#I think I might change the trees to look more lush

[hellagator]

Incredibly messy wip with swamp girl

[rip-quizilla]

1405 Peach Tree Lane

Pairing: Older!Neighbor!Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: You like to watch your older, tatted shirtless neighbor now his lawn. He likes to watch you laying by your parents’ pool in those swimsuits that make his mouth water. Eventually, the inevitable happens when he invites you across the street for a drink.

Word Count: 8.2K

Tags: 🔥SMUT, modern au, age gap (Eddie 40s, Reader 20s), daddy kink, praise kink, degradation kink, slight breeding kink, spitting, light dom/sub, unprotected sex (reader has an iud), oral sex, p in v sex, shower sex, masturbation in a hot tub

(A/N: This is some of the filthiest shit I think I've ever written. You're welcome. Also I was very quick with the proofread, so if you see any spelling or grammar mistakes, no you don't.)

💜💜💜

Everyone in the posh gated community of Forest Hills knew about 1405 Peach Tree Lane.

The house was beautiful, as were all the houses in the upper-crust neighborhood- but the house wasn’t what people paid attention to.

Every housewife in the neighborhood knew that if they were lucky and timed their morning jog just right, they’d catch a glimpse of the toned, inked-up adonis who lived there while he shirtlessly mowed his lush green lawn. 

You might not have done much speaking with the housewives in your parents’ neighborhood, but you knew about 1405 Peach Tree Lane- you had a perfect view of its front lawn from your lounge chair by the pool in your parents’ backyard. Luckily for you, all that separated your backyard from 1405 was a short wrought iron fence and a narrow stretch of road.

You didn’t mind living with your parents during the summers you spent home from college; they gave you plenty of freedom and while they were at work during the day, you got to spend the afternoon lounging by the pool, reading a book and soaking up the sun.  

As well as soaking up the view of the way that same sunlight glinted off Mr. 1405’s sweaty, ink-riddled skin. 

You didn’t speak to him- what would you even say? “Hi, it’s nice to meet you, my favorite part of the day is guessing what your tattoos mean.”? Or maybe, “Hey there neighbor, mind if I count the freckles on your shoulders? It’s for science.”

Eventually, the inevitable happened- he caught you staring. 

He didn’t make it awkward, though. In fact, from the way he simply smiled and waved at you, you wondered if he thought your eyes meeting him had just been a coincidence, and you hadn’t been ogling him for the past thirty minutes and some change. You’d smiled back, thankful for your huge sunglasses that hid the way your eyes had widened under his attention, and waved in return. 

An even bigger surprise had been that he spoke to you this time. 

“That book any good?” 

His voice, heavy with labored breathing under the exhaustion from finishing up his lawn work, had caught you completely off guard. You’d laughed nervously, sticking your bookmark between the pages and pushing yourself up from your face-down position on the flattened lounge chair. 

“Oh! Ah-ha, uhm, yeah!” you shifted your weight back until you were sitting on spread knees and looking up at the source of the voice. On the other side of your parents’ fence stood Mr. 1405 Peach Tree Lane, sweaty and slightly sunburned on the tops of his shoulders. His curly brown hair had been piled into a messy knot atop his head, and you took note of the details that you hadn’t noticed from far away- a smattering of silver studs that decorated his ears, along with one on his nose. Five o’clock shadow that dusted his jawline. A more detailed view of his tattoos, some of which looked older than others but all of which looked very, very sexy on this man who had so much sex appeal already. 

The crinkling of his plastic water bottle as he squeezed about half of it into his mouth filled the silence between you. After a loud gulp he piped up again.

“What’s it about?”

Your brow wrinkled confusedly before you remembered that he had just asked you about your book. “Oh!” you replied dumbly, looking down at the book as if you had completely forgotten that books even existed- looking at him had taken up your entire mental capacity, apparently. “It’s, uh, it’s a memoir! It’s this cool old lady’s life story, she does not hold back, so the narration is pretty hilarious a lot of the time.”

The inked-up Greek god smiled and nodded, eyebrows raising in interest. “That does sound good.” he mused, and his voice took on a slyer tone when he added, “What’s your definition of old, like thirty-five?” He chuckled as if he’d just told a funny joke, but your smile had all but fallen from your face. 

“That’s not old,” you replied, not taking the joke, “This author was in her late seventies when she published this book, but even with that being said, this book is just told through such a youthful spirit- it’s easy to forget how old the author is when looking at her words.” You gripped the paperback a little tighter in your sweaty hands. “Plus, old people definitely don’t have the energy to mow their own lawns, and I have a feeling you’re not thirty-five.” 

That seemed to catch him off-guard. A surprised laugh escaped him, exploding from his lips before they formed an intrigued grin and his arms crossed over his tattooed chest. 

“Oh yeah? How old do I look, then?”

You grinned back, making a show of removing your sunglasses so that you could peer at him with greater focus. “Hmmmmmm…thirty-six?” 

Another laugh, this one heartier than the last. “You flatter me, sweetheart.” 

God, his voice is like brown sugar.

You tried again. “Forty, then.”

“Older.”

“No way.”

His grin became a smirk. “Are you patronizing me right now?”

You threw up a girl scout salute. “Scout’s honor, I would never.” 

He chuckled. “Well, girl scout, I’ll be forty-five next month.”

“I’ll be sure to warn my parents about the rager you’ll be throwing.”

He peered up at your house behind you, like he just now noticed its- and your parents’- existence. “Nah,” he said, “No ragers for me, that ship sailed when I was your age.”

You smiled sweetly, placing your sunglasses atop your head. “At least let me bake you a cake, then, wouldn’t be neighborly to let you have a boring birthday.”

“You’d bake a cake for ‘lil old me, sweetheart?” His tattooed hand splayed over his heart, sweaty and shining in the blaring afternoon sun.

You giggled. You could get used to Mr. 1405 calling you ‘sweetheart’. 

“Sure thing, just tell me what name to write in between ‘happy birthday’ and ‘forever young’.”

A flash of dazzling white teeth replied, “Eddie. Eddie Munson.” 

That was when you rose a step above the housewives of Forest Hills- to them, he was still Mr. 1405, but to you? He was Eddie Munson.

You entertained yourselves with little conversations here and there whenever Eddie worked out on his lawn. You, always in a swimsuit and him, never wearing a shirt. You would ask him about his tattoos- what they symbolized, which ones he’d drawn himself before they were replicated on his flesh. He would ask you about what you were reading- it was always changing. Sometimes nonfiction, sometimes romance, fantasy, lit fic… he seemed impressed by your insatiable reading habits. 

One day, however, he’d been particularly interested in a book whose cover bore a bare-chested  gentleman and particularly busty woman in a corset. 

“What’s today’s read, girl scout?” Eddie had greeted you with a nod toward the obviously risque reading material and a knowing smirk as he let his arms dangle over the black bars of your fence. 

You looked up, glowing from the sweat that’s gathered on your dewy summer skin and smiled tightly. “Oh, just a period romance. Ball gowns, forbidden love, the scandalous touching of hands without gloves on- things like that.”

“From the looks of that cover, I don’t think their hands are the only naked body parts touching in that story.” 

You laughed, glancing at the cover as Eddie waggled his eyebrows. “You’re probably right, but who knows? I’m only on the second chapter. I’ll keep you posted though.” you punctuated that last part with a wink. 

“Oh please do, princess,” Eddie said with a wolfish grin. “I love a good smutty romance novel.” 

You gawked. “No way you read this shit, you’re bluffing.”

Eddie raised a hand as if swearing on a bible. “Scout’s honor.” he said, mimicking your swear from the day you’d met. 

You shook your head, smiling ear to ear. “You must be the first man I’ve met who openly admits to reading smut, and I respect that.”

Eddie shrugged. “Easiest way to know what women want- they’re literally writing me an instruction manual. It’d be stupid not to read them.”

You bit your bottom lip before you could stop yourself, making a mental note of that little tidbit of information. “And you enjoy them?”

“It’s porn, sweetheart,” he said, gazing at you incredulously. “Who wouldn’t enjoy it?”

“It’s porn with a plot.”

“I’m a sucker for a good plot, especially if the plot involves sucking.”

You barked out a laugh. “And one could also argue that it’s more emotional porn than physical.”

“Are you insinuating that I don’t have a heart? Because I’ve got one, princess, and it bleeds, it yearns-”

Eddie pantomimed grasping at his own heart in his chest, putting on a fucking one-man show as he hung onto the fence for dear life as if his heart were truly bleeding out. You laughed- that was something that seemed to happen more when Eddie was around- you laughed more than usual, so much that you found your cheeks aching whenever he walked away. 

This time, something else ached as you watched him return to his lawn. As you continued to read, you were acutely aware of the heat between your thighs, the wetness that accumulated as you pictured corseted girls and muscled viscounts making eyes at each other across a sea of dancing courtiers. You imagined yourself, cornered in a rich rose garden bathed in moonlight, struggling to stifle your moans as a man in a tailcoat left a mark on your neck. You felt his hand hiking up your layers of petticoats until it reached your thigh, the only thing separating skin from skin being the white fabric of his gloves. You pictured his eyes, brown and bottomless as he moaned at the feeling of your hands tangled and tugging on his soft brown curls-

Uh oh. 

You took a deep breath, bookmarked your page, and slipped into the cold water of the pool. You sincerely hoped that Eddie hadn’t been serious about an update on the smut in your novel; you didn’t exactly want to let slip that at some point, you’d stopped picturing the viscount and started picturing him. 

But would he mind? Would he be upset to know that you’d pictured his hands on you, his lips on your pulse, your fingers in his hair? 

You weren’t sure he would. 

In fact, you had a feeling he might actually picture you in situations that weren’t too different. After all, you weren’t blind- you’d noticed the way his eyes would flit down from your face when the two of you were talking. He didn’t seem to put much effort into hiding his once-overs, his raking gaze that seemed more than pleased by the way your swimsuits hugged your curves, pulled your cleavage together, cut higher on your hip than your shorts ever would. Whenever you pulled yourself up from lying on your stomach, you’d seen how his eyes followed your ass hungrily as it left his line of sight. 

That was the moment that you realized- Eddie Munson, more than likely, wanted to fuck you. 

And you definitely wanted to fuck him. 

So the next time he came over to see you after mowing his lawn, you offered him a beer. 

“I’m already halfway through mine,” you said, leaning back to give him a full view of the way the sweat on your breasts shone in the hot sun. “don’t make me day drink alone.”

A salacious grin curled on his plush pink lips. “I could be tempted,” Eddie peered at the cooler beside you. “What are you drinking, sweetheart?”

You opened the cooler so that he could see the six pack of light lagers in shiny green bottles. Eddie wrinkled his nose distastefully. “Alright, young padawan,” he sighed, unlatching the gate to your backyard. “It’s time you learned your first lesson from Master Munson.” He didn’t enter the backyard, simply opened the gate and waited for you to join him outside your parents’ property. 

You quirked an eyebrow; this was new territory. That wrought iron fence had always served as a sort of barrier between the two of you, never occupying the same space and keeping each other at arm’s length- flirty banter, but with boundaries. 

Now, you smiled shrewdly as you slipped on your flip flops and crossed the threshold into Eddie’s space, following him across the narrow street to his driveway.

“Oh so I’m your student now, Master?” you quipped, launching him into a dark chuckle and a shake of his curls. 

“Christ,” he cursed under his breath low enough that he probably thought you hadn’t heard- but you did. “Well, your college friends are obviously shitty teachers if your drink of choice is a basic ass bottle you can grab at the goddamn gas station.” 

You scoffed, “Oh, what- are you trying to say you’re one of those pretentious beer snobs who only drinks micro-brewed IPA’s named after bad puns?”

Eddie laughed out loud, smiling ear to ear at you over his shoulder. “Oh that’s exactly what I am, princess!” The harsh sunlight finally relented as the two of you crossed into Eddie’s garage, and you followed him in a beeline to the old refrigerator in the corner opposite from his impressive-looking toolbench. 

You nearly moaned with relief when the cool air from the fridge hit you as Eddie opened the door and grabbed a couple of unmarked silver cans from the middle shelf. You eyed them cautiously, which Eddie saw and snorted at when he saw your expression. “Not poisoning you, sweetheart, no need to worry.” He opened a door beside the fridge that you guessed- judging by what you could see past the doorway- led to his kitchen. “A friend of mine is a home-brewer, he gives these to me and the guys for free. Way better than any cookie-cutter shit you’ll find at a college party.” He held the door open for you, nodding his head toward the doorway. “You coming inside? It’s hot as hell out here.”

You hadn’t expected him to invite you into his home; it occurred to you suddenly that you were still only wearing your swimsuit. Smiling shyly, you stepped through the doorway, the chill of the air conditioning rolling goosebumps over your damp skin. Eddie stepped into the kitchen and immediately began opening the cans, handing one to you. 

You eyed the can cautiously, raising an eyebrow at him. “Do I want to know what I’m about to drink?’ 

He smiled mischievously, inclining his head toward you as he held his can aloft. “First lesson, padawan- trust your master.” He tilted the can in your direction, to which you sighed and tapped your can to his. 

Your eyes widened in surprise when the cold, bubbly liquid hit your lips. It wasn’t anything like you were expecting- instead of the tepid wheaty taste that you were used to. At first the drink was tart, but after a second it faded into a fruity dryness that reminded you of white wine. Its  flavor was so light that you couldn’t even tell you were drinking beer.

“This is beer?” 

Eddie chuckled. “Technically it’s a sour, but yes- it’s a type of beer. Dustin said it was a champagne sour, so if you like wine then hopefully this’d be up your alley.” 

You smiled as you took your second sip. “I do like wine.” you murmured, testing the flavors on your tongue. “Like this, too. Your friend ever think about selling what he brews?”

“Dustin?” Eddie asked, laughing as if the question were something funny. “Oh I have no doubt he’ll try to sell it one day, but he’s not going to even think about it until he knows he’s perfected his recipe.”

As you took another sip of the cold drink, you felt another wave of goosebumps run through you. Coincidentally, this was the moment that Eddie fell perfectly silent. You peered over your can- his eyes were fixed on your chest. You became acutely aware that the goosebumps had resulted in your nipples growing so hard, you thought if something-anything- were to accidentally brush against them, you might moan from the sensitivity. 

Stifling a smirk, you shivered and hugged your upper arms. “Brrrrr it’s cold in here!” you said coyly, “I guess my body temperature got a little too used to the heat.” 

Eddie’s chest heaved slightly at the way your tits bounced and squeezed together when you shivered. He cleared his throat, looking down at the beer can in his hand for a moment. “I’ve got a hot tub, you know,” He spoke up, peering at you to gauge your reaction. “Downstairs. You’re welcome to it.”

You took another sip. “Only if you join me.”

His dark eyes snapped up to yours, lips curling up at one corner. “Yes ma’am.” he said, his voice lowered an octave and a bit huskier than before. You held his eye contact, mirroring his lopsided grin with a charged, heavy-lidded gaze. 

Eddie led you to a staircase down the hall and said he’d be right back with a towel for you after he changed into swim trunks. 

“Aw, no speedo?” you smirked. Eddie appeared unphased. “Mental note,” he murmured to himself, “the princess is eager to see my thighs.”

You giggled, “There might be more tattoos there I haven’t seen yet,” you countered, “How am I supposed to keep figuring you out if I don’t know the meaning of each and every one?” 

Eddie placed his forearm above your head on the wall, leaning into it until he was close enough for you to feel his breath on your hairline. “You know, you seem to spend a lot of time staring at my body, kid-” You bristled at his blatant omission of the nicknames you liked. “-I’m starting to feel objectified.” 

You forced the smile from your face, looking up at him defiantly. “I could say the same thing about you, Mr. Munson,” you replied, “-and I’m not a ‘kid’.”

His position didn’t change as his eyes raked over your nearly naked body, drifting from your eyes to your lips and catching on your cleavage. “Don’t I know it, sweetheart.” he whispered, before pushing off the wall. “Hot tub’s already heated, just push off the cover and hit the green button. I’ll be down in a sec.”

And then he was walking down the hall to what you could only assume was his bedroom. For a moment, you thought about following him… but if you were honest with yourself, you were actually pretty curious about this hot tub. So down the stairs you went, carrying a silver can of sour in each hand.

Eddie’s basement was cozy, but he had utilized the space to its full potential. The majority had been filled with workout equipment to create a home gym, the walls lined with floor to ceiling mirrors that created the illusion of a larger space than it actually was. Sitting on stylish wooden slats was the hot tub, topped with a brown leather cover. To the right of the hot tub was a door with a small window that was just at your eye level. Upon closer inspection… yep, that was a sauna. Eddie had a sauna. 

Shaking your head in disbelief, you made a mental note to ask Eddie what he did for a living- as far as you could tell, he was the only one who lived here. How did a single guy in his forties have so much money to burn? 

Placing yours and Eddie’s drinks down on a nearby surface, you removed the cover from the hot tub and pressed the green button as Eddie had instructed, and settled into the hot, bubbling water. God, it was relaxing. Just then, you heard footsteps descending the stairs.

Eddie appeared, his hair let down from his normal messy bun so that it fell in dark chocolate curls that cascaded over his shoulders. His swim trunks, simple and black with little white skulls lining the cuffs above his knees, hugged his thighs in a way that made you salivate. Tattoos you'd become all too familiar with danced across his skin, and you suddenly felt the need to taste them.  

Eddie smirked when he saw you getting an eyeful without even trying to hide it. “How’s the water?”

You hummed, relaxing further into jets against your back. “Sooooooo nice.” You sighed. 

Eddie climbed into the hot tub to join you, making you squeal as he practically fell into the water, splashing you as he submerged his head just enough to wet his hair and shake it out like a golden retriever.

You giggled, doing your best to ensure that your hair wasn’t wet enough to make you look like a wet rat. “I’m starting to think you’re a teenage boy trapped in the body of a middle-aged man.” 

Eddie narrowed his eyes at you, tattooed arms stretching out over the edges of the tub as he relaxed into the seat across from you. “Hey now,” he said, voice laced with warning. “Careful with the term middle-aged there, kiddo.”

You matched his gaze, challenging. “Kiddo?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Eddie’s gaze was heavy, cocky as he looked down his nose at you. “Practically a baby.”

You grinned. “That one, I don’t mind.”

Eddie’s smile grew in tandem. “Oh, she likes to be ‘baby’, but not ‘kiddo’, huh?”

You leaned back into the water, looking up at the ceiling with a smug smile on your lips. “That’s right, grandpa.”

Suddenly, you felt a tug on your ankle and you were underwater. You emerged, spitting chlorine out of your mouth, struggling to force it from your nose as Eddie’s cackling rang in your ears. You gasped, sputtering in shock as you tried to catch your breath. 

“You are a child!” you squealed as he tugged your ankle again- you hadn’t noticed his hold still grasping tightly- not forceful enough to bring you back under the surface but enough to remind you that he could.

“So not a grandpa, then?” Eddie teased, stroking the curve of your ankle with his thumb. 

You gritted your teeth together, strategizing. “No, that would be too kind. You’ve got the maturity of a teenager. Luckily for me-” 

Using Eddie’s grip on your ankle as leverage, you forcefully pulled yourself forward by your leg and launched yourself right into his lap, bending your knees so that a second later, you were straddling him. 

You watched triumphantly as Eddie’s eyes widened, looking up at you with breath that hitched in his throat as you finished your sentence. 

“-I know how boys like you think.”

The humor between the two of you dissipated in that instant, Eddie’s eyes blown wide and dark as he watched the way the water in your hair dripped down your neck and between your breasts, which were now inches from his face. If he leaned forward, he could catch that bead of water with his tongue. If he reached up, he could hold your tits in his hands, test their weight. Press them up, squish them together, squeeze…

You felt him growing hard beneath you, and smirked triumphantly. “See?” You said smugly, grinding against him teasingly. “Right on schedule.”

Eddie chuckled, his breathing strained as he shook his head exasperatedly. “Got me all figured out, do you princess?” 

You nodded, finding your rhythm as you continued to grind against his hardening cock through his swim trunks. “I think I’m starting to.”

You shivered despite the warmth as Eddie trailed his hand from your ankle up your leg, your hip, your waist…finally resting at the apex of your sternum to splay across your neck. You hadn’t been expecting that- you faltered, breath hitching as he tested out a gentle squeeze and hummed to himself.

“Mmmmm…” He looked you over with passive attention, taking account of the way your eyes widened and your pulse quickened under his thumb. “...you know, I’m starting to figure you out too.” His other hand cupped your hip, pulling you to sit directly on his erection and holding you in place so you couldn’t grind. “You’re used to getting away with shit you know you shouldn’t do, isn’t that right, baby?” You sighed softly in response, pinned into place by his lust-blown eyes. You balanced on a precipice- on one side, obedience, which you knew would satisfy him. On the other, eventual obedience with a little bit more fight; more of a gamble, but you were willing to bet that he would enjoy that best.

“You really thought you could eye-fuck me every damn afternoon,” Eddie said, his hand on your neck moving lower to fondle one of your breasts over your swimsuit. “-and there wouldn’t be consequences?”

You breathed heavily, chest rising and falling under his hand. “I mean…” you drawled, still smiling smugly despite his authoritative tone of voice. “...I was kinda hoping for consequences.” you brought both hands out of the water, gesturing vaguely to the room around you. “I’m here, aren’t I?” 

A second passed before Eddie’s hands suddenly grabbed both of your wrists, forcing them behind your back. You gasped, cheeks hot from the water and the position you were in, straddling his lap with both shoulders shoved back to force your breasts front and center. He saw the look in your eyes and leaned forward, lips brushing the shell of your ear. 

“I can get rough sometimes, baby.” he said, voice low and husky. “Tell me it’s too much at any point and I’ll stop, okay?” You nodded, a shy little mm-hm escaping your bitten lips. Eddie crossed your wrists over each other, holding them behind your back with one hand as his newly free one reached up to caress your cheek. 

“Fucking Christ, you’re cute.” he mumbled. “Cute little baby, all alone in her parents’ big house all day, so bored she had to go and be a slut for the neighbor. That right, baby?”

Your eyes were wide and wet, mouth opened in a slight pout as you ground your freed hips on his hard cock once again, whimpering needily. You nodded your head up and down, eager to hear more filthy words tumble from his lips. 

Eddie wasn’t satisfied with that. A hand came up to grasp your hair at the base of your neck, tugging on it firmly but not painfully to force your head to nod up and down emphatically. “Use your words, baby, say ‘yes, daddy, I was a slut.’”

You gasped, surprised. You’d never called anyone daddy besides your actual father, and you’d certainly never called anyone that in the bedroom- or a hot tub, for that matter. However, his brazen demand that you call him that while you straddled him like this sent rolling waves of pleasure straight to the apex of your thighs. 

“Y-yes… daddy…” You struggled against your instinct to be embarrassed, arching your back against your restrained hands and looking down shyly at your cleavage. “...I was a slut.”

“Look at me.”

Your eyes flicked up to his, wide and obedient. He was smiling at you, beaming with pride and adoration. His hand slid from your hair to the back of your neck, pulling your face to his. “Good girl, baby.” he praised, “I’m gonna kiss you, is that okay?”

You nodded eagerly. “Yes, please!”

That earned you a chuckle. “So polite, baby girl, good job.” 

Eddie’s lips felt like the most comforting thing that a person could feel on their skin. His kiss felt like fresh sheets still warm from the dryer. His tongue was like a strawberry that was perfectly ripe, sweet and wet and a rush of relief. He explored you, he learned you, his lips devoured all they could reach and whenever they couldn’t reach, his tongue took over to fill in the blanks. 

As you whimpered and squirmed in his lap, Eddie cooed, “What’s the matter, baby, something wrong with your legs?”

You shook your head, moaning into his mouth. “I need something on my clit, Eddie.”

“Something? You’ll just take anything on that clit baby? Is that what you're saying?”

You panted, straining against his rock hard dick for some kind of friction. He was right, you would take anything. “Yes, please touch me, Eddie.”

He made no move to do so, only looking at you pointedly with his eyebrows raised. When you realized your mistake, you corrected, “Please touch me, daddy.”

He smiled smugly, a cat watching a mouse. “Good girl,” he praised, “but I’m not sure you’ve earned that.” 

Your face fell, eyes going wide as your lips formed a full-on pout. “But-” you began to stutter, but Eddie wasn’t finished. 

He let go of you, pushing you gently off you and guiding you under the water to one of the seats in the corner of the tub. The jets coming off it were strong, nearly too much on your back as you turned to sit, but Eddie stopped you before you could settle into the seat. 

“Princess, I want you to keep your knees open and ride your pussy on that jet stream until you cum.” 

Your jaw dropped open. Whipping your chin over your shoulder to look at him in his seat opposite you, you stared and waited for him to specify or maybe apologize for misspeaking- there’s no way you heard him right. But then he repeated himself, and you realized that yes, you had. 

“Press your pussy up against that jet stream under the water, and make yourself cum. Don’t use your hands. Don’t rush. I want you to fall apart in my hot tub, and I’m going to stroke my dick while I watch you do it. That okay, sweetheart?”

You were learning a lot of new information about your neighbor today. 

You smiled devilishly over your shoulder at him, taking in the sight of him lounging in the opposite corner of the tub as he took in the sight of you. “You’re a kinky motherfucker, aren’t you?” 

Eddie reached across the tub and wound an arm around your waist, pulling you in for a quick but heated kiss. “Yeah, I am.” he murmured into your lips before pushing you back toward the jets. “Now make yourself cum, I want you tight.”

He laughed at the pathetic little whimper that you let slip involuntarily as you situated yourself against the jet stream. You balanced your weight on your knees, spreading your legs enough to open your pussy further inside your swimsuit. Once the pulsing stream of water made contact with your clit, your automatic impulse was to flinch away; the stream was strong, almost too strong. However, with a little shifting and repositioning, you eventually found an angle that pulled a moan from your mouth that sounded almost pornographic.

“That’s it, baby girl,” you heard Eddie’s rough voice behind you, and you couldn’t help but sneak a peak over your shoulder at him. Eddie sat with legs spread open and one arm slung over the lip of the tub, his other hand palming the erection you knew was only growing harder over his swim trunks. This told you he was a patient man, a man who liked to be teased a little before taking what he wanted. A man who liked to play with his food before he ate it. 

You could play, too.

You pulled your eyebrows together, pouting your lips the way you’d seen him react to earlier. “Am I doing it right for you, daddy?” You moved your hips up and down against the jet, putting on a little show for him.

Eddie raised a brow, amused. “I don’t think I can answer that question for you, sweetheart.” he said, sighing heavily with pleasure as he tilted his head this way and that to take you in from every angle. “Don’t worry about me, baby, just make yourself feel good.” 

You smiled shyly, nodding in response and turning your attention back to the jets. You maneuvered your hips against them, grinding on the strong jetstream as it hit your clit at angles that you didn’t even know existed. You lost yourself in the sensation, letting your eyes fall closed and humming little sounds to yourself as your heart rate picked up, that familiar pleasure bubbling up in your lower belly  as your movements grew faster and more desperate. 

Eager to see if Eddie was enjoying himself as much as you were, you glanced over your shoulder to look at him. What you saw was breathtaking- Eddie, his wet curls clinging to his dewy skin, muscles flexing under his tattoos as he fisted his cock underwater. You couldn’t see it clearly due to the raging bubbles, but the flesh-colored underwater blur was enough for you to know exactly what he was doing. You had known he would jack off to you- he’d outright told you he planned to- but seeing it was enough to turn you on so much that it became the thing that pushed you over the edge.

“Daddy, I’m cumming!” 

You moaned, mouth hanging open as you rode out your orgasm against the harsh stream of the jets, overwhelmed and overstimulated by the physical feeling and the intense eye contact that you held with Eddie the entire time as your body gyrated and spasmed. He watched you with hungry eyes, lapping up the scene in its entirety and committing every second to memory. 

“Good girl, good fucking girl, keep fucking that jet, baby.”

You whimpered, hips jerking away from the stream as it hit your clit at an angle that was a little too intense, and your limp, still-needy body floated over to Eddie. He chuckled, still stroking his cock lightly in the warm water. “Aw, I’m sorry baby, was that too much?”

You shook your head, still eager for him- he’d barely even touched you, and yet you were so desperate for this man. “No, I can take more.”

His eyes had a darkness to them that made your breath hitch. “How much can you take, sweetheart?” 

You moved to straddle your knees on either side of one of his thighs, not close enough to grind against his cock, but certainly in a perfect position to rub your pussy along his leg, teasing him. “I’ll take whatever you wanna give me, daddy.”

A low groan sounded from deep in Eddie’s chest. “You might regret saying that one, babe.”

You couldn’t resist matching his warning with a challenge. “Bring it on.” you said sweetly, and it incited a little chuckle in him. He reached back and pressed a button on the hot tub, causing all of the bubbles to stop. 

“Get out, dry off.” he said, nodding to the neatly folded towels he’d placed beside the hot tub. “You look like you could use a shower.”

You stayed put, confused. “You… but…”

He cut you off, cupping his wet hands against your face. You could feel the pads of his fingers on your cheeks, wrinkled from prolonged time under the water’s surface. “Sorry, sweetheart, I forgot you don’t like following instructions unless you know you’re getting something out of it.” You scoffed at his condescending tone, but all he did was smile. “What I meant to say was- get out. Dry off. I’m going to fuck you in my shower. Mmkay?”

Your eyes widened, excited by his words and elated by a strange submissive, post-orgasmic euphoria. “Okay.” you replied, but when you saw his testy look in response you quickly amended, “Okay daddy.”

“Good girl.”

The two of you dried off before heading back upstairs. Eddie let you down the hall to his bedroom, which you were sure was filled with so many interesting mementos on the walls that you were sure it would take you hours to study all of it. The first thing to catch your eye was the golden record, framed and mounted beside his dresser. When Eddie saw you looking at it, he supplied an answer without waiting for you to ask. 

“Ever heard of a band called Corroded Coffin?”

You searched your brain but came up empty. “No, I don’t think I have.”

Eddie chuckled to himself, like you’d just participated in a joke you weren’t in on. “Most people haven’t. But I bet you’ve heard the song Upside Down on the radio, yeah?” He hummed a couple bars of the chorus, which you recognized instantly. 

“Oh yeah! I love that song!”

Eddie grinned. “‘Preciate it, babe.”

Shocked, you glanced up at the record and back to him. “Wait, you wrote that song?”

He shrugged as if to brush it off, but you could tell he was proud. “It was a group effort, my band and I wrote and recorded it together. After that, though, when the offers for record deals and tours and shit started pouring in, it became clear to most of the band members that this wasn’t what they wanted to do for the rest of their lives- band broke up on good terms, we just had some differences when it came to future plans.” He reached up and stroked the frame affectionately with his thumb. “But one-hit-wonder money was still enough to get my name out there, make some smart investments. I’m a music producer now.”

So that’s how he made all this money. The big empty house made sense now. “That’s pretty cool, actually.” you said, smiling at Eddie. You relished the sensation of his hands as they slid around your waist. 

“You wanna see something even cooler?” 

Before you could answer, Eddie was scooping you up into his arms and tossing you over his shoulder. You squealed, laughing as his palm hit your ass cheek with a loud smack! He carried you into his bathroom, placing you on his vanity counter before kissing the laughing smile right off your face. You felt his hands as they worked your bathing suit off you, freeing your breasts from the confines of the damp fabric. Eddie wasted no time, pulling one of your tits into his hand and encircling your nipple with his mouth, sucking sensually. You moaned, hands fisting into his hair. He only left your skin to turn around and turn on the shower, giving the water a chance to heat up. 

Once the bathroom had sufficiently filled with steam, Eddie picked you up from the counter, pulling your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. You kissed him greedily, wetly, and hungrily as he walked the two of you into his spacious tiled shower, which was larger than your dorm room closet back at school. 

You relaxed your legs around him in a silent ask for Eddie to put you down, which he obliged. The moment your feet hit the wet tiled floor, you began to sink to your knees until…

You snorted. 

“Why do you still have your swim trunks on?” 

Eddie had taken the time to take off your bathing suit, but you hadn’t even realized that even after carrying you into the shower, he hadn’t even taken a second to undress himself. 

He looked down, noticing this for the first time, same as you. “I, uh… I don’t know. I was-” he flashed you a smirk that was equal parts embarrassed and sexy. “-preoccupied, I guess.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you knelt before him, now eye-level with the drawstring of his swim trunks. “Well let me fix that, then.” you said softly, working your delicate fingers into the waistband and pulling his trunks down until they hit the floor. 

God. He was a sight to behold. And you were right, he did have thigh tattoos. They were large, twisting images of hellish creatures, undoubtedly older but still in good shape since- judging by the paleness of the skin they decorated- they probably never saw the light of day. 

You reached up, lightly tracing them as you turned your gaze to his cock. It was at full mast, eager and waiting for your mouth to encircle it and, hopefully, make Eddie moan your name. 

Which he did. 

The way your lips covered the head of his cock, the way your tongue generously licked the shaft under, over, around, the way your hands were warm and welcoming as they lightly played with his balls- all of it made him moan, gasp, groan your name. He called you baby, called you princess, moaned and pulled your hair as he fucked your mouth, and you just about burst into flames when he shoved his cock so far down your throat that you swallowed on it accidentally, pulling a growled “Goddamnit, sweetheart, fuck-” from his lips. 

When he pulled you off his dick by your hair, his eyes were humorless and hungry. He crouched down, leveling your eyes under the hot water from the showerhead. 

“Are you on birth control, sweet girl?” he asked. 

You nodded, “I have an IUD.”

He kissed your forehead firmly, one hand still fisted in your hair. “Good girl,” he murmured. “Now I can grab a condom, they’re right over there in the cabinet under my sink.” he continued, nodding vaguely in the sink’s direction. “But baby, I have been fantasizing about the way your pussy’s gonna feel for a long ass time and I hate to ask you this, and you’re allowed to say no, but-”

“Fuck me raw Eddie.” You wanted it. You needed it. You needed him. “I fantasize about it too. I think about it every day, I touch myself to you before going to sleep and wake up wishing your cock was the thing waking me up. When I’m lying by the pool reading those stupid smutty novels and some lord is fucking a lady in waiting up against a wall, I can’t focus on it! I can’t because I want it to be you and I want to feel your cock inside me, and I want it to be your cum that drips down my thighs and your lips on my-”

He cut you off there, splaying his free hand on your neck and kissing you until you were laid horizontally on the hot, wet floor. He climbed on top of you, and in a moment your mouth fell open at the sensation of his hard cock splitting you open from the inside. He didn’t spend a moment waiting for you to adjust to his size or murmuring praises into your ear- he knew you wanted all of him, and you knew he wanted all of you, and that was all you needed. You moaned, you practically screamed, and above all you clutched him for dear life.

“Dirty girl,” Eddie growled into your ear, thrusting into you deep and hard. “Dirty books, dirty mind-” 

He leaned back so that his face was directly above yours and grabbed your cheeks, squeezing to force your mouth open. Your lips parted, and Eddie spat harshly into your mouth before shoving your mouth closed around it. His eyes were feral, wild with lust and dominance. “Swallow.” he commanded, you obeyed in an instant. He felt your throat moving against his hand and smiled deviously. “Dirty mouth, too.”

He picked up his pace, spearing into you at a pace so relentless that you couldn’t even keep track of the noises coming out of your mouth- an incoherent stream of sounds and swear that would have made a sailor blush. He matched your dirty noises with his own, all the while dicking you down into his shower floor as your brain went haywire at the lewd noises of skin slapping against skin that echoed through the bathroom. 

“God, this pussy is so fucking tight,” Eddie groaned, “good girl, cumming so hard for daddy back there. You gonna cum on my cock this time?”

You moaned, “Need something on my clit, daddy.” 

Eddie pecked your lips with his own, and the way it made your heart skip a beat was like a reward. “Good girl, always tell me what you need, okay?”

You nodded, smiling giddily from the sudden subby euphoria. “Okay, daddy.” You made a mental note that kissing Eddie Munson while his cock was inside you gave you your new favorite kind of high.

Eddie reached down and began drawing small, soft circles with his fingertip on your clit. The richly gentle sensation was decadent, pulling deeper, louder moans from you as Eddie continued to fuck you. “Oh I feel you getting tighter, baby girl, that feel good?”

“Yes!” you practically yelled it. 

“Yes what?” He taunted.

“Yes daddy!” you cried, arching your back against the tile. He was fucking you ruthlessly, ravaging you mentally, and the way his dirty words melted into you made your brain go so hazy that you weren’t sure if your vision was clouding or if it was just the steam in the air. 

Your release was growing closer, that heat in your core coiling tighter and tighter, ready to burst with pleasure. “I’m gonna cum soon, daddy.” you whined. 

Eddie’s dick hit you in that perfect spot inside over and over, and you leaned your face against his hand as he cupped your cheek affectionately. “Yeah? You gonna make a mess all over daddy’s dick?” You pouted, nodding ‘yes’ in response. Eddie smiled at the way you could be so cute and so filthy at the same time- he fucking loved it. “That’s probably gonna make me cum, sweetheart, you want that? That pussy’s gonna grip my cock so tight that it fills you with cum, huh?”

You were whimpering and pouting and letting the sluttiest little sobs fall from you now. “Yes, daddy, fill me with cum, please!”

“You want me to fill you with cum? Fuck all that cum inside you?”

“Yes!”

“Yes what, sweetheart, gotta tell me whose dick you’re cumming on-”

“Daddy!” you cried, “Daddy’s dick, I’m cumming on daddy’s dick!”

“Fuuuck, yes, cum on daddy’s dick you little slut-”

Eddie’s filthy words tumbled from his lips as your pussy pulsed around him, fluttering walls squeezing him tight from the aching pleasure that shot through you. His cum filled you, and the size of his load reflected just how long it had been since he’d cum into anything that wasn’t his own hand. When he finally pulled out, a stream of both your releases oozed out of your hole and onto the floor. Eddie stared at it, fascinated, and he silently used his finger to catch the milky liquid and push it back into your hole. You whimpered, overly sensitive and puffy, your pussy lips inflamed and screaming, but Eddie was gentle as he sheathed his finger completely inside you, ensuring that his seed stayed exactly where he’d put it in the first place.

He pulled you up to a sitting position, smiling gently. “Hi.” he whispered, placing a soft kiss on your temple. 

“Hi.” you giggled, a giant smile stretching out across your face, blissed-out and more than satisfied. 

Eddie stroked your wet hair out of your face, gazing down at you adoringly. “I’m sorry if that was a little… much,” he winced. “I may have gotten carried away, usually I would talk to you to see if that kind of stuff would be okay, but I was just so fired up-”

“Eddie,” you interrupted softly. “I loved it.”

He grinned, grateful and relieved. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

Eddie pulled you against him, your body fitting itself nicely against his naked chest as water poured over the two of you from above while you sat holding each other on the floor of his shower. He sighed, completely and utterly content. “Yeah.”

***

The rest of the summer days in your parents’ neighborhood went like this: 

Wake up imagining what you and Eddie would do today. Touch yourself when necessary.

Do whatever chores needed doing around the house, sometimes making batches of lemonade for Eddie when you knew he would be working on his lawn that day. 

Lounge by your pool and read a book- this part hadn’t changed. 

Spend the rest of the afternoon at Eddie’s. These afternoons usually consisted of activities like discussing the whatever book you were reading, drinking whatever strange new beer Dustin had come up with, and fucking each other’s brains out. 

The next month, Eddie celebrated his birthday. He didn’t throw a rager (true to his word) but he did have a little get-together. To your surprise, he invited you. 

You got to meet his friends, their kids, their dogs- and see the way Eddie smiled for hours without reprieve when they were around. This whole summer, you’d been figuring this man out bit by bit, but it wasn’t until that night that you truly felt like you knew him. 

You baked him a cake, as promised. Three layers of funfetti sponge, vanilla frosting and decorated with oreo crumbs and rainbow letters that spelled out “Happy birthday, Eddie, forever young”.

He wasn’t this way with the rest of the neighbors. To them, he would always be Mr. 1405 Peach Tree Lane, but with these people? With his friends? He was Eddie Munson. Now, you were included in that group of people who were allowed to know him, and how wonderful he really was. 

You felt so incredibly lucky that you were a part of that.

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

King To The Rescue- Thranduil x Modern!Reader

Summary: Reader accidentally hurts themselves when they trip over and Thranduil comes to save them

Word count: 1, 167

Walking through the forest of the woodland realm filled you with both joy and sadness. Parts of the forest were still lush and green, filled with life and happiness, but unfortunately most parts were taken over by a great poison, leaving the once beautiful lands to be dark and dangerous.

You weren’t sure why you were brought to Middle Earth, both Thranduil and Gandalf had their theories, but both you and Thranduil believe it might have to do with the poison taking over the lands. To better understand it, you decided to walk among it. Thranduil had agreed to let you do so, as long as you didn’t go too far and wander into the spiders.

He had spent over an hour drawing up different maps and explaining where you can and can’t go. Even though you were not of this world and not as wise as the race of elves, Thranduil still was very protective of you, so protective in fact that this was the first time he had let you venture here alone. Every other time you had walked these woods, it had been with either Legolas, Tauriel or 2 or more guards.

You suppose the reason for Thranduils care was because you were chosen to help heal his lands, and he wanted to keep you safe. It would be stupid to think it was any other reason, although you did sometimes fancy it could be.

Perhaps Thranduil wanted to take care of you for more reasons then just to help him. You try to ignore those ideas though. An elvish king having feelings for human of a different world just isn’t how things work, though it’s hard to ignore that it might be true.

Hard to ignore the way he looks at you when he thinks you can’t see, the way you’re able to make him laugh, the way he shuts down anyone who would try to talk poorly about you, mostly it was hard to ignore his touches. The way his hands felt on your hips when you first started learning to ride a horse, and he’d help you on and off. How his eyes seem to linger when brushing a piece of hair out of your face, or even the way he seemed to always offer his hand to help you stand or walk along uneven ground, even when you didn’t need it.

These thoughts of fancy seemed to cloud your head so blindingly, that you didn’t notice the change in terrain, or that there was a giant root coming out of the ground. Before you had time to catch yourself, you felt the earth thud against your chest and a throbbing pain in your ankle.

Gently twisting your body around, you assessed the damage of your ankle. Looking down you see it’s already starting to swell, but despite that, you try to walk on it. There was no patrol out at the moment and you were sure no one would hear you if you did call for help.

With the assistance of the large tree, you begin to stand from the ground. As soon as you put pressure on your ankle however, you realise how bad of a decision that was. A loud yelp leaves you as you once again fall to the ground.

Hitting the ground with your fist in defeat, you decide calling out would be your only option, you could crawl but you’re pretty sure that would just lead to you getting more hurt.

Turning onto your back, you close your eyes and take a few deep breaths, trying to calm down and smell the lushness of the forest before you. If you were going to call for help, it had to be a good call, and you couldn’t do that if you were hysterical and unfocused.

Opening your eyes again, your calmness helps to push the growing pain aside as you begin to call for help.

“Someone! Help me! I’ve hurt my ankle and I can’t move! Help me!” You shout to the canopy of large trees above you. You’re not sure who will hear, but just hope your message is clear and loud enough.

Closing your eyes and beginning to breathe once again, you prepare yourself to make another call for aid. Luckily, however, as you open your eyes once again, you see none other then the king himself, kneeling beside you with a look of deep worry on his face.

“What trouble have you gotten into now?” He smirks down at you, but his eyes are still filled with worry.

“I tripped over and I’ve hurt my ankle.” You explain, trying not to sound pathetic.

“Ah, so that was the terrible howling I heard. And here I thought the spiders were being hurt, well an elf can dream.” He jokes with you, trying to calm the situation.

“One could only hope. Now I can wait here while you get help to lift me ba-.” Before you could finish your sentence, you felt Thranduils strong hands under your body as he began to lift you from the ground. There’s that touch of his again.

Looking into his face, you expect to see frustration or anger, but you see nothing but care as he stares back at you.

“I’m sorry if I’m too heavy.” You blurt out, not knowing what to say in this moment.

Thranduils rarely seen sweet smile shines onto his face as he looks ahead of him, beginning to take you back to his castle.

“Humans are always so funny. Elves are a lot stronger then the race of men, you feel no heavier then lifting a kitten.” His smile grows as he looks down at you.

Looking into his eyes and feeling his strong arms and hands so sweetly touching you, those thoughts of fancy seem to return with a vengeance.

“Does that mean you’ll feed me milk and scratch behind my ear?” You joke, trying to push your romantic thoughts from your head.

The silly question made Thranduil laugh in a way you’d never seen, it’s like his usual brooding self was washed away with sunlight and star shine.

“Perhaps I might just do that. Let you curl up by the fire and give you a ball of yarn.” He smiles down at you, as you now approach the doors to his kingdom.

Such a joke and such a smile does nothing to calm the feelings that grow in your heart, but you suppose you’ll just have to live with it.

Little do you know however, the image of you cuddled up to Thranduil by his fire as he takes care of you, fill his heart with a similar feeling. He too tries to push them away as he places you on a medical bed and elves begin to help you.

Stepping out of the room he tries to shake his own fancy from his head. How could such a bright and sweet person love an old and bitter elf as himself?

[weirdo-fun]

What Else Can I Do?

Azriel x Reader - Chapter 2

Here is Chapter 2! I got motivated seeing everyone liking the first chapter so I wrote chapter 2 as soon as I could. Enjoy!

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Summary: Reader ends up geting turned fae and befriends Elain and gets super close with her. But Reader notices Elain gets treated differently, and Reader would like to change that but a certain batboy always gets in her way of trying to help her friend and under her skin.

Word Count: 3.2 K (Sorry I had way to much fun with this one so it’s a long one 😅)

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, slight dislike for inner circle, dual POV 👀, fem! Reader, they just can’t get each other out of their heads

Author's Note: Soooo remember when I said Azriel and Reader will be interacting with one another?.... Yeah sorry that is not happening in this chapter. BUT don't be mad, Azriel is in this chapter he just hasn't "found" Reader yet. :)

Side Note: Apologies for any grammar mistakes. And yes I did listen to "What Else Can I Do" from Encanto as I wrote this.

You and Elain walk through the forest on the outskirts of Velaris, not going too deep so you guys can remember how to get back. The snaps of twigs is heard from under your boots. Your skirts perfectly covering your legs to stop tall blades of grass or sticks from scratching both of your skins. 

You take a deep breath in, smelling the crisp, tree trunk filled air, breathing in new life after being tucked away in the Town House for quite some time. The lush trees, grass, and needle-covered path reminds you of your home when you were a kid. You used to sneak off and play in the woods for hours with the other kids in the neighborhood. The nostalgic feeling puts a smile on your face. 

Elain stops walking and stares up and around her at the trees that seem to almost cover the sky above. You notice her eyes look at the scenery around with fondness. “Beats the boring walls of the Town House doesn’t it?” You ask playfully ask you walk over to her. She nods, “It certainly does.” She pauses for a moment until she looks at you. “Are you sure this is ok?” She asks with worryness in her voice. “I mean, like I know I said yes to this but now that we’re here I am worried what they will do if they find out.” You chuckle, “Hey, you can’t back out now. We are already here. Besides I did leave a note on the dining table saying we will be out and be back soon incase they do come back earlier. So they have no reason to freak out because I literally told them where we are.” You take a moment and your mind immediately goes to Azriel. “Well maybe Azriel will be a prick and throw a fit.” You roll your eyes and think of what he might say if he found out that you took Elain to the woods for a walk. 

You scowl, just thinking about how Azriel will yell at you for “taking a delicate girl with no supervision to the woods” and how “she could have gotten hurt”. It infuriates you that anything thing you do, you always think of what Azriel might say. He would always be the first to cross your mind when you would think of doing something or question yourself if you should be doing a certain thing. More than likely, you would end up doing whatever it was you were contemplating because it would rile you up just thinking about him telling you what you could and couldn’t do. Even if you knew what you were doing wasn’t the best choice, it was a choice he would disprove of and to you that is all that mattered. 

“Hey Azriel isn’t that bad.” Elain tried to say in a convincing tone to try and calm you down. You whip your head towards her with a glare in your eyes. The glare not directed at her but to who she was talking about. “Really?” You say unconvinced. “Azriel, the one who makes it his mission to scold me for almost anything for the simple fact that I don’t agree how he treats you. The same Azriel that doesn’t like me because I talk back to him when I am pretty sure he expects me to just nod my head and agree. The same person in which we can’t even sit next to each other in the same room or we start bickering about how the other one is sitting in the chair the wrong way.” Elain looks at you, at lost for words. You nod your head. “Yeah exactly. Sounds like he is a great guy.” You sarcastically say as you roll your eyes. 

Elain grabs your hand. “Hey, sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I know you guys don’t see eye to eye.” She looks at you with her doe apologetic eyes. “Let’s forget about them for now. Like you said earlier, we are already here. So let’s continue on our walk and take in the scenery.” Her soft voice calming you down almost instantly. You release a deep breath. “Annnnnnd I want to see this improvement of your power that you told me.” Elain says with excitement. “Well it’s not really improvement, more like testing out what else I can do?” You state as a question. Elain wraps her arm around your elbow and starts to pull you along the forest path. “Well then, let’s find out!” 

——————————————————

You were getting frustrated, you frown at the lavender flower that you just grow from the ground. “Another flower”, you think to yourself. You huff as you stand up, looking at the different colored flowers and plants circling you in which you unwantedly grew. You have been at this for only 15 minutes, and even though that is not a very long time it felt like an hour past for you. “Maybe you just need a break?” Elain’s voice calls you out of your negative thoughts. She sat on a rock to the side a few feet from where you decided to sit on the forest floor. You walk over to her with your head down in defeat. “I don’t understand, I was able to make a small cactus in my room that one time but now it just seems like my power went back to making just pretty things.” You huff out as you plop yourself next to Elain on the rock. “Why did the Caldron give me the power to grow things when it can only grow pretty flowers, plants, and vines?!” You annoyingly say. “Like I can’t think of a reason why I won’t be able to grow like giant trees, or moss, or poisonous plants, or even venus fly traps!” You look at the sky hoping the Mother can give you an answer. “Maybe a special condition needs to be met?” Elain says in an encouraging voice. “Like maybe, you have to be meditating, or be fulled with anger. Something like that.” You look at her questionably. “I don’t think a “special condition” needs to be met. I was able to do it once before but now it just seems like the power is blocked somehow.” You try to explain to Elain. It frustrated you not knowing how you were able to grow the cacti some time ago and now you can’t. “Well what were you doing when you grew the cactus? Maybe whatever it was triggered the cactus to grow?” You sit there thinking hard on Elain’s question. You run through the memory again to try and find an answer, a clue as to what triggered the cactus to grow. 

It was early in the afternoon, you were sitting on your window sill looking out at Velaris. You did this sometimes where you would sit and just watch the city at any point in the day. There was no particular reason why you did it, you just enjoyed not having to think about anything and just watch the world move forward. You started fiddling with some vines you grew from your hands, twisting and turning them. You then started to add small flowers buds to the vines. The small buds slowly began to bloom into small flowers of a soft blue color. As you were growing new vines and flowers into the mix, you stood up from the window sill and began to pace slowly in your room as you concentrated on making a flower crown. As you were mindlessly making the crown you started humming a song. You don’t know what song, you just started to hum a tune. As you hummed, you mindlessly were growing this intricate flower pattern of blue and purple flowers. Not realizing that the vines sprouting from the crown were growing towards the floor of your room and started to spread across the floor. You were stuck in your own little world humming a song that you didn’t notice that on the floor one of the vines started to grow vertically, and started to take a different shape. It was only then when you finished making the flower crown and you finished humming the song that you noticed the little cactus with a small blue flower on top next to your feet. Your eyes widen, you never knew you could do that. Then you looked around the room and realized that you let your power go a little bit too much. Vines and flowers spread across the floor of the bedroom and up onto the walls. You did notice that the vines and flowers looked bigger than they normally should. You marveled at what you created and wanted to know if you could do more. 

You blink as you recall the memory of that day. Now thinking back, you did realize that you were very calm and you weren’t actually trying to grow anything at all. “I was just humming a song while mindlessly making a flower crown.” You begin to say to Elain. “I-I think I wasn’t really focussing on anything to be honest. I was actually in my own world subconsciously making the crown.” Elain thinks for a moment and then says, “Maybe that what it is then. Don’t think about it too hard and be relaxed.” You look at her with almost a confused puppy look in your eyes. “Well how do I do that? I can’t just not think about what I want to grow. And before you say meditate like you said before you know damn well I am bad at that.” Elain thinks for a moment, she then smiles and stands up pulling you with her. “Well you said you were humming a song. Then lets hum a song and dance together.” She says completely serious. You look at her not believing what she is suggesting because this is a little out of character for her. “Are you serious?” You question making sure you heard her right. “100 percent.” She nods and smiles at you. “Come on, you were the one saying that I needed to start being more confident in myself and being able to voice my opinion out loud. I think dancing and singing in the middle of the forest without a care in the world will help me let go of my… “delicate nature”. Plus it will help you relax and not think too hard on your power.” You look at her and seeing the determination in her eyes tells you she is super serious about this. 

You give her the biggest smile and giggle as you grab her hand and start to spin her around. Elain laughs and she continues to dance with you with no music. She spins you around and you guys continue this unchoreographed dance with smiles, giggles, and laughs coming from both of you. To have some fun you begin to throw flower pedals in the air like confetti and they fall down around both of you, some getting caught in your guys’s hairs. As you guys dance, jump, and spin, flowers begin to grow surrounding you guys coming from you as the centerpoint. You don’t realized it at first but once you do, you feel a slight weight of power being lifted like the locked door holding your power back was slowly getting unlocked. It felt like the flowers danced with you; they didn’t feel like you were forcing them to grow. It felt like they listened to what you wanted in the moment and obeyed you. You took a hold of that feeling and continued to run with it. As you did a hand full of cacti popped up from the ground. You and Elain stopped dancing and looked at the cacti with amazement. Joyous yells came from both of you, happy that the dancing worked. Who knew having a good a time could unlock a power? 

With the new found feeling of your power and determination in your eyes you grab a hold of that closed door on your power open it. The rush of energy rushed through you and it almost seemed your sensed were heighten even more. Everything, touch, taste, sight, smell, and hearing. But it was a different change to your senses. It’s like you could feel the sort of life energy flowing through the grass beneath your boots; it seemed like you could hear the trees dancing as the wind blew past, to the whispered song that the flowers sung. Nature smelled, different. Like more alive. You couldn’t explain it, but it felt like nature came alive and you could understand it. 

“Hey! Reader are you ok?” Elain tugs on your arm worry written on her face as she sees you starring off. You blink a couple of times, shaking off the shock of your unlocked power. You lift your hands up and in a few seconds an enlarged sapphire blue flower springs up from the ground. The massive size of the flower scares Elain and she stumbles back a few steps. After a few seconds it takes for Elain to recover, she stares at the flower and then at you. “Holy wow. You can do that?!” Elains voice laced with interest and excitement. She walks over to the massive flower, each pedal being her size, to get a better look up close. “I think I can a lot more than that.” You smile walking over to stand next to her. She turns to you intrigued, “Well then let’s see it. What else can you do?” 

——————————————————

Azriel POV 

Shadows disburse as Azriel lands on the balcony of the Town House in the late afternoon. He sighs, glad to be back in Velaris. The mission that Rhys sent him on not only took longer than it needed to take, but Rhys could have easily done it himself. But being High Lord is tiresome and requires a lot of work, so his attention was needed else were. 

Azriel steps into the Town House ready for a quick bath and a cup of tea to help the incoming headache that he knows will receive, before dinner is served. His mind on the warm bath he was thinking of taking was interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps, a door swinging open, and a yell. “SHE’S NOT HERE!” Nesta’s worried and panicked voice echoes throughout the manor. 

Azriel stops in his tracks for a mear moment and briskly begins to walks in the direction of Nesta’s voice. His shadows start to swarm him, feeling their master’s concern over the commotion so they try to comfort him. “Whose not here? What happened?” Azriel thinks as he makes his way through the manor. 

Azriel follows the yelling and ends up at Elain’s bedroom. Standing at the entrance to her room with the door wide open Azriel sees Nesta panicked written face and Cassian standing next to her with a comforting hand on her shoulder to try and calm her down. “What’s wrong? Did something happen to Elain?” Azriel’s voice grabs the couples attention to see him take a few steps into the room. “We can’t find Elain.” Nesta answers worriedly. “Or Reader.” Cassian adds. “We looked around the manor and neither of them are here.” Cassian states as he walks towards Azriel. “What! Are you sure you checked every room?” Azriel questions with hope laced into his voice. Before Cassian could get a word in, Azriel sent out his shadows to scour the manor for any signs of the girls. 

His shadows come back and tells him that you and Elain were gone. Azriel was about to send them back out to search throughout Velaris for you guys but one shadow whispered to him that there was a note on the dining table. Without a word to Nesta or Cassian, Azriel speed walk to the dining hall. 

He walks in and he does noticed a small folded piece of paper on the large wooden table. Azriel picks it up, unfolds it and reads it. 

“Incase you guys get back earlier than we do. Elain and I are going for a walk in the woods. We shouldn’t be too long, so don’t worry.” 

P.S. We won’t stray too far so don’t panic Azriel 

-Reader :) 

Azriel crumbles the piece of paper and stuffs it in one of his leather pockets. He can’t believe you took Elain out of the Town House when he specifically told Elain to stay inside until either him or Nesta and Cassian got back to escort her if she wished to go somewhere. He should have known that you would convince Elain to do the opposite of what he says. He should have either convinced Cassian and Nesta to take you with them or forced you to go with him on his mission so that THIS wouldn’t happen. Frustration builds inside Azriel as he makes his way back to the balcony, getting ready to fly to the forest to bring Elain back and to yell at you for clearly going against his wishes. 

“Az!” Cassian's voice is heard from behind the shadowsinger, as his heavy footsteps come closer. “Did you find them?” Azriel shakes his head. “No, but I know where they are.” Azriel takes the note from his pocket and holds it up for Cassian. “Reader thought it would a great idea to take Elain to the woods for a walk.” Sarcasm and annoyance fell from his voice. “I swear, that woman is something else.” Azriel states with irritation. “Hey, how about we focus on finding Reader and Elain and then you can decide if you want to bicker with her. Even though I think you are being too hard on her.” Cassian says as calmly as he could to try and settle Azriel down. Azriel doesn’t respond, he just glares at him. “Let’s just find them and bring the back.” Azriel says as his wings shoot him to the sky and carry him towards the forest with Cassian in tow. 

You always did this. Ever since you became friends with Elain, you always disproved of him. It frustrated Azriel to no end that you would always talk back and bicker at him. He disliked how anytime he would tell Elain to do something you would always have something to say back. Even if it didn’t regard Elain, you always wanted to say something. This wasn’t the first time you pulled a stunt like this off. There were a few times where he specifically told you not to do something and what did you do? You did the complete opposite. It’s like you like to push his buttons, get him riled up, and angry at you. He doesn’t understand why you hate so much. All he has done, or tried to do, was to protect Elain because, unlike you with your extroverted nature, she has a softer nature. And Azriel, including the rest of the inner circle, want her to be comfortable and secure after everything that she went through. The same treatment would be applied to you if you had her personally but you don’t. You have to have a very friendly, social butterfly type personality that Azriel tries to hate, but subconsciously finds it interesting, intriguing even. 

Azriel shakes his head from the thought of you. Lately his head has been filed with thoughts of you. Anything he did or said, he would always think, “what would Reader say? How would she react?” He would imagine different scenarios of you getting upset at him or throwing a sly remark his way. It perplexes Azriel that you have been taking over his mind, and it aggravated him.

That is it for chapter 2! Hope you enjoyed it! So glad I finally brought Azriel into the story. As you guys can see by the amount of words I have, I had to delay Reader's and Azriel's interaction with one another by one more chapter. Sorry! :( But man don't they hate each other so much? Gosh, just can't keep each other out of their own heads! Well anyway, that is all! If you want to be added to the taglist please leave a comment and I will add you! I hope I did the taglist correctly I have never done one before so if someone can give me advice on how to do one properly that would be great because Google did not help at all. P.S. Just to let you guys know I will gone for vacation for about a week, I can't promise you guys anything but I will try to write what I can so that when I come back I can finish it up the next chapter as soon as possible and post it for you guys. I hate that I will have to keep y'all waiting. But until then take care! :)

taglist:

@aehllitas-blog @horneybeach1 @cleverzonkwombatsludge

[d0llcuries]

Hey beautiful! What do you think it would be like to have a childhood love with Neteyam? I would love to see this written by you, your writing is impeccable❤️

TWO FLYING FAN LIZARDS

pairing(s): neteyam x fem!na'vi reader

summary: alongside a boy destined for greatness only, you suffer

author's note: my first ever request i am geeking out rn!!! ◝(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) ◜♡ this was such a delight to write and i truly hope it lives up to ur expectations :3 also pls send more requests i begggggggg. second also,, to gain the most out of your reading experience i recommend listening to “let you go” by clara la san

(i would link it but it doesn't work for sum reason ( ˶•ᴖ•) !!)

edit: oh wait nvm i figured it out :p

your earliest memories of neteyam are filled with the fond experiences of your shared childhood. you remember the days when your mothers would gather under the open sky, their laughter ringing out like music while you sat beside neteyam. he was the boy with golden eyes, always grinning, always curious, and with him, even the quietest moments seemed to hold something special.

you were shy, clinging to your mother’s side, too nervous to speak or even meet the gaze of others. but neteyam, with his patient nature, never made you feel awkward or rushed. his presence had a quiet sort of assurance, like he knew you'd come out of your shell when you were ready. all he had to do was wait. he was oh so patient and gentle with you in fear that by even speaking too loud he might scare you away from him. you didn’t have to say much, anyway; he’d simply be there, drawing you into his world without a single word.

one day, when you were no older than six, the two of you sat by a small stream, its crystal-clear waters bubbling softly as they wound their way through the lush, bioluminescent foliage. nearby, a pair of glowing fan lizards darted between the trees, their wings shimmering as they moved through the thick, humid air. neteyam pointed them out to you, comparing them to your friendship with him. “that would be us if we were kenten.” you laughed softly at his silliness. he always tried to make you laugh, being the one to make you smile brought him immense pleasure, even then.

“come on, let's go fishing.” he said, turning to look at you with that smile of his, the one that made your stomach feel fluttery and warm. you had only blinked at him, unsure of how to answer, you didn't know how to fish. but that didn’t stop him. he stood up, pulling you gently by the hand. “come on, i will show you how.”

and that’s how it was with him. he didn’t push you to speak when you didn’t want to. instead, he’d offer you his hand, his patience, and his unspoken promise that whatever he was leading you toward would always be safe.

you and neteyam shared countless quiet moments like that. together, you wove crowns from soft vines, his strong hands clumsy at first while your nimble ones worked with natural ease. when his attempts would unravel, he’d laugh, his cheeks flushing the faintest shade of blue, but you’d always fix it with a smile and a flower tucked behind his ear, then everything would be okay again.

as you grew older, you noticed that things began to change. not so much between you and neteyam—no, he was always the same, always there—but the world around you shifted. neteyam was growing into his role, becoming more of a warrior, more of a leader. he spent less time with you, not because he wanted to, but because he had to. training demanded long hours, and when he wasn’t training, he was surrounded by other boys—future warriors, like himself. there were fewer afternoons by the stream and more days where you’d find yourself watching him, your heart oddly heavy with despaira sickening feeling that made your nose burn. they laughed loudly, joked around in ways you couldn’t quite relate to. eywa.. the way your heart would twist when one of the girls would playfully shove him, her eyes bright with something you didn’t want to name. you didn’t like feeling jealous. it wasn’t something you were used to, and it made you uncomfortable. but there it was, that little knot of jealousy, always sitting heavy in your stomach whenever you saw him with someone else. maybe there was something wrong with you. while neteyam was the easygoing, confident and popular warrior, you were still the quiet one. the shy one. the one who couldn’t quite shake the feeling of being on the outside looking in.

you told yourself it didn’t matter, that this was just the way things were supposed to be, but it hurt. a lot more than you were willing to admit. you’d tell yourself it didn’t matter, you had your place in his life, but the ache in your chest told you otherwise. you couldn’t help but feel out of place, as if you were being left behind, still sitting on the sidelines while everyone else moved forward without you.

you missed him. you missed the quiet connection you shared, the way he’d look at you like you were the only person in the world. you missed having him all to yourself.

you wondered if he missed that too.

you couldn't even wallow in good conscience, either. he wasn't doing anything wrong, he hadn't hurt you intentionally. and it wasn’t that neteyam ignored you. he never did. whenever he saw you, his face would light up in that way that made your heart skip, and he’d always make time for you, even if it was just a brief moment between his training sessions. but it wasn’t the same. you weren’t the same.

you weren’t blind to the fact that some of the other boys teased him for it—hanging out with a girl, the way he always seemed to make sure you were okay, even when you were off to the side. they’d throw comments his way, playful jabs meant to make him feel embarrassed, but neteyam never let it bother him. he’d shrug it off, flash them that confident smile, and maybe toss back a joke of his own. but he never let their teasing get in the way of the way he treated you. you were his friend, his closest friend, and nothing anyone said would change that.

what you didn’t know was that neteyam never let their words change the way he saw you. no matter how much they teased or questioned why hung around you, he would always defend you, though he never told you as much. to him, you were more than just a childhood companion. you were the one who knew him in ways no one else did, the one he could always count on, even if the two of you had drifted a little. you were his person. the one he could be quiet with. the one he could just be neteyam with, not the future olo’eyktan, not the skilled hunter. just him. he’d speak of you in ways that made their words fall flat. he’d tell them about how skilled you were with weaving, how you had a way with animals that no one else did, how your quiet nature wasn’t a weakness but a strength. he’d say all these things with such conviction that eventually, the teasing would stop, and some of his friends even began to speak to you with a newfound respect. not that you ever knew why. no, neteyam never told you how he stood up for you, how he made sure everyone knew just how important you were to him.

he thought about you more than he should, really. even when he was training, his mind would wander, wondering what you were doing, if you were sitting by the stream like you used to, if you missed him the way he missed you. he never said anything, though. not because he didn’t want to, but because he didn’t know how. neteyam was a leader, a warrior—he wasn’t supposed to get caught up in feelings like this. but when it came to you, he couldn’t help it.

sometimes, he’d catch you watching him, your eyes soft and sad in a way that made his chest ache. and on those days, he’d find a way to slip away from the others, to find you and remind you that you still mattered to him. he’d sit with you in the quiet places, just like you used to, and you’d talk about everything and nothing all at once. or sometimes, you wouldn’t talk at all, and that was okay too. because being with you, even in silence, was always better than being anywhere else.

the years went on like that, this quiet dance between you. a push and pull that neither of you acknowledged but both of you felt. neteyam would go off and train, surround himself with the others, and you’d watch from a distance, feeling that familiar sting of jealousy. but then he’d come back to you, in those small stolen moments, and everything would feel right again.

in the stillness of the night, when the village had quieted and the stars blinked softly above, you would often find yourself beneath the great tree, kneeling before its glowing roots. with trembling hands, you’d reach out to the sacred tendrils, allowing them to intertwine with your queue, the warmth of tsaheylu forming a direct connection to eywa herself. as soon as the bond was made, a soft hum filled the air, a rhythm of life, and the world seemed to fade away. you would close your eyes, letting the sensation of eywa’s presence wrap around you, offering comfort to the ache deep within. through the bond, you would silently pour out your heart, sharing the loneliness that had taken root, the hurt of watching neteyam slip further into the world of others while you were left behind. you missed the days when he was yours—if only in the quiet ways no one else saw—and the memories of those moments felt like threads slowly unraveling in your hands.

as you made tsaheylu, eywa would listen, her presence gentle yet unwavering, and you could feel her understanding pulse through you, as if she too mourned the shifting tides of your life. you sought her wisdom, asking why it was that neteyam’s laughter with others felt like a knife to your chest, and why you no longer felt enough in his eyes. in that sacred connection, though, eywa offered something more than answers—she gave you peace, a quiet reminder that your worth was not tied to neteyam’s presence or absence. though your heart still ached, there was a growing strength within you, a stirring realization that you, too, were part of the balance of this world, and it was time to let yourself grow. the bond with eywa whispered gently, nudging you forward, reminding you that while you could not control neteyam’s path, you could choose your own, and in that, there was a power you had long forgotten.

it was clear that the great mother had heard you.

as time went on, you changed too. slowly but surely, your once-soft voice became stronger, more assured. you spoke up during gatherings, your words thoughtful and careful, earning the respect of those around you. your smile seemed a little brighter, your laugh rang out a little louder. even the other girls began to take notice, welcoming you into their circles in ways they hadn’t before. the quiet, shy girl he’d known since childhood was beginning to take up more space, stepping into her own.

the older women would often call on you, noticing the quiet grace with which you handled tasks. your hands had become deft at weaving intricate patterns into cloth, your fingers swift and sure, and soon enough, your skill was sought after for more than just small adornments. you became a familiar presence in the community, helping gather herbs for healers or assisting with the intricate beadwork on ceremonial attire. the elders would smile as you passed, offering words of praise, their eyes warm with approval as they watched you grow into yourself. in their gaze, you no longer felt like the shy girl trailing behind—there was a new respect, one you had earned for all by yourself.

neteyam was so proud of you. maybe now that you weren't so painfully uncomfortable in public settings, he could spend more time with you! you were more vibrant now, more seen. it was like the world was finally catching up to what neteyam had always known—that you were special. some of his friends, the very ones who used to tease him for spending so much time with you, began to gravitate toward you. they were curious, drawn in by the way you carried yourself now, with a grace and confidence that was undeniable. he’d catch glimpses of them laughing with you, their eyes lingering a little too long, and it stirred something in him that he didn’t quite understand at first. it was a strange, uncomfortable feeling—one that settled deep in his chest, coiling tight and hot.

his now, increasingly annoying, friends admired you, spoke of you in ways that made him violet with discomfort. neteyam didn’t like it. he didn’t like the way they looked at you, as if they were seeing something new in you, something that had always been his to see. he wasn’t used to sharing you like this, wasn’t used to watching other people discover the parts of you that he had cherished in private. it didn’t sit well with him, though he told himself it was just because things were changing, and change was always hard.

the realization hit him one afternoon, as he watched one of his friends catch your attention, making you laugh in that bright, easy way of yours. neteyam felt a pang of something sharp and uncomfortable, something that burned hot in his chest. jealousy. it was jealousy. and with it came the sudden, undeniable truth that he’d been avoiding for far too long.

you weren’t just his childhood friend anymore. you weren’t just the girl he’d spent years playing with, weaving crowns by the stream and catching the light in the water. you were more than that. you were special in a way he hadn’t fully understood until now, and the thought of someone else seeing you like that—of someone else making you smile the way he always had—made him feel like he was losing something important.

in that moment, as he watched you laugh, so vibrant and full of life, neteyam realized what he had been denying for far too long. maybe you weren’t just his closest friend. maybe you were more than just the girl who had always been by his side. maybe, just maybe, he liked you in a way that made his heart race and his thoughts stumble. it was a slow realization, creeping up on him like the setting sun, and by the time it fully settled in his chest, he knew. this wasn’t just friendship anymore.

lmk if this whole “shy yn” bit is annoying or uncomfortable, it feels like the most comfortable thing to write for me but i can swing in any direction u guys preferrrr

[craftingcreatures]

Today I want to talk about the Pacific Northwest Tree Octopus (Octopus paxarbolis).

OK, so for those who don't know, the PNW Tree Octopus was an internet hoax created in 1998 consisting of a website detailing the animal's life history and conservation efforts. It's completely fake - saying that up front. This animal never existed.

But if you look at this from a speculative biology standpoint? It's genius.

There is one, and only one, thing preventing Octopus from colonizing and being hugely successful in terrestrial environments in the PNW, and that's the fact that no cephalopod has ever been able to overcome the osmotic stress of inhabiting freshwater. We don't know why this is; other mollusks evolved freshwater forms just fine. But if you hand-wave away that one, single limiting factor, the PNW is just primed for a terrestrial octopus invasion.

The Pacific coast of North America is an active tectonic boundary, meaning the coast transitions pretty much immediately into the Cascade and Coastal mountain ranges (contrast with the east coast and its broad Atlantic plain). It's also a lush temperate rainforest, with very high precipitation. This means lots and lots of high-gradient mountain streams with lots of waterfalls and rapids and cold, highly oxygenated water, and not as many large, meandering rivers.

This has important consequences on the freshwater fauna. For one, there are not many freshwater fish in the Pacific Northwest - the rapids and waterfalls are extremely hard to traverse, so many mountain streams are fish-free. There also just isn't much fish diversity in the first place - there's sturgeon in the big rivers, salmonids, a few sculpin and cyprinids and... that's pretty much it. These cold northern rivers are positively impoverished compared to the thriving fish communities of the Mississippi or Rio Grande.

Few fish means few predators, and depending on the size of the first freshwater octopus, salmon and trout just wouldn't be much of a threat. And while these rivers don't have much in the way of fish diversity, there's lots of prey available - crayfish, leeches, mosquito larvae, frogs and tadpoles, water striders, and other aquatic insects, just to name a few. So the first Octopus pioneers to invade the rivers would be entering what essentially amounts to a predator-free environment with lots and lots of food and no competition. Great for colonization.

These ideal conditions get even better once you get up past the rapids and waterfalls, since there's no fish whatsoever in those streams. Octopus, with their sucker-lined arms, are perfectly equipped to navigate fast-moving, rocky-bedded streams and climb up cliffs. They'd also be well able to traverse short stretches of dry ground to access even more isolated pools and ponds. In fact, once Octopus overcome the osmoregulation problem there's nothing at all preventing them from colonizing land in earnest, since the PNW rainforests are so wet; there's no danger of drying out.

Finally there's the question of reproduction. Octopus are famously attentive mothers, because they need to keep the water around their eggs moving and well-oxygenated. In a mountain stream, this wouldn't be an issue, because the cold, turbulent water holds lots and lots of oxygen. Breeding in high mountain streams would be ideal, and the mothers might not even need to attend to their eggs, freeing them up to evolve away from semelparity and allowing them to reproduce more than once in their lives; their populations would thus increase rapidly and dramatically.

I think, if octopus managed to invade freshwater ecosystems in the PNW, it would dramatically change the ecology much like an invasive species. They'd be unstoppable predators of frogs, bugs, slugs, maybe even larger animals like snakes, birds, and small mammals. Nothing would eat them except maybe herons, and things like bears and raccoons would give them a wide berth due to their venom. They would rule that landscape.

The tl;dr is that the PNW is primed for invasion by cephalopods, if only they could manage to overcome the osmoregulation problem and live in freshwater. If the Pacific Northwest Tree Octopus really did exist, it wouldn't be a shy and reclusive species on the brink of extinction; it would be a pest, an invasive, overpopulated menace you couldn't get rid of if you wanted to. I can just imagine them crawling up onto people's bird feeders and either stealing the nuts or luring in unsuspecting sparrows and starlings. They would sit in the trees and throw pinecones at hikers for fun. They would be some unholy mixture of snake and slug with the personality of a magpie and I am incensed that they only exist in fiction.

[crystalfic]

Yesterday's Legacy, Chapter 1

You asked, I provide! The next part of We're Off to Punch the Wizard, otherwise known as Yesterday's Legacy.

AO3 link

Prologue is here

(I have endeavoured to be as accurate and respectful as possible to the Islamic faith, but if I've made any horrible errors, please let me know.)

Valla's hand slipped from Emma's grip as her feet hit the ground. Sunglasses. She should have brought sunglasses. It might be cloudy back home, but she had walked through a solid glass window and now it was bright and idyllic and beautiful and had she mentioned bright yet? Ow. Valla squinted in automatic protest against the sunlight assaulting her eyeballs.

Beside her, Emma had grabbed Andy's chin and was looking closely into his eyes. A moment later, Emma released her husband and stepped back with a sigh of relief. "All clear. No glow," she said, and both Andy and Mukhtar visibly relaxed.

"No glow?" Valla echoed.

Mukhtar glanced at Valla, his dark eyes softening. "No glow means that the side-effects of his use of magic have stopped. For now, at least."

"Magic. Okay. I'm in a world where magic works, how else would I have got here in the first place?" Valla wanted to pace, wanted to let her jitters out through her feet, but she held herself still.

"You are not mad," Mukhtar said firmly, understanding what she had not said. "Or drugged. Or dreaming. In this world, magic is real. I am not one of those who could ever use it, but these two can."

While Valla was processing this, Mukhtar stepped over to Emma and Andy to exchange a few murmured words. With little more than a few nods, the three of them separated – Mukhtar and Emma to the trees at the side of the clearing, Andy to sit on a convenient rock. Something small, something that glittered in the bright daylight, passed from Mukhtar to Emma, and she put it in her pocket without a word before they disappeared into the forest.

Had that tree politely lifted its branches out of Emma's way? No. No, it must have been the wind.

Lost, Valla seated herself on the suspiciously ergonomically-shaped rock next to Andy and drank in the landscape. Before them, a circle of stones on mostly-bare earth, and lush ground cover beyond that. Circling them, trees of more kinds than Valla could name pushed against each other in their competition for good soil and light and air. Above, a cloudless blue sky of a shade she'd rarely seen except at the height of summer.

"You okay?" Valla ventured.

"I will be," Andy said, leaning back on his hands as his eyes fixed on that astonishing sky. "It's been a few decades since I've used – well, any magic at all, to be honest. Took more out of me than I expected."

"The joys of closing in on your forties," Valla said dryly before changing the subject. "Um, Mukhtar said that you and Emma had magic?"

"We do, but it only works here. I'm a sorcerer, which means I channel magic directly through my body and invoke it by will. That kind of use has side effects, which is why Emma was worried about the glowing eyes. Emma, she's a plant-witch, although a better translation is probably plant-sibling. Plants speak to her, and they usually do what she wants them to. Except goatweed. Very stubborn stuff, goatweed."

"Should I have brought weedkiller?" Valla asked, biting her lip thoughtfully.

Andy half-twisted towards her and eyed the heavy-duty hiking backpack slung over her shoulders. "I think you're carrying enough already. Wait, is that a frying pan?"

"If it's good enough for Sam Gamgee, it's good enough for me," Valla said firmly, even as the smile that pulled at the corners of her mouth ruined the attempt at seriousness. "Lord of the Rings is one of Jamie's favourite books."

"Hope you're not expecting second breakfast," Andy teased back.

Valla laughed, which released Andy's own snicker, and the two of them let their laughter fill the air for a moment. It wasn't that funny, but it was a release from tension that they both needed.

"I was born here," Andy said abruptly, cutting off Valla's lingering giggles. "By the time I opened the portal to Emma's world, I was eighteen, and the magic I used was destroying my body. I expected her and Mukhtar to go. I didn't expect them to refuse to leave me." There was an odd, wondering smile on his face. "They hauled me through anyway. It was stolen magic, magic that I barely knew how to use, and I messed up the temporal anchors. I set it to the world that they remembered, and forgot to account for their seven years here. I sent us back to nearly the moment they'd left. In payment, the magic took those seven years from us. I was eleven again. More or less healed, but I'm not sure that having to go through puberty again was worth it."

That. That was. Valla was aware her mouth was hanging open, and she snapped it shut as quickly as she could. "I need a few minutes to process that," she said faintly.

Andy nodded, and turned back to his contemplation of the sky.

"More or less healed?" Valla said after a while.

"Eh, I still had some of the scars I earned as a teenager. That said, it was easier growing up the second time around. Fewer people were trying to kill me. Much less stressful."

Valla shook her head and packed away that casual admission for later. "You said you were born here. Does – does this realm have a name?"

Andy shrugged. "Maybe? If it does, I never learned it. Emma calls it Deathworld."

The peaceful glade took on sinister overtones in Valla's mind. "So all this pretty is just the sweet topping over poison?"

"Mostly. This is a campsite, one that's been used recently by the look of the ashes, so it's reasonably safe. Otherwise? Yeah. It took a long time for us to figure that out as kids." His eyes closed, fingertips digging into the stone of his seat. "Too long."

Valla was certain of two things. One, that at least one of the kids that he'd been travelling with had died, and two, that she did not want to know about it. (They'd been children, he'd been eleven and Emma would have been even younger, good grief was this Wizard mad?)

The sound of good, solid, Earth-made hiking boots on packed earth interrupted them, and Valla turned gratefully to see Emma padding back out of the treeline.

"I've talked to Mukhtar," Emma said without preamble once she was close enough to speak normally. "He thinks we're somewhere in Galgarn's Forest. I agree; the plants say someone very large is wandering around here, and this place feels familiar." She spread her hands. "Wish I could remember it better, but we travelled through a lot of places back then."

"Is he still back there?" Andy asked.

"Yeah, he took a few minutes to pray. He brought his qiblah talisman, it lit up right on time."

At Valla's bewildered look, Emma pulled the shiny thing she'd seen earlier out of her pocket. It was shaped like a bookmark with a rounded point on one end, made of metal engraved with what looked to Valla's untrained eye like Arabic text.

"It's still functioning?" Andy asked in surprise. "I was worried it might have drained out while we were on Earth."

"You do good work, love," Emma said fondly. To Valla, she explained, "It glows and hums when it's time for his prayers – we didn't have watches, back then, and you can't always see the sun. It also points the way to Mecca for him. He's not sure if it counts as an amulet and he can't really ask an imam about it, so one of us hangs onto it for him."  

"And it is very useful," Mukhtar said from behind them. Valla squeaked, achieving a levitation of at least two inches without benefit of magic.

Andy snorted. "Still sneaking up on people?"

Mukhtar grinned unrepentantly. "You too could be quiet, if you practiced."

Emma rolled her eyes, also smiling. Valla might not be in on this particular in-joke, but she could tell it was there.

"Any sign of the children?" Andy asked, bringing them all back around to their first and most important task.

"None. However, I would have been surprised to find anything – we followed our children quickly, but there is no guarantee that the Portal dropped us in the same place as them."

"It's unlikely we were, Andy admitted. "It was taking everything I had just to hold it open. Trying to maintain the exact destination was a losing fight."

Mukhtar clapped a hand on Andy's shoulder. "I'm grateful that you did hold it open. We will find our children, Andy. I have faith that Allaah is with us."

"Good," Emma said, with a nod of thanks to Mukhtar. "So, if we're in Galgarn's Forest, let's go straight to the source."

"Talk to Galgarn?" Andy shivered. "Are you sure?" "We're not kids anymore," Emma said with a dangerous glint in her eyes. "I'd like to see him try that kind of intimidation now."

[sunshine-theseus]

Slow | Chloe Logarzo x Reader

Words: 1.9k Summary: despite a rough relationship with your parents, your closeness to your sister brings you Chloe, the only girl for you. Warning: NOT PROOF READ I have no clue if this is any good and I’m so sorry I think it might be one of my worst ones😭, I know the WBBL started in 2015 but who fucking cares, I changed it – no COVID but Olympics still postponed for some unknown reason :D Requested by - @charligrantismygirlfriend - not happy with this one at all i'm genuinely so sorry

Sport wasn’t something I was unfamiliar with. In fact, it was my favourite thing. As a kid, my mum and dad put me through many different clubs for different sports, from tennis to AFL. We always landed back at the same lush green cricket pitch in the western suburbs of Sydney on a Saturday morning, surrounded by other girls of all ages who shared my passion.

On Sundays my younger sister would play her soccer games, so we’d spend the weekend in a hotel in the city, then go to each other’s games, pretending to do our homework as we watch.

Not long into Ellie’s soccer journey, our parents decided the move from Cowra to Sydney was necessary for her to develop. The hours long trips to and from training in the depths of Sydney every afternoon proving to be more difficult as she progressed in school.

I no longer lived with them when they made the move, but I resented Ellie for a while. I’d been playing cricket before she could walk, albeit poorly as a 6-year-old, and had moved up through the stages into the best group in the academy by the age of 14. My parents insisted nothing much would come of it, so there was no reason to make such a drastic move and leave the farm and small-town life behind.

-

I started playing professionally for Sydney in the Twenty20 Cup at 17, the same year I got my first call-up for the women’s national cricket team. We, or they, still didn’t live in Sydney, so I dropped out of high school my senior year, and lived with one of the older girls who was also on the national team. I made my national debut a couple months after in a test match against England. My parents didn’t come, Ellie had some important game on that was simply impossible to miss.

-

At 15, when they finally joined me in the city, Ellie joined her first W-league team, and had her first senior team call-up. I made sure to be there for both debuts, avoiding my parents who sat in the crowd nearby. I cried the moment she first touched the pitch in a Matilda’s jersey, and rushed down from the stands to pick her up and hug her when the match was over.

That’s when I first met her… Chloe. My age, a beautiful brunette in the midfield who celebrated with my sister after their 9-0 win against Vietnam. We introduced ourselves and exchanged numbers but nothing much came of it. I can’t deny the many nights I spent awake dreaming of the girl.

The next time I saw Chloe in person was a Sydney Derby. Naturally I’d come to support my sister, but I couldn’t help but cheer whenever the older girl got a touch on the ball. I met up with her and Ellie again after the game, shouting them both dinner. That’s when Chloe asked me out on our first date.

It was somewhat rushed. Her departure for Newcastle was pending and it limited our options, leaving us to grab some shitty take away and dance around in a field down the road from where I lived. The sun was bright, but her smile was brighter. I stumble on my own feet whenever she looked at me, her beauty beyond compare. The beginning of a sunburn kissing my cheeks only provided me so much of an excuse as to why I was so red.

“I’m going to come to every single one of your games.” She whispers in my ear as we lay on the picnic blanket, beneath the over looming gum tree, me playing with her hair as she rests a hand beneath my loose linen shirt.

“You have your own training. And you can’t drive 2+ hours back and forth once a week. Also we have away games you can’t possibly make...” Despite my desperate want for her to be there every game, I begin to list all the reasons it wasn’t logical.

“I’ll find a way. And if not all, most home games.” She gives me a satisfied smile, one that tells me she knows she’s won whatever little argument we had.

-

Chloe keeps her promise, and I join her in my own. We both attend each other’s home games as often as possible, and very rarely, we managed to catch an away game. It usually happened when we were both playing a game in the same city, but we took whatever we were given.

Things went down hill when she moved to Sweden.

She hadn’t been the one to tell me. Ellie was spending a week with me after returning from the Olympics, which I had managed to attend most of, and asked me how I felt about the move. Chloe and I had been dating for a year, so the shock that she hadn’t told me was bigger than the shock at the news.

“What do you mean? She would tell me if she was moving to Sweden.” The pity in my little sister’s eyes is enough to break me. She pats and rubs my back as I sob into her shoulder. My whole body shakes as I moan and weep, and by the time I stop my eyes burn and there isn’t a dry spot on her shirt.

-

“So this is it? You’re breaking up with me because I’m moving?” Chloe looks at me like I’ve got 2 heads as I stand on her front step.

“No, I’m breaking up with you because I had to find out from my little sister, by accident, that you’re moving. Were you ever going to tell me? Or was I just going to have to find out when The Jets removed your name from the squad list?”

“I’m going to come back for the A-League season anyway! It’s not like I’m never coming back, I’ll barely be gone 8 months. And I was going to tell you!”

“When? Once your plane touched down in Stockholm or wherever you’re going? In 5 months when I called you so you can explain why you didn’t come to my game? When were you going to tell me Chlo?” I’m met with silence.

“That’s what I thought.” I turn and walk away, never expecting to see her again.

I can hear her shouting something at me as I continue to walk down the road, droplets of rain beginning to fall on the pavement in front of me. Nothing really registers until I’m standing in front of my sister’s apartment door, clothes heavy with rain and a face void of any other emotion except heartbreak.

-

I don’t see Chloe for years to come following the tragic end of our relationship. Despite her coming back during the summer to play for Sydney, I had no reason to watch her games, Ellie having moved to Portland to develop her career.

Then Ellie moved to Lyon, and I decided to move with her, putting a pause to my cricketing career. Further away from Chloe and closer to Ellie seemed like the perfect deal.

So I helped Ellie move and meet her new teammates. Every morning I’d make her breakfast and then walk around the city, usually finding myself in a café or museum and writing a book. Something I never planned on doing anything with, but found a solace in.

That’s how I found myself in the same café I go to every Saturday, typing in the same document I have been typing in for 5 months. Desperately pressing the backspace as I sip the now cold coffee, I don’t notice someone sliding into the seat across from me.

“Fancy seeing you here.” I’m surprised I didn’t get whiplash at the speed in which my head snapped up to look at the girl across from me.

She looks different. Not really, just… older. And her hair is bleached, skin just a fraction more tan, eyes still that shimmering blue. Still beautiful

“Chloe- what the fuck are you doing here?” the words nearly get caught in my throat as I try to process what’s going on.

“Well, I’m playing for Bristol now, in case you didn’t know. Only spent 2 seasons in Sweden then went back to Sydney, went on loan to Washington for a season, back to Sydney, now I’m in England. We have a small break so I thought I’d come see Ellie. Planned everything around you, knew you wouldn’t want to see me. I didn’t take into account you might still like coffee as much as you used to.”

“How’d you even know I’m with Ellie?” it’s a dumb question but I ask it none the less.

“You think I stopped tracking your career because we broke up? I have to say, when I read the “renowned cricketer Y/N Carpenter taking a break for an unforeseen amount of time to help her little sister, Matildas star Ellie Carpenter, settle into the big leagues at Olympique Lyonnais.” headlines, I was shocked.” I finally managed to meet her eyes, the crow’s feet that crack at the corners making her ever the more pretty. It’s aggravating.

“Thought it’d help me get away from Sydney.”

“Sydney? Or me?” I almost want to grab her by the shoulders and scream at her how much I miss her, but I stay sat and silent. A satisfied hum escapes her lips and a smile graces her face.

“I miss you.” She says what I’m thinking, and I begin to think how much of a coward I am. It was so easy for her, why am I struggling?

She doesn’t let me reply, getting up and walking out. I get up to follow her but she’s vanished in the crowd, so I sit, letting my coffee grow colder, thinking about her.

~~~~~

“Ellie this is a bad idea.”

“Common. Meeks is bringing Harley and Kirstey. You love Harley. You can babysit!” my little sister is determined, although my fighting is useless as we drag our suitcases through the airport.

“Chloe is going to be there El.”

“Chloe is going to be here.” I nearly bump into her as she stops in front of us.

“And she’ll be your plane buddy.” The cheeky grin I was once so familiar with graces her face and I can feel the corner of my own lips twitching as my heart clenches. Fuck.

“Oh goody.” I try to ignore the sweat that begins to prick through my skin as Ellie stalks away from us to meet Emily Gielnik.

-

“Real talk.” Chloe’s face is serious as soon as we take our seats on the plane.

“I miss you, and I want to try this again. I get you may not want to but you can’t tell me you don’t still feel even the tiniest bit of love for me still.” Her finger waggles back and forth between as to indicate exactly what she’s talking about and I sigh.

“I miss you too…” I meet her eyes and I can see the hope that grows behind them.

“But if we try this out again, we have to take it slow. Like go out on a few dates to start with.”

“I can do that.” She eagerly nods her head in agreement.

“I’d really like that.” I smile back at her, and that seems to end the conversation.

As the engine rumbles and we begin moving along the tarmac, I rest my arm on the armrest. I gently slide my hand into Chloe’s and rest my head on her shoulder, closing my eyes. Maybe slow wasn’t necessary, I love her too much.

[zalpacka]

Whumptober day 1

Ello! This is the first time I’m participating in something like this, so hopefully I do well!

WARNING!!!

KIND OF MILD GORE AND BLOOD/ICHOR!

For a bit of context, Zalpacka is the name of my character (and my user, I'm aware), who- in short- is a very powerful god who’s too much of a silly, innocent child to actually do anything life changing or important to a timeline/universe. Without further ado, here it is!

Looking back, I went a bit out of the lines of what the prompt said, but that's okie!

Black ichor coated the ground like reversed snow, warm and glistening. The sunlight was beating down on the shimmering liquid, increasing the scent of the metallic god’s blood. If you were to ignore the ichor, you could pretend like it was a beautiful day on the lush field…

Of course, Zalpacka had no way of pretending like everything was fine for once. Seeing as it was their ichor being spilt and spread across the vibrant green grass, not even their hazy eyes, devoid of tears could deny that.

They could’ve been okay, they would’ve been able to escape with ease and massacre their captures. But how can one kill the very people they’ve grown to care so fondly of over the course of years?

At least, Zalpacka assumed that it was the people that they cared about. It might have been the loss of ichor, or the pain overwhelming their brain, but everything looked too fuzzy to recognize.

Even their voices were disoriented, and yet, Zalpacka could just barely grasp who it was. It was like reading the words on the other side of a paper with a light shining through it, difficult to read, yet tangible.

In the sea of noises, Zalpacka dimly registered a sentence, “don’t you feel any remorse for what you’ve done?”, a blur of red growled. The child god didn’t resist as they felt harsh hands rip off more vines from their ichor stained wings made of glowberries and azalea trees.

They didn’t let any tears fall from their hazy eyes as the pain tore apart their mind. They could unsummon their wings, they did so frequently to swap them out for some other kind of wings, but they didn’t.

After all, they deserved this pain, right?

Why else would their friends tie them up to slaughter the young deity? Zalpacka wasn’t quite sure why the group of fuzzy colors and voices were attacking them, but they assumed that it was for a good reason. After all, no one gets hostile for no reason.

...

It took a long while of agony, but the group eventually left Zalpacka in the field, mangled and bound to the coarse rope. They laid there helplessly for a moment, watching the clouds above them move as their vision grew darker.

The god wasn’t sure what to think. Were they dying again? They’d respawn if that was the case, that’s what always happened. But this time felt different. It was like they were taking something with them as their mind slipped away…

...

They respawned, like normal, in the same place, at the same time, in the same body.

Except… It felt wrong this time.

Something was off and horribly wrong.

Zalpacka shot up from their bed that they were laid in, frantically trying to search for what was different. Their wings were repaired, their white, fox tail filled with fluff and unstained, their cuts and gashes healed, and their bones were mended…

Then they found it.

With a shaky hand, they reached up towards their eyes, feeling foreign streaks underneath them. Their mind screeching with a rigid chorus of, “wrong”, they rushed to the bathroom. The only mirror they had revealed what was different with them after this respawn.

Their eyes were fine, but the skin underneath them… it was tainted. It had black streaks under it, slick and smooth to the touch, like leather. Of course, only the recently deceased god understood what they were meant to resemble. What they were embedded inside of their flesh to serve as a constant reminder of.

After all…

Who else cried black, ichor tears, but the deity of chaos themself?

Word count: 607

[xxkitty13]

Vampire AU pt. 4

Vampire Law x Human Luffy

Law gets more ticked off ;)

Previous -> Part 3 Next-> Part 5

Luffy sat alone at the large dining table. The food was enough to fill him up, but it was not quite enough to satisfy his appetite. Something was missing. . . Sanji’s cooking. That’s what he’s been craving. There was nothing like his sweet and spicy glazed ham or his savory grilled lamb chops. Luffy picked at the peas on his plate, he had of course eaten all the meat, except for the sides. It’s strange, usually he devours everything.

Sanji would hate to see him play with his food, so he managed up the strength to eat all the peas. He gulped hard, feeling the hard little beans go down his esophagus. Luffy groans from the pain and slumps on the chair. He’s bored.

Hanging with the Heart Pirates was fun and all, but there’s nothing like his own crew. He wonders where they are. That wild storm caused him to go overboard, but luckily, he was able to hold onto a slab of wood from his ship.

He hastily gets up from the chair and lingers out to the halls of the castle. The place is vacant, Law told him to stay put as he had private matters with his crew. For the first time in a while, he feels homesick. Yes, sharing the place with the vampire was nice, but it doesn’t “scream” home. The Sunny, that’s his home, he wishes he could be on it.

“Okay, I don’t care what Torao says. I’m going outside.”

Luffy changed the course of his direction and goes through the back doors of the castle. He scans his surroundings before taking a step outside. He takes a deep breath in, enjoying the fresh air. This was better, it’s nothing like the warm sun hitting your skin.

It was time for an adventure, he had enough of that dark and gloomy place. Today's mission is to find that beast from the day he arrived. That weird looking creature chased him all around the island and it was time for payback. Maybe it will be worthy meal, something to makeup the unsatisfying lunch he had earlier. So, he embarks, entering the forest that Law specifically told him not to go in.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖౨ৎ.𖥔 ݁ ˖-`♡´-.𖥔 ݁ ˖౨ৎ.𖥔 ݁

An hour or two goes by, and Luffy has not found anything exciting. Vast lush vegetation is the only thing that surrounds him, it is beautiful of course, but it is not the excitement he is looking for. He sighs deeply and slumps over the grassy floor. His eyes trail the sky above him, the clouds move in a steady pace, crossing the never-ending blue field. Sky watching is not fun at ground level, his arm stretches to a tree branch, and he pulls himself up.

"Oh, you can see everything from up here," he says looking over the treetops. His eyes scan across the open view and spots a small mountain. "Perfect, maybe I can locate the beast from there."

In a jiffy, he swings from tree to tree to make it to the mountain. It didn't take long before he reached his destination. He escalates the rocky terrain and hears voices coming from the top. Luffy proceeds carefully, not wanting to be found. Using the bushes, he hides inside of them and peaks out to see the owners of the voices. To his surprise, it's Law's crewmates.

Penguin and Shachi are at the highest point of the island. Each held a pair of binoculars, watching the island at all angles.

“I wonder what gotten into the captain. He’s on high alert," Shachi says, removing the binoculars from his eyes.

Penguin does the same and sits down to take a small break. "I don't know either. Do you think Doflamingo might be on his ass?"

"I doubt it. He doesn't seem to be scared, it's something else. . ."

"Where is he anyway? I wonder what's he's up to with Bepo," Penguin groans, going back to watch duty.

"I dunno, he said something about loading the missiles on the submarine. Whatever he's doing, he is definitely going to demolish the ship he's awaiting."

Luffy sits quietly, he's an idiot, but the word ship caught his attention. He continues to listen to the conversation.

Shachi proceeds to take a 360 view of the island's coast. "Oh, incoming from the northeast," — he points in the direction of the object— “is that a ship?"

Penguin squints through his binoculars and tries to locate the possible vessel. Using the knob, he focuses in on the black dot, and he is able to distinguish a weird looking ship coming their way. "Well, looks like our duty is over. Call cap."

"On it." Shachi takes out his transponder snail and dials Law. "Captain, we have spotted ship coming fast from the northeast direction. We have not identified the vessel."

Luffy's ears perk up at the vampire's voice.

"Head to the sea. You know what to do."

"Roger that."

The two leave their spots and run down the mountain, leaving the binoculars behind. Luffy is intrigued by the so-called ship. He picks on of the binoculars and looks out to the location of where they spotted it. At first, he sees nothing, but with a bit of focus, he's able to distinguish the ship. He suddenly drops the instrument and sweat forms on his forehead. It has to be a mistake, he wouldn't dare. . . it's the wrong ship. It has to be.

Without a second thought, he runs down the mountain, following behind Penguin and Shachi.

“Hey!”

“Huh? What’s he doing here-"

Luffy tackled them both, rolling down the hard rocks that cover the slope. The three men crash by an old tree stump, with Luffy breaking their fall with his inflated body.

“Ugh, what’s the big idea Luffy?!” Penguin groans from pain.

“What are you guys planning to do with that ship?” Luffy's tone stern as he holds onto the collar of his suit.

“Woah, calm down buddy,” Shachi says, trying to pull the younger off.

“Answer my question.”

“Chill out Luffy, we’re just following cap’s orders. I’ll tell you if you let him go.”

“Fine," Luffy grumbles, hastily letting go.

“Look, cap wants us to sink any ship that comes in contact with the island. I don’t know what’s the threat is, but he’s serious about it.”

“Sink?!” He yells out.

“Hey, calm down.”

“How can I calm down if he’s planning to sink my ship! My crew is onboard!”

Penguin and Shachi look at each other in shock. That’s the reason why their captain wants to sink it, to leave Luffy without a crew. As cruel as it seems, Law can be rash about things. Finding love is something he doesn’t want to lose, but he’s losing it already.

“Shit.”

The two are not heartless like Law. Penguin nods at his crew mate, knowing what they have to do.

“Look we didn’t know that was he’s aiming for your ship. Maybe if we can talk to him, we can knock some sense into him.”

“So that was his plan along. . . I see now. . .” Luffy felt his heart sting a little. That’s the reason he didn’t want him going outside. He was going to kill his crew and wipe his shit under the rug. Now he’s angry. He won’t forgive him for this. “I’ll stop him myself.”

“Luffy, wait!” They call out for him, but it’s too late. He’s gone.

“This won’t end well. . .”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖౨ৎ.𖥔 ݁ ˖-`♡´-.𖥔 ݁ ˖౨ৎ.𖥔 ݁

“Bepo get the missiles ready for departure.”

“Law!”

He turns around. “Luffy? What are you doing here-" Then a cold hard punch to face knocks him to the sandy beach.

“Captain!” Bepo screams in shock. The rest of the Heart Pirates stop to observe the commotion. The polar bear was about to barge in, but Jean Bart stopped him. "Hold on Bepo, let them settle this."

The stunned vampire rolled to his side and wiped the blood off his lips. He looks at his bloody hand and back at Luffy. The straw hat’s eyes glare at him in fury.

“Why?” Luffy coldly states.

“Tsk. You didn’t have to hit me you know.”

“Why?”

Law glares at him before standing back on his feet. He grabs his sword and places it over his shoulder. His leopard hat covers his eyes as he stares at sand he stands on.

“Answer me Law. I know everything.”

“I won’t let you leave,” he mumbles.

“Well, I made up my mind.” He pivots away, marching off to find a raft to depart from the island.

Law grits his teeth and clutches onto the base of the sword. “Where are you going?” he voices out.

“Away from you.”

“No. I command you to stay put.”

Luffy stopped his tracks and turned around. “Over my dead body.” Stomping his foot on his ground, he hints for a challenge.

“Tsk. You really don’t know what I’m capable of Luffy.”

“Okay, show me what you got," he asserts, walking towards him.

His red eyes shift to Luffy. He smiles at him. “Well, if it’s a fight you want. . . I’ll give you one.” In a swift movement he takes out his blade and prepares for an attack.

As he goes to swing, a blade intercepts, throwing it off to the side.

“Why you.” The vampire growls, snapping his neck to face the person.

“Zoro!” Luffy jolts in joy and runs to his first mate, embracing him. “When did you get here?”

“It reeked of bloodlust. What mess have you gotten yourself into?” He says, his eyes not leaving the attacker.

The vampire clutched his hat in annoyance, watching his mate throw himself on the unknown man left a sour taste in his mouth.

“How dare you interject in our matter,” He spat out, throwing his hat on the ground.

“Uh, Luffy. . . who is that?” Zoro questioned, lifting his swords up for battle.

Luffy let’s go of Zoro. “Oh, that’s-“

But before he could answer Law created a room.

“Shambles.”

A boulder is thrown at Zoro, who easily dodges it.

“Oh, this is getting exciting. Hey slanky branch, pick up your sword and fight like a real swordsman!”

The two smirk, riled up from a strong opponent.

“Wait, guys-" Luffy tried to get their attention, but nothing is getting through them.

“I’ll slaughter you into pieces,” Law hissed out.

Zoro’s eye widened at the sharp fangs. “Vampire. . ?” He grins. “Perfect.”

Law used telekinesis to levitate his sword at him. He picks up a small rock, throwing up in the air and he grabs it firmly in his palm. “Get ready, I won’t hold back.” Then he throws it at Zoro and before he could blink, the vampire was right in front of him.

“Holy sh-“

He swings the long blade at him. Zoro easily counters it with his two swords. He blocks it with great force, being slightly pushed back. The two are repelled backwards, analyzing each other’s strength.

“Huh, I guess I will be needing Wado Ichimonji after all.”

“Zoro wait!”

“What?!”

With Zoro looking away for a second, Law takes his chance to strike him. He barely dodges the attack.

“Law stop it! Zoro stay back!”

Zoro grunts, hesitant to pull back from the fight. “Fine,” he huffs, putting his swords in the sheath.

Luffy stands before the vampire, who is clearly enraged. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Captain!” Bepo wraps his arms around Law, picking him up from the ground. “Control yourself. You don’t want to hurt your mate, do you?”

Law snaps out of his bloodlust and turns his gaze at Luffy. “Fuck, what have I done.” His mate’s eyes are sharp, but soften. He turns away and heads towards Zoro.

“Bepo what happened?” Shachi exclaimed.

The Heart Pirates surround their captain, confused at the chaos at the coast. Bepo continues to squeeze Law, holding him in place. That’s when they notice Zoro and immediately up their guard.

“Luffy do you know this guy?” Penguin says, holding a long sharp rod.

“Hm? Oh, he’s my first mate.”

“Wait like mate or crewmate?”

Luffy bursts out in laughter. “You guys are funny.”

Law gave a nasty glare at Zoro and on the other hand, the swordsman yawns, unsatisfied with the fight. The vampire tries to wiggle out of Bepo’s arms, but the bear continues to put up a fight. He could easily break out of his hold; however, he would lose self-control. Law forced himself to resist his violent instincts.

“Hey, Luffy!”

“Huh?” The straw hat whips his head to the sea. It’s his ship, docked near the Polar Tang. Usopp waves alongside side Chopper from the rails of the deck.

Sanji jumps out of the ship and runs towards his captain. “Luffy you’re alive! Zoro jumped into the ocean without warning as we approached this island.”

Zoro scoffed. “Unlike you I’m always prepared for a fight.”

“What did you say? At least I didn’t recklessly jump overboard without knowing the situation!”

The two bickered as another voice caught his attention. “Luffy!” The red head girl uppercuts him on the jaw and banged his head to the ground. “Where have you been?! Did you know how much trouble we went to find you?!”

“Oh Nami. . .it’s nice to see you too,” he whimpered out, dropping his face onto the hot sand.

Law felt himself twitch. How dare this woman abuse his mate. “Don’t lay your filthy hands on him,” he growled. His red eyes appear once again, the struggle to contain him collapsed.

“Um guys, help!” Bepo said anxiously.

“Luffy who is that?” Nami said jolting back.

Penguin dropped his weapon and ran to help the bear. “Restrain him!” he yelled. Shachi and the rest of the crew circle around him and try to hold the angered vampire.

Usopp and Chopper hide behind Robin on the deck of the ship. Franky, Brook, and Jinbe approach the scene, lost at the chaos unfolding on the beach.

“Woah, what did I miss?” Franky said, taking his sunglasses off.

Jinbe walked next to Robin. “If I’m not mistaken. . .we’re in deep trouble if they set him loose.”

“Yes. We must stay alert,” Robin says, squinting her eyes at Law.

The Heart Pirates do their best to restrain their feral captain. He snarls at them, his fangs drawing dangerously close at them. Zoro watches the scene and turns to Luffy, waiting for a command.

“Say, what’s the deal with all of this? I thought he wanted to kill you? Now he’s gone mad after Nami smacked the shit out of you.”

Luffy only sighs. “It’s a long story, but we’re mates.”

“Mates? We have a new crewmember?”

“Uh, not exactly. . .”

“Well what do you mean Luffy? I don’t understand anything, why is he coming after me? You better do something!” Nami yells at him.

Law finally managed to free himself and lunged towards Nami. Luffy quickly interferes and punches him the gut. He then proceeds to pin him down on the ground. “Get a grip Torao!” He grits his teeth, as Law grunts in pain.

The vampire breaks out of trance and calms down.

“Fuck. I forget how strong you are.”

Luffy continues to hold him down and sits on him. “Why did you attack Nami?”

“Nami? Oh, her. . . she was hurting you.”

“I’m fine. That’s just how she is.”

He only gives him an apologetic nod and turns his gaze away. Luffy sighed deeply. “Why?” There goes that question again.

“Huh?”

“Why would you sink my ship with my crew aboard?”

“Tsk, I knew you would leave if they came back for you.”

“That’s no reason to kill my crew!” he raised his voice. “We could have figured something out, but now. . . I’m not so sure. . .”

Luffy releases him from his pinned state and proceeds to get off of him. Law sits up and grabs his wrist, pulling him towards him. “Mugi. . . don’t go. . .” he whispers out. “I can’t lose you. I’ve lost too many people in my life. I-I’m sorry. . .”

“Torao. . ?”

The vampire doesn’t look at him, his face points down. His hand trembles around his wrist. Luffy can feel the shift in his aura, it’s dark. The feeling of sadness fills his heart. It’s grieving, the human knows the feeling too well.

Law feels a cold breeze brush against his exposed hair. Before he could lift his head up, something covered the top of his head. “Huh?” He feels for it and the rough texture catches him off guard.

Law looks up at Luffy, he no longer wears his hat. “You look good in my straw hat.” That smile, that kind gentle smile. It captivates him. Without realizing, his cheeks glow bright pink.

"Pssst, Penguin, Shachi. . . is he. . . ya know, blushing?" Bepo teases, pointing at their captain. The two men look closely and are taken aback at the scene. They giggle, "Oh my, he is!"

On the other side of the beach, the rest of the Straw Hats join their crew, puzzled by the captains' quarrel and make-up.

"Uh, you guys. . . did you see that?" Usopp said.

Sanji starred in disbelief. "Don't tell me he's with that man. . ." He takes a puff of his cigarette and blows the pungent smoke out his mouth. "Well, I'll be damned."

"Not only that, but he also gave him his hat. He must be someone special," Franky commented. The rest nod in agreement.

Jinbe inspected Law and turned to Robin. "He's a vampire, correct?"

"It seems so. Sharp fangs and violent bursts of anger accompanied by red-shot eyes. . . all describes a vampire."

Chopper and Usopp scream in fear and hide behind them. "V-vampire?! Will he eat us?!" Usopp says, shaking in fear.

"I don't know. . . vampires can have an insatiable appetite, depleting you dry," she says coldly. Usopp's face turns pale.

Zoro only cackles out loud. "I knew it," he grins, almost excitedly.

"Is he dead too? It would be nice not to be the only one," Brook laughs.

It didn't take long for Law to realize that they were being watched by both parties. "What are you looking at?" he growls at Penguin and Shachi, who were fangirling. He hides his face from embarrassment with the straw hat. Luffy only laughs and stretches his arm to grab Law's leopard hat. He places it on his head and turns around to face his crew.

"Oh, sorry for worrying you all this time. No need to be alarmed, Torao won't bite," he flashes a toothy grin.

The Straw Hats look at each other, having little trust with that statement. Their captain jumps on the vampire's back and comfortably sits over his shoulder. "We'll talk later Torao; can you just be nice to my crew for now?" Luffy whispers in his ear. Law grumbles but complies to his mate's request.

"Okay you guys, meet Torao!"

"It's Trafalgar Law," he mumbles under his breath.

Robin gasps, her eyes widen at the revelation. "Are you that Trafalgar Law, the Surgeon of Death, the newest warlord?"

Everyone turns their gaze at Law, who only rolls his eyes.

"Warlord?!" Most of the crew yells out.

Luffy looks down at Law. "What? I didn't know that, that's so cool."

Nami facepalms. "What's wrong with you Luffy? You were hanging out with this man and didn't know this important piece of information. What if he turned you in?"

"Torao wouldn't do that, he's my mate," he grins, wrapping his arms around his neck, almost suffocating him.

Everyone's mouth hangs open at the sight. No way would their captain, the Monkey D. Luffy, would ever date someone, especially someone like Law.

"Oh yeah, meet Law's crew. The Heart Pirates were very nice to me," he says getting off of Law's shoulder and attaching himself over Bepo's back.

Zoro slowly approached the vampire. Law noticed and glared at him. "What do you want?" he mutters with a monotone voice.

"Do you perhaps know Dracule Mihawk, you are a warlord after all."

"No, I do not. Is it because we're both vampires? That's ridiculous." Law intended to be smart about it.

The swordsman didn't take that lightly, but only gave him a grin in return. "Well then, you wouldn't mind finishing our fight. I am curious to see your swordsmanship. It would be good practice, you're vampire and a swordsman like Mihawk."

"Heh, you think I would be light work for you? Think again."

The two men sized each other, but before they could escalate things, Luffy got in-between them. "Torao, didn't I say to be nice?" Law huffed in annoyance and backed away. Zoro did the same.

"Come on Zoro, you can fight him another time, but only if I could join in."

"Fine."

Luffy hugged him and picked him up off the ground. "I'll give him the last blow, he's pretty strong ya know."

Law locked his jaw, not only were they planning on ganging up on him, Luffy seems very fond of that man.

"I'm pretty strong too Luffy,” Zoro snapped at him.

"I know," he grins.

Sanji, feeling left out, joins in. “Hey, I can take on that vampire too!”

“Shut it cook, I called dibs first.”

“Hey! Don’t talk about our captain like he’s inferior to Mihawk, in fact, you guys are not match for him,” Bepo exclaimed.

Zoro could only laugh at that statement. "As if, your captain is the bootleg version of Mihawk. You could say he's practically copying him."

The Heart Pirates become visibly angry. Penguin picks up the rod from the ground and points it at Zoro. "I would be quiet if I were you. Don't forget you're on territory."

The swordsman's face darkened.

“Yeah, you’re on our turf, so why don’t you back off,” Shachi said, throwing a rock at Sanji.

Sanji angrily kicks the rock back at him. “You’re telling us of back off?! Well, we’re not!"

The tension rises between both parties and Luffy feels uneasy at the situation. Law noticed how uncomfortable his mate looked and immediately turned down the bickering from both of their crews.

“All of you shut the fuck up! You’re upsetting my mate.”

Both crews face the angered captain and at Luffy.

"Sorry captain," the Heart Pirates say.

Zoro and Sanji only back away, returning to their crew. "Luffy, are you really okay being with this man?" Jinbe asks as the Straw Hat's eagerly await his response.

"I am," he says firmly.

Usopp and Nami were about to protest but were cut off from Zoro. "He said he is okay with it,"—he proceeds to head back to the ship— “I'll be taking a nap if you need me."

Luffy watched as his first mate departed to the Sunny and sighs, "Look, I know we all started on the wrong foot, but me and Law are together now. We have to find a way to get along."

The vampire furrowed his eyebrows. "Pirates do not get along."

"But Torao," Luffy whines, giving him puppy eyes.

There he goes again, enchanting him with those brown doe eyes, he knows his weakness. Law could only grunt, "Fine, but I don't promise you anything."

Luffy hugs him. "Thank you."

"So, what now?" Bepo stands besides Law and tilted his head for a response. The vampire looked at his crew and back at the Straw Hats. Great, more people. This was supposed to be his solitary paradise.

"Let's head to the castle. We'll figure something out."

"What, a castle?!" Chopper stoked in excitement.

Luffy cackled at this reaction. "Wait till see you what's inside. Come on, follow me."

The Straw Hats follow their captain, their eyes not leaving the vampire as they walked by. Law could care less about what they thought of him, he only cared about Luffy. Still, his mate will not be fond of him being rude.

"Tsk."

Law follows after them, with this crew already ahead of him. He takes one last look at Zoro, who watched him like a hawk. It would not be easy for avoid further confrontation, but something about the swordsman ticked his nerves. He put aside the thought and prepared to interact with the rest of the Straw Hats. His hell was about to commence.

[avatar-saiki]

The Birth of Paradox

Pt. 1 - Diavolo's Youth and Pact with Barbatos

Word Count: 5.9k

TW: Mentions of and portrayals of death

Summary: A different sort of work from me this time! I really want to try expanding my skills and showing the world building I love to do, so please enjoy my AU, a retelling of The Back Story of Obey Me in my own way.

Written in young Diavolo's POV

“Hurry up, boy. Keep moving.”

“Coming, father!”

As the duo trekked through the underbrush of the forest, the young fairy’s eyes couldn’t help but wonder yet again. He couldn’t remember when they’d started their journey, and had no real way of knowing just how far they had traveled. All he had to go by was the changes in the shapes of the land, sometimes the ground was full of rocks, sometimes it was soft and sandy. Sometimes the rocks grew large, piling up as the land rose to the sky, disappearing high into the clouds. Now it was dense and lush, trees and greenery surrounding them, encompassing them in cool shade and soothing the burn of the high sun.

So far it had been now; nothing seemed familiar at all anymore. And his feet hurt. All this walking and climbing, hardly pausing a moment more than to catch his breath or a quick drink whenever his father pointed out a nearby stream. It was tiresome, and whenever he looked up at the broadness of his father’s back, his hope that their journey would come to an end dwindled even more little by little.

He chewed on his lip, doing his best to silence the tired sigh that ached to escape, but with his thoughts elsewhere, his feet pressed onward. Or rather, they should have, if not for the stray tree root that caught him by surprise and sent him tumbling forward, just barely catching himself on his hands and knees before face-planting in the dirt.

“This way now,” his father said, hardly turning around to glance at him as he lifted a branch to clear the way. “Don’t dawdle.”

“S-Sorry, father!” He said, scrambling up and rushing forward to duck underneath, eager to not displease him further. He’d already been scolded for suggesting flying might be faster. His father had never liked flying ever since he was little, even if it might make it easier to travel and all the fairies in the village had taken to it. It never made sense to him, and it always looked like so much fun to be so carefree and happy in the sky.

Even with the recent scoldings still fresh in his mind, curiosity still played with his thoughts. He chewed his lip again, wanting the thoughts to disappear while he waited for his father to take the lead once more and guide him through the forest, but the question slipped out anyway.

“Where… are we going, father? We’ve never gone this far before.”

“Away,” was the noncommittal response he received, and the sigh he’d tried to hold accidentally slipped out. Anxious, he clapped his hands over his mouth, but his father’s attention was turned toward the dense canopy up above. He waited silently while his father glared up through the trees as if he might see through them, then closing his eyes with a displeased grunt when he found that he couldn’t.

“Day has become much too dangerous,” he added in a lower, gruff tone as he moved to continue on.

“Day?” the boy asked, quickly hopping over a large rock to catch up and keep pace with the larger fae. “But isn’t that where we live?”

His father grunted, “It used to be.”

He frowned, even more confused than before. His father had always told him he must stay in Day, where the sun shined. Where it was safe. Never fly in the sky no matter how many times his friends might invite him.

“I don’t understand,” he admitted softly, more to himself but unable to help thinking aloud.

“You don’t need to,” his father answered, surprising him as he stopped and guided him down a steep hill. “All you need to worry about is following this trail down to the river. We’ll walk along its bank until we reach Night.”

“Night?” The first prickles of fear creeped into the boy’s throat, “B… but you said I was never to-”

His father let out a breath that usually meant he was starting to push the limits of how many questions he could ask in one day, but still his voice was level as he said. “Yes. I know what I said before, but now we are going to Night.”

Fear turned to worry. 

“But what about the others?”

“They’ll… go wherever they wish to go,” his father’s voice became softer. “If they wish to go.”

If they wish to go…? He didn’t like the sound of that at all, but his father was on the move again and he had little time to worry about it and began to chew his lip again, remembering. The other fairies they’d invited to come along on their journey hadn’t seemed so… restless as his father had. Some had even laughed when he suggested going to Night. They’d complained of it being too dark and cold, much too far away to fly let alone walk.

But it’d seemed so important to father even as the fairies laughed and teased. A few elder fairies had even offered to let him stay while his father traveled on his mysterious quest alone, but… he couldn’t disobey. Not when he saw the strange light in his father’s eyes.

With all his worrying, he nearly missed the gentle burbles of water rushing over rocks that tickled at his ears. Excited, he rushed passed his father down the grassy hill, following the sound and paying little heed to the calls at his back. Finding rivers was easy! He’d done it plenty of times himself while the other children explored the treetops.

Once at the bank he grinned so big and wide, throwing out his arms and looking up at the clear blue sky. “We found it!” 

His father merely grunted and lightly smacked the back of his head before kneeling down at the river’s edge. “Don’t run off too far,” he scolded and the boy rubbed his head, pride abashed.

“Sorry…” he mumbled softly.

He watched as his father leaned forward and scooped water in his cupped hands, drinking deep and slow. 

“Take a moment to rest,” he ordered. “Drink.”

He nodded and quickly dropped to his knees, eagerly mimicking his father’s actions. After a few mouthfuls, the chill of water sliding down his throat sobered his thoughts and he began to wonder how far away he was from his friends now. How far he was from home… from everything he’d known so far.

His hands fell to his lap and he stared at the water distantly.

“Finished?” His father asked, and he bit his lip.

“Can I rest a bit longer?”

Not knowing how far they had come made the thought of moving even further away from his friends begin to weigh on him and he sat down, tucking his knees up under his chin, hugging himself instinctually as shivers began to stir. What if they never wished to follow?

“Just… just for a little bit?”

He kept his eyes on the water, watching the sun’s light sparkle and shine on its surface while his father sighed.

“Fine. But there better not be any more questions when we’re on the move again.”

He winced a little, but nodded. “Can I ask them now?”

Another sigh.

“If you must.”

He hugged his knees closer and shifted a little, unsure if he really wanted to ask. “Why do we have to leave? Isn’t Day where it’s safest when the sun is up high?” The memories were so faint now, but a sense of warmth touched his heart whenever he remembered her voice telling him to watch the skies and to never venture too far from the tree they called home. The tree that was so, so far away now. Would he ever be able to return to it again?

“Not always,” his father said, irritated. He crossed his arms and leaned back against a tree. “It wasn’t so bad when all we had to deal with were the harpies, but now that the dragons have grown more bold there’s less resources to go around.”

“But…” He scrunched up his brows. “The dragons don’t eat what we do.”

“No, but they eat the harpies and our kin if they can catch us.”

He shivered and hugged himself tighter, not liking how dry his father had said that. “So… the dragons will…” He couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud.

“Not if they’re smart,” his father said, the dry edge softening a little. “Less mouths to feed may help some. Gathering food will be riskier as the dragons expand their hunting grounds, but if they’re smart they’ll manage.”

If they’re smart.

He shivered yet again and stared at the water, no longer finding beauty in the rays of light that danced across its surface.

“That’s why we’re going to Night,” he said sadly, realizing he’d probably never see his friends again. No one would ever travel to Night without reason, and even then, why leave the warmth and comfort of Day?

His father nodded. “Dragons refuse to enter Night, they need the heat and light of Day to survive.”

“Really?” he couldn’t help but perk up at that, looking up at his father. “There’s no dragons in Night?”

His father shook his head and hope began to warm his very soul. He pushed himself up to his feet, eyes alight. “That means I could fly!” He threw his arms up to the sky and spun around with a laugh, latching onto the warmth to soothe the hurt that threatened to seep into his heart.

“Settle down, boy,” his father said, pushing off the tree and starting the journey anew. “There is still danger in Night. Danger that we do not know.”

A sulk replaced the small smile that had formed, and he slowly lowered his arms. “Is that why no one wanted to come with us?”

“Seems so,” his father answered, looking over his shoulder. “That is there decision. We’ve made ours.”

He hesitated, glancing back toward the way they had come and searching the trees as if he might see them rushing to catch up. He opened and closed his fists a few times, the ache beginning to pulse in his chest with every beat of his heart. What if he just—

“Hurry up now,” his father said, already paces away. “Don’t dawdle.”

“Y-Yes, father!” he said quickly, sprinting along the riverbank to catch up with the larger fae’s strides.

———

Life in Night was so different compared to living in Day. The air was always cool if not cold, the sky forever dark with twinkling stars that did little to illuminate the ground below. The creatures that dwelled here were either more secretive or hostile, but if one were to survive in a place where it was rare to see far beyond direct line of sight, who could really blame them? The boy had grown well here, or at least as best as he could, learning to become familiar with the ways of Night and how to watch for the subtle glow of a predator’s eyes in the shadows. Vampires and werebeasts hunted much more carefully and stealthily than their counterparts of harpies and dragons in Day, but he found that quick flights were the simplest way to escape their fangs and claws. The only real danger then was his father catching him with wings exposed and reprimanding him yet again for being such a careless fool.

But was it really so careless? It wasn’t the first time he’d taken liberty to ignore his father’s guiding now that he’d matured, and he’d used his skills to familiarize himself with the lands of Night, often finding them food and shelter much faster than blindly wandering along the ground. He’d even managed to spot a few other fairies who had decided to join them over time, and with his father’s lead they set up a new village among the cliffs that overlooked the haunting forest, giving security and comfort at their backs with the rocks and caves they called home.

He’d been reprimanded yet again when he led the fairies to their shelter, his father complaining of more mouths to feed and higher risk of discovery with increasing numbers, but every now and then when his father seemed unaware he was looking he swore he could see a hint of a smile. So he too felt the ache of loneliness and regret at the relationships lost…

That made it worth it, then, no matter how many endless lectures he’d have to bear.

It was that thought among others that convinced himself to keep working harder. Become stronger. Keep searching for more fairies that wished to flee the Day and find shelter in Night. If he just kept working, maybe one day he could see his father smile openly and receive the acknowledgment he so desperately craved.

It was challenging, especially since his father would refuse his requests to join the hunts, citing difficulty moving undetected with more footsteps to cloak or his reactions were too slow. Flying away was too cowardly and dangerous. He was still too whimsical and distracted in his youth, and it made it too difficult to focus on the task at hand. All things that added to his frustrations, but if his father would insist on hunting alone then so would he. He would provide for their expanding numbers and become strong enough to protect them, just as his father did.

And if he wasn’t permitted to fly, he would learn to fight. A fairy’s grasp on mana might not be as fierce as a dragon’s, or as sharp as a harpy, but even so there was magic within the possibility. In the same way fairies would harness the mana to give themselves wings, he found he could focus his intentions in other ways. Wishing to run faster meant his strides carried him farther. Wishing to protect and guard caused his weapons to last and break less often, sometimes even increasing how often he’d hit vital spots and reduce injury to himself. After much trial and error, he found the spear worked best for what he needed, allowing him to sprint into the fray and retreat while keeping distance between himself and razor-sharp claws and fangs.

So long as he kept his intent clear in his heart, he was confident he wouldn’t fail. Soon he became the primary hunter for the fae, leading expeditions and traveling on his own to help feed those too young to fight alongside him. At first his father seemed annoyed, sometimes even angered, but little by little he’d grace the smallest nods of approval his way, and it motivated him to keep pressing on and make the most of this new life in the dark.

Even in the coldest moments of Night, the warmth that came from caring for his peers carried him on. It was a simple life, and the memories of Day grew more distant as time passed. If nothing other than idle regrets of friends left behind, was there any reason to deny himself a sense of peace once more? To let himself feel content to live with the simple woes that had become somewhat routine?

He’d thought not as he hefted a boar he’d chased into Dusk, the lands bordering between Night and Day, upon his shoulders and turned to head back toward home. Yes… home. It’d been a while since he’d felt a sense for that word, but that’s what their little settlement had become. 

Home.

He smiled to himself and hurried on, eager for the praises and celebrations of another meal roasting over the fire. So many fairies were growing bigger now, perhaps one day he could lead them on a journey and teach them how to forage carefully while the werebeasts slept.

Or at least… that’s what he would’ve planned to do next to help his father, but as he took care to climb up the winding path toward home something… didn’t feel right.

The bonfire was lit, celebrations of the birth of a new fairy still in the air but there were no cheers. No laughing. He furrowed his brow and quickened his pace, rounding the bend and catching the firelight in his eye before the first wave of nausea hit him.

His knees nearly buckled and he gasped out, covering his mouth and nose. This scent… it was… 

Fairy’s blood.

He swallowed thickly, dropping the boar and leaving it as his back as his knees began to shake. The air felt thick and heavy, each breath clinging to his throat and clogging his lungs. Why… why was this scent so… so… familiar…

The wails of the young and frightened rang out across the Night, and he braced himself against stone, willing himself to see clearly, but the world was tilting, shifting, swirling around. 

It was familiar.

Too familiar.

Why was it familiar?

“You wretched beast!” His father’s shouts cut through the air, and a roar reverberated across the stone, sending tremors rocking through his body.

Move.

“Father…?” He croaked weakly, looking beyond the hill as the world still spun, only the glow of the firelight to guide him.

He had to move.

Had to help him.

“Damn you, foul beast! Get back!”

Another cry and wailing scream of a beast unknown.

“I-I’m coming!” He said, his words so weak and soft he hardly heard them himself as he scrambled up the rocks. No. Not again. Please don’t take father too—

Blood and ash smeared across the cavern, so many friends lying broken and bleeding upon the ground. Immediately he lost his stomach, doubling over as blurry vision just managed to catch sight of his father wielding a spear and fighting off some shadowy fiend towering over the flames. It roared and snapped at the spear, and his father leapt back, turning briefly when he’d heard him.

Their eyes met and he opened his mouth, trying to speak again. 

“F… fah…” 

“Get back!” His father shouted, turning his attention to the monster and lashing out with the spear. “Go! Now! Get out of here, all of you!”

He blinked through the haze, tongue numb and throat tight as his mind struggled to process what it was seeing. Blood dripped from the creature’s mouth, but it didn’t appear wounded. He feared he might lose his stomach again, but he forced it down and made himself stay standing. Not now. 

At his father’s orders, the few remaining fled to the skies or trees, but a few lingered, left in shock, wailing and crying out the names of those who no longer seemed they could answer.

This… wasn’t right.

He took a half step forward, unable to accept what he was seeing.

“Dragons don’t enter Night,” he said dumbly, staring at the twin-tailed beast as it reared its head and snapped at one of the fairies fleeing, narrowly missing their legs.

“They need the heat and the sun of Day.”

His father stumbled back a few steps but managed to keep his footing and looked back again. “What are you doing?! Run, Diavolo!”

Run?

He stared blankly back as the word rolled over in his mind, eyes caught in the cold teal that stared back at him. Where could he run? And why?

“Didn’t you hear me, boy!” His father spat, “I said RUN!”

Still he couldn’t move, watching as the wyvern took the opportunity to lunge at this father’s back, mouth agape and ready to swallow him whole.

“Look out!” He yelled, acting on instinct and rushing forward. Why? He hadn’t an idea, and even he had there was no way he’d reach his father in time.

And yet… somehow the wyvern seemed to pause, its eyes watching him as he scooped a spear off the ground and let out a cry, hurling it toward the wretched thing. It was futile, he knew it. A dragon’s hide was nothing like a boar or deer, covered in thick armored scales, but if he just focused his mana maybe he’d get lucky and wound it enough to distract it. All he needed was one chance. Just a little more time to reach him.

The spear struck true and pierced its eye, breaking the chilling trance as the wyvern reared back with an angered roar. A chance had been granted, and Diavolo took it with gratitude as he rushed toward his father.

“Hurry,” he said, reaching out for his arm. “Let’s—”

“What are you doing?!” His father snapped, shoving him away. “Get out of here, you idiot!”

Stunned, he said, “But father, we—”

“I said go!” He snarled, turning to face the beast as it lashed and writhed, twin tails striking the bonfire and sending burning logs scattering as it threw its head side to side, trying to shake the spear free.

“But—”

“Dammit, Diavolo! GO!”

A protest lingered on his lips, but he didn’t have the chance to utter it as the wyvern snarled, turning its attention to its prey as blood dripped from the thorn in its eye.

He swallowed thickly, meeting its singular gaze.

No… not prey.

Revenge stared back at him as teal mana crackled between its jaws.

“Don’t make me repeat myself again,” his father hissed under his breath, moving to position himself between the beast and Diavolo. “If you don’t get moving, I’ll kill you before that thing does.”

He tore his gaze from the wicked eye to gaze at his father’s back, wanting to ask him to follow, but the man’s stance was tall and proud. There was no room for question or negotiation, so, like a coward he turned his back with tears burning in his eyes and ran down the hill where he’d come, hoping to make distance before taking to the skies. 

It took everything in him to not turn back when the wyvern let out another mighty roar, shaking his very being to the core, but still he ran, fighting the stinging in his eyes as his vision blurred once more.

He’d be fine.

His father was strong.

One of the strongest fae he’d ever known. 

He’d see him again, he was sure of it.

It wouldn’t be like last time. 

Last time, when—

Wait. 

Last time?

He inhaled a shaky breath and willed his wings to form, taking to the skies in desperate flight. 

That sense of familiarity was stirring again, shaking his limbs and threatening to take hold and pull him down into the inky black of confusion and fear. Again he forced those thoughts down. He didn’t have the luxury to think about them right now, he needed to gain distance. To find someone that could return with him and help save his—

Heavy wingbeats snapped him out of his train of thoughts and he looked down to see the shadow of the wyvern approaching, its scales as cool as the Night and nearly making it invisible in the sky.

His father was right.

He really was an idiot.

He dove down and banked to the right, attempting to gain better sight of the creature while keeping distance, but a fairy was no match in the sky that was the wyvern’s domain. Only the briefest glimpses of the eerie glow of its eyes gave hint of where it might be lurking, and with one already forced shut such hints were rare.

Still, he had to try.

He might not be as fast in distance, but he could still twist and turn quicker than the larger beast. Even if the wound he’d inflicted took away some ability to track the thing, it did give him some advantage. He did his best to keep to its blindspot, twisting and turning to fool the creature until it might give up and he could sneak away. Maybe… if he were lucky he might even lure it away further, then he could return to his father and help save any remaining fae who hadn’t already fled.

It was a naive, greedy thought, but one that gave his heart a brief sense of hope as he let himself drop yet again, narrowly escaping the snapping of sharp fangs.

Yes.

He may never be as strong as his father, but this was something he could do.

He had to.

The wyvern let out an angered roar and he stole a glance back toward home. Were they far enough away? Could he make it back in time before the beast realized? No, just a little further. A little more…

He sucked in a breath and took a chance to gain ground, climbing as high and fast as his wings would carry him to bait the creature to follow. It was risky, but an angered beast wouldn’t think clearly, its frustration and pain dulling its senses. He could use that to his advantage, he just had to keep pushing. 

Just a bit further and—

He let out a startled cry, body locking in shock and pain as fangs snapped tight around his leg, his wings faltering as he fell back and dangled, caught in its jaws.

“Let me go!” He cried, forcing himself up to punch at its maw as it steadied itself in the sky.

“Bastard!”

Useless.

“Let go!”

The beast swallowed, tasting him.

“Dammit! Let me go!”

It was useless. A beast like this had no mercy. Tears began to sting, and he looked around, the ground so far away. No one else was in the sky nearby. No one around at all. Was he the last? No, no, he couldn’t be. He couldn’t give up now. He had to—

This blood.

He froze, feeling an alien presence creep into his mind and slide across his thoughts so easily as if it belonged there.

This blood. It repeated. It has been a long time since I have tasted this blood.

Again the beast swallowed and he bit back a cry of pain as its fangs sank deeper into his leg.

“Y-You… can talk?” he hissed through gritted teeth, digging his nails into its scales to keep himself from dangling uselessly. Dammit… he couldn’t pull out his leg in this hold, but there had t b something he could do.

A cold wave of amusement washed over his mind, but before he could grasp it the wyvern dove down, ripping a scream from his throat as the ground came rushing forward at terrifying speed. It landed with a crack of stone under its feet, and held its prey tight.

Of course I can talk.

“Damn you! Let go of me!”

I cannot.

“Why?!” He gasped for air, blinking back stars as his vision blurred from the rush and pain. 

You are my prey.

“Greedy lizard,” he cursed, punching it weakly at the jaw. “Wasn’t there enough for you in the Day? Why here?”

There was not. I require more.

“You… awful…” He blinked back tears and punched again, but he may as well have been a small kitten batting at a bear with how little the wyvern seemed to mind. “Dammit.”

Another wash of amusement graced his mind, sending his thoughts rolling and threatening to lose him to delirium.

Do you presume to know what I require?

He grunted and chanced a glance around, but everything was too far and blurry. No allies… No weapons… Nothing was here to help save him now.

“There’s plenty of food to be had in the Day,” he hissed, anger coloring his words at the thought of friends long left behind. “You can’t convince me you’ve eaten it all.”

But I have. Was the reply.

“Impossible,” he whispered, both a denial and refusal to accept it. 

Warm blood dripped down onto his stomach and he looked up to see the spear still lodged in its eye, another chance at hope touching his soul.

It is possible. And now I will consume Night.

The absurdity and loss of blood stole a laugh from his throat, and a curious glimmer touched his mind.

Does that amuse you?

“Only if you’re a fool,” he said.

A fool? Its jaw tightened around his leg, making him wince and grit his teeth. I am no such thing.

The pain threatened to take hold of what little remained of his vision and sense, but still he pressed on. “I you eat all there is in Day and Night, there will be nothing to eat at all.”

Another amused touch graced his thoughts, an odd contrast to the pain that battled to take hold.

That is not true.

He steeled his nerve and attempted to reach, fingers just brushing the wood but failing to take hold. Damn.

“Sure it is,” he said, trying to buy more time. “What would you eat next? The rocks?”

A sudden bob of its head rocked him and he bit back a curse, fearing he might’ve been caught before the words touched his mind again.

The rocks. The trees. The rivers. The seas. I will consume it all until I am able to swallow the sun.

His… body felt so tired now… holding himself up was all he could manage.

“You’re mad,” he gasped out, looking up at the spear that seemed to only move further and further away.

Perhaps. Perhaps not.

This creature may be one that could speak, but there was not reasoning to be found.

“But if you eat all there is in this world, there will be nothing left. What then?”

I will find another world to devour.

He forced a laugh, hollow and dry. “And if none exists?”

Then I will consume myself.

“Madness,” he repeated under his breath. Truly no sense or reason at all. He looked up at the spear again. Maybe with one final push, if he could just grab it he might have a chance. If not to escape, then maybe at least he could take this monster down with—

You believe you can slay me.

The statement froze his thoughts, but he bared his teeth in a grin as he reached for the spear.

“I know I can.”

Yet another irritating brush of amusement washed over his thoughts.

Many have tried, none have been successful.

“Well, you haven’t met me,” he retorted, steeling his breath and heaving himself up, fingertips brushing against wood.

I cannot be slain.

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

Wish it all you like, it cannot be so.

“Anything can be slain,” he said stubbornly, nearly grasping at it again before the wyvern tipped its head, swinging him back down again. The jostling sent new pain ripping through his leg and he clenched his teeth despite the scream.

Fairies are so amusing. Your mana is so vast yet directionless. How does one use such a power? Nothing manifests without a clear wish.

“What…” Sweat clung to his brow and he let his arms dangle overhead, fatigued. “What does that even mean?”

If you are not clever enough to find the solution, I will not give it.

He grit his teeth, searching the ground for anything else he could use, too tired to try to lift himself up again. Small stones were scattered around its feet. If he could reach them, maybe he could infuse them and pelt the damn beast into submission.

A pity. Thought the wyvern. I would have thought the bearer of this blood would be more promising.

“Shut up!” He snapped. “Why did you have to come here at all? Why can’t you just leave!”

Why, indeed.

He growled under his breath, irritated the damned lizard seemed to know more than it let on. It was toying him, he knew that, but still if it was giving him a chance why not take it? Surely he could think of something to turn the tide later.

If only he were his father…

His father…

His father had known this wyvern, hadn’t he?

“If you can’t be slain, then I’d send you somewhere else,” he said, glaring at the ground. Somewhere cold, dark, and empty. Void of any life at all. Let the monster rot in an abyss for all he cared.

Do you believe that to be possible?

His eyes began to sting again.

“Yes,” he murmured, needing it to be so.

The wyvern’s mouth opened and he fell abruptly, hitting the ground with a cry and rolling onto his side. 

“What—”

Before he could grasp what was happening, the wyvern pinned him underfoot, its eye baring down deep into his soul.

Do you believe you can take me to another world?

An icy chill ran through his veins, numbing any pain his body might’ve felt.

“…Yes,” he whispered, staring deep into its cold teal eye, its light not unlike the algae that glowed over the sea in the night.

One where I can always consume and never hunger?

This time he hesitated, the thoughts of sending the beast to all sorts of worlds unkind and unfriendly in his mind. The beast pressed him further into the ground, stealing his breath and making it harder to breathe.

“Y-Yes!” he gasped out selfishly. Whatever it took to get the beast to leave this world alone. Let it become another world’s problem.

The beast’s thoughts were quite a moment, then its maw split into a menacing grin.

Take me there, and I might spare you.

He swallowed, reaching to grab at its talons in a feeble attempt to remove its weight so he could take in a breath. Surprisingly, it eased, but only just enough.

“Why… would I do that?” he gasped out, and the wyvern tilted its head with a mischievous glow in its eye.

Do you not wish to save this world? And those that inhabit it?

He laughed weakly, “Is there anyone left to save?”

To his surprise, the wyvern nodded. 

For now, but my hunger is never-ending.

Perhaps it was delirium that gave him strength now, for he smiled wryly and said.

“So you want me to send you to another world you can devour instead?”

If you cannot imagine such a world that will satiate me, then yes.

He tsked, glaring up at the wyvern. Even now it still felt the need to mock him.

“But if I imagine a world that will keep you fed?”

I will spare you. 

“No,” he growled under his breath. “Don’t count me for a fool, I have no reason to trust that would be enough for you.”

Again its maw opened in a menacing grin.

How quickly you become clever. It said.

He barked out a laugh and held its gaze. If it believed he had such a power, then it must be so. And if not? Well then he may still find a way to take this monster down with him.

“If you swear to obey me, then I’ll take you there.”

It tilted its head slightly, curious.

Obedience? Is that the term you have set?

“Yes,” he hissed under his breath.

The two stared at each other, its slitted pupils tugging on the edges of familiarity, and he was almost certain he’d met this wyvern before, long, long ago.

Very well, then. It lifted its weight off him, finally giving him space to breathe. If it will be as you say, I will agree, however…  So slick and sweet the words rolled over his mind, sending chills throughout his body as he pushed himself up onto his elbows, greedily gasping in air. The wyvern lowered its head again, flashes of teal crackling in its mouth.

Should you ever fail to keep me fed, know that you will become my next meal, Young Master.

[fieldofdaisiies]

Ars Amatoria | ch. XIV

-all rights reserved-

Elucien AU word count: 2,9k words warnings: none

masterlist

A week has passed. A week where Elain has not once left Lucien’s side for longer than twenty minutes. She always watched the medica closely when she tended to Lucien’s wounds, fed him when food was brought to their chamber helped him dress and also helped him wash. 

“And I still remember how Mamma always used to say that I am the troublemaker and then it was Eris who puked right in front of Cardinal Mosca's feet.” 

Elain is bending over, laughing, tears forming in her eyes. “I think, even in Rome, you could smell the alcohol in his breath. Papa was disappointed, but Mamma was scandalised, and so ashamed, she made him clean the whole family home and that for the a whole month.”

Elain cackles loudly, nearly choking on the grape she has just swallowed, always handing one to Lucien as well while eating. At first he has taken them for her fingers with fingers. At some point, this has changed, not taking them with his fingers anymore but with his lips. And with each grape he softly nips on her finger tips, only brushing them, but it does things to Elain’s body. Goose bumps rise on her skin when his tongue pokes out a little, softly flicking against the tip of her index finger, and Lucien swallows the grape. She feels her toes curl on the mattress and something low in her belly tighten — an unknown feeling she is not used to. 

“You look beautiful today, Elain.” Lucien grins. “Well, you always look beautiful, but today, with your hair down and not so tightly pulled back… you truly could be Venus.” 

A delicate flush of color paints Elain's cheeks, covering her complexion with a gentle, rosy glow. And God, does Lucien loves this. And her. His eyes widen a little as awareness fills his entire being and good God, it is true. He is so very much falling for his wife. This wonderful, lovely woman, who has somehow managed to sweep him of his feet with just her…kindness and respect and loyalty. And with just her being her. She is beautiful on the outside, but a masterpiece on the inside. His gaze lingers on her, as every fiber of his body starts to scream for Elain, his heart pounding erratically in his chest, doing one happy flip after the other. 

“Why don’t you go outside a little? You have been in this room with me for a week. You love the garden and nature, please, I am fine. Go outside, if only for ten minutes and enjoy the time outside.” He looks at her almost like he is begging her to follow his suggestions. “Eris will anyway be here in a few minutes to join me on the way to the medicus. I will also quickly check in with Jurian afterwards. You could come there as well?” Lucien suggest and Elain doubts this is a good idea. 

The wound has not fully healed, but Lucien acts like it does not exist anymore. Men…she thinks, but tells him that this is a good idea and they should do this. 

While he goes to the see the healer she will spend a little time in the family garden and then go to Jurian. 

She dons a thin tunic over her sleeveless dress and leaves simultaneously with Eris and Lucien. The latter brushes his hand over her head and smiles before he whispers a goodbye which Elain happily returns. 

Still grinning, she takes the staircase that leads to the library. She has gotten used to the huge house. At least a little bit and she is really starting to like it. A lot actually. Before going to the gardens she wants to pick up a book — a book that might be necessary sooner or later and one she really wants to have a look into. She easily finds it, clasps it tightly in her hands and returns it to their shared bed chamber before finally heading outside. 

Elain wanders through the garden for a while, collecting flowers to make a bouquet. A bouquet she can then place in their shared bedroom. Or the living room. Or the dining room. 

Oh! Maybe she will just make more. 

In silent admiration, Elain regards the pruned trees, with the lush green leaves while she walks down the stone path that leads to the archway. She wants to sit down on the stone bench and make her bouquet there. A light breeze rustles through the grass as Elain leans down and watches how a ladybug crawls from one leave to another. She remembers how her hand touched Lucien’s when she let the ladybug climb onto his hand, and has to smile to herself. That was a lovely moment. 

She continues on, her steps light and joyful, until she lets herself fall onto the bench and releases a long and happy sigh. 

Love is a wonderful feeling! 

Elain is about to pick up another another tulip from where she sits on a stone bench when someone clears their throat. Elain whips her head around, wondering if she imagined the noise. The answer comes soon in form of a tall, slender woman with light blond hair and piercing blue eyes sauntering through the archway that leads to the bench Elain is sitting on. Her icy presence immediately fills the whole garden and in the same moment a dark cloud moves over the sun, dimming it and cooling the air around Elain. 

“You are Elain, am I right?” The woman raises a brow, almost like she is looking down at Elain, her voice tinged with something close to annoyance. 

Elain has not once seen Ianthe until now, but she knows that this is her and that they are finally meeting now. Even though her gut feeling is awful, she still decides to give the woman a chance. At least for introductions. 

“I am Elain, yes. You are Ianthe, right?” Elain answers politely and reaches her hand forward. But Ianthe ignores it, just intently watches her without deigning her the shake of her hand. 

“It is quite cute, I have to admit that, Elain.”

Elain furrows her brows, her lips pouted as she shrinks a little into herself. She lowers her gaze to her bouquet and lifts it up a little, pulling on one flower to keep herself busy. 

“What is…cute?” The word tastes like bile on her tongue, and Elain’s brows furrow even further as a sardonic grin spreads over Ianthe’s face. 

“You naivety, Elain. You really think he likes you, don’t you?”

Elain peeks up from behind the bouquet of flowers. Ianthe strolls towards her, her long beige dress waving around her legs. Elain does not answer, not sure what Ianthe’s mission is.

“Don’t get your hopes up too high, girl.” Uninvited, the woman sits down next to Elain on the stone bench and picks up a flower that has fallen out of her bouquet. She twists the rose between her fingers, ignoring the thorns. “He wants to bed you, that is obvious.”

“He is my husband,” Elain answers, not sure what else to say. She has changed her mind, actually she does not want to give her a chance. 

“Yes, he is. On paper. And now he wants to bed you. For his benefit. That is all he can get from this marriage, you know?”

Elain lowers her hands, placing it and her hands in her lap. “It is not.”

Ianthe grins again, gleefully. “It is not?” She pauses and silently regards Elain. “It is what all men want, don’t they? The most primal needs.” 

Elain shakes her head, knowing Lucien is not like that. He would have taken advantage of it in their wedding night if this is truly his intention and the only thing he wants.

“Lucien is not like that.” 

“Is he not?” Ianthe drawls and cocks her head. She purses her lips a little, her voice tinged with fake-kindness. “Lucien is just like that. Just like his brother who desperately wanted to fuck me in our wedding night.” 

Elain cringes at the vulgar wording, her brows laying in furrows. “Now that he can longer have my body, as I won’t allow it, he is going to seek his pleasure, or maybe just release, somewhere else.” Elain does not want to talk to her anymore. She knows this is not the reason why Eris has a lover. Lucien has told her the reasons, but she can’t tell Ianthe that. She can’t reveal this secret. If Eris does not tell her, it is definitely not Elain’s place to do so.

“And Lucien is no different. He even tried to bed me one day. If I hadn’t stopped him, he would have fucked me like his brother.”

Elain’s heart drops into her lower belly, her blood running cold and the bouquet nearly slips out of her damp hands. “That is a lie!” she exclaims, nearly shouting.

“It is not.” Ianthe grins. She is a snake, Elain thinks and really wants to slap her with her bouquet. But instead she gets up and shakes her head. “You are…you are…” “I am what?” Ianthe cocks a brow in challenge, her lips curving in a gleeful way.

“A canker-blossom!” Elain turns on her heels, fury blazing through her veins as she takes the bouquet and tosses it away, right in front of Ianthe’s feet.

"Oh, and, dear Elain," Ianthe calls after her, "just because he is not fucking you yet, does not mean he does not seek his pleasure elsewhere. He has just as many whores as his brother."

Elain is running, escaping, burning tears threatening to roll out of her eyes. She does not believe a single word the woman said to her. She knows Ianthe hurt her husband, she knows Eris’ reasons for having a lover and she…she is so glad she knows all these things because if not, she would have believed Ianthe. And that thought startles her. How much one person can influence someone with just their words. But Elain won’t let these words sink in, she keeps them locked away behind iron gates in her mind. There they should stay forever and rot. 

Golden rays of the late afternoon sun fall onto the rooftops as Elain steps out into the bustling streets of Florence. And as much as she does not want to think about what Ianthe said, there is still this tiny kernel of unease blooming inside of her — did Lucien truly want to sleep with Ianthe? And was that why she later was so rude to him? 

Of course not! Elain thinks. 

Lucien is not like that. He would not do something like that. He is a good man. 

A symphony of sounds fills Elain’s ears, the clattering of horse hooves on cobblestones, chatter and laughter of merchants and people who buy things at the market. She once again relishes the smell of the freshly baked goods and the wood fire. As she walks through the narrow alleyways leading to Jurian’s art studio the scents blend with those of aromatic herbs as well as she freshly cut flowers. Elain inhales deeply and then slowly exhales, her eyes closing for a moment. 

She can trust Lucien, and she can also trust herself with falling in love with him. She does not have to stop herself. She does not have to hold back. And then another thought comes to her — she hasn’t thought about Graysen in nearly two weeks. And this is good. In hindsight, she has to admit that he wasn't a really good man. Not in the way Lucien Vanserra is a good man. 

Elain gazes at the huge buildings, adorned with sculptures and graceful arches before she takes her last turn to head to Jurian’s studio. Walking here, in the now even narrower alleyways, Elain feels like she is on a quest for a hidden treasure, tucked away in those small streets. It is a little cooler here, and a special kind of stillness and calm lies in the air. The chatter she can hear sounds far away. Many artists are situated here. And not only artists but also a weaver she passes before she stops in front of Jurian’s door. 

Elain knocks without a second of hesitation, wondering if Lucien is already here. She hopes so. She really wants to see him now. Really wants to hear his voice and see his beautiful smile. It all will help her forget Ianthe's awful words.

She knocks again when she gets no answer and soon the soft tenor of Jurian’s voice reaches her ear. “Come in!”

And so she does. Hands curling around the handle, she opens the door. But she stops dead in her tracks at the scene that is revealed to her. 

Lucien is sitting on a chair, Vassa on one of his thighs, her hands on his naked chest, one finger lifting the bandage a little bit, gazing at his wound. Jurian is nowhere in sight.

Elain’s heart races like a wild stallion galloping through an open field. Her breathing stops, but she can’t tear her eyes away. Not even when her lower lips starts quavering. Time seems to stretch, Lucien and Vassa not even having noticed her arrival yet. They only do so when Jurian calls her name. 

“Ah, Elain!” he hollers. “Come on in, come on in. Good to see you!” Lucien whips his to the side, towards her, but he does not look shocked. He does not look like he has just been caught with another female leaning over him and him being half naked. He looks…he looks happy to see her.

“My beautiful wife is finally here,” he says in a voice tinged with admiration. His lips curl, his eyes glow, but Elain is rooted to the ground, her mouth parting a little when the tidal wave of everything Ianthe had said to her washes over her and nearly drowns her. Just because he is not fucking you yet, does not mean he does not seek his pleasure elsewhere. He has just as many whores as his brother.

Elain swallows a burning sob that threatens to build up. She reminds herself that Lucien is good. He would not have a lover. But Vassa is so beautiful. So outgoing, so not like her…And she is sitting on his thigh.

Elain steps from one foot to the other and Lucien immediately knows that something is on her mind, that there are thoughts in her mind that plague her. They have only known each other for a short time, but he can read her so well. Lucien, nudges Vassa, signalling to her that she should stand up and she understands. He knows that this could have created a wrong picture and they definitely have to talk about it. He knows exactly that this is the reason for Elain's unease, and he can't even blame her. One could easily draw wrong conclusion from seeing a random female sit on their husband's lap. 

“How are you, Elain?” Vassa asks in her joyful voice as she steps away from the chair. 

Elain forces a small smile onto her lips. “Good,” she says in a silent voice, and finally closes the door behind her. “I hope I am not disturbing you.” 

“You?!” Finally Jurian appears, half his face covered in paint just like his hands. “How would my Venus ever disturb someone.” He grins from one ear to the other and earns himself a reproachful look from Vassa. Now Elain understands nothing anymore. But she also gets no time to do some more thinking or asking any questions. 

Lucien walks up to her, tips his chin and says, “I think it is a good idea to go home now. I know you just arrived here, but you know, it is better to get back home before the sun sets.” Elain also grasps the words that were not spoke. That he has seen her unease and wants to talk to her. “You already want to leave? I thought we start drinking now.” Vassa pouts and dramatically lets herself fall into chair, Lucien had claimed earlier. 

“Another time, Vassa.” Lucien turns to her, smiles and then salutes to both her and the painter leaning against a large shelf. 

Lucien places his hand on Elain’s lower back, carefully pushing her towards the door. “Sorry, for having you come here and then leaving already, but this is more important.” “What is more important?”

The street is still as empty as before, the sun now nearly having set behind the huge buildings. Lucien stops, he turns Elain to him and takes both her hands into his. He leans in, his lips softly brushing her forehead. 

“You are more important, Elain. And for you to understand that what you have just seen is nothing you should be upset about. Vassa is a friend, and nothing more than a friend to me. But she is a lover to Jurian. I don’t want you to read anything into the situation that hasn’t happened. Because for me, there is only you.” 

He smiles when he leans back, but Elain is quicker. She bounces on her toes. Her lips press against his in the next moment, her nose clashing against his cheek, her eyes closing.  

~~~~~~~ taglist AA: @octobers-veryown @velidewrites @areyoudreaminof @acourtofthought @liftyourhipsformelovex @hallway5 @stickyelectrons @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @bibliophiliaxvignette @thelovelymadone @sunshinebingo @arabellatheauthor @autumndreaming7 @nestas-workwife @rarephloxes  @tuzna-pesma-snova general el. taglist: @rippahwrites @shadowhunter2003 @my-inner-crisis @ladyelain @acourtofthought @itwasalwaysaboutthetea @multifictional  @moonlightazriel @aayo-whatt @brekkershadowsinger @sunshinebingo @gracie-rosee @a-frog-with-a-laptop

[keanuquotes]

As Keanu confirms — it started with “Lust,” the title of the seventh song on Dogstar’s Somewhere Between the Power Lines and Palm Trees (releasing October 6), and the first they wrote for the new album. He flashes pages from his spiral-bound notebook, symbols, words, and letters that look more like sanskrit. “The guys call it my hieroglyphics,” he says, of his coded method of keeping track while they’re building a song.

“Sunrise,” the album’s eventual ninth track, came second, and this may be the theme of the whole album, as well as Dogstar’s official return to the music scene after 20 years: warm, bright, hopeful with a heavy dose of pull-at-your-heartstrings nostalgia, as only an authentically alt-rock ‘90s band can do. While internationally their names might not carry the same recognition, within the band, they are the sum of three equally vivid parts: singer-guitarist Bret Domrose, bassist Keanu Reeves, and drummer Robert Mailhouse. It’s this triality that sparks reference to that ancient Greek philosopher who proclaimed the number three the best of all numbers — and the most harmonious.

“I guess it's just who we are. Hey, we're warm people,” Bret jokes with a laugh, and though the ease and deep friendship these three share speaks for itself, the overall grungy-summery sound was actually the overall endgame. Robert credits producer Dave Trumfio for bringing “beautiful, layered, lush, warm tones in combination with what we came up with ourselves.”

“We specifically looked for a vintage Neve mixing console because we wanted that warm, fat '70s sound,” Bret adds, explaining the band’s process of choosing studios based on gear. “Lyrically, I try to keep hope as an undercurrent. Musically…if we go to a dark spot or something, we don't spend too much time there.

“That's just the way we craft songs…with some hope.”

No need to call the new album a comeback. They’ve been plenty busy over the last two decades, keeping in touch and even playing together, as friends — who also happen to be bandmates — do. On this mid-September afternoon, they’re just now back on their Southern California home turf after two shows in Yokohama and Osaka. Ironically, as Bret recalls, it was in Japan where they had their “last” show in 2003, after which they decided to pause. “We came back [from Japan in 2003] and it was just one of those things where we just took a break and then everyone went their own way, different musically, and just expanded and tried different things,” Bret explains. “We always stayed together and we were always friends.”

Time passed and lots changed, namely the industry, and the strengthened climate of artists’ creative control. This time, the guys were determined to be in charge.

“There was just such a machinery that we didn't have to contend with this time,” Bret says, describing the process of creating the new album as a fresh experience. “There was just so much garbage back in the day that now, this time around, we realized, ‘Wow. We could be in charge of this thing. We don't need a record company right now. We can do this all ourselves and we can even release it ourselves, and the music will get heard.’”

This time, Dogstar would focus on the music they wanted to create. “If you're an artist, you're sculpting or painting, you're going to start a new project, you never go, ‘This painting has to be a hit,’” Robert says. “I think all those years that passed really helped in a way because when we got back together, that's exactly what happened. We got into a room and we made sounds, and we started building music without thinking anything other than pleasing ourselves.”

They all agreed: At this stage, they were going to start with songs they liked. They’d create music for themselves. Robert remembers Keanu’s let’s-see-what-happens attitude as a “refreshing” start.

“Roast the chicken and see if it burns,” Bret says with a laugh.

“It's this kind of step-by-step approach…” Robert recalls. “It was like a tasting kitchen...let's try the bouillabaisse.”

“Then at the end, we opened a restaurant,” Bret smiles, carrying the joke.

Keanu leans forward, for emphasis, proclaiming: “Rock ‘n roll!”

“You’ve got the lights…you got the waft of cigarette smoke coming in the back door…it was old-school good times,” Bret says of their July show at The Roxy, “a good, old Hollywood, Sunset Boulevard rock night…you look out five rows into the audience and there’s Steven Tyler dancing. You got that going.”

Their DIY/anti-corporate/non-conformist attitude from the beginning should give a hearty glimpse into why these guys create music. Good. Old Hollywood. Sunset Boulevard. Rock night. That’s Dogstar, in sum, not simply because they were formed in Los Angeles, but because their reputation as a kick-ass live band is eternally fixed, their garage-band inception firmly rooted in their souls and sound.

Keanu agrees that a true garage band is a state of mind. Or heart. “Because we get together and we fucking play music and we start to jam and we start to just play.”

“It’s that same energy, for sure,” Bret agrees. “It's that same energy that you have when you're a kid…when you're starting out and you're doing it for all the right reasons. You don't care if your ears are ringing at the end of the day because you're in too small of a space, your amp is too loud, or whatever it is. All that not caring, that's what makes a good record, I think. That's what makes a cohesion between the band members, too.”

“I think we're a marriage of that,” Keanu says. “Now we're a marriage or an integration of that garage band with caring and trying to keep that spirit of that, but take in our experiences and how we want to care about our music and it works.”

Bret starts: “Yes, I think over the years, we've learned to file off the rough edges a bit and how to use the equipment properly and how to—“

“We're pro now,” Keanu quips, and the guys erupt in laughter.

“We're a pro garage band now!” Bret says.

“The pro garage band,” Keanu says. Everyone is still laughing.

“Thanks to Rob, we have a nicer garage,” Bret says.

From their initial jam sessions up to the actual recording, they’ve managed to preserve that authentically stripped-down “pro garage band” sound on Somewhere Between the Power Lines and Palm Trees. In a world of filters and special effects, they’ve chosen a more honest, old-school route. “Hit songs” are amongst the many words they never mention. “Chart success,” “singles,” and “algorithm” are a few notable others that never come up. That means that the undeniably happy alt-pop riffs on “Everything Turns Around,” as well as the strummy, Manchester-movement-eque “Upside” were unintentional, undeniable (sorry, guys, but someone has to say it) ready-made commercial hits.

And no, not every song sounds like this, that wouldn’t make sense for an album-journey album. “Glimmer” — a moody, swelling alt-serenade — is and should be a live-show staple, its crowd at the ready to sing and sway along with thumb-operated, gas-station-purchased flame lighters.

All that said, the album refreshingly lacks predictability. Take the Eastern-influence break on “Lust,” for instance. “You could hear a sitar…out of nowhere,” Robert says, delightedly, recalling Dogstar’s 1999 performance at the Zee Cine Awards in Mumbai, followed by a “drum-off” on the hotel rooftop, as “the most surreal moment of our lives.” No matter how surreal, there’s no doubt some shred of the experience can be heard on “Lust,” a little over a minute in.

Bret recalls the Eastern-influenced break came out of one of their jam sessions. Keanu looks at his “hieroglyphics” treatise to recount the process, like an ancient scholar: “We have here…we go to Rob's house, there's a verse, and then we go, a disco funk, all-star jam. Then I crossed out “funk,” and then it went to the High A, and then we have the Indian [break] put in there. That's, I guess, where Bret started to go into the Indian influence of holding that A and the tension there…”

Somewhere Between the Power Lines and Palm Trees ends with “Breach,” an unapologetic grinder — to use Bret’s words — “a punctuation mark” at the end of this here-comes-the-sun album journey. This is not the hearts-and-flowers sendoff. It’s more of the wake-the-fuck-up-people sendoff. As Robert says, “we digged in a little harder.” Bret explains that they intentionally ended this journey — the album journey — this way.

“It’s a bit of fun cold water,” Keanu says. “It’s a cliffhanger.”

“This genre, it's a lost thing. If you listen to the radio, things are so different now,” Robert says, describing Dogstar as “just three guys playing their instruments…it's not that complicated…it's not the mainstream anymore like it used to be.”

Through the decades, and after all they’ve been through, they’re idealistic. And you can feel it on the album – raw human emotion, the same that inspired them in their early years. “You can't trick people into believing you,” Bret says, after a passionate citing of some of his most influential musical imprints: Hüsker Dü, the Clash, Elton John.

Honest and inspired, Somewhere Between the Power Lines and Palm Trees fully reflects these three guys, the stories of their lives over the last three decades, and exactly who they are.

“Rock is what keeps you young,” Bret says. “30 years times three guys' lives…that's 90 years of living. That's a lot of shit that could happen, that did happen. It ain't all good and it ain't all bad, but it's all in these songs. It sounds hippie-dippy corny, but there's a little bit of every year of our lives in these songs, I think. In that sense, [it’s] a mature endeavor.”

“This is who we are now,” Keanu says. “We're all over 50. I think to what Robert was saying…the influences that we have are coming through us into how we interpret, but also what we create in the moment. I think that's individually and collectively…that's what Dogstar is. It's like all of these personal things and then us collectively coming out with this music that would not happen if it wasn't the three of us.

“Individually, none of us would write a Dogstar song, but collectively, with who we are as artists and who we are, when we all come together and start to make music together…the sum of the parts is Dogstar.”

[snkts]

🎲 [ also i want the k for gambit hehe ]

39. A tentative kiss

Birds chirped. The wind blew. Overall, it was a calm day. They needed one of those. He was trying to avoid the ‘q’ word, but… It might just fit. The quiet is broken by footsteps sounding behind him. He angles his head in the direction of the noise, but doesn't turn around. He doesn't need to; he knows who that is. It’s Remy. He’s been moving more sure of himself lately. It was good to see. 

“Hey, Cajun.” He says, leaning back against the bench. His posture is relaxed, comfortable. He lets his eyes close as he settles. The sun is nice. He could lie here for an hour or two if he didn't care about scheduling. Maybe he should. Gambit sits beside him and Logan peeks one eye open. The bandages around his eyes look fresh; must’ve just changed them. Back to taking care of himself, too. Whatever the reason for the change, Logan was glad for it. 

“Logan?” Gambit speaks. Logan looks up, one brow arched. Gambit is, at his best, unshakable. Always ready with a quip or a smile. Always oozing confidence. Since he’d lost his sight, that had been different. Understandably so, but still. He’d only recently begun to get that back. “What's it like?” 

To some people, that might be a confusing question. But to them, it has become routine. It meant, describe it to me. Tell me what you see. Let me know what I’m missing. 

What’s it like? 

“The trees finished growing all their new leaves. They’re all full and lush now, lots of green. Making a lot of nice patches of shade on the ground. Some of the kids are sitting in ‘em.  You can hear the birds already. Sky’s really blue today. Not a lot of clouds. The sun’s bright. I think Camo must've just done the flowerbeds. Smells like him and fresh earth, and there's no weeds. There's a lot of new flowers, if you wanna go check those out. Lots of colours. Reds, blues, purples, and oranges, mostly. Few little pink ones.” He settles back into the bench. “It’s a nice day out.” Gambit nods. 

“Sounds like it.” He says. “Merci, Logan.” 

“Don’t mention it.” Logan swings his arm over the back of the bench. Gambit shifts at his side. 

“I mean it.” He said, tipping his head back against the sunlight. “Thank you. I still miss my eyes, but…” He shrugs and runs his fingers over the bandages. He brushes aside some of the hair that has fallen in front of his face. It shines almost crimson in the sunlight. Logan finds himself staring. “... It helps.” 

“... Sure.” Logan watches Gambit for a moment longer, then turns to face front again. “Any time.” He felt Gambit’s fingers brush his hand. Without a word, Logan turned his palm over and laced their fingers together. Gambit squeezed. It hadn't been too long since the ‘I’m not good enough’ / ‘yes you are’ talk. Things had been better, but they were still sorting it out. Figuring out what they wanted. What ‘they’ were. 

“Hey, chere.” Gambit speaks up again. Logan glances over. He’s started to learn that means him. That’s been taking some getting used to. “Do you mind if I-” He was already leaning in. Logan grins. 

“You bet your ass I mind.” He says, even as he grabs the front of Gambit’s shirt and pulls him into a kiss. When they pull away, he keeps his eyes closed, and just listens to the way Remy laughs. 

[marthamaxing]

Guardian

Well, I never thought I’d find myself writing fanfic, as I’m more of an artist, but here I am. This being my first fic, I think I did alright, and as for the fic itself, I don’t see enough stories of Ib and Garry in more normal scenarios, so I thought I’d do them justice. I might do more stories about them in the future, but for now, I hope my fellow Ib fans enjoy this. 

Also, if you're you enjoy the family dynamic between Ib and Garry then check out my Discord server: https://discord.gg/ZkuC7C7y 

Summary: An afternoon of fun at the park with Ib and Garry quickly turns awry when Ib's stuffed rabbit suddenly disappears. Update: 8/25/2023 I decided to make a few modifications to my fic. The only really noticeable alterations made was how the beginning plays out, but other than that, I mostly just changed certain paragraphs to describe things better.

A cool breeze flowed through the leaves, accompanied by the gentle warmth of the sun. Flowers bloomed in various colors, and the trees- which had appeared practically lifeless due to the harsh winter- had now grown lush and green. In addition, many creatures were also in motion, from the birds that chirped their tunes to the bees that buzzed about. For many, this was certainly a time to be out and enjoy such a beautiful and lively atmosphere. And a certain nine-year-old girl and a young man, whom she met through rather unusual circumstances at a particular gallery, didn't want to miss out on this opportunity.

Garry had been so busy with his studies and working a few extra hours at his job that he hadn't been able to babysit or visit Ib for the past few weeks. Needless to say, he was relieved to leave such stress behind for the day and spend the Friday afternoon at the park with his young friend once the school day was over.

Ib and Garry spent most of the time strolling along the sidewalk and taking in the surrounding scenery until they eventually came across the playground. Garry had thought that Ib wanted to play with the other kids; however, she turned down the idea. It wasn't that she disliked playing, but the rambunctious and frenzied energy of the children was overwhelming. So they instead opted to rest on one of the nearby benches.

Once the two sat down, Ib reached into her backpack and pulled out a storybook and, surprisingly, a plush rabbit. Ib said that her name was “Mirabella," and it was relatively small compared to the other plushies Garry had seen in the past. And this one, in particular, sported a light pink dress that made it stand out. Ib explained that she had brought Mirabella along because the rabbit had insisted on joining them. While Garry found her claim a bit humorous, he was willing to play along if it meant making her happy. As Ib opened the first page of the illustrated book, she glanced up at Garry and requested that he read it to them. It wasn't the first time he'd read to her, so he was more than glad to do so, as he genuinely enjoyed reading these little tales.

  "…But Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cotton-tail had bread and milk and blackberries for supper." Garry said as he closed the book and chuckled. "I think I did a fine job with my narration. Wouldn't you agree?"

Ib nodded and smiled at him. He then looked down at the stuffed rabbit sitting beside her.

"And did Mirabella like it, too?" he asked, gently patting the stuffed bunny.

"Yeah," Ib said with a hint of laughter.

"Good," he said happily. "My, I'm feeling thirsty after all that walking around from earlier, aren't you?"

Ib's muffled "Uh-huh" prompted Garry to scan the area. "Pretty sure I saw a vending machine around here…" he said as he continued looking before he noticed it a bit off in the distance. "Ah, there it is!" he said, pointing to it.

"You wanna wait here?" he asked.

"Sure," she replied.

"Okay, want any soda or just water?"

"Water's fine."

"Alright, just stay right there, okay? I'll be back in a bit."

She gave him an affirmative nod and smiled as he walked away. Ib turned her attention to the pond a few feet away from her while she waited for him to return, watching the ducks swimming in it, observing them as they occasionally flapped their wings or dived into the water. Her focus slightly adjusted to the ground when she noticed a vivid green frog speeding over the pavement. Ib had never seen one so close; the little creature's bright color held her interest while it hopped around on the sidewalk. Her gaze followed it till it veered off the concrete and into the grass. She couldn't resist rising to see where it was going; when she got too close, it dashed to the pond's edge and disappeared into the water. She felt somewhat let down to see the little guy leave in a hurry, but at least she had something to tell Garry when he returned.

As she turned around to head back to the bench, she suddenly felt her heart skip a beat, now seeing the spot where she and her stuffed friend sat wholly vacant. Panicked, Ib rushed over to it and tried looking under the seat. No luck. She was positive that her plushie had been placed there. She made an effort to search among some of the adjacent trees but came up empty-handed.

"Where could you have gone?" she thought, her worry intensifying gradually.

Shifting her focus to the children still running around in the distance, perhaps it wouldn't hurt to head over to the play area to do a little investigating. It wasn't as if she would be straying too far, and she knew Garry would undoubtedly have a panic attack if she weren't in sight. She just had to look. And she wasn't going to let some brat take something that didn't belong to them. Glancing over, Garry seemed to still be casually standing there, waiting for other people to grab their beverages. With that, she made her way over to the playground.

As she began her search, she first focused on the jungle gym, where most children flocked. She watched carefully as the youngsters raced their way across it, some climbing across the monkey bars by grasping them one at a time, to those that scaled the rock climbing wall and descended from the slide. After a few minutes of careful observation, she realized that none of these kids had what she was looking for. 

With only the swing set and sandbox left to check, she looked around once more. However, the results remained the same. Apart from two kids swinging back and forth on the swing set and a toddler playing with their mother in the sandbox, there was no sign of Mirabella anywhere.

With a sigh and her head hanging low, she reluctantly turned back to the bench. Her only option now was to wait for Garry's help; she only hoped whoever took her plush toy was still nearby and hadn't run off with it. 

Just as she was about to sit back down, she caught a glimpse of a much taller figure in the distance, obscured by the trees, with something white dangling from their hand. Not a second later, Ib sprinted at the sight, and as she drew nearer, the unmistakable shape of her stuffed animal came into view.

"Wait!" She shouted. 

The young man stopped in his tracks at the sound of her voice and turned to face her. Once Ib made it towards him, she was panting heavily, but seeing Mirabella in sight brought her relief.

"Uh, what do you want?" he asked, irritated.

Looking up at him, Ib suddenly found herself unable to speak. The teen appeared anything but friendly, from his ripped and ragged attire to the slight scowl he gave her, was enough for her to realize that this probably wasn't going to go as well as she had hoped. All she could do now was look for words that wouldn't irritate him any further.

"Well, what is it?" he asked once more.

"U-um," she stuttered, "t-that bunny is mine..."

He glanced down at the doll and scoffed. "This is yours? You still play with wittle bunny dolls?" he said, sneering at Ib.

Ib looked down at her feet in an attempt to hide her reddened cheeks. Although this wasn't the first time she'd been criticized for still playing with toys at the age of nine, she didn't understand what the harm was. It didn't mean she was immature; if anything, she was very well-behaved compared to most her age.

"Tell you what, I'll give it back… after I have a little fun with it." he said with a smirk.

Ib did not like the sound of that, as he placed one hand on top of the toy's head with the other on its torso, giving it a slight tug. The very thought of what he was going to do next made Ib feel increasingly anxious, sending her heart pounding at an accelerated pace.

"You see, kid, I take any opportunity I get to grab whatever I want, and when I do, I like to... make improvements."

Now she knew for certain what he was planning.

"N-no!" Ib cried.

"You want it so badly? Come get it!" With a sudden yank, the plush toy was torn in two, its stuffing quickly descending to the ground, followed by its head and torso. Such a terrible sight made Ib fall to her knees in shock. Time seemed to stand still as she stared at the pieces of her beloved toy. Before she knew it, she felt a stream of tears sliding down her cheeks as she started sobbing quietly. The teen's laughter at the sight of her misery was audible, and she could tell this very much amused him. Why he decided to act so cruelly toward her was beyond her understanding.

To Ib, this wasn't just any stuffed toy; it meant so much more to her. For as many bunnies as she owned (gifted mainly by her father), she treated them with the same level of care as if they were her real friends, even giving each of them a name. Throughout her young life, she struggled to form bonds with other kids, so those stuffed friends of hers were all that she had to fill that emptiness. And now she sat in utter despair at the sight of one of them destroyed.

As she continued crying, the laughter came to an abrupt stop. A familiar voice called out her name, followed by footsteps charging in her direction and the teen's aggravated shouts. Blinking through her teary vision, she could make out a figure wearing a dark blue coat as he confronted the person she presumed to be the same one who destroyed her doll. The angry exchanges between them rang in her ears, escalating from verbal conflict to a full-on fight within moments. Wiping her tears away, she saw that her suspicions were correct.

"Garry!"

Garry glanced down at her, only to be struck in the face by his opponent’s fist, sending him back a few steps. He barely had a moment to react before he was met with a second punch to his stomach. The vicious blow forced Garry to his knees, gasping for breath. As he sat there clutching his abdomen, Garry's head was yanked up by his hair, and as a final assault, he felt a knee smash into his face from his attacker. Ib watched in horror as her friend helplessly lay there writhing in agony. She desperately wanted to help him, but her fears prevented her from moving even a single muscle.

The enraged teen made a sudden turn to face her, rage visible in his eyes. "You.. .you knew he'd come, didn't you?" he snarled.

Ib shook her head frantically, "No! I didn't-"

"Liar!" he spat. "Looks like you need to be taught a lesson too." 

He began to advance towards Ib, his intent clear in his eyes. Ib instinctively took a few steps back as he drew nearer, only to trip over a stray root. In an instant, his hand clamped onto her collar, hoisting her from the ground and pinning her against a tree, causing her to yelp. Ib's eyes widened as she found herself face-to-face with him. While she didn't dare speak, her eyes begged him for mercy, but she could see nothing but the desire to harm her. Now that they were isolated from others, she knew that nobody would come to her rescue.

As she closed her eyes tightly and turned her head away to brace herself for the inevitable pain, she suddenly felt the man's hold on her quickly release, making her land hard on the ground. When she opened her eyes, she saw Garry grappling with her attacker as he promptly pushed him flat on his back. Instantly, Garry's fist connected with his face. He clearly hit the teen pretty hard as he cried out in pain, but was soon cut off as Garry delivered another strike to him. The next thing Ib knew, Garry's fists were a blur as he mercilessly pounded the man’s face. She sat there in shock and disbelief as she watched him; she had seen him angry before, but this... this wasn't like him at all. For once, she felt frightened of Garry, the same person who had always seemed so kind and gentle. It made her question for a moment if this were the same person she had grown close to in the few months they'd known each other.

"G-Garry…?" Ib said faintly.

Garry showed no sign of stopping. With each blow he landed, his fists grew increasingly stained with red, and Ib dreaded the thought of what might happen if she let this go on. Even if it was all out of a desire to protect her, the man seemed to have given up attempting to shield himself as Garry continued to pummel him. She knew she had to intervene somehow.

Taking a deep breath, she managed to muster enough strength to shout, "Garry, stop!"

Garry turned to Ib as he was about to raise his fist once more. Seeing how distressed she was, he snapped back to reality and slowly lowered his arm. As he sat over the young man, panting, he saw the amount of damage he had done to his face and felt somewhat regretful for his actions. With a sigh, he grabbed him by his shirt and glared directly at him.

"If I ever see you near Ib again, you'll be sorry," he said, shoving the man back to the ground and proceeding to get up.

Not a second later, the teen quickly got to his feet and staggered off. All the while, Garry stood there and watched, making sure that monster was as far away from them as possible. Once he could no longer see him, he turned to Ib. She was still a bit shaken up by his actions from earlier, making him feel worse than he already did.

"I'm sorry you had to see me like that," he said, feeling too ashamed to look at her. "I… I was just so worried about him hurting you; I just lost it…"

Ib's expression softened. Despite how he had acted out earlier, she couldn't blame him entirely for it. She knew how protective he could be sometimes. However, part of her wondered if he had been in conflicts like this before, but she didn't dare ask as it wasn't her business to know.

Looking at the crimson droplet slowly trickling down from Garry's nose, Ib felt an immediate rush of guilt. Realizing all of this was because of her absent-mindedness. She had always been taught by her mother to take care of her things, and now, the one time she forgets, she and her friend were put in danger.

"It's my fault..." she muttered.

This took Garry aback. "Wha? Ib, you didn't-"

"I got distracted and left Mirabella behind, and he took her," She interrupted, tears growing in her eyes once more.

"I'm sorry, Garry..."

Garry knelt down and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, don't be too hard on yourself. I know you didn't mean for this to happen." He lifted her head by her chin to face her. "Look, you just gotta keep an eye on your stuff next time. Okay?" Ib nodded and brushed her tears away, followed by a hug from Garry, hoping to put her at ease.

Once Ib had finally relaxed, Garry stood up and picked up the two halves of her doll. "I think I can sew her back up," he said as he examined it closely.

"Really?" Ib asked as her eyes lit up.

"Yeah, I think I have enough thread to do so. And I'll be sure to give her back once she's fixed."

Hearing that gave her a sense of comfort. Provided Garry had fulfilled his promise to return her handkerchief a few months before, she was confident he'd also go through with this.

"For now, why don't we grab some macarons?" Garry said with a smile and wrapped an arm around Ib. "You've had a rough day; you deserve something nice."

[moonlightrift]

Fortnite Wilds - First Impressions

Loot pool is a STRONG improvement over MEGAs. While I hope we get some kind of mobility item later in the season, the current guns feel like they fit the theme a lot more, and none of them feel too strong or weak. This opinion may change given more time.

The new biome is GORGEOUS. I was really worried from the trailers and screenshots that it'd lack a strong visual identity, and that it'd all end up being that same overgrown temple look. I'm so glad it isn't just that. The new walkable canopy is going to lead to some insane fights in Zero Build, the prop density is insane, there's so many plants and trees making the biome feel properly lush. One of my complaints with the Neo Tokyo biome is that while the POIs were gorgeous, it felt really empty, and there wasn't enough making it stand out from the rest of the map. This biome avoids that problem, the terrain style, plants, etc, all are extremely differnet.

The lore. I'll keep quiet on this because no one wants to hear me nerd out but we're so back chat. I'm actually feeling the fires of speculation burning within me once again, which I haven't felt since Chapter 3 ended.

I've been far more critical of Chapter 4's visuals then most people, but with the new biome, the storm being purple again, the improved volumetric cloud systems (the storm looks terrifying,) it feels more cohesive. I certainly still have some problems, namely the trees, and lack of foliage, but I'm feeling it.

The new mechanics feel really solid. The vines you can grind on feel far more purposefully placed then the grind rails. They'll get you to a good vantage point, or across the biome. The mud makes sliding far quicker, which is great for mobility. The new plants make exploring the biome interesting, especially when you're low on shields. The new vaults seem.. weird, I need to mess with them more.

New augments feel good to use, the current augments list feels great to use, no filler ones. Hope to continue seeing useful and unique ones.

There's a list of new items that look to release this season, and unlike last season, they're not basically all collabs! One thing I'm really excited for is the synergy between the cloaking item and the Thermal DMR. It gives a GOOD REASON to pick up the item, beyond just enjoy how it plays. I love stuff like that, and I wish it was more common.

Job boards are cool.

Negatives:

My frames are so bad bro, constant dips from 60 to the 20s. :skull:

Chances are, we'll get very little map changes again, which kinda sucks.

The Kinetic Boomerang seems, okay? No mobility attached, nothing that really makes it stand out, beyond the fact you don't need to aim.

I've not seen any raptors despite them being one of the advertised features. Might just be me, maybe they don't spawn in the Jungle, for.. some rason.

I'm just not feeling the Battle Pass. I like one skin and set, and that's about it.

Wildwasp's seem completely useless, just like fireflies.

WHY IS SLONE ITEM SHOP GRAAAAAAAHHHHHHH

Losing the Auto Aim Pistol and Shield Kegs sucks, the first was one of the most unique items added in ages, and the other was great for squads.

The lack of any major movement / game feature this season is unfortunate, I was really hoping we'd see one of the leaked features such as First Person, Wall Running, or Hill Climbing releasing. The last one would fit really well with the crumbling item vibe.

There weren't enough unvaults. Things like the Flintknock, Infantry Rifle, etc. would fit perfectly this season. The fact they weren't included makes me really sad. I'm really afraid I'll burnout on the lootpool quick like last season.

Still no LTMs :lunadepressed:

I really should've wrote down notes while playing, cause it was a struggle remembering what I did and did not like. Despite it seeming like there's more negatives, I'm actually feeling really great about the season so far. I think it's gonna be be far better than MEGA was for me.

This is the most excited I've felt about Fortnite since early Chapter 4.

8/10, I hope the rest of the season is as great.

..I need to check out the lighting as well, it looked really foggy and weird in the jungle biome, and I need to know if the rest of the map is like that, or if they fucked with my precious volumetric lighting. We'll see!