#this took so long I am so done | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

were-changing-cake-vaults · 3 months

Text

Doc is really, really, really tired of getting dragged into things.

That’s the problem with this server: he tries to do his own thing, but people cannot leave him alone. No matter what he does to deter them, whether that be harmless threat or psychological warfare, they always come back to dance on his metaphorical lawn. Or actual lawn. Or precious one-of-a-kind bush.

And at this point, he thought he had gotten used to all the shenanigans. He doesn’t want to be the grumpy old man amongst his friends and colleagues, so Doc tries to laugh it off, not take it so seriously. Occasionally, he’ll even join in on the jokes and put a little extra pizzazz into his mannerisms. Doc has his limits, of course, everyone does, but he’s been working on pushing those limits further for the past while.

So when Beef makes the joke about Big Salmon on day one, he joins in on it for the moment. It’s a good joke, really. It gets a hearty laugh out of him more than once. The joke is made, people laugh, Doc is included, he moves on and goes back to doing his own thing.

Honestly, he doesn’t even remember what he said. The joke should’ve been a one-and-done, forgotten after a week’s time. Whatever he said should’ve been inconsequential. Should be. Beef’s not one to drag out a bit for that long, usually, but here he is, dressed as a salmon and saying he got emails from a fish. Doc is utterly clueless throughout most of it- he doesn’t even understand what constituted him getting dragged in this time. And the way Beef and Skizz are talking is scaring him, just a little bit. Skizz is too aggressive, Beef is laying down the charmspeak, and both of their eyes are glossy and strange. There’s a hollow echo in the room.

But Doc, absurd as this is, plays along. Watches as one of his villagers gets killed. Lets nervous laughter through as he’s given 10 salmon heads, and leaves. When he gets back to his base out in the middle of nowhere, he realizes that these aren’t normal salmon heads, they’re worse: deformed, many-eyed, slimy and reeking of rot. And while this isn’t the strangest thing Doc has seen, as far as he knows, Beef isn’t one for game-breaking like he is. The deformities on the heads don’t even look player made. Whatever this is, it’s bizaarre, and it’s not something Doc wants to be involved in.

Then the whispers start.

He doesn’t do what he’s asked—build a shrine for whatever Big Salmon is—initially. He lets it be for a bit, shrugs it off, and keeps building. But it’s hard to focus when you can’t sleep—in his dreams he’s drowning, sinking deeper and deeper, sea life surrounding him and screaming and he’s screaming too as a pair of eyes stare him down—and when you can’t get a moment of quiet. He keeps hearing that damn slapping sound and little nothings about shrine schematics, block pallets, glorious statues. The air starts reeking of rot, far more than a swamp should. Strange slime crawls up the scaffolding that he keeps slipping on.

And this is why Doc is tired: Big Salmon is not his first rodeo. This isn’t the first time something has grabbed hold of his soul and tried to puppeteer it to his own demise. This isn’t even the scariest thing he’s come across- he still dreams of watching himself rip his own arm off. He knows gods and entities like he knows redstone, all the intricacies of magic that weave through the universe. They want to be satisfied, satiated. Doc will not give whatever Big Salmon is that satisfaction, not for long.

So he puts up with the rot, the slime, the dreams. Keeps the salmon heads, perpetually grotesque, in a chest where he can see them. Gives them a minuscule in: blueprints are crafted of the shrine he is meant to build, dying leaves are placed and waterlogged, copper is bent and formed into a worthless statue. The sky is cloudy. The sky has been cloudy all week, swamp air thick with the smell of rotting fish. He gives Beef a call, tells him to bring Skizz along.

When what should be Doc’s friend arrives, he is more fish than man. The tinnitus-like whisper of the thing trying to get him reaches a roar as he gives Beef a look over- there is no telling where the suit ends and the skin begins, all scaled, slimy and opalescent. Skizz, on the contrary, is looking relatively normal; the only strange thing about him are his glazed over eyes. Something about that makes Doc queasy about his plan, but he swallows the bile rising in his throat and steels himself, forces himself to be calm. This is not his first rodeo.

Doc’s faked smile doesn’t fail him as he leads Beef and Skizz to the statue. It doesn’t fail him as he hands the last rotting head to Beef for him to place, on top of an over-polished button. His grin only widens as Skizz counts down his boss pressing the button.

With a single button press, the voices that have taken residence in Doc’s head are wiped out, as are Skizz and Beef: bloody…fish…bits fly high into the sky when they fall into the exploding trap. There is a deafening boom, and then there is Doc, unscathed, laughing wickedly, organic eye sparkling with mania. Gods never win against him. There is no winning against the goat.

And finally, with the threat of Big Salmon defeated, Doc can finally rest. After all, he is incredibly tired.

#woosh writes #oceans calling au #docm77 #hermitcraft au #hermitcraft #FINALLY! ITS FUCKING DONE!!!!#HOLY FUCK THIS TOOK ME FOREVER #I am so sorry this took as long as it did- a bajillion irl things happened and that delayed my writing significantly #ANYWAYS. [SCREAMS]

260 notes · View notes

poorly-drawn-mdzs · 8 months

Text

Fishing Interlude

[First] Prev <–-> Next

#poorly drawn mdzs #mdzs #wei wuxian #lan sizhui #lan jingyi #ONE HUNDERED (+6 bonus) COMICS BABY!!!! WE MADE IT!#There's still at least 200 more to go at the rate I'm going but still! Triple digits for a comic project feels worth celebrating.#I'm no stranger to setting myself on projects but this is certainly the most adventurous and long-term one I've undertaken.#The aim was to be done by the end of September (whoops (I also took a few breaks to post other stuff)) But I'm still having fun!#Thank you all so much for joining me on this journey! I have a celebration announcement tomorrow!#Sorry this one doesn't really feel like a 'comic 100'. It's sandwiched between two comics that were supposed to be 'comic 100'...#I love how excited Jingyi is to be in the garden. And I will never miss an opportunity to have them fish.#Slowly...I am setting up my punchline with all this. I promise it's leading somewhere.#Lan Sizhui didn't fit into the frame for panel 3 so I like to think he dove in after a fish #Afterall that's were lan zhan is in this comic. Under the water. Hunting. LSZ is just following what his mentor taught him.#Sorry I broke Jingyi's characterization for this punchline. He's one of the biggest wangxian shippers in canon. But fishing comes first.

932 notes · View notes

breadball · 3 months

Text

"In a night of silence I'm settled by your sounds In a dream of quiet Contentedness surrounds ...

Delightfully exhausted Willingly this way Always yours, always yours I'll stay With you, my muse"

-My Muse by Sarah Jarosz

#jel/reth #jel x reth #palia #palia reth #jel omiata #HAPPY VALENTINES DAY YALL!!#THIS PIECE TOOK ME SO LONG #but I had it done unintentionally in time for the holiday #I’m very much pleased with how it turned out tbh #I am unwell about these dumb gay boys #s6 plz let me play match maker I’m dying

262 notes · View notes

paimonial-rage · 3 months

Text

otome isekai snippets - geo boys

synopsis: in which your favorite characters get dropped into a random stereotypical isekai plot of the author's choosing characters: albedo, gorou, itto, zhongli notes: title, synopsis, then snippet

Albedo - Protecting the Hero With Love

The hero’s journey was met with betrayal from every end, the first of which from his adoptive guardian, Duke Kreideprinz, who experimented on him endlessly as a child in an attempt to use his unique mana to defy the gods. Reborn as the hero’s sibling, there was no way you would be letting your brother go down such a harsh path! First obstacle? You would stop the duke from ever taking notice of your brother! Wait, what do you mean marriage!?

“Goodnight!” You exclaimed as you slammed your bedroom door shut.

You ignored the heat that flooded your cheeks as you fled to the comforting embrace of your bed. Your hands shook as you took your fluffiest pillow, buried your face into it…

And screamed.

Something was wrong. Something was very very wrong. Why in the world was he doing things like… that!? Dining with you every evening, placing his hand upon your waist in public, walking to your room at night and taking your hand to kiss while he looks up at you with those piercing blue–

You screamed into your pillow again.

What in the world was going on!? He wasn’t supposed to be like this! By saving his sister from her terrible fate, you planned to prevent him from even taking interest in your brother’s mana. He was supposed to thank you with a sum of money and then send you on your way. His offer of a marriage contract as a form of protection for you and your brother came as a surprise, but when he simply stated it would be a benefit to him as well, you agreed. Since it was a mutually beneficial arrangement, he certainly had no reason to take interest in you.

So why in the world was he–

You slammed your fist into the pillow.

You knew the duke! Not only did you know him from the book, but you even heard rumors of him before you even met him in this world! He was supposed to be a loner! He was dismissive of most of his peers! He preferred the company of beakers and potions to actual people! The only person he truly cared about was his sister! So what in the world was that!? Just as his lips brushed against your fingers, he gazed up at you with those seafoam eyes and–

“So you don’t mind if I pursue you seriously then?”

You flopped forward onto your pillow and buried your face into it. Your heart couldn’t take this. Especially not when he looked at you like that.

gorou, itto, and zhongli under the cut!

Gorou - I’m Not the Villainess Anymore!

It was the classic tale told many times past of a beautiful, yet pitiful woman that was saved by a handsome man. Together they overcame jealous villainesses, corrupt politicians, and jealous older siblings to live happily ever after. But that was not your story. You, as the jealous ultimate villainess, were exiled to a lonely monastery at the edge of the kingdom. But you know what? It was about time! Finally, you can live your life unfettered by the chains of the novel! But if that was the case, why does the head knight keep bothering you!? Your job as the villainess is done! It’s about time he left you alone!

You bit your lip as you scrubbed that light spot in the corridor for the fiftieth time. Who would have thought that after months of getting General Gorou to leave, the moment your wish came true you wanted nothing more than to keep him here with you. You knew his strengths and accomplishments. You knew he wouldn’t be taken down easily. But the thought that he’d be going up against the Shogunate…

You gritted your teeth and pressed your scrubber even harder into the spot.

Who cared? Regardless of what happened, Sangonomiya Kingdom had nothing to do with you. Your job there was done. And once General Gorou left, you’d finally be free. You’d finally be able to live your life the way you wanted to. You would be able to leave the monastery behind, jump on a ship to a land far away, and restart your life there. And–

You froze when you heard the sound of hooves accompanied with a familiar voice.

“Woah there! Jeez, I know you’re happy to go running again, but this won’t be for fun, boy.”

General Gorou? Was he leaving already?

Your heart caught in your throat as you tossed everything to the side and dashed toward the front doors. Throwing them open, you froze upon seeing the general securing the last of his luggage to his trusted steed. And when his eyes fell upon you, he froze in return. Was he at a loss of what to say just like you? But by the steely expression that soon overtook his face, it seemed he found his words first.

“I’ll return safely to you, I promise.”

You wanted to laugh in response. He’ll return safely? How could he promise such a thing so easily? The Shogun’s army was mighty and the Sangonomiya Kingdom was so small. Sure, he was a mighty warrior. Sure, he proved himself in battle many times over, but that didn’t mean–

He took your hands and squeezed them tightly.

“I’ll come back to you safely. I promise. So…” He then cupped your cheek and smiled that adorable smile of his. “Don’t worry too much, okay? Make sure to eat your vegetables. And don’t get into fights with the priest. Oh! And the children adore you, so I’ll check to see you set a good example for them when I return.”

Disbelief exploded from your chest in the form of a bark of laughter.

“Don’t scold me right before you march to your death! Don’t worry about me! Just…” You turned away as tears filled your eyes. “Just come back alive.”

Itto - My Seventh Round of Life

You lived six lives before this one, each ending in failure. Murder, sickness, betrayal—the list goes on. You did everything right. You fulfilled all the duties of each life, and still each time ended in your early demise. So when you woke up for the seventh time, you decided you had enough. You’ll give life one last chance. This time you’ll make your own decisions! Although… getting caught by a gang of bandits certainly was not one of them!!!

“You can’t just… do this!!! They’re not going to allow it!” You exclaimed as you tried to pull the big burly oni back.

You had no clue what in the world made him think it was okay to simply set up a stage in the middle of such an illustrious city, but here was this big dope doing so! Didn’t he know what could happen? What if permits were needed? What if everybody was arrested for the fifth time this month!? But much to your dismay, Itto erupted in a big belly laughter at your despair.

“C’mon, First! Why are you getting your obi all tied in a knot? It’s not a big deal. We've done this maaaany times and it always turned out fine. Just trust me! It’s gonna be a riot!”

You wanted to scream. Of course, he wouldn’t see anything wrong with this. Didn’t this guy have any sense of self-preservation? But when you turned to Shinobu for assistance, there she was supervising the setup of the stage. Was literally everyone in this accursed gang insane?

Upon noticing your distressed expression, Itto let out a sigh. Soon you were wincing as a huge hand ruffled your carefully styled hair.

“Don’t worry, I get it! You’re standing here brought to tears over worrying about your great boss. It’ll be fine!” But when your expression didn’t change, his turned stern. “Look, if you spend all your time racking your brain over hows-its and whats-its, you’ll get all old and pruney before you know it. You only live once. Might as well make it worth it, right?”

You wanted to laugh. If only he knew this was your seventh life. You got killed for less. But… unlike your previous lives, it wasn’t as if the Arataki Gang was involved in anything illegal. Their antics only incurred, not the threat of bows and spears, but the rolling of eyes. You left your old life away too. They didn’t want you anymore. So… perhaps… Perhaps it couldn’t be that bad?

Your shoulders dropped.

“Fine.”

So when he jumped in front of the crowd with fireflies strapped to his horns and the rest of the gang jumping and dancing around him, the audience hooted and hollered with glee. With the music twanging high in the air and the children of the city rushing around you, somewhere along the line you found yourself laughing along too. It felt odd. Weird. Like there was a lightness in your chest you never felt before.

Was this what it felt like to live?

Zhongli - I Didn’t Mean to Sleep With the Celestial Emperor

Every century, the celestial emperor came down to the Kingdom of Liyue to grace his people with the divine knowledge needed to flourish until his return. After enjoying the week-long festival in the harbor to your heart’s content, you were excited for the main event. But as the celestial emperor descended from the heavens, what filled your chest was not awe, but confusion. Wasn’t he the guy you slept with last night?

“It has been said that while the Harbor represents the will of Liyue, Qingce Village represents its heart. It is a joy to see that it has remained just as I remembered.”

“O-Oh, is that so?” You asked as the corner of your smile twitched slightly.

You didn’t know how it came to this, bringing the celestial emperor around Liyue, that is. When you first saw his face, you nervously assumed you were mistaken. You clearly saw him descend from the heavens, after all. The man you spent a passionate evening with the night before certainly could not be him. But when he locked eyes with you from the parapet, dread filled your stomach.

You tried. You really did. The moment the procession was over, you upped and headed straight to the inn to pack your belongings to leave and leave to anywhere out of Liyue Harbor. But that would’ve been too easy. No, the moment you rushed downstairs and paid your bill, you turned to run straight into a young adeptus and was therefore whisked over to the man himself.

Though it would have been weird, you would have been fine if he simply wished to thank you for the evening, but things were never that simple, were they? No, when you were brought before him, he said that you promised to show him the delights of Liyue. You said he could take it as a verbal contract between you both and he wished to cash in on it.

Now, let it be said that you didn’t mean it. After having had a few drinks last night, you were in the mood to flirt and really, could you be held accountable for what came out of your mouth? You didn’t think he’d hold you to it! But at the same time, how could you refuse!? Only a fool would invalidate a contract made with the very being of contracts!

So here you were bringing the celestial emperor around as if he were some random normal traveler from a foreign land trying to hide from the common folk the divinity that oozed off of him in waves. It certainly did not help that he was handsome to boot and could steal hearts with a simple smile. And when he directed all that at you…?

“To be able to share this view with you…” His amber eyes glowed with warmth. “Your presence makes this trip even more of a delight.”

You couldn’t think straight.

#genshin impact #albedo #arataki itto #gorou #zhongli #albedo x reader #arataki itto x reader #gorou x reader #zhongli x reader #my writing #genshin x reader #i'll be honest i did not think i'd be posting anything this month i am just as shocked as you guys are #i've technically had majority of these done for probably more than a year HAHA;;;;#i will say that i am planning on eventually writing these for all of the boys... eventually #but i mean it took me a year to come out with this so who knows how long it'll take me for everyone else haha;;;;

180 notes · View notes

hcdragonwrites · 10 months

Text

Tangled Love

(A @semisolidmind Drabble)

Ok! I ran this by Semi before I posted just because I know absolutely nothing about LMK (except the animation can be so pretty!) just so I could get their characters down. I hope you all like it !

She just wanted to escape- both from this place and from her own mind tonight.

The ghosts of memories were walking and she had no distractions to chase them away.

Peaches walked the cool cavern halls of Water- Curtain Cave, her feet echoing in the depths. The sandals she wore and the ornamental clothing she had been thrown into made her scalp prickle and her skin itch. It was too much- but the attendants wouldn’t hear a thing about it.

She had to look the part of Queen.

Peaches, in the absence of the Lord of the mountain and his right hand and sword, was the remaining voice of authority.

To a point.

Finishing with courtly duties and listening in on behalf of her husbands wasn't a huge chore. The two of them rarely left at the same time however. If one was called away the other would remain. Or Peaches herself would be brought along.

This time however she hadn’t been.

It was the first time in ten years.

She had just this night- just this moment of reprieve and she would make the most of it. Or so she thought. Instead, she was fighting something that reared its head and struck her nerves like a asp.

However she wasn’t alone quite yet. As she rounded the corner and came to golden lacquered doors of her bedchamber - their bedchamber- she paused.

“Will that be all my queen?” One of the attending retinue of her guard asked. It was a guard her husbands insisted upon whenever both were away from home- a set of seven of the most battle scarred simians Peaches had ever seen.

They were tasked and sworn with following her everywhere - to the dining hall, to the throne room. If she wished to go and sit among the apple trees and listen to the wind play over the mountain grasses her guard would double in size. Peaches tried to not cause the denizens of Flower fruit mountain any more problems or stressors by going outside when both the King and his Brother in arms were away on a war path.

Her husbands.

It’s what they titled themselves now, after a decade of the terrible start they had on their relationship with her. When she had met the two, they had been just tiny monkeys. A sly looking ginger and gold monkey who had loved to cling to her arms and a dark black furred monkey that brought her fruits and almonds from the wild.

My sweet boys.

They had been her monkeys back then- the little prankster angels she had thought were just simple beasts, trying to survive out in the world.

She had been wrong.

The decision to upend her life, she guessed, had been floated around for months between the two disguised demons as they ate her fruit and enjoyed her touches. It was a mutual one that both had decided was the best option for her.

She took a steadying breath, coming back to the present. Peaches wanted a chance to be alone. Something so rare she craved it like a man in a desert craved water.

“Yes, general. I think I’ll retire early for the day.” She smiled at the monkey who dipped his body into a bow. The gleam of his armor set the flickers of a memory brewing. Fire in the trees, the smell of iron on the wind and a figure among the debris. She shook her head to dislodge it. The rest of them weren’t awful to her. Her husbands weren’t awful to her. They had just ….

Taken away her decisions.

“Very well Queen.” Peaches flinched, unable to quite stomach the title and what that truly meant. If I am queen then why am I without choices? “If you need us call us.”

She turned the handle in the door and slipped in side with as much grace as she could muster.

Peaches closed the ornamental doors to the bedroom, resting her head against the door. Steady. Deep breaths. In through her nose out through her mouth.

The illusion of a paradise that Wukong had built and Macaque helped facilitate always lost its color and believability when they were away. They couldn’t feed her the sugared lies and candied perceptions to tamp back the memories of that night.

It had been just another night on the small farm - a June night of heat and singing cicadas- of windows wide open and Peaches trying to escape that heat. There wasn’t much she could do to escape it. The moisture clung to her and made her bedding stick and clog her nose. So on these nights she stayed up, usually with a candle or the moon to illuminate her night, and read.

The knock on the door was not something typical.

The memory was rising and she couldn’t hold it back. I have to ride it out. Survive it.

Like she had survived that night. Getting visitors in the dead of the night had been unconventional- and she remembered the feeling of being perturbed. Don’t answer it, she told the memory. But this was the past and ghosts of the past didn’t change their course.

She had closed her book, had stepped down the hall to the door and had opened it.

I should have called through- told him to stay away! I should have never left my bed or my book.

It was a drunk man. A fellow farm hand called in for one of the families to help bring in a harvest that had proved too bountiful for the immediate family to handle. Peaches could see the man before her eyes, smell the reek of him.

A drunk.

“Well ain’t it the village spinster! Whaaa da pretty thing you are!” He was a cloud of bitter rice wine, of too much sake on his breath. The intensity of it had a physical effect on her memory and in the present, Peaches wrinkled her nose.

“You should go home Sir.” She had told him- tried to close the door.

His foot moved faster and his hands had caught the door.

A wild set of emotions swept through her. She had to sit her body down, thankful she had been able to get away from the other monkeys before the memory seized her like a vice. They would have been in a panic over her and she couldn’t let their little hearts worry so. There was nothing they could do to stop the remembering.

It was his fault this all happened. It was His. He didn’t have to be drunk and show up at my home- he didn’t have to shove his way into my house and try and grab me.

But he was just a single man. Did his actions warrant the destruction that happened next ?

“Get out!” Her memory self cried. The wooden table she danced behind as the drunk stumbled and moved towards her, was her only shield.

“The Boys Said you prefer the company of wild animals …” his speech was hard to hear. The wine had made him bold, stupid, and aroused it seemed. “I thought I would give you mtaste of what a real man was, since the villagers are al’ ‘fraid of your Witchery with monkeys.”

She had run- she had thrown her things at him. It was probably the commotion of her breaking a pitcher over his head that had alerted her monkeys. The loud clatter of the pottery across the floor had sounded so sharp and final. It had only made the man more determined.

The drunk when he did get his hands on her was furious. He swung a fist and sent stars into her eyes. Peaches had clung like a wildcat to her conscious, kicking out with legs and swinging with fists. Her nose was full of the sour smell of him- had felt his hands and fought them. A kick to his groin had sent him wheezing. Another fist to her head had Peaches crying. She had stared that drunk in his mean little eyes as he whispered the terrible things he wanted to do to her.

She had been staring in those eyes when he died.

He never got to touch more than her arms that night.

Peaches heard something step through the door that had been left open to the night. She had heard the creak of her house as something walked within it. And the sound of something- like a water skin being popped and a splash of warm liquid against her belly had shocked her.

The Drunks eyes went wide with confusion, rolling horselike in his head. His bruising grip on her wrist had let go. In the present, She rubbed those wrists, the phantom pains hard.

“..mah… belly.” The drunk had mumbled then belched a bucket of blood onto the floor. Peaches could see something protruding from his middle- something long and thin like a stick. Or a staff.

Clawed hands pulled the head back and twisted with a fury. The sound of bones breaking was loud, as if a fire was consuming dry wood. The drunk crumbled in those hands like a puppet cut free of its strings.

A new stranger stood in her home, his frame large and broad and most assuredly not human. He tossed the body like someone would toss a rag across the floor. The glowing eyes in the sudden dark were all she could see. Her mind, even in its heightened adrenaline drenched state, recognized the face pattern, saw a familiarity in the fur. There was, in fact, still a little flower tucked against this demonic creatures ear. The same flower she had interwoven in her forest friend's fur that afternoon.

“Your… your my…”

Nerves and the come down from the adrenaline high we’re making speech hard. The monkey demon before her, who’s eyes seemed to spit fire, softened. Just a bit.

“You are my Peaches.” Wukong said, touching her hair, her face, her hands. Taking stock. Then he had taken those limp hands and threaded them through his fur, trying to get them to grip. It would help his own rage and calm her fear. It was thick in the air, ruining the natural sweet smell she had. That and the slab of flesh on the floors own fetid death scent.

Wukong was not the best at this - this comfort thing. But he would rise to the occasion. He would try for her.

Fury and rage made his tail lash and the fur along his neck to stand on end.

At first she had just been a simple human that would leave little offerings to him and his brother in arms. An oddity here in the shadow of his mountain. Most humans around here feared the monkeys and kept away from all of them, having a legend that if one was harmed a great calamity would befall them.

Wukong didn’t mind being that calamity. These were his people, his subjects. So hearing the chatter from some of his kind that a women had begun to leave out gifts had of course spiked the Kings curiosity. The humans beneath Flower Fruit Mountain were his lesser subjects. So he had come down from the mountain, disguising himself as a smaller and more approachable sized monkey, to see the fuss his subjects had started gossiping about at groomings. Only to see his brother, Macaque, already being petted and tended and kissed on each of his six ears.

Of course first impressions had been terrible and Wukong, used to getting the first pick of everything, had come screeching into the clearing and demanding his own pets. It had set off a very small and very mock little battle between the two brothers in arms. One that had Peaches separating them and scolding them as she patched up the little scratches they had taken from eachother. They could have each resisted her pull but both decided that play acting a fight, even if it had started as a bit of one, was the best way to get attention divided between the both of them.

Wukong hadn’t expected to become infatuated. Her name didn’t matter to him- he had rebranded her almost the instant she came to him and offered a smile and held out a handful of sugar and dates. Peaches. After the Kings own favorite fruit, the sweetest thing the mountain produced.

His Peaches.

Of course also Macaques. He shared everything with his brother, the dark furred and six eared demon who had faced battles and won wars besides Wukong. While Wukong had been more leery, Peaches won him over faster than Flower Wine loosened his rigid posture. They had both fallen for this mortal women. And, in the traditional way she belonged to them. She just didn’t know it yet. They had touched and groomed and cuddled and tangled limbs and tails. They were practically married without the marriage bit.

Wukong rubbed small circles into Peaches back, trying to keep himself from bearing his teeth in rage.

I should have taken her home the moment she kissed me.

They had been kisses of the kind one gives to a friend or pet. It had left the warlord craving more burning with more.

Of wanting to feel her give him more than just a chaste kiss on the side of his face.

She wouldn’t have been hurt if he had just taken her home.

Wukong and Macaque had taken to one or both spending the night in Peaches trees, to keep an eye on her. Wukongs obsession had grown into a fascination and warm buttery love. A love that was becoming a wild inferno as he fought to stay still and not leap upon the corpse he had made and turn it into nothing but bits of flesh and gore the crows could carry away.

His Peaches fingers finally grasped his fur and shook. It brought Wukong back from his montage of rage to the present. If only Mac was here — but he wasn’t. He was back at home on Flower Fruit mountain , giving his brother the night to enjoy and keep lookout at Peaches den.

“That’s my girl.” The demon tried to soothe. He really wished he could set Peaches down and finish off what he had started. This place had been bad. This village terrible. He hated every thing and one here that had dared to let a drunken fool up to his Peaches doorstep and allowed this to happen. In reality Wukong was mad it had been Mac’s own sense of importance on taking it slow and letting a little thing like a life outside of Flower Fruit Mountain stop him from from revealing who he was and taking her home.

I am done trying to woo her over slowly. They could have lost her this night if Wukong hadn’t been in earshot, hadn’t heard the crash of something breaking. His clawed hands wrapped around her back and beneath her legs. Before he could realize it, Wukong had her up and in his arms, already stepping on and across the corpse and out into the June air. Mine.

“Let’s get you home, lovely.” Wukongs voice was thick with emotion. Relief to finally, finally, finally have an excuse to take his wife home, to see her sleep in a real bed and eat real food made his heart swell. No more pretending. No more longing. It was happening now. Simmering beneath that emotion was the sweet bubble, the red misting rage, of violence. Once he got her home, got her safe, got her tangled within some of his and Macaques blankets to where the sour smell of fear would be lost within the scent of them- he could come back. He would come back.

He would destroy the village for being the obstacle it was in his conquest for this mortal girls heart. It was in itself, a relief to know he was justified in its destruction.

Look what this place did to bruise my sweet fruit.

Peaches was shaking. Clinging to him. I would have her cling to me always. He pressed his nose into her neck, breathing in as he walked off. She smelled so good. He rubbed his face to hers, affectionately smothering her fear scent. Wukong felt a smile curl his face. Finally. We can go home and put the charade to bed. Finally you are mine.

Peaches' memory of that night was mostly of clinging to Wukong as they flew through the air, of his voice a rumble of soft words and comforts. He was holding her close, pressing her in. Smothering her in a sense. But she needed it. She clung to it in a way to stop herself from being sick from fright. It was strange but familiar to hold this fur, to cling. Then she briefly remembered another voice, another set of hands. When she looked up and saw that her sweet dark monkey was also here, had also been a demon in disguise, something broke in her. Maybe hysteria. Maybe disbelief. Or maybe she knew, somewhere in her mind, that no matter what she said now wouldn’t save the people- the innocents- in her village.

Peaches had been transferred into the dark arms and THATS where she finally began to cry. The shock was fading and leaving behind ragged holes of emotion.

“Safe, you're safe now.” She was reassured. Hands had lifted her chin, her sweet little monkey- now a demonic one- was gently beginning to sponge away the blood from the cuts on her face. Her cheek swelled, her eye with it.

“Please don’t kill them.” She begged. “He already took care of the one who hurt me don’t kill my village.”

“Hush love…”

“Please!”

Silence. Something cold pressed to her face- a bit of snow from far up the mountain wrapped in cloth. Macaques ears twitched like flower petals in the night air.

“It’s already done. The village is already gone.”

The memory rode itself out in the present and faded slowly.

Guilt washed over her and she cried all for a new reason. She had been the catalyst for Sun Wukongs fury. She had been the decider to his want of destruction. Peaches may not have killed them, may have had a decade to realize that what had happened wasn’t her fault, but Wukong had done it in her name. He had erased that village and all its people like a cartographer reshapes a map. To all the rest of the world, their had never been a village in the shadow of Flower fruit mountain. Not a foundation, not a brick, not even a spare hair, was left of humanity there. Instead it had been cleared as if a fire had swept through. Peaches had seen it on one occasion when Wukong had been persuaded to show her. She had needed closure. Needed the peace.

Once she had healed she had been told her village was gone. She had been given a sweet lie- that Wukong had gone back and the villagers related to the drunk had been ransacking her house to see where she kept the money or any spare wine.

When Wukong had shown up demanding they answer to the crime committed in her home, they had attacked. Wukong had enacted a king's justice as was his right. He had told the remaining villagers to leave- to never set foot upon his domain again for the lawlessness that had been enacted upon their neighbor.

It had taken two years for her to be able to relax whenever he came in smelling of fire and iron. It had taken a few years more for her to remember what Macaque had said when he had pressed snow to her face.

They were the same little monkeys they had been before. But now they had less innocence when they pressed into her face for kisses, when they asked to tangle and cuddle limbs. They insisted she stay in the bedchamber and not move to her own separate room.

It had taken getting used to movement beside her as a hand tugged her hair, or a tale twined her waist. Or a leg curled with hers or hands holding her face. Sometimes in the dark Mac would press his head to her back, using her as a pillow. Wukong would yank her in when he thought her too sleepy to remember and whisper all the things he loved about her.

It would have been sweet. It was touching in a way. If not for the way they revealed themselves. If not for that memory and what she knew now had come after.

It had not taken too long after that for her to start realizing that, though Wukong had saved her, neither of them had any regret of what happened. Neither of them was going to let her go.

When she asked about it or started talking of missing her home- the simple living, the ability to really on herself and choose for herself- Wukong would laugh and launch into one of his tales. He would brush her hair with his claws, run his face against hers and try and deflect her attention to new things.

Macaque, if Wukong was absent, would let her talk. Usually it happened when he asked her to brush his fur or he in turn asked to brush her hair. Peaches thought, just a bit, that the reason Mac was better at listening was for all the ears he had. Each time however, when she got to the part about how this had been her fault, he would stop mid way through a braid or pin and pull her in. Macaque would kiss the tears from her eyes, would press himself close to her chest.

“It was Never your fault Peaches.”

“I remember. I remember he went back- you said he—“

“Hush love you’ll grow hysterical. What Wukong did was justified- he defended you.”

“He killed.”

“I have killed.” He kissed her temple, gentle in his reprimands. He wouldn’t try and brush her words beneath a rug like Wukong. Instead he gave her a smile as wide as the crescent moon. “Let’s finish your hair and get you dressed. We can go see the baby’s, I know how you love the baby’s.” Baby monkeys were her weakness. They had been what led to her loving Mac before she had known he was a demonic warlord.

Peaches rubbed at her eyes and stood, the sorrow in her heart heavy still but the tears at least had stopped. Now she was just tired. Tired and cold and wanting to escape the feeling of it all. So she shed her courtly attire. All the clips and jewels and baubles and bits felt heavy. She placed them within the box at her armoire, then loosened her hair from its bindings. Jade pins, pearl necklaces, golden bracelets with bells of silver (Wukong loved this the best of all) all glimmered back in the firelight.

A pretty price.

She snapped the box closed.

On nights like this, she wanted to wear nothing but her smock, her simple clothing, and bury herself as far as she could go into the bed she shared with her husbands.

It was more of a pit set into the ground, circular in nature. Silken pillows, red sheets and a hoard of anything plush and furred had been thrown into the pit. It was also a snug place to bury herself within and one of the few things she didn’t feel resentment too right away. When the outside felt too bright and she couldn’t go about the mountain to her usual quiet places, she would retire here. To burrow, to bury, to hide.

Peach fell back into the pit of blankets and pillows and pulled herself beneath a fur of some striped monster Macaque had skinned and gifted to her. Tonight the bitter truth was hard to swallow and did circles in her head.

You did this. You caused this. You killed them. This is your fault.

She closed her eyes and hoped … hoped for what might be the worst thing yet. Her husband's return.

A time later she stirred. Something was in her room- was walking to the bed. Peaches felt a flutter of fear before hands reached into her hiding place and simply slid her out.

“Hello darling.” The silken voice belonged to none other than Macaque. His clawed hands entwined around her waist, his teeth nipping at her ear. “You are up late.”

“Does that mean it will be a late morning?” Wukongs voice came from the other side of the room. Peaches could see the ginger monkey removing armor from his shoulders and stretching. As the darker brother kept making a snack of her shoulder, Peaches noticed that the shine of Wukongs paldrom was dimmed. Something black coated the golden imprint of sunbursts across its armored surface. “I love late mornings! Means more time together.”

Blood?

“Peaches?” She turned her head, trying to see Mac. He had left off nipping her skin. A hand came away from her wrist and tipped her chin, forcing her to stare directly into his violet eyes. “What has upset you?”

Everything. Myself. Wukong. You. It was that simple question that set her sorrow to flowing again. She was confused, upset, and she wanted comfort. The only ones who could give her comfort were the very ones who caused her distress.

A vicious cycle.

The pillows behind her sagged. Wukongs hands were more aggressive in their touches, turning her about to stare into her face. He noted the tears, the bruising beneath her eyes. His lip curled in anger.

“Has someone upset you?” Wukong asked. He seemed ready to stand again, to grab his armor and step out into the night. “I will drag them here to give an apology. You name them and I will fetch them.”

Peaches shook her head.

“Just ….” You killing the villagers, Macaque telling me plainly that it was for the best, and my own head making me relive that night of events. Over and over and over.

“…. Myself.”

His face softened as he chirped a reassurance, pressing his nose to hers. Macaque peppered her in gentle and butterfly soft kisses to the back of her neck. The three fell back into the nest, limbs entwined and hands holding. Macaque had Peaches face buried in his chest as she sobbed silently. He cooed. He whispered how everything would be right as rain in the morning. His hands ran through her hair and messaged her scalp. Wukong held his Peaches, pressing her back to his chest in a solid wall against the world outside. He lavished her in praises and compliments, sometimes getting carried away and talking about himself until his brother would remind him with a flick to his forehead that it was their Peaches he should be reassuring.

And through it all, through this twisted and tangled weave of limbs and fur and warmth and sorrow, Peaches felt love. It grew in this dark place still, wanting to thrive. But how could it?

Still she fell asleep, lashes sparkled with tears and her heart lighter. One could only be sad so long in the wake of such waves of attention. Wukongs and Macaques love was the only solution to this ailment they had inflicted upon her, and she, the addict, swallowing the medicine that would give her release.