#like do they just go home after this and begin the entire cycle of protecting a shinki from ggs again? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

caramelcuniculus · 1 year ago

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Worry not Winter, for this path was going to be an exact few minutes long! It was just enough time for the golem to collect his bearings, take deep breaths through lungs that weren't there. He knew nothing would happen; it never did. And yet, the emotions begin to invade into his mind and soul each and every time. It didn't matter the amount of times the same relics were seen, the memories always resurfaced. At the beginning, the nostalgia is oftentimes positive, a staple of adrenaline and adoration the archaeologist of old once held. Then, the hate and depression would follow, and the cycle continued. While it lasted, Des was planning to live in the ecstasy. Just for a little while longer. An unseen smile formed on the guide's face. "I wouldn't dare to do something here. The Garden of Healing holds the world's finest lifeforms, ones that haven't been seen in centuries. Both animals and plants alike call this sanctuary their home, and I have little doubt that'd differ now." Their head turned to look at the cavern's wall, basking in the bare yet meaningful display of pure mineral. "The world could've gone through multiple extreme changes after the Azran put the Garden here, and even then, that would not change a thing. Not unless someone solved the seal and found their way in here, which is unlikely. It takes true archaeological skill and a deep knowledge of the Azran civilization to have even the slightest idea to open this passageway, and even that isn't enough." Des began to recall the thoughts and sights of one Jean Descole, one piece of her puzzling existence. She was armed and ready to rip out the entire town of Misthallery to get inside the Garden of Healing, and in the end, she failed. There would be no need to go into full detail regarding that event in her life. Even though it had been literal hundreds of years since that occurred, it still carried incredible weight that would stick with her for the rest of her life. Or, as long as her vessel remained in-tact. Was Winter even aware that she wasn't human? She couldn't deny some wit and smarts behind the round glasses, but maybe he were like herself when it came to a hypothesis. It needed to be proven before being correct. Simon would've had that same mindset too, wouldn't he? That was when he was reminded that this wasn't his Simon. The boarders of Winter's kingdom... of course. "Cruel is one way to put it." Des went silent for a moment before scoffing. "I implore you to not get any ideas regarding this place. The Garden of Healing may be on your land, but this is something that must be preserved. If it were to be touched too much by unfamiliar hands, one of the remaining pieces of Azran history will be lost. It may be a haven, but it doesn't protect those inside from outside intrusions. Security is most important here, to leave this place and its legacy alive." By the time the golem had finished their speech, the light at the end of the tunnel was becoming brighter, both of them finally reaching the fabled Garden of Healing. Des gasped; once again taking in its majesty. Life stretched out as far as the eye could see. Plant-life flourished, creatures and critters roamed the nearby land. A waterfall fell inside a beautiful, shimmering lake at the heart of it all. They weren't kidding when they said this was one of the most beautiful places on this earth. Des hoped Winter was starting to understand their attitude now. "Take a look around, Winter! Embrace the prospecting life left behind by the ancient Azran!"

Her eyes might've not been watching him, but she was still listening. Des felt she needed to; the king would've made his way here soon enough. She wished it could've been a bit longer, or at the very least, enough time for her to get the entrance open. Oh well. The golem found his call of concern interesting. What happened to the boastful egotism? Would you not care for what happens to someone who opposes your views and leadership? Maybe this was all some sort of game to him, that none of her words held any weight. No matter the truth of the matter, everything would soon be set in stone, and there would be no need for any of this. And almost as soon as he announced himself, Winter was right at their side. How was he so fast? More importantly, how was he so quick enough to denounce a find as valuable as this? Even if this were just the entrance, did he not see the gold plaque? Or do riches not matter to this king? Fortunately for them both, the Garden of Healing didn't nor would ever have a price tag. Des would soon show Winter exactly why he should forever keep it that way. "This may be its coordinates, but I assure you, we've not yet arrived." Something like this was obvious; there weren't any signs of a garden in the nearby area whatsoever. Whatever eased any of Winter's highest woes, or provided his eager entertainment. "Impress? Fine then. What lay beneath this puzzle will be the most enchanting sight you'll ever lay eyes on." It hadn't been an extremely long time since she's had to put this together; other worlds had other Gardens. Though, it had still been a handful of years since the last. The associated riddle was known by heart, but hearing it again would help her solve it quicker. "O traveler to paradise! The winged sleepers yearn to dance. Only by touching the four fruits," which they'd tapped with their fingers on the crest, "can you awaken them." One by one, all four birds had their eyes light up; halfway there. "Bird of illusion, raise your beak high! And so you shall lead our traveler into the sun-kissed paradise." The golem flipped the doves accordingly, putting together the Azran's first discovered legacy within the middle of the winter wonderworld. One final turn and the ground beneath both of them shook. Des pulled themself away from the golden ground, the sight of the periwinkle king reminding them that they weren't alone. They were beginning to feel plagued by Aurora's absence. The crest opened itself slowly, and revealed the path to the Garden of Healing. Aurora should be here. "At least I have someone to show this to," he mumbled under his breath before turning towards Winter. "This leads into your world's version of one of the ancient Azran civilization's legacies. I hope you've had yourself a recent history lesson, or else you'll be shown into a whole new world." Des turned back to the cave that awaited them. "Come." And so, he stepped foot within the long pathway towards a longer-lived legacy.

#dismalice #ic; des

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ayamturd · 4 years ago

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light│foolish g

summary: the eggpire attempts to manipulate the heart of a kindled lover, their own mistake in the making

warnings: mentioned kidnapping, injury descriptions, evil c!badboyhalo, angst to fluff

pairing: (requested) in-game foolish gamers

a/n: i tried to play with themes of light and darkness, just as a small visual insight :)

wc: (2.7k) - m.list

It was too dark, he noted. You didn’t like the house being dark.

The second thing he noticed was the silence. There was no crackling fire, no greeting or even the stir of your footsteps inside the usual cozy house. Instead it was cold and empty, like the life had been snuffed and the warmth it once radiated suddenly gone in a broken still. Like it had been taken.

“Y/n?”

Pushing the door open, Foolish immediately became on edge from the broken lock, it swinging open in a haunting manner that echoed throughout the house. He raised his axe while tightening his grip, and slowly, he crept his way around the living space, searching for any sign that you were there or at the very least okay.

“Y/n? Love? Where are you?”

He checked the bedroom, the bathroom, the chest rooms, everything. Nothing was out of place, yet it felt wrong. Everything felt wrong. Scanning each room at a glance, he started to become frantic from the realization. You weren’t here.

“Y/n!”

As he started to pace in worry with growing, erratic breaths, he noticed he forgot to check the kitchen, bolting through the small doorway in desperation for any clues to your whereabouts. Once entering, however, it only worsened his fears.

The kitchen was a mess; from broken glass scattered on the ground to the spilt stew you promised to make tonight, there were signs of an obvious struggle, and one that you must of lost.

Walking slowly into the room, Foolish stood in the middle, his footsteps crunching under the shattered dish ware. He could only stare in horror to the scene before him, the unexpected attack within your own home.

He began to shake, in fear or anger, he didn’t know. All that he knew was that he was terrified for you, of your state, your condition, where you were. He didn’t have the answers he needed and it started to boil a new found rage in the pit of his soul, something he never knew he could have felt in thought of you.

Before he could become completely lost to his own thoughts, something bright shone in the corner of his vision. It was small and lost under the fragments, but it reflected the brief moonlight that peeked through the window still. Foolish crouched down, and as he swiped the broken mess away, he let out a small gasp.

It was your necklace, one he had given to you as a gift near the beginning of your relationship. The small pendent, while old and rough, was an old crystal he found eons ago; he was fascinated with the object when he first discovered it, and as a symbol of his love, chose to gift it to you on your first anniversary.

Although discolored from age and time, the crystal had always held some sort of clouded transparency. Unlike its usual form, Foolish held the pendent up and saw a dark stain of red tainting the side, almost in a corrupt manner as it seeped inside the stone in cracked veins.

The color was too bright to resemble any spilt blood, and with a clenched jaw and narrowed eyes, Foolish seethed at the concluding answer. “Bad,” he growled.

Closing his fist around the charm, he clenched it tightly and raised it to his forehead. The one piece of him you had, now the only thing he had of you.

He was going to get you back, no matter what it took.

“You can’t do this, Bad.” Pulling against Punz’s hold, you tried to throw hands at Bad with a snarl. He only chuckled at your attempts, his once sweet tone now malicious and stern.

“The less you resist, y/n, the easier this will be for us all.”

Your hands were tied behind your back, the rope burning against your skin, rubbing raw from your constant movements to free yourself. Punz had his arms under yours, locking you against his chest and preventing you from moving your upper body; even then, it did nothing to stop your attempts to thrash as much as possible.

Punz grunted from the hard kick you landed behind at him, your legs fierce as they moved every which way. Antfrost stepped forwards to help control you, though it was his mistake to approach you cautiously from the front since you kicked him in the face with a large crack following after.

He fell back with a painful yelp, clutching his broken snout that oozed blood and paralleled the red veinage surrounding his eyes. While you internally celebrated your direct hit with pride, it faded when Bad began to laugh.

“Don’t you see now, Y/n?” As he began stalking towards you, Punz learned from his mistake and hooked his own leg around yours, pulling it back so you were further locked it place. You were helpless as Bad leaned into your face with an amused grin.

“You’re a fighter. Someone that understands the weaknesses of others and how to exploit them. With us, you could discover your own potential and fight for the things that truly matter.”

You hissed at his proximity and cruel intent. “Why the hell would I join an omelette that does nothing but turn you all into brainless puppets.”

Bad laughed again, though forced before shifting into a frown. “We are anything but puppets. We are visionaries chosen to light the way for a new age that calls for freedom and peace. A world with no wars, no loss, and no pain. Only the Egg.”

He turned again, his back facing towards you as he looked ahead. Tilting his head slightly, he smiled sadistically to the thought. “Why don’t we show you?”

With wide eyes, you yelled and fought harder against Punz. It didn’t matter how pathetic or futile your efforts would be in the end, you screamed viciously to his plan; you would be damned if you were to go near that thing and let it corrupt you like it did to those around you. You refused.

“We’ll make you understand, y/n. Don’t you worry now.”

It had been a while since Foolish last stepped foot in the Badlands. As he mainly stayed within his own land and frequented to Snowchester for his recent commission, he hadn’t seen how bad the landscape had become for some time now.

There were vines littered everywhere; they broke through the ground and wrapped around everything they could, the previous builds constructed now ruins under the untamed growth.

The infection worse than he could ever imagine.

Like the land was corrupted itself, the once blue sky barely shined through the dark, thick clouds that surveyed the surrounding area as the grass’ usual lively, green hue looked almost dead from the sight. It was as if the land had been drained of its life form entirely.

With a shake of his head, Foolish pushed forwards despite the unfortunate outcomes. You were his main and only concern, and he was coming for you.

Following the growing trail of vines, he stopped once finding himself faced with an opening in the ground, the vines encompassing the entire area all centering to this one focal point.

The hole was dimly light, yet in spite of the notable metal lanterns nailed to the cavern walls that lit the descending path underground, Foolish could hear the whispers of an ancient being shrouded in a sensation that could only be described as darkness. Pure darkness that’s sole intent was to demoralize and expand.

As his own power centered essentially to a form of life in terms of rebirth, Foolish felt his heart race from the opposing force; Death is often seen as the opposite stage to Life, however in actuality, Corruption and Decay hold more differences than the former, for Corruption seeks out to invade and overtake, leaving little room for life to breathe in its natural state as it’s smothered degenerately. Death is painful as a concept, but only works as an end of a cycle that leads to a new one instead.

His strive to reach you was stronger than ever, and with that he entered the small space.

“So nice of you to finally join us!” Bad’s voice echoed against the cavern walls, his voice too cheery for Foolish’s liking. Pushing away the overhanding vines that blocked his line of vision, Foolish approached the group with an aggravated attitude.

Standing in front of the Egg, Bad stood at the center with Antfrost and Punz accompanying his sides. While Foolish went in with a vengeful mentality, all thoughts left him as soon as he saw you.

You were completely wrapped in the thick, twisted vines, forced onto your knees as the branches covered your body up to your neck. Singular vines were crawled up your head, forming a make-shift halo that encircled your face with obvious pressure on your temples.

Sitting below at Bad’s feet, you occasional would wince in slight pain yet your eyes remained fixed wide open. They were empty and tinted red, a hollow shell of who you were as you fought for control over your own mind.

Foolish snarled at the physiological torture, and turned to Bad in full anger.

“Let them go, Bad. They don’t deserve any of this.” Bad chuckled darkly at the demand and raised his arms upward.

“Deserve any of what? Freedom? Power? A chance to protect all those they love?” Reaching down, Bad mockingly began to stroke your head, and you flinched from his demeaning touch.

Foolish took a singular step forward, his trident pointed threateningly at the audacity he had to both harm and touch you.

“You and I both know that that thing,” Foolish emphasized while turning to point his weapon condemnatory towards the massive egg, “doesn’t do anything but corrupt and spread lies.”

The air grew stiff as a forced silence overtook the room. Bad sighed dramatically, his actions imposing as he showed little care for Foolish’s anger and comment. Crossing his arms, Bad shook his head dismissively with a disappointed frown.

“We knew you would be one of the most difficult to convince.” Foolish froze, confused to his connotations, making Bad smile further. He gestured behind him, and leaned his head forward with a merciless smirk.

“Which is why the Egg demands for y/n more than you think.”

Foolish looked down in seething fury, the thought that you were taken and used as a pawn for his own compliance something inadmissible and unforgivable. He breathed out a humorless snicker, and lifted his eyes up with his head still bowed down.

“Did you really think you could get me to join you,” he lowly asked, his eyes starting to emit a harsh, green glow, “by taking the one person I center my world around?”

He held his own smirk at the growing fear the three began to show, them stepping back as he felt the familiar warmth of power overtake him. Only this time, the light burned like near fire from his manifested rage.

“Think again.”

There was no time to run or attack as Foolish radiated a blinding light, his body shifting as he changed before them from his mortal to Godly form. By the time the light had subsided and the ever so mighty Eggpire could open their eyes from the jarring glow, it was too late for them already.

Foolish was pushed against the cavern ceiling from his extreme height and size, though it didn’t matter for all he needed were his hands as he began swatting at them. He managed to throw Antfrost against the farthest wall, the collision knocking him out cold as he slumped over immediately.

Punz, like the mercenary he is, managed to evade Foolish’s attacks and tried to climb his figure for leverage. It was his mistake, however, as Foolish grabbed him by the ankle during his vulnerable ascent and swung him across the space. A sickening snap from his throw lead him to scream in agony, his arm bent awkwardly under him from the severe fall damage. He too passed out from the pain.

Lastly, Bad could only cower at the man’s wrath, the golden figure pausing to face him in his entirety, saving his final, overwhelming outrage for the leading assailant.

As he raised his fist to strike him down, however, Bad grew desperate and reached for his best bargaining tool: you.

He rushed forward and unsheathed his sword, holding it strictly to your throat while you unconsciously grimaced from the cool of the blade. Foolish was forced to freeze his movements.

“Accept it Foolish, you can’t win against the Eggpire. We are the new age. Join us, and you can continue living your lives,” Bad looked down at you with an overly sweet smile, “together.”

Foolish was hesitate and nervous. He refused to back down in knowing fear you would suffer the consequences of his surrender, yet at the same time, your life was hanging in the fate of his next decision. Faltering his gaze at Bad, he glanced up and paused, a new idea, a new option making way.

Slowly, he leaned down to grab a massive boulder, the vines wrapped around the broken stone snapping as he pulled on it. Bad saw through his intentions and panicked, his sword falling from your neck as he began to cry out.

“Wait- NO! Foolish you can’t!” Completely ignoring Bad’s pleas, Foolish launched the large rock at the Egg.

“Foolish, NO DON-”

The air hissed from the impact, and a force pushed all back as the Egg cracked open with a dying cry, the sound a high pitch ringing as it wailed from the strike. It smelled awful, to say the least. Like rotten flesh that was burned for an extended period of time, the fowl odor pervaded the cavern in a red mist.

As the cloud briefly settled, the visible damage to the Egg became more clear; it was caved in where the boulder was thrown, the inside a glowering, black tint that radiated heat when exposed to the open air. The whispers were now screaming voices, loud cries that shouted over each other. Foolish winced from the overwhelming sound, but as quickly as it came, they fell painfully silent seconds later.

While there was no visible light that transpired once the Egg was impacted, the underground room felt somehow brighter. Like a dark shadow now removed, the shift of light brought forth a true feeling of peace and quiet, as if the buzzing temptations were suddenly removed, if only for a temporary moment.

Bad seemingly collapsed the moment the Egg was injured, his sword falling with a clang as he fell unconscious besides you. Without pause, Foolish transfigured to his original form and rushed to check on you.

He scrambled onto his feet once collapsing back into his moral height and instantly checked you over, pulling the dead, shriveled vines off you before gently bringing you into his lap while holding a hand to your cheek.

“Y/n?” he murmured. Your skin was warm to the touch, and Foolish continued to stroke your face in his attempts to awake you. “Y/n? Please, please wake up.”

Suddenly, you stirred from his words, and slowly blinked your eyes open. Your eyes were squinted in a haze, your sight fuzzy until Foolish came into clear view. “Foolish?”

He let out a laugh of relief, his eyes wet as tears collected from the immense amount of joy that overcame him. Pulling you into his chest, he cradled your head and kissed the top of it earnestly, his eyes shut close as his tears escaped. “Hey there,” he whispered.

Pulling away from you, his grin met your tired one as you smiled softly, hand raised to wipe his fallen tears. “Hey you.”

“Welcome back,” he giggled, his emotions running high from the reassurance that you were within his arms and you were safe. He beamed to the point where his cheeks hurt from how wide they pulled.

You gripped his hand on your own cheek, squeezing it as your form of security that this was your reality, that it was real and he was actually here. Two rekindled loves reunited once more, you both gleamed in each other’s warmth and luminescent love.

“Glad to be back.”

#dream smp x reader #dream smp x you #foolishg x reader #foolish gamers x reader #foolishg x gn!reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #dsmp x reader #foolish x reader

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deviiancetv · 3 years ago

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Cinema Starview Presents: I’m Turning Red for 4★Town!!!

Wow!! Okay, so I just got done watching the new Disney Pixar movie “Turning Red”, and when I say new obsession… IT IS MY NEW OBSESSION!!! The movie is so cute and quirky. I don’t know why it’s getting so much backlash online. Granted the main group of people ranting about it are the white male Disney Adults™, so I’m not surprised. ⛔️ SPOILER WARNING!!! Do not read this review if you haven’t watched yet!!! ⛔️

The movie takes place in 2002, a simpler time, and the year I turned 1 lol. Mei is a 13 year old Asian Canadian girl, who’s going through the normal stages of tweenhood & puberty, being boy obsessed and having casual lil crushes on a K-POP/Boy Band inspired group called 4★Town. Her mom, Ming, is a VERY overprotective, strict parent, very Tiger Mom/Dragon Mom/Wasp Mom/Hawk Mom type. She finds out that Mei has a crush on a guy at the local convenient store, and Mei begins to feel ashamed & embarrassed for fantasizing about him, and drawing little sketches of him in her journal. All of this guilt begins to take form in her, turning into a GRP (Giant Red Panda).

There’s a funny part where her parents think she’s starting her monthly period cycle lol. Chaos insues as she begins to find out how to control her form, go to school after being exposed by her mom, and one of her peers spreading her sketches across the school. This plus her frustration with her mom spying on her at school, all leads to her slowly transforming back into a GRP. Her mom tell her that her ancestor Sun Yee, prayed for a blessing to protect her family during war times, so she became a GRP, and every woman on Mei’s mother’s side of the family will eventually transform into one as a form of their coming-of-age puberty moment.

Mei & her friends; Miriam, Priya & Abby want to go to the 4★Town, while her grandma and aunts are coming to help for the Red Moon ritual to help Mei’s GRP curse, so Mei raises money to prepare for the concert by charging people to see her GRP form, even charging Tyler for his birthday party (who later joins the group since he likes one of the 4★Town members).

Mei gets in trouble by her mom, and her mom blames her friends for “using her”. On the night of the ritual, her dad comes to talk to her about whether she wants to banish her GRP form. She chooses not to banish it, but this causes her mother’s GRP form to unleash, after Mei disobeyed her… YIKES!! Ming’s GRP form destroys the entire stadium, causing Mei, her grandma & aunts to turn into their form to stop her. Mei tells her mom how she wants to keep her form the way she is, and it causes a mature change within their relationship.

I liked the important values and morals of the movie. It teaches the struggles of puberty, periods, and budding feelings of love in the form of a crush. Even though I am a 20 something black guy, I relate to this movie. Growing up in a non-white family where your parents are FAR more stricter than white parents, and dealing with your cultures traditions, your upbringing, and the struggles of puberty while being a tween/teen all hit home for me. While I can’t respect Disney’s current decisions on the Don’t Say Gay bill, I can respect the only good thing about online, is that I could watch it via other means 👀 *cough cough*. Anyway, if you do want to watch the movie, but don’t want to support Disney, you already know what you gotta do matey 🏴‍☠️.

SCORE: 9/10 ⭐️

#cinema starview #movie review #turning red #disney pixar #2022 movies #animation #animated movie review #disney #pixar #disney turning red

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shushiyuii · 3 years ago

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tiny magically shrunken human tommy with fae wilbur who decides to steal tommy because of the fact hes in a bad situation also wilburs the one who shrunk him you can chose if you put noms or not

:000 a fic on a college day? Really? Wow, Shushi! /J

Sorry, it's taken so long to come out! I still got about 3 other one-shots too! But soon! New projects will be on the way!! :333

Warnings: Soft vore, Mentions of bad subjects ( such as bad home life and trauma. Be advised.)

Words: 2K+

His Soft Lullaby

The Mystix’s Valley, a place that’s filled with magical creatures containing Fae, or at least thought to be. But nobody has entirely encountered these creatures, many believe that they don’t even exist and even question the subject when it was brought up.

They were definitely out there since a couple of humans had managed to meet and encounter these tiny creatures, many were people from legends blessed by gods and such.

But the thing is, gods don’t exist in this world and magical creatures are just mainly hiding away from humans. It was true that they have had some encounters but those were many a century ago now, there was mainly no point. All humans would do is use them.

What even were Fae? There were many defining meanings but the main thing to know was that they were beings of magic, magic with a body and conscience. And each Fae is specific to one kind of magic, for example, light, darkness, fate, and many other big roles.

As for Wilbur’s case, he was a music Fae. A music Fae that was tasked to protect the forest’s entrance, by playing his songs to lure the humans away and forget that the experience even happened, and that’s what he had done for a long time now.

He didn’t hate it either, he wasn’t alone. He had the company of the forest’s creatures and saw other Fae’s occasionally. He had plenty to do and even a little grove in a tree to call home!

There was also another thing, a very interesting thing…

It was a human, who came to the mountains a lot. He would come to the mountains upset over something and stay by the forest’s entrance for the night. Wilbur did lead him out with songs, to begin with, but the human kept coming back.

It became a daily thing for Wilbur to watch the boy…

…

Rumour had it that if you went to the mountain’s valley, you’d be lulled away by the song. Forgetting anything that had happened and wake up like any ordinary day. Tommy wasn’t sure why he visited the forest, maybe it was nostalgia, but it was all too familiar for the boy.

It brought him comfort unlike what home was supposed to, he didn’t care about the rumors either. It didn’t bug him, he did notice he had forgotten a few things but now, he felt safe there. Maybe it was the fact it was rumored to be magical, maybe the rumor of childhood wonder was something he craved.

It was a day like any other, go to school, avoid bullies, get home, avoid the arguments and punishments. All in the daily life of TommyInnit! Just a regular life cycle he had to get through until he finally grew up and was finally able to be free!

And after a long day of what seemed to be endless assignments and decent grades, he went home. And immediately went to book it up the stairs, but it seemed fate had other plans…

“TommyInnit! Where do you think you’re going!” Yelled his mother from the kitchen. He hadn’t even made it up one step of the stairs. “Uhh- going to my room?”, “Not right now Young man! We need to talk!”, she then pointed towards the dreaded couch.

He quickly made his way to the couch, wanting whatever was happening to be over with. His mother sat on the couch behind him. “We’ve been called by the school saying you’ve been lacking in potential. Care to explain this?”

Tommy wanted to run away; it was always the same. He wasn’t ever good enough, even how hard he tried. Why did it have to be his grades over anything? His mother continued to lecture him about how he should better himself and put more effort into his education. He just wanted it to be over.

He wanted to escape…

As soon as he could, he rushed into his room. Flopping on his bed, as he tried to bottle up whatever emotions were building up inside of him. He was fine after all. He didn’t need any fucking help!

…

It seemed the British weather had other plans today since it was pouring down with rain. Although normal British weather, it wasn’t nice for Tommy’s now soaked and cold body. No doubt he’d probably get sick after this. But it was worth it.

At least he knew he’d be safe there, at least that place felt like home. At least he could be alone to cry.

It was always quite a climb up the mountain but after many struggles, he finally made it to his stop in the mountain, which luckily always held some sort of shelter from the rain so at least he could maybe dry off a little bit…

…

He wasn’t expecting to see the boy on a day like this, it was pouring down and there sat the boy curled in on his knee, seeming to be crying. He wondered why the boy was out on a day like this, normally no human would have the idea to even come up in this weather.

But it seemed this human had different plans…

Wilbur couldn’t help but feel his heartbreak as he heard the human child cry. Although rare for Wilbur to feel compassion for another being, it seemed to have flair for this human boy. So much so he was tempted to just reveal himself.

And what’s wrong with just one human knowing?

He cleared his throat and quietly began to hum a song as he approached the human. The human picked up on the small song and looked for the source, but he never did find Wilbur as the human’s vision began to daze, the human couldn’t make out a thing until he had somehow fallen to his back.

And eventually, the human came to his senses entirely confused. And Wilbur landed in front of the new tiny human, who was even smaller than Wilbur.

“Hello small one”, the human turned around in horror as they stared up at Wilbur, backing away once every second, shaking in fear. “It’s alright, I do not wish to hurt you. I am familiar that you come by to the mountain fairly often”.

The human nodded and Wilbur gave a soft smile, “My name is Wilbur, how about you Child”. The human struggled to find an answer for a moment, seeming very confused and scared. But he eventually answered with his name “Tommy”.

“A pleasure to meet you Tommy”, he reached out a hand and after some hesitance, Tommy accepted. “Now, what is a young one such as you doing out so late? Not only that but in tremendously bad weather for the occasion of hiking.”.

The teen curled in on the Fae’s hand and he wanted nothing more than to comfort the boy. The boy muttered, “I- Home- My mom-“. The human seemed to want to cry again, in an attempt to comfort the boy, Wilbur nuzzled him gently. And the boy flinched by slowly leaned on his nose.

“It’s alright, Small one. You will be safe here.”. Wilbur was contemplating a lot of things, but surely taking in a traumatized teen who desperately needed a new home wouldn’t be so bad right? Sure, it’d be difficult but, it’d work.

Now all he had to do was keep the boy warm.

Surely it wouldn’t be too difficult right? All he had to do was store the boy. “Child, I am about to do something quite… Unprecedented. But I promise it’ll be completely safe and fine”. He then lifted the boy towards his mouth.

…

Tommy was sure this was quite a surreal dream, believing to having some sort of messed up dream due to hypothermia. But it honestly seemed all too realistic. And strangely enough, this person he had never met was so comforting and kind, it just like his dreams in a way had come true.

But definitely not this part, he most definitely wasn’t expecting to get stuffed into whatever creature- Wilbur’s mouth. He faceplanted in what he believed to be the tongue and was coated with saliva, okay maybe this dream felt a little too realistic now…

…

He could feel the boy struggle on his tongue, but it was far too late to back out now. He had already fairly coated the boy and not only that, but the boy would also surely freeze if he was kept out in the open like that any longer. He wasn’t only shivering in fear after all.

He couldn’t help it when a flavouring of Strawberry and vanilla hit his tongue either.

He slowly tilted his head back, making sure the boy was completely fine before swallowing, he could feel the boy’s struggles continue as he traced his descent with a finger. The boy soon fell into his stomach and to be sure he was going to be as comfortable as possible.

He hummed another soft tune, one that would send the boy asleep, and he slowly felt the struggling weight in his stomach settle and it fell asleep against his stomach walls. To which he caressed, making sure the boy was safe.

…

Tommy hears a familiar soft hum as he wakes up, the place was warm and whatever he was laying on was most definitely comfortable. The smell of some sort of broth hit his nostrils, it smelt delicious, better than what it smelt like at home. In fact, it smelt more like a home than his own.

He dizzily opened his eyes to see wood carvings of engravings on the walls, each with their own varying patterns. Not only that but everything that normally would’ve seemed tiny such as a flower was surprisingly large.

Not only that but the bed he laid in was ginormous, way bigger than what Tommy needed. But was confused him was how tiny he actually was, not only the fact but he was in an unfamiliar place. He pinched himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, and he wasn’t.

And it seemed yesterday wasn’t a dream either as he saw Wilbur around the corner…

So, he basically got eaten and taken by whatever this Wilbur thing was… He stood up in an instant, looking around for an exit. But the only thing he saw was Wilbur coming towards him. “Good morning, Tommy! I cooked you some breakfast!”.

Wilbur had a soft smile like last time, but this time Tommy was more awake and aware, he was sure that Wilbur couldn’t be trusted. “What do you want from me you bitch?!”, Tommy lashed out unexpectedly, but Wilbur didn’t seem to flinch, just confused.

“What do you mean Tommy? I thought I made it clear to you yesterday that I only wished to help.”. Wilbur's expression saddened slightly as he gently handed Tommy the bowl, he hesitantly accepted. And he stood there with the bowl for a couple of minutes.

“Tommy, aren’t you going to eat? It’ll get cold in a short time…”. And after another short while and a complaint from Tommy’s stomach, he took a bite, and it was probably the most delicious thing Tommy had ever tasted.

And bite after bite, he had entirely eaten the bowl without realization. Wilbur laughed and offered Tommy another bowl, who cautiously accepted. Whilst Tommy ate, Wilbur began to explain his species and what his magic was, what he did, and such.

It most definitely caught Tommy’s interest. And then Wilbur gives an offer.

“Although you’re human Tommy, you could stay with me if you wish, or I could send you back if you desire. But what I want is for you to stay safe, I’ve been watching you for a while now and wherever you are, doesn’t entirely seem like the best…”.

The offer made Tommy think and he asked for time, so, Tommy stayed for a couple of days with Wilbur…

…

The last couple of days were the happiest Tommy ever remembered being, it turned out Wilbur was actually really nice, and he even introduced Tommy to his animal friends and sung him songs and stuff.

So, Tommy took the offer. And Wilbur was absolutely delighted since he had grown more attached to the boy. He quickly picked up Tommy in happiness and gave him a giant hug.

Things were looking towards the better.

#mcyt g/t #mcytg/t #dsmp g/t #shushi's writings #tw vore #giant!wilbur #tiny!tommy #Fae!Wilburr

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songofclarity · 4 years ago

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when you said "[Huaisang] took taking down jgy so seriously and so professionally; he has no cheering moment or hail of victory" I was reminded of another post I saw about the moment at the beginning of NMJ's Empathy flashback where the disciples are celebrating the victory over the puppets but NMJ only looks grim. It's something the Nie bros have in common: both consider violence and killing to be necessary and justified— but it's a grim duty, to be undertaken with seriousness, not satisfaction

Yes, that comparison is exactly it, Anon! I do appreciate how CQL ensured Nie MingJue was all business during his fights. Even at the banquet when the Sunshot Campaign was over and done with, his group arrived late (‘Sorry I’m late, I didn’t want to come’) and he looked miserable. Not even an official victory party could put a smile on his face, much less encourage him to celebrate three years of hard work!

I would hesitate, however, before accusing the Nie brothers of finding violence and/or killing as necessary. Those are just tools in the tool box and they could be taken out as needed but they weren’t always needed, much less required. We see time and time again how the Nie brothers pick non-violent options when violence and murder would make their lives so much easier. And this choice between violence and non-violence is important. This is the choice that separates them both from Jin GuangYao. Because when it comes down to it, what was the point of having fought against the Wen Sect if they were all just to become violent and murderous themselves?

For convenience, I have outlined Nie MingJue’s 5 year plan here:

Fight a war against a violent sect

Win even if it might cost him his own life

Go home and live in peace

Nie MingJue stayed his hand from murder not once, not twice, but three times when confronted directly with a cold-blooded murderer. He picked suffering Meng Yao/Jin GuangYao to live over easily justifiable back-alley execution. He banged on the doors of Koi Tower demanding Xue Yang be turned over to him, but never used violence to take matters into his own hands, not even when he held Baxia at Xue Yang’s throat and could have ended the discussion right then and there.

The only people Nie MingJue ever killed were nameless cultivators on the battlefield; nameless cultivators when he was being held prisoner in the Sun Palace; and Wen Xu, a declared enemy met on the battlefield. There is no evidence or accusations that he ever killed anyone after the Sunshot Campaign, not at the Burial Mounds and not when he had his qi deviation.

Nie HuaiSang, for his part, could have just stabbed Jin GuangYao in the chest when he was crying on him and be done with it. Violence is easy. Murder is easy.

For the Nie brothers, violence was never necessary, but justice was. And there is no justice if you just become the beast you fought to defeat, so rules and morals must be taken into account.

Nie MingJue decided, on his own, to send Meng Yao back to his father to face justice after the murder of the Jin disciple. Nie HuaiSang worked to expose Jin GuangYao’s crimes and let the world decide on their own whether or not Jin GuangYao’s crimes deserved punishment.

Nie MingJue followed the rules. He played fair. He asked for permission. He talked in private. He made his demands. He was aggressive, but he never killed to get his way. How easy it would have been if he killed to get his way like Jin GuangYao did! But he didn’t. Nie MingJue was good. Nie MingJue died.

Nie HuaiSang picked up where Nie MingJue left off. The letter to Qin Su was just a letter to Qin Su revealing some of Jin GuangYao’s crimes. Jin GuangYao got away with murdering the Jin disciple all those years ago, and now he’s going to get away with direct involvement in the murder of his own child? Or baby-trapping and then marrying his own sister? No, no he is not. And he’s absolutely not getting away with Nie MingJue’s murder or dismemberment.

Nie HuaiSang still never picked violence. He never picked murder. He never told people what to do or how to do it, and he certainly never held a weapon in his hand. That’s the beauty of his revenge.

As the saying goes: the pen is mightier than the sword. He picked letting the information speak for itself and giving other people the option to use violence, but that was never their only option. Sadly, no revenge plan, no matter one taken as seriously as this one, is foolproof when other people are involved. Qin Su and the letter were discovered by Jin GuangYao, who then blackmailed her, imprisoned her, and then pushed her to suicide. This shows the depth of Jin GuangYao’s cruelty. Jin GuangYao reacting in violence is a Jin GuangYao problem.

As another saying goes: do not shoot the messenger. We already saw how the Jin Sect protected and absolved Xue Yang of his well-documented mass murder. Nie HuaiSang would have heard about how Jin GuangYao, Jiang Cheng, and Lan XiChen were all OK with the Jin protecting Xue Yang while Nie MingJue and popular rogue cultivator Xiao XingChen were very much not. In order to make Jin GuangYao face justice, the one choice Nie HuaiSang never had was to stand up and speak out and expose Jin GuangYao’s crimes. Xiao XingChen tried that with Xue Yang and it got him a fate worse than death. Nie MingJue tried to stand up to the Jin Sect and it got him betrayed and his death to look like an unfortunate event, not even a murder. So instead, Nie HuaiSang got the information out there as secretly as possible and let everyone else decide on what to do with it.

And thankfully everyone agreed with him that Jin GuangYao was trash. No violence was needed to help them see the light. Jin GuangYao made his bed and now he has to sleep in it.

Violence is only a Nie brother final resort when justice is about to be evaded. Nie MingJue is so horrified after the Sun Palace that he’s willing to kill Meng Yao and then himself over the murder of his subordinates. Meng Yao uses the “I saved your life” get-out-of-jail free card, which not only threatens to hold Nie MingJue hostage to a life debt but also means at least two cultivators where killed to save Nie MingJue’s one life. That’s terrible math! Where is the justice in this?? But in case he is in the wrong, Nie MingJue agrees to kill himself too, so justice WILL be served one way or another before Meng Yao runs away again.

Violence and murder are indeed grim tools for a serious duty and they need to be handled respectfully and with resolve! Note how Nie HuaiSang at no point lies and says, “I had no choice.” It was his choice to send the letters, it was his choice to put himself in danger at the Second Burial Mounds Siege and at Guanyin Temple, and it was his choice to save Sisi from her unlawful imprisonment and let her speak on her own behalf. This boy had choices, choices other than violence and murder, and he never victimized himself by claiming otherwise. He never pleaded innocence or passed the blame. He simply dodged the discussion entirely, but the ending shows he knows what he did and why.

Nie HuaiSang, "Wei-xiong, why do you keep on asking me? No matter how much you ask, I don't know anything." With a pause, he continued, "But..." Slowly, Nie HuaiSang brushed together his storm-drenched hair. "I think that if this person hates Jin GuangYao so much, they'd probably be entirely merciless towards something he cherishes more than his life." (Ch. 109, ERS)

Nie HuaiSang has so much conviction that his cavalier attitude after Jin GuangYao's death is so cold that if anyone touched him they would probably be burned. When Nie HuaiSang lies, he says, “I don’t know.” He knows the importance of information and he’s not about to expose himself for having any that might get him killed. Nie HuaiSang’s fight was different than Nie MingJue’s in tone and shape, but Nie HuaiSang kept the same agenda and, frankly, played by the same rules as his Nie MingJue.

Some rules Nie MingJue lives by:

Outside input is important

Don't kill people for the rewards

Have conviction in your choices

Jin GuangYao was in the process of fleeing justice at Guanyin Temple just like he fled justice at Langya. Jin GuangYao laid a trap for Nie MIngJue at Langya and there was no doubt going to be a trap at Guanyin Temple--so Nie HuaiSang sprung one on him first.

“Brother XiChen, behind you!!!” (Ch. 108, ERS)

And the choice to stab Jin GuangYao was Lan XiChen’s, not Nie HuaiSang’s, although Nie HuaiSang was determined to see justice prevail and that treacherous Third Brother brought down.

Of interest, Nie HuaiSang’s ten year agenda:

Expose Jin GuangYao’s violent crimes

Win even if it might cost him his own life

Go home and live in peace

Violence and murder were never on the agenda. They aren’t necessary. They were never necessary. The tragedy is thinking that they might be, and that’s Jin GuangYao’s tragedy, not the Nie brothers. Nie MingJue’s behavior shows a man who thought if he fought hard enough, pushed hard enough, allowed redemption arcs to a murderer, tried to work with people who didn’t want to work with him, peace might find a way.

Violence was only needed because Jin GuangYao could not be stopped in any other way. He burned the brothel down with all the women inside it to hide his past and he tried to massacre the whole cultivation world to hide his crimes. Considering the amount of death the Nie brothers have faced, from family dead from qi deviations to piles of bodies on the battlefield to allies killed to save their lives, I dare say the Nie brothers had a respectful relationship with violence and murder because they wanted to escape the cycle the most.

#anon #asked from above #nie mingjue #nie huaisang #jgy vs nmj #nhs vs jgy #nie brothers #mdzs thoughts #there is absolutely NO reason this response needs to be this long #please excuse me anon i'm just full of nie brother feelings all day every day lol

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cielrouge · 4 years ago

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YA SFF Books by Latinx Authors

A Fierce and Subtle Poison by Samantha Mabry: Spending the summer with his hotel-developer father in Puerto Rico, 17-year-old Lucas turns to a legendary cursed girl filled with poison when his girlfriend mysteriously disappears.

All the Wind in the World by Samantha Mabry: Working in the maguey fields of the Southwest, Sarah Jac and James are in love but forced to start over on a ranch that is possibly cursed where the delicate balance in their relationship begins to give way.

Beneath the Citadel by Destiny Soria: In the city of Eldra, people are ruled by ancient prophecies. For centuries, the high council has stayed in power by virtue of the prophecies of the elder seers. In the present day, Cassa, the orphaned daughter of rebels, is determined to fight back against the high council. But by the time Cassa and her friends uncover the mystery of the final infallible prophecy, it may be too late to save the city — or themselves.

Blanca & Roja by Anne-Marie McLemore: The del Cisne girls, Blanca & Roja, have never just been sisters; they’re also rivals. Because of a generations-old spell, their family is bound to a bevy of swans deep in the woods. But when two local boys become drawn into the game, the swans’ spell intertwines with the strange and unpredictable magic lacing the woods, and all four of their fates depend on facing truths that could either save or destroy them.

Blazewrath Games by Amparo Ortiz: 17-year-old Lana Torres, who after rescuing a prized dragon, is awarded a spot on her native Puerto Rico’s Blazewrath World Cup team. But the return of the Sire, an ancient dragon, soon threatens to compromise this year’s tournament.

They Both Die in the End by Adam Silvera: Set in a near-future New York City where a service alerts people on the day they will die, about two teens who meet using the Last Friend app and are faced with the challenge of living a lifetime on their End Day.

The Body Market (Wired #2) by Donna Freitas: When Skylar's sister betrays her and opens the Body Market, everyone in the App World is for sale and Skylar resolves to stop her sister and the malevolent market.

Bruja Born (Brooklyn Brujas #2) by Zoraida Cordova: Teenage bruja Lula Mortiz tries to save her boyfriend, Maks, by cheating Death; however, Lady de la Muerte is not so easily bested.

The Buried by Melissa Grey: After disaster strikes the remote town of Indigo Falls. A horrific event drove the residents underground, into shelters that keep them safe from the danger on the surface. Now, a handful of families inhabit this bunker together, guided by a charismatic leader named Dr. Imogen Moran.

Cazadora (Wolves of No World #2) by Romina Garber: In this follow-up to Lobizona, Manu and her friends as they continue to fight for a better future.

Cemetery Boys by Aiden Thomas: Latinx trans teen Yadriel, hoping to release his cousin’s spirit and prove himself as a brujo, accidentally summons the wrong ghost and resident bad boy Julian Diaz, falling in love with him.

Dark and Deepest Red by Anna-Marie McLemore: Summer, 1518. A strange sickness sweeps through Strasbourg: women dance in the streets, some until they fall down dead. As rumors of witchcraft spread, suspicion turns toward Lavinia and her family. Five centuries later, a pair of red shoes seal to Rosella Oliva’s feet, making her dance uncontrollably. They draw her toward a boy who knows the dancing fever’s history better than anyone: Emil.

Dealing in Dreams by Lilliam Rivera: 16-year-old Nalah leads the fiercest all-girl crew in Mega City, but when she sets her sights on giving this life up for a prestigious home in Mega Towers, she must decide if she’s willing to do the unspeakable to get what she wants.

Diamond City by Francesca Flores: Pulled from the streets at age twelve and trained to become one of the most powerful assassins in Sumerand, Aina Solis discovers a conspiracy that could rewrite the kingdom's history.

Dragonblood Ring (Blazewrath Games #2) by Amparo Ortiz: After the Sire’s capture, teen athletes Lana Torres and Victoria Peralta travel to Puerto Rico with their former Blazewrath team. While Lana discovers her roots, nothing fills the void Blazewrath’s cancelation has left in Victoria. But it’s up to their team and the Bureau to protect their dragons.

Each of Us a Desert by Mark Oshiro: Xochital is destined to wander the desert alone. Her one desire: to share her heart with a kindred spirit. One night, Xo’s wish is granted—in the form of Emilia, the cold and beautiful daughter of the town’s murderous mayor. But when the two set out on a magical journey across the desert, they find their hearts could be a match… if only they can survive the nightmare-like terrors that arise when the sun goes down.

Fire with Fire by Destiny Soria: A contemporary fantasy about two sisters, Dani and Eden Rivera, who were raised to be fierce dragon slayers but end up on opposite sides of the impending war when one sister forms an unlikely, magical bond with a dragon.

The First 7 (The Last 8 #2) by Laura Pohl: After leaving Earth, now devastated by an alien attack, and exploring the galaxy, Clover Martinez and her fellow teen survivors return home to find crystal formations in the soil that are threatening to destroy the planet, and a colony of survivors who are not who they seem.

Five Midnights by Ann Davila Cardinal: If Lupe Dávila and Javier Utierre can survive each other’s company, together they can solve a series of grisly murders sweeping though Puerto Rico. But the clues lead them out of the real world and into the realm of myths and legends.

The Grief Keeper by Alexandra Villasante: To have her family’s asylum request accepted, 17-year-old Marisol participates in a risky experiment to become a grief keeper, taking another’s grief into her own body to save a life.

The Healer by Donna Freitas: Manifesting astonishing healing powers that cause some people to consider her a saint, Marlena Oliveria struggles with edicts that prevent her from attending school, having friends and falling in love when she meets a boy who makes her question what she is willing to sacrifice.

Hollywood Witch Hunter by Valerie Tejeda: When a coven bent on retaining their youth must sacrifice the beautiful, and rich women of Southern California, a society of witch hunters will try to protect humans from a great evil uprising.

Incendiary by Zoraida Cordova: As Renata Convida grows more deeply embedded in the politics of the royal court, she uncovers a secret in her past that could change the entire fate of the kingdom–and end a costly war.

Illusionary (Hollow Crown #2) by Zoraida Córdova: Reeling from betrayal, Renata Convida is a girl on the run. With few options and fewer allies, she reluctantly joins forces with none other than Prince Castian, her most infuriating and intriguing enemy.

Infinity Son by Adam Silvera: In the Bronx, two brothers, Emil and Brighton, get caught up in a magical war generations in the making.

Infinity Reaper (Infinity Cycle #2) by Adam Silvera: Emil and Brighton Rey defied the odds. When Brighton drank the Reaper’s Blood, he believed it would make him invincible, but instead the potion is killing him. In Emil’s race to find an antidote that will not only save his brother but also rid him of his own unwanted phoenix powers, he will have to dig deep into his past lives.

Iron Cast by Destiny Soria: In 1919 Boston, best friends Corinne and Ada perform illegally as illusionists in an infamous gangster's nightclub, using their "afflicted" blood to con Boston's elite, until the law closes in.

Labyrinth Lost by Zoraida Cordova: Alex is a bruja and the most powerful witch in her family. . When a curse she performs to rid herself of magic backfires and her family vanishes, she must travel to Los Lagos to get her family back.

The Last 8 by Laura Pohl: After an alien attack devastates the Earth, pilot and future astronaut Clover Martinez bands with seven other teens to survive.

Lobizona by Romina Garber: As Manuela Azul uncovers her own story and traces her real heritage all the way back to a cursed city in Argentina, she learns it’s not just her U.S. residency that’s illegal… .it’s her entire existence.

Lost in the Never Woods by Aiden Thomas: When children start to go missing in the local woods, eighteen-year-old Wendy Darling must face her fears and a past she cannot remember to rescue them in this novel based on Peter Pan.

The Mind Virus (Wired #3) by Donna Freitas: Skylar Cruz has managed to shut down the body market that her sister Jude opened, and to create a door to allow App World citizens reentry into the Real World. But as tensions between the newly mingling people escalate, she s not sure if it was the right decision after all. Still reeling from Kit’s betrayal, she s not sure of anything anymore.

Miss Meteor by Tehlor Kay Mejia & Anna-Marie McLemore: Two friends, Lita Perez or Chicky Quintanilla, one made of stardust and one fighting to save her family’s diner, take on their small town’s 50th annual pageant in the hopes that they can change their town’s destiny, and their own.

The Mirror Season by Anna-Marie McLemore: Graciela Cristales meets Lock, a boy who was sexually assaulted at the same party as her, and they find their fates unexpectedly intertwined during a month of vanishing trees, enchanted pan dulce, and inherited magic.

More Happy Than Not by Adam Silvera: After enduring his father's suicide, his own suicide attempt, broken friendships, and more in the Bronx projects, Aaron Soto, sixteen, is already considering the Leteo Institute's memory-alteration procedure when his new friendship with Thomas turns to unrequited love.

Never Look Back by Lilliam Rivera: An Afro-Latinx retelling of Orpheus and Eurydice set in the Bronx. Pheus is a bachata-singing dreamer who falls in love with Eury, a girl who lost everything in Hurricane Maria and is haunted by the trauma—and by an evil spirit.

Nocturna by Maya Motayne: In the Latinx-inspired kingdom of Castallan, face-changing thief Finn Voy and grief-stricken Prince Alfehr must race to vanquish a dark magic they have unleashed.

Oculta (A Forgery of Magic #2) by Maya Motayne: After joining forces to save Castallan from an ancient magical evil, Alfie and Finn reunite once again to preserve Castallan’s hopes for peace with Englass. But will they be able to stop sinister foes before a new war threatens their kingdom?

Pitch Dark by Courtney Alameda: Tuck Durante, a shipraider, and Lana Gray, a curator, must work together to try to rescue a space capsule hijacked by nightmarish creatures who kill with a scream.

Rated by Melissa Grey: For the students at the prestigious Maplethorpe Academy, every single thing they do is reflected in their Ratings System. But when an act of vandalism sullies the front doors of the school, it sets off a chain reaction that will shake the lives of six special students – and the world beyond.

Sanctuary by Abby Sher & Paola Mendoza: In a near future dystopian America set 2030, 16-year-old Vail and her brother must escape a xenophobic government to find sanctuary in California.

The Savage Dawn (Girl at Midnight #3) by Melissa Grey: A darkness has entered the world and the Dragon Prince is wreaking havoc wherever she goes. With the war upon her, Echo must use every bit of her firebird powers or risk losing those she holds dear.

Seven Deadly Shadows by Courtney Alameda & Valynne E. Maetani: A contemporary fantasy set in Japan, about Shinto temple priestess Kira Fujikawa, who must seek the aid of seven demons in order to protect her village and the world from an ancient evil.

Shadow City (The City of Diamond and Steel #2) by Francesa Flores: Aina Solís has fought her way to the top of criminal ranks in the city of Kosín by wresting control of an assassin empire owned by her old boss, Kohl. But Kohl will do anything to get his empire back.

The Shadow Hour (The Girl at Midnight #2) by Melissa Grey: With the firebird awakened, the war has become even more dangerous for Echo and her friends. There is a darkness spreading too and staying in hiding might not be enough to keep them alive.

Shadowshaper by Daniel Jose Older: When her summer plans are interrupted by supernatural phenomena, Puerto Rican teen Sierra Santiago finds herself in a battle with the killer targeting her family of shadowshapers who believes she is hiding their greatest secret.

Shadowhouse Fall (Shadowshaper #2) by Daniel Jose Older: While working on her shadowshaping skills, Sierra Santiago is beginning to think she may need all the skill she can summon because it seems that when she channeled hundreds of spirits through herself in order to defeat Wick, she woke up something very powerful and very unfriendly and put her family and friends at risk.

Shadowshaper Legacy (Shadowshaper #3) by Daniel Jose Older: Sierra Santiago and the shadowshapers have been split apart, but a war is brewing among the houses. As old fates tangle with new powers, Sierra will have to harness the Deck of Worlds and confront her family’s past if she has any hope of saving the future and everyone she loves.

Shutter by Courtney Alameda: When a routine assignment goes awry, 17-year-old ghost hunter Micheline Helsing is infected with a curse and on the run, pursued as a renegade agent by her monster-hunting father, with only seven days to exorcise the entity or be destroyed body and soul.

Sia Martinez and the Moonlit Beginning of Everything by Raquel Vasquez Gilliland: A Mexican American teenage girl discovers profound connections between immigration, folklore, and alien life, when a spacecraft crashes in front of her car…and it’s carrying her long-lost mom, who’s very much alive.

Tigers, Not Daughters by Samantha Mabry: Loosely inspired by the story of King Lear and his daughters, set in San Antonio, Texas, following the Torres sisters, struggling to escape their tyrannical father’s claustrophobic world while dealing with the loss of their eldest sister, whose troubling death continues to haunt—perhaps even literally—the loved ones left behind.

Undead Girl Gang by Lily Anderson: While investigating the supposed suicides of her best friend, Riley, and mean girls June and Dayton, 16-year-old Wiccan Mila Flores accidentally brings them back to life.

Unplugged by Donna Freitas: When she moves from the Virtual World to the Real one, Skylar Cruz discovers that her body is both exquisite and valuable -- a dangerous combination in a place where bodies are sought after in sinister ways.

Wayward Witch (Brooklyn Brujas #3) by Zoraida Cordova: Rose Mortiz begins to discover the scope of her powers, the troubling truth about her father’s past, and the sacrifices he made to save her sisters. But if Rose wants to return home so she can repair her broken family, she must figure out how to heal the land of Adas, a fairy realm hidden in the Caribbean Sea, first.

The Weight of Feathers by Anna-Marie McLemore: Although Lace Paloma knows all about the feud between the Palomas and the Corbeaus, she finds herself falling for Cluck Corbeau when he saves her life while both families are performing in the same town.

We Set the Dark on Fire by Tehlor Kay Mejia: When she is asked to spy for a resistance group working to bring equality to Medio, Daniela Vargas, a student at the Medio School for Girls, questions everything she's worked for.

We Unleash the Merciless Storm (We Set the Dark on Fire #2) by Tehlor Kay Mejia: La Voz operative Carmen Santos is forced to choose between the girl she loves, Dani, and the success of the rebellion she’s devoted her life to.

When the Moon Was Ours by Anna-Marie McLemore: As odd as everyone considers Miel and Sam, even they stay away from the Bonner girls, four beautiful sisters rumored to be witches. Now they want the roses that grow from Miel's skin, convinced that their scent can make anyone fall in love. And they're willing to use every secret Miel has fought to protect to make sure she gives them up.

Wild Beauty by Anna-Marie McLemore: A novel of magical realism, the Nomeolvides women have tended the lust estate grounds of La Pradera which they’ve grown for generations, until the reemergence of a family curse starts to makes the men they love disappear, again.

#authors of color #latinx authors #booklr #book recs #book recommendations #yalit

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kareniliana · 4 years ago

Text

Klaus: Love & Power

A//N: I’ve been gone for a LOOONG minute. But I have good news about it.

I MADE THE DEANS LIST!

Winter qtr of college was a little difficult but it was the best I’ve ever done in school. Such good news right!?

Anyway, this qtr I have a little stricter schedule, which means I knew specially when I can write. And I had been.

GET READY!

& enjoy!

xx Karebear 💛🧸

Yours and Klaus’s love story seemed far fetched for most people but for those who were able to experience your connection grow into an immense amount of love for each other, would say otherwise. You became his world, alongside with Hope. In his mind, after he was able to curse Hayley and the werewolves in the bayou, he had the perfect life. His two great loves under his roof, under his sole protection. You would never agree to what Klaus has done, but nonetheless you love him. He’s the complete opposite of your previous partners in more ways than that. You understood him, through and through. You knew him like the back of your hand, you know his next move before he does.

You were holding Hope in your arms as you walked along the bookshelf trying to get her to sleep, but all the effort was about to go to waste when Klaus comes barging in panting about to rage about gods knows what.

But before he could begin you raised a warning hand, “Don’t you dare wake her!” You whisper shouted at him. He instantly stops dead in his tracks.

Once his breathing normalizes he sits down on the couch, “The witches are siding with Marcel against me, they want my crown.”

You walked over to him, handing off his sleepy daughter to him. “You don’t need to be everyone’s king. You have all that you need with Hope and I, right?” You asked shyly.

He looks down to a sleeping Hope, then he looks back up to you before nodding his head.

“Maybe you should just give them New Orleans?”

Klaus sighed before standing up, “I should put her to bed, it’s late.” Klaus avoided your advice, walking off to Hope’s bedroom.

After a few minutes of contemplating whether you want to still be here when Klaus comes back or not. If you stay, you’ll more than likely have to sit there listening to him rant about this losing battle. If you leave, you can avoid all of that.

With no incentive to stay, you grabbed your things and made your way out of the compound.

As you walked down the steps you notice a disheveled Elijah. He sat on an almost broken chair, drinking liquor out of a broken bottle. The entire ground floor is basically destroyed, broken tables, chairs, artwork, glasses and everything in between.

“Who in the Hades did you fight today?” You gasped at the sight, oddly enough no bodies were to be found. Blood could be seen splattered all around.

“Y/n, my apologies for the mess, I seem to have taken it a bit too far.” Elijah stands, setting the bottle on a table. In mere seconds the table caves in, shattering the bottle on the ground.

Elijah tried to fight the smile off his face, but it only grew twice in size.

You laugh at his reaction, soon Elijah bursts into laughter as well. As you descended down the rest of the steps, Elijah explains how some of his sires became a threat to the rest of his family.

“Therefore I sent them a message, ‘come after my family, I will come after you.’ It’s what this family does best.” Elijah explains as he begins cleaning up the broken furniture as you stood on the last step listening to him.

“Violence begets violence, this family of yours lives in a cycle of violence.” You sighed, crossing your arms across your chest. You sounded almost defeated.

“You speak like it’s your final efforts dealing with the dramatics of my family, why is that?” he asked, noticing how fed up you are.

“I love Klaus and I love Hope, but...” You shake your head, holding yourself back.

Elijah stopped cleaning, “No, no, please don’t hold yourself back now. If there is anything this family is in dire need of, it’s your brutal honesty. Please continue.”

You sighed, “It’s just... no matter how hard life gets for him, he will not give up the one thing that brings most of this unwanted violence.”

As you spoke Elijah had come to the same realization as you, his face fall into a slight frown as he listened to you.

“After all this heartbreak and sorrow brought upon your family, you’d imagine he would at least hand over some of the reigns. But no, the mighty Klaus Mikaelson has to be King of everyone.” You talked without any reservations on the topic, eventually your tone became stern and cold.

“I know my brother can be a lot, he wants the perfect life for Hope. You can't blame him for that.” Elijah speaks with some regret, they're problematic past on his mind.

“I love that man but at some point I have the face the truth, there’s nothing more that he loves than power.” You almost choked on your words, first time saying them out-loud was harder than you thought.

Without another thought you gather your composure and hurried your way to the exit, “I should go.”

Elijah opened his mouth as he was going to say something but was speechless. There wasn’t something he could say that would fix what you were feeling. After some short time has passed Elijah had managed to get the ground floor back to its glory.

Meanwhile Klaus sat in Hope’s nursery all night, just watching her sleep. He kept thinking about what you had said; giving up New Orleans. How would he be okay with giving everything back to Marcellus?

Klaus hadn’t realized that he had been there all night until the sun rises and began to beam into the room. Letting Hope sleep, he finally leaves her room quietly. He walked around the house in search of you but much to his surprise, you weren’t in bed or the kitchen or even the study. You never came back.

Elijah walks into the study behind Klaus, “Hope’s still sleeping?”

“Have you seen Y/n? She never came home last night.” Klaus asked, worry evident in his voice.

“Not since last night when she left, you had a fight.” Elijah states which only angers Klaus.

“Were you eavesdropping on us last night?” He began to raise his voice, Elijah simply looked at his younger brother with a stern look.

Smirking at Klaus, “I had a conversation with Y/n on her way out, that is all.”

Klaus wanted nothing more than to chase you down and talk but Hope started crying meaning she’s awake. First Klaus tends to his daughter, contemplating on what to do with the situation at hand.

He knows you love him with everything that you are, but letting go of this city was something he didn’t think he’d every have to do again.

As soon as night falls, Freya comes to watch over Hope while Klaus goes out looking for you.

You sat in the lycée with Davina, she performed a cloaking spell on you to stay hidden for a while. She practiced different spells, continually getting up for different plants or herbs for said spells.

“I never would have thought that the city of the dead would be this... peaceful.”

“It’s a great place to help think, maybe soon you’ll start telling me why you need to hide from your own boyfriend.” Davina laughs slightly as she walks back to you with different colored potion bottles in her hands.

“Klaus needs to be King of New Orleans, I just need to finally accept that as one of his personality traits.” You sighed, setting down whatever witch instrument you had been playing with.

“A guy like Klaus means there is no changing him. Take the time that you need to sort your feelings, I’m meeting up with Josh. No one should come through here.” Davina gathered her things and walked out to go with her vampire friend.

Hours pass and soon it would be night, your thoughts ran wild. You love Klaus with every cell in your body, you could die loving him and it'd be a worth while life. So maybe him being the King of New Orleans is something to fight for. You’ve loved him when he's at his worst, so why can’t you love him when he’s fighting to stay King.

Coming to the realization that no matter where or what Klaus is doing, you’ll love him and want to be with him. Almost immediately you made your way out of the Lafayette Cemetery and straight to the Mikaelson compound.

After a few hours, Klaus lost hope in finding you before you wanted to be found. He went back to his daughter to wait for your return, running into Elijah at the enterance.

“Anything?” Klaus asked him, almost pleading with his eyes for some good news.

Elijah shook his head, “I didn’t want to mention this but, brother maybe she's not coming back.”

“Why on earth would you say such things?” Klaus asked before looking over to Elijah who wore a guilty expression. “Unless she said something?”

They slowly began to make their way inside the fortress, “Our chat last night, she mentioned that you might desire power more than you desire love.”

Klaus stopped dead in his tracks, there you were standing in front of Freya who was holding Hope.

Once you noticed the brothers enter the room you began apologizing for basically vanishing out on him. “I am so sorry, I needed time to figure out my stupid feelings.”

Klaus walked straight to you, pulling you into his embrace. Freya and Elijah looked to each other, making their way elsewhere to give you and Klaus some privacy.

When he pulled away he held your hands in his, “Your feelings are never stupid. There is nothing I love more than you and Hope. I’m sorry I made you feel that way, it was never my intention. I don’t need to be King.”

Your eyes go wide and you furrow your eyebrows, “No, no, I was wrong. I know why you have to be King. It’s okay, really. I know that everything you do is for those who you love.”

Klaus smiled down at you, “I do love you, do not forget that.”

#klaus mikaelson #niklaus mikaelson #klaus x reader #niklaus x reader #klaus mikealson x reader #niklaus imagine #Niklaus Mikaelson x reader #the originals x reader #the originals #the originals imagine #Mikaelson #the mikaelsons #tvd universe #tvdu #tvdu x reader

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twentytarot · 4 years ago

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wow, it’s been a while, hasn’t it? sorry that i kinda dropped off the map there, but you know how it is. life calls when it does. anyway, today we’re doing a reading on your next five years. for this reading in particular, if you’re drawn to more than one group then i’d suggest you read them both, because 5 years is a long time and it’s definitely possible for bits and pieces of your prediction to be scattered around this reading. devise a strategy that works for you even, for example, if i’m drawn to pile 1 first and then 4, maybe the beginning of pile 1 is more relevant to me but the end of pile 4 will resonate more. enough of my rambling, on to the reading!

*year 1 means from now till year from now, year 2 1-2 years from now, and etc.

PILE ONE: GLASS PANELS

overall, the next five years has you waiting for the right moment to begin living. currently you are stuck in a place where you’ve been hurt and betrayed— yet you cannot leave yet. you’re probably trying to plan a way out, but perhaps, surrounded by the unbreakable glass panels in your life, you’ve come to the same conclusion as me: it’s not going to be any time soon. for the next two years, you will have no way out. however, you will become much more resilient so that 3 years from now, you have the power and strength to break out of your current situation and build your dream life. it seems that there will be a lot of movement leading up to this event; perhaps you will be moving house and leaving most of the people around you now behind. whatever the case, in year 3, you will be building a new foundation for yourself. if there are responsibilities and duties you cannot fully leave behind from your past, you will learn to balance them in year 4. in year 5, you’re building up your finances, having found your footing at home and at work. finally, five years from now, you will finally feel like you are in a place where you can feel stable and secure financially and emotionally.

in other words, the main message for you is “one step at a time”. you will have the life you want, but it will take a while. for now, you will have to heal your inner wounds and learn to brave the coldest of storms on your own. then, the next step will be to gain the courage to forge ahead and create a foundation that will allow you to build your life the way you want, away from the toxic people that you have had to rely on. once you have found your own independent footing, then the next step will be to go after you want, especially in career and life purpose. don’t be afraid if things start coming down, almost no one goes through their 20s and 30s without having to destroy something fundamental. finally, once you have learned to juggle all of this alone, the final piece will fall into place, and that is the rest of the world. friends, a new family, and days that make you so excited you want to sleep early so that the sun rises faster tomorrow. this is a long journey, but i’m confident it’s worth it. you got this! :)

PILE TWO: APPLE PASTRIES

for the next five years, you will ride a wave that brings you to the top of the world, and then you’ll prepare for the next chapter in life. we start off in year 1 with you being a little unsure of what it is you want to do long-term— perhaps you’re aware that it’s about time you start settling on a path with how responsibilities are piling up, but you’re also rather reluctant to let go of all your ideas and inspiration. that’s alright, you don’t have to decide just yet. in year 2, things get a little more exciting in the personal department: you might meet your future spouse, get engaged, get married, or even have a kid, depending on where you are in personal life right now. i’m leaning towards you being pretty young and just beginning to entertain the idea of marrying your special someone. whether it’s navigating a new relationship or wedding planning, you’ll be pretty caught up in it in year 2, and your work life will naturally fall into the background. not for long, though, because someone enters your life in year 3 and they don’t have your best interests in mind. they’re not out to get you, but they also don’t care if they had to step on you to get higher. this person brings you a whole lot of clarity on your life purpose and career, though, and so you transform your life quite rapidly, especially in view of the fact that you’re getting older and it can’t be helped, you’re going to have to start making some commitments. the transition is very successful and in year 4 you reap all the benefits. you are like water, you balance the push and pull effortlessly like the waves, you bring energy wherever you go, you complete the cycle and finish what you start. you’re in a position to give advice now, and people begin to look up to you. life’s... well, it’s actually pretty good.

year 5 is whole new chapter, likely on patience. the bliss of making it through one chapter in life never lasts long enough, and it is time for your life to move on. take care of yourself and always be open to growth. take the people that will betray you as lessons on how to better watch out for and protect yourself. wield the sword of clarity with conviction. before you know it, everything else will follow.

PILE THREE: FLAT WHITE

your next five years is about breaking free. you are often harshly judged by the people around you, and it’s like you can never catch a break. you wished for a peaceful getaway, and your wish is only partially granted. let me stop for a second and explain. for example, if you’re harshly judged at work, you might be able to get out of working with the particular team that makes your life difficult, but you won’t be able to leave the company entirely. something like that. you’ll have to do more than what you’re doing right now to truly get out of this situation. thankfully, towards the end of year 2, your heart hardens. enough is enough, you decide, and with your sharpened sword, you go after what you want.

the battle in year 3 is ugly. you say things you wish you didn’t have to, you do things in ways that keep you up at night. sometimes we don’t have a choice, though, because it was the only way you would be able to take what is yours and run. just in time, too, because in year 4, you will realise the stability you thought you were being offered was as strong as a house of cards. by defying expectations and going out on your own, you have nudged this house and cause it to topple. you get to watch from somewhere a little further away, but it’s still hard to deal with the questioning, the anxiety, the wondering whether you shouldn’t have left in the first place. no, darling, of course you should have left. year 5 is a year filled with so much more stability and happiness, it’s like you can’t recognise the person you used to be, the world you used to live in. if you thought that you will never truly make it out of there, my cards are here to tell you that there is a day where you will stop wanting to cry before you go to sleep, there is a day where the demons will shut up for good. so don’t give up! you’ll make it out of there if it’s the last thing you do, because that’s you: strong, persistent, and forever optimistic in your heart. and this personality of yours is what makes you lucky. when you want something with all of your heart, the universe can’t help but want to give it to you.

PILE FOUR: NIGHT

pile four, your reading is all about finding love! things are about to slow down for you now, and it looks like it will continue to be slow for awhile. and honestly, for you i don’t think that’s a bad thing at all, seeing as you are just coming out of having had to make difficult choices and work hard for what you want. for the next year or so, you’ll simply be continuing what you’ve started and letting the payoff roll in. in year 2, however, you’ll begin to look around at your life again and find out what is it you want next. at that point, perhaps you will come to the conclusion that it is love you’re looking for. or maybe it’s just excitement, since you’re pretty collected yourself. you’re the kind to meditate and sleep on things before you decide, and the person you meet in year 3 is decisively... not that kind of person. they’re hardworking, smart, funny and honest, but they’re also rather blunt and impatient. they’ll jump from one thing to the next without thought; they’ll argue with you through the walls of your room is it means they’ll win. you may wonder if this person is going to force you become their parent. well, no. this person has entered your life to show you that the world has so much more to offer if your just take the leap and jump. this person is here to show you that sometimes, you don’t sleep on decisions. you just go for it. once you begin to see the charm of this person, they will light up your life as a friend, a listening ear, then a worthy partner, then a worthy opponent, and then finally, in year 4... a worthy soulmate. and you will realise that taking risks is actually not as scary as it seemed, because this person is right next to you, and will be there to help you pick up the pieces should you fall. this might be a new feeling for you, because you come from a background of having to watch your own back all the time. being able to take calculated risks is what pushes one up from being a prince to a king. it pushes you and your life purpose to its full potential, and even if the ride of taking risks and forging ahead is rocky with this person in year 5, you will come out hardships closer than ever, stronger than ever.

#pick a card #pick a card reading #pick a pile #pick a pile reading #tarot reading #free tarot reading

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dameronology · 4 years ago

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hey could you please do angst prompts 1 and 4 for peter parker if you have time??

1) “i needed you and you weren’t there.” + 4) “why do you keep making promises you can’t keep?” & peter parker

The beginning of college was supposed to be a real turning point for you and Peter.

After a few rough years of juggling his vigilante-hood and nearly losing you a one many times, he had sworn to you that your first year at NYU was going to mark the start of a real, mature relationship. No longer would you be involved in a tumultuous teenage affair, but rather a dedicated and communicative partnership. You were adults now -- not teenagers, not high schoolers who lived with their parents. You'd managed to find yourselves an apartment, and you actually cooked rather than ordering take out, and he was even doing his own laundry. All signs of mature adults, no?

It wasn't that easy, though. Whilst Peter was desperate to move on from all those time he'd unintentionally hurt you, all the things that had made him to do it in the first place still existed. He was still Spiderman, and he still risked his life every night trying to protect the city. His promises to you didn't change anything except the weight on his shoulders.

And whilst the first few months were fine - perfect, even - it didn't take long before the cracks started to appear. Peter was back on late nights and early mornings, running between college classes and police calls like a headless chicken. You were back to a brief kiss on the lips in the morning and then...well, that was it. He'd be gone the rest of the day; home after you'd gone to bed, and out the door before you'd woken up. The only signs that he'd even been there at all were the dishes he left in the sink.

The worst part of it all was that you were helpless. This was supposed to be him trying - and if you told him his best wasn't good enough, what kind of monster would that make you? Every other time you'd brought the issue up, he'd looked like a kick puppy; sad brown eyes and pouty lips. An expression that made it impossible to do anything other than just hold him.

After accidentally falling asleep on the sofa one night, you were awoken by the sound of Peter coming through the window. His feet softly landed on the carpet, hair sticking up in a thousand different directions from his mask. He looked tired - well past it, in fact - but you knew this was probably going to be the only chance you had for a while to talk to him.

"Hey," you gently greeted him. The blankets that were around your shoulders slipped down as you sat up, rubbing your eyes.

"Hey, baby," he replied. "How was your day?"

"The usual," you said. "I had classes then work."

"Same here-"

"- Pete, we need to talk," you cut him off. Peter's face fell slightly.

"O-oh, okay," he stammered. "Like, right now?"

"Yeah," you said, "because this is the first time I've seen you in two weeks and if I don't do it now, I probably never will."

Putting his mask down, Peter took a seat at the end of the couch by your feet. He observed as you reached for the TV remote, pausing the episode of How I Met Your Mother that you'd fallen asleep watching earlier. It was almost as though he were watching your movements carefully, trying to read them for a sign of whatever the hell was going on. Unfortunately, his Spidey senses didn't stretch that far.

"Are you breaking up with me?" he blurted. Word vomit.

The silence that followed was enough to break his heart.

"I..." you trailed off. "I don't know."

"What's going on?" he asked.

"I'll just come straight out with it," you murmured. "I don't think you have time for a relationship."

Peter's eyes widened -- mostly because he knew you were right, but also because it sounded so much more painful coming from you. He'd managed to juggle things the last four years, but it was only getting worst.

"I - of course I do!" he insisted. "I know things have been a bit busy lately but I promise as soon as I've dealt with-"

"- why do you keep making promises you can't keep?" you cut him off. "You promised that you'd make time for me in senior year, and that didn't happened. Then you promised it would be during the summer, and that was a lie too. This - this apartment and this year and this fucking life - was supposed to be it, but it's not. So it leads me to think that maybe...maybe this is a problem that can't be fixed, Peter."

"Of course it can," his voice was wobbling as he spoke.

Peter stood up, stalking across the other side of the room. Had his suit always felt so claustrophobic?

"I don't know," you leapt off the sofa, following him. "Because it's not fair on me to keep waiting around for you but it's not fair on you to have to deal with so much."

"I am there for you," he murmured.

"No, you're not - and I'm not saying it's your fault, but it's just the truth," you said. "Like last week, when I had one of my finals? And you promised you would help me study and drive me to the exam the next morning?"

Peter's whole body froze when he remembered. You'd stuck to every one of the commitments you'd made to him, and he knew it was supposed to go both ways.

"I am so sorry-"

"- don't," you cut him off. "I needed you and you weren't there. It's too late for apologies now but I think that entire situation is just a metaphor for how we are now."

"What do you mean?"

"It's a cycle - you're busy, I'm busy, then we promise that we'll try but then we never do," you explained. "I can't keep doing it anymore."

He let out a sigh of defeat, leaning against the counter. "Is this a one final chance thing or an it's over thing?"

Neither of you wanted to say it, because you both knew the answer.

#im so sorry this took me centuries to write #big oof #work is busy #but i'm quitting tomorrow so it's fine <3 #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker x you #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker reader insert #spiderman x reader #spiderman oneshot #peter parker oneshot #peter parker fanfiction #spiderman imagines #marvel imagines #avengers imagines #peter parker blurb #avengers blurb

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chaozsilhouette · 3 years ago

Text

Turbulent Beginnings

This forms the opening act to Macaque’s story, showing just how different his and Wukong’s early lives were and why he took Wukong’s disappearance so hard.

The idea Macaque was born from the wind was inspired by @animemoonprincess. And yes, I am a shameless fan of Macaque originally having white fur. The angst is just too perfect.

Brace yourselves, this isn’t going to be pretty. I am essentially shoving our boy through an emotional meat grinder.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

On a remote island, a day’s travel from China’s eastern shore, a massive hurricane raged as it had since the beginning of this world. The surrounding storms fed into it as its winds carved stone. No life had dared blossom on its soil out of fear of a painful demise. The merciless storm drank deeply of the waters of the sea, draining all aspects of potential and life before casting it aside. Not even curious spirits were spared.

Various deities had wondered why such a storm existed or why the Jade Emperor allowed such a dangerous presence to continue unchecked. Most believed that since the hurricane was stationary and prove no threat to the established order of the world, it was not important.

One day the hurricane vanished. As though it had never existed. Or rather that it had been transformed into something else.

It was the night of a new moon and with the hurricane gone, the island experienced its first cloudless sky. The only one to witness the momentous occasion was a monkie with pure white fur and six ears. Minding his manners, the nameless monkie bowed to the four winds in greeting.

The newborn proceeded to spend his days searching the island for something. Some clue as to the reason behind his birth. He could hear strange voices and words he didn’t understand yet at the same time could. He knew he wasn’t the only creature alive, so why was he alone?

For food, he walked his way through a cave system towards the sea, where he enjoyed the fish that were drawn in through the whirlpools and the mussels that clung to the sharp rocks. He grew to savor the taste of life, even though there was a part of him that craved something different.

Almost forty years passed before he mustered the courage to leave everything he knew to seek out those voices. He gathered all the driftwood and rope that had drifted onshore over the decades, fashioned it into a makeshift raft, and sailed towards the closest source of voices.

His voyage was actually pretty boring once he cleared the whirlpools.

The only exciting part about it was when that strange fish tried to sink his raft. It was bigger than any fish he’d previously seen with a mouth to match. Didn’t mean it survived past the first blow. Taking a bite Macaque wasn’t sure if he liked this fish. The muscles were tough and the flesh was rough on his tongue. He didn’t particularly like the taste. But there was enough to feed him for a full day.

In the end, he chose to eat a third of the fish’s muscles along with its heart before tossing back into the water.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

Docking on dry land was an experience that would haunt him for years.

At first, he was filled with wonder at the sight of buildings and new creatures riding rafts far bigger than his.

When he stepped onto shore the whispers began.

The creatures, who he later learned were called humans, were pointing out his ears. They acknowledged his obvious intelligence. He heard them grip wooden instruments tightly. It was as if they expected him to do something.

No one made a move against him. No one approached him, but he could tell he wasn’t wanted. Everywhere he turned he saw eyes that cursed his every existence.

He didn’t stay in that village for long. In his mind, satisfying his curiosity wasn’t worth being stared at as though he was the source of all evil.

Demon.

That is what they called him. Was that what he was?

He didn’t know, but he didn’t like it.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

He aimlessly wandered the countryside for far too long.

The first act of kindness he received was from a couple who could not have children of their own. He stumbled upon them by accident, but instead of the normal fearful expressions he’d come to expect they greeted him with genuine smiles and an offer to join them for dinner.

They took him in and treated him like family. He became the son they always wanted. They taught him how to properly speak and how to walk comfortably on two limbs. They blessed him with a name.

They were kind and nurturing. In another world, they may have been called bodhisattvas. But sadly, due to them being ordinary mortals, his time with them only lasted four decades.

He buried them with love but grew resentful of his weak emotions.

He learned what it was like to have someone welcome him home after a long day. He learned to savor the taste of a mother’s home-cooked meal. He enjoyed having a father figure who was willing to teach him old military tactics. He experienced friendly competitions to see who could paint the most accurate portrait of a flower they saw earlier that day. It was everything he never knew he craved and then it was gone. Leaving him with an empty home and a broken heart.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

Nearly fifty years later he joined a band of traveling performers.

Their natural oddities allowed them to see who he really was and welcome him into their party. With their compassion, he was granted the opportunity to heal. He learned that despite the group’s large size, very few of them had any direct blood relations. What made them special was how they created their own family and turned what many called strange into something beautiful. Out of respect, he delved into the world of entertainment, found he had a natural talent for it.

When he took the stage people assumed he was in costume, but that didn’t matter. The applause of the audience was a gift he cherished. The sheer passion this family expressed through every second in life warmed his heart beyond words. They were just what he needed to bring him out of his depression.

Alas, it was not meant to stay.

One night their camp was ambushed by a group of demons. They were nothing special, hardly worth mentioning. But for him, back then, it was a fight he never imagined. He could easily handle human bandits, so could his family, but never had he traded blows with a small army of his fellow demons. With the rising of the sun, Macaque stared at the cruelly bright sky covered in blood. All around him bodies lay scattered, life essence soaking into the ground. Despite being tasked with fighting off nearly five dozen demonic opponents he managed to survive with barely a scratch, but he was alone. Again.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

He tried to change things by sticking to his fellow demons. At least they lived longer.

Somehow that ended up with him becoming the apprentice to a demon healer for almost a century. She was a cold-hearted bitch with a heart of gold. Meticulous in her work, masterful in deduction, and short-tempered with the foolish. She gave everything to her practice and expected the same from him. It was bitter work, but he found it fulfilling. The knowledge that he now possessed the ability to restore others to peak condition settled some unknown part of his soul.

Of course, they would have visitors who wished to take advantage of her skills or steal the medicine. Between the two of them, they protected their clinic, but they weren’t always together. While she may try to hide it, she wasn’t the strongest demon out there. Apparently, the entire reason she got into medicine was to uncover why she was so weak. Centuries of research turned up nothing, but it did make her incredibly skilled at using poisons with her knives to compensate.

One day after he returned from gathering ingredients, he pulled back the door to find the shop in disarray, five unknown bodies slowly dying of extensive blood poisoning, and his master bleeding out from her severed arms. She always said she had no intention of entering Naraka alone.

Guess she kept her word.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

The cycle repeated itself over centuries. He would experience a brief window of happiness only for it to be savagely stolen from him, leaving him to mourn and curse his weak heart.

The small glimmers of kindness humanity showed him only made him curse their race even harder when he couldn’t walk into a village without being harassed. The humans who had proven stronger were sadly a rare breed. He was rare to encounter one a century and often they perished at the hands of their kind rather than by demons.

There were times when the ignorance had gotten so bad he’d taken to traveling with a constant glamour, disguising himself as an average human. Whenever he was in the presence of other demons, he allowed his true form to manifest, however, he made it look like he only had a single pair of ears. Standing out was the easiest way to wind up in a complicated situation he had no interest in trying to defuse.

That’s not to say his time was wasted.

Quite the contrary, he had learned much during his travels. He could hardly be compared to the happy young monkie, who was ignorant of the dangers and hardships this world held. In a sad attempt to fill the void, Macaque sought out wisdom and strength. He located masters of both the mystic and martial arts. He may have had to lie about his age, he was becoming quite the accomplished liar, but the results were more than worth it. With every stop, he found himself growing more certain of his strength and his identity.

Eventually, he discovered a strange monastery hidden in a cave in the face of a mountain.

He had never seen anything like it during his travels. But what truly drew his attention was the feeling the temple exuded, every stone exuded a strange aurora. Something powerful dwelled within, powerful yet there was an undeniably human quality to it all.

Hiding beneath his usual glamor, Macaque approached the temple with the desire to discover exactly what was being taught. Before he knew what was happening, he was speaking to the immortal sage who was running the joint. Master Subhuti welcomed him to his home and offered some tea. The disguised monkie was bombarded by dozens of questions, all of which he attempted to answer as though he was a normal human.

The master welcomed him as his newest disciple and showed him his new home. Later he learned the master could see through his disguise and sensed his potential. Apparently, the old immortal believed that the monkie would do well to learn his disciplines and he was fascinated by the monkie’s natural talent.Said something about how with proper guidance only the Buddha would be able to peer past his façade.

The monkie even received a new name to celebrate his rebirth. From that day forward he was Liu’Er Mihou, or the Six-Eared Macaque. He liked it. While he cherished the name his first family gifted him, he felt this was a good sign. A tribute to show that he was a changed monkie.

Regardless, he refused to drop his glamor. He had seen too many demons be cast out and attacked for getting sloppy. The other students were not thrilled about the newcomer showing them up and he wasn’t willing to give them a true reason to despise him. He learned quickly, more so than any other human disciple, but that put him at odds with those who were still struggling after years of training.

Macaque distanced himself from the others. They weren’t that interesting anyway. He didn’t care that they talked about him behind his back or were fully aware he could hear them. He couldn’t risk getting close so soon. He was determined to break the cycle. He didn’t care about immortality. He didn’t care about obtaining power. All he wanted was to end the pain. So far things had been working out in his favor.

Then heshowed up…

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

That trice damned monkie with peach-colored fur and markings like a golden mask. He was so naïve about the world. He treated everything as though it was some exciting game. His upbeat energy made Macaque sick. Some twisted part of him wanted to snap his neck just to end it, but a small part was fascinated by it. The other monkie reminded him of a time he had almost forgotten.

The Monkey King, or Sun Wukong, didn’t bother hiding his true appearance. Truthfully, Macaque wasn’t sure he knew how or that he should. He didn’t seem to notice how other students would keep their distance or how they kept their conversations as brief as possible without crossing the threshold into being considered rude.

He was so earnest and happy, it was painful. The new monkie pestered everyone about everything, it was like dealing with a newborn, but it seemed Macaque was his favorite to bother. The worst part was how he stared at Macaque as though he could peer past his glamour. Although Macaque wasn’t sure if that was truly possible. The Master could, but he dedicated centuries to refine his skills. Wait. How old was this annoyance? Perhaps he could smell he wasn’t like the other disciples.

Either way, he knew it was just a matter of time until the truth got out. He just didn’t expect it to be when he was changing.

Each student was offered a meager room for privacy. They were all the same size and offered little to no space for any customization, but the walls were enchanted to cut out sound whenever the doors were closed.

Behind those flimsy walls was the only time Macaque allowed his glamor to drop. While he valued being cautious, even he couldn’t keep up the glamour indefinitely, much less when he was asleep.

It was in that small space of safety that he discovered he wasn’t alone.

He had just allowed himself to relax when a smiling face covered in peach fuzz was shoved into his own.

“I knew it! You’re like me.” Sun Wukong happily exclaimed, stars practically dancing in his eyes.

“Shut up.” Macaque clamped his hand over the other’s mouth. Checking to ensure no one else was present and the door was shut, he faced the intruder. “Have you told anyone?” He hissed, while berating himself for failing to check the ceiling. You always look up when scanning a room, he knew that.

“Nope. Why are you hiding? You’re beautiful.” The cheerful demon spoke as though they were old friends. His golden eyes took in every hair of his fellow monkie’s true appearance.

“I’m a demon. And there is nothing beautiful about me.” Macaque growled.

“Yes, there is.” Wukong insisted. “You didn’t answer my question. Why are you hiding? The Master let me in, I wager he knows about you, so why?”

Sighing, Macaque massaged the bridge of his nose. “I have been hurt enough times to know keeping a low profile is optimal in survival. It is better to keep one’s head down than risk getting called out.” From observation, he knew the newer student wouldn’t leave until he received answers, so the best option was to just give him what he wanted and pray he knew enough to leave.

“That’s no fun.” Wukong stuck his tongue out in distaste. “You shouldn’t have to hide who you are. We were born this way.” He jumped high into the air only to catch himself on his tail with a cheeky grin. “So, they’ll just have to deal with it.”

“Cute speech. But my answer is no. Now leave.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll fix that attitude right up.” Thankfully Wukong left, but not before sending a smile laced with mischief his way. “See you tomorrow.”

Macaque prayed to every deity that would be the end of it. But even he knew it was a futile attempt.

“Do you have a tribe?” Wukong asked, hanging by his tail from Macaque’s favorite tree.

A startled Macaque blinked at the random question. “A what?”

“A tribe. A family. A place to call home?” Wukong asked smoothly even if he wasn’t familiar with the term family until recently he knew it was important.

“Not anymore.” Glaring Macaque returned his focus to his meal.

“Aw.” Wukong knew that look. He had seen plenty of monkeys wear that arura after watching other tribe members die. “Then you should come with me!”

“What?”

“Yeah. You can join my tribe. There are dozens of us back home. Plenty of food and water, you’ll constantly be surrounded by others like us.”

“Other demons?”

“No.” Wukong smiled as though he told a funny joke. “Other monkeys.”

“There is no reason for me to join you.” Macaque stated, wishing he could finish his lunch in peace.

But Wukong wasn’t letting him go that easily. “And there’s no reason for you to refuse.” He stated, ignoring any and all social cues or common sense for respecting personal space.

It went on like that for years. Every day Macaque would awake to find gold eyes staring at him, waiting for his answer to change. Breaks were spent dodging the hyperactive monkie as he tried to eat alone. Training sessions soon found him sparring with the same partner.

The monkie was stubborn no doubt and Macaque feared his actions were slowly breaking down his walls. The pale furred monkie missed having a connection. He adored being able to talk to others, but whenever he opened up he only got hurt.

But maybe, maybe this time could be different…

Wukong was training to obtain immortality. He had already proven to be stronger and more clever than anyone he’d known. The simian showed that he wanted to know him better. He constantly tried to touch his fur, something he called grooming, which felt pretty nice.

Maybe…maybe this time he could truly have a home.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

A streak of light accompanied by a sharp whistle pierced the night sky. For a brief moment, it vanished before exploding in a beautiful display of color and light.

On the monastery’s rooftop, Wukong backflipped in joy at the sight, his golden eyes wide. “Happy New Year!” The monkie cried. In the village below, he could make out dozens of voices echoing the greeting.

It didn’t matter how many times he saw them, fireworks were a sight he always adored. “This has got to be mankind’s greatest invention!” The flowers of fire were simply too beautiful. So unique. Nothing on Flower Fruit Mountain compared to such beauty, it made him thankful he decided to leave.

From the corner of his eye, Wukong noticed that his companion was clutched his ears wincing with every detonation. “You okay, bud?”

“I’m fine. Just loud.” Macaque said. He was truly questioning his sanity by joining Wukong on the roof. Normally he barricaded himself in his room, but his friend was so thrilled about sharing their first New Year together he couldn’t say no.

“Oh.” Somehow the new set of fireworks didn’t look that attractive. “We can go inside if you want.” They were beautiful, but nothing was worth feeling helpless as his friend curled up in pain.

“I’ll be fine. I’m adjusting to the volume. No different than punches that break the sound barrier, right?” Macaque tried flashing a confident grin to varying success.

Wukong suspected that Macaque was lying, but learned enough to know further prying would just cause the other monkie to simply shut out the world. “I’m glad you’re coming with me.”

“You made a persuasive argument.” Anyone who could harass him for nearly five years straight proved their determination.

Wukong playfully stuck his tongue out. “Hehe…Seriously though, I’m happy you chose to be part of my tribe. No one should be alone.”

“Then why have I been for so long.”

“I doubt even Master knows. But you won’t be able to say that anymore.” Wukong wrapped his arms around his best friend. Pulling him close, Wukong faced the fireworks, unconsciously grooming Macaque as he savored every pop of color.

Beneath those gentle digits, Macaque steadied himself against the soothing heartbeat of the one he slowly learned to trust. As the display continued, the pale monkie learned to appreciate the human’s creations. Turns out they weren’t so bad so long as you have the right company.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

“I’m sorry. You’re what?!” Macaque’s response was perfectly justified. There was no way he just heard what he thought he heard.

Wukong flashed a blinding grin. “I’m heading to the Celestial realm. I’ve been given a position in Celestial Bureaucracy.” Not seeing any problems whatsoever.

“Why?” Just why? From everything he heard about those stuck-up deities, they would never hand over a position to anyone without requiring the completion of an impossible task, much less to a demon. Least of all a demon who has done nothing but terrorize others and unleash chaos whenever he went.

“Don’t know. But I got to go right now.” Wukong shrugged as he finished packing. The Gold Star of Venus was waiting just outside the waterfall.

“But what about Flower Fruit Mountain? What about your subjects? What am I supposed to do? How long are you going to be gone?” Macaque fired off a rapid stream of questions. Panic was beginning to take hold.

Wukong, however, was as calm and confident as ever. “Stop worrying so much. Look I’ll be back as soon as I can. Until then you’re in charge.” He finished as though it was obvious.

“Me!” A white tail nearly burst into twice its normal size in shock. “But I have no idea how to run a Court!”

“Neither do I. Not in the traditional sense at least. Look just keep an eye on things. Protect the monkeys from hunters and malicious demons. Sometimes one of the allied demon kings will ask for some help. It’s nothing you haven’t helped me with before. I’ll be back before you know it. I’m sure you’ll be able to handle things until I get back.”

Seeing his companion and good friend growing even more lost, Wukong closed the distance and took his face in both hands. “This is a good thing. If I can make this work, none of us will ever have to worry about being hunted or not having enough food ever again.”

In a snap, Macaque grabbed the king’s arms. “What if I don’t care about any of that? What if I just want you to stay?”

For the first time in their conversation, Wukong’s cocky attitude vanished replaced with a loving smile. Gently prying Macaque’s claws off his shirt, Wukong placed his cheek on a palm as he kissed the knuckles of another. “I can’t. This is too good an opportunity to pass up. This isn’t goodbye. I’ll keep in touch. The time will fly. We’ll make this work. Trust me.”

“Alright, Wukong. I trust you.” Macaque said, ignoring every fiber of his being that screamed this would end poorly.

“If things go wrong, remember I’m just a telepathic call away.” Summoning his cloud, Wukong back flipped onto it with his bag. “Monkey King, out!”

One sonic boom later and he was gone, along with a good chunk of the cave walls.

“Hpmh. That’s my idiot.”

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

How did this happen? How did this happen?!

One moment they were fighting for their lives against the army of the Celestial Realm and the next Macaque bore witness to Wukong being carted away in a diamond snare.

Now as he stared at the charred remains of what once was a growing village of monkeys, Macaque felt something within him change.

For almost two months he had burned in celestial fires. The sounds of the dead and dying rang out, making his namesake almost bleed. He choked on the ashes of the mortal monkeys. The air had a strangely sweet and bitter taste to it.

Macaque lost count of all the times he charged back into the fires to save as many heartbeats as he could. He wasn’t sure but he suspected he blacked out more than once. With every heartbeat that stilled before he could reach them, a part of him followed them into Yama’s realm.

Finally, the fires had died down. They didn’t have anything left to burn.

All around him he saw the pitiful leftovers of what was once a thriving community. He had treated the survivors the best he could, but he lost his medical equipment in the blaze. The only ones he didn’t have to worry about were the monkeys Wukong made immortal, but he did what he could to ease the pain.

But still, he wondered why…why were they staring at him as though they were confused?

Maybe he was overthinking everything. He just worked through 49 days without any sleep. Everything was stable for now. The best course of action was to wash off the ash and get some much-deserved rest.

There was nothing the Celestial Realm could do to Wukong that he couldn’t handle. Besides Macaque didn’t even know how to get there even if he was at full strength. Wukong couldn’t die so it was only a matter of time before someone tripped up allowing him to return home.

He just had to be patient.

Stepping into the clear river, Macaque’s jaw almost dropped as the water around him immediately turned gray. He didn’t realize he was that filthy.

He started scrubbing himself, ducking under the water to ensure he didn’t miss a spot. He had to move a few times due to the sheer amount of shoot and ash that clung to him. The entire cleaning process took a full hour before the water ran clear.

Stepping out, Macaque felt more refreshed than he ever remembered. Shaking to remove as much access water as possible, all the towels were soot so he had to make do, he paused by the waterside to see how much fur he lost. But what he saw met none of his expectations.

Instead of fur that invoked images of the moon, he was cloaked in the color of the darkest ink.

“What happened to me?”

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

Five hundred years.

Five hundred years he searched, for any trace of the legendary Five-Fingered Moutain Buddha used to trap Sun Wukong only to find nothing. Macaque scoured far and wide. Neither the winds nor the shadows could lead him towards his friend.

He picked fights with countless demons who claimed to witness the great Monkey King brought low. It barely took two punches before they broke down crying how it had been nothing but a lie, how they only repeated rumors.

He bargained for any information he could find, but all accounts claimed the mountain didn’t exist. Many refused to answer him on principle of not interfering with the Celestial Realm’s issues. Their last mistake. Others took Wukoong’s punishment as a sign to amass as much power as possible out of fear that they would be targeted next.

Macaque had witnessed the formation of more alliances and territory grabs in the past century than had been recorded in the last thousand years. Demons were becoming more power-hungry and suspicious, which meant even more trouble for the humans. Things were becoming so chaotic, Macaque had to wonder if it was planned.

But he couldn’t dwell on that.

He hadn’t visited Flower Fruit Moutain in years. His clones kept guard, but slowly he was losing the drive to keep replenishing them. The only reason he called that mountain home was because of Wukong. It wasn’t home without him.

But he had to keep looking. Had to keep trying. He would find his friend.

Somehow.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

He tricked himself into thinking this would be different. That he would no longer be alone. That finally he had found a family he could keep.

He was an idiot!

The truth was he was no different than anyone else. The world was Sun Wukong’s toy chest and Macaque was merely a shiny new trinket to bat around until he grew bored. Seeing him with that group, knowing that he chose them over their past, was too much.

He was sick of being left behind. He had been left alone so many times. What made him think he couldn’t be replaced?

He could have attacked, ripped their precious monk to pieces, he could have...should have...but he was tired.

Returning to Flower Fruit Mountain was a chore, but one he swore he would never complete again. The monkeys questioned his return, asking where their king was and if he’d return soon. Macaque ignored them all. He simply walked to the part of the manor he and Wukong had shared for years, where he had been waiting for his return.

Staring at all the knickknacks and souvenirs they had collected from their adventures, Macaque made up his mind. Grabbing a large sturdy bag, he swiftly packed his essentials. In another, he packed non-perishable goods and water containers.

Stepping out, a flash of something peach-colored caught his eye. Spinning around, hope burning a hole in his chest but his dreams once more were proved false. It was just the special peach tree Wukong had planted from the leftover pit he had saved from his time in the Celestial Realm. Apparently, it had reached maturity and was proudly bearing the first fruit Macaque had seen despite having been planted nearly half a millennia ago.

Macaque wasn’t sure why it was so special, Wukong just winked and said it was a surprise for when they could share a fresh one. Feeling something wet on his arm, Macaque looked down to see his hand stretched towards the tree and the memories he held. Feeling his cheeks, he realized he was crying, which was strange as he didn’t think he had any tears left.

Spurred by longing and spite, Macaque plucked six peaches from the tree and stuffed them into his bag. It wasn’t like Wukong was going to miss them. And he needed the food.

#lego monkie kid au #Vanishing Shadow Au #six eared macaque #liu er mihou #sun wukong #abandonment issues #no communication #angst #white macaque

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mckennamayfairgoode · 4 years ago

Text

Don’t Leave Me Now, You Might Love Me Back

Billie Dean Howard x Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Summary: In which feelings get involved in a friends with benefits situation and you are tired of watching Billie Dean Howard walk away.

Warnings: Just a little angst and some pining. Also implied smut, but nothing too graphic. As a treat.

Song: One Day by Sharon Van Etten

A/N: I’m not saying all of my fics will be angsty with a side of yearning, but I’m not saying they won’t be either. 🤷‍♀️ This one kind of ran away with me. Hopefully it’s comprehensible, at least.

The faint sound of a soft indie song plays through the speakers in your apartment, a gentle melody that makes you think of morning walks in the springtime. A time you tend to keep to yourself, selfishly maybe, but one you treasure. You cherish those moments when you can see the world beginning to wake up around you. When spouses send their significant others off with a kiss at the front door, children tote their backpacks to the bus stop, dogs are walked, mail is delivered, life blooms. You cherish it, and when you can, you capture those moments like lightning bugs in a jar.

You lay on your stomach spread across the bed sideways with your feet hanging off the edge and the sheets twisted around your hips like an octopus. You’re opening the hatch of your old Polaroid camera when lips begin to trail kisses up your spine. Shivers follow in their wake, leaving goosebumps along your skin. “I don’t understand your fascination with that old thing,” her voice husks from behind you. Long, acrylic nails travel up your bare sides as she crawls on top of you.

A smile plays at the corners of your mouth. “Careful, Billie Dean,” you tease without malice. “There’s a lot I could say regarding my ‘fascination’ with things older than me.”

Billie laughs, low and husky, from the back of her throat. The tingle it shoots down your body makes your toes curl. “Oh, darling, we both know the consequences of you saying anything like that.” She nips at each of your shoulder blades, one after the other. Her actions are slow and purposeful, just enough to tease you, to torment, to torture but never enough to hurt. Her nose follows a path up the back of your neck before you feel her lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” she asks, coming to rest completely on top of you in a pile of skin and limbs and warmth.

Your eyes flutter closed, your hands pausing in their motions as you get distracted. The smirk you feel against your skin causes your belly to jolt pleasantly. “Do we?” you ask playfully, once you feel you can speak without your voice wavering, just to see how she’ll react. As you always do. A part of you is aware that playing with fire is a mistake, but deep down, you know it’s a mistake you will make again and again. You would withstand the heat a thousand times if it meant you could sit in her fire, let her flames consume you whole, and remember how it felt for her to burn you right up.

Billie captures your earlobe between her teeth. She bites down gently, just once in reprimand, before letting go. You swallow the moan in your throat and go back to your Polaroid. Billie Dean loves to play games and she is infinitely better at them than you are. From the moment you met her, you were destined to lose.

Her arms come up around your neck, cheek brushing against yours as she settles her chin on your shoulder. You can feel her eyes following the movements of your fingers. “Tell me,” she demands quietly.

You hum. “Tell you what?”

She pinches your hip playfully and smirks to herself when your body jerks beneath her. “What’s so special about this camera? You know phones do it better, right?”

You huff, throwing her a look out of the corner of your eye. “Yes, but phones are so impersonal.” You pull out the old film cartridge and throw it on your bedside table, sliding a new one in place and securing the hatch. “If you take a picture with this, you’re in the moment. You’re a part of it.” You raise the camera above your head, just enough to get the right angle. “You get one shot and you have to make it count.” You look at the camera and click the shutter release button. There’s a whirr as the picture drops free and slides through the slot. You grab it and give it a few shakes, before turning and showing it to Billie. “One shot, one memory. Right here.”

She hums, a peach colored nail tracing the edge of the photograph. “It is a nice picture,” she admits. Your triumphant smile lasts only a few moments before she speaks again. “Until it gets destroyed or lost or tossed in the garbage.”

You roll your eyes and snatch the picture back, holding it protectively against your chest. “That’s why you take care of the things you love, Ms. Howard.” You miss the adoring smile she gives you as you look fondly down at the picture in your hand. Your heart blooms in your chest. You’re smiling at the camera, the light in your eyes bright like the happiness inside you is bursting at the seams and nothing could quite possibly put out your fire. Your gaze slides past your own face, drawn to Billie always, no matter where or who you're with. She is your sun and you will keep looking no matter how much it hurts.

While Billie always takes your breath away, you think she looks her best like this: make-up free, disheveled hair, and bare shoulders. She’s smiling, that real smile she reserves for those moments when she’s away from the cameras and her nose crinkles ever-so-slightly at the corners. It makes her eyes shine, beautiful and bold and adoring, where they look into the camera’s lens. But she’s not looking at the camera.

She’s looking at you.

The bed jostling underneath you is what rouses you from your deep sleep. It takes you a moment to orient yourself before you breathe in through your nose and stifle a yawn against your pillow. Cracking open your eyes, you sleepily lift your head and take a peek around the room. There’s a sliver of light filtering through the crack beneath your bathroom door. You lay your head back down and listen to the sink run in the background. The sound of Billie in your apartment, existing in the same space as you, fills you with a warmth that causes you to doze off.

You manage to open your eyes again when the sounds of rustling and movement perviate the room. “Billie?” you call sleepily.

“Shh,” she soothes you softly, brushing your hair back with a slender hand. “Go back to sleep, sweetheart.”

“Where‘re you goin’?” you slur after opening your eyes and catching a glimpse of her fully dressed in last night’s clothes, purse in hand.

Her nails trace the outline of your neck before she dips her head and presses a kiss against your forehead. “I have to go, baby. I have a show to film in the morning.”

You hum sleepily, leaning into her touch where her nails scratch gently at your scalp. “Stay,” you whisper, your tongue not obeying your mind to be quiet and let her go.

“I can’t, sweetheart. I’ll call you later, okay?”

You withhold a sigh. “Okay,” you say even though you’re not sure you believe her.

With one more kiss pressed to your head, she turns to go. You watch through bleary eyes as Billie Dean Howard once again walks out of your life. You try to ignore the sinking feeling in your chest, but the weight is an anchor and you feel it so deeply.

You shuffle through the junk mail you pulled from your postbox, hovering in front of your own apartment door like you’re waiting for someone else to invite you inside. You’re lost in your own head, stuck in an endless cycle of trying not to think about Billie Dean Howard while simultaneously doing nothing but thinking about her.

You knew getting involved with her would only end in heartache on your part, that you were nothing more than a passing fancy, a distraction she entertained only when she was in town. But the moment you met and she looked at you with those eyes and that smile, you knew you were done for. You knew from the beginning that you would give and give and give until there was nothing left for her to take.

That’s okay, you decide internally for it’s easy to have resolve when she’s not in front of you. When you’re not inhaling her perfume or touching her skin or hearing her voice purr sweet nothings into your ear. I don’t need her.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

You freeze in place, heart thumping a steadily growing rhythm beneath your rib cage. Turning your head, you find Billie standing behind you, one hand holding her purse and the other a pair of sunglasses that probably cost more than you earn in a month. An acrylic nail traces the edge of one lens, a rouge pink color that matches her sweater and the floral pattern of her dress. You raise your gaze to hers and feel your breath hitch when your eyes meet.

“Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?” she purrs, her lips twitching into that familiar smile, part seductive, part amused because Billie knows she holds the entire world in her hands and uses that power to her advantage.

“Hi, Billie,” you manage to say, inwardly cursing yourself as the resolve you previously had drains from your body and all that’s left is the desire to curl into her warmth and call her home.

Billie steps closer to you, backing you up until you feel the cool surface of the apartment door against your back. “I missed you, darling,” she murmurs, her breath warm against your lips as she stares into your eyes with an expression that makes your knees particularly weak. You want to believe her. You want to believe that the shine in her eyes is honesty and not proof of a lie well said. You want to believe, but you don’t and you can’t. So you kiss her.

She kisses you back feverishly, pressing against you in a way that allows you to feel every part of her and you want nothing more than to peel her out of her clothes and feel her skin beneath your hands. You push your tongue into her mouth, wanting to taste, to consume, to worship. To get on your knees and beg her to love you. But you can’t and she won’t. So you keep kissing her.

She smells of expensive perfume and cigarettes. You breathe it in like one would a bouquet of flowers and wonder if it will ever be enough. There’s a soft thump as something is dropped to the floor before you feel both of her hands cup your cheeks and pull you impossibly closer. You cling to her, tightening your grip on her hair. A hum passes from her mouth to yours and you have never felt so high in your life. She is a drug and you are addicted.

You can’t help the whimper that escapes your lips when Billie pulls away, her chest rising with each heavy breath she takes and you watch it with half lidded eyes, consumed by lust and love and want and need.

She throws a glance over your shoulder at the door behind you. She doesn’t linger there, returning to you like you might disappear if she stops looking into your eyes for more than a moment. Her thumb trails along your jaw causing you to arch your neck and lean into her touch. You bite back a whimper, trying and failing to quell the heat inside. Her words come and when they do, they are a slow, gentle rasp that causes your stomach to ache pleasantly. “Can I come in?” she asks.

You barely manage to nod, vaguely aware of her stooping to pick up her purse from the floor as you struggle to find the right key with your shaking hands. She pulls you into another kiss, open mouthed and heady, while you put the key in the lock and give it a twist. As you open the door and Billie guides you backwards into the apartment, as your hold tightens on her hair, as your breath mingles with hers and it feels like you are not two souls anymore, but one, you realize, with a pained lurch of your heart, that you do need her. And how you hate to be wrong.

“So how are things?” Rina gives you a curious glance over the rim of her coffee cup, one dark brow arched.

“Fine,” you answer, shrugging and absentmindedly leaning your chair back on two legs. To avoid her knowing gaze, you observe through the window as people meander down the sidewalk, passing by the coffee shop where you and your friend sit. It’s only mid-morning, but the weekend has coaxed most people outside and into the city. They rush around in groups and pairs, tugging on scarves and talking on cellphones. You watch as a little boy darts down to the toy store a few shops away much to the chagrin of his parents. A small smile pulls at your lips as he gestures excitedly to the display he can see behind the glass.

Rina’s voice comes abruptly from the other side of the table, breaking the easy silence that had settled like a warm blanket between you. “Where’s your camera?”

You shrug again. “What do you mean?” you ask even though you know.

She gives you a chastising look. “You know what I mean. Any other day, you’d have that old polaroid glued to your hands.”

“I don’t know,” you say, the tips of your fingers tracing the rim of your coffee cup. A couple walks by your window, holding hands and cuddling close in the cold autumn weather. Two men, one shorter with blonde hair and a kind face, the other older and distinguished with grey at his temples. You find them lovely. The younger man’s scarf suddenly comes loose, blowing behind him in the chill breeze. His partner gives him a fond look, reaching over and tucking the garment more securely around his neck. The younger man grins, dimples appearing in his cheeks, before he leans up and kisses his lover on the tip of his nose. The older man smiles and you can see the years disappear from his face as he looks at his lover with stars in his eyes. Click, you think. “I just haven’t been taking pictures lately,” you respond finally. You try to ignore the jealousy rearing its ugly head inside of you, the envy you feel for something you never had. Something you couldn’t call yours in the first place.

“What’s going on, Y/N?” Rina sits up and ducks her head to meet your eyes. “What ever happened to Miss Hollywood?”

You snort. “Nothing happened to Miss Hollywood,” you answer casually, as though you haven’t been thinking about Billie Dean Howard since the day you met her.

“You sure? Because you don’t talk about her, and when you don’t talk about something, that means there’s more going on and you’re just not telling me.” Rina’s big brown eyes plead with you from across the table. You know she has good intentions, but you’re just not ready yet. How can you explain something you can barely understand yourself?

At what point in your fling with a medium did you even fall in love with her? You don’t know. All you know is that every time she walks away, you feel a little less whole. All you know is that whenever you see her smile, you can feel the cracks within you sealing like fresh cement in a fissured pavement. You know you miss her when she’s gone and she smokes in front of a window so you don’t have to breathe it in and she likes to cuddle after making love. And you realize, with a start, that you don’t remember when having sex became ‘making love’ either.

You feign a sigh. “Where did you get your Psychology degree? Because I don’t feel comfortable talking about this with someone who’s not a trained professional.”

“Y/N!” Rina gives you a gentle kick beneath the table, sounding so exasperated that you laugh, genuinely for the first time in weeks and it feels so good, you can’t believe you forgot how. The coffee shop’s bell rings and you turn to look, more out of reflex than anything, as two women stroll into the cafe. The laughter dies in your throat. Oh.

Billie Dean stands in front of the counter, another woman at her side. She’s beautiful with high cheekbones and long, golden hair piled atop her head. They stand close, exchanging laughter and smiles, their shoulders brushing with a familiarity that makes you burn from the inside out. You clench your mug in your hands and deliberately turn away.

That night, you find yourself pliant beneath Billie’s expert hands, her lips hot against the skin of your collarbone. You’re a mess underneath her, but that burning jealousy is not far from your mind. “Who was that?” You manage to gasp between rakes of her teeth against the tendons of your neck. Maybe if your head was a bit more clear, you wouldn’t have asked. Maybe if you weren’t foggy and clouded and full of so much emotion, you would be able to think straight. But you haven’t been able to think straight since you met Billie.

“Who was who, darling?” She asks, sliding her hands under your shirt and raking her nails down your sides.

“At the coffee shop-” Your breathing stutters to a stop as her thigh shifts between your legs. “Downtown,” you emphasize, tugging at her curls to get her attention, but mainly because you just need something to do with your hands.

“You saw me?” She asks curiously, but she doesn’t sound worried. The words are muffled against your skin as she trails kisses up your jaw.

“I was there-” you whimper as she bites a particularly sensitive spot “-with Rina.”

Billie hums against your neck. “That was just a friend, sweetheart. I’ve known her for years,” she explains offhandedly like you had just asked her for tomorrow’s forecast. Frustration builds inside you, but just for a moment. It’s hard to focus with the woman you love making it difficult to remember even your own name.

“Okay,” you say even though you’re not sure you believe her. But it doesn’t matter. You tremble and shake and fall apart in her hands only for all your pieces to scatter on the ground at her feet. You know you’re going to have to pick them up yourself, but until then, you will savor this moment. The moment you made love to the sun and did not burn.

Your phone vibrates with an incoming call and you barely give it a glance before you answer. “Hello?”

“Hello to you too, sweetheart,” a warm voice purrs in your ear. You almost drop your phone, but manage to keep a tight hold on it as you press it closer to your ear. Like if you do, you will feel Billie’s warmth.

“Billie?”

“Who else would be calling you at two in the morning?” The teasing tone in her words is familiar and your heart races at the sound of it.

“Just you as far as I know,” you say, smiling into the phone.

You can hear her hum, just barely, followed by the flick of a lighter and the sound of her inhaling. “I just got into town. My flight got delayed four hours due to some storm in the middle -of-nowhere Kansas." The exasperation in her voice makes your lip curl fondly. "I know it's late, but I was wondering if you would like some company?”

“Are you saying you want to see me?” you ask, feeling bold when she’s not there for you to crumble beneath her knowing eyes.

There’s a pause, just long enough for your heart to clench uncomfortably, before you hear her exhale. “I want to see you, Y/N,” she says, all sincerity and tenderness. You feel like flying.

“Then come over,” you retort, warmth lacing your voice and you wonder if she can hear the love threaded inside. A sudden knock at your door has you turning from your spot at the counter. “Hold on, Billie, someone’s here,” you say into the phone before making your way over and tugging it open.

Billie smiles at you, one shoulder leaning against the door frame. She still has her phone to her ear as she meets your eyes. “Hello, darling,” she says and you realize you are soaring.

You always seem to know the moment she leaves the bed. The instant she moves, you’re wide awake like your body is attuned to every movement of hers. She, the goddess of beauty and elegance. You, her faithful and loyal disciple. Always.

You blink steadily at your apartment ceiling. You should just roll over and go back to sleep, but something keeps you awake. The need to hear her, maybe. The need to just feel her presence, possibly.

You listen as she moves around your bathroom. There’s the steady sound of the sink followed by cabinet drawers being opened and closed then the sink again. A car honks outside. You suddenly remember that a world exists outside of your bubble and any moment now, Billie Dean will be out there without you.

Eventually, you hear the bathroom door open and you suddenly can't bear the thought of her leaving. You know that one of these days, you will lose all control. You will get on your knees, heart in your hands, and beg her to love you, but you don't want that day to be today so you roll over, feigning sleep. A few short moments later, heels click on your hardwood floor. Your body buzzes at her presence as she stops at your bedside. You feel her fingers brushing the hair from your eyes then trailing down your cheek.

Lips press against your forehead, one long moment that makes your insides clench. “Sweet dreams, darling,” she whispers against your skin. It is sweet and intimate and you wonder if she’s doing it to further convince you of the lie or if it actually means something. You tell yourself it has to be the former.

She moves away, taking the sound of her expensive heels with her.

You listen, but you can’t watch her walk away. Not anymore.

“I can’t do this,” you murmur.

“What’s that, darling?” Billie asks, her back to you as she sits in front of the hotel vanity. Her hand pauses, hovering in the air with a mascara brush firmly in her grip. You can feel her eyes on you, and it takes everything inside of you not to meet them.

Your hands grip the sheets beneath you. “I said, I can’t do this,” you repeat, stare firmly fixed on the ceiling.

“Can’t do what?” Billie sets down her makeup and turns to face you.

“This,” you gesture at the room aimlessly. Frustration balls up in your stomach like a spool of yarn, tangled and twisted and infinite. You sit up and start reaching for your clothes, tugging them on haphazardly as Billie watches.

“Now, Y/N-” Billie begins.

You cut her off, “No, Billie. Please.”

She pauses, eyebrows drawing together. You tug on your shoes, almost stumbling over your own feet in your haste to get out of the room. You won’t let her leave this time. This time, it will be you. Billie’s voice comes out in a croak when she speaks: “Please what?”

“Please just let me go,” you plead, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. You brush impatiently at your wet eyelids.

Billie stands, clutching the sheer robe in her hands as she pulls it tighter around her shoulders. Your eyes linger. On the hands that held you, on the throat she had bared just moments ago as she lay beneath you, on the mouth that said things it knew you wanted to hear. “I don’t understand where this is coming from, Y/N.”

You laugh bitterly, a fire suddenly roaring to life inside of you. “Exactly, because you can’t see. You’re a medium and you can see things that others wouldn’t believe, but you can’t see what’s right in front of you.” You sniff, the fire burning down to embers as quickly as it had appeared. You just feel tired. You shuffle closer to the door, refusing to meet her eyes. If you meet her eyes, it will all be over and you will cave as you always do.

“Y/N-” Billie steps forward, hands reaching out for you as if the distance between you isn’t so unbearably large. As if there isn’t a vast canyon between you, as if you aren't more than just a speck on the other side.

You shake your head and dart back another step. “I’ve tried,” you say, voice broken, the words stabbing you in the throat each time you speak. “I’ve tried for months, but I can’t- I just can’t, Billie.”

“Sweetheart, please,” Billie murmurs, her voice seeming to catch in the back of her throat. “Just tell me what’s going on. What don’t I see?” She sounds desperate almost, but you chalk that up to your ears only hearing what they want to hear. She’s proven time and time again that you are nothing to her but a way to pass the time. The reminder is a bucket of ice water poured over your head. It chills you to the bone.

You resist the urge to turn, to look, to comfort. “I just- I can’t keep watching you walk away. Because every time you do, you take a piece of me with you and eventually, I won’t have any pieces left.” You grab the doorknob and jerk open the door, staring into the empty hallway of the hotel. “I hoped for months that I was wrong, that maybe you could feel something for me, but it’s time that I realize it didn’t mean anything to you. I won’t let you take pieces of me anymore. I can’t,” you say, your voice cracking and hope wilting in your chest like a lone flower in the middle of the sidewalk.

You ignore the warnings in your head to run, to not look back. You chance a glance over your shoulder anyway, instantly meeting Billie’s gaze. It’s a blurry painting, but you can see the sadness in her eyes, the pain in her expression. It’s not real, a part of you whispers. Choking back a sob, you gather your broken pieces, and walk out of the door and out of Billie’s life.

Your phone lights up with another call, buzzing persistently in your hand.

Billie Dean

47 times in two days. You wonder if she’s sleeping. You remind yourself that it’s not your problem.

Your fingers itch to pick it up. You know you should just turn it off. You know that the pain that lances through you every time her name appears on the screen isn’t worth the small victory you might feel when you see her leave another voicemail. Maybe a part of you reveled in watching her chase after you. Maybe a part of you wanted her to yearn, to feel, to need. Just like you.

The other part of you, the part that loved Billie Dean with every fiber of your being, the part that bloomed like a flower in spring every time you thought of her smile, just wanted her to come home.

You envision a world where you didn’t walk out of that hotel. Maybe you got to the elevator and maybe you turned around at the sound of your name and maybe Billie had chased you down the hallway in her sheer robe and maybe she kissed you. Maybe you made love once again with the sun rising to meet you, a new day, a new start. Maybe she asked you to stay. Maybe you said yes.

But this isn’t that world.

You turn your phone off.

You stand in front of your kitchen window absentmindedly blowing into your mug as you watch the sun begin its slow descent to the horizon. It’s springtime, your favorite part of the year. It doesn’t feel much like it, but the evidence is all around you. In the shade of the trees, in the flowers and the leaves, in the birds and the clear expanse of the sky. Even in the sound of children playing on the sidewalk. You wonder when you became so numb to the things you love. To the things that used to fill you with joy and warmth. And then you wonder why you’re wondering. Because you know why, but even after all this time, you find it hard to pin blame on the woman who promised you nothing. She was never yours, and she never said she would be. But dammit, you were hers.

You try to watch the sun set and not the street down below. You try not to notice how a woman walks by with hair a similar shade of honey blonde (too much blonde, not enough honey). You try not to remember how she once told you sparrows were her favorite, or how you can see them now as they sing and flutter from powerline to tree and back again. You try to ignore that feeling of longing you get when you hear a child’s excited squeal followed by the sound of someone laughing loudly, joyfully. You try to quell that sense of resentment burning in your chest as the world moves on while you feel stuck in a prison of your own making. You take a sip of your coffee and promptly make a face when you realize it’s gone cold without you noticing.

A sudden knock at your door has you turning on the spot. You give it a weary look, before sighing and placing your mug in the sink. You approach your door just in time to see an envelope being slipped beneath the crack. It glides across the hardwood floor and slows to a stop at your sock-covered feet. You stare down at it, too shocked to move.

It’s the loopy, elegant handwriting that catches your attention. Your heart plummets into your stomach. You bend down and scoop it up with shaking fingers. It’s a normal white envelope, a little plain for Billie’s taste, but you’d know that handwriting anywhere. It’s the words on the front that make tears well in your eyes.

It meant everything to me.

The lump in your throat feels like it’s made of glass with the way it tears you up from the inside. You try to swallow it down. You want to feel nothing. You want to want for nothing.

With shaking hands, you open the envelope and watch as something small and square falls out and lands in your open palm. It’s a photograph.

It’s you.

It’s- Billie Dean’s smile is soft as she looks at you, the both of you bare, you twisted beneath the sheets and her on top of you. Your heart aches and burns and cries. You don’t know what to feel when realization hits you, hard and all at once. I still need her. And this time, you don’t give a damn that you were wrong.

You drop the Polaroid, letting it float to the ground like a forgotten feather from a bird long gone, and speed towards the door, the hinges squeaking in protest when you throw it open.

“Billie!” You yell out, speeding down the hallway in your socks and your pajamas like a crazy person. You don’t care if the neighbors hear. You don’t care if they call the cops. You don’t care, you don’t care, you don’t care. “BILLIE!”

You dart around the corner of your hallway, down the stairs and out the front door of your apartment building, still screaming her name at the top of your lungs and ignoring the bewildered looks of your neighbors as you let the door swing shut noisily behind you. You’ve just made it on the sidewalk when you almost run directly into a figure dashing back towards the front door steps. You manage to stop yourself from colliding, swaying dangerously as you try to regain your balance. The person catches you by your shoulders, steadying you on your feet.

You look up and instantaneously feel yourself freeze. You’re breathing heavily from the mad dash or adrenaline or fear or maybe it’s just love; love for Billie Dean Howard and want for her too.

Dark brown eyes the color of molasses look down at you fondly. “Hi, sweetheart,” she murmurs, her voice husky and warm and if home is a person, you know it’s her. It has to be. Because your heart has never felt at peace as it does in this very moment, with you in her arms, your face in her hands, and your fingers threaded in her hair.

“You’re here,” you whisper. You savor the moment, watching as her nose crinkles when she smiles, her eyes warm and tender in a way you have never seen before. The tips of her acrylic nails graze the skin of your cheek, gently as if she’s afraid you’ll break. I won’t, you want to say. I am whole.

“Of course I am,” she says back, just as soft. “Where else would I be?”

And there, in the springtime, with children and parents shuffling around you as they return home for the day, with dogs getting their last walks before bed, with street lamps buzzing, with life in bloom all around you, you finally feel complete. And there, in the middle of the sidewalk with sparrows singing a song from the trees above you, in the protective circle of her arms, you are home.

And there, you kiss her.

#billie dean howard x reader #billie dean howard #sarah paulson x reader #sarah paulson imagine #american horror story imagine #american horror story #billie dean howard imagine #american horror story murder house #ahs x reader #ahs murder house #billie dean x reader #ahs fic #ahs fandom #ahs fanfiction #wlw fic #wlw imagine #sarah paulson fic

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eternalsimp · 4 years ago

Text

Cursed Fears (pt 2)

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Smut

Word Count: 3703

Warnings: NSFW 18+, Aged up Megumi, mentions of violence, character death, swearing, use of female pronouns and anatomy, angst, slight praise kink, oral sex (f. receiving) Minors DNI.

Author Note: This is a sequel but it can be read as a stand-alone. pt 1 is up on my blog and pt 3 will be posted soon.

Megumi’s POV

Everything was dark and the smell of blood was overwhelming. I couldn’t tell where I was exactly, I knew I was in the domain of a special grade but I was sure I had gone home to y/n. Nobara, Yuji, and I had exorcised a second-grade curse and had called it a night. So where did this domain come from? How did I get here? I could swear I could hear thunder crack every now and then, but I can’t even remember if there was a storm when I was here with Yuji and Nobara. Where was Gojo when I needed him? I stumbled through the darkness blindly before I was met with a sight that made my heart drop.

Sukuna sat lazily on his throne, his red eyes trained on me in a predatory glare, sharp nails tapping impatiently on his temple. “It's about time you showed up, I thought I was going to have my fun without you. Now that you’re here, we can continue.” Sukuna’s mouth pulled into a sinister grin as I stared at the limp figure at the foot of his throne.

“Y/n…” her name came out as barely a whisper, my throat felt like it was closing up. She was at home studying for her statistics class, I know she was. I shook my head violently before pressing the heels of my hands to my eyes. This isn’t real.

“What’s wrong little sorcerer? Not feeling so tough anymore are you? You were so confident you could take me on earlier, so come on, take her back. Until you do I may have to play with her a little bit more, show her that she was never safe from me.” Sukuna reached down and pulled her unconscious body up into his lap. He held her jaw with one hand and turned her face so I could see. I wanted to scream at him not to touch her, or to hurt me instead, but nothing came out. Every part of my body was frozen in place at the sight of her tortured body. Sukuna could see me struggling in his domain and smirked down at me. He slowly dragged his mouth up her throat and to the shell of her ear. “Time to wake up princess, our guest is here.” Sukuna squeezed her throat at the same time he nipped her ear and her eyes flew open to immediately fall on me.

“No, please let her go.” The words finally came but I still couldn’t move. She looked so scared, the person I love most is in danger and I couldn’t do anything about it. I forced myself forward a single step but it felt like I was sinking into the ground. Why can’t I move? “I’ll do anything you want, but please don’t hurt her.”

“I told you what I wanted, I told you to come and get her. Show me just how strong you are.” Sukuna taunted. With a firm grip on my girlfriend's jaw and his other hand traveling down her body, Sukuna was in complete control. I know I can’t use cursed energy or shikigami here or I would risk her becoming collateral damage, but I couldn’t stand still and do nothing.

“‘Gumi, help me.” Her voice was shaking, her entire body trembling. I wanted nothing more than to whisk her away to safety. Her eyes squeezed shut as Sukunas mouth attacked her neck and left dark bruises in its wake.

“Time’s running out kid, I’m starting to get bored.” Sukuna’s free hand began to snake over her legs, dragging his razor-sharp nails over the soft skin there, leaving angry red scratches behind. Tears began to fall freely from her eyes and I tried to force myself forward again to no avail. Whimpers and cries for help begin to fall from her lips faster, and god I feel like I’m in hell. All I can do is watch as she cries out in fear, heart cracking at every sound she makes. Finally, she says something that makes me feel like my heart has been ripped out of my chest

“You did this to me, this is your fault.” My body felt numb at the sound of her broken words. All I can do is shake my head and beg, beg Sukuna for mercy, and beg her for forgiveness.

“Baby it’ll be okay, you’ll be okay. I’m so sorry.”

“You said you would protect me, why did you do this to me?”

“I’m sorry, I’m gonna get you out of here. Please believe me, my love.” I was on my knees before the king of curses now. So close I could pick up on her perfume that smells sickly sweet of roses, but the smell I adore so much was tainted with something else now.

Sukuna clicked his tongue and shook his head. “You know better than to make promises you can’t keep, right?” My whole body was shaking with fear and rage at the curse, but all I could do was bargain.

“Please, I swear I will do anything, just let her go.” I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her, pleading to just see her leave here alive. Sukuna’s nails dug deeper into her throat, drawing blood as it trickled down her neck and chest in small streams.

“I think I’d rather punish you and the brat for trapping me in this vessel. You get to watch as I kill her, and then I’ll switch out with him so he can see what he’s done.” Sukuna leaned down to face me. “This is what happens when self-righteous sorcerers need to learn their place, so don’t blame me for what happens next.”

Fear shot through my entire body at those words. I couldn’t help but scream loudly as Sukuna jerked her head and a loud, sickening crack filled my ears.

I shot straight up in bed as a crack of thunder rumbled through the apartment. My eyes were unfocused as I dragged myself towards the bathroom and a wave of nausea washed over me. I barely made it to the toilet before I was vomiting into it. My knees burned from where they hit the tile but all I can think about was the sound of her whimpers and begs for help ringing in my ears. I was vaguely aware of the shirt sticking to me with sweat as I tried to control my erratic breathing. Thunder cracked again, sounding eerily like the way her neck snapped in my nightmare and I was retching again.

The cycle continued for what felt like hours until I was left coughing and dry heaving. As the panic started to ebb away I noticed the presence of my girlfriend on the floor behind me, running her hands soothingly over my back, and lightly pressing her thumbs into my spine. She had her knees on either side of my waist and was resting her head between my shoulder blades. I reached up to flush the toilet before gently squeezing her knee to let her know I was okay. She wordlessly pulled my sweaty shirt over my head to let the cool air hit my back before lifting herself off of the floor and out of the bathroom.

I shifted my body so I could press my forehead against the hard plastic of the bathtub. After a couple minutes, she handed me a bottle of water and pressed a cold, damp cloth to the back of my neck. “I’m sorry I woke you up,” voice raspy from coughing and throwing up. This wasn’t the first time I had woken her with my nightmares, and I doubt it would be the last. She reclaims her spot on the floor behind me and continues rubbing my back.

“Don’t be sorry, I prefer to be woken up by you going to the bathroom than you throwing up in the bed anyway.” I can’t help but laugh at her teasing and we could both feel the unease begin to fade.

“Yeah, that's a good point. You’re too good to me, you know that?” I moved so that I was leaning back against her chest and she wrapped her arms around my shoulders protectively.

“Nope, I refuse to accept that statement because we are the perfect amount of goodness to each other.” I tilted my head back to rest it on her shoulder before pressing a quick kiss to her neck. I couldn’t help but wonder how I was lucky enough for Nobara to introduce the two of us. It was in the small, intimate moments like these that I knew I would happily go to my grave protecting her.

Reader’s POV

“Okay you know the drill,” you said to him as you held out your hands expectantly. He smiled as he placed both his hands in yours, palm up. You pressed one of his hands to your chest and the other to his so he could feel both of your heartbeats under his fingertips. The first time you did this he scoffed at how cheesy it was, but over the two years of living together, it became common practice for when he was trying to calm down after a nightmare. You didn’t like to press him about the horrors that plagued his dreams, knowing how reserved he was with his emotions, so you found your own ways to comfort him.

“See, we’re both okay. Do you wanna get up to go lay back down or do you need a second?” He shook his head and pulled himself up to sit in front of you again.

“No, I’m okay, but can we do the other thing too?” he asked sheepishly. He turned pleading eyes towards you, and how could you refuse him when he asked so nicely.

“Of course, whatever you need. You or me?”

He took a shuddering breath before whispering “you” so softly you almost didn’t hear it. Your shoulders slumped as that one word told you everything you needed to know. The other practice that became a common occurrence after his chronic nightmares was kissing the other person's phantom injuries. More often than not it was him kissing you, as you were usually the object of his nightmares, like tonight. He liked being able to physically see and feel that the wounds inflicted on you were in fact not real. This nighttime routine often led to some heavy makeout sessions, which then led to very soft and intimate sex.

“Okay baby,” You stand up and move to sit on the side of the bed while he brushes his teeth quickly to get rid of the gross taste in his mouth. While you wait, you find yourself tugging at the bottom of your shorts self-consciously as you shiver in anticipation. After a moment your boyfriend waltzed out of the bathroom and rested his hands on either side of your waist. He bent his head to capture your lips in a slow kiss. His tongue swipes at your bottom lip, silently asking permission to deepen the kiss and you happily oblige him. Your mouths move in a small fight for dominance but a firm hand on your thigh has him easily winning. Your hands trailed up to rest on his shoulders as he took your bottom lip between his teeth and bit down gently.

You gasp softly into his mouth and he brings one hand up to rest at the nape of your neck as he cradles your head protectively. He draws his lips down the side of your jaw, paying special attention to the spot behind your ear that never fails to have you melting into his hands. You tilt your head to give him better access to your throat, allowing him to deliver individual kisses to the spots where you likely had been hurt.

In a swift, fluid motion, he is pulling your tank top off of you and trailing sloppy kisses down your chest and stomach. You lean back onto your elbows as he runs his hands over your thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You let out a shaky breath as he begins to kiss his way up the inside of your legs. “Just relax baby. I’m gonna take care of you.” He punctuated each word with a kiss or nip to the inside of your thighs, and you could feel the arousal pool at the pit of your stomach.

You forced yourself to make eye contact just in time to see a devious smirk grace his features. Before you could question it he is yanking down your shorts and blowing cool air onto your core. You yelp and instinctively try to snap your knees shut. He chuckles lowly to himself before tossing your shorts somewhere behind him. He brings his face back between your thighs to lick a long, hot stripe up your core. You gasp loudly and let your arms give out behind you. He reaches one hand up to where you are clawing at the sheets to intertwine your fingers together.

“My pretty baby is already so worked up and I’ve barely touched you. What a good girl.” He lowers himself back down to lap up the arousal dripping onto your legs before sucking your clit into his mouth. You arch into him and groan loudly which prompts him to hum triumphantly around the bundle of nerves. He moves his free hand down to expertly curl two fingers into you and starts pumping in and out at a steady pace. After a few pumps of his hand, he curls his fingers to find the spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

The combination of his mouth and fingers working you is dizzying and you can feel it pushing you closer to the edge of your climax. He could feel how close you were and began to move with more purpose, determined to make you cum more than once in the night. With the hand that isn’t intertwined with his, you reach down to tangle in his soft hair. “Wait, I- oh shit- I’m gonna cum.”

He removes the hand that was holding yours from you and brings his thumb down to rub circles into your sensitive clit. “Come on baby, I got you. You can cum for me.” He moves his mouth to rejoin his fingers at your slit to bring you closer to your high. A particularly hard press of his thumb has you crying out in pleasure and grinding desperately against his face. He removes his fingers from you and replaces them with his tongue to help you ride out your high. He greedily drinks up your release until you are weakly nudging him away.

“Do you want me to stop?” He looked up at you innocently, which was contradicting when you remembered the things he was doing mere seconds prior.

“No, I just want to feel more of you.” You could feel a hot blush creep up your body at the realization that he was still halfway clothed, while you laid completely naked in front of him. His brain seemed to process this at the same time because he was quickly ridding himself of his sweatpants and grey boxers.

His hard cock thumps softly against his toned stomach when he stood again and you were having a hard time not staring at the man in front of you. He wasn’t bulky, but the muscles that rippled underneath taut skin were nothing to sneeze at. He glanced up and caught your stare, and returned it with a cocky smirk. “See something you like?”

“I sure do,” you flashed an innocent smile as you sat up and palmed his erection. He gasped at your sudden boldness and leaned onto the bed for support. At this proximity, you were able to tug his earlobe between your teeth and bite down gently. “Please baby, I want you so bad.” Those words snap him back into action and he’s crashing his lips against yours again.

He moves you back up the bed and crawls over your body. He braces his forearms on either side of your head and experimentally grinds his hip against yours. You let out a soft “please” that comes out whinier than you intend. You lean your face up to give him a soft kiss before he reaches down to line himself up with you and slowly presses the tip inside. He shallowly thrusts to slowly work into you, mumbling praises against your skin as he moves deeper.

You can’t help but wince at the stretch his cock always brings you, which would border on outright painful if he didn’t feel so good. Your head falls back against the bed, clawing at his back to try to find something to ground yourself. He glances down to where he is buried deep inside you before pressing his forehead to yours. “I know sweetheart, it's almost there. You’re- fuck- doing so good for me,” he reassures as he presses a soothing kiss to your temple.

When he finally bottoms out he stills his hips to let you get comfortable and adjust to him. He takes this opportunity to pepper your face and chest in kisses and returns one of his hands to your neck where it cradles your head. You bring one of your hands to his hair to tug gently before rolling your hips against him, eliciting a breathy moan from him. “You can move baby, I’m okay.”

He nods and gives a couple of slower thrusts before setting a steady pace. He opted for slower deep strokes which made you feel every inch of him as he thrust into you. His thrusts have his cock brushing all the right spots inside you, and all you can do is gasp and moan for him while clinging to his shoulders. “Megumi, please,” you aren’t even sure what you were asking for. The pleasure has your head spinning and unable to make complete thoughts.

You can tell he is getting closer to his own climax because his thrusts are getting progressively faster and he is getting more vocal. “God, baby you’re taking me so well.” He hooks one of your legs around his waist and the new angle lets him hit your sweet spot with every roll of his hips. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you feel another climax approaching, and Megumi picks up his pace again.

“Is my pretty girl gonna cum for me again?” You bury your face into his shoulder and nod. He moves one of his hands to play with your clit to push you over the edge. You arch into him and let out a strangled moan as your orgasm washes over you. You’re sure you’re leaving deep scratches across his back as you grip him tighter. His hips stutter as you clench around him and he gives a few more sloppy thrusts before he’s cumming too with a loud groan. He unconsciously rocks into you lazily as you both come down from your highs.

“Are you okay baby?” He kisses your forehead and strokes your side to try and bring you back to reality. You nod again, not quite trusting your voice yet. He chuckles and slowly pulls out to not overstimulate you. You squirm at the uncomfortable stickiness between your legs but he’s already moving to the bathroom to grab stuff to clean you up.

When he comes back out he runs a warm cloth along the inside of your thighs and quickly over your center, which has you wincing at the sensitivity. When he's done he pulls out a pair of your pajama shorts and one of his loose shirts for you to wear. He helps you slip the clothes on and tugs his boxers back up before climbing back into bed with you.

You stand up to crack open the window next to the bed before laying with your back against his chest. The cool air from the rain seeps into the room and he mutters a “thank you” into your shoulder, surprised that you remember he runs hot for the rest of the night when he has a nightmare.

The clock on the bedside table shows that it's about 5:30 in the morning, so you estimate that he woke up roughly at 4. “Do you feel okay enough to go back to sleep?” You feel him shrug behind you and you scoot closer to him, pulling one of his arms over your waist to lace your fingers together.

“I don’t know. I should but…” you hear his voice trail off and nod in understanding. He always has a hard time falling back asleep on nights like these. He warned you about his chronic nightmares shortly before moving in together and confessed that he’s had them since he started high school at Jujustu Tech. However, you take small comfort in the knowledge that since living together they’ve gotten less frequent, and his reactions to them have become far less violent.

“Will you feel better if one of your shikigami sleeps in here? Just so you know that nothing will happen.” He considers it for a minute before tugging his hand out of yours, circling his other arm around your waist, and folding his hands to summon his divine dog. Its head pokes out of the shadows under the window. You pat the empty spot on the bed and it jumps up excitedly before laying down and letting you scratch behind its ears.

Megumi chuckles behind you and shakes his head. “You just wanted the dog on the bed didn’t you?” He reaches over to ruffle its soft fur as it dozes off.

“Checkmate,” you crane your head to place a kiss on his cheek before settling back against him. “Now will you please try to go back to sleep? I don’t want to nag you but realistically you can’t function on only two hours of sleep.”

“I’ll try but I can’t make any promises you know.” He tucks his chin on top of your head and relaxes around you. You hum in acknowledgment before slowly drifting back to sleep.

#fushiguro megumi #jujutsu kaisen #megumi x reader #jjk #megumi fic #megumi smut #anime #fanfic #megumi fluff #megumi x y/n

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