasn’t particularly fond of the idea of wasting time but with the small decency he had, he figured he’d help you out since technically you did free them. ( even though he was positive he’d have freed himself soon enough).

You on the other hand, were frantic. It was horrible when they were taken away, but the thought of them being actually thrown away or perhaps even sold to someone else was terrifying. They were the last symbol of what your father was, what your father left left for you.

The thought was about to make you cry until you reached one specific cupboard that didn’t seem to budge open. It was locked.

“Here! I think. I think they are in here.” All movement paused as the other two stopped looking and turned towards you, “But it won’t budge, it’s locked.”

Contemplating how to break it, you didn’t notice Zoro was beside you until his voice startled you out of your daze. “Move.”

He gruffly ordered which made you wonder if he’d ever been thought on how to be polite, but nonetheless you followed as he said and moved behind.

Pausing for a moment, you wwondered if it was now he realised it was nearly impossible to open the firm doors without a key, but before you could voice out your thoughts, you saw him put his hands(making sure not too stare much at the veins that were very much visible and definitely not noting how large they seemed-) on the handles and in one swift motion pull it open with ease.

You just stared in disbelief as they came off their hinges and he tossed them aside as though they weighed nothing, they probably didn’t actually.

“Yeah he can do that, don’t worry, it’s not a big deal for him, atleast.” Nami said as she looked at you, amused a little at your comical shock expression.You just blinked and nodded slowly,

“This ‘is it?” Zoro asked as you looked into the cupboard.

Right, knives. Your knives.

Fate seemed to pity you as you realised lo and behold, there laid your knives, out in the open and in fact not in a box. Quickly going infront, pushing Zoro a little as he mumbled ‘ungrateful brat’ which you chose to ignore as your hands brushed over your set.

Seven. All seven were there.

You took one scanning it thoroughly until your eyes fell upon the initials. Your initials to which, for the first time in a while, you felt the corner of your lip rise into a tiny grin. With another quick scan, you put them in their respective sheaths.

Foolishly enough, the knuckleheaded pirates didn’t think to remove your sheath belt or other sheaths, deeming it unnecessary as they were empty so they wouldn’t be of any use.

Holding one dagger in one hand, you were fairly ready…for whatever would occur.

Zoro was silent, as if it was anything new, but for a brief moment he wondered just how much they meant to you.

Perhaps as much as his katanas did to him?

He didn’t give it much thought, instead turning to Nami. “What’s the plan now? You did come up with a plan right? That’s your thing, plans.”

You figured she was likely a navigator, given from your knowledge of pirates, they’d be the ones who could come up with plans for routes and all other…pirate related stuff.

Nami eyed you for a second, to which you nodded at his words, realising you did not object, but then again what were the options. Her gaze turned towards Zoro and she spoke, a light smirk forming on her face,

“I say, we beat the hell out of every clown we see.”

Since the time you’d spotted Zoro, you think, this was the first time you’d seen a grin on his face, a chuckle being another first.

And you had another realisation, that, it suited him more.

Wiping the sweat of your face as you kicked the limp arm of one of Buggy’s idiot that hit your leg as he fell from your punch. Turns out, you still had it in you to punch and boy did you use all your strength.

Nami was ahead, while Zoro was…behind her as well considering you couldn’t see him anymore.

Pausing for a much needed breath of air, you rubbed your aching hands together. Suddenly you began to feel the adrenaline slowly draining, your head feeling light.

No,I can’t pass out. Not now. Please,

You leaned against a wall, deciding you just needed to sit. For a few seconds at least. You figured everything might be handled by the other two considering you could hear a lot of muffled shouting and talking.

Sighing forcefully, you rubbed your eyes, wishing how life would stop treating you like a scapegoat for all bad omens. You missed your old life, your youth, your joyful town, its people and most of all…you missed your father.

You wondered if he were here, would he have let the people reach to this point?

With that thought you stood up, more determined than ever as you knew what the answer was. He wouldn’t have, he would have fought till his last breath to protect his people. And…and he did.

One thing you knew, you couldn’t let more people suffer. And with the newfound will and strength you stepped slowly into the opening.

The benefit of the dark circus with only flashy lights was that there was a lot of shadows and dark spaces. You, discovered how beneficial it was since you first escaped to the green room and even now as you hid behind what seemed like a chest.

Fuck, fuck I forgot he also has eaten the Devil Fruit.

Helplessly staring as you saw a hand, presumably Bughead’s, strangling Luffy.

Hearing a groan from your hiding place, your eyes widened when you realised Nami had fallen in front of you.

Your eyes moved to Zoro, finding the swordsman in a similar position.

You gulped as you called out to Nami in a low voice, “Hey!” Whispering in a panic, “I forgot to tell you he’s eaten the chop chop fruit, any sort of weapon would be pretty useless!”

Nami looked around in confusion wondering who was speaking, when she saw you she realised it was you and she rolled her eyes, “Well yeah, clearly.” “Now isn’t really the time for sarcasm don’t you think?”

Think quick.

Clenching your hands as you saw the hand strangling Luffy, your eyes darted around clenching your dagger harder.

An idea struck you when you spotted empty craters.

“I think I have an idea-” You whisper-yelled out to her, wanting her to hear before she chose to do anything, “His parts, trap them- trap them into those empty crates!”

As she stood up, her gaze fell upon them and darted back to the body parts around. She realised it was worth taking the chance.

“Luffy! The crates!” She yelled out to him, to which the straw hut guy understood, very quickly you thought.

He rose up still trying to free himself from the hand strangling him, and with one harsh pull he yanked it away from his neck and tossed it in the air like a ball and as though her stick was a bat, Nami flung it across in the crate, trapping it.

Zoro seemed to get the hint, as he moved to the place and you were glad it seemed like the idea worked.

The next moments felt like blur as at one point when Nami tossed a part of the clown in a crate, you remembered rushing to shut it close and putting your weight on it.

It ended. It actually did.

Nami turned towards you as she closed the barrel, a grin on her face as she knew everything was over…for now.

But all you could see was a slow darkness, darker than what was in the circus, legs weighing like anchors as you sank down and finally, you dove head first, into uncocnciousness. Lucky for you, the redhead had faster instincts and before you bust your head open, she caught you.

The last thing you heard was a yell of your name and then it was as though you were in deep waters, mind blank.

The weight of the world got heavier, quite literally as you realised how abundant your limbs felt.

It wasn’t until your eyes began to open when you got the clue that you were indeed alive.

The familiar smell of sandalwood with hints of cinnamon was what hit you first as you inhaled.

“Am I dead?” The brief murmuring was what you registered as your ears felt unclogged, pausing as your croaked voice rasped. Your tongue felt like stone, mouth sandpaper like.

“Wa-water.” You could briefly see a familiar room. Everything seemed familiar, you knew you knew where exactly you were but it was taking some time for your memories to catch up with you.

Get up, get up.

“Now, now what’s the rush child?” A warm voice spoke up to which you turned your head to the man. As you took in his features, you recalled who he was.

“Da-dada?” The old man smiled, his wrinkles deepening as they always did. You noticed his hand holding a glass of water and before you knew it, you took it and gulped it down before you could even say anything.

“Aish- always impatient.” He scolded wanting, ready to yell to slow down so you don’t choke but he knew you’d pay no mind.

Dada was your guardian. He took you in as his own when your father was no more and considered you his own grandchild,because seeing he’d never had any kids to experience grandchildren, he felt the universe was giving him a chance that one night when a ten year old you, came to his door drenched in the rains, shivering as you asked if you could have something to eat.

“Am I dreaming dada? Am I dead?” You said as you scanned your surroundings, noting it was the living room of his hut, feeling as though what happened in the past few hours or even days was all dreams. Surely, it wasn’t that a damn crew of pirates had trapped your entire town and another bunch of pirates, different ones, apparently the good kind ended up saving you as you helped them too.

It seemed like one bizarre fever dream.

“Kid, why do you always insist on me dying! I am old but not too old-” Comically he coughed after his nagging to which you held back your laughter, knowing you’d only get scolded more.

With a half hearted glare, he shook his head, “You weren’t dreaming, at least not until you fainted in that rotten circus-”

“It was real?!” You looked at your hands and noticed faded blue-purple bruises around your wrists, the physical proof needed that yes indeed, everything was and is real. “Is everyone safe? I- are the people okay?” You were in a panic realising your memory that was slowly coming cut off the moment you last heard a yell of your name from Nami, not knowing what happened afterwards.

“Supposing I am here, you’re here in this room, yes i’d say everything is going back to…normal.” He knew it wouldn’t be right to say it was normal, it would take a while to get back to what the town once was but for now they got their freedom back, so with time, he knew it’d all be back.

“So- the- the ‘good’ pirates are also real?” You paused as you tried to frame the proper words and Dada just nodded in amusement, finding your brief amnesia moment hilarious.

“In fact, they are waiting for you.”

“Me- but why?” You wondered why they’d still be here, figuring they’d leave once they got what they required, a little sad knowing you couldn’t thank them but the sadness turned to curiosity and confusion once you processed his words.

“Come on in,” In stepped in the straw hut guy —Luffy— you recalled, a wide grin on his face, as he tipped his hat in greeting.

“Hello! I see you’re awake.” Raising your hand to wave back, your eyebrows furrowed on what exactly he wanted. Nami next stepped in and your gaze turned towards her as she smiled at you.

A light grin on your face forming on your face as she waved a little. “I hope you’re feeling better?”

“I think yeah?” You felt out of it still, but now you were beginning to feel a little grounded to reality.

You noticed a figure stood in the doorway leaning against it, arms crossed as he looked at you.

Zoro. You recalled and rather than any words he just nodded to you to which you just gave a tight lipped awkward smile and turned back to Luffy.

Yeah he’s still attractive in the daylight.

Back there you figured maybe cause you were loopy and distorted you were finding him more attractive than he actually just because he was the only decent male you’d seen in a few months but now you realised you were wrong.

He was definitely more than decent. And yeah more attrac- no stop.

“I-” “So-”

Speaking up at the same time as Luffy, you shut up and gestured for him to continue.

“So you see when we were leaving, sailing away to continue on our mission, I realised something.” You tilted your head at him in confusion as raised an eyebrow. Sitting up on the small bed was the good thing you’d done because at least you got a clear view of everyone.

You turned to Nami, eyebrow still up as you gestured ‘What?’ to which she rolled her eyes and pointed towards Luffy. You knew Zoro wouldn’t help as to what Luffy was saying so you didn’t even look towards him.

“I felt we were missing some thing and really I thought hard as to what we were possibly leaving behind and then it struck me.” You were beginning to hate his dramatic pauses because you did not know what to expect.The unexpected was something you hated.

“It was not some thing we were missing, it was rather someone and that someone is…you.” As he finished his sentence, he looked at you with still the same grin, merely observing your reaction.

“What?” Being taken aback was probably the only way you’d describe what you felt. It confused you, to the point you wondered if he was just fooling with you.

“Haha- um you got me there, nice joke?” You awkwardly chuckled suddenly feeling the stares of everyone in the room piercing through your soul as though they could see right through you.

“What no- pfft! It’s not a joke! I’m serious, join us, join my crew,this time it always seemed there was someone missing and I think finding you in this island was not just a coincidence but it was meant to be.”

You gulped as he looked at you in anticipation, finally turning your attention towards Dada as you observed him, his reaction. It was calm, a calm as if he knew this. You clenched your hands nervously, the bandages bunching up in the palm as you looked back at Luffy and then Nami as she looked at you nonchalantly.

“Luffy.” A deep voice resonated through the brief silence and your eyes darted towards Zoro who looked at Luffy. “Come on, come out, I think you should let them think of their answer”

Before Luffy could protest, he shot him a look that showed he wasn’t going to argue and to follow what he said. His eyes met yours for a moment, nodding in gratefulness as he spoke no further as he shut the door behind.

As they left, you looked back at your hands that laid in your lap. Wrapped in bandages and hints of dried blood. Your mind in a flurry of questions.

“Kiddo?” You were startled out of your thoughts as a hand laid on your shoulder, “Tell me, tell me what’s going on in that little head of yours.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what to do. I don’t think I can do something. I- they are pirates! I can’t join them and- and leave this town, who would- who would take care of the people, who would take care of you? I just- I don’t think I can-” You spoke up what was in your mind, your heart tugging as you thought of how you could become a protector if you left?

“You know what I think? I think this is your chance. Darling, people like you are destined to do great and so far you have been doing that but this, this is a chance to accomplish your dream…your father’s dream. Do you trust me?” You nodded at him as he finished.

Each of his words sunk deeper into your heart as he spoke and you knew what he spoke was in full honesty. Dada would never lie to you as he’d always look for the best for you, so each word in what he spoke held full weight to it.

“You’ll be doing even greater things, and who cares if they are pirates! They saved us didn’t they? Perhaps just like how there’s two sides of a coin, there’s always more than just horrible pirates. Go for it child, this is your bigger fate that you deserve. Besides, the kid seems too adorable to be menacing”

You couldn’t stop the laughter that arose from his last remark. Though as you realised the choice you were knowing your laughter got less and your smile slowly faded.

“And who will take care of you old man? Will you be able to stay without me?” Your eyes held a mischief yet knowing you since you were a pestering child, he could see the underlying sadness of being separated.

“Don’t worry about me yeah? And who are you calling old man?! I can take care of myself just fine alright, I’ll show you!” He moved to ruffle your hair to which you whined at him, knowing how you hated it when someone touched your hair but this time you let it slide, feeling perhaps it would be the last.

“What will I take though- will they give me time to pack-” Pausing briefly as you threw your legs off the bed ready to get up and scanned around. Dada pushed your legs away and dragged a bag from below.

“Already done.” “You-! you were just waiting for the moment to get rid of me-!” You accused him as you looked at him in mock betrayal, the small grin on your face not wavering the slightest.

“I’ll miss you. Don’t die old man, stay alive until I’m back as what I want to be.” He was grinning up until you mentioned his dying once again and the change to a glare made you giggle slightly.

“You should let them know now, green head doesn’t seem like a patient one. Just like you.” You nodded at him as you slowly got up, the feeling in your legs coming back as you stumbled a little, glaring at him at the remark he made about you being impatient.

“He’s a swordsman Dada, I doubt he lacks patience.”

“And aren’t you the same?”

“I use dagge-”

You shut up when you stepped out, choosing to not let the outside audience know you’d been arguing about them only. More specifically, Zoro.

When you stepped out, you didn’t expect Luffy to be right out the door, raising his hand to knock,so you were startled when he was almost right in your face as you looked up. He took a step back, startled himself as a blush rose to his cheeks from the sudden proximity.

Coughing awkwardly, he looked at you in anticipation yet a small part of him was preparing for the rejection because as Zoro had kindly ( as kind as he can) explained, he shouldn’t expect a stranger, nonetheless one who sort of saved them, to be ready to up and about from their life with them but him being the optimist he was, he hoped that his anticipation was right.

You wore a blank expression as you looked at the three.

Dada was right, they are for sure not the regular pirates.

“So-?”

You took a deep breath as you shut your eyes, preparing for an answer,

“Sure. I’ll join you on your…mission.” Out of pure excitement, Luffy seemed to be a touchy type as he leaped into you and wrapped his arms around you as he screamed out while you squealed in surprise.

“Yes! YES! Thank you!” You awkwardly chuckled as you didn’t know what to do with your arms seeing they are trapped. Your eyes darted to Nami as she shook her head and grinned, her blue eyes gleaming with excitement, “Glad you made a choice, probably the right one.”

Zoro’s reaction was pretty questionable because it was a mixture of disbelief— how could you agree— and another you couldn’t quite put a name to it. You weren’t sure if you were still in a daze but you swore you could see a light smirk.

And as you looked back at the straw hut boy, you couldn’t help but fill a newfound sense of hope— the thought of looking forward to something new— filling your heart and leaving you with a wide toothy grin and a glint in your eyes.

Off you began with a leap in your life, only time your teller of what would enfold but honestly, you were more than ready for what would come because afterall only the bravehearted would dare to be stupid by risking it all.

author's note : omg it's out, after five-ish whole months, i'm beginning this series. i was very excited for this when i first thought of it but due to reasons i wasn't able to get into it and stopped midway in the intro chapter/first chapter, nonetheless today i finished the first chapter and officially this series begins! i thought if i'm coming back after so long why not with something nice :) i may or may not have another thing coming in a few days (don't count me on that but i feel motivated to write so who knows!) let me know your thoughts on this !!

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri.do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest. I don't own any of the characters from the movie, rightfully belonging to One Piece creators and the Netflix franchise and also this is a fictional work, not relating to any of the cast in real life.

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songoftrillium · 9 months

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Likes don’t increase visibility to others! Please reblog this to spread the word!

I think Werewolf is an inherently queer medium

This is all a part of a larger long-term project.

I am trying to hold the World of Darkness to higher standards of inclusivity.

Book 1: Cliath

Meet The Gaians — a chosen people blessed by Gaia of whom among them there are heroes who are born, blessed with the power to Change. They have been charged with the duty of protecting her and her brood, and among them are fellowships from every culture. They are largely comprised of Kinfolk. Vanguards of the earth, they follow the Codes and Creeds of renown in chiminage to the spirits in exchange for favor, protection, and power to strengthen their Fellowships and they form one of several primary factions.

A small number of Gaia’s chosen have been gifted the ability to shapeshift through either bite or birth into animals; warriors joining the fight against the Wyrm. The Gaians have many secret names for these shapeshifters between their cultures, and they range across many animal species and tribes, but the most common among them in these times are Garou.

This sourcebook includes information on First Changes, Rites of Passage, how people become werewolves, and what they're fighting for. Book 1 is effectively a players guide, including enough comprehensive character creation rules for people to create rank 1 Garou.

The World of Darkness is implied to exist just beneath a facade that all others take for granted as simply being a world gone wrong. When the Change happens to a Garou, human or otherwise, the world they once knew ceases to be. The Apocalypse is said to be something happening to everything, everywhere, simultaneously, and on every level. This transcends the concept of everything succumbing to a singular event but many small ones.

In many ways, the Garou themselves are emblematic of this Apocalypse, with these former lives ending and sweeping the cub into something far bigger than themselves. A Call To Action is the theme of Book 1.

Book 1: Cliath goes into warborn, bitten, wolf-born, and human-born lives leading up to the change. It presents a curated depiction of the Garou from the perspective of those who would mentor them. There are not a lot of conflicts, profound lore, or politics so much as 'this is what we are, this is what we do.' Functionally, this can be considered a Players’ Guide, containing your attributes, abilities, advantages, and Merits and Flaws. Gifts and rites will be truncated to rank 1 for the most part. Guidelines for new STs will be found here, including enough powers and enemy stats to keep their troupe of players on their toes. This will also include things like chargen and descriptions of attributes, abilities, and advantages. This will also have many details on packs and the importance of one's packmates. And what better way to introduce new players than to have it happen in an all-new setting for storytellers to introduce their players to the game: the first three chapters of Dead Mountain!

Dead Mountain isn't going anywhere. In fact, it will be used as the foundation for this series. Already-finished parts of the Dead Mountain will be released over the next few months, and a delayed release of the full chronicle will come next spring. The scope of Werewolf: the Essentials will strongly diverge from past game traditions. In past core books and settings, there was an intent to showcase the world at large, written from the perspective of people who had never been to these places. In the end, many details were laughably wrong or mediocre representations that didn’t appeal to the groups they represented. We want the World of Darkness to be HUGE. So, we will be laser-focusing this project to represent the Garou from the Pacific Northwest as an example, with guidelines on how to make your own World of Darkness at your locale HUGE too!

CALLING ALL CHARACHS!

We cannot make this happen without your help. We are putting out the call for folx from all parts of the queer, lesbian, trans, bisexual, gay, and asexual werewolf fandom looking to help make this the best possible release we can:

Artists

Horror writers

Editors

Consultants

Hype Wolves to help spread the word

Indie TTRPG creators

Working together, we can create a game that is fun, engaging, and genuinely representative of the diverse community of players and fans who love Werewolf. To help us out, click here We look forward to providing you future updates!

UPDATE: Our team has grown huge, and we're grateful to the fandom for rising up and howling with us! We received far more applications than we were able to fully process, but we promise to deliver you the best possible Sourcebook anthology we can! Meet the Writing Team Meet the Art Team Follow our official account for future announcements! To check out a book preview and help us hire cultural consultants click here

Social Media Shout-out! I offer my thanks to @peltofash and @a-boros-named-seamus for supporting me on the Adren and Athro tiers! Your contributions are directly helping make this game more inclusive!

#world of darkness #werewolf: the apocalypse #dead mountain #werewolf the apocalypse #werewolves #world building #queer werewolf #lesbian werewolf #werewolf the essentials #wta #w5 #werewolftheapocalypse #werewolf wednesday

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staytinyville · 6 months

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Greed

For my Cult of Dionysus Secret Santa @thelargefrye I hope you love this as much as I did.

↣ Summary: You grew up thinking there was something wrong with you when you couldn’t step a single foot into a church without getting sick. It wasn’t until you became friends with 8 boys that your worry of being possessed by a demon passed and you realized where it was you actually came from.

↣ Characters/Pairing: ot8 ATEEZ x Reader

↣ Genre: smut (mdni)

↣ AU/Trope info: Fallen Angel!au, Religious!au, Inspired heavily by Death of a Bachelor album by Panic! At the Disco (Specifically Hallelujah, Emperor's New Clothes, and Don’t Threaten Me with a Good Time)

↣ Word Count: 9,024

↣ Warnings: Very wrong depictions of the church, small amount of blood, I swear you might think it’s grooming but it’s not because I do in fact explain how everything worked, soulmate type deal almost

↣ A/N: This is the longest imagine I have ever written (that isn’t an entire like chapter type fic). But damn if I didn’t love writing this and creating the story. If some of these conversations didn’t make me giggle. Really got my creative juices flowing with this.

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↣ Affiliates: @cultofdionysusnet , @pirateeznet , @wonderlandnet

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You couldn’t remember a time where you didn’t have one of the four boys flocking at your side at all times. You could remember meeting them in grade school–three boys who had chubby cheeks each and eyes that sparkled every time they looked at you. The fourth one came in the following year seeing as he was younger than you all. But still once he made his way into your life things had always been the same.

You, Yunho, Yeosang, and Mingi were all in the same grade–being in the same kinder class at the age of 5. You stayed quiet that first day of classes, opting to stay where the teacher had assigned you to and listen to every instruction. The table was meant for four kids, and seeing as your class only had so many girls, the teacher had made a move to place at least one girl at each table.

So you were destined to be sat with three other boys who beamed the moment they saw you. They each introduced themselves that day, sharing their school supplies or making sure they were always next to you in the line. You had thought you had made great friends that day, having people to play with rather than just waiting for someone to go up to you.

It was an eventful year for your little 5 year old brain to really see that over time the other kids seemed to talk behind your back. It was often petty little toddler drama about a girl who didn’t want to be your friend because you were friends with one of the boys they had a crush on. There was one fight that had escalated too far that six children had to be taken into the front office to have a talk.

Like always you were giggling as Yunho chased after you, Mingi and Yeosang trapping you on the playground to keep you from running away. Yunho had told Mingi and Yeosang to go the other way, wanting to catch you before you got off. But you found another route and ended up on the other side of the playground.

Just as you were about to jump off the last step of the structure, some girls quickly crowded you causing you to flinch from the sudden invasion of privacy. You froze on the steps, standing above them as you looked down.

“Excuse me.” You politely told them, trying to move around them.

They barely moved as you reached the ground, causing you to bump into their shoulders. “You need to stay away from Yeosang! He’s my boyfriend.” One girl called out.

You turned around confused, frowning at the girl’s words. “He’s my boy friend too.” You tilted your head to the side. “He can have more than one friend.” You explained to her. “He has Yunho and Mingi too.”

“No! He’s only mine.” She continued to yell–she even stomped her foot.

“Hey, don’t yell at her.” Mingi said, coming up as the three boys finally caught up with you.

“Yeosang, tell her you're my boyfriend.” The girl pointed her finger at you, causing you to hunch your shoulders back as tears began to form in your eyes from her anger.

Your lips began to tremble, which Yunho immediately saw. He took your hand then, pulling you into a hug.

“I can have more than one friend.” Yeosang told the girl.

“No! You can only have one.” The girl continued.

“Then I want (Y/N). She lets me have more friends.” Yeosang walked over to where Yunho was hugging you, taking your hand into his.

“No! You are mine!” With that the girl quickly shoved Yeosang and Yunho off you.

Her little hands were on your body as she shoved you down onto the floor. You yelped out, feeling the small pebbles digging into your palms as they created wounds. You started to cry loudly, making the girl look at you with wide eyes.

“(Y/N).” Mingi cried, his own tears forming in his eyes as he saw you hurt. The boy quickly dropped down to you, hugging you closely to him. Yeosang sat down too as Yunho looked around to find a teacher.

You, the three boys, the girl who had pushed and someone who saw in passing all were sent to the headmasters to talk about what had happened. Your wounds were used as evidence for the girl's shove, even if she tried to argue that you had shoved her too. But all three boys were backing you up and the kid who was there as a witness solidified things.

That was the day things settled in that you were not going to make many friends who were girls that year. The class already had a few and they all disliked you because you had all the boys wanting to be your friend.

When you three had entered 1st grade, you had all met Jongho who was a year below. You all had an assembly in the gym when you met the boy first. He had sat next to you and gave you a kind smile, kicking his feet from sitting next to you. When you all would get the chance to play on the playground together he would be seen running with all four of you, keeping up.

It was also discovered that he lived in the same neighborhood as you all, right next door to Yunho. So when you would have playdates, all of them were invited. It didn’t feel right when one of them wasn’t present. Like there was a part of you missing.

Jongho had been the first one to ever be missing from some playdate, which led you to realize the problem you had when he was gone. The three boys who had known you for longer than a year were quick to realize when something was wrong with you.

“Are you okay?” Mingi asked.

“I miss Jongho.” You spoke out loud.

The three boys all looked at each other, humming in agreement. “We can go see him.” Yunho suggested, coming to a stand from the coloring all four of you were doing. “His parents told me I can go over whenever I want.” The boy added.

All four of you quickly got up and followed after Yunho. He walked over to the younger boy’s house next door, knocking once he made it past the porch. Jongho’s mother opened the door, greeting all of you. Her eyes lingered on you for a moment, clearing her throat as she turned back to Yunho.

“Can Jongho come out and play with us?” He asked the mother politely.

“Jongho has to finish homework first and then he can play.” She answered.

“Can we help him?” You immediately spoke up, not wanting to waste more time without him. “It will go by quicker.” You explained.

The woman thought for a moment before sighing and allowing you all to walk in. Jongho was in the living room doing his homework at the coffee table. When he saw all of you walking in, he grinned grew and his eyes sparkled.

“They are here to help you finish. Not play.” His mother told him. “You can do that after finishing.”

“I’ll help you.” You told him, sitting down next to him to where your shoulders touched.

So you spent a good 15 minutes helping him out with his work, the three other boys watching and helping out where they could. By the time you knew it, all four of you were outside playing tag like normal. However, you still felt like things were missing.

Because of them, everyone else in your class seemed to avoid you. The girls called you names for always hanging around boys. You tried to do what they did–tried to play their games and ask your parents to dress you up in pretty clothes to fit in–but no matter what you tried to do the others would still alienate you out of games because they knew the boys were always on your side.

You once tried to get them to stop being your friends in 2nd grade but it seemed to prove difficult. Every time you would distance yourself from them, nightmares would plague your sleep leaving you crying at night. You worried your parents so much they tried to find a solution by taking up a religion they thought would be able to help you all.

However it was obvious that did not help. Not until Yeosang had gone up to you the day after you tried to get them to leave you alone and asked if you were okay. That was the first night you had not had a nightmare. It was also the day you realized you couldn’t be without them.

So you grew accustomed to their presence.

You could remember the first time your parents had forced you to go to church with them. It was the Sunday after you made up with the boys and spent a couple of days without nightmares. You were only 7 when you stepped into the place of worship.

You remember it like it had just happened the day before. If only because it was the start of a horrendous life that your parents wanted for you. At least a life they forced on you.

“Hey you go, (Y/N).” Mingi told you, handing you a chalk stick to continue painting along the sidewalk.

“Thank you, Mingi.” You answered him, bending down to color in your poor drawing of a unicorn.

“Anything for you.” The boy beamed, giving you a tooth filled smile.

You blushed, eyes almost closing from how wide you had smiled back. You, along with your four boyfriends as your classmates called them, were all enjoying the Sunday sun drawing on the neighborhood sidewalk.

Yeosang had been kind enough to bring out his chalks and called upon all of you to spend time together. Yunho had come from down the street with Jongho, while Mingi joined you quickly, seeing as he was your next door neighbor.

“(Y/N).” You snapped your head up, seeing your parents looking at you coldly from the front porch.

“We have to go.” Your mother called. Her eyes scanned over the four boys that seemed to crowd you, wanting to share your space. “Now.” She said harshly.

You got up in a hurry, wiping your hands on the grass for a moment so as to not stain your white church dress. “I'll see you guys later.” You gave the boys each a smile, turning around to join your parents in the car.

The moment you stepped through the large doors of the brightly colored church it felt like your throat closed up. The stained glass that showcased different kinds of stories made shivers go down your back. The pews that were lined with more church goers made you miss a step and almost trip on yourself.

And the large cross that was placed directly in the middle of a stone table made you feel nauseous.

“Stop slouching.” Your mother scolded, pushing your shoulders back to straighten you out.

“I don't like it here.” You whispered, swallowing down the bile that was rising in your throat.

You flinched and turned behind you as you heard some screeching noise. It made the hairs on your arms stand, leaving you frightful.

“How can you say that?” Your father shook his head. “This is a house of god. He has done no wrong to you for you to say that. You should be thanking him because we are here to help with your nightmares.”

“My nightmares stopped though.” You told him.

You began to roll your shoulders, your stomach making weird noises as the cross seemed to get bigger the more you stared at it. You squeezed your eyes shut as the screeching was suddenly heard directly behind you, rocking back and forth to get it to go away.

The old man you knew to be the father began to speak to the mass, which only made the swirling of your stomach get worse. “I don't know.” You shook your head, hands clutching onto your dress. “It feels really stuffy in here.” You swallowed again.

And when the father began to recite words from the holy book, things made you go dizzy.

“I'm going to be sick.” And with that you turned to your mother and let go of all your breakfast into her lap.

“(Y/N)!” Your mother screeched, standing up and interrupting the sermon.

And that was the start of your anxiety-inducing journey of attending church every Sunday and throwing up every week. It got to the point where you were terrified of stepping into the church, not wanting to have the acidic taste fill your mouth once again.

“Why does she get sick so easily, father?” Your mother cried. “And it's only in the church!”

“I cannot explain it.” The man sighed, shaking his head. “But there is something that is tethering her to the other world.” He looked out the window to see you playing in the church yard with your four friends.

“Something attached to her.” He finished.

Your parents looked at each other. As they saw you laughing with the young boys, they frowned as they thought about something sinister overtaking your body without anyone knowing.

“An exorcist?” Your mother whispered.

“We can try.”

And so you sat patiently a couple times a week for the next few years as the father received things in a language you didn’t understand. A couple of times it would be your church's pastor, other times it would be someone new they would bring in thinking it would change things. At one point you heard your parents talking with the pastor that they had brought someone in from the Vatican.

However, even then, you sat patiently swinging your legs back and forth as they would repeat the words you had learned by heart at that point. You would repeat it in your head to go to bed, even telling the father of the church that you did that.

It left him and everyone else baffled at how you seemed to get sick so easily in a church but somehow didn’t react to the exorcism. It seemed that whatever was keeping you from going to a house of worship was not what they had originally thought it to be.

“Please we've done everything but there is nothing!” Your father had finally started to cry after years of trying to fix your problems.

“Your daughter doesn't have a demon attached to her.” The pastor explained. “Nothing close to sinister. At least not that we can tell.”

“Then what can it possibly be!?” Your mother was frustrated.

“God is punishing your child for something she has done.” Was all the father told your parents.

They kept trying–taking you back every week to see if one day you would magically stop getting sick at the church. You went your entire grade school and middle school life getting sick to your stomach until you left the wooden boards and felt the dirt under your shoes.

You tried to make your parents stop taking you, but they stuck to their belief that you had something inside of you that needed to be expelled. So you endured it. You cried on Saturday hoping that the next day would be the day everything stopped. The day you were finally free of the sickness that tormented you each time you saw that white building.

Until one Sunday, things took a turn in a direction you didn’t know if you were allowed to go in.

Puberty had come and gone for each of you, changing everything to prepare yourself for adulthood. You had all taken classes that explained most of what it was–what was the human body and what came with it. You were taught what most people needed to know in order to have a smoother transition into your teenage years.

However what the classes didn’t teach you was the sickening feeling you got each time you saw one of the boys. It left you feeling icky because of how much you wanted to be with them–how much something called you to them. You had asked your parents about it and they only gave you angry responses. They had told you to stop seeing the boys for a while but when the nightmares returned you couldn’t stay away.

You had sat down with the boys to ask them about it. And they all seemed to have the same answers.

“I don’t know. Ever since I started puberty I’ve been having these weird dreams.” Mingi told everyone first.

“What kind of dreams?” Yunho asked.

“I think it’s heaven.” You looked at him oddly, tilting your head to the side. You didn’t notice how the other boys all shared the same look.

“I have those too.” Yeosang spoke up. “We’re all there. With other people too.”

“It seems like you’re looking through someone else’s memories.” Jongho explained. “Yunho?”

The boy had a dazed look on his face, seemingly lost in thought. He quickly looked up at the others, giving them a kind smile. He was the oldest out of all of you, probably the smartest seeing as he always had an answer for everything.

“You’ll understand when you finish going through puberty.” He told you all.

“I don’t have those dreams.” You frowned. “They didn’t tell us it was part of puberty.”

“For us it is.” Yunho told you. “You have to wait for yours.”

While you were glad to know you weren’t the only odd one out, you were still left confused at how much Yunho didn’t seem to tell you. And the confusion only reached tenfold after each of the boys began to talk in private or hang out without you. You were upset about those kinds of things but you realized they were boys–you weren’t always going to be there with them.

The Sunday that changed your life was some random one in your Sophmore year of high school.

It was the day your new neighbor had moved in. He was a year older than you and the boys–already a junior in high school. You had been walking home from the library with your four boys, pressing yourself to whoever had been walking next to you that day. You had explained to your parents that you had to finish a report before going to church that day.

“Such a pretty girl.” Jongho brushed your cheek with the tips of his fingers. “My love.” He whispered.

“Did you say something, Jongho?” You asked, turning from your conversation with Yunho.

“No.” The boy grinned. “I was talking with Yeosang.” He answered.

“Are you still going to church?” Yeosang asked, coming up next to Yunho who stood to your left.

You had to lean over to see around the tall boy, smiling grimly at Yeosang. “I have to. You know my parents always make me.”

“Would you like for us to go with you?” Yunho asked, fingers brushing against your own causing yours to twitch.

Things had started to change between the five of you when you had all entered high school. You began to see each of the boys differently. You watched as they grew out of the chubby cheeks and turned into handsome men.

Yunho and Mingi grew to be the tallest out of all of you. Jongho began to fill out his body, his baby fat filling the right places as he began to look like a bear. And Yeosang was probably the one who called all the girl’s attention. His birthmark was the one thing that made you recognize the boy anywhere.

Because of this, you started to question if things were going to be okay. Having a crush was nothing you were new to. However, being in love with all of them made you anxious. It wasn’t normal. Not from what your parents would explain to you. Not from what you read in the book they made you study. It was a sin.

But how could you say anything when you couldn’t even step foot into a church.

“No, it's alright.” You smiled at him. “You guys do enough.”

As your house came into view, you all saw a moving truck parked in the road. The house next to yours–the one that wasn’t Mingi’s–had the door open with people moving in and out.

“You guys have a new neighbor.” Yunho told you and Mingi.

“I guess so.” You spoke up.

You weren’t able to see the subtle look each of them gave each other. They gave small nods of their head before turning back to look at you. “Let's go say hello.” Yunho added.

And so there you were, standing on the porch waiting for your new neighbor to walk out. And when he did, your lips pressed into a thin line as you took him in. He reminded you of the angels you would read about, the ones you would see depicted in pictures. You didn’t think that was how they truly looked. You couldn’t see them as cherubs that flew around with wings.

In your eyes all you could think of is black feathers that fell from the sky. A bright light that shined in your eyes from a part of you that was taken away. You couldn’t look at them for too long, being reminded of something that you didn’t want to be. However for some reason, this was one you couldn’t tear your eyes away from.

“Hello.” He smiled at you. “I'm Seonghwa.”

“(Y/N).” You shook your head. “These are my friends.” You gestured to the boys standing at the end of the porch, all of them giving nods in greetings.

Seonghwa gave them a smirk, nodding his head back before turning to look at you. “It's nice to meet you all.” He spoke out loud.

His eyes trailed down your body, taking note of your nice dress and ruffled socks. “Are you going somewhere?” He asked.

“I have to go to church.” You answered.

“Do you need company?” He immediately asked.

“Not at all.” You shook your head. “I won't be long.” You felt the need to tell him. “Thank you.” You quickly added, minding your manners.

“Anything for you.” Seonghwa smiled softly.

You didn’t question the way he spoke to you. You had other worries on your mind as you drove towards the building that had left you with trauma. However this was the day that changed all that you had known about the church.

You had walked calmly behind your parents that day, head dropped to the floor as you prepared yourself for the nauseating feeling that would ultimately burst the moment you passed the doors. But your shoes scuffed against the floorboards, creaking with each step you took deeper into the building.

You had reached the pews and the seats your parents normally sat at. You sat down, looking around as you waited for something to start giving you anxiety. You had never made it farther than the music that the choir sang–usually letting go of your breakfast by then.

And yet, you were there the whole time, listening as a young man played the piano for the choir. You listened to the father you had become acquainted with as he began the sermon, speaking about the god that the people worshiped. You flinched as each new song began to play as the man skimmed his fingers along the keyboard each time.

And when the final song came to a finish, your family looked at you with wide eyes. Tears began to slip from their face as you had not gotten sick once. Not a single complaint about a bad stomach. Not even a single peep from your lips as you seemed to be in a trance the whole time. What they didn’t catch was the way your eyes were directly at the new boy who played within the choir.

The father was the first to greet your parents in astonishment as he watched you standing directly in front of him after the hour long service. He couldn’t believe that here you were standing next to him without so much as looking green. Even he couldn’t believe his eyes.

You couldn’t look him in the eyes, choosing to glance around at the church that you had never gotten the chance of admiring. Still though, the glass stained windows with depicted stories left you unsettled–like a bug crawling under your skin.

“You don’t like them either?” You turned your head, facing a boy who had blue hair.

He was looking up at the windows, sucking his teeth as he sneered at them. When he turned back to you, your eyebrows rose. You got the same feeling you had when meeting Seonghwa, flashes of falling feathers seeping into your mind. Your mouth opened as you let go of a breath, pressing your lips together as you didn’t know what to say.

“Oh, this is Hongjoong.” The father introduced the boy to you and your parents. “He’s one of the orphan boys the church took in. They will be under my tutelage.”

You kept your eyes on him, trying to find out what it was that made him so familiar. He reminded you of your friends, like you had known them forever. Like he meant something more to you.

“An amazing boy with the piano. A protege, honestly! If he hadn’t insisted on wanting to become a father, I would have had him become a performer.” The father laughed.

Your parents beamed, telling Hongjoong he was an amazing pianist and that his performance was grand to watch. With your parents occupied over talking about your sudden healing, Hongjoong took the liberty of taking you away to the piano, sitting down carefully as he began to lightly press on the keys.

“You did play beautifully.” You told him. “I had never heard something like that.”

Hongjoong laughed, smiling brightly at you. “It means a lot coming from you.”

Hongjoong began to play another tune, causing you to become dizzy with an emotion you couldn’t explain. While he continued to enjoy his playing, you took the liberty of moving up the little stage at the front and behind the stone table.

Nothing seemed to cause you any harm. Not until you would catch sight of a mis-depicted angel. You subconsciously would sneer at them, quickly turning your head to avoid further headaches. You could feel the statues mocking you, laughing at your expense. When you reached the cloth covered stone table, you turned, looking out over the empty church.

Taking in the deep breath you felt something buzzing around the building, malice seeping out of its presence. You frowned, shoulders shaking from the ghostly being. You felt fingers touching you harshly, as though they wanted to hurt you–pulling at your hair, pinching your skin.

Hongjoong had stopped playing, turning around to face you with wide eyes. But you were too in your own head to notice that something had moved the large cross off its hanger behind you.

All you heard was your mother’s scream and people rushing forward. You turned around to find what it was they were looking at, only catching sight of the large wooden structure heading towards you. It never touched you though, someone having reached you on time and quickly saving you from a large gash to the head and possible death.

You flinched a bit, eyes closing shut as you were brought out of your stupor. You turned to find your savior, catching sight of a man with cat-like eyes. He had broad shoulders, ones you were gripping onto to keep from falling over.

“Are you alright, heaven?” He asked you quietly, his lips a breath away from yours.

You nodded your head softly, feeling your legs come back to life as you tried to stand on your own. Your fingertips tingle when you feel his own slot themselves between yours, interlocking your hands. He helped you to stand on your own feet, keeping you at arm's length.

You didn’t notice your family and the father quickly making their way over to you. You didn’t hear them fussing and asking you if you were okay. All you could see was the way the boy’s eyes seemed to sparkle as they looked at you.

“Thank you so much, son!” Your father patted him on the back. “You have no idea how terrible that would have been if (Y/N) had been hit.”

Your mother was frowning at the cross, keeping an eye on the wood figure that was on the floor in shards. “You don’t think-” You mother began but was stopped as another boy came up to the statue and quickly began to clean it up.

The father began to speak to him, causing you to look over at him. They were discussing how the statue had fallen, taking note of the nails that had been embedded into the wall had popped out. The father turned back to your parents, but you kept looking at Hongjoong and the other two boys cleaning up the cross.

“No,” The father waved your mother’s worry away. “It was faulty screws.” He pointed up to where the cross was. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

You felt sick to your stomach as your eyes zeroed in on the screws. Your lips turned up, hearing someone snicker in your ear. You looked over your shoulder, trying to find the issue. It wasn’t until you heard someone’s sharp intake of breath that you turned around to find the problem.

“Your hand.” You said, finding the boy who had started cleaning up first cradling his finger that had a bleeding poke from a splinter.

You leaned down next to him, between the one who had saved you cradling his hand closer to you. He watched as you carefully took out the splinter before moving his finger up to your mouth. You didn’t know what came over you, or how it was you knew to do that. But you slowly licked over his wound, cleaning the small droplet of blood from his palm.

It wasn’t a lot, maybe a drop or two that seemed to cause a small dribble. As you pulled away from him, you looked up to see all three of the boys staring at you with wide eyes, mouths agape. Your own eyes went wide, quickly letting go of the boy, coming to a stand.

“No!” The boy spoke up, standing next to you. “Don’t be sorry, my love.” He told you, eyes bright as he looked at you.

“You’re (Y/N). Right?” He continued, holding his hands together at his chest making him look cute.

“Yes.” You nodded slowly, a bit speechless from his looks.

“I’m Wooyoung.” The boy smiled. “The man who saved you is San.” He gestured to the broad shoulder boy. “It feels so great to be with you.” He reached a hand out for you, gently cradling it with his.

You didn’t question any of their words that day. You didn’t think much about their nicknames for you or how they spoke as if they had known you for ages. Any sane person probably would have, but you weren’t normal. At least not until you had finally met all 8 of them. They made you feel whole–like that was a part of you missing this whole time. For once in your life, there was nothing wrong with who you were–what you did.

At least that was what you thought. Your family thought something else completely.

When you finished high school, they had tried to take you away from them all. They didn’t like how much they all doted on you. At least not all of them. They didn’t like that you spent so much time with them–alone. They would yell at you, call you names that made you look down in shame.

You knew all about those people who roamed the streets at night, looking for company. That wasn’t who you were. Wasn’t who you wanted to be. But you couldn’t let go of them. You needed them all there with you or else it wouldn’t feel right. They meant everything to you, just as you meant everything to them.

But still, you chose to appease your parents. You would go to the church–confess your sins to the father who had known you since you were a child. He wouldn’t tell you anything but you knew he would repeat what you said back to your parents. And when you did you would get looks that showed they were disgusted with you.

First they were terrified of you, worried that something was inside of you that was not meant to be there. Now they were disgusted, and knew exactly what it was that made you sick in church. God knew the kind of person you would become so they punished you for it. Now you had to repent to fix the mistakes you were bound to make.

You were going for your weekly confession, bringing along the five boys who had always trailed you since high school. The other three were waiting on the other side of the church doors, any moment they would come out to greet the others as they would wait for you to finish and then walk you home.

“We'll wait out here for you.” Seonghwa spoke to you, leaning down to touch his forehead with yours.

“I'll be quick.” You told him, giving the other four boys a smile.

You walked in as you had for the past 20+ years of your life. You took in a breath, knowing that the sick feeling wasn’t going to come up after so long. Your feet shuffled towards the box that you had memorized inside and out. You knew where every splinter was, every scratch, every paint stain. It was something you were once again forced to do–even after so many years.

You sat down on the bench, closing the door behind you and waiting for the father to get situated. When he did, you leaned back, head bumping into the back rest.

“Forgive me father for I have sinned.” You spoke monotonously, already knowing how things were going to go.

“What troubles you my dear?” The voice spoke up, catching your attention as you sat up.

“Hongjoong?” You questioned, turning to the side where the father would normally sit.

You could barely make out his dazzling grin, the way his cheeks rose as he smiled at you with glee. You knew how he looked–you always enjoyed looking at all of them. But you were here to confess about him, you couldn’t exactly tell him about it now.

“Hello, my dear.” Hongjoong smiled.

“Where’s the father?” You asked.

“He is allowing me to take his place for the time being. Let me get some practice in–think of me as the father.”

You sat back, sighing as you realized you weren’t going to be able to get out of it. You wanted to get it off your chest–having had it pent up for the last couple of days from when you last confessed. It was always the same thing over and over again. But with Hongjoong now being the one to listen to you, things changed.

“But that's why I'm here, Hongjoong.” You sighed, dropping your head back. “I have to confess I have not been on the right path.”

“And what path is that?” He asked, sounding professional.

“One of sin.” You answered.

“Is that what you think of it?” He spoke up, eyes on you as he kept his head forward. “Why?”

“Because I am not meant to be greedy.” You whispered, turning away from him knowing he was one of the reasons.

“You think it’s greedy?” You heard him lean forward, chin moving to rest on his hands. “To have feelings?”

You didn’t know how it was he knew, but it seemed like he did. He knew where it was you were going with the whole thing. Of course he did–him and all the others always knew.

“It’s greedy to love.” You explained to him.

“It’s how we procreate though.” Hongjoonf shrugged, moving to sit back again. “So why is it?”

“Because I’m not supposed to love 8 men.” You cried.

He kept trying to get you to say it, and you did. You didn’t know if you were meant to–this wasn’t the normal conversation you would always have with the father. All he knew from all that you would tell him was that you spent too much time with men and it left you bothered.

Truly it didn’t. It left your family bothered, so you would try to lessen their anger by doing as you were told. But here you were finally confessing the real reason you felt like you weren’t good enough to be a person. Because you had been so traumatized that you began to think what you were feeling wasn’t right.

“It’s not okay! I am to be the wife of one man only. I have to give him children and continue my family line.” Your voice quieted down, looking down at your hands.

“And?” Hongjoong only shrugged.

“I can't love all of them!” You gasped out, coming to a stand but immediately sitting back down knowing there was no space. “That's being greedy.”

“I don't think you should worry about being greedy.” Hongjoong sighed, leaning back nonchalantly. “You are your own person who deserves everything she wants.”

He paused for a moment, making you turn to look at him. You couldn’t see him completely but you knew he was in thought.

“Do you love us?” He asked you suddenly.

You felt your breath stop for a moment. Your fingers twitched on your lap, clenching onto the fabric of your skirts. “It's wrong—”

“Do you love us, (Y/N)?” He asked again, stopping you from continuing your rant.

You had never thought of the word when thinking about the boys. You knew that there was something there that seemed to call to you but you had no idea that it was love. You couldn’t be without them just as they couldn’t be without you. You would get physically sick not being able to spend time with them together.

There wasn’t a time where you wouldn't think about them. Wouldn’t want them to be at your side to take care of you. You knew they meant so much to you. A lot more than you were willing to understand. It went beyond physical emotions. It was something out of this world.

“Yes.” You answered quietly.

Hongjoong paused once more, the silence filling up in your throat as your words lingered in the air.

“Then come home to us.”

You went home that day. To your parents waiting for you to have dinner with the rest of your family. Watching as they all bowed their heads in prayer, reciting the same words as the ones from the morning at breakfast. Calmly eating with your head down to avoid catching your parents eyes.

You took slow bites, making sure you didn’t catch too much attention to yourself. You tried to make yourself small, but of course, even if you did, you were still noticeable in the eyes of your parents.

“Did you go see the father today, (Y/N)?” Your mother started, calmly eating as though she wasn’t about to cause a scene.

“I did.” You answered.

“And those boys?” She continued.

“What about them?” You didn’t look at her, trying to show that you weren’t really bothered by her question.

“Did you see them?” She asked again.

“No.” You swallowed your food.

You didn’t think your parents were dumb. You knew even if you denied your mother’s question they would know that you had been with the boys. It was the same thing over and over again. As it has always been since you were a little girl. It wasn’t physical abuse but mentally you were exhausted.

Before bed, you sat on your knees, clasped your hands together and recited the same prayers you had for years. Your parents made you sleep with the door open, they could hear you skip a day of prayer. It was the routine. What you had engraved in your head for years.

It was easy to fall asleep. Easy to fall prey to a dream that makes you gasp for air. A dream that showed you just the kind of life you used to live. With whom you used to live.

The walls were too bright, you couldn’t see anything past what was above you, what was next to you–under you. The feathers felt soft under your fingertips, almost like you were on a bed instead of the ground. You could feel their hands softly touching your skin with their fingertips–it made you close your eyes as tears began to pool.

“Don’t cry, my heaven.” Your eyes slowly opened, coming face to face with Seonghwa.

You hummed, a hand moving up to touch his cheek. “Seonghwa.” You whispered, stroking your thumb along his cheek.

He smiled at you, moving back. His hand drifted down your arm, pulling you to a sitting position. As he sat behind you, pulling your back to his chest, you noticed someone else coming up at your side. They lightly grabbed onto your hand, pulling it up to kiss your knuckles.

“Jongho.” You breathlessly spoke up, smiling at the man.

“Yeosang.” You said next, your other hand moving to grab onto the man who walked on your other side.

“My love.” He whispered.

“Heaven.” You looked down, giggling as Wooyoung pressed his cheek to one of your thighs.

Letting go of Jongho and Yeosang, you ran your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly.

“Sannie.” You smiled, watching as the boy pressed his own cheek to your other leg. You did the same as you did to Wooyoung, watching as his eyes closed and he hummed in content. “Sweetheart.” He hummed, giving your knee a kiss.

You almost hit his cheek as your body tingled from his lips pressing against your skin. You giggled, stroking his skin as he reveled in your touch.

You felt two more people make their presence known at your sides, touching your shoulders as their heads nuzzled closer to your neck.

“You made it.” Yunho breathed against your skin.

“We have been waiting for so long.” Mingi left a small kiss on your neck, leaving you to close your eyes in pleasure.

“Mingi.” You answered breathlessly, rolling your head to give him more room for kisses.

Opening your eyes, you turned the other way to smile at the boy at your side. “Yunho.” You smiled, moving to rub a thumb along his cheek.

You took the moment to look around some, noticing there was one still missing. You knew he was here–you always knew when they were all there.

“Hongjoong?” You quietly called out, looking in front of you as a silhouette appeared and began to walk closer to you.

The other’s began to run their fingers along your skin again, applying both light and harsh pressure. All of your skin was on display, nothing hidden to their eyes just as nothing of theirs was. You could feel their skin on yours, feel their warmth radiating onto your very being. It made you dizzy. Made you want to fall into the bed of feathers and lay with them as you were meant to.

“We are yours to please.” San whispered, rubbing his cheek against your thigh.

“Yours to do as you wish.” Wooyoung’s hands moved along your other thigh, messaging the skin.

“We are here as your lovers.” Songhwa whispered in your ear from behind you.

“You are our one true treasure.” Jongho squeezed the side of your hip.

“We will do all that you ask of us.” Yeosang’s hand came up to brush against your breast.

“The reason we live.” Yunho’s lips brushed against your cheek, nose bumping along your temple.

“The final piece of our earth defying souls.” Mingi kept his lips pressed to your neck.

Someone pulled at your chin, making you look up at him. You breathed out your mouth falling open as Hongjoong kept his lips just enough away from yours to make you tremble.

“Our angel.” He was the first to take your lips.

The others moved out of the way as Hongjoong leaned over you, pushing you back against Seonghwa. His knee placed itself between your legs, causing you to move your hands down to his naked thigh. You let go of him though when more hands started to roam your body once more.

You felt hands start to play with each of your breasts, fingers lightly skimming over your nipples. Two more pulled your thighs apart, hands slipping between them as they messages your heated skin. A pair began to rub at your hips, pressing his fingers into your soft skin. Separate hands rubbed at your neck, thumbs pressing into your pulse point causing you to feel dizzy from the lack of air.

Hongjoong leaned back from your lips, watching as your eyes fluttered open. “Tell us what you want.” He whispered.

He leaned back then, allowing you room to look at them all. Seonghwa’s lips skimmed the shell of your ear. Mingi and Yunho kissed your shoulders. Jongho and Yeosang attached their lips to the side of your breast. San and Wooyoung placed open mouth kisses along the side of your hips.

“I want all of you.” You breathed out.

“Then take us.”

And so your head fell back onto Seonghwa’s shoulders, eyes falling shut as you felt all of them attach their lips to your body. They all kiss and suck at their own pleasure, leaving marks on your body that let them know who it was that you belonged to. They all left their own special marks, different shapes and sizes–in different parts of your body.

You felt them everywhere. Felt them touch you in a way you had never been touched. They showed you things you would never be able to see on your own. They made you feel things you had never felt before. It was euphoric, a feeling you would never be able to get enough of. You needed more–something they gave you.

You had them all. One by one they took the time to worship you.

Hongjoong was the first, taking your lips and allowing himself to feel your warm walls around him as he laid on top of you. Seonghwa came next, keeping you sitting on his lap as you bounced with his thrusts. Yunho had you lay on your back, legs held up to rest on his shoulders as he held your thighs. Yeosang had been the most gentle, spooning you from behind as he kept one of your legs up to keep you from getting tired.

San had you on top, sitting on him as he laid down and used a hand to grope your breasts. Mingi didn’t hold back and held you up against him, groaning and whining in your ear. Wooyoung was a childish one, taking you from behind while he held you against his chest and his fingers lightly pushed into your neck. Jongho was the last one, but he was the longest, taking his time and slowly moving to keep you from burning out after so many orgasms.

And once you were done, heat leaking with so much cum, you still felt full and complete. Even if you were tired and probably hallucinating from everything but you knew now what you were. What you had been. And you knew the reason you were casted out. It was the very same thing that had stuffed you full one by one.

You had been greedy in heaven.

It was somewhere in the middle of the night when you had woken up. Fog was settling in outside as the streetlamps illuminated the neighborhood. It reminded you of a horror movie but you knew where the real horrors lied. You felt something had changed in your body. Something that didn’t leave you scared of who you were or what you had.

You were no demon from hell that had come to create chaos. You were a daughter of god who had chosen to love instead of following orders. You were an angel. The angel who had 8 men waiting for her at their home.

And so you left in that moment, pajamas still on your body, feet bare as you walked towards the church you grew to hate so much. You could hear the whispers the closer you got, but you only sneered their way. You jaw locked, not wanting to hear another moment of their mindless gossip.

When you threw the door open, the whispers stopped, everything coming to a harsh silence as you looked down at the aisle and towards the altar.

Hongjoong sat in the middle of the stone table, playing with an hourglass in his hands as he flipped it back and forth. The other seven boys were scattered around, turning their heads the moment they heard you enter. You walked closer, fingers twitching at your side.

“Why were we casted out?” You asked, taking the steps that led to the small stage.

“Because our love was seen as greedy.” Hongjoong stood up from the table. “What we do isn’t what others think is right.”

“Father would never think that.” You told him, looking at all the boys who gave you small smiles.

They grew closer to you, Hongjoong taking your hand and turning you around to sit on the table. They began to surround you as they had in the dream, touching your body.

“It wasn’t father.” Yunho answered you. “It was our brothers and sisters.”

“They would never understand what we have.” Jongho told you. “Too jealous of the power we had together.

“But yet, father gave us the chance to find it here–on earth.” Seonghwa smiled, lips brushing against your hair. “We have you here with us now.”

Your lips pressed together as you glanced over all of them. All those feelings you had since you were a child were making sense. The time when the boys went through puberty and were having dreams of heaven. The times when they would hang out without you. You understood where it was they were coming from, but it only left you confused on why you had taken so long to notice where you were in your past life.

“Why did it take me so long?” You asked. “Why were you all able to find the truth before me?”

They took a moment to look at each other, telepathically coming up with an answer to your question. They already had it but they had to make sure they worded it in a way that you understood.

“Father had us know the truth before you did because you went through challenges that kept you from learning the truth” Yeosang explained to you. “Your parents prevented you from seeing who you truly were which led to you having inner struggles with yourself.”

“The moment you realized you loved us was the moment you found your past self.” Wooyoung smiled at you, eyes tearing up at the thought of you finally being with them fully. “Your parents were filling your pretty head with nonsense about the church that made you question everything about us and yourself.”

You moved a hand out to wipe at his eyes, making the boy nuzzle into the palm of your hand.

“We never questioned what we felt for you so we found ourselves quickly.” Mingi began. “We all understood once we finished puberty. It was when we all got our wings back.” Mingi said.

“Wings?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

The boys suddenly grinned, all perking up at the idea of showing you something magnificent. San, Wooyoung, and Yeosang all moved to stand in front of you, hands stretched out not wanting to let you go for a moment.

The only things in the whole church that had lighting were the candles practically finished burning through and the bright full moon that was on full display behind you, but you could easily see the boys clear as day. They stood a good amount apart, squaring their shoulders and the moonlight that showed through the window behind the pillars.

A cloud suddenly passed over the moon, blocking out the light for just a moment. But in a quick second the moon flooded its light causing shadows to fall behind the boys. Your eyes went wide and a small gasp fell from your lips as dark shadows of wings displayed themselves on the pews of the church.

All three boys had different shapes, different places that had holes but you could clearly see them. Just as quickly as they appeared, they quickly disappeared the moment another cloud passed over the moon. You looked up at them, breathless from the stunning sight.

“They’re beautiful.” You whispered.

The three boys smiled at your statement, quickly making their way back over to you. They reached their spots, finding a way to touch you once more.

“They are nothing compared to what they used to be. But it means so much to hear you say that.” Yeosang softly told you.

You felt at home. Safe in their arms and caressing touches. You had nothing to worry about now that you knew the truth. Nothing to hide from. And no parents to think about anymore. You were your own person–much more powerful than they could ever be. There was no reason to be scared of them anymore. You were someone who found their heaven.

“What about heaven?” You asked suddenly, remembering your old home.

“We don’t need it so long as we are together.” San kissed your knuckles. “You are the last piece of our puzzle.”

“Welcome to our heaven, my love.” Hongjoong kissed you then.

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