Chapter Text
The forests are called home for many. There are birds, grass dwellers, ponds of fish, insects, and all manner of creatures who find shelter among the trees.
Additionally, those truly fit to house and maintain the endless fields reside there, often hidden from the sight of mere mortals; the Nymphs— divine, lesser deities, who green the land with flowers, trees, herbs, and vegetation alike. Said to be extremely beautiful and temptatious, the nymphs remain in the forest all their lives and spend their time near various water sources when traveling or gathering with their kin.
The only creatures privy enough to catch a glimpse of these beings are others exuding that same ethereal makeup. For, if a higher deity wished to find a nymph, they need only know how to see past the camouflage that often-fooled mortals, causing them to turn a blind eye.
On a day like any other, two such nymphs stroll through the forest side-by-side, young and unbothered. Twins, only set apart by their eyes and hair, both have braids just the same to frame their faces. Unnatural blue dyes the ends of one's hair, while the other’s remains a moonlit sky.
Black braids bouncing as he skips in his leaf-sewn romper, Himmel gossips loudly for even the birds above to hear about an upcoming event, and the other listens fondly while brushing his fingers along the environment.
Here and there, the other, more attentive twin plants flowers in otherwise barren areas. Softly, he wordlessly encourages each. Grow, grow, grow. Live and be a beauty unto this world.
Finding a particular spot near the lake that seems ripe and ready for new life, the nymph bids his brother, who’s engrossed in his chatter, to rest with him while he gets to work laying down the roots for an apple tree. That is where the twin finds himself pestered by Himmel’s need to fill silence.
"Ventiiii,” Himmel sing-songs as he threads small flowers into his brother’s hair. “You don't seem very excited about the ball. What's wrong? Nothing to wear?" he teases. They both know that the gathering is no place to be dressed up— not unless one was planning to circumvent the evening entirely by standing off to the side.
In light of that, he teases back, "I should be asking you that, considering I plan on stealing your favorite fashion combination."
Himmel’s fingers stutter. "Not my mushroom hat and stockings! You mustn't! We already share the same face, no need to pair attire, too!"
Venti only coos, "Aw, my poor Melon! I know you hate to match. Your ideas are just too fun to snatch." As the other pouts his dismay, Venti takes a flower, gaudy and bright, and sticks it behind his brother’s ear. Even still, Himmel remains beautiful, and knowing so, he brushes his fingers under his own jawline to add to his dramatics.
"Ugh! What will I wear then!? I suppose I could make do by wearing my moss corset… Maybe, the one with the flower bust? That would make the main event quite a hassle..." His cute brows furrow, and Venti can’t help but snicker as Himmel trails off, muttering to himself.
"Worry not, my sweet brother. I’m sure whoever you bewitch will make quick work of any of your attire. Not even the son of Suns could resist such a pretty face."
Himmel’s hands clasp in prayer, face scrunching. "If the Sun wills it. I'd like nothing more than a god to sweep me off my feet and use me to rid themselves of all their inhibitions!" A happy sigh ends his manifestation before he’s clutching Venti’s hands, momentarily interrupting his gardening. "Don't you feel the same?"
"It's hard to say…” he evades. “I'm not too keen on being looked down on by the gods as they graze their hands through us. Though lower in divinity we may be, I don’t want any of them helping themselves to my body without a smidge of tact.” At his huffing, Himmel rolls his eyes.
“Listen,” Venti pleads. “Even our elder kin speak of their ill behavior often! You know I'm not opposed to an inconsequential ‘frolicking in the shrubs’— but these ‘gods’ make empty promises of luxuries, love, and all other forms of lip service, only to leave weeping nymphs in their wake." He looks out over the water as Himmel's fingers slip from his, allowing him to continue grooming his apple tree.
"We’re beautiful by nature; that’s just the way it’s always been. A broken nymph heart is much like the bottom floor of a swamp, home to nothing but rot. A heart that forgets what beauty even means as it's stripped from the world forever is nothing to take lightly. If I had to pick between the two, I'd sooner pick my good looks and will over being a plaything for a god. Not even the Sun could convince me to do so."
"Oh silly," Himmel chuckles, but Venti can tell he's worried now. "That's why you go in with no expectation and don't trust the words of a god! It's just a night to get inebriated, decorate their laps, and enjoy the festivities. Though tempting they may be, if they’re ‘empty promises’, let them be empty and think nothing of them. You can't fall prey to pretty words that you don't believe."
To this, Venti has no rebuttal. He hums thoughtfully, reaching back to brush his fingers against newly grooved wood, tickling the trunk of the tree. The trunk takes the extra nudge to flourish into branches, beautifully greening leaves, and buds. Finally, the blossoms bloom and Venti leaves the rest of its maturing to the tree itself. It makes for a gorgeous umbrella, shielding them from the Sun’s harsher rays, and all of the colorless flowers that grew with the nymph’s presence decorate it nicely.
Getting Venti’s attention again, his brother asks, "We'll go and have fun, right, Ven?"
Venti still isn’t keen on engaging in the activities in the same reckless way he knows his brother will, but like Himmel, he’s a nymph, and can't help his curiosity in all of the pleasures the world has to offer. Even the calm waters, glittering bright with sunlight, reflect his hidden excitement.
A nod seals it, and Himmel breaks into a smile, hugging Venti tight around the shoulders under the freshly bloomed tree. Venti chuckles and returns the embrace with a single hand on the other’s arm. "By the way, I was kidding about the outfit. Your dress of choice is safe for now. I have other plans in mind."
"Oh, thank the Sun! I really didn't want to waste a good corset on a war god— What are you going to wear?"
Venti grants the other a devious smirk. "Silk."
"Vennn, that's so hard to get! Do we have some at home?"
"Nope~" he sing-songs gleefully.
"Ahhh! We have to find the worms right away! It'll never get done in time!"
"Relax, Mel, we can gather them later!"
"The ball is in three days!" He's already standing, looking around frantically. "Ugh! You have no sense of urgency! I should be able to find at least four or so— or maybe we’ll need five? I'll go while you finish your tree!"
"Mel—!" Reaching out for his twin, he grasps nothing but air as the other flits through the trees, hunting for the specimens. Hand falling to his knee as he pulls them up to lean on the tree, he pouts. "...I was finished already," he says to no one, left to entertain himself.
Well, as long as it's taken care of...
He leans against the newly grown tree, knees pulled up. His leafy top and moss skirt keeps him comfortably warm under the shade, and he feels like sinking into the soil for a nap. The tree hums its gratitude under him as it thrives. The water is happy to nourish it, and the Sun’s rays do the same for its leaves. A happy and healthy tree, that's all Venti could have asked for.
Just as he begins to relax, eyes shut with his head tilted up to feel sunshine peeking through leaves, the tree begins whispering to him:
Look up. It’s watching. Look up. You're being admired.
What more to do than look?
Slowly, Venti’s eyes open to find a topaz gaze piercing down at him, unblinking. He doesn't scream nor holler at the sight, but he takes note that the thing looking at him cannot be seen fully through luscious leaves and flowers. However, its mass and gold color clashing with the greenery makes its presence unmistakable. There is no camouflage as many fearful creatures would don. It is not trying to hide, for it is not threatened.
Used to garnering the attention of wildlife, Venti only stares back with a smile. He inspects the being’s silhouette quietly, making a game of guessing just which creature’s eye he’s caught. Could it be a snake? A large moth? Perhaps, it’s a curious monkey? Yet, the tree joins his game advantageously, whispering loudly, ‘Feathers!’ and his stare softens as he extends a hand, crooking a finger to present as a landing zone.
A bird, he concludes victoriously, thinking he’s won his game. "My, my! What a curious bird. Won't you come down? I’m afraid this newborn tree cannot withstand your weight," he reasons.
No movement is made, save for an unimpressed blink.
Venti frowns lightly, never having had trouble like this with the locals. Perhaps this one needed some encouragement?
"I see... perhaps we can come to an agreement? I'll give you something to snack on and you can come down to eat it? If you find my trade displeasing, we can create a different arrangem—"
The words are barely out of his mouth before those eyes shut. Then, a dark figure drops from the tree and to his side, far larger than he had expected. Large wings compel him to lift his hands defensively, but those long golden appendages quickly curl back to reveal the… man?
No. Not a man of men, something larger than life. A figure that imitates man but sets itself apart with primal features. Taloned fingers, hawk-like eyes, layers of almond brown feathers that covered him from low on his hips to his ankles, and from there his Aves feet, three toes per foot and a talon for each — all of it spoke to the possession of some higher power.
What Venti witnesses is closer to immortality itself. A being whose hair cascades down his shoulders in dark strands threaded with beautifully intense jade highlights. Just like his wings, his skin displays the Sun's kiss and takes Venti's breath away. Yes, his skin — certainly not his bare chest — as the being lacks any article of covering. His sculpted form, dark, stenciled arms, and the many muscles that ripple down them are gorgeous and made to be put on display.
Venti wants nothing more than to tenderly brush and braid those locks into a high ponytail, then seat a headpiece befitting only the Sun itself upon his head to crown him. Only after that would Venti redirect himself to running his hands down that amazing body and have strong stenciled fingers brush up his thighs to rumple his skirt. To share breath with him just for one measly—
Topaz eyes open and click to meet Venti’s gaze, waiting as though he were still in that tree, ready to pounce. The nymph swallows, but there’s only the residue of saliva there to soothe him.
Oh gods, he's looking at me!
"Ah. Sorry. Are you hungry?"
The figure nods, and the nymph assumes that means their deal is on, despite the mistaken identity. He inches onto his feet to stand and reaches for one of the blossoms, aware of the others gaze on him the entire time. The petals burst away, and the fruit rapidly matures from an indistinguishable purple bulb to a bright, red apple.
During this time, he glances to the being on the ground, watching in awe. A tad smug, he pulls it free and pats the trunk.
Thank you, my dear, he communicates to the young tree. Then, he offers the fruit to his winged companion, who gets up to graze its skin with his long nails.
Venti tries to smile, but it slowly wanes as he realizes the apple is not being taken. Instead, the other’s fingers trail it until his hand is nearly wrapped around it. In this position, their arms link as Venti’s is drawn forward. In a movement that has Venti’s eyes wide and flowers blossoming down his arm, the man clasps his hand around the apple, catches many of the nymph's fingers between his and the fruit, and brings their combined hands up to his opening mouth.
Venti watches sharp canines tear the flesh away viciously, with a loud, satisfying crunch that reminds him of bones underfoot, buried in overgrowth. Swallowing thickly, he feels the juice trickle into his palm and down his arm, rolling in a futile retreat from the rough pillaging of the bitten site.
His heart catches when another taloned hand lifts to his slim elbow, lifting his arm so that the creature may wrap his mouth around the rolling bead, and swipe up the trail with his tongue.
His thick, hot, long tongue.
It sends shivers up the poor boy's spine and makes him gasp. Yellow eyes still pierce him, and he feels enraptured by the pressure of having to maintain eye contact in fear of losing that red, hot connection.
Once the offending juice is lapped up, the man chews, cheeks bulging as his powerful jaw mashes sweetness into pulp. But he doesn't let Venti go. No, he holds him, body and gaze.
Every thought in Venti’s head is blaring with warning sounds, a pack of coyotes flashing before his eyes, as the man looks him up and down. He needs to say something, but his mouth is full of sand, his nethers are suddenly twitching with want, and he does not trust himself.
"Do you like this place?" He's caught off guard by the innocent question, the other's eyes trailing him with a softer curiosity.
It gives him the strength to look away, over to the scene beside them. "Huh? U-hm, the lake? Yeah, it's pretty."
“Would you say it’s spacious? A good place for wild growth?”
“Uh—” he gulps, but his mouth is so dry it burns to do so. “Yeah, the soil here is very rich, and the grounds extend pretty far, considering the size of the lake.”
“I see,” he acknowledges nonchalantly, taking another bite that sprays juices across Venti’s fingers. Venti wonders if he’ll lap it up the same as before, but the other’s mouth strays away from his hand to chew.
Come to think of it…
“Do you have a name, stranger? I’ve not seen you around this neck of the woods before. Are you a visitor from afar? Or are you taking up new residence nearby?”
The winged-being shuffles in place. It’s subtle, but enough that Venti feels the fluctuation in the earth. “You could say I hail from afar. My name is… Xiao,” it stinks of omission— some hidden truth — but Venti doesn’t mind it, as long as he has something to call him by.
The name laps through his stream of consciousness with powerful strokes. “Xiao…” he tests the name, feeling it smooth over grainy sand. “A lovely name for a lovely one like yourself. I’m Venti.”
Xiao’s lids lower as he seems to turn the information around in his head, and Venti giggles at the hints of innocence that pop up from underneath a hard exterior. For such an intimidating figure, Xiao conveys the grace nature has bestowed to him, alpha-like and predatory, but still carries the naive air of a newly born fawn, standing on shaky legs.
He swallows loudly and Venti gives him a questioning stare, seeing the seed of comprehension sprout behind honey eyes. "You need not flatter me."
"Oh? But I'm not, am I? You're quite lovely, and beauty deserves compliments. Any being for miles would say the same."
"My ‘beauty’ is nothing compared to yours," Xiao replies. No flirtatious tone, no gimmicks, just an honest opinion stated as though it were fact.
Venti’s gaze wanders, unable to bear the sincerity in it. "My! Who's the one flattering now? Do you talk to all you meet in the same manner? Wherever you hail from, you must be quite the charmer." He laughs to cover up his flustered state, feeling bound to the man as they stand under the apple tree.
The sound of another bite being taken brings his eye back questioningly, watching Xiao continue to eat from his hand.
"I take it you're a scout of some sort. Is this your first time eating today?"
Chewing slows. "It is…"
Curious, the nymph asks, "Is it tasty?"
"Yes."
"Would it not be tastier if you took the apple from my hand?"
"Hmm…" His other hand reaches up to take the fruit as suggested.
However, he’s still clutching Venti’s open palm in the other.
The nymph is about to slide his hand gently away, when it is suddenly pulled to Xiao’s face, blocking the bottom of his face like a mask with his predatory gaze peeking through Venti’s fingers. A tongue pads Venti’s palm and he gasps, zeroing in on that sensation against his skin.
The noise does nothing to startle the winged man as he licks between his fingers. Venti’s nethers twitch involuntarily when more of Xiao’s tongue feeds through, revealing an amazing length going down his knuckles and past his wrist. Just as quickly, it's concealed again, taken back into Xiao's lips so that he can mouth over each of Venti’s fingertips.
By the Sun, Venti can hardly breathe, and each move Xiao makes casts a dizzying spell of desire. Flowers are blooming along his skin, tattling on him with their various hues from soft, budding whites and pinks to lusty reds and proposing, rich burgundies. Even under the shade, Venti’s face is attacked with heat. Meanwhile, Xiao’s eyes reflect a burning that neither of them speaks aloud.
Apple juice is licked clean from him, yet Xiao takes both of Venti’s ring and middle fingers into his mouth. Closing his lips around the two digits — down to the webbing — he closes his eyes… and sucks.
Wet, warm, and the texture of sin, Xiao’s grooved and bumpy palette works his skin. Even whilst being spared those daggered teeth, Venti experiences it all. So, of course, he imagines that same sensation all across his body, from root to tip, and especially over his various pleasure petals.
Legs shaking, the nymph grows more aware of how wet he has become, feeling moisture spread as his thighs fidget together.
The nymph’s whole-body screams that he wants to be fucked, but he holds his teeth over his bottom lip to keep himself from hollering his want at the man himself. He can already see the other mounting him, taking him right against the tree, and shoving that tongue down his throat. In turn, he would lay bushes of flowers down to seduce the other further, and give Xiao’s feast some much needed privacy—
Venti’s fingers are released, sopping wet, and the sudden brush of wind against them makes him shiver and whimper softly. That's when Xiao graces him with his stare, smirking as he lowers their hands.
"You were right. You are tastier without the apple."
The whine in Venti’s throat is just about to break free, the thought of this man devouring him overloading his senses. It’d only take a moment to rid himself of his attire and offer himself up to those sharp teeth, strong hands, and whatever fantastic appendage hid behind those downy feathers.
However, behind him, the snapping of a twig catches both their attention and causes Xiao’s pointed ears to twitch.
Xiao’s wings are suddenly at their full span, hand divorcing itself from Venti’s. The wind around them flips, tossing leaves, water, and grass with such force, Venti has to shut his eyes to avoid the debris. Once it dies down, he slowly opens them again to find that Xiao is no longer there; gone with the wind.
His brother’s voice breaks through the wave of disappointment he feels with an unappreciated air of excitement. He’s grabbing Venti by his arm now, inspecting his face with a curious grin.
"Ven! Ven, are you alright!?"
"I was. Now, I'm not so sure." Venti rolls his eyes and tries with difficulty to forgive Himmel for his trespasses. "Did you find the silkworms?"
"Of course I did— nevermind that! What happened?"
"I was just feeding a wayward scout," he says, looking down to find the half-eaten apple discarded on the ground as well. He wouldn't touch it. It could stay and act as fertilizer. "I would have been feeding him quite a bit more than just an apple if you hadn't trounced back so—"
Himmel interrupts him though, hands flying to Venti’s shoulders. "'A scout'? Are you daft!? That was no scout!"
Venti blinks, supposing he knew that much, but what was making Himmel so uppity? "Alright, ‘not a scout’. Anything else I should know?"
Silver blue eyes are wide, blinking in disbelief. "You seriously don't know who that was?"
"...Huh?"
Himmel’s grin widens slowly, overbearingly teasing and bright. "Sun-kissed skin? A sculpted body that speaks for its own divinity? Golden wings? Ring any bells?!"
Venti's eyes click from side to side…
He gasps as the truth that flaunted itself right under his nose dawns on him. His hands cover his gaping mouth, and his face grows several degrees hotter, and Himmel begins cackling, rejoicing in his despair.
Wings flash through Venti’s memory and topaz eyes bespeak ‘Xiao’’s true identity.
He was no man— nor bird or scout.
No. Xiao was a god.
And Venti… was screwed.