#dryad AU

[rajanilefreak]

SO six day ago I saw a prompt froM writing Prompts that I commented on. What I expected was to drop that comment there like a bastard child and eventually forget about it because 'busy' and 'too many WIPs', only remembering it if someone happened to comment on it.

Now I have a full on TMA AU in the works with Dryad!Jon, a whole lore dump of dryad development and growth and a whole new backstory just for the AU where a Guest for Mr Spider went a lot differently because technically the book doesn't exist until Jon's bully, who is also a dryad end up chopped down while in tree form and becomes the book. (new lore dump, sometimes supernatural books happen, but only if all the pages have dryad tree having been used on them).

So, as you can, see, I'm not doing fine because I already have 4 whole TMA WIPs going on and I did not need this AU to come along right now. 8)

[kaitheenbydoesthings]

More Faebruary!! 💖✨

This one should have been first, but I had Mystical Bonds ready first and I was anxious to post it lol

For the prompt Illusion, as the title might suggest

[winter-dayz]

Reclamation

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader Dryad AU; Greek Mythology AU Genre: Fluff; Horror Words: 2070 Warnings: dead dove: do not eat; gore; minor character description; murder; violence

Masterlist | Fictober Masterpost

Taglist:  @soobin-chois

The Greeks once believed that every tree had a spirit. The dryads. They were beautiful nymphs, yet shy, avoiding many of the major gods and humans alike. Although, many were quite fond of dancing and could be a bit wild, some going so far as to wander to the revelries of Dionysus. Others remained steadfast in their forests, only befriending Artemis, as she often protected them from unwanted advances. One thing in common, the dryads were fragile, relying on their bonded tree for life. If their tree died, so did the dryad perish.

Thus, as human civilization expanded and the power of the gods—even Artemis—dwindled with man’s lessening belief, the dryads’ forests became exposed and unprotected. They were destroyed and paved over in favor of cities and suburbs.

Humans planted new trees, but they held no spirit. No soul. Just as the humans held no care for the gods or spirits themselves.

Soon enough, there were so few dryads it was a blessing if a forest even had one. They had to become reclusive, not just shy. Alluring and entrancing, not just beautiful. Vicious, not fragile.

In a kill-or-be-killed world, the remaining dryads chose to protect their trees. Even at the cost of spilling mortal blood.

🎃

“Authorities puzzled: unexplained phenomena or foul play?” “Activists call for project closure.” “Investigators remain baffled by strange disappearances; Development to move forward.”

The headlines surrounding the project were all the same, and the public was becoming increasingly worried. Thus, the real estate development company was forced to send out an environmental inspector to properly survey the land and wildlife.

Something was causing those people and machinery to go missing. It needed to be dealt with, quickly and quietly.

Enter Kim Namjoon.

He’d always dreamed of helping save the environment. And yet, somehow, he’d gotten roped into a corporate world that couldn’t care less about it. His job had simply become a way to placate others that the capitalist greed was justified, that of course the land and animals weren’t necessary and there was no chemical factor that could harm precious human lives.

He felt so dead inside. But he would do his job regardless… He would march into that forest and, regardless of what he found, he would do as the company ordered him and report everything fine to continue on. Because it was his job, and he had no other option.

🎃

He hadn’t noticed the woman yet. Namjoon was too busy picking through the rubble and destruction of the survey equipment, puzzled by how quickly the brush and flowers had grown over it, to notice her.

She watched silently, sitting on a low tree branch with her legs swinging playfully. Her head was tilted in contemplation.

He was quite pretty.

He also didn’t feel like the others had. This man, tall and golden with broad shoulders but a careful, gentle disposition was special.

He wouldn’t hurt the forest. She could tell.

As he went to pluck one of the wildflowers, she spoke up, “You shouldn’t do that.”

The man jolted, falling backwards onto his butt and whipping his head around to find the voice. She giggled at his unintentional silliness.

She hopped down gracefully from the tree branch and approached the man. “The flowers have feelings. If you pick it, you’re hurting it. You shouldn’t do that.” She reiterated.

Namjoon nodded wordlessly, stuck in a daze as he gazed upon the strange woman.

She was tall, not because of her stature, but the way she carried herself. Sure and confident. She didn’t seem to walk, but rather glided along the grass, while flowers parted for her bare feet. Her skin was just barely tinted green with dark, swirled patterns like vines creeping around her bare arms and legs. She tilted her head at his mute response, hair—dark and rich like the earth—falling to the side to reveal long pointed ears, and narrowed her golden eyes on him. 

While Namjoon should’ve been terrified of the alienesque woman, he couldn’t find it in him to be anything other than intrigued. She was so striking and beautiful; her aura felt warm like the summer sun, and she seemed to glow with that same brightness too.

“I– I’m sorry…” He finally whispered, bowing his head slightly in apology at the seemingly goddess in front of him.

She hummed in acceptance. “Who are you?” It was less of a question and more of a demand; her tone was firm and steady.

“I’m Kim Namjoon…” He breathed out, coming to stand on his feet, although shakily. “My company has been trying to develop this land and everything keeps being destroyed… everyone keeps going missing.” “Ah. The trespassers.”

She said nothing further, yet motioned for him to follow her. He doesn’t know why, but he did.

She led him through the underbrush of the forest, once again the plants seemed to part for her, until they arrived at a semi-clearing. The area was dark, the trees and surrounding bushes blotting out the sun and providing secret coverage.

“I gave them proper burials.” She explained simply, motioning to the sticks and bundles of flowers arranged as if the area was a graveyard.

Namjoon swallowed thickly, realizing it was a graveyard.

“Wh– Why?”

“It’s a sacred duty to bury the dead, and without a proper burial, their souls would not be able to rest. They would haunt the forest.”

“No!” Namjoon’s eyes widened, and he gasped, “I meant why did you kill them!” Fear struck his heart at the thought, and the feeling pushed against another strange unidentified sense.

Her head tilted again. She seemed to do that every time she considered something, tossing the idea around. “I didn’t… not directly.”

“What do you mean…” Namjoon hesitated to ask.

“The earth reclaimed them.” Her eyebrows rose, expecting him to question her again.

When he nodded for her to go on, she rolled her eyes playfully before the seriousness returned. She began to walk away, and Namjoon scrambled to follow. Soon enough they arrived at a massive ash tree, much larger than he’d ever seen them grow with blooms of beautiful white flowers.

“This is my tree,” the strange woman explained simply.

“Your tree? So do you own the land? It’d be illegal for us to–” Namjoon rambled as he made notes in his journal.

She giggled. “One does not own land. The land belongs to itself. But, I am a dryad, and this tree is my life force. If it is cut down or destroyed, so will I.”

“A… dryad…” Namjoon had heard mythology referencing the creatures but never believed any of it was real. Now that he was face to face with such a mystical being, he couldn’t not believe.

“Yes, my name is Y/N, and for thousands of years this has been my home.”

🎃

Namjoon spent several days going back to the forest and getting to know Y/N. His bosses had hounded him after the first excursion for information and clearance, but he told them his findings were inconclusive and he’d need more time.

In reality, he was trying to come up with a plan to derail the project. He had grown to like Y/N and didn’t want to see her die, especially after hearing about her past.

“The grove was beautiful,” Y/N sighed, combing her hands through Namjoon’s fluffy strands. “There were dozens of us here, and we just lived so freely. So peacefully. Dionysus would bring wine to those of us too shy to attend his parties, and Artemis provided us friendship and protection. You would’ve loved it, I think.”

“Do you miss your family?” Namjoon leaned his head back into her lap, catching the glimmer in her eye before she masked it again. “You must’ve been lonely…”

She shrugged. “It’s been so long that I can barely remember not being alone.”

And, although he’d prefer if he could save her and the land, he didn’t want anyone else to die either. But unfortunately, Namjoon’s boss’s boss—the head of the development project—had run out of patience and decided to take matters into his own hands. Despite Namjoon having put in for a temporary protective order of the forest.

He arrived with a small group: half a dozen demolition crew, the foreman, and a few big machinery trucks.

Amidst their discussion and commotion, driving the trucks in and marking off where to start clearing, Y/N had extricated herself from where Namjoon had been laid over her lap.

“Stay here.” She commanded. Namjoon’s brows furrowed, and he sleepily rose to his feet.

“What’s wrong?”

“There are trespassers. I will handle it. Stay here.” She was stern, and when Namjoon moved to follow her anyway, vines rapidly grew from the earth and restrained him.

As Y/N moved through the brush, staying hidden from view of the humans, the trees came to life.

Their branches began twisting, their snaps resembling the sound of bones cracking as they contorted into unnatural shapes. The gnarled twigs reached towards the trespassers like skeletal fingers, and the roots ripped through the earth like writhing snacks, poised to attack.

The air of the usually very beautiful, peaceful forest became thick, and the sweet smell of wildflowers became cloying. As the humans exclaimed their confusion, they gagged and choked on poisonous herbaceous fumes, making them weak.

Those that fell to their knees easily were bound by vines, ensnaring them rapidly in a web, and the earth seemed to open up and swallow them alive.

Those that tried to fight, tried to run found the wind whipping around them, blowing razor-sharp leaves across their skin and lacerating layer upon layer away. When they fell in a heap of bloody flesh, the earth too swallowed their cries and screams.

Only the big boss remained, having watched the nightmarish plants come to life and destroy his men. Even the trucks and machines had been wrapped in vines, roots piercing through the metal, and sinking into the dirt.

The grotesque branches surged at him and wrapped around his extremities. He was choking, begging for air, while being pulled ruthlessly in four directions. His torment ended as a final branch pierced into his stomach, snaking up and back out his open mouth.

Blood dripped to the ground from the corpse, left on display at the entrance to the forest. A warning. A deadly promise.

🎃

Namjoon never witnessed the horrific murders. He had remained tied up near her ash tree. That doesn’t mean he was blissfully unaware of what occurred. No, he heard the screams, the begs for mercy from an unseen demon. Prayers to a vengeful god.

And yet, Namjoon couldn’t find it in himself to be too disturbed.

Maybe he had been hypnotized by the strange, dryad woman, but every day that he spent with her, he felt she was more and more justified in her response.

It was just self-defense, after all.

Eventually Namjoon was able to push through the proper paperwork to protect the land. With the head of development out of the way, it was actually rather easy…

He quit shortly after, becoming a certified park ranger and specially requesting the forest. His new bosses thought him insane for wanting to patrol the area where so many had gone missing, but no one else wanted that shift so they gladly gave him free reign of it.

Y/N, as thanks for helping to protect her and her home, had the trees craft a home around her ash tree. Their home.

“What made me so special?” Namjoon smiled softly, hands caressing the sides of his little nymph.

She beamed up at him, “You didn’t look at the forest with greed in your soul. You looked at it like it was living and breathing.”

“Can I finally kiss you?” He asked, lips already a hair’s breadth away.

Barely a nod, and she felt his lips meet hers. It was gentle and careful, just as Y/N originally thought he would be. His palm slowly traced up her side to cradle her cheek; her own hands slid from their resting spot on his broad chest to tangle in his hair.

As they part, Y/N grinned sneakily, mischief in her eyes, while she plucked a baby leaf from his tresses. Her finger traced down his ears, already beginning to point, and moved to caress his own cheek.

“You are most definitely special.”

[retroillustrates]

Equivalent to my Siren!Madara, here's a Dryad!Hashirama

[forestshadow-wolf]

Cw: mention of suicide (not graphic), (vague) mentions of torture

Vamp!ghost in a pure silver muzzle so he can't prey on anyone.

He got turned and muzzled by human!Roba because the torture got so bad that he killed himself, and Roba couldn't have that, so he had him bit. By vernon.

The sadistic bastard was stoked to be able to keep Ghost around a little longer as his "play thing"

The muzzle, little more than a cage for his face, was five horizontal bars with one bisecting the center vertically. At the base of the mask where it sat on his mandable was a hinge, so it could expand and contract because Roba still wanted him able to talk and scream, like the sick fuck he is.

It burned and bubbled and hissed as it seared onto his face, melting the skin so it would cling to the metal when it "healed"

With Ghost's newfound immortality Roba was able to have so much more "fun" with him. He kept him for years, cutting him open whenever he felt like it, just "to see what's going on in there". Branding him with silver to "see what it does" (like he didn't already fucking know). Starving him for months on end. And the muzzle never once came off. When he did get it was through a straw that he was graciously given a single pint of blood.

Then he got bored. And he threw him away. And still the muzzle wasn't removed.

No not thrown away. Buried. In a load of shit. In the desert. One last experiment. To see what Ghost could withstand. He was doomed to burn to death, and even then it was to starve for eternity, or drink through a straw for the rest of his life. He sure as hell wouldn't be getting the muzzle off himself.

One good thing he learned through all this. How far he could break before he truely broke.

Roba locked him in Vernon's reinforced casket, and threw away the key. It took two days of nonstop beating at the wood before he got out, even with the help of the deceased vampire's jaw.

It took 3 days of hiding, and 4 nights of running at inhuman speeds to find the nearest army base.

He also found out that to say he was "starved" wasn't exactly accurate, but there was no other way to describe it. How else you do describe a lack of a need to eat, and yet feeling your body weaken just the same. How else do you explain the feeling of his body using up the blood in him. The way his heart never beats so he needs new blood to replace what has been absorbed or turned into waste, later to be released as venom. What word do you use to describe that othern than "starved", but it's an inhuman kind of starvation, so completely NOT human.

When price found him he was sucking his fifth stolen blood bag dry. He truely was "starved" after so long of not feeding.

The man said he was putting together a task force with the help and authority of a CIA agent. The man, Captain Price introduced him to a dryad, a nature spirit.

It's unusual for a spirits and sprites, especially ones so close to nature, to be in such a violent line of work. But here he was, nonetheless.

Price himself was a normal human, it's the only way the force was allowed to come into fruition.

Ghost was taken to a medic, to see if they could remove the constant burning silver from his face. But it was no use, the doctors said their tools were too soft to ceable to cut into his skin to remove the muzzle. And so there was nothing they could do, short of ripping the thing off, which would only cause more damage, and they didn't have the manpower to do so anyway.

So he stayed in the muzzle, donned a mask to avoid sun exposure, and price made sure to keep a constant stock of blood packs for him, even if sometimes he was reduced to dumping dehydrated pigs' blood into a glass of water, price made sure he was never "hungry" again.

Then price found soap. A natural born werewolf, he said. And he was all rambunctious and happy-go-lucky energy, or that's what it seemed like on the outside. Then Ghost learned that he was a sniper and demolitions specialist, with a wicked memory, and a background intense anti-interrogation training, and he has to wonder how much is for show.

It's only after they defeat hassan that soap asks about it. The muzzle. He knows he saw it when he removed him mask in Las Almas, but he said nothing about it, not did Ghost offer anything.

Soap says he thinks he can get the muzzle off, but they'll need to take leave, head back to his home. Ghost isn't sure how he likes the sound of that. He does want the burning silver off, but he's pretty sure he's heard that wolves and blood suckers weren't exactly friends. And while he's already dead, he can still be killed, and he definitely can't survive an entire pack of wolves (sans one)

Soap says it'll be fine, he'll vouch and/or protect(?) Him. Price encourages him to go, says he can finally get the stupid cage off. And gaz is laughing his ass off at his predicament, and just generally being unhelpful.

A phone call home to Mama Mactavish, explaining the situation had Ghost reluctantly agreeing to go, if only to appeasethe frantic woman. Soap requested 3 months medical leave for both of them, and price easily signed off on it, practically pushing them out the door.

Soap's home was nice, a fair bit or farmland with a large home that just seemed to radiate comfort.

Mama Mactavish was first to meet them at the door with a fresh batch of homemade danishes, she pulled them both into a bone crushing hug and ushered them inside. She didn't even flinch at the sight of the muzzle or the horribly "scarred" skin underneath or his fangs.

Simon wasn't so sure what to think about that, he'd never had this kind of kindness before. He didn't hate it. Everyone else was almost as friendly, and he couldn't tell if it was a pack of anomalies, or if the rumors were false. They even had fresh lambs' blood for him, warmed to perfection.

He and Johnny were given a day to rest and settle in, then they were being woken at the crack of dawn, to start collecting herbs and begin preparations. Mama explained that it was a family secret, so she swore him to secrecy.

He supposed it only made sense for a family of werewolves to know how to treat silver burns.

She put Johnny to work making so sort of... salve (us that what you call it? He wasn't sure), then mama had donned a pair of gloves and had him lay down with his head in her lap, she started massaging the salve into his skin around the muzzle.

It was slow work, and took hours to make even a small bit of progress, but progress it was. As more and more of the silver lifted, Johnny helped slide gauze underneath to prevent it from burning back on.

It took all day and most of the night to finally be able to lift the muzzle off, but Mama never once complained.

Simon thanked her profusely, and would be forever indebted to her, but she just waived him off.

A week later the wounds were still trying to heal over, and he knew by the end of their leave there would be little more than a faint scar over near-perfect skin.

There was one night that Johnny had joined him sitting out on the porch. One unable to sleep, and one who would never sleep again.

"Why did you help me?" It'd been running through his head since they arrived. "You hardly knew me."

"I know you enough." Johnny chuckled, knocking their shoulders together.

"But why?" He still didn't understand.

"You know what it's like to have the words 'echoic memory' on your file? I do. It's why I took all that extra training, put it to use a few times too. But nothing could have prepared me for being force-fed silver." Johnny shivered with a faraway look in his eyes. "The pain lasted months. I couldn't be active for nine months. I can only imagine what it must've been like to live with that on your face for years."

"Thank you."

Johnny nodded.

They spent the rest of the night there on the porch, at some point Johnny fell asleep on Simon, and Mama found them early in the morning.

[the-cactus-taco]

Well howdy dream, nightmare, been forever since I’ve drawn these two! And would you look at that, they just happen to have the literal best digital paint rendering I’ve done all year.

Anyways, enjoy my designs for the tree boys! I still think about them a lot

​

[articwolfclawartist]

She won’t appear in the tags ;-; fuck you tumblr

oh well, at least she’ll be archived here

EDIT: SHE’S BACK :D

[literallyjusttoa]

Had to visit my favorite little guys to break through some art block.

In that last one their having a cute lil coffee date and AoD ordered tea, unaware of how it was made.

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 11

There's a forest near Redania that is lush with color and flora. Every time Geralt camps there, he gets the best sleep of his life. There's always plenty of game for when he's hungry, and the birds follow after him, singing him songs. Every time he comes back, more and more odd qualities of the forest show. Most recently, flowers spawn wherever he or Roach steps. Roach finds this amazing (and very tasty), Geralt meanwhile is starting to find this suspicious. He's begun to hear a song in the breeze, and that's when he kicks roach into high gear and gets the hell out of there. But no matter how far he travels, in the back of his head, he can still hear the sad song, sung from a shaky voice. Eventually, he finds himself along the trail of the forest, and decides to risk it. The voice swaps immediately to a happy tune, and Geralt is being showered with deer and rabbits who are suspiciously suddenly always just near his camp, fish literally jumping out of the river toward him, birds flying after him to drop flowers on him. He decides that whatever is controlling the forest must be harmless, and even wishes it well as he rides off, only to hear the sad song start again as he leaves. He assures the forest he'll return again, and the song lightens to a cheery jig once more. When a monster known for spreading rot wherever it goes suddenly appears in Jaskier's forest, Jaskier knows his only chance is to sing his witcher back (and perhaps convince him to bring Jaskier with him next time.)

[bi-hop]

Kabru, stumbling back into his shared apartment, haunted, after he had to try dryad fruit juice in the process of pursuing a man for Purely Platonic Reasons: …

Rin: you good?

Kabru: no <3 *flops onto the couch*

Kabru to himself:

[aloysiavirgata]

Dryad universe prompt. William does something telekinetic at school. Maybe on purpose, maybe not.

William launches himself into the car like he’s escaping the paparazzi. “Go go go,” he hisses, raspy, to his mother.

Scully, bewildered, looks back at him. “William, there’s a line! This isn’t an action movie, what’s going on?”

He makes a noise like a dying walrus.

Heather up ahead in a Juicy tracksuit and day-glo safety vest, directing traffic like a fucking Busytown cop with rhinestones across her annoyingly fantastic ass.

She spots Scully and waves like a beauty queen.

Scully smiles back, waggling a few fingers.

“MOOOOMMMMM GOOOOO,” her son wails.

She whips around. “William Samuel Scully, what on earth is wrong with you?”

He slouches, scowls. “I messed up.”

Having been with his father for nearly two decades, she knows “I messed up” can mean anything from “I might have eaten a smidgen of evidence” to “I sort of released a serial murderer of children.”

Something throbs in her temporal lobe. “Tell me.”

“There was…there was this bird,” William says, hiccuppy. Curled against the door.

She knows. She knows before he says it that the bird hit a classroom window during recess and that its delicate flower-stem neck snapped and it fell and fell and fell.

“Oh, honey…” she murmurs, closing her eyes for a beat.

Her boy - her lovely, strange, terrifying, angel of a boy - makes another hiccuppy sound. “Katie handed it to me and she was crying and I didn’t know what to do, Mom, his eyes were so…and and his beak was a little bloody and Katie was crying and even Aiden looked really sad and he’s NEVER sad and I just…”

He sobs a little.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she breathes. “Oh, Will.”

“I pulled the… anyway. I made him alive and his eyes were so bright but everyone was talking and they told the teachers and…”

Her sweet, sweet boy. He never asked for this.

William is gasping, trying to stay in control. “Am I in trouble?”

Scully laughs a little, merging left as Heather waves. “Honey, no. Let me call Daddy, let’s go to The Melting Pot. Let’s eat cheese and chocolate until we’re sick.”

He sniffles, looks up. “You said to nev-“

“Cheese,” she says firmly, blinker on. “Chocolate.”

William smiles from the corner. His beautiful eyes, red-rimmed because he is too good.

“Okay,” he breathes, with a watery smile. “Okay.”

[michellecee0]

Simple Fantasy Au (redraw)

Ft: The siblings and Ms. Lovelett

Lily: Fairy

Billy: Pixie

New:

Old:

Bonus:

Ms. Lovelett: Dryad

(I just feel like it would fit her.)

That's all. Bye bye!

[eloaholiveira]

Stinker number 7 joins the gang!!! Hes a wood nymph/dryad/dru or smth

[orago-underline]

This timid tale is dedicated as a gift to @camilleflyingrotten , whose amazing, heartwarming artwork inspired this very story about how this two ethereal beings came to meet each other.

https://x.com/CamilleCailloux/status/1713584967815422034?s=20

About stars and golden scales ✨

The first sign of light began to tint the sky in a deep blue, dissolving the black velvet of the night into a soft, cold gradient, while the drowsy stars faded quietly, falling asleep languid and lazy, going off to dream their impossible dreams of billions of years. The dewdrops, as if they too were waking up, slowly ran down the foliage in the field, flowing almost without friction down the blades of leaves that were beginning to take on the colour of the coming sun. The cool breeze caressed the grass and awakened the wild flowers, touching their petals with a delicacy that could only be compared to that of lovers. And there, in the midst of the dawn spectacle, lying on the grass and surrounded by such beauty and strangeness, the satyr also woke up. Aziraphale was his name, and with the back of his hand he wiped the small drop of dew that had woken him from his face. Still lying down, he opened his eyes and the blue of the sky was reflected in his irises, as deep and cold as it was beautiful, and he remained gazing at the immensity, his mind full of scattered thoughts, his heart beating happily, as always, for his life...

Read the full story here

[befuddled-calico-whump]

riot kings characters as "pet dryads"?

Jin and Nabi are apple tree dryads; Melchior is an oak :D

this would shake up the story a bit: Melchior is a dryad "rebel" who's taking violent measures to try and get equal footing for his species

Jin and Nabi are still with the Fleet, which has taken a stance on "equal opportunity" and hired a few token dryads. Nabi has a rare strain of nature magic that makes her useful, and Jin is a foot soldier instead of being allowed on the spec ops team

Mercury would be a dryad who wants to escalate the violence against humans, and Wes would be a naiad (seen as more feral and dangerous)

[thearchertheprey]

you know summer is here when coach is outside photosynthesizing for more than 15 minutes a day