#and THEN the tree of life didn’t even protect him from being turned to stone

[ticktockmyclockworkhart]

I won’t hear a WHISPER of slander about my main man (this is directed more at the actual game’s writers than the fandom)

[little-diable]

Run – Jasper Hale (smut)

This is dark, please be aware of the warnings! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Jasper is up for a chase to finally claim (y/n); basically just pwp

Warnings: 18+, smut, outdoor piv, rough piv, heavy dubcon, dark!Jasper, chasing/being hunted, choking

Pairing: Jasper Hale x fem!reader (2k words)

The sound of leaves being crushed beneath her boots rang in (y/n)’s ears. She had her eyes focused on the trail, surrounded by trees, as she kept on walking. She had been desperate for a distraction — some time away from her home and the walls that kept closing in on her whenever her thoughts began to wander.

Soft rain was falling from the sky, slowly soaking through her sweater, barely managing to protect her from the cold creeping up her limbs like a snake slithering from Eden. (Y/n) tried to keep herself focused on the steps she took, careful not to trip over branches and stones as her surroundings grew darker. She wasn’t a stranger to this trail; she had walked it numerous times before, but today it felt different, darker, and more haunting than all those times she had walked it with a friend.

Her body jerked to a halt as the sound of a branch snapping apart rang in her ears. Goosebumps rose on her skin, just like the hairs at the nape of her neck. She could instantly tell she wasn’t alone. Even though her mind told her that it had probably just been a deer, her gut told her something different. 

“Hello?” (Y/n)’s soft voice echoed through the dark forest, carried by the rain that now fell heavier, as if Mother Nature was warning her, telling her child to return home before she could lose her shot at this life. A shaky exhale left (y/n) as she slowly turned back around, knowing that it was time to leave this forest for good. But she didn’t get far, once again forced to a halt as her eyes found a pair of golden ones. “Jasper?”

The man stared at her; he was standing a few feet away from her, studying (y/n) with a smirk glued to his pale lips. His smirk had something dangerous about him — something that made her heart beat faster, telling her to prepare for whatever was about to come upon her. 

“Jasper? Are you alright?” Her voice wavered as her eyes stayed glued to Jasper’s features. She had always been interested in him — the one who had always managed to draw her closer without many words shared between them, the one who had always piqued her interest as if her body and soul knew that he’d do her good. At least until this very moment. 

“Run.” The second the words had left Jasper, (y/n)’s body forced her to run, stumbling down the trail as she ran as fast as her legs managed to carry her. Tears welled up in her eyes as fear began to nibble on her soul, whispering to her that her end was near, telling her that whatever Jasper was about to do to her would leave her trembling and panting. 

“You’re fast; that’s admirable.” He was suddenly standing in front of her, catching (y/n)’s frame as she collided with his frame. She was shaking like a leaf in his grasp, staring up at the man who still wore that sinister smirk paired with the look that told her she wouldn’t manage to escape him. 

“What do you want from me?” One tear managed to drip from her eye — a tear he caught with his thumb, wiping away the salty drop. Jasper forced her to move with him, allowing him to press her against an old tree. She was trapped between Jasper’s front and the tree, telling her that there was no escaping, forced to follow his every command.

“You’ve always been a frightened little thing, haven’t you, darlin’?” Jasper’s voice dripped with something she couldn’t pinpoint, drawing another shaky exhale from her parted lips. “I always felt your eyes on me, wondering what you were thinking about. Tell me, darlin’, were you scared of me?”

(Y/n) could only shake her head, unable to reply with words. It was true – she hadn’t feared him back then, drawn closer by her curiosity and the crush on him she had always fostered. Jasper’s chuckles forced her to flinch, staring up at him as he dipped his head down, his lips almost ghosting over hers. 

“And now? Are you scared?” It took her a second to react. Even though her mind told her to speak up and tell Jasper that she wasn’t scared, her body whispered to her to close the gap between them. There was no use in running; she could only win if she managed to distract him. 

She shifted her weight onto her toes to close the gap, letting her lips press against his cold ones, a shared kiss she had always dreamt of as a teenager — wondering how it must feel to be kissed by the mysterious guy. Jasper instantly reacted to the touch, pushing her against the tree once again while cupping her cheek with his right hand, while the other found her waist.

He forced her lips apart, letting his tongue meet hers in a possessive manner – she was his at that very moment, the one to follow his every command, the one to chase, the one to hunt, the one to own. The soft moan clawing through (y/n) left Jasper chuckling in glee, parting from her to give her a few moments to catch her breath while he stared down at her. 

“How about a deal?” Jasper murmured his words, while (y/n) was heavily panting, struggling to wrap her head around the past moments. She stared up at him with confusion tugging on her features, waiting for him to keep on speaking to explain to her what he wanted to do to her. “I’ll give you another shot at running, but if I catch you, I’ll get to fuck you out here.” 

“What?” Her words were followed by a few chuckles, not believing the words he had just murmured. But the hand finding her throat, pinning her head against the old tree, cut off any sounds from leaving her, forcing her to quiet down. 

“I’m not in the mood for jokes, darlin’. Do we have a deal?” (Y/n) was all too aware that he hadn’t told her about what would happen should she manage to escape, but deep down she was well aware that she couldn’t outrun him – not after the chase that had happened only minutes ago. 

The second she slowly nodded, Jasper gave her a push, letting go of her throat. Her body was aching as (y/n) began running, not daring to look back to try and get as much distance between her and Jasper. Her heart was pounding, and her lungs were begging for some air, but she couldn’t give in and was solemnly focused on running. Whatever was happening left her torn between fear and excitement; she was not used to seeing Jasper like this. 

He seemed like a predator, as if he had done this chasing thing before, knowing exactly how it would play out. (Y/n) could only hope that he hadn’t done this with other women, not liking the thought of Jasper claiming other women. While her thoughts began to wander, the thick trees blurred by, past her running self that would give in way too soon, unable to fight against her exhaustion. 

But before (y/n) could even think about slowing down, she was ripped to the ground, her eyes forced to meet his darkening ones. Jasper was hovering over her, straddling her aching body to keep her trapped once again. 

“I won.” Those were the last words Jasper spoke before pulling her back onto her feet. Everything moved too fast; one second she was pressed against his front, and the next he had her back pressed against another tree. His tongue fought its way back into her mouth, not giving (y/n) a chance to protest as he undid the button of her jeans. “I can’t wait to claim your cunt; I bet you’re already needy for me, aren’t you?”

Something inside of her forced (y/n) to shake her head, momentarily overcome by fear as it began to dawn on her what would happen in the next moments. It was true, her body begged for him, wanting to feel him buried deep inside of her while he fucked her against the tree, but her mind forced her to snap out of her hazy thoughts. This wasn’t right. It shouldn’t be like this. But fuck, she wanted him — every part of him. 

“No? You aren’t? So my fingers won’t be coated in your arousal when I touch you?” He pushed his hand into her panties, groaning at the feeling of her arousal sticking to her folds. She had been dripping for him since their first kiss, overcome by her needs — the deep need to be claimed by Jasper in the most primal way imaginable. “You liar.”

She choked on her gasps as he pushed two fingers into her tightness, while his cold lips found her pulsepoint. (Y/n) heard him chuckling, a sound that sounded all too far away as she was sucked into a trance, solemnly focused on his touch. His cold thumb found her pulsing bundle, circling it with quick movements to leave her shuddering. 

“I should punish you for lying to me, but for tonight, I’ll let it pass. I’ve been dreaming of your tight cunt for too long.” And then everything began to spin, one second he had his fingers buried inside of her, and the next he had pulled away to force (y/n) to step out of her jeans. Within seconds, he had picked her up, only to force his cock into her tightness.

Both moaned in unison at the unfamiliar sensation, bodies being united for the first time, finally giving in to their longing. Jasper fucked her against the tree as if it was their only shot, the only moment they’d get together, a man on a mission, while (y/n) lost all grasp on reality. Tears dripped from her eyes, running down her cheeks as if every fear was leaving her body, slowly allowing her to relax. Whatever power Jasper held over her, it guided her like an invisible force, forgetting every darkening sensation.

“You’re even tighter than I thought; you’re perfect for me.” She gasped against his lips, tugging on her blonde curls to try and stop herself from giving in too fast. Jasper fucked her rougher than she had ever been fucked before; he didn’t care about bruising her or the air she needed to breathe, letting his hand rest on her throat all too carelessly. 

(Y/n) should have cared; she should have pushed him away, should have tried to leave him, but her body wasn’t ready to part with him. Every fiber of her body was aching for him, needing to be as close to him as possible — the man who had owned her heart for years, the one she’d think of in desperate moments. 

Today she didn’t care about her dignity; today she didn’t care about being treated right; she was only focused on her arising high. Her orgasm would claw through her way too quickly, urged closer by her shaking fingers, finding her clit, rubbing it fast enough to give herself the needed push.

Jasper watched her come undone with a smirk, grinning at (y/n) while he kept burying his cock inside of her. She stared up at him as if he was the devil, forcing her to realise that she was his from today on, a deal she couldn’t pull away from. He came with a groan, letting his forehead press against hers while their bodies stayed connected. 

“Don’t wander through this part of the forest if you don’t want to be chased; remember that, darlin’.”

[riverlikethelake]

A Long Way Home

Aonung x Omatikayan!Fem!Reader 

Summary – Leaving your life behind to move to the reefs wasn't your plan, all you really want is a peaceful life with your family, but one of the Metkayina boys keeps staring at you...

Contains: Mentions of death, slow burn (?), Spider is mentioned in a good light (please bear with me), complex parental relationships, heavy development on platonic/family relationships

pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5

Word count: 4k

“This is our home! This is my home!” Neytiri cried, you pulled away from the tent, pursing your lips. You sat back and watched as Tuk peeked under the tent, Neteyam and Lo’ak leaning in further. Kiri looked back at you but didn’t move from her place listening to the conversation.  

You could hear Jake arguing back but you couldn’t make out the words, not that you needed to. As much as it pained you to admit it, Jake was right, the forest wasn’t safe for the Sully’s anymore, they already took your brother, and he knows everything about life here.  

The weight on your chest only became heavier. Before anyone could notice, you stood up and quickly made your way to the edge of the cavern your clan had taken refuge in.  

Spider wasn’t your biological brother, hell he wasn’t even the same species anymore but for a long time it felt like he was the only one you truly had.    

You were almost a year younger than him and born after the humans left earth, your mother was allowed to stay behind on Pandora. Unfortunately, that meant medical supplies were stretched thin and your mother died soon after you were born. Ironically the Omatikaya were celebrating Neteyam’s birth only a few minutes earlier.  

It wasn’t till you got older that Norm and Max noticed how sickly you were, scratches and bruises weren’t a problem on Spider, but for you they stayed and got infected easily. Staying outside after dark when it got cold was too risky, Neteyam and Lo’ak often had to piggyback you to Hell’s Gate because you lost track of time or ran out of stamina.   

Everything changed when you turned 6, after a strenuous forest exploration and a bad injury you ended up bed ridden for days on the verge of death. Having been worrying about an event like this happening for almost all your life, Norm and Max had quietly prepared an Avatar body for you years ago in hopes the Omatikaya would accept another consciousness transfer.  

Spider didn’t leave your side for weeks after that, he fussed over everything you did and insisted Neteyam or Kiri were around when traveling through the woods. You could tell that you now being Na’vi bothered him, you no longer had common ground, you were once alone together but you could tell he now just felt alone.  

Neteyam also became overly protective after that, he seemed to be able to read your mind and emotions. Jake and Neytiri kept a close eye on you, now being Na’vi Neytiri accepted you into their family.  

But now Spider was gone, he was taken by the humans and Jake wants to leave.   

You called for your Ikran, Tsyía, it was getting late but you needed to clear your head. You weaved between the trees, slowing down once you made it past the thick of forest, you sat up and breathed in the air.   

If Jake and Neytiri decided to leave this would be the last time you’d see the forest, explore the trees, race Neteyam and Lo’ak through Hallelujah mountains, take Tuk far above the tops of trees and to the stone pillars. Your entire life was this forest.  

The wind blowing your hair always calmed you down, the way the sun shone on the rocks was your favorite site. You kept your hold on the saddle, but you let yourself sit back and enjoy the air, your other arm coming up and back with the wind. You closed your eyes. This was peace.   

Your Ikran cried, alerting you that you were approaching the human camps, quickly you started ascending higher and higher before dropping. A trick you never did around Neteyam or Lo’ak knowing how their individual reactions would cause Jake and Neytiri to get word of it.  

Freefalling for a few seconds, further and further before you grabbed on tight to the satchel and Tsyía leveled out just above the trees. You flew around for a while, memorizing your home before heading back.  

You didn’t make much of a commotion when you came back but Tuk immediately an over and held onto your leg. 

“Y/n you’re coming with us, right?!” She begged, you were taken a back and looked up to Neteyam and Kiri who were walking up to you. 

“Mom and dad were discussing what they’d do if you wanted to stay behind” Neteyam explained, he looked nervous himself. 

You smiled and bent down closer to Tuk, “Of course I'm coming with you” you glanced back up to Kiri and Neteyam. After you were able to soothe Tuk you noted how late it was and insisted she go to bed, Kiri followed her after simply placing a hand on your shoulder and telling you she was glad. It wasn’t much but you knew it meant a lot coming from Kiri. 

You and Neteyam shared a look before you moved to sit next to the cave opening, Neteyam sitting next to you, your head falling on his shoulder. 

“What made you change your mind?” he asked after a moment of silence. You frowned. “My mind was never made up, I just made my decision”  

“I wonder what the ocean looks like” you thought out loud, fatigue growing. Neteyam chuckled “Was that your deciding factor?” 

You frowned again, bickering with him about your poorly timed statements. Neteyam seemed satisfied with this even if it didn’t answer his question, talking about what it would be like to live on the reefs. 

You don’t remember falling asleep, but you woke up cuddled with everyone else back in the tent. 

-  

By the time the reefs came into view you were exhausted, and so was Tsyía, you all came to a landing on the shore edge. It was unnerving with the crowd that surrounded you all, Tuk hid behind Neytiri’s leg, but you picked her up and cradled her in your arms when she looked back at you nervously.  

Kiri and Lo’ak both moved so you’d all be closer together when who you assumed to be the Olo'eyktan and Tsahìk parted through the crowd. Your father explained how he sought safe refuge for his family, but you watched as Lo’ak struggled to tear his eyes away from a girl who rose from the water.  

Your attention was drawn back to the situation when a couple of boys circled you and your siblings, grabbing at your brothers’ tail.  

“Is this supposed to be a tail?”  

“How will they swim?”  

You held Tuk closer and watched as Lo’ak barely held himself together. You looked over your shoulder and glared at one of the boys who was seemingly going to poke at you too, you held his gaze for a moment, he lost his smirk, and simply stared at you. He looked you up and down and you could feel the urge to curl in on yourself, whether that be from the intensity of his gaze or not knowing what he was thinking.  

Before he could say anything, the girl from before scolded the two boys before taking her place next to the Olo'eyktan. She must be his daughter.  The two boys backed down as your father continued speaking, the boy you stared at taking his place on the other side of the Olo'eyktan. Oh great.  

You tried to not be bothered when they pointed out the odd number of fingers you and your sibling possessed. You mostly focused on soothing Tuk until the Olo'eyktan, whom you learned was named Tonowari, announced that your family was welcome and his children, Ao’nung and Tsireya would teach you all how to adapt to the Metkayina way. The boy protested but shut up when his father shut him down, he locked eyes with you, an indescribable look on his face.  

Ao’nung huh?  

Tsireya showed you all the way to your Marui pod, Tuk practically jumped out of your arms to jump across the pathway. 

You observed your surroundings as you walked, people casting out fishing nets, children swimming under the walkways and jumping off the docks, the animals swimming around peacefully and interacting with the people there. Everything was so different than what you were used to, but an excitement you hadn’t expected spurred into your body. You had adapted to the Na’vi way once before, you could do it again.  

Tsireya officially introduced herself, and you didn’t miss how she kept her eyes trained on Lo’ak most of the time. 

“I am Neteyam, and this is my twin Y/n-” You internally rolled your eyes at how he insists on that. “This is our youngest sister Tuk” he continued. He gestured to Lo’ak and Kiri. Kiri introducing herself warmly and Lo’ak mumbling sheepishly.   

Tsireya smiled at Lo’ak then to everyone else, after you settled down in the hut, she guided you all towards the edge of the docks to start your first swimming lesson. She and Ao’nung dove into the water with Rotxo, Neteyam and Lo’ak following them. You and Kiri shared a look before Tuk jumped in, then finally you and Kiri.  

Being in the water was strange at first but you were able to familiarize yourself fairly quickly, Kiri had no trouble holding her breath while the others seemed to struggle more.   

Your siblings swam after Tsireya and her brother, Kiri, staying behind to admire the plants and animals, getting lost in it all.   

You followed the group but took more time getting close to the plants and watching the fish swim by. Soon you had to swim up for air, you breached the surface just as Neteyam and Lo’ak did, taking in breaths of air.  

“It's so beautiful here” You grinned. Neteyam and Lo’ak looked at each other then back to you, affirming their agreement.  

Ao’nung and Tsireya re-surfaced in front of you guys, you took a deep breath before going under again, making your way back to be mesmerized by the scenery, after a second ao’nung appeared infront of you, he started to sign something, but you couldn’t understand so you both swam up to speak.  

“What are you doing? Your brothers are learning to breathe right” he questioned as if saying ‘why aren’t you too?’ 

You simply glanced back down and shrugged, you looked him in the eye “the reef is beautiful” you smiled and dove back down before he could say anything else  

The feeling of being fully submerged in the water was what you loved, the fish that swam around you and the light reflecting off the coral.  

Before long, Neteyam insisted we all return to the pod, Jake and Neytiri sat on the floor and waited for everyone to settle down to start dinner.   

The pod wasn’t like the hammocks you grew up on, but the sloshing of water and arms cuddled around you comforted you to sleep.  

-  

You were adjusting well; your breathing was getting better, and you were picking up their underwater language quickly. Ao’nung and his friends teased your siblings a lot which upset you,but you often found him drifting near you, showing up in the same part of the reef you were exploring.  

He started telling you about the different plants and animals, guiding you to the best parts for that time of day but he always found soemthing to make fun of, pulling at your tail or how clumsy you were in the water. 

When it came time to tame the ilu and he called for them, you found yourself intrigued in the noises he made but once there was one infront of you that was all you wanted to focus on.  

You felt his eyes on you, your brothers were learning to mount their ilu, you just stroked the one in front of you, smiling as you took in the animal, their fins and their beauty.  

“-Y/n” Tsireya’s voice pulled you out of your trance, you looked up to see them looking at you, Neteyam and Lo’ak already on their ilu’s back. “Are you not going to get on?” she asked. 

You looked down, “I uh… I wasn’t paying attention, I’m sorry” your cheeks burned at the embarrassment. Tsireya giggled and asked Ao’nung to show you how to do it again. 

Ao’nung swam over to you begrudgingly, you mounted your ilu and he guided your hands to the correct positions. 

“Now body position is very important,” He started to explain. “If you don’t have it right you could go too slow or fall off.” You listened intently, but when he touched your leg or hand for the demonstration, you couldn’t help but avert your eyes. The way his voice lowered when asked if you were listening, almost demanding you to look at him, made you freeze. God he’s annoying  

 Your brother went first, flying off almost immediately, driving Ao’nung’s point home. You clenched your jaw as to not say anything when they made fun of your brothers when their attempts failed. 

You moved forward to try, Rotxo saying something along the lines of ‘this should be good’. 

You focused as your ilu dove under water, keeping a tight grip and correcting your positions accordingly. It was overwhelming moving so fast in the water, but after a second it started to feel familiar. Admittedly you didn’t have complete control, but no one criticized you when you came back, a smug look on your face and still on your ilu. Ao’nung smirking, raising his chin in a ‘told you so’ way 

- 

When you heard your sister yelling you wasted no time running over to the source of the commotion, you and Neteyam arriving at the same time. Ao’nung and his friends were picking at Lo’ak, but Neteyam broke it up, telling the boys to back off. You stood behind him closer to Kiri, Ao’nung’s glances towards you not going unnoticed.  

“From now on I need you to respect my sister.” Neteyam pointed to Kiri, not taking his eyes off Ao’nung, He nodded, putting his hands up amused, Neteyam turned around, gathering Lo’ak and you to all leave.  

“they're freaks... A whole family of them” Now that pissed you off, you were about to retort when Lo’ak beat you too it.  

You knew something was up when he started showing off his hand, then suddenly Lo’ak was punching Ao’nung left and right. “It’s called a punch bitch.”  

Ah there it is  

The boy immediately tackled Lo’ak, punching him and pulling at his tail, you watched Neteyam rub the back of his head before jumping into the fight.  

You and Kiri shared a look, you smirked and watched her grimace before you ran in, tackling Ao’nung off Neteyam. You two rolled in the sand, you landing on top and throwing a few punches in his face before pulling at his ears.  

“You fight like a girl!” he yelled, pushing you off him and grabbing your tail. You scrambled up and threw yourself backwards at him knocking you both to the ground again. Even though your hip was now throbbing, you turned yourself on top of him, straddling his back.  

“Good!” You grabbed him by his hair and pushed his face into the sand, “Now leave my fam-” you were cut off when he pushed up and you fell off him, your head slamming against the sand, you took the chance to kick him in the face as he stood up. He recoiled but grabbed hold of your ankle.  

“This is stupid” you heard Kiri yell.  

Ao’nung pulled you forward by the leg, instinctively you kicked his shin causing him to fall. He caught himself just before he slammed into you, his hand holding onto your ankle, moved to now holding the skin between your thigh and hip. Your breath hitched 

You didn’t realize your eyes were closed until you opened them and realized how close Ao’nung was, you stared at each other for a moment before Neteyam grabbed Ao’nung by the hair and pulled him off you, Roxto rushing into drag you by your tail. 

You don’t know who broke the fight up but before you knew it Jake had come to collect you all and dragged you back to the pod.  

“What did I tell you guys?!” Jake yelled.  

“It was my fault” Neteyam started but Jake cut him off. “No, it’s not, you need to stop taking the blame for your brother”  

“It was me” You interjected, now this Lo’ak jumped at.  

“No it wasn’t! They were picking on Kiri and called us freaks! I was defending my sister.” Lo’ak confessed, he never liked Neteyam taking the blame but after the incident, he was always quick to coddle or protect you.  

Jake sighed, “You can’t be starting fights, we can’t afford to cause more trouble here. Now go apologize” Lo’ak tried to object but Jake shut him down. Lo’ak stormed out, but just as you and Neteyam were about to leave Jake spoke up. “What did the other guys look like?”  

“Worse”  

Jake nodded “Good”  

A smile crept onto Neteyam’s face “A lot worse”  

“Get out of here” he then turned to you  

“Not worse but he didn’t get a punch in...” You muttered. He smiled and tussled your hair, nudging you out of the pod in the process.  

-  

Ao’nung didn’t know what to think, the forest freaks were nothing but a nuisance to him, but atleast he could tolerate you. Why? He couldn’t tell you. 

From the beginning he couldn’t quite keep his eyes off you, the way you swam and seemingly became one with the flora was mesmerizing. 

It was easy to ignore it, but you were around so much he thought he’d show you around the reef. Though a few times he purposely took you to places he knew would be difficult for you, just to get a laugh in, but you didn’t have to know that. 

But then the breathing lesson came, even though you were doing well, his sister insisted that he coach you. He couldn’t even focus on your breathing; you looked so Intune and at peace when you closed your eyes. He felt like his palms were on fire, the contact with your skin was all he could think about  

Even when your brothers failed miserably at taming the ilu you were still at the forefront of his mind. His skin felt on fire every time he touched you. The way you refused to look at him when he was teaching you felt disrespectful? 

He didn’t even try to hide how he was staring at your face, thankfully you couldn’t see. He found himself lagging behind, watching you from afar, you and Kiri bonding with nature in a way he didn’t think was possible for forest people.  

None of that stopped him from picking fights with your siblings though.  

He honestly didn’t expect you to get involved, it was when you tackled him that he lost his guard, you were a good fighter too. He didn’t think much about it until he was right in your face, his hand holding just above your thigh, he saw every detail of your face and he just wanted to memorize it in that moment.   

He didn’t like this but brushed it off quickly, you were new, and he was curious about you. Once he spent more time around you, he’d lose interest.  He was sure of it. 

-  

You sat on top of one of the giant roots the village hung from weaving thread. You and Neteyam’s birthday was coming up and though it would be a small celebration, you still wanted to give him a good gift, an important human tradition apparently.  

You sensed him before you saw him, but you made no effort to acknowledge him just yet. His presence should have put you on edge but oddly enough, it didn’t.  

“You’re a good fighter.” He finally said, Ao’nung sat behind you on a different root.  

“I thought I ‘fought like a girl’” You retorted, he chuckled  

“I thought that was a good thing” he stood up and jumped over to the root you were on and sat in front of you. After a moment, he leaned in real close to your face and spoke, “What are you making?” He seemed curious but there was still that pompous attitude in his voice.  

You thought for a moment, debating whether to answer his question. “It’s a Anurai for Neteyam” you made eye contact with him. “Our birthday is coming us soon and I suppose with all this change it would be nice”   

When he didn’t answer you glanced up and saw that he was watching you weave the necklace, a small smile creeped onto your lips before you realized he was probably watching your hands  

“They’re freaks. Not true Na’vi”  

You scrunched your hands and necklace together before abruptly standing up, without a word you hopped down the root and walked towards the village, your pace only growing faster when you heard him call out to you.  

As you approached your Marui pod you hid the necklace behind your back in case Neteyam or Tuk were inside, Tuk wasn’t good at keeping a secret.  

You peaked inside and only saw Neytiri, you smiled and sat down next to her, she glanced over and asked about the necklace.  

“It's for Neteyam. Our birthday is coming up.” You explained almost in a whisper, you loved Neytiri, she was your mother, but you still felt like you couldn’t breathe around her sometimes.   

She guided your hands closer to her so she could get a better look, she examined it thoroughly, you held your breath. “It is beautiful Y/n, you are a loving sister” she stated gazing at you fondly.  

You couldn’t help the smile that grew on your face, you scooted yourself closer to her as you continued to weave, wishing a little that she was watching. Her presence was demanding, but over time that grew to be a source of comfort for you, your need to please her only growing when she started to accept you into the family. 

After a while you could hear Tuk calling for you outside the pod, you relented and hid the necklack in your bag. Smiling to Neytiri before you left you made your way to the edge of the dock, Tuk sat Infront of Kiri on her ilu, she started telling you about all the caverns Tsireya showed her. You sat on the edge of the dock listening and splashing your feet in the water.  

Neteyam came up on his ilu, insisting you get in, Tuk quickly reiterating the sentiment. Before you can get in, Kiri looks around and asks where Lo’ak was  

“Probably apologizing to Ao’nung or following Tsireya around” Neteyam teased 

You smirked “Well I just saw Ao’nung so...” it had been obvious to everyone that Lo’ak was smitten with the Olo'eyktan’s daughter, you and your other siblings often poked fun at him for it, especially after she noted that his heart was beating fast while her hands were on his chest.  

“I was just with Tsireya though...” Kiri commented, Tuk testifying the same.  

You and Neteyam shared a look, he turned around and swam off with his ilu.  

-  

You comforted Tuk in the pod while she whined about wanting to go look for Lo’ak, you wanted to too, but you had to stay here, even when Kiri joined you in the pod you knew you'd be no help in the search. When Tuk got more restless you and Kiri took her into the water and tried to entertain her 

When you heard he was back, you jumped on your ilu and followed the direction the people on the walkway went. When you arrived, you saw Lo’ak and Ao’nung talking, you didn’t care about what they were saying, you just rode up and jumped onto the docks.  

“Lo’ak are you ok?” You placed a hand on his shoulder, looking him up and down before placing one on his face. most of the crowd had dispersed by now, leaving only you, Lo’ak, and Ao’nung.  

“I’m fine sis” you could tell he was holding back. You scrunched your eyebrows in worry. “I just had a little trouble out at sea...” he confessed  

“A little bit of trouble?!” You kept your voice down but the panic was still evident, you knew that what Lo’ak says is a ‘little trouble’ is not in fact little.  

He places his hand on your shoulder, “Really sis. I’m fine.” He pulls you in for a hug, you nod and pull back. Before you can leave for the pod, you hear Ao’nung say your name.  

His expression is hard to understand, a mix of guilt and embarrassment? You couldn’t place it.   

All you do is turn your head and quickly walk away. You ignore the calls of your name. 

Even that night when you all snuck off to a more secluded area to hear what happened to Lo’ak you ignored him, well you didn’t talk to him, you definitely glared more than necessary when Lo’ak talked about almost being killed by the Akula. You listened to Ao’nung as he spoke about the Tulkan but you never gave him more than a deadpan. 

Befriending a deadly and killer Tulkan. Definitely seemed like something your brother would do. 

“How long are you going to ignore him?” Lo’ak asked, clearly amused by the not-so-subtle distaste you showed for Ao’nung the while night. You rolled your eyes. 

“He was staring at you a lot” Neteyam tartly pointed out.  

“I was glaring at him a lot” you suggested 

- 

You ignored Ao’nung all morning, which for some reason made him follow you around even more. Instead of just being around, he was always right next to you or behind you. Once he realized you weren’t going to even listen to him, he just trailed behind.  

This continued to the next day and eventually he got the hint and stopped bothering you. 

“You know he apologized right?” Lo’ak asked while you were tending to your ilu. 

“Yes.” you answered. “Doesn’t mean I want to talk to him; he got that through his thick skull eventually” 

Kiri chucked, “It also helps that he and Neteyam caught on to his ogling and kept attempting to intimidate him” she mused, gesturing to Lo’ak. 

“It’s weird! I don’t like it, Y/n is my sister” he defended, Kiri rolled her eyes as she retorted. “And Tsireya is his, by now you should be pummeled in the sand” 

You ignore their bickering and swim to a more peaceful location on your ilu. You sat on your knees on the rock, your ilu’s head resting in your lap as you stroked her head and watched the scenery. 

You were too caught up in the way the lowering sun reflected on the water to sense someone coming up behind you, suddenly you were lifted into the air and dropped slightly as they wrapped their arms around your waist, keeping you off the ground. 

You screamed in surprise, ready to elbow the face of the person behind you. 

“Got ya!” Ao’nung stepped back tightening his hold on you. 

Relief washed over you before frustration took over. “Ao’nung let me go!” you yelled, adrenaline still rushing through you. 

“No way, this is the only way I can get you to listen to me” he exclaimed, you could hear the smirk in his voice. 

“Let me down.” you demanded. 

“Only when you promise to hear me out” You could feel the smugness radiating from him, huffing you relented. Satisfied, he let you down but held onto your forearm when you turned around. 

You glared at him to express your displeasure but he only smirked. “Listen, I’m sorry about what I did to your brother” his voice was genuine “But I realize it was wrong, I want to make it up to you.” 

You raised an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t Lo’ak be the one getting compensated” 

He thought, smiling “He gets a free punch on me anytime he wants” raising his eyebrows, asking if that was satisfactory. 

You rolled your eyes. He leaned in closer, “I want to make it up to you for making you so distressed, and for making you uncomfortable up on the roots the other day.” he elaborated. 

Oh, you didn’t think he’d assume he was the problem when you walked away. Sheepishly you nodded. 

“Ok” he smiled. “Meet me here an hour past sunset” and with that he walked backwards, keeping his eyes trained on you before mounting his ilu and swimming away. 

Biting your lip, you thought for a moment about whether this would be a good idea, you glanced around and got onto your ilu, swimming back to your pod. 

[sugolara]

𝙐𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧

feat. Katsuki Bakugo x fem! reader

Cw: angst, death, blood

˗ˏˋ+ ´ˎ˗ In which, Katsuki and Y/n used to be best friend only for their relationship to fail when one starts to feel romantic things and the other isn't sure what to do with it.

❝You're my best friend, I'll love you forever.❞

+ You Get Me So High by The Neighborhood

Standing underneath a cherry blossom tree like in a romance manga novel, Katsuki’s bright ruby eyes stare at (e/c) eyes. With a bento in his hands and rosy cheeks, he confesses his love to his middle school friend, “I love you.”

He could see the girl in front of him tensed up as her shoulders raised and her eyebrows twitched. Katsuki could feel his heart thump as the girl, Y/n, continued to stare at him not peeping a word. 

He didn’t know if it was normal for a heart to beat so rapidly as the corners of his lips twitched when Y/n smiled at him. Besides the wind rustling, an airy breath of chuckle rang in Katsuki ears. His heart dropped when he heard Y/n’s words, “Thank you. But, I’d rather stay friends.”

His eyes drooped as he watched Y/n walk away. His hands gripped the bento, eventually the contents in it fell on the bright green grass. With a broken heart, Katsuki walked to his dorm, wishing to forget this embarrassing moment. 

Katsuki’s confession happened when they were both in their 1st years. After that, they’ve never spoken a word together. His heart panged throughout the year when his friends would ask what happened between the two. 

Though around their second year, his friends eventually stopped when Eijiro would tell them to not get into his business. 

It did hurt though when Katsuki’s friends mentioned Y/n. It hurts so much when Denki told him they were the best duos, their quirks matched each other and if they were to be together, they would be inseparable. A part of Katsuki hoped that Y/n heard Denki’s words.

Denki’s words brought Katsuki back to when he and Y/n were in middle school. Both smile when they talk about their future. How they’d open an agency together with Katsuki being Y/n’s sidekick. Katsuki smiled but then grunted as he punched Y/n’s arm. 

In his bed, Katsuki smiled at the memory though it was immediately replaced with a line. No matter how much Katsuki wanted to confront Y/n and repair their friendship, Katsuki knew it wouldn’t work. In Katsuki’s mind, their friendship was over because he had to confess his love. 

Some days, he wished he was a time traveler. If he knew beforehand that his confession would tear their friendship, he’d never usher a word. 

But the thought of staying quiet killed him, he wanted to know if she felt the same way. If Katsuki had to think, he would say his love for her grew when he saw her handle people from harassing her. How her face would turn stone cold and she threatened them in a low voice. 

In Katsuki’s words, Y/n wasn’t like those girls who wanted protection. Y/n protected herself and she’d protect others even if it meant dying. It was what led her to her downfall. 

And now, in their graduation gowns, class 3-A took a group photo as this would be the end of their high school years. With Aizawa next to his students, the class smiled and cheered, throwing their caps. 

The class then wished everyone a good life as they went their separate ways. But Katsuki’s red eyes searched her (e/c) eyes. His heart once again thumps as they meet for a brief moment before Katsuki is pulled away by his parents. 

Katsuki wouldn’t know, but that would be the last time they ever see each other. 

After 5 years of doing hero work, Katsuki was proud of Y/n reaching the top 5 hero rank. He would never say it, but Katsuki would watch and grin as he saw Y/n take down villains whenever it aired on tv. 

He was proud of her, and he hoped she was proud of him as he was the number one hero. His only wish now was to see Y/n. 

But his wish was cut short when he stood in front of a billboard, his hands gripping his umbrella so tight that his fist turned white and the look of panic over his face. He watched as the love of his life was hanging on by a thread.

News reporters were up in her face as she seemed to be out cold and blood dripping onto the white sheets as she was carried into an ambulance. Flashes of photos were shown on the billboard.

 A news reporter narrated as the paramedic didn’t have time to take the hero to the hospital and even if they did, she wouldn’t make it in time. They had to perform their own surgery in front of thousands to see.

With his hoodie over his eyes, people nearby wouldn’t know that the number one hero was tearing up. Katsuki's ears listened as people around gasped and prayed for her safety. 

Then it was declared; the number 4 hero, Y/n, died of blood loss.

Months after months, her fans, friends and family mourned her death. They dropped flowers and gifts at her burial site wishing her lovely words. Even some heroes and those who were not well known came by to drop gifts. Some did it for publicity stunt while others, like her classmates, did it to honor her.

But one in particular wished to never see her burial site. Katsuki scoffed as he read a blog about Y/n and its title; The Heroic Hero Who Killed The Villain Along With Herself. 

As much as Katsuki hated it, he finally got over her death, but not Y/n. It only took 3 years.

With his mind cleared of negative thoughts, he finally got to see her burial site and wished her luck in eternal life. Knowing that someday, they would eventually meet again and this time, Katsuki would rekindle their friendship and not let her leave his grasp.

[soogaenthusiast]

i just love link so much. no matter the game. the courage he always presents, no matter how young or old he is

how he’s knocked out in the ordon spring and wakes up to ilia and colin both gone, and he immediately sprints, unarmed, into faron. he’s then met with the wall of twiligt, turns into a wolf, is imprisoned, and is thrown into everything he never imagined, and yet he takes it all in stride and never stops looking for the kids and saving hyrule. the little town farmer. goat herder. faux big brother. all of that turned a boy who fought a resurrected skeleton, mastered a city in the sky, defeated the king of another dimension, and sealed away the demon king with a sword through the abdomen

the little kid from kokiri. the boy without a fairy. showing up to mido and learning of his path via the deku tree. taking on the parasite of a big fish and beating a huge dodongo in the depths of a volcano. going on to jump in time seven years, realizing ganondorf wreaked havoc on the world because of it, and working to reseal him.

the school age kid in the sky. who flew birds as a living and was in love with his friend. who saw her get swept away right in front of him and took no hesitation to get to the ground and search for her. who went through the silent realm time after time. who passed through time and fought a creature like ghirahim and eventually demise to save zelda and skyloft / hyrule

the big brother and grandson who lived peacefully on an island with his baby sister and grandmother. who just… hung out. Whose sister was kidnapped and he didn’t waste a second to get on the pirate’s ship to find out where she was taken. his whole determination came from needing to save her. and even when she was, he kept on. killing the helmaroc king and going on to try and kill ganondorf, only to be brought down into hyrule and learn of tetra’s identity, and his own. who, at his young age, put the master sword through ganondorf’s head and turned him to stone

the boy who grew up as seemingly more outspoken, especially around mipha. but he became zelda’s knight, whose goal was to protect her with his life. the thing he took most seriously. the kid who stood up between zelda and multiple guardians, even as he was on the brink of death. the boy who was willing, after getting his arm covered in malice, to dive into nothingness to grab zelda’s hand in an attempt to save her life, not knowing what could greet them at the bottom. who does succeed at grabbing her hand and saving her by the end. who carried her out of the water and continued being what he did best: be her knight

he is just. no matter the game. a little, innocent kid, sometimes not even knowing the part he really plays in the world. and for something to happen; his sister, the love of his life, fellow kids who were his family, he rushes into the face of danger to save them.

theres a reason he has the triforce of courage

[acourtofmenandthirst]

The Fox & The Hound

Eris x Reader, based off a request! I combined this with an idea @azsazz came up with a long time ago, so this was the perfect combination! Featuring baby Lucien, he's only about 1-2 years old (I have no idea how old kids are when they're walking/talking, etc. so just go with it lol)

Warnings: Beron being an asshole, rabbit stew

Word Count: 2.6K

Eris crossed over the stony bridge, officially leaving the grounds of the estate for the dense forest before him. Lucien watched as the Forest House grew smaller and smaller, the farther Eris carried him into the woods. Eris patted his back, cradling the babe close to his chest. With his chubby cheek pressed to Eris’s shoulder, he garbled a few words of nonsense, grabbing at the brown piping on his eldest brother’s jacket. 

Carefully stepping over the piles of leaves and loose rocks, Eris’s hand rubbed over Lucien’s back, keeping him calm as they escaped the loud household. Eris was quick to pick up on the telltale signs of his father’s anger, the yelling between his parents ensuring things would turn ugly fast. He took Lucien from his room, where he was surely able to hear the shouting echoing off the stone walls, and made haste for the foggy woods. 

Eris had spent the past many decades of his life taking his brothers out of the house in moments such as these, shielding them from the abuse he wished someone would have protected him from. Many years were spent in the river beside him, teaching each of his brothers how to fish, showing them how to hunt, set traps, and wield their fire. Lucien, the youngest of the unruly boys, seemed to invoke a special kind of anger in their father, something Eris wasn’t sure Beron even knew the root cause of - it was what Eris prayed to the Mother above about each night: that his father didn’t truly know. 

He propped his brother at his side, hooking his arm around the babe tightly, turning him forwards to see the expanse of the forest in front of them. Lucien blabbered on, something about the colors on the trees, red and lellow - Eris didn’t try to hide his smile. But he continued on, pointing things out to Lucien as he expertly followed the trail between the trees. It was a path Eris carved himself: dry grass trampled beneath his horses hoofs, flattened under Eris’s own boots; he walked that path a million times to your little cabin on the outskirts of town. 

Without any warning at all, the older male swooped toward the ground and plucked a blooming flower from the earth. Lucien exploded with laughter, tiny fists grabbing at Eris’s coat, legs kicking at his sides. The babe’s bright eyes shut as his cheeks reddened, nothing but pure joy at his brother’s antics. Eris tickled Lucien under his arms, in which he knew he barely actually touched him through his many layers and thick corduroy jacket; but he squealed nonetheless, perhaps just happy to be spending time with his older brother.

“This,” Eris began, once Lucien had calmed. “Is a Celosia.” Lucien’s eyes widened, mouth dropped open in awe. Eris twirled the spiky red flower between his fingers, showing his brother the new object. He caught the drool forming on Lucien’s plump bottom lip before it fell to his coat, wiping his knuckle against the babe’s lip before tickling his nose with the tip of the flower. He handed it to Lucien, whose smile widened as he grabbed the plant with both hands. “Gross,” the older male muttered, wiping the baby drool off on the side of his pants. 

As he approached the small clearing near the river, Eris caught sight of a hole buried deep under a tree root. He inspected the area, catching sight of a pair of glowing eyes. Lucien’s attention shifted to the approaching fox, crawling cautiously out of the dark cavern. Eris stood still at the edge of the nest, watching as one approached, followed by another, and another. They walked around Eris’s feet, swirling between his legs like how the mist curled around the mountains. 

Lucien hurled himself forward, arms outstretched towards the fuzzy foxes. Eris caught the babe quickly, leaning over to set Lucien on his wobbly feet. He managed to hold himself upright, but only until one of the foxes lunged toward him, standing on its hind legs to sniff his curly red hair. Lucien fell on his bum, nothing but laughter and smiles as his hands came up to pet the animal. 

Eris smiled, settling down on a large rock beside the den. He ran a hand through his own hair, loose against his forehead, and glanced up at the sun. It was nearing sunset, leaving the sky streaked with orange and red, kissing the tops of the darkening trees. He turned his attention to the ground when something pulled on the hem of his pants - expecting Lucien, he turned his head with a small smirk, prepared to meet his excited brother. With a quirk of his brow, his lips pressed into a firm line, watching as the dark brown paws clawed gently at his leg. 

The fox peered up at him with a tilted head, spiked ears propped up in curiosity. Eris mirrored the animal, turning his own head as he tried to shoo away the small kit. Those trousers cost more than he cared to admit. With a shake of his leg, the fox ran around his other ankle, waiting for Eris to settle back before crawling over his boots again. 

Lucien giggled in front of him, waving his hands around as the other foxes jumped around him. The older male huffed, pushing himself to his feet, grabbing Lucien and hoisting him away from the rowdy animals. “We gotta get going,” Eris said to him, straightening out his little jacket. “It’s getting late.” 

Lucien’s eyes widened, staring up at his brother in disbelief. As Eris took a step forward, away from the skulk, Lucien started screaming, yelling out in irritation. Eris shushed the babe, patting his back as he continued on down the path, but Lucien was not to be calmed. He twisted and turned in Eris’s arms, reaching out for the one fox following them. 

Eris pressed forward, taking longer steps, hoping to lose the kit - but to no avail. The farther the fox followed, though, the softer Lucien’s screams were, and no longer was he squirming in Eris’s grip. “Come, come,” Lucien called, reaching over Eris’s shoulder out toward the animal. 

The tall male stopped in his tracks, holding his leg out to try to stop the fox. It simply walked around him, plopping down on the soft earth, waiting for Eris to continue. Lucien twisted, calling to the kit, who was seemingly only waiting for Eris’s next move. 

“My dogs will eat that thing,” Eris muttered, trying to wrangle Lucien in his arms. 

But with no sign of stopping - Lucien or the fox - Eris huffed. “Fine,” he sighed, mostly to himself. “Let’s all go then.” He began trudging down the path again, letting Lucien fawn over the animal that trailed closely behind. 

The minute they approached your cabin, though, Lucien smiled, turning his attention to the tiny front door. You’d stuck more flowers into the pots beside the landing, Eris noticed the dianthus, pointing it out to Lucien, too, who seemed fond of the purple petals. With nothing more than two knocks, Eris let himself in, ducking his head to step inside.

You met the males in the living room, as you wiped the flour from your hands, greeting the both of them with a smile. While Eris dropping by in the evening came as no shock to you, the extra visitors were a pleasant surprise. Lucien made grabby hands for you, leaning far away from his brother. You plucked him from Eris’s grip, happy to see the babe, despite the pull at your heart as you cradled him to your chest in a hug. Eris frequently visited you, but you knew he only brought Lucien when things turned sour at home. 

Lucien wrapped his arm around your neck, grabbing a fistfull of your hair as he planted a slobbery kiss to your cheek. “Hello, Lu Lu,” you crooned, cradling his head in your hand. You twirled his red curls, much like his older brother’s, and propped him up on your hip.

Eris rolled his eyes, in jealousy no doubt, placing his first finger under your jaw and turning your chin away from Lucien, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. The babe in your arms was already distracted by something beside him; you followed his line of sight to the open doorway. “Brought a new friend?” You asked, eyeing the small fox sitting in the open doorway. 

As Eris moved to shut the door, the kit jumped through, landing on the hard oak floor. You cocked a brow at the male, who shrugged in response and loosed a sigh. Don’t ask. 

You made your way to the kitchen with Lucien held sturdy on your hip, leaving Eris and his pet in the living room. Lucien giggled, sticking his hands in the pile of flour on the counter. He slapped his hands together, shrieking as it made a cloud in the air. You placed the small ball of dough in the cast iron baking dish, helping Lucien to sprinkle some of the powder atop the bread. “Good job,” you hummed, trying to wipe off his hands with the apron hanging off your waist. 

Lucien mumbled some incoherent words, to which you adamantly agreed, nodding along with his ramblings. You made sure the babe was held on your opposite side as you moved to the oven, placing the dish in with your other hand. You kept him as far away from the oven as you could, but he reached out for it. You weren’t sure if it was the innate fire simmering in his veins that made him grab for it, or if it reminded him of Eris, the male who ran hotter than that oven at most times. You liked to think it was the latter.

Eris was simply drained after caring for the babe all afternoon. He sat slouched in your small dining room chair, legs spread out into the walkway, shoulders shrugged and arms sprawled out on either of the arms. The fox was curled up, laying over the bridge of his boot, tail curled up into its chest. You slowly made your way to the table he sat beside, bringing him the mug of tea you’d been sipping on. 

You plopped Lucien on the rug, the babe stumbling over to where Eris and the fox were so well relaxed. The fox yipped when Lucien made to pet its fur, shiny crimson coat so captivating in the faelight. “You don’t want any babes of your own, my beloved?” You stood across from him, eyeing his exhausted state of being. 

He heaved an exasperated sigh. “Our children would be much better behaved.” He stared into space, eyes unfocused, but in Lucien’s direction, where he was crawling around on the floor, behind the fox, mimicking his sneaky walk. 

You tut at him, running your hand over the side of his head and through his hair, mucking up his wild hair. You dropped down in his lap, smiling to yourself as his arms wound around your waist and he nuzzled his chin in the crook of your neck. Your hands fell to his, tracing the warm skin over his knuckles. He hummed against you, relishing in your sweet smell - the flowery scent of your hair and aroma of freshly fallen rain that laced your skin. 

“Leaf?” Lucien questioned, drawing both of you out of your daze. His small hand ran over the fox’s tail as his golden eyes washed over the red fur.

“That’s a fox, Lucien.” Eris was so tired.

“Leaf,” he said again, more desperate, pointing at the fox.

“He’s naming him, Eris,” you whispered, dropping your head back against his, your temple resting against the top of his head. 

“Fuck no, we’re not naming him Leaf.”

“Fuck,” Lucien repeated, stumbling over the word. You smacked the back of Eris’s hand, but the male only laughed, burying his face into your neck. 

The two brothers stayed for supper, feasting on the tender rabbit stew you prepared. You and Eris took turns ripping up small pieces of bread and meat for Lucien, who sat happily propped up on Eris’s lap. You gazed longingly at the male beside you, elbow propped up on the table and head held in your palm. He shed his jacket long ago, donning just his white buttoned shirt with the collar half undone, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. 

Lucien’s sweater had hand embroidered leaves on it, large orange maple leaves - the telltale sign of Autumn. You’d fretted immensely as he grabbed a fistfull of carrots from the stew and failed to actually get it in his mouth, dropping it perfectly onto that cream colored wool. The chunks of meat that had fallen from the table were happily lapped up by the small fox, who sat perched on its hind legs. 

When you’d moved to the sofa after dinner, Lucien was quick to fall asleep. Laid perfectly on the warm expanse of Eris’s chest, the babe’s arms and legs were sprawled over his older brother. You ran your fingers over Lucien’s back, lulling him into a deep slumber. His lips were parted ever so slightly as you listened to his steady breathing, the only other sound accompanying the small fire in the hearth across the room. 

Eris watched your fingers trace patterns over his brother’s back, in the same manner you did on him when he fell asleep in your arms himself. It surely did the trick on him, why wouldn’t it work on his brother? He couldn’t help that envious feeling, the anxiety he felt with sharing the one good thing he’d found for himself. Maybe it was that possessive part of him that made him want to keep you tucked away on the outskirts of the small town, away from his real life, his home, his family. That in some irrational corner of his mind, he’d lose you should he get too close, should he share too much of his life with you. He felt guilty enough bringing Lucien there, to your home, in escape from his father.

He was basically falling asleep himself, though, with you tucked up close to him, the warmth of your touch heavy at his side. His forehead rested against yours, your arm pressed into the couch yet still curled around his bicep. His hand fell to your knee, thumb brushing over your leg through your thin dress. He was content to lay there, for all of you to fall asleep on your soft sofa. But his mother would be expecting him to return Lucien soon, the routine of him taking his brother from the house becoming much too normal. 

“I’ll have to get this little one to bed,” Eris whispered, voice barely audible. 

You smiled, twirling one of Lucien’s curls between your fingers. You loved seeing Eris care for his brother, the soft side of him you barely bore witness to. With a slow turn, you cupped his cheek in your palm and pulled him closer, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He was quick to blush, scarred face tinged with pink. But he brushed it off, moving to stand before you, keeping Lucien held tightly to his chest. “I’ll be back later tonight,” he promised, pressing a kiss to your lips. 

As Eris moved, the fox - once tucked into a ball, sleeping beside him - shot to attention, staring at him from the couch. With a roll of his eyes, he sighed, holding out his hand for the fox to hop into his palm. It crawled its way up his forearm, latching onto the light fabric. “Come on, Leaf, let's go home.”

[latoyalestrange]

ghost of our love

s. sallow x gn!reader

(inspired by real events in my second HL playthrough made possible by the companion mod lmao)

summary: a map with messy sketches of landmarks was all you had to go on. that normally wouldn’t prove so challenging if you hadn’t been at hogwarts for all of a week and hadn’t gotten a chance to leave the castle yet. the remedy? a somewhat overconfident fellow fifth-year, who’s face hadn’t slipped your mind since the moment you saw it.

warnings: fluff, fluff, and more fluff <;3 not edited!

words: 1.8k

you needed to use lumos, that much was clear. a bridge, some floating candles, a disheveled archway, some trees, and…hogsmeade? you took your eyes away from the dusty parchment for a moment to scan the boundless grounds that surrounded the northern exit of hogwarts. You stood just outside the courtyard with the gentle wind flowing through your hair behind you. Your scarf followed suit, protecting you from the dusk chill that nipped at your now blushing cheeks and nose.

you saw a few different bridges leading to what looked like an endless sea of forest and no floating candles. having already circled the castle looking for good amount of time, you realized treasure hunting was a lot harder than you had anticipated. you eyed the map again, searching for the missing piece of the puzzle.

being at hogwarts so far had taught you many things. one of those being honing your ability to focus. casting ancient magic required great amounts of focus and discipline, as did any spell. sometimes your ability to drown out distraction came to your benefit, and other times— well, other times it just made it easy to sneak up on you. and, of course, sebastian sallow loved it.

“searching for buried treasure, are we?” the familiar feeling of your soul jumping out of your body momentarily rushed over you, an instinctively deep breath entering your lungs.

“for the love of merlin, sallow! don’t you know it’s rude to sneak up on people?” you pouted, clutching the parchment to your chest. your chest heaved as your heart settled and he just chuckled looking at you. you hoped the heat rising in your face would be excused as wind chill.

you couldn’t help yourself around him. around everyone else you were cunning, witty, and charming, but in front of him, you were a awkward school-girl, tripping over your words at every turn and blushing at his every remark. the flirtatious slytherin boy picked up on it immediately and it pulled him to you “like a moth to a flame” as he described it to his closest friend, ominis.

“yes, actually. i just like to knock you down a peg. the ‘chosen one’ ordeal is going straight to your head,” he replied sarcastically, gesturing to your head with a poke of his finger. you swatted his hand away, unamused.

“i’m not the chosen one,” you mocked him, returning to your map.

“that’s what it sounded like to me!” he retorted, but you didn’t bother responding as your eyes locked on the sketches again.

“hey, is that the entrance to the forbidden forest there?” he invited himself to investigate the clues, pointing to the rocky archway in the center. he leaned in to get a better look, closing the gap between the two of you. at that very moment, you were pretty sure you forgot how to focus because you couldn’t even try if your life depended on it. the wind carried his scent over to you as he started to fill your senses.

“yes, there’s the bridge, the entrance, then the trees and hogsmeade to the northeast…that’s just over there.” your gaze followed his hand, indicating to the furthest stone bridge from you and if you squinted, you could see the forgotten archway. he casually grabbed your hand, starting to lead you in the correct direction.

“i don’t remember agreeing to this!” you called to him as he walked swiftly in front of you, trudging through the wild grass to cross in a more direct path.

“you didn’t!” he called back, turning to meet your eye with a mischievous smirk falling to his lips. you stifled a girlish chuckle and jogged lightly to catch up to his long strides. after finding your way back to a path, the bridge was just a few paces in front of you. you eyed the forest’s edge, wondering what might be hiding behind the thick brush. you stop just before the bridge and sebastian notices your distant stare.

“don’t tell me you’re afraid of the forbidden forrest. nothing you can find in there is worse than what i’ve already seen you best.” he assures you.

“i’m not afraid! just thought i heard something…” you trail off, leaving the two of you in silence for a moment. you listened to the wind howl around you, taking in the path you could now clearly see you were meant to take. you took a deep breath and held up your wand.

“lumos.” now you wear leading the way across the stone bridge, scanning the space around you for any reaction. then, as if they appeared out of thin air, a few flickering candles began to float into your view, taking you across the bridge and under the ancient-looking archway that held several warnings against your very actions.

“ah, following floating candles into the forbidden forest. this should be interesting.” you welcomed sebastians familiar sarcasm. at the present, even though you previously denied it, you were trembling in your little boots. the countless duels didn’t scare you because you were at the advantage. no one expected a 16 year old to wield such powerful magic, so you were always underestimated. it was aggravating, but it gave you the upper hand when they were too shocked to cast back.

in the forest, however, you were left vulnerable with so many possible blind spots and vantage points that enemies could hold against you. it made you nervous, to say the least.

"we're looking for a large, dead tree..." the both of you continued to hold your wands up as you followed the candles deeper into the forest. owls cooed and dugbogs crooked in the distance, saving you from the awkward silence. If only the peaceful ambiance and captivating nature around you could calm your nerves too.

"ah, here we are...just a bit further i presume." his casual and confident tone ignited a warmth in your stomach that was fairly new to you. you couldn't quite put your finger on it, but being in his presence, especially hearing his voice, made your entire body buzz. you weren't sure what to call it, but you knew you wouldn't be able to keep your feelings hidden much longer if it kept recurring. you wouldn't be able to bare it.

"jackdaw didn't exactly tell me what i was looking for. we could be walking into anything," you admitted, biting your lip as you realized how far you had traveled.

"jackdaw? i doubt he would give a map of certain death to a student.

"you should've seen where i had to go to find the blasted map,' you retorted, causing the boy to snort with laughter. without thinking, you giggled along with him, your eyes meeting for a brief moment. you looked away instinctively, but the furious blush on your cheeks still remained.

"look! just up ahead!" he swiftly passed you, following the candles around a sparse, rocky path with a large brush on either side. you found yourselves on a landing looking over a charming river, an overgrown wooden bridge going across it. the bundle of candles that led you here joined a larger swarm that lit up the romantic scenery in front of you. an iron set of two chairs and a matching table with more candles and a bundle of wildflowers as a centerpiece. the flames flickered like shining stars that surrounded you, illuminating the various flowers and shrubs planted around the table.

your heart instantly started pumping faster in your chest as you searched his expression for a reaction.

"you could've just asked me on a date, you know," he teased, looking around at the scenery.

"i didn't--"

"i'm only teasing, calm down now," he held a defensive hand up and interrupted you before you could respond. "treasure!"

you followed his sight to see a shiny bronze chest with a lock clasped around the opening. he immediately tried it, just in case, but no luck.

"just our luck..." he scanned the area for a clue and you followed suit. while investigating the table, you noticed a tiny glowing swirl in each seat. you looked back to the lock to see a matching light coming from it as well.

"sebastian...i see something." he rushed to your side.

"what is it?"

"the seats, they're glowing..."

"okay, are you sure this wasn't a secret plot to get me to go with you? you really didn't have to do this--"

"enough, sebastian." you rolled your eyes, and he broke.

"alright, i apologize, that was the last time. i promise." he couldn't help from chuckling at your furrowed brow and twisted mouth. you hated when he said it, but he found you incredibly adorable when you were angry. you sighed and he silenced himself, clearing his throat.

"okay, i think it's pretty clear what we're meant to do." it was his turn to show a flustered demeanor as he straightened his robes, looking at you from the opposite end of the table.

"right..." you fidgeted where you stood before he finally gained the courage to round the table, placing both hands on the back of your chair. his hazel eyes met yours, almost asking for permission. you nodded and he pulled your chair back for you, watching as you took your spot in it. the grass floor prevented him from pushing your chair forward, so he lifted it to set you down further beneath the table. he returned to his original stance, facing you as he fixed his suit once more before sitting down as well.

the candle's glow grew significantly, lighting up the area as if a street lamp was just above. you heard a prominent click-click come from the chest as the lock fell to the ground. you almost turned to look at the chest, but your eyes were locked in with sebastian's, unable to falter. he looked breathless, almost. completely and utterly taken aback.

"sebastian? are you alright?" he blinked as if your voice brought him out of a trance.

"yeah, just...you look stunning right now." he admitted honestly.

"oh! thank you." the redness in your face returned just as quickly as it faded. silence fell on both of you again. he seemed deep in thought as his gaze fell to the table.

"sebastian? the treasure?" his head popped back up, and reality set back in for him.

"right. you're splitting that with me, by the way." he was back to his cocky self as he stood to investigate the chest. you followed suit, rushing to catch up to him.

"you wish, sallow."

"is that so? you wouldn't have been able to open the chest without me here, would you?" he taunted you as you joined him next to the bronze treasure.

"fine, but you're getting us butterbeer after this." he opened the chest, revealing what looked to be around 250 galleons.

"I don't think that will be a problem."

[witchthewriter]

𝐄𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐭 𝐂𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑐𝑟𝑦𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑙 𝑏𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛🔮

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!  

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ      

SFW🌿

・Emmett would find witchcraft so fascinating. His eyes would light up, and he would sit there dumbfounded

・This is a world where vampires and shape-shifters exist. So of course there’s going to be powerful witches

・Unlike Edward, who would be a bit wary of a s/o who can do magic, Emmett is absolutely on board - 100%

  “Babe, turn the lights off.”

*You turn the lights off without getting up from your seat*

   “Haha woah. Okay now turn them off!”

*They turn off*

     “Babe you’re so powerful!”

“No Emmett, you just need to pay the electricity bill.” 

・Has gone to the witchy store to get more herbs but he wrote them down on his hand and the ink didn’t dry. So he tried to make out what the word is while the shop assistant stood there dumbfounded

・Tells people his partner is better than theirs all the time - and that has nothing to do with you being a witch

・He likes to walk around with the incense stick. You told him that counter clock-wise rids bad energy and clock wise invites positive energy. So he vampire runs around the house waving the stick like a maniac 

・ “Oops set off the fire alarm again.”

・Has and will continue to interrupt you while you’re casting a spell

     “Babe I broke the door aga- oh sorry you’re hexing someone.” 

・There isn’t really a ‘mature’ person in the relationship. You would be the closest to it, but there are instances where Emmett has to remind you to be responsible 

  “I know he’s a douche but just because he insulted me doesn’t mean you have to curse his whole family tree.” 

・Calls you babe all the time (don’t know if you caught on to that yet or ...)

・Gets used to your customs, so when you forget to put your crystals out to charge he does that for you 

・Alice loves coming over and seeing everything. She has tried to redecorate, but who could do better than whimsicore? 

・Emmett knows you’re his mate because when you were in a dangerous situation, he thought he would die. Whatever happened to you, he would risk his life to save yours 

・And he went to Edward because he was so confused by these emotions, and Edward had to explain to him the whole mate thing 

・Rosalie is still in the Cullen/Hale family, but she has a different mate 

・You’re welcomed with open arms, and feel very close to Alice and Esme 

・Jasper makes you uneasy though. Probably because of his past - being a confederate soldier and all 

・Emmett wears protection stones and amulets. Even though he’s one of the most dangerous creatures on earth, you like to give him extra protection/safety

・People do come to you with their problems, but some you have to turn away. Others you do everything to help. 

・Your powers are unique. Every witch is different, much like vampires. Not everyone who follows witchcraft will have extra abilities. 

・All those who become witches have heightened intuition and senses. 

・But you were granted the gift of telekinesis (moving things with your mind).

・However when you use this, your aura can be seen (although not by humans.) 

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈:

Romantic Flight by John Powell

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔:

Chaotic Dumbass Duo

Tragic Past x Ray of Light (goes both ways)

Big Dumb x Small Smart

[minimomoe]

Damned to Love You

Pairing: Sukuna x Black Reader

Rating: 19+

Word ct.: 4.4k

Summary: You gave up yourself to the god of war to save your village. He hasn't done anything wrong, but you still gripe about the whole situation. What happens when you push him a little too hard?

You tended your garden peacefully in the early morning sun. You cared for these plants as if they were your children, from your bat flowers to cupcake blushes to your eucalyptus tree that was in full bloom, its flowers looking like bright red fireworks hanging in the air. You were proud of your selection, looking far and wide for these particular plants and others that were not native in your lands. You pulled a few weeds out then strolled over to your pond, watching the koi fish swim in lazy circles before feeling a heavy presence behind you. You rolled your eyes, pretending not to notice as you bent down to give the fish some food, crooning slightly when you had a whole group in front of you. 

It wasn’t until you saw Sukuna’s reflection in the pond and you accidentally made eye contact with him that you internally groaned. You lifted your robes up, walking over the stones inside the pond to put more space between you and the brute. When you got to the other side you strolled over to your favorite plant of all, the aged pomegranate tree. It was there well before you, and without a doubt well after you, but you found solace in knowing that something will never change. 

You pulled out a dagger from inside your sleeves and plucked the fruit from the tree, one that was heavy and looked like it was about to drop itself and sliced it carefully, cutting out the membrane to delicately pick out the seeds, popping them in your mouth and moaning softly at the taste. Just as you were to get to the other half it was pulled out from your hand, and you stared blankly into the space before whipping around to face the open chest of your husband .

“What do you not understand about space ?” You growled. 

“Careful, human, I gifted you all of this but I’m not afraid to take it all back,” Sukuna said, dropping the whole pomegranate half in his mouth. He was wearing his robes carelessly. The only thing it was covering was his legs as it hung from his waist, but the sleeves loosely hung around his shoulders, exposing his chest and stomach and all the black markings made on them.

“I think it is only fair since you also ripped me away from my family,” you turned back around and hunted for a new fruit. 

“Ripped you away? You offered yourself up to me. Begged me to take you, prayed to me, even,” he purred. You looked at him through the corner of your eye and saw that he was smirking at you. His lower arms were crossed as his top hands wiped away the juice tracking down his face. His eyes never left yours as he sucked the sweetness off of his fingers. You clutched the bow string across your chest tightly. 

“It was the only thing I could do. They were killing my people.” “They” being the overbearing village that was determined to become a kingdom, killing anyone who didn’t abide by their new laws. You thought that your village was small enough that they would overlook it, but you were wrong. After hearing what they had done to sister towns you made a temple to Sukuna, asking for strength, begging for forgiveness, bargaining yourself , doing anything that you thought would help. You didn’t think the god was actually listening to you, no would he take you up on your offer.

“And I aided your cause, didn’t I?” Even his stomach was smiling at you and you had to repress your gags. 

“I didn’t tell you to kill them all!”

“What else would I have done?”

What else would I have done ? That question echoed around in your head and without thinking you drew your bow on the god. It was a thoughtless comment from someone who doesn’t value life. All four of his eyes trained on your carefully, a small smirk pulled at his lips. 

“You could’ve just protected my people,” you seethed. “Trained them, gave them your knowledge, anything else, really. Now I have unnecessary blood on my hands.”

“If you wanted them to learn how to fight you could’ve taught them yourself or ask that other god, Tobi? No, Toji,” he corrected. He eyed your stance and scoffed. “You may be the best soldier your village has to offer, but do you really think you can take down the likes of me?” All of Sukuna’s arms were down and braced for fighting. You watched as his black nails slowly grew sharper out of his hand and his stomach tongue lolled out of its mouth as it did something that resembled a leer. His knees were bent slightly and he was slowly reaching his full size, and now you were staring at the gleaming fangs of an eight foot tall monster. 

“It would be an honorable way to die, trying to kill you.”

“I wouldn’t let you die. I would bring you to the brink of death, but then pull you back, over and over again, till you’re half as good as me. I wouldn’t take just anybody as a bride.”

“So I should be flattered?”

“Yes.” You shot an arrow right by his ear, the steel tip whistled past his lobe, but Sukuna didn’t even blink. Instead, his grin grew wider. 

“Why not aim for my eye? Don’t want to hurt your husband?”

“Fuck you,” you spewed. 

“I will, after we deal with whatever this is right now.”

You pulled another arrow out from your pack and aimed it directly to his eye, the side with bark covering half of his face, and let go. He caught it, of course, but you weren’t done, letting a volley of arrows fly until he no longer had arms to catch them. The arrows that he did catch were stuck to his palms because you modified your weapon to have thorns down the shaft. 

Sukuna’s hands were bloodied as he tried to pull them out but they were stuck in his skin, and from there you took the chance to run up to him and slice his arm with your short sword, but you were stopped by his other tongue wrapping around your arm and halting your movements. The sliminess of the muscle made you falter, and from there Sukuna wrapped both of your wrists in one hand and slammed your back into the tree. He raised up to his eye level and pushed his knee between your legs, causing your robes to ride up and your legs were exposed to the cool air. 

“I find it hard to believe that you made such a simple mistake. Perhaps you wanted me to hold you like this?”

You spit in his face when he got too close and everything stilled. Your heart was beating loudly in your ear, your chest heaving as you thought about what would happen. He actually wasn’t that horrible of a husband to you for the two weeks you have been here. You were just tired of him constantly trailing behind you, because he was infuriatingly tall and buff, blocking out the sun if he was in your view. Or maybe it was the fact you missed your family, and by the contract you weren’t allowed to see them anymore. Or maybe, just maybe, you were ashamed of your attraction to him. You heard the stories of Sukuna, god of war and bloodshed, who tears his enemies apart by the neck and drinks their blood, not because it gave him nutrients but because he wants to. Some say he went back and killed the Devil, his maker, over a petty disagreement. You should be terrified of him, but instead you touched yourself in the confinements of your room late at night, feeling aroused like you did right now, growing wet on top of his knee and ever so slightly rolling your hips over it. 

Nothing goes unnoticed by Sukuna, and his eyes darted over your body and smirked. 

“I think you like to see me angry. Nobody has ever fucked you like you needed it, right?”

You were too prideful to grant him an answer, but he didn’t need your verbal confirmation. He could smell the change in your pheromones and hear the wetness between your folds. He lifted his knee higher to press directly against your clit and used his other hand to hold your face close to his. You weren’t even sure which eyes to look at because all of them were trained on you. 

“Go on, pleasure yourself.” He grabbed your hip with his third hand and rocked you back and forth over his own robe, but it did nothing to soften the firm muscles lying beneath it. He kept guiding your hips until you were doing it yourself, your eyes filled with tears because he still didn’t let go of your face, and you were embarrassed to see him wanting to watch you fall apart up close. Sukuna carefully noted your facial expressions, how your bottom lip quivered and your eyebrows knitted together as you got closer, how your gasps changed pitch as you twitched around his thigh. You squeezed your eyes shut just as your orgasm began to crest over you just for it to be torn away by Sukuna dropping his knee down. You let out a frustrated groan but he held you up against the tree with his arms then kissed you.  

His tongue violated all corners of your mouth, just to go farther and venture down your throat. Spit was dripping down your face as your hands flailed above you but it did not deter him. At the same time his other tongue went under your robes to lick the rest of your arousal off of the inside of your thighs, making a shiver run up your spine. You moaned into his mouth and you felt his sharp teeth graze over your lips. 

“Sukuna,” you gasped. Sukuna looked down at you and licked his lips while looking at yours. They were shiny with spit and swollen, adding even more volume to your already full lips. Sukuna carefully put you on your feet but caged you between his arms. 

“I won’t have our first time on a tree,” he said but cocked his head. “Unless that is what you want?”

You pushed him away and stomped out of the garden, leaving Sukuna chuckling to himself as you made your way back to your home. You didn’t know what you more upset about, the fact that your orgasm was stolen from you or that you would’ve let him fuck you on the tree without any complaints. You saw how hard he was through his robes, yet he had shown more restraint than you had. While you silently fumed you were suddenly lifted up into the air, now sitting on Sukuna’s shoulder. 

“Sukuna, put me down at once!” He heeded your command and dropped you, only to catch you with his other set of arms. Your short descent left you breathless, but now Sukuna held your legs to his waist as he took long strides towards the house. You could feel his dick pressed against your sex and tried not to moan. You glanced up at his face and there was no emotion to it until his lower eye looked down at you. 

“I can no longer restrain myself. Say that you don’t want this.” 

To the surprise of no one you did not say anything, and before you knew it you were in Sukuna’s bedroom. It was a large space, the walls looking as though the place had been carved out of the stone, his bedding various shades of black and red, and he carelessly tossed you on top of the bed before stripping down himself. You tried to remove your own clothing but he gave you a harsh glare that froze you. 

“I want to  undress you,” he pulled your ankle towards him. 

“I am not a helpless maiden,” you grumbled, but you opened your legs to him and he ran his hands up your thighs, lifting your robes until they gathered at your waist. He then tugged at your ties holding your clothing together, making it pool around you on the bed. Sukuna’s eyes traced over your body hungrily. Your skin was deep in tone and rich in color, and your coils that frame your face invited him in. You tried to cover your hardening nipples and your dripping sex but he pulled your arms away and kissed you again, crawling and maneuvering you until your body laid flush on top of his, your legs barely able to wrap around his waist. 

“Let me taste you,” he mumbled into your neck, and before you could question what he said you felt his second tongue slide through your folds and slip inside your sex. Your gasp was swallowed by Sukuna putting his mouth back on yours. Both tongues worked against you and you could feel your first orgasm hurtling towards you. To make matters worse Sukuna made another mouth appear in the palm of his hand, which he used to bite your nipple. You were trembling against Sukuna, two hands now worked on your nipples while the other hands kept you firmly on his tongue, which was rapidly switching from fucking you and toying with your clit. You pulled your mouth away from Sukuna just enough to cry out his name as you came around him, the stimulation from his four mouths all over your body proving to be too much to bear, and still he swallowed your moans with his kiss again. 

“So sensitive,” he mused, trailing his nail down your spine. You were still shaking from your orgasm and didn’t notice him laying you on your back, spreading your legs wide so that no part of you was hidden from him. You took a few shuddering breaths before opening your eyes to see him stroking his length leisurely. You gathered what little strength you had left to rest on your elbows to really look at him. 

“Sukuna,” you panted. “There is no way that can go inside of me.” 

“Why not?”

You watched his precum drip down his dick before raising a brow at him. “The only way it would fit is if I were to whittle it down with my knife,” you threatened. Sukuna let out a low chuckle but loomed over you. One pair of arms held your waist still while the others held him up on either side of your head. Despite the dim candles scattered around the room and the stray streams of light escaping the curtains, you could clearly see Ryoumen’s eyes. They were no longer scanning your body, but focused on your face as well. Would you dare to think that there were drops of real affection in his gaze? 

Sukuna dipped his head to suck on your nipple, putting his palm over the other to gently teeth on it, and brought his third hand to your clit to rub it in tight circles. You hissed under the pressure, tears welling in your eyes as your hands flew to his hair to hold him close. 

“You sharpen your tongue against me with nearly every word you say, but now they are nothing but your sweet moans filling the room,” he hummed. “Tell me,” he paused when you let out another wail because Sukuna lowered his nails and plunged his fingers deep inside your sex. “Do you get more aroused when you throw your insults at me? Do you want to see me angry?” 

“I don’t want anything to do with you,” you said through clenched teeth. 

“Oh? Should I stop then?” You felt him draw his hands away from your body and you pulled him back to you. “No! No, just… keep going,” you mumbled, interlacing your fingers together at the back of his neck. Your heels rested on his hip bone, and you cried out again when he curled his fingers against your g-spot, making your vision go black around the edges. Sukuna slithered his tongue from the hollow of your neck all the way to the lobe of your ear, then tugged it with his teeth. 

“Tell me what you want,” he breathed into you, still tracing your ear with his tongue. Your orgasm was about to consume you again, and your answer came out in fractured sentences. 

“I- I can’t,” you shook your head. “I don’t- I don’t know!”

“I need an answer, human,” he licked the side of your face, savoring the saltiness of your tears. Sukuna felt your legs begin to shake again and sped up his fingers and used another tongue to tease your clit. Sobs wracked your body when you came again, your back arching off the bed and Sukuna held a hand against it to keep you raised and pressed kisses into your chest. 

“Do what you want with my body,” you heaved. “Whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?” He looked down at you while licking his hand clean. Your pussy fluttered around nothing as you watched him, because it was the same look he had when he licked the juice of the pomegranate earlier in the garden. 

“I don’t like repeating myself, you ogre.”

“You’re going to regret saying that,” he rumbled, flipping you over to your stomach. He grabbed various pillows to rest your stomach on, and the Sukuna pushed your back to keep it at a steep arch. He ran his hands over the planes of your body, his palms sucking and biting your flesh at random, and his nails were out again, tugging at skin around your waist as he pulled you closer to him. 

Sukuna dragged his dick between your ass to hear your moan. He teased the tip on the puckered hole but did not push further, wanting to save it for another time. Your sex was practically dripping, your arousal coating the inside of your thighs and dampening the bedding. You pushed your hips back to him to urge him along faster. He chuckled at your eagerness and then pushed past your entrance with little restraint due to your two orgasms. You bit the sheets below you as he stretched you beyond comparison. Sukuna was slowly losing his composure. He wanted to ease you into his size, but your velvet walls sucked him in deeper, making it impossible to take it easy as he had planned. 

You had your hand outstretched in front of you, grabbing the sheets and pulling them close as Sukuna continued to ram harder into you as the seconds went by. You have pulled the entire bedding to your chest now but he was still unrelenting. Your hand clawed the bare mattress and Sukuna bent over your to grab it with his own, interlacing his fingers through the back of your hand. 

“I think you should learn your manners,” he said low in your ear. “I am not some man you can talk to without discretion. We are married now. Show some respect.” Sukuna never stopped fucking you as he pulled your arm back and breast swung from the motion. Your already sensitive nipples grazed over the bedding, adding to the overstimulation you were experiencing. Sukuna held both of your hands to your back with one hand and trailed a sharp nail right over your ass. 

“Maybe I should carve my name here,” he murmured. “Or here,” he traced down your spine, pressing down hard enough to break the skin. “Or here,” he pulled you closer to his stomach to grab the breast over your heart to fill his hand, sinking his nails into the pliant flesh. You cried out in pain and blood dripped down his fingers. He held the bloodstained hand up to your neck and angled your head to stick his tongue down your throat again. Sukuna pulled away to see a line of spit from his lips to yours. You already came around him, your pussy becoming the tightest vice he has ever encountered, but he was far from finished with you. Your eyes were wide and dazed so he pulled out and carefully laid you back on the bed before taking you on your side. 

In this position he had his large hand that could wrap around itself on your neck the whole time, squeezing it at intervals to make you come over again. He had your leg lifted while snapping his hips upward, the concern for your sex slipping further to the back of his mind the longer he spent . Sukuna was determined to mold your insides to the shape of him. He let go of your throat and gagged your mouth with his fingers after he shortened his nails, and the rest of his hands bit and sucked all of your body. There was no part of your being that wasn’t tainted by Sukuna’s touch. You have given up words long ago, resorting to hisses and groans like a woman possessed. The haze that covered your mind was momentarily raised when you felt something wet pressed against your asshole. 

“Uhn,” you tried to speak, but Sukuna’s fingers were still in your mouth. You weren’t scared, but you never had anyone in there before. 

“You can handle it, I’m sure,” he growled before the tongue from his abdomen squeezed its way inside of you. You unexpectedly came again, biting down on Sukuna’s fingers so hard that you had a metallic taste fill your mouth. Sukuna chuckled at the tingling pain, removing his fingers to suck the blood off before putting the hand back on your neck. The other tongue took no time to move as fast as Sukuna, but it was easier to handle since it was salivated. It was a strange feeling indeed. It was not hard like Sukuna’s dick, but folding upon itself once it was inside of you, feeling parts that no one should ever touch. Sukuna was everywhere all at once, completely flooding your senses and you could do nothing but shake around him. At some point he turned you back to your stomach, pressing a palm down in between your shoulder blades to keep you from moving. You kept your face to the side and saw the sheets covered in blood, mainly your blood, and turned to lift your head from the mattress. You lurched forward as Sukuna put more weight on you and leaned into your ear. 

“Please,” you whispered. You could hear Sukuna smiling, then he shifted his hips to hit your g-spot directly. Sukuna and the tongue moved in alternating thrusts that only muddled your mind further. Sukuna used his nail to scrape one of your nipples and your head dropped back into the bed, your toes curling from another impending orgasm. 

“What were you saying,my little wife? I couldn’t hear you,” Sukuna taunted. He stuck his tongue inside of your ear, then harshly bit the skin around it to make you cry out. He put a hand in your curls and lifted your head up to speak to you. 

“Maybe next time you’ll think twice before talking to me anyhow, right?”

Your breath was filled with moans every other exhale but Sukuna pulled your head back until you answered him. 

“ Yess ! I– I’ll be careful, Sukuna,” you gasped. Sukuna wrapped his hand around your throat once more to close your airways for a few seconds before letting go. A heady feeling swirled in your head as air rushed back into your lungs and you heard Sukuna’s voice float around you. 

“Swear on it?”

“I swear!” You would promise him the moon if he asked for it. 

“Call me Ryoumen,” he purred, and you came so hard you were pretty sure you blacked out. Ryoumen rambled about you giving him an heir that would be the world’s greatest soldier as he came inside of you, spurt of spurt of come filling you up and spilling on the bed, and you just laid there, too tired to make a comment, then realizing that you couldn’t. Your throat was sore from crying so hard, and your body was too heavy to move on your own. Ryoumen slowly pulled out from you, first his tongue, then his dick. When he completely removed himself you could feel his come pouring out of you, and his tongue made a long stripe from clit to slit to clean it up, sending a new wave of shocks throughout your body. 

“Sukunaaa, please,” you begged, weakly throwing your hand back to swat him away. He gathered you into his arms and placed a tender kiss on your forehead that sent butterflies in a frenzy in your stomach. You kept your eyes closed and felt him move you to the washroom where there was already a warm water bath waiting for the both of you. Ryoumen carefully dipped you inside before settling behind you. 

“I thought I told you to call me Ryoumen?”

You took a peek at him over your shoulder. His arms were stretched over the stone ledge of the bath, which was made with obsidian and the trim painted gold. Ryoumen rested his head over one hand while the lower arms were crossed. His pink hair was damp and stuck to his forehead instead of its usual spiked style. 

“Well, Ryoumen, we are going to have to change the water soon. You are still leaking out of me,” you snapped. Ryoumen raised an eyebrow at you and you immediately mumbled “sorry”. 

“We can do that later. Rest first.” 

You nodded and faced forward, splashing water on yourself until you were pulled back into Ryoumen’s chest. You were stiff until pieces of prior events flashed in your mind, reminding you that he has been inside of you in almost every orifice, then you slowly relaxed yourself into him. Ryoumen tugged on one of your curls before dropping his hand on your shoulder then dragging it to your neck, then jaw, to pull you into a kiss. Once again your stomach did somersaults, and you were surprised at how soft he could be if he chose to. 

He pulled away and licked his lips before flashing you a fanged smile. 

“Wife.”

“Husband?”

Ryoumen leaned back with a content look. You were confused with the sudden name game, but decided to let it go as a wave of fatigue crashed into your body. You laid against his body, falling asleep to his breathing and the small circles he made on your hip. 

[austinswhitewolf]

One of the Last Morrigan Pt. 2

Here is part 2 everyone! <3

The next day, as Wil was saddling up Cricket, you watched each move he made. He then turns to you, resting his hand on your cheek. “I have to go. I need to find someone. I’ll miss you beautiful Ebony. Take care of yourself.” He said before turning and mounting Cricket. As they start off, you move alongside them, only sliding to a stop and rearing up as they reach the woods. You wished that he didn’t have to go, you were so close to showing him who you really were. With a sad heart, you began to wander, not caring which way you went. You had nothing to keep you here or interest you anymore. 

It was a few hours later that you felt a firm but gentle magical presence calling out to you. A man’s voice spoke to you, saying you were needed to help save the lands, that Wil would need you. At those words, you turned on a dime, heading towards the presence at breakneck speed. Running through the rest of the afternoon and early evening, you were breathing heavy, ground flying by you. As darkness started to fall, you felt the magical presence grow near. You were exhausted and wet with sweat from running the entire time. As you slowed to a walk, moving through a thicker patch of trees, the glow of a fire came into view. You stayed out of sight, looking at the man sitting near the fire, his horse nearby tethered to a tree dozing. The man’s head turned right to where you were standing in the shadows out of sight. When you hear your name in the same voice you heard earlier, it was coming from this man. He tilted his head in respect to you before waving his hand for you to join him near the fire. It took a minute or two before you slowly stepped into the glow of the fire. “It will be easier to talk if you were in your other form, young one.” You took a step back, if he knew, could you trust him? “My  name is Allanon, I’m a druid. You are one of the last of your kind. I knew of your grandparents. They were proud and fiercely loyal people. I was too late to help them. But I helped your parents get away.” He explained how your grandparents had been extremely close to the Shannara’s. How your bloodline and theirs always found each other. Your destiny was tightly entwined with Wil Ohmsford. Then went on to tell you more about your people. When you found love, it was deep, true and for the rest of your life.

While he talked, you shifted form with your back to him. You took the cloak off the log that was sitting there folded and draped it around you before sitting down. Allanon then told you about Wil’s past, what his father had done to help save the four lands with the elf stones that were now in Wil’s possession. He then told you about the Ellcrys and its purpose against the demons, how it was dying. When you finally were able to ask a few questions, your voice was scratchy from being in your horse form for so long. Once he answered your few questions, he offered you food and some water. Then he went about putting some protection spells around the fire. After eating, the exhaustion fully hits you and within minutes you are deeply asleep. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You are woken up by a gentle shake of your shoulder. Flinching and swinging your fist towards whatever had woken you, your eyes shot open when a leather glove gently caught it. “It’s time we find Wil, young one.” With a groan, you sit up, rubbing your eyes. After a small breakfast, Allanon gets onto his horse before looking at you. 

You move over to him, hand him the cloak and then shift back. You stood as tall as his horse. With a nod, you both started off. About twenty minutes later, you heard a happy nicker and Cricket was rushing over to you, recognizing you right away. With a happy head toss and nudge to her neck, you continued to follow Allanon, Cricket staying with you. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you finally came upon a house in one of the trees, Allanon dismounted and tethered his horse to a small tree. “I’ll be back with Wil.” He then headed up into the building. It wasn’t long before he was walking back over to you. He stood there waiting for Wil who wandered over towards him. He saw Cricket first and grinned. “That’s my horse.” He moved to Cricket and started to pat her neck. When you shifted, his eyes glanced over and grew wide. “Ebony?” Wil moved over and held his hand out to you. You stepped forwards and pushed your nose into his hand. He started to rub your neck with his free hand. “You are lucky Wil Ohmsford, this one’s bloodline doesn’t trust easily. Even less allow anyone this close unless they fully and completely trust that person.” His cryptic words made Wil look between the two of you. Shaking your mane out, you then nudge Wil towards Allanon who starts to tell him of the magic in his blood, how he can control the elfstones. His eyes and tone become annoyed then as he tells him that he can’t believe that he let the rover girl steal them from him. Without giving Wil time to ask anything, Allanon mounts his horse and starts away. “We need to get to the Druids Keep. Let's go.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Not stopping once that night, you all reach a cliff overlooking the keep late the next morning. Wil is not impressed at all. When they climb off their horses and walk inside, you wait until they are out of view before shifting again. Being in human form after so long felt so wonderful. You could hear their voices and a few loud noises before their voices raised in volume. Once their voices started to get closer, you let out a sigh and shifted back quickly. Shaking out your whole body just as they were walking out, Allanon looked a little rough. You tilted your head slightly at him and he gave the smallest of head shakes.

“We need to get to Arborlon fast.” With that you were all once again racing off. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you finally reach the border, you slow to a stop when Allanon motions for you to wait just inside the trees for them. You watch them continue on, hearing Wil ask why you weren’t following as they disappeared. You settled in to wait for them, making sure that nothing was going to sneak up on you at all. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s a day later that they are riding back out, you easily joining alongside them in a gallop. When you stop again, Wil is pestering Allanon about a woman. It finally gets to a point that Wil wants to know about his father if Allanon won’t talk about the woman. You snort out a huff, bobbing your head at the same time Allanon smirks when Wil spoke about having to save the world, protect the princess and frying his brain. The druid looked around for a few more minutes before saying you had to head off again. When you reach the ocean, the freedom of the beach and salty breeze fills your heart and you take off at a flat out run. Kicking out and just letting go as you run, some of the recent worry recedes and leaves you feeling lighter. When you reach a slight turn, seeing a woman cleaning a fish, you slide to a stop, ears flattening back. Backing up a few steps, you let out a snort and only relax a little when Wil and Allanon reach your side. The woman was walking towards you when the guys dismounted, you moved to stand just behind Wil. The almost cold way she speaks to Wil has you stomping a hoof, ears laying back again. When Allanon told Wil she was at the waterfall, you followed him, not wanting to be around while the woman and Druid talked. There was major tension there that was making you antsy. 

You easily jump over a few rocky spots as Wil moves over them. “Show off!” He says with a laugh.  You let out a small nicker at him. When the waterfall comes into view, the naked woman along the water's edge freezes you in your spot. Though you closed your eyes, would have rolled them if you could, when he tried to call her over the roar of the waterfall. Trudging along behind him as he moves closer and tries again.

When he slips on a wet rock and drops to the ground, you let out a nose of almost laughter, head bobbing and tail flicking in entertainment. As Wil starts to roll over, you lean your head down, biting the back of his jacking and pulling him up. Time was not a necessity as Allanon had put it. While doing this, you didn’t notice the woman sneak around and when you finally did, your whole body shifted around on a dime, a huff of startlement filling the air. An angry cry flew out when a blade moved to Wil’s neck. That alone kept you still, not trusting her reflexes at all. 

As he turns around once telling her it would be less awkward if she were dressed, you kept your eye on her though shifting between the two once her blade was away from his neck. Putting your head over his shoulder, your ears only relax when his fingers curl around your nose gently. “It’s okay.” He murmurs to you softly, leaning into you lightly. When she was mainly dressed, Wil turned and faced her as she sat on the rock to put her boots on. While she was interrogating him, you kept lipping at his sleeve, not liking how she was speaking to him at all. Your head shoots up when you all hear a scream, your ears flicking around to face the direction. 

[queenxxxsupreme]

Hello! Could I please request a Netflix!Eskel imagine where he's protective/defensive? Him and the reader are in a relationship and maybe while stopped at an inn, another man gets a little too friendly with the reader if that makes sense. Thank you so much for your time, you are very appreciated :)

A/N: Two birds with one stone! I hope you guys enjoy this. I miss tree man :(

Warnings: nothing outside of canon, this is Netflix!Eskel so he isn’t our sweet baby, use of the c word derogatorily 

“Are you sure you don’t need a hand, doll?” 

“I can handle everything just fine.” You looked over to him as you fastened the holster belt around your waist.

“Then why are you taking your daggers?” Eskel raised his brows, eyeing the two blades as you picked them up from the end table by the bed. 

“I like to be prepared. Aren’t you the one always chastising me for not being ready for anything?” It was your turn to raise a brow. 

He grinned just a little. He leaned back on one elbow, relaxing a bit on the bed. 

“Still, I didn’t like the crowd that was out there earlier.”

“You never like the crowds unless they are full of topless women.” You rolled your eyes. He smirked. “I’ll be back with our drinks in a few minutes.”

“If you aren’t back within a reasonable amount of time, I will come for you.”

“Is that a threat, Master Witcher?” You stopped in the doorway to look back at him. 

“It’s a promise, Madam Huntress.” The sly smirk on his lips made your heart race. 

You closed the door behind yourself and began to make your way down to the tavern. 

The crowd was just as rowdy as it had been when the both of you arrived a few hours earlier. Ladies were dancing on tables. Men were drunkenly singing and laughing, cheering the ladies on. 

You made your way to the bar to order drinks. You leaned against the countertop and waited patiently for the barkeep to move down to you. It would take him a few minutes with how busy he was. 

Out of the corner of your eye, someone came up on your left. 

“Good evening, love.”

You pretended to not hear him and instead kept your eyes on the barkeep. 

“How much?” The man next to you rested his elbows on the bartop, bumping you with his elbow. You were almost positive he did it on purpose. 

“I’m not a working lady.” You sent him a brief glare out of the corner of your eye. 

“Well, that’s a damn shame. I’d sure fancy a night.”

Knowing this man wouldn’t take a hint if it hit him in the face– and it was about to –you turned to face him.

“If you fancy your life, you’d turn and leave.”

He laughed as if you had told a joke. He reached out to brush his hand over your hair, but you smacked his hand away. 

“Do not put your hands on me, whoreson.” You hissed. 

“Perhaps you should learn to take a compliment, bitch.” The man stepped towards you as a means of intimidation. His breath was fowl as he spoke down on you. 

“She told you to fuck off, dumb prick.” 

You looked behind the man to see Eskel approaching. His shoulders were squared and his eyes were tense. He was ready to fight. 

“Who the hell are you?” The man pushed himself away from the bartop, unafraid of Eskel. 

You moved to stop Eskel, putting your hand on his chest.

“Eskel–,”

“Y/N, go upstairs–,”

“Come with me.” You pushed against his chest, urging him to ignore the man. You would have started a fight with the jerk if Eskel wasn’t around, but being that Eskel was there, you didn’t want to start anything. It never ended well, and you didn’t want to be run out of town.

“Better control your whore, brother. Else someone might make her pretty face look like yours.” The man gestured to Eskel’s face. “Maybe that’ll teach her some manners.”

“Teach her some manners?” Eskel repeated, taking a few steps forward. 

You were useless in holding him back now. He was using his strength against you as he moved closer to the idiot who cluelessly egged on the witcher. 

“Why don’t you fucking pick on someone your own size, you gods damned cunt?”

A crowd had started to gather around you three by now in anticipation of a good fight. 

Your heart was beating faster and faster in your chest as you pulled at Eskel’s shirt, trying desperately to get him to stop. If he threw any punches tonight, he would definitely kill the man and the entire village would be after him. 

“Enough! Eskel!” You raised your voice, fingers curling into his bicep. 

He turned his head to look at you, nostrils flaring with anger.

“We are leaving.” You told him. 

He held your gaze for a few moments just to make sure you were serious. You were, in fact, dead serious. 

Without another glance to the man, Eskel turned and stormed away, pushing through the crowd. You followed behind him, making sure to keep your hand on the small of his back so that he knew you were with him. 

***

You closed the door to the room behind yourself and leaned against it for a moment. 

Eskel brushed his hands over his face, then back through his hair. He turned back to you, moving to stand boot to boot with you.

“Are you…. He didn’t put his hands on you, did he?” He asked quietly. 

“No.” You shook your head. He nodded once, then turned to sit on the edge of the bed. 

Silence filled the room. You gazed at your witcher for a while.

“Eskel, I-I couldn’t let you fight him because–,”

“I know.” He lifted his head to meet your gaze. The anger had dissipated and a more solemn look took its place. “Just…. I just feared something happened before I could get down there. Then when I got down there, he was calling you names and I…. just wanted to kick his ass.”

“I know. Me too.” You pushed yourself away from the door and moved to stand between his knees. “But we needed a place to rest tonight. An actual bed, not just a camp somewhere in the woods.”

“You don’t deserve that sort of treatment.” Eskel placed his hands on the backs of your thighs, pressing his head into your stomach. 

“No, but I deserve how you treat me.” You brushed your hand over the back of his neck and head. “You treat me like a queen, and I enjoy every second of it.”

“I don’t understand men like him.”

“Well, Master Witcher. Men like you are few and far between. Men like him, unfortunately, are much more frequent.”

He lifted his head and looked up at you, giving you a chance to kiss him. 

“To hell with men like him.” 

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If your name is in italics, it wouldn’t let me tag you :(

[v-era-18]

Sweven ( Apple Black x Demon Slayer )

(The characters of  ‘Apple Black’ by Whyt Manga meets ‘Demon Slayer’ by Koyoharu Gotouge!)

In Taisho-era Japan, two partners by the names of Sano Bengote Tamashii and Opal Wantmore are content with their lives of slaying demons in order to avenge human lives that have fallen to their weak stomachs and horrendous nature. 

Their lives are changed however after a mission to an Opera house, Sano runs into Kibujiski Muzan and is turned into a demon! Determined to turn her partner back to normal, Opal sets out to find answers to a cure in order to turn him back. 

Embarking on her adventure for answers, she soon joins up with her other six  friends to help  aid her in her journey. Faced with even more challenging demons to have Opals and Sanos heads by orders of Muzan would normally be a setback; However how will these characters react once they find out Sano isn't the only demon to live a life without eating humans. 

And the true reason Sano was turned into a demon rather than being killed in the first place. 

Prologue : Toska 

(n.) a dull ache of the soul, a sick pinning , a spiritual anguish 

Despair, anguish, or tragedy. Opal couldn't find which word to describe the situation at hand.  It seemed only an hour ago she was thrown against the tall stone pillar damning her unconscious. In her dazed state she inadvertently listened to the heart retching sounds of death and agony, before black dots consumed her vision. The girl remained on the marbled floor stained red with previous and new accounts of blood from fellow demon slayers listed on the mission inside the opera house. 

Bodies continued to drop one after another, blood curdling screams and manic laughter filling the subconscious as if it was one horrible nightmare. A state of purgatory one might even argue, to hear and feel the pressure of the overwhelming chill knowing someone was being eaten, a fellow member trying to save humanity and her body couldn’t even move. 

Weak, inexperienced, and fearful. So many of them didn’t have what it takes to wield a sword. But they give their hearts souls and minds for the corps, but at what cost? How long will it be before a pillar of hope arrives? How long will it be before half of the humans-teens risking their lives for peace will be eaten by demons they couldn’t finish off. 

The mission was supposed to be straightforward:  head to the old abandoned opera house, bring their blades down upon the demons' heads, and look for survivors. However, they hadn’t anticipated each level to have three demons each, or that Kabusiki Muzan would be paying a visit. They worked so hard, only for them to die such a death at the hands of that monster. May the gods have mercy on their souls. 

~*~

Five hours prior to the incident, two crows flew into view following a cobblestone path towards a wall surrounding the wisteria house appeared within their black hollow eyes. The building was surrounded by towering trees of protection, warding off any demons that dared to run across the premises. 

The house's front gate was worn down, but kept seeming to be replaced every few years or so to provide the utmost protection for the slayers recovering from hard work from saving others from man eating oni. Passing from the gate two demon slayers exited the house following one of the house keepers. The keeper of the house's hair was tied up into a high pony cascading down to the middle of her back. She wore a purple and white kimono with a wisteria family crest with pride on the back. The young woman couldn’t be any older than her twenties.

“Thank you so much for your hospitality!” The black haired boy exclaimed with a wide smile stretched across his face. 

The teen had a blue and white haori over his dark gray demon slayer uniform, the pattern resembled multiple circles with three lines running through reflecting the young boy's family crest. The arm he didn’t lift had an elongated sleeve covering up his well bandaged arm that remains with no invert inflicted . His hair was tied back, blue eyes holding wonder and joy reflecting the morning sky;  a blue and white katana was strapped along his waist 

A girl with a tangerine twin puffed fro bowed in respect with a soft smile, her rainbow dyed haori flowed slightly with the morning breeze with her black uniform. She had brown freckled skin, with bright orange eyes matching her colored hair. Black leather hand warmers were snug against her hands, the sword on her hip matched beautifully with the light green scabbard that withheld gold on the end just like the guard and buttcap. The girl stood up straight, the jewel attached to her hair shined brightly underneath the morning sun. 

Two crows cawed over their heads, gaining the two demon slayers attention, “Kaw!  Kaw! Sano Bengote Tamsii! Opal Wantmore! Report to the opera house to the north! Immediately!” The blue clothed crow cawed above the Tamasiis head, much to his dismay. 

“Already?!” Sano sighed in exasperation, “We just recovered from our last mission! Not to mention the last demon we faced was horrific.” 

Opal twisted her face in discomfort, displeased with the mention of the last demon they fought. Even though the mission occurred a month ago, it seemed only a few days since they last fought off the hysterical she-demon. 

Apparently the demon wanted a baby so badly that they started stealing them from neighboring villages. She wondered if it was even possible for a demon to have a family; how would reproduction even occur under Muzans curse?

A chill ran down her spin; what would happen to the kids if they came out human? The demon they’d encountered two weeks ago was not motherly at all, it takes patience and love to raise a child happily and healthy. During the intense monolog the she-demon had placed Sano especially on edge hearing about her parenting methods to kids before she switched to babies that could barely even crawl. If the child acted out of line or ‘misbehaved’ well, let’s just say the demon had a snack. 

Her stomach lurched and twisted remembering the chilling sight before her as she found one of the infants alive. The nursery was bloodied, the once white walls seemed to be stained pink with dried blood before gradient into a mature burgundy with fresh blood from twenty four hours before their arrival. And oh god, don’t even get her started on the cribs; it was almost as if she wanted a foster home but didn’t want the infants to grow and walk out the large pleasant doors that awaited their future. 

Wouldn’t a parent hold their child and wish them the best of luck before their departure? To utter the words every child would love to hear, the praise, the acceptance, and overall bond they’d share between them as a whole. 

It’s not like Opal would know the feeling, her parents died when she was around the age of five, they probably would’ve loved to know how it would feel; to sit and watch your kin grow into the next generation to surpass the old. Instead they had to watch from above without voicing their approval or dismay with each action she took as a swordsman or a growing woman. 

Instead she had to remember the night her fathers crow sat in front of her older sister, her wails and pleas to the gods falling upon deaf ears. The two of them were left alone, Opal couldn't remember the last time her eldest sibling withheld a truthful smile. 

“Let’s not talk about that one,” Opal lifted her hand up to her crow, it landed swiftly on her palm. 

The crows name was Orion, after a while Opal decided it was best to give her new feathered guide a name to call it as they accompanied her on missions. The bird still had the gold beaded bracelet she made when she was younger, it was loosely around its neck. It still makes her smile a bit to know the crow hadn’t lost it, a silent loyalty. “I’m still not over the ‘nursery’.” 

Sano waved his hands around panicked, “Sorry! I thought you’d be over it by now-not to say that you can’t take all the time you need in order to!,” his face became concerned, eyes laced with worry for her mental health. “Do you need a bit more time-”

“I’m fine Sano, I'd rather not think about anything that has to do with that demon who was a horrible excuse as a ‘mother’.” Her crow was now being fed birdseed along with the boy's crow, ‘Winswerth’ Sano decided to name it, landing on her forearm to join in on the meal. “I’m glad you finished her off quickly while I tended to the boy.” 

“No problem, it was pretty easy! Although I’d have to be honest in all the demons I’ve killed so far, that one I couldn’ t have any remorse for. Even while she cried for her lover who she wanted to give an heir to so badly. I couldn’t help but think of the future the children never got to see.” Sanos words were soft, yet laced with guilt for the lives they couldn’t save. 

Opal smiled, it was of the things she admired about her partner. Sano always thought of others as equals, demons and humans. In all her life she'd never heard or seen a demon slayer have sympathy for demons and compared them to humans. Oni that ate humans in order to grow stronger. She had to admit, after being beside her partner the past year and slaying demons together, and what she witnessed personally, she was torn.

Not all demons were bad. Some had turned and had no other choice but to kill in order to survive. The demon they faced last month was the same. A former human wife who couldn't conceive for her husband she adored.  

However that didn’t excuse their nature and the part Opal loathed the most was from her own horrible experiences with them. 

“The world we live in is complicated,” Sano began as they soon followed the two birds flying overhead towards their destination, “On one hand we control our fate, on the other we let others or our upbringing impact on how we live and our decisions.” 

“The demon was no different. I’m sure she grew up in a loving household, her father or mother found her a well suited fiancé they thought was perfect for her and thought she’d be taken care of-“ 

He cut off, looking back towards the wisteria gate that soon faded from view. No doubt he was thinking about the husband and wife that ran the mansion with their two kids. It was an arranged marriage but they were happy, and even acted like friends. A warm family that devoted their lives to helping the corps for no doubt helping them from demons in the past. 

“I see now not everyone is fortunate to have that dream. I should know better.” 

Opal casted a woeful glance to her partner. Tamashii was an orphan, unlike her, he lost his whole family and clan within one night to a huge massacre from demons. 

The last name Tamashii is well known throughout the corps. A man by the name of Sergo Abraham Tamashii was a famous demon slayer for his strength and mysterious breathing styles no tuskuo could copy no matter how hard they tried. The man was so strong he defeated several hashiras in a fight for training and guidance.  He was feared by all demons, especially the upper moons themselves. The head of the demon slayer corps requested the highest honor to be given, the status of a hashira. He turned it down. Instead, it was rumored he headed back home to his clan and retired early. Devoting himself to his research and settling down. 

The Tamashii clan was burned down to the ground eight years later. 

“It doesn’t hurt to dream, to hope,” Opal began slowly, the breeze was cold and nipped at her chapped lips from jack frost's excitement for the last leaf to fall, “The world is cruel that we know, but it doesn’t matter your upbringing or how bad your beaten into oblivion. It matters how you change your future for the better, to grab onto that string of faith until you make it and see the light.” 

Sano’s mouth was agape before shifting up into a bright smile, “Your right sorry to bring the mood down! We still have a long way to go before we finally have peace!”

He grabbed the girl's hands catching her off guard as they stood in the midst of the dirt road. Sano would have these sudden bursts of excitement here and there, although she has gotten used to it, it still startled her since she isn’t used to being touched often. Orion and Wiiwerth circled above, casted shadows above her and there from the warm sun. 

“Opal I know the others think I’m crazy when I say this but, I’m sure of it! We can make peace with demons!” His face was determined and firm, unwavering as he looked at her. His blue eyes scanned her face for a reaction, what he received was a small smile. With another smile he released her. 

“Alright! Let’s go finish the job so we can meet back up with Angelo-san!” The boy stormed off as the girl stood crossing her arms with a playful look. 

“Tamashii.” 

“Yes?” 

“You’re heading back from when we came.”

It was hours before they arrived at the designated spot, Opal wondered how many demon slayers were assigned here since they couldn’t get the job done. 

They would’ve been there two hours earlier if Sano didn’t keep getting lost on breaks. She doesn't call him ‘lost boy’ for nothing. 

The exterior of the opera house was one to behold. The building was big as expected, however the windows were cracked and busted with age but any eye could see the golden dragon statues in front. They seemed to be tarnished with age on the stairs case, the steps were pure concrete with cracks infiltrated with moss and weeds. 

“It’s a shame it was replaced in the city.” Sano muttered looking at the missing third pillar on the second floor in front . A wash of euphoria flowed through him for a minute as a familiar symphony filled his memory. “Are you a fan of music, Opal?” 

“I appreciate it, it’s really beautiful when people put hard work into their craft. Why are you?” She asked, looking around the entrance to see if there was a discreet way to enter. 

He walked over beside her, a soft look took over his features grabbing her attention. She knew the look too well and fell into the same expression, not out of pity, but a safe welcome for him to share. 

“My mother, she used to play-“ 

An ear piercing scream cut him off as they gazed towards the building, the two of them drew their swords as a figure flew out the second floor cracked window. 

Swathing his sword quickly Sano breathed before catching her mid air and landing on both feet safely. Opal moved towards them, it seemed like a girl two years older than them. Her mouth pooled out blood, her arm sliced clean off with eyes wide with despair. 

“Sano lay her down.” 

The boy did as instructed by a nearby tree, he laid the girl down comfortably as he could. Her gaze was cased over as she looked at him. 

“Papa…..I’m sorry-could…come..home…” 

Sano inhaled, his shoulders shaking as the girl cried believing the boy in front of her was her father she missed dearly. 

One last tear fell, one last breath was taken, and one soul was gone. 

Opal got on her knees and sent a quick prayer of respect, before getting back up and wafting her hand over the girl's eyes to close them. 

“Opal.” 

“I know. No more lives can be lost today.” 

~*~

After it seemed like an eternity, the screams ceased. Amber eyes continued to open and close before widening at the sound of a large faint creak. The girl sat up with a pained whine, her tangerine tinted fro was drenched in blood. Brown skin littered in cuts from the scratches the demons she encountered earlier that month laid waste upon her body. Her rainbow died haori stained red, ripped and torn, her corps uniform didn’t look any better. Another creak sounded out, followed by a thump, then a low growl. 

Opal’s head shot up with an attentive look, her eyes scanning around the room zoning back in on the situation at hand. 

The entrance to the opera house's walls were a muddied maroon red, whereas the marbled floor and pillars added a nice royal touch. imagining how it would’ve been years before, the chandelier would be lit, along with the other candles posted along the walls and pillars would give the room more life. Soft maroon velvet carpet in the halls worn slightly by high quality soles of the rich enjoying the shows as the melodic symphony reached their ears . It was a shame so much wear and rot along the building took over the craft and beauty it had so many years ago. 

Twelve other bodies laid waste upon the floor, six mizuno, four kanoto, and two kanoe. Looking around the old marbled blood drenched floor, she looked around for the signature white and indigo blue haori. 

‘Sano?’ She pursed her lips, none of the uniforms or haori’s displayed her partners colors or the signature patterns she’d grown accustomed to. Letting out a pained groan she stood clutching her side, her eyes locked on the exit she remembered her partner leaving through in fury. ‘That idiot better be alive-‘ her thought was cut short as a sinking feeling entered her stomach. 

Knowing Sano he should’ve been back by now; accessing their injuries and the situation at hand. She allowed her body to lumber out the room, trying to keep her groans and whimpers to a minimum. She could feel her ribs move slightly with each step, her ankle was most likely sprained, not to mention her keen sight was affected from the blunt force to her head. 

The opera house halls were littered in dust, dim candles lit along the hall with an orange hue in its wake. Heading down the hall the smell of protruding ash would’ve been faint to an average human, but to a slayer it was very potent, if Opal guessed correctly seven demons died in the hall alone. 

It took everything in her not to wheeze or gag due to how much ash had lifted into the air alone. It didn’t help there weren't any windows unless you were in a room, the halls weren’t cramped, yet they were just enough to fit two people walking side by side in an appropriate fashion, three if someone was trying to get by. 

The growl and creaks grew louder as she turned a corner leading to what it would seem as a dining hall. The doors were off the hinges, the moon providing light in the dark room. She stepped inside releasing her teal gold sword from its scabbard ,withholding it in a tight grip. The center dining table was smashed right through the middle; large claw-like slashes penetrated the chipping old wallpaper all around the room. Broken glass, porcelain plates, and paintings were trashed and thrown all over the place. 

The teen froze, amber eyes widening at the sight of the teen boy wearing blue and white haori. His hands gripped his head, eyes covered with bangs from his raven tied hair. She took in the scene a breath of relief leaving her lips, but soon a concerned look took place.  

Don’t get her wrong she was happy to see her friend alive, but even she could see there wasn't something right with the scene displayed in front of her. 

“Sano! Thank god you're okay-” Opal cut off as the boy lifted his head, sharp piercing blue eyes took her breath as he let out a low growl from his throat. 

There was no way she was seeing what she thought she was seeing, her hands loosened on the sword trembling in her unsteady grip, backing slowly back to the wall. Sano took a step, then another lifting his head into the full moon light from the large dining window. 

His eyes, the ones that reflected the sky, filled with hope and wonder, were now filled with hunger, sharp with blind rage; another way to simply describe them would be to a snake that was irritated by intruders. Primal incisors were bared in a snarl that didn’t suit the boy's kind nature. Opal couldn't help but feel her stomach drop at the sight, she lost so many people to demons, she never wanted to admit it to herself-.

The boy’s steps got faster, heading straight towards the entrance where she stood, fangs bared for a bite of his first meal as a demon. The moon seemed to freeze them in time as Sano leaped at her, her orbs filled with tears, rejecting the harsh reality, refusing to believe the boy who believed in peace would succumb to the evil that was thrusted upon him.

 -She never wanted to admit that she couldn't stand losing anyone else to the fates laid out before them.  

In the pit of her stomach it finally hit her, the rage and agitation with the curse that's been inflicted upon him. The sorrow and tears she wanted to spill wouldn’t fix this, how many people had to suffer due to Muzans past actions and tracery! So many people die, limbs being pulled, organs spilling out on the floor only for demons to devour them whole with no remorse, only concerns for their soul appetite. Opal loathed the world they were tossed in, she couldn't accept it no longer, Tamshii wasn’t them! He fought bravely to the very end each time they were together and away. The letters they exchanged, the memories of laughter and friendship was all she was going to have left of him? 

No, to hell with fate! 

Quickly with one swift motion, she threw her sword to the side still facing the approaching threat in front of her, grabbing his shoulders as he tried to take a bite, Opal twisted them onto the floor placing her on top. 

Sano struggled and bucked, releasing one growl after another ; she pinned his arms over his head in one hand, using the other to grab a hold of the loose blue knitted scarf to thrust into his mouth, preventing any form of biting to take place. 

“Sano! I know you're in there somewhere!” Opal started, her eyesight growing ever more fuzzy due to the tears threatening to spill over,  “You got this, every trial we always face it together! We came so far….I'm not going home without you so please! Don’t give in!” 

The blue eyed boy struggled harder, biting hard on the knitted scarf, in retaliation he started to grow in size. Amber eyes widened at the strength he grew under five seconds, that wasn’t all, it was the left arm the boy always hid underneath the blue elongated sleeve of his haori. ‘His arm is completely black?! And…. dare I say glowing?’ 

Tamasii always had his arm fully wrapped up from anyone’s sight, one of the many secrets that the boy withheld. But this wasn’t something she expected to be underneath the covering, she expected a burn scar from the fire his family died under, not a full black arm of mystery. 

The boy slipped out of her hold, grabbing by her neck as she was lifted in the air, Opal struggled clawing at the tight grip he started to produce. 

‘Damn it! I lost my focus’ She struggled to stay calm as she looked at the boy below her, tears streaming down her face as hop slowly slipped away with each breath that was lost. Opal placed her foot on the tall demon's chest in protest to the assault, attempting to pry herself from the tightening grip around her windpipe. 

“Sa-no! P-please,” She wheezed, instinctively leaning her head back trying to gain more air, “d….don’t leave me too…”. Her vision seemed to be fading with each breath she failed to take in the room. 

Opal closed her watered eyes, accepting the fact it was over, if anything she would at least die at the hands of someone she secretly adored and held close to her heart. She tried her best, that was a well known fact; now she would suffer the same fate many other fellow slayers have before. A flash of familiar faces filled with smiles filled her conscience, a certain black haired boy stood tall and proud with a raised cup, declaring a toast to a hopeful future filled with peace. 

‘I wish I could've said goodbye to the others-’ Her thoughts of despair were cut off abruptly , with her falling to the floor with a hard ‘thump’. 

Opal inhaled at last gasping air as if she'd never get the chance ever in her life, coughing as she looked up at the boy, inessail shock taking over her features as she took him in. A sobbed left from his lips as he looked down at his hands then back to her.

 “Sa-” She coughed and wheezed again, trying to gain her bearings. A warm heavy weight enveloped her, arms wrapped around her frame, trembling. Opal looked to the side, seeing the familiar sight of black hair tied to the back, she wrapped her arms around him as well, a soft whimper leaving her lips. She can’t remember the last time she cried, gripping his hiori tighter as the girl sniffed. 

“Hey lost boy? Can you understand me?” She hadn’t expected him to speak, he was still shaking. 

Opal knew Sano treasured their friends and especially their friendship, it'll take him a while to get over the fact he tried to eat her after she tried talking to him. A simple nod is all she received, ‘Close enough’. 

Her partner released her, his hand resting on the back of her neck, kneading it softly as if to get rid of the pain he inflicted earlier. His thick eyebrows furrowed, his lips frowned, his eyes still remained demonic but glossed over with tears. She offered a loose smile showing him that she was just glad he was somewhat alright. 

A large bang could be heard through the house of music, startling the two. Voices were heard along with orders given. Opal looked at Sanos' predicament in alarm, realizing a crucial detail. 

‘Sano is a demon now, even though he's showing emotions and hasn't killed anyone he would still be killed. It's against the corp’s rules to let him live!’.

 She stood up in one go instantly regretting it as a wave of nausea and the condition of her injuries caught up with her. Opal wobbled on her feet, the dining room spinning. Her partner was there in a flash, throwing her arm over his shoulders to provide support they’d done so many times before. 

“Sano,” She started with a low whisper, “You have to leave. Now.” 

Looking over at the boy, she was met with an intense stare and frown. Knowing how stubborn Tamashii was, there was no hope for them splitting up due to her injuries. He simply moved her over near where her sword was thrown to the floor. He swiftly picked it up along with his scarf, making sure not to jostle Opal too much around his shoulder. 

“We have no time to argue on this!,” Her tone was sharp, expressing the intense emotions that wound up in the depths of her mind, “Due to the situation a Hashira has most likely been sent here to help! You do know what that means don’t you-“ 

The girl was cut off by her partner throwing her over his shoulders onto his back. Opal was so hellbent on having her partner escape she didn’t even realize they had teleported a good way away from the house of music. It was a habit the boy had to let her ramble as he continued to use his breathing style in order to get them to their destination faster. He didn’t use it all the time though, just in case they ran into a demon unexpectedly one night without proper rest from their last mission. 

Once the demon boy adjusted her as comfortably as possible, gripping her thighs for support he broke out into a sprint, although the girl would’ve laughed, fought, and pointed out how childish the ‘piggyback ride’ was; she simply didn’t have any more energy left. Opal wanted to question where they were going as they passed by streams, bushes and wide clearings they’d used to rest near after a mission. Her eyes could barely stay open, each breath she took led the world as she knew to become fuzzy and merged. 

Sano must've noticed the girl's current state as he started to run faster, teleporting  every now and then to make up for time. He moved his left shoulder in a jerk that her head laid upon, a silent ‘stay awake’ of an order. 

Her partner knew she was trying, but she couldn’t anymore. The grip she once had around his shoulders loosened, soon falling at her sides, resulting in the boy leaning forward so she wouldn’t fall off. Opal glanced up at the moon, the night seemed so pretty even though a series of deaths for so many demon slayers happened every night without fail. 

For a moment, as her eyelids closed, her breathing becoming shallow, the steps of her partner silent yet concentrated to get them to their destination. 

‘I wonder if demons admire the beauty the night has to offer?’ 

[lesbianonna]

St. Polina

or: alt romitri meeting for the first time

Rose knew she shouldn’t go past the wards — everyone knew — it was past four in the afternoon, and the autumn leaves were grazing her cheeks as wind bit her skin. Her lungs filled with the cold of the season as she ran for cover. One more hour, and Strigoi were going to chew on her like a dog on a bone.

Mason had bailed on her.

Actually bailed.

She was going to kill him.

As soon as she made it back to St. Vlad’s, which was in the opposite direction she was running, she was going to take her time ending his life.

Then, lit up like a Christmas tree a month too early, she spotted the Russian province of St. Polina. She hesitated.

Rose had grown up at her school, no province to call her own, no heritage to claim, but knew that if a dhampir was in trouble, anyone would take her in. Her pace picked up.

The cobble stones felt familiar yet strange beneath her boots, as if she was intruding. The thought of a Strigoi at her heels made any shame crumble off her body, however.

A pack of blood whores smiled at her, greeting her in Russian. She avoided eye contact with an awkward smile. “Yes, hi,” she mumbled, and looked for a place more cozy, less scandalous to stay for the night. The moon hung high now in the sky, and Rose was set on protecting her neck from Royal Moroi men looking to score. The last thing she needed was getting stuck being a Moroi’s favorite; she’d rather face off a Strigoi without weapons and a year’s training missing.

Green lights nearly blinded her as she turned the corner.

Music and alcohol.

She opened the door.

Off duty Guardians laughed together, hanging off each other and raising their glasses after what she assumed was a successful night. Rose attempted to blend in, but there were a lot of brunettes and tall men, and she soon stuck out like a sore thumb.

“And who do we have here?”

A group of young dhampirs smirked at her, eyes lingering on her midriff and chest a bit too long. She placed her hands on her hips. “Celine.”

“Celine, I like—“

“Alright, enough.”

Luckily, before they could take it far enough for Rose to break their noses, a tall dhampir in a long coat shoved at one of their shoulders, waving him off. They seemed to be friendly enough that it didn’t cause a fight. Rose sighed internally.

“You’re not from here.” Not a question. It was obvious. Aside from Rose’s terribly obvious accent, she couldn’t blend in if she tried. Even the female Guardians wore tight dresses and makeup. She felt like an outsider even with her own people.

“What do you mean, I’m right from up the street.”

He suppressed a smile. “Of course. We’re practically neighbors.” They sat together at the bar. “What are you doing here? You’re not a student at St. Jude’s, are you? I patrol there from time to time.”

Rose shook her head, giving in as every ounce of annoyance she felt towards Mason rushed into her chest. “St. Vladimir’s. I was supposed to meet someone not far from here, but he ditched me. When it got dark, I ran for my life.”

“Literally.” He raised his glass. “Now what’s your actual name?”

Rose cocked her brow. “What makes you think I’m not Celine?”

“I have a feeling you’re not the kind of girl who just gives out her name.”

She grinned, taking his glass from him. The ice cubes were cold, cooling the blush on her cheeks. “Rose. Rosemarie Hathaway.”

His long fingers took the glass back. “Dimitri. Dimitri Belikov.”

[kammartinez]

I work in a blue-chip gallery, and it’s not unusual that I’m asked if I grew up in Newport when I say that I’m from Rhode Island. It often feels like a loaded question, more social barometer than casual inquiry, and it’s clear that my response will either indicate our mutual class affiliation or amplify the differences that I already know exist between us. Sometimes I can see the flare of pleasure that people feel when they say “Newport,” the word conjuring, as it must, visions of sailboats and private beaches, country clubs and rocky cliffs thrashed by the waves of a restless Atlantic. I always sense that there’s a secret on the other side of the inquiry, but I guess I will never know exactly what it is; I grew up half an hour west of Bellevue Avenue in a modest split-level ranch that my father built. I’ve seen only small slices of those gated houses, the quick flashes of stone and shingle that are revealed through a break in the trees.

In high school I had a friend named Vanessa whose mother was a nurse at Newport Hospital. We would sometimes catch a ride with her and walk up and down Thames Street, where we shoplifted scented lotions from Crabtree & Evelyn and searched diners and parking lots for the town’s seemingly nonexistent boys. I don’t remember that we ever once considered spending an afternoon following Cliff Walk, the coastal path that wends its way past Newport’s eccentric archipelago of Gilded Age mansions. We liked looking at things we couldn’t afford, but only if we could fit them into our pockets, only if we could take them home with us to scrutinize within the privacy of our own bedrooms.

I briefly moved back to Rhode Island following the collapse of my first marriage. It was the summer before I turned twenty-seven, and I spent three months hiding away in my childhood bedroom, grief-damaged and humiliated by the task of trying to figure out who and how I was supposed to be. My husband and I had managed to stay married for only four years, the last of which I spent watching from the sidelines as he enjoyed an unexpectedly rapid and very public rise as an artist. His newly minted success introduced a host of newly minted problems, and I drifted through most of that winter and spring weeping in the utility closet at the boutique where I worked and asking him where I fit into his life so many times that I eventually didn’t fit into it at all. By that July, we were completely estranged. I was living with my parents when his art dealer sent me a copy of The Age of Innocence, Edith Wharton’s 1920 Pulitzer Prize–winning novel that lays bare the punitive cruelties of a leisure class as expert at collecting things as it was at discarding people. Partially set in the Gilded Age Newport where Wharton herself had summered from the late 1870s through the turn of the century, the book lifts a curtain’s edge on what once happened inside those hedgerow-protected compounds. I never asked the art dealer if he was suggesting that I was a May Welland or an Ellen Olenska, but maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe he was telling me that all bad marriages are exactly the same, that it makes no difference where you live or what you have, because even glamour cannot temper the pain of being left.

I fell in love with Wharton during those lonesome months; I found fragments of myself in The Custom of the Country’s Undine Spragg, in The House of Mirth’s Lily Bart, in Summer’s Charity Royall, each one of them unable to foresee that folly follows when we expect too much. It wasn’t until many years later that I learned that the author who wrote with such precision about what transpires inside the unhappiest of homes had herself lived in a succession of them. Raised by a rigid society mother who was by turns remote and overbearing, Edith Newbold Jones was twenty-three when she married Teddy Wharton. The union helped her escape the control of a family that found her literary aspirations inconveniently vulgar, but so ill-matched were Teddy and Edith that Henry James once said that the marriage was, in retrospect, “an almost—or rather an utterly—inconceivable thing.” The young Mrs. Wharton soon realized that her new husband was a professional vacationer plagued by alcoholism and manic depression, a man who found his equilibrium indulging in the communal “watering hole amusements” that she went on to pillory with brutal accuracy in her novels and short stories. It was at Land’s End, the couple’s cliffside Rhode Island home, that Edith understood that she’d consigned herself to a new kind of domestic subjugation: a sexually and intellectually dissatisfying quasi-union that withered incrementally under the pall of Newport’s convivial excesses. “There are certain things one must possess in order not to be awed by them,” she wrote in 1900’s “The Line of Least Resistance,” a story, set in Newport, about a dissatisfied wife and her rich but gormless husband. One is left to wonder whether the line refers to objects or to women.

***

Wharton’s writing frequently draws parallels between the claustrophobia of an overstuffed parlor and that of marital suffering, and it is often through a rejection of architectural convention that her heroines express their hunger for freedom. (Think of would-be divorcée Ellen Olenska setting up house in her bohemian West Twenty-Third Street apartment.) In the late 1890s, Wharton, fatigued by the disorganized ostentation that she felt was transforming Newport into a “Thermopylae of bad taste,” began examining the relationship between architecture and psychology, ultimately developing a philosophy that called for the union of symmetry, classical proportions, and elegant utility. She outlined this trifecta of principles in her 1897 book, The Decoration of Houses, and later realized them in the construction of the Mount, the Lenox, Massachusetts, compound she codesigned following the sale of Land’s End in 1901.

Lenox, which lies in the shadow of the Berkshire Mountains, had already established itself as a summer enclave for wealthy New Yorkers by the time the Whartons purchased their 113 acres of lakeside farmland, but for Wharton the area retained a vestige of “hideous, howling wilderness,” as one unnamed traveler had described it two centuries prior. The outskirts of the land were still populated, albeit sparsely, by insular pockets of the “Swamp Yankees”—local vernacular for New England mountain people—that haunt the pages of Summer and Ethan Frome.

Wharton found in the countryside a respite from New York’s surveillance, relief from Newport’s extravagance, the freedom to choose her own company, and material. It was on Hawthorne Street that Wharton’s friend Ethel Cram was fatally injured by a horse kick to the skull, an event that served as the impetus for her 1907 novel, The Fruit of the Tree. One can drive past the train station where Wharton received out-of-town visitors like Henry James and English novelist Howard Sturgis. The steep decline from the town square was the site of the deadly 1904 sledding accident that inspired Ethan Frome. Kate Spencer, an assistant librarian at the Lenox’s public library, was injured in the accident; visiting the library this past fall, I found myself imagining the hours Wharton must have spent quietly studying her young friend’s scarred face and limping gait, searching her for evidence of the distance between public and private pain.

“It was only at The Mount,” Wharton recalled in her 1934 memoir, A Backward Glance, “that I was really happy.” The two primary—and parallel—themes that run through its pages are the histories of her writing and of her homes, mutually informative and enmeshed passions that surface even in her earliest recollections. The Mount is presented as the site that allowed Wharton to consolidate her power as a novelist, a house on a hill from which she could regard, from a slight distance, the life she was born into yet was savagely critical of.

In 1980, nearly a half century after the memoir’s publication, a cache of three hundred letters written by Wharton to a protég�� of Henry James’s named Morton Fullerton was brought to market by a Dutch bookseller. Dated between 1907 and 1915, the letters—long thought to have been destroyed—offer proof of an extramarital affair with Fullerton that began at the Mount when Wharton was forty-five. Though the painful longing and ecstatic satisfaction that ricochet through these private missives is predictably missing from the memoir, the experience clearly inflected her recollections of the house and shaped the novels she wrote there. “You told me once,” she wrote to Morton in 1908, “I should write better for this experience of loving.”

Regardless of the revelations borne out by the affair, it was only after discovering that Teddy had embezzled nearly fifty thousand dollars from her trust to fund a Boston apartment for his mistress and the pleasure of several chorus girls that Wharton brokered a deal for her escape. She let go of the Mount to let go of the marriage, leaving in 1911, after handing the deed to Teddy in exchange for her freedom. By the time her boat arrived in France, the house had been sold.

***

The Mount, a gleaming white H-shaped jewel dressed in candy-striped awnings and marble balustrades, is located two miles from Lenox, and accessed via a winding, wooded driveway. Incorporating elements of French, Italian, and English styles and built into the side of a large hill, the building is a master class in visual harmony. I visited this past fall with my second husband, my first time there since the eighties, and joined a late-afternoon tour group that convened under the golden light of a slowly dipping sun. Outside the house, our tour guide, a fifty-something woman with a no-nonsense bob, sensible shoes, and a large yellow service dog, pointed out Wharton’s devotion to symmetry, evident not only in the labyrinth of formal gardens that bloom in the summertime with phlox, lilies, hydrangea, and dahlias, but also on the building’s facade, which features a set of dummy windows that compensate for an architectural imbalance. I thought it an unusual gesture, though I soon realized it wasn’t so for Wharton; inside the house are false doors, decorative panels that feign access to nonexistent rooms, and strategically placed mirrors that offer the illusion of depth. I was reminded of Lily Bart’s fatal reliance on artifice and of my own desire, all those years ago, on reading the novel for the first time, to believe until the very end that she might actually survive in spite of it.

Our group of eight included two teenage boys, a woman nestling a small curly-headed poodle to her breast in a baby sling, an elderly couple, and a man who did not once remove a pair of wraparound sunglasses. We entered the house through a grotto-style front hall finished with stucco walls and a terra-cotta-tiled floor, and then went up a staircase to a vaulted-ceilinged gallery on the main floor, outfitted with a series of arched doors. From there the rooms unfold enfilade, redirecting traffic flow away from Edith’s private rooms, the places Henry James referred to as the Mount’s “penetralia.” In her lifetime, Wharton was frequently accused by both friends and critics of an impulse to reveal much about the lives of others while giving away very little about her own, and the latter is evident in the way she policed her personal spaces. “It shall be born in mind,” she once wrote, “that, while the main purpose of a door is to admit, its secondary purpose is to exclude.”

In Edith’s bedroom, the two young men in our tour group, who had at some point produced what looked like a photographer’s light meter, began running the device over the room’s bed, a vase of flowers, a mirror, an empty bureau, a disconnected telephone, and a small stack of books. I watched the lights on the device flicker anemically, emitting yellow and green flashes in short bursts that seemed to indicate nothing at all. “Is anyone here?” one of them asked. “Are you here?” They were not looking for Edith Wharton—just her ghost. “They shouldn’t do that!” I said to my husband, loud enough for everyone in the group to hear. “The House of Mirth was written in this room!” By this point my spoilers had begun to fatigue our guide, a nice woman whom I had unfortunately made an enemy of with my repeated interruptions and various usurpations, with my impulse to anticipate future turns in the tour’s script without concern for how it made either of us look. She didn’t seem to mind when my husband and I opted to linger in Wharton’s room so I could look out through the window at the forest and the lake, and no one said a word when we decided to break off from our group and head out on our own.

Walking the property’s grounds, I thought about what it means to be allowed entry into a stranger’s Eden, how impossible it is for the dead to protect themselves from the violence of our curiosity once we are allowed access to their private spaces. I thought of the hours I’d spent scouring passages from The Life Apart, the secret erotic diary the author kept for the duration of her affair with Morton Fullerton and the only place where the author was ever able to address her own carnal appetite. From the sentimental little hill of the family pet cemetery, I looked out to the mountains at the view that inspired Wharton to revisit a short story she’d written in French many years before. It was 1910, and the writer’s turbulent relationship with Fullerton had reached its inevitable conclusion. Provided with the distance to compare an unhappy marriage with the thrill of illicit erotic distraction, Wharton began to write Ethan Frome, coding herself as the title character, her husband as his infirm wife, and Fullerton as Mattie Silver, the servant with whom Ethan is in love. Wharton so often wrote about herself that we don’t need to pry to find all the things she never meant for us to see. There is a short passage in Ethan Frome that I return to, sometimes, when I feel my curiosity becoming caustic, when my fascination turns invasive, when I begin to run my ghost meter over someone’s life just because I can. “I had the feeling,” the narrator states, “that the deeper meaning of the story was in the gaps.”

[bearsinpotatosacks]

Day 2 of Benthan Week 2022 - Villain AU

Takes place after Hook, Line and Sinker which is on my AO3 bearinapotatosack. Mentions blood and general injuries. @benthan-week-2022

Words: 1787

He limped away from the factory and into the night. His feet crunched against the glass. A buzzing feeling ran up his legs. He couldn't feel where he was walking. It was all instinct. 

Every road looked the same as he made his way out of the industrial estate. Occasional trees broke the rows of warehouses and tarmac. 

The warehouses turned into office buildings, identical, and more factories with quiet sounds echoing from the night shift. In the distance, he saw the closed doors of shops and restaurants. Empty benches and cars rolling past, crunching on the cracked roads.

Skyscrapers loomed against the background. The modern world so far off. People sleeping, resting in their own existence. They didn’t have to kill or fight or protect the world with your hands and your head. Didn’t have to limp across a city dripping blood just to get to a safehouse that would be cold and heartless.

He looked around again and saw the warehouses melting away. The shops grew smaller and he found himself hobbling through a suburb. 

It was so peaceful here. He could almost imagine a life of his own here. Almost. Because any normal life for him was impossible. He'd tried that with Julia and the consequences were catastrophic. 

Although the pain was still there. The jealousy over other people getting a chance at a life, when he already knew he was going to die in the field. He'd never get to retire. He couldn't even hold down any hobbies, being shipped from mission to mission didn't leave much for a personal life.

More pain came shooting up his spine. His hand was soaked in blood. Hazy patterns formed in his vision as he realised how much blood he'd lost. 

He stopped as his head started to spin. The scenery had changed again, he was surrounded by newer buildings and cafes. Chairs sat upside down on tables. Lights were off. 

The sounds of the night, the wind, cars on the road in the distance, all faded and clouded. His feet shuffled, stumbled. His knees buckled and before he could stop himself, he'd collapsed on the stone slabbed floor.

The world was so dark at night. Light pollution made it so he couldn't see the stars. It made him miss home, his childhood, in a way he hadn't in years. If he was going to die, he wished he could see the stars.

But as he was squinting at the sky, he missed the echoing footsteps getting closer from the shadows. 

"Well, Mr Hunt, I didn't expect this to be how we first met?" A British voice came from the shadows. 

"What?" 

He tried to look up, but moved his neck too fast and felt a shockwave. A headache was forming. High pitched buzzing settled in his ears.

"I've been observing you for a while, Mr Hunt, but I guess I should be grateful you're alone." He came closer. "You're either surrounded on a mission or on your way to the next one, which is admirable to watch, but not useful for meeting you."

He tried to roll over but his arms wouldn't work. This voice didn't seem to have a body. He knew it did, obviously, but guessed that he had to settle for just listening. Ethan didn't like to settle.

"Who are you?" He wheezed. "And how do you know who I am?"

"Oh, Mr Hunt, I don't think we're really on a first name basis," he said. "And I've already told you, I've been watching you for a while, you really should listen more, your life is quite riveting."

Ethan scoffed. The floor was getting cold. It seeped into him, like how his blood was oozing out.

"That hardly seems fair, you know who I am, and I know absolutely nothing about you."

The voice laughed. It wasn't empty but almost cold. Whoever this was, they were enjoying this. 

A foot, wearing a shiny, brown, real leather shoe, came to press on his shoulder. A small shock of pain thrilled through him again. He groaned and shivered. 

"I think you of all people should know that life is rarely fair."

He pushed his eyes as far up as they could go, craning to see who this was. He was getting embarrassingly desperate. This person was charismatic, yet cold, charming but mysterious and he'd caught Ethan's attention. He couldn't deny that something had been awoken within him.

"But you did catch my eye some time ago, and I've been itching to meet you," he said, his voice getting softer. "And although they say never to meet your heroes, I think you're exactly what I expected."

"What? Bleeding out on the floor?"

He laughed, "Trying his best no matter the cost."

Ethan chuckled as a wave of sickness befell him. He only started to realise now that his fingers and toes were tingling. His eyes wanted to flicker shut but he knew that was dangerous, he may not open them again.

"Tut, tut, Mr Hunt, you really aren't in good condition, are you?" The voice said.

His voice was getting far away. Darkness edged in from his peripheral vision.

He just about heard the voice say, "I'll have to look after you," before some well crafted hands gripped his underarms and he gave way to unconsciousness.

When he awoke, his first thought was of how soft everything felt. The pillow his head lay on. His fingers clutched the duvet, tickled his fingers in their cheap luxury. As his eyes opened, the lights were on low. He appreciated it. Harsh, bright light would make his headache worse.

"I see you're awake." The voice was there too.

"Where are we?" 

His voice was dry. He struggled to remember the last time he drank anything, or ate, or showered, or changed his clothes.

Taking care of himself was a struggle sometimes during missions. Too much adrenaline blocking the vital signs, not enough time to care. It was why he needed people like Luther to shake him after a mission, remind him he's human and take him for something to eat. Although reminding him that he was only human wasn't always a good thing. 

"The Berlin Safehouse, it's quite comfortable here, more comfortable than I expected."

Ethan laughed, "I don't really notice."

He was shrouded in darkness. Shadows took over the space around the bed. It was a coincidentally lucky way to hide himself, although he was sure it wasn't a coincidence.

What surprised him was the pair of hands that emerged from the shadows. They were aged and worn. Skilled from use that made him question what he did for a living. But they were manicured and curated. Carved well and soft as they felt his head.

He wore a flashy watch and had pale white skin that looked tanned under the amber lamplight. His sleeves were rolled up and muscles lined his arms. Not too muscular but enough to hold his own. 

"You don't have a temperature, so it means no infection, I already dressed your wounds." The hands retreated, his heart sank slightly. "You need to eat, drink and take some painkillers."

Ethan shuffled up despite his head getting groggy. He was handed a tray with a simple sandwich, glass of water and some tablets.

He took a ravenous bite. The soft white bread and smooth saltiness from the tuna hit his mouth and made him salivate. God, he'd been hungry.

After swallowing, he asked, "Why are you doing this?"

"Because I'm invested in you."

"Why?"

He took another bite, then gulped down his water with the painkillers. The pain was throbbing dully in the background. He was just glad to be alive, even if his saviour was being oddly mysterious.

"Your life is pretty compelling, I feel like I'm watching an action movie when I watch you."

He choked on another sip of water. The hand came back to pat him on the back.

Once he'd recovered, he stuttered, "Watch me?"

"I haven’t exactly been subtle in my hints that I watch you." The man laughed. "How else did you think I would've heard of you?"

"Could be an agent, my friend, Jane, tells me that I'm a living legend in the statecraft business," he said.

 The man laughed. He laughed like the thought was hilarious.

"Try again."

"You're not an agent? Then how do you-" he stopped himself. "You're rogue, aren't you?"

"Such a dramatic word, we do the same thing, I just refuse to have a morally questionable governmental agency deciding what's right and wrong."

He felt sick. He'd been buddying up with a rogue operative. And although he knew he wasn't like Lane or Walker, he still had the same reaction to someone working for the greater good with no one to keep them in check. 

"I know what's right and wrong, and I know the IMF aren't perfect-"

The man feigned shock, "Not so loud, they might hear you."

"And I, for one, should know that they disavow far too easily," he said. "But I also know they hold you accountable when things go wrong and help you to make a difference."

"Well, despite our difference of opinion, I do have to admire your loyalty, they've fucked you over a multitude of times and yet you're still on their side," he pondered. "I think I would've given up by now, I don't take being betrayed well, it's probably why I work alone."

He heard a shuffle and heard footsteps vacate the bed.

"It must be lonely," Ethan said.

The man didn't reply but he heard more movement. He seemed to be contemplating something, doing something. Maybe he was going to leave? Maybe kill him? He was defenseless enough, lulled into an almost false sense of security. 

But the shadows broke. He got a face to put behind the voice and wasn't disappointed.

A ragged but manicured beard on a pale, slightly aged face. He looked a few years younger than himself, not many but definitely younger. A crisp brown suit, with dark green shirt and brown tie, fit his neck well. He gave him an awkward, yet charming smile that made his crystal blue eyes sparkle. It made the swooping feeling return.

"Oh, don't worry, Mr Hunt, I can look after myself." 

He lent closer, their faces inches apart. His face tingled. Not from pain but excitement. 

"And besides, I think I've made a friend to keep me company."

And he closed the distance, laying a soft kiss on his cheek. Ethan was dumbfounded. Didn't process that he'd kissed him before he'd left the room and left him stroking the faint feeling of where his beard had scratched against his cheek.

Yeah, I wrote these at the end of June, early July in preparation for this, so this is why there has been a break from your regularly scheduled Top Gun fics. I love villain Benji so I had to write something for this prompt. Hope you enjoyed!

[morfanerina]

Lost and Found (and Lost again)

Six-eared Macaque was always a wanderer, never managing to quite keep to one place. There was too much to see from what he could hear and staying for too long kept him antsy. He needed to move, as the wind from which he was born did. Then he meets a little Stone Monkey. –.----.-- A life when Macaque becomes the main caretaker of a stubborn stone born Monkey. From their first meeting to the beginning of the Journey to the West.

CW: Some blood and (not really descriptive but to be safe) gore, Animal Death.

Chapter 1 of 3

Chapter 2/Chapter 3

Also on AO3

Macaque sighed, ears fluttering while he tried to discern if there was any danger around. He could hear a monkey tribe nearby, the aura of yaoguai faint but already present even as far away as he was. He played with the idea of asking the yaoguai for shelter, they were probably even monkeys considering the area, but dismissed the idea. Rarely were kingdoms this isolated kind to travelers like him. The normal monkey tribes, however, usually didn’t care, even if they were wary, they tended to just stare at the intruder, maybe even greet him, so they were always good to bunk down. Also, wild monkeys always knew where the best fruit was.

He was surprised to notice they weren’t quite normal monkeys. A bit more intelligence in their eyes while studying him, though not to an yaoguai level. Maybe. 

Seemed FlowerFruit Mountain was as special as the rumors said.

The spiritual monkey wondered if the rising risk of being attacked was worth staying in a place with food and fresh water in abundance, as he passed by a group who went silent and was staring at him going through.

His stomach growled, a couple of the closest monkeys turning to stare at him.

Yeah, he needed to refuel. He just had to pay a bit more attention than usual. No problem.

Just as he decided that, a small hand tugged at his fur and he did his best to hide his flinch before looking down to his side to see a small monkey, with gold fur and golden eyes, staring curiously, and fearlessly, up at him.

Bending down to look closer at the cub, his ears fluttered trying to catch any suspicious sounds around besides the movement of leaves and bird calls, and he saw as the little monkey’s eyes widened in delight. Not the usual reaction Macaque got when anyone noticed his ears, but he wasn’t going to complain about it.

The cub chirped and Macaque blinked, taking a moment to think about what the cub said. His monkey speak was a bit rusty but he eventually picked the cub at a distance, arms outstretched and leaving the cub dangling awkwardly. He picked up a snort from his until then unnoticed audience. 

There goes the extra attention to his surroundings. 

The little monkey gave him an unimpressed grunt and then tried to reach his ears “Yeah, not going to let you reach them kid,” he said, and the audience started to mutter around. The kid looked at him with a squint and he awkwardly tried to use his, admittedly very rusty, monkey dialect. 

The cub wasn’t the only one snickering in response to his attempt which, ok, was just rude. Then the kid unexpectedly twisted and fell with a disgruntled huff, a pouting look thrown to someone behind Macaque. Quickly he turned, expecting to have to deal with a protective member of the tribe ready to (attempt to) pummel him to the ground. Instead, an elderly gibbon approached, a couple handfuls of monkeys scattered near the closest trees but far enough to immediately hide if they needed to, leaning forwards to watch the interaction. He honestly couldn’t tell which were yaoguai and which were just normal monkeys.

The gibbon cooed at the cub next to him and the kid huffed. Instead of obeying the older primate, the cub plastered himself to his leg, refusing to go to her side.

Well then. This was happening.

Instead of starting to accuse him of something, the gibbon didn’t look surprised and looked at him, dark eyes studying the six ears he was named after. He tried to look as benign as he could. He really didn’t want to get attacked by overprotective monkeys.

“Who are you?” Macaque blinked. That. Was Chinese, accented and a bit old fashioned, but still recognizable. He introduced himself, affirming his interest in just passing through and to rest, if possible. Emboldened by the non-aggressiveness towards herself and the cub, the gibbon pressed her questions, relaxing as he answered glibly. 

As the cub started to yawn and the audience dispersed, the gibbon eventually seemed satisfied with her questioning and invited him to share some fruit. This reminded his stomach that he was starving and the growl actually startled the sleepy little monkey leaning on his leg, who looked up at him in disgruntlement.

Chuckling, the old gibbon finally approached the two and picked the golden cub, who immediately clung sleepily to her back. With a gesture to follow her, she started to walk. Macaque followed her to a mango tree that she climbed nimbly, throwing a couple of them to him still on the ground.

“I can climb,” he muttered and then scarfed down the mangoes in such a speed he almost choked. The gibbon snorted, somehow having heard him, and turned her attention to the cub, cajoling the child into eating the fruit before he fell asleep. With more energy in his body, Macaque climbed next to the gibbon and tried to not to flinch as the cub immediately turned his attention to him. With another snort, the six eared macaque suddenly had a lap full with a bemused young monkey, and a half peeled mango in his hand. The gibbon’s lips twitched and then she went to pick more fruit, gesturing to both of them to stay put.

Golden eyes looked up into yellow ones “Guess I’ll be feeding you now,” the older monkey said, bemusedly.

When the gibbon returned with a cloth full of different fruits, she looked unimpressed at the two monkeys as Macaque was grumbling and straining to keep the cub at arms length so as to stop him from reaching his ears. She huffed and they both looked at her with wide, startled eyes, the mango’s pulp somewhere between Macaque’s and the cub’s fur. She offered the fruits she had gathered in a cloth, the child squealing in delight at the peaches he could glance at, immediately forgetting about the ears again. 

Macaque did not have the privilege of forgetting his namesake and winced at the noise, releasing the cub to rub his pained ears. He barely had time to consider if maybe he could find another tree before he was being tugged again by the child, who offered him a couple of peaches. He muttered a thanks and settled, the cub deciding to snuggle on his fur for his meal, and he nibbled at the biggest peach, feeling awkward by being observed by the gibbon, who seemed content to nibble on mango. 

“So, your cub is energetic,” Macaque commented, still feeling the stickiness from the mango juices he had attempted to get the child to eat clumping parts of his fur. As if his fur wasn’t in need of a good cleaning before this. “Unusual to let them get close to strangers.”

“I’m too old for a cub. That’s Stone Monkey,” she added and he blinked. A name? For a cub? Stone Monkey? At his surprised look she nodded “Born from the FlowerFruit Mountain’s own stone egg.”

Macaque could only look down at the sleepy cub in surprise “Ah,” he uttered, and tentatively used his own magic to check what he could now guess from that story. He was careful to not manifest any actual shadows, even though the dim light would hide them, and he could feel that the little monkey’s aura wasn’t yaoguai or really any of the animals but other . 

A spiritual monkey. Like himself.

The old gibbon huffed and he turned his attention to her “He’s like you yes, Six-ear,”

We are the only ones around Six-Ears.

“That why you didn’t stop him from getting close?”

“Oh no, I only noticed after you picked him up, I thought he had been playing in the stream with the rest of the cubs,” she said, sighing in exasperation. With that, they moved onto other casual topics, Macaque kindly not mentioning the suspicious mutterings of the monkey yaoguai surrounding the area around him (getting worse ever since he had climbed the tree), just as she did not mention that she knew he knew about them. Allowing him to have the cub pressed against him was both a sign of trust and protection against more territorial beings after all.

-:::-:::-:::-

Macaque should have expected to be put into babysitting duty the next morning. The gibbon, introducing herself as a yaoguai who just preferred being alongside the still organized but wilder monkeys of this mountain, had asked him for the favor in return of helping mend his cape and getting more traveling supplies. 

“Mostly dried fruit,” she admitted when he asked what she could offer him “Maybe a few dried nuts with luck,” she then explained she asked because she had to deal with political stuff from the yaoguai side due to being one of the elders of one of the factions. With Stone Monkey’s attachment to him maybe he wouldn’t wander off into trouble. Or, hopefully, not as much trouble.

That it also assured his own safety against the more aggressive and suspicious yaoguai and monkeys during his stay was strongly implied in the conversation. Seemed the mountain wasn’t as peaceful as it looked and tensions were climbing between several factions, and a stranger around wasn’t going to help things. 

It annoyed him that she was treating him like he wasn’t fully capable of killing most, if not all, of the beings in this mountain, but he couldn’t deny being grateful for the chance of rest he was being offered with the job. 

Macaque agreed to be a babysitter for the day.

So he was dragged by Stone Monkey to a more isolated stream once the other realized what a mess his fur was, chirping he was going to help him groom. Unsurprisingly, the cub got distracted by a couple of other monkeys nearby, who gave curious looks to Macaque but didn’t approach him. Taking advantage of the alone time, he took out his travel pants and quickly washed the worst of the grime, wincing as a couple of still not healed wounds stung. The clothes and dark fur hid the worst of them but the largest ones in his right calf, from not managing to dodge a hunter fast enough, still ached and stung. Maybe he would have enough time to let the worst of them heal during his stay. At least neither opened yet.

The cub returned to his side soon with a couple of fruits in his hands, cooing happily, his fur wet and clean. A swift glance showed the other monkeys had dispersed and they were alone. He tried to hear around and, though the stream muffled some other noises, he should have been able to hear other monkeys nearby rustling the leaves and picking up fruit. Odd…

Soon, they were both drying their fur next to the water, Macaque wincing at the occasional pull at his fur as Stone Monkey groomed him to the best of his abilities, which were debatable however not surprising for his age.

Macaque heard a twig snap nearby and swiveled his head in that direction, alert. The cub stopped grooming at the movement and moved to his side, either in curiosity or recognizing the body language. 

Another snap. And a low growl from a predator on the other side of the stream.

Quickly, he picked the child up and moved, just in time to dodge the pounce from one of the biggest tigers he had seen. Cursing his inattentiveness, he secured the hold on his charge and ran up the stream, recognizing that dragging the tiger near the tribe would not be the best idea, not when he did not know if there were any fighters around or just the more vulnerable at this time of the day. 

His wounds smarted from his movements and he cursed again, realizing he couldn’t outrun the probably mystic infused tiger for long, not if he was carrying the child too while in the sun. The trees weren’t dense enough where he was for the shadows he needed so he took a chance and slipped deeper into the treeline, hoping to find a denser patch of shadows.

Instead, he found a cave.

‘Perfect.’

Macaque entered just enough to blend into the shadows and turned to the entrance, unsurprised to see the tiger prowling slowly in his direction. The cub didn’t huff in fear as he suspected most others would in his situation and he resisted the urge to check on him, though the older monkey did adjust the hold so he wasn’t gripping the cub as tight, still ready to immediately tighten the hold the moment the other tried to squirm out of his hold.

The older monkey had two choices: flight through the shadows or fight. Logically, flight would be the safer option, he had no real stakes to whatever would happen if he let the tiger roam so near the troupe’s nests. His pride was not that logical however, so he moved deeper into the shadows and waited. Stone Monkey seemed eerily still, though when the tiger was at the cave’s entrance ready to leap, he gripped the darker fur tighter and shoved his face on the other’s neck, not managing to stop his shivers.

The tiger didn’t have a chance.

Macaque melted in the shadow with his charge, as shadowy tendrils lashed at the tiger mid-leap, dragging the thrashing animal deeper. Both monkeys popped up at the entrance of the cave and the older one quickly stepped back into the sun, staring blankly as the shadows ripped the tiger apart. Belatedly, he realized the cub didn’t have his face hidden in his fur anymore and a quick glance confirmed Stone Monkey was staring wide eyed at the scene, ears folded down on his skull even as the agonized yowls tapered off.

The dark monkey walked farther from the cave, barely dodging a shadow trying to grip onto his leg. Both looked warily as the writhing mass of shadows seemed to expand before collapsing from the sun exposure into normal shadows, a torn apart carcass the only hint of what happened right at the entrance of the cave.

Maybe he needed more practice controlling the shadows before repeating the act.

A coo distracted him from the what ifs and the smaller mystical monkey adjusted himself into sitting at the older’s shoulder, a simple question that made him nod stiffly, recognizing that having shown his powers to the cub he wouldn’t have much of a chance to pretend to be harmless to the rest of the tribe if he did not collaborate.

Stone Monkey hummed before asking “Would you teach me?”

Macaque, who had been expecting something more along screeches or fearful silence after admitting he had been the one to summon the shadows, took a moment to think about the cub. More specifically, about the cub’s aura. “No,” he decided, and continued before the inevitable complaints, hoping he was saying it correctly in the monkey’s language “Your aura is too bright, like the sun. The shadows would devour you if you tried to do what I did.”

The child huffed and tugged at one of his ears, making Macaque hiss, but didn’t whine against the decision. For now. “We should go back,” the golden cub said, glancing at the sun’s position “Should we take the tiger?” even a child knew they could make materials out of the carcass, even if they did not eat the flesh.

Macaque looked at the scene and then felt with his magic, unsurprised to find it to be a trap with ravenous shadows ready to do an encore performance “Maybe it’s best to leave it be. For a few days.” a beat of silence and he corrected himself  “Weeks.” a tendril from deeper in the cave picked what was once a powerful and deadly paw and threw it at them. It plopped right in front of them with a bloody squelch “Better to make a sign of warning for the next year maybe.”

The child eeked in agreement, his grip on Macaque’s fur tightening as he looked rapidly between the cave and the paw.

Both monkeys kept their place for a few minutes before Macaque finally turned his back to his accidental semi-permanent death trap and walked back to the stream, the cub relaxing the farther away from the cave they were. Despite the opportunity, no more tugs on his ears were made, which worried Macaque a bit. Maybe the kid was actually scared of him…

The Six-eared Macaque changed course to the old gibbon’s tree, ignoring the burn of the calf injury. It was lunch time anyway.

-:::-:::-

The gibbon didn’t return to the tree or the nests around yet. The rest of the troupe didn’t seem surprised by it and Stone Monkey was still oddly quiet, choosing to not join the other cubs in playing but deciding to drag Macaque to other fruit trees, farther away from the nests. The older monkey wondered if it was to get him away from the troupe for their safety.

Eventually, they arrived at what seemed to be the younger one’s destination and he pointed at a specific tree. An old peach tree that blended suspiciously well in between the rest. The kid didn’t say anything at the older’s questioning glance and sat down under its shadow. When Macaque sat next to him, the cub tugged on his leg. His right leg specifically, that he then yanked up and prodded at the slightly opened wounds with enough strength to hurt. Macaque hissed and tugged his leg out of the others’ grasp, a growl ready on his throat when the cub whined in worry, looking at the blood on his finger.

Macaque frowned and then it clicked. He was bleeding. He was bleeding enough the child had noticed even with his pants covering his legs and he had been in the middle of an unknown troupe, without any safe member nearby. Any of the elements, including any yaoguai hidden, could have tried to take advantage of his wounds to attack and stir up the rest to do it too. Stone Monkey took him farther away for his safety, before any other could truly take notice of the perceived weakness.

A perceptive one, wasn’t he?

“I’m fine,” he assured the cub “I just need to stop a bit, let it start healing.” at the unconvinced look the other monkey gave him, he added, amused “I won’t move until you say I can.”

The choice of that peach tree made sense when Stone Monkey forced him to stay there, only allowing enough movement to move up to the lower branches when night fell. They feasted on the easily accessible fruit. When sleeping, he clung to him, refusing to let go so he could move around without him knowing. When Macaque woke up, it was to a smug golden monkey prodding the partially healed injuries. Far more than it was supposed to be.

Macaque gave a suspicious look at the cub who just looked even more smug, biting down on another peach.

-:::-:::-

The old gibbon wasn’t there the next day again, though his cloak was mended and folded on top of ‘her’ tree. With his calf no longer bleeding or  smarting as much, the cub happily dragged him to another stream, this one full of cubs and a few supervising adults, to whom he stiffly nodded when approaching. One of them, obviously a yaoguai from wearing a gray cloak, offered the place next to her for him to sit. He barely hesitated before accepting, the cub immediately running to his peers once he saw his babysitter going to the other adults.

The yaoguai made some small talk, carefully probing for information that he skillfully avoided giving. She seemed satisfied to know he was just a traveler that got babysitting duty for a couple of favors, even if he couldn’t say from which faction the yaoguai had asked the favor was.Macaque suspected she only saw a relatively normal teen yaoguai accidentally getting into something bigger than him.

Let her think that.

The weather took a turn to the worst, the sun disappearing as clouds ran in. The monkeys started to disperse as the wind started to pick up, the other yaoguai retiring with a couple other monkeys and a chirping cub. His own charge pouted as he was left alone in the stream, but the first rumble of thunder made him jump out of it and run to Macaque, hiding under his newly mended cloak.

Macaque hid his laugh, unsuccessfully if the annoyed kick at his leg was to go by.

Quickly they found an empty cave to hide in, just as the storm started to rage, thunder making the cub shudder. Macaque hummed, glamouring his ears in an attempt to muffle the sound from the thunder, and adjusted Stone Monkey so he was swaddled in the cloak. 

As time passed, seeing no sign of the storm lifting, both monkeys made themselves comfortable, the cub fighting to be freed from the cloak now that he got more used to the thunder. Macaque let him, seeing the cave wasn’t deep, deciding to enjoy his own corner while the kid explored.

The growing darkness as the day passed made him a bit nervous, remembering the accidental shadow trap he had created the previous day.

He hoped no monkeys tried to enter that cave.

As Macaque distractedly thought about his shadow powers, Stone Monkey poked around the cave, just seeing a bit of moss at the back and a few crawleys on the ground. No snakes, at least he thought so until he saw something moving nearby. As lightning flashed, the cub realized that it was too sinewy and shadowy to be a snake. Hesitating, he glanced at his babysitter. Seeing him deep in thought, the small monkey decided to poke the shadowy tendril with his tail.

The shadow stopped. Then poked him back.

Well, it was more entertaining than the rock or the lizard at the back so he decided to sit down near it and play with it.

And that was how Macaque found the cub after he realized he hadn’t been bothered for the last couple of hours. Playing with an out of control shadow.

Macaque didn’t think he was ever as fast as he was when he yanked the cub away from the shadow, trying to put the shadow back into its own dimension. For a tendril with no face, it managed to display how unimpressed it felt at his attempts remarkably well. “Well. Screw you,” he snarled to it, and got closer to the cave opening, their only source of light, dragging the struggling cub with him “And what were you doing ? Remember the tiger?” he growled to the cub, who froze, startled. Not letting the cub answer, he continued “Didn’t I tell you would be taken apart by them?” Stone Monkey just looked at him, behind him , trembling.

Macaque heard the whispers and cursed, letting the cub fall to the ground and taking a few steps back into the cave. He closed his eyes and focused, this time taking charge of the shadows that had popped around him and forcing them in . Only one resisted and he snarled, until he forced it to dissipate until he summoned it again. 

Calmer now, he opened his eyes and immediately locked onto the cub, whose eyes almost glowed as he warily stared at him. He was huddled near the entrance, tail gripping his leg in a self soothing gesture. Macaque sighed and stepped closer, stopping immediately when the cub hissed. He sat down instead “Stone Monkey?” he called lowly, making sure his voice was gentle. The cub didn’t say anything, but he could see him getting less tense “I’m sorry for scaring you.” he said, drooping his shoulders and making sure his body language was as sorrowful as he could make it “I was just worried.”

“... You were scary,” the cub said in the silence. “Shadows appeared behind you as you yelled,” there was a beat of hesitation before he continued “Those were not nice shadows.”

“I don’t think most shadows are nice,” Macaque remarked “But. It was an accident. None of them were supposed to be here,” my lack of control could have hurt us “I was just scared you could have been hurt. Like the tiger.”

Stone Monkey stopped huddling, his tail releasing his grip, even as he gave the older monkey a look as if the other was being stupid “You would have noticed if I was hurt like the tiger,”

And maybe he deserved that look “I panicked,” Macaque said sheepishly.

“I was playing with the shadow. I was being careful.” Macaque didn’t hide his doubtful expression “You would have got me! You were close!” the cub insisted and Macaque wasn’t sure whether to be flattered that the cub thought him as a protector or wary of the attachment. He was only here temporarily after all.

The younger monkey shuddered, just as the wind picked up. The temperature had dropped with the shadows, and the storm outside, though less severe now, made the cave humid and cold “Can I get closer? For warmth?” Macaque asked, and he could tell the cub was hesitant from the way his eyes looked behind the older monkey. After another gust of wind however, he acquiesced, immediately burrowing himself as much as he could in the black fur. Macaque adjusted the cloak to cover both of them better. 

They didn’t return to the nests that night either.

-:::-:::-

Macaque was fairly certain the gibbon would have thought he had kidnapped the cub at that point. Instead, when they got to the tree, a gray yaoguai gibbon, just old enough to be considered a very young adult, wearing light armor, was waiting for them. 

“Six ears,” the yaoguai greeted severely. Then he turned to the cub next to him and smiled “Stone Monkey.” The cub seemed startled by the smile, fur puffing, before remembering that a smile in yaoguai culture wasn’t a threat. He hid behind Macaque’s cloak instead. The monkey blinked, surprised by the action. He looked at Macaque, who shrugged and then gestured for him to state his business.

“I come with the promised supplies from the elder.” Macaque straightened, a chill in his spine. The yaoguai did have a cloth bag dangled in a branch near them, within easy access “Several packets of dried fruit and a container of plum wine.” his confusion must have been obvious as the other continued, with a brief, amused smile “For the days life is a headache.” the smile withered then, and the gray gibbon looked at the confused cub “I am afraid she could not come today… or ever again. Hunters got to her.” he softened “I am sorry, Stone Monkey.”

Macaque closed his eyes. The death of the gibbon elder meant Stone Monkey would either have to live by himself in the troupe or his adoption by one of the yaoguai ‘He’s going to be fine’ he tried to assure himself, already guessing by the presence of the other yaoguai that it was probably the second option ‘He’s not fragile’

Spiritual monkeys live by attachments. Remember that Six-eared Macaque. If we have no attachment to this world, we cease to live.

He tried to ignore the memory. 

The cub was disturbingly silent in his cries, but the shudders against his legs didn’t lie. Stone Monkey understood what had happened. Macaque scooped him in his arms, saying nothing but allowing the other to hide his face and cry on his neck. The other yaoguai looked with faint interest at the interaction.

The stress from the day before, along with the emotional shock from the gibbon’s passing was enough to tire the cub out fast. The yaoguai observed them and then nodded in understanding when Macaque made to give the sleeping cub to him.

Cradling the cub awkwardly, the yaoguai whispered “Are you leaving now?” Unsurprised by the stiff nod, he gestured with his head to the supplies, observing the darker monkey pick it up and then turn back, eyes locked on the cub, still sniffling even in his sleep “You may wait until he awakens again,” the yaoguai offered.

 Macaque considered it for a moment “It was always temporary,” he muttered “It would be worse to go when he can follow.” The other looked like he wanted to disagree but stayed silent. The cub sniffled in his sleep again and adjusted himself, but the awkward hold almost made him fall. The other yaoguai looked alarmed and Macaque rolled his eyes and carefully adjusted the hold, brushing his hand for the last time on the gold fur of the Stone born monkey’s head.

Many that are born like us become mortal as they grow, until a point where it was as if they were never spiritual monkeys at all. These are fools, Macaque, and you should never get attached to any who isn’t immortal already, for you will lose them .

Macaque walked away, under the heavy, curious stares of the troupe, saying nothing else to anyone in the mountain.