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replenaryindulgence · 3 months ago

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Before the Light: Chapter 2

Azriel x Calida (ka-lee-duh)/Reader

Summary: Calida wakes up disoriented, her captors' intentions unclear. As she learns more about the world around her, her path home becomes more uncertain.

Word count: 5.6k

Warnings: alcohol

a/n: Now we're getting into ittttt. I'm so excited to see where this fic goes. I love leaving things open-ended. can you tell lol? This series is based in my mind right after ACOSF, hence the tension between Az and Elaine. How would you react if you were Cal? I tried to put myself in her shoes & not in the shoes of someone familiar with the world (P.S. there are probably typos, I'm rereading it as we speak & I'm on the lookout lol plz forgive me)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

The throb at the base of your skull echoed to your temples. Groaning, you pulled the blanket up further to hide from the flickering light.

Sifting through your thoughts was like trudging through molasses; the events of the past day came reluctantly. The bite of the early morning air, the laughter that echoed over the lake. The pain in your head grew sharp and you rubbed circles trying to ease the pressure. Moments flashed in your mind. Toes in the water, the burnt taste of instant coffee on your tongue. The gleam of silver water through the trees as you ran.

It all hit you suddenly, dizzyingly; the forest, the strangers. You shot up. A wave of nausea had you clutching the stiff cushion beneath you. You took deep, burning breaths, forcing it to pass. For long moments you sat like this, taking careful glances, afraid to move too quickly.

The room was dimly lit. A small fireplace crackled before you, the light sharp in your eyes. The smell of rotting wood and smoke hung in the air. To your left was a door; the wood gnarly and weathered. The whole place was. There was little furniture; a small work table sat to the right of the fireplace, at the end of the bed a large armchair. The dark material glittered slightly in the firelight. It looked out of place, less subjected to the elements. There was nothing else — no one else. No light peered through the small windows.

The door flung open, the tall man with the stern face from the forest entered carrying pieces of wood under his arm. You heard the thudding of your heart in your ears. He didn’t speak. In three strides he hovered over the small work table. That’s when you noticed it, barely illuminated; the dagger at his side.

He spoke and you met his gaze, blinking through the panic as he held out a glass of water. You couldn’t move. He sighed, setting it on the stool next to the bed. Your eyes trailed him as he sat upon the small stool by the fire, stoking it with another piece of wood, keeping it alive. He looked over his shoulder and gestured to the glass, repeating the unfamiliar phrase. Your tongue felt like cloth in your mouth but the fear held you frozen in place.

He stood once more and walked to the table, searching through a small bag. The thud of chopping filled the cabin and you watched as he added ingredients to a small black pot. Several minutes passed, your gaze fell to the glass of water and you gave in to your thirst. The water streamed down your chin, dampening your collar.

“Where am I,” you choked out, voice sounding like you’d swallowed gravel. You knew he couldn’t understand. “What did you do to me?”

You tried to form a plan. It was dark, this place was unfamiliar. Your face heated. Your friends. They were probably scouring the woods looking for you; you had to find them. You reached into your pocket.

They’d taken your phone, your watch. Everything.

You tried to stand, or make for the door, but whatever they’d done to your head had the floor shifting beneath you. You couldn’t make it back like this. You sat back, leaning on the wall for support. ”Please,” you begged, though you weren’t sure what exactly for. You couldn’t make it three miles, not like this. You watched as the man hung the pot over the small fire and took a seat before it. He finally looked to you, and you held his stare. A minute passed like this, the two of you silent and unwavering.

His attention turned back to the fire, stirring the pot slowly, and you closed your eyes in defeat. Your mind led you through every twisted possibility.

When he spoke again, you found a wooden bowl sitting on the stool by the bed. He sat, watching you, his own bowl in hand. Your stomach snarled. You waited for him to take a bite. You looked at the stew inspectingly; vegetables peeked out of a thin broth. You brought it to your nose. He muttered under his breath. You hesitantly took a bite. It didn’t feel safe, eating what he’d made, but the aching in your head persisted and you’d do anything for it to stop.

You weren’t sure if it was just the hunger, but you’d never tasted anything like this. You barely swallowed before taking your next bite. Unfamiliar spices stuck in your nose. Setting the bowl aside you noticed the refilled glass. You reached for it, this time taking small sips as you settled against the wall, cautiously surveying the cabin once more. The only exit was the door, the windows were too small for you to fit through. You’d have to wait for him to leave or to be distracted, but you weren’t sure you could outrun him. You felt hopeless; you hadn’t outrun them before, when they wore those ridiculous wings. Maybe if you cried enough he’d let you go from annoyance. You tried to recount what exactly happened in the woods. All you could remember was the fear, and the pain.

The man walked over to the stool, grabbing the empty bowl. You watched as he moved through the space. He made his way to the end of the bed, settling into the armchair. You clutched the glass tightly as he fidgeted in his seat.

“I need to leave,” you gestured toward the door, pronouncing each word, though it’d do no good. “My friends are out there looking for me,” you patted your chest, ”just, please,” you were begging now, tears burned your eyes, “let me go.”

His head fell back onto the chair in dismissal. The tears that fell were hot. Panic filled your veins, taking over as you leapt up, but he was quicker. He slammed a fist to the door, blocking it. You stumbled back, legs hitting the cushions.

“Move,” you forced out. You pointed to the door again. He shook his head, this you understood.

“Yes.” You seethed.

He shook his head again and spoke a single word. ‘No’, you assumed. He pointed towards the bed.

You repeated the word he’d said to you. He shook his head, amused, avoiding your resolute stare. You tried for the door again, but he grabbed your wrist. That’s when you noticed — his hand. It was covered in scars. Both of them were. They rippled in silver and pink swirls of raised skin. He tore away his grip, crossing his arms. He stared past you with a cold gaze.

You fell backwards onto the bed, dragging yourself to the corner. He set the stool down with a loud thud before the door. His head fell back, eyes looking vacantly through the room. Your head mirrored his, leaning on the wall for some sense of support. You were stuck here — at least for the night.

…

You’d gotten little rest. You kept yourself curled up to the wall uncomfortably, eyes on the stranger. He never moved. You weren’t sure if he slept either. You’d spent the night contemplating every terrible scenario until your lips were puffy and your eyes swollen. You were thankful when the fire died down and you were able to cry in the cover of darkness. Exhaustion eventually took hold of you.

You woke abruptly as a loud knock sounded. Lifting your stiff head, your eyes squinted in the light as your captor stood, cracking his neck as he reached for the door. The man that grabbed you in the woods appeared beneath the frame. Your heart began to race.

He took a step in, ducking, as he looked at you with a small, tight smile. He handed over a small satchel. As they spoke, you listened to the words with intense focus, searching for familiarity. Their demeanor was casual despite the situation. The second man had taken off his wings too. They wouldn’t have fit into this cramped cabin, anyways. He rubbed the back of his neck, and turned to look at you. The muscles in your body stiffened. He took a step toward the bed and crouched.

Holding his hand to his chest he spoke. You stared at him. ‘Cassian’, he repeated gently, patting himself. His name? You looked between them, the other man stood back with his arms crossed. This must be some ploy to try and gain your trust. The man before you hit the other and gestured toward you. He rolled his eyes, stating his name. You repeated it and his eyes shot to yours.

The man before you nodded with a kind expression and gestured to you encouragingly. You took a breath. If you played along, played nice, maybe you could persuade them to let you go. Maybe this was some big misunderstanding, you let yourself hope.

“Calida,” you stated quietly.

‘Calida,’ he repeated, standing. He spoke a quick word to the scarred man before turning back through the doorway. He hesitated, nodding to you once more before disappearing and shutting the door tightly behind him.

That’s it?

Where was he going? Were they letting you go? You tried to stand but your captor moved before the door. It was useless trying to argue with him. You were a prisoner. You sat back, staring at the door, at the light peering in through the curling wood, visualizing your escape over and over in your mind. A bird chirped, pulling you from your angry haze. Light poured through the small windows, illuminating specks of dust. You watched despondently as they floated freely around you.

…

You weren’t sure how much time had passed. You’d been given water and more soup. It had been simmering over the fire and tasted even richer than it had the night before. The man left the cabin, taking guard just outside as you relieved yourself in the tiny bathing area covered only by a thin sheet. You scoured the place for a weapon before he returned, but cursed when you found nothing. He must have taken the knife he’d used for dinner. He came back in as you were reaching for the small bag near the armchair and were met with a scowl.

Perhaps your body had run out of anxiety, or perhaps your stillness had fooled it into peace as you sat, legs crossed, watching through the small window as the day passed. As birds and small animals roamed and sang through the forest, and the light filtered through the trees. You heard movement outside just as the door swung open.

The man with the violet eyes entered, his companion, Cassian, just behind him. No sign of the woman. “Calida,” he spoke, tilting his head toward you. You held your legs in a failed attempt at comfort and prepared for their next move. He reached out and set a small object on the stool next to you. A ring. You looked at him confused, but he only gestured to it.

You hesitantly reached for the ring, holding it in your palm. It was a gold signet with three deep green stones in the center. Dull metal and shallow scratches showed its age. They watched you silently, expectantly, so you slid the ring on your hand, finding its place on your pointer finger. You twirled it with your thumb.

“Now what,” you spat.

”Now, we find out if this was worth the hassle,” the violet-eyed man spoke, his voice clear and familiar. Your eyes went wide.

”Seeing as to how it went last time, I’m going to have to rely on your candor,” he continued. Your mind ran wild, a million questions on your tongue. ”How did you find yourself in these woods?”

”These woods?” You questioned through the shock.

He raised a brow.

“I… I’m camping near the lake with a group. I went for a run and… got lost. They’ll be looking for me,” you threatened.

“You’re not a human spy sent from Autumn with a mind full of riddles to throw me off of your trail?”

“I… what?”

He squinted at you, assessing as he’d done before.

“These are public lands."

“These are Night Court lands.”

Night Court? Reservation land was miles East from where you camped, and none of them were called the Night Court; there was no private land.

“You can’t keep me here, this is kidnapping—“

“These woods aren’t safe for you,” Cassian interjected, his voice even.

“I ran three miles without trouble, I can make it back just fine,” you argued, your heart in your throat. “So what, you think you’re locking me away for my own safety?” You mocked.

“Yes,” the man with the violet eyes began, “we are. You are not supposed to be here, and the more you can tell us, the better the chance we have at returning you.”

Returning you? Nothing made sense.

“How can you understand me?”

“Magic,” a sly smile grew on his face. You shook your head, your lips pressed in a thin line. This wasn’t a game, but he certainly treated it like one.

“When you were running, what did you see? Anything strange or unfamiliar?”

“You mean, besides the men with wings?”

“Yes, besides that.” He crossed his arms.

You took a breath, thinking back to the forest, to the lake disappearing, to hitting your head. “I turned to avoid a boulder and ran into a tree. When I looked up, the lake was just… gone. I thought I was concussed,” you admitted reluctantly.

He sighed. “I needed to make sure you weren’t a threat. Clearly, you know nothing,” he sauntered over, settling into the armchair and crossing his legs. “Although… what I saw in the woods, it was intriguing. Where are you from Calida?”

“Washington,” you spat.

He tapped the armrest with his finger, assessing you.

“There have been reports of strange happenings in these woods. Herds gone missing only to reappear out of thin air. It’s not unheard of, though there hasn’t been a tear in…” he pondered, “thousands of years. Long before most of our family walked these lands. At least not that we know of. This one seems to be stuck open, for now, though we’re having trouble locating it.”

You blinked. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Would you believe me if I told you the truth?”

Cassian and the other man watched your conversation silently. You looked for any sign of humor or mischief on their face, but they were unnaturally stoic.

“Tell me then, and I’ll decide for myself.”

“Very well,” He clasped his hands with a casual grace that made you want to roll your eyes. “You must have slipped through a tear, or a door between worlds, because you, Calida, are not where you believe yourself to be. I attempted to read your mind in the forest, and saw nothing familiar. We don’t know where you slipped through. You’re in Prythian, a land of humans, like yourself, as well as Fae and magic,” he pointed to your ring, “the reason we can understand one another.”

You stared at him in disbelief.

“The humans here look and smell like you, but you are wholly different. A glimpse into an unfamiliar world.”

You sat still, looking at the men in the room, deciding drugs must be involved. Your mind pulled you back to the scarred man, Azriel. He watched you, and you could’ve sworn pity lined his eyes.

“I see…” you started, “I appreciate your protection and hospitality, but I’m sure I can find my way back.” You spoke calmly, afraid of their reaction.

A deep laugh filled the cabin as the violet eyed man stood.

“Very well, we’ll see you on your way.” He reached into a small bag and set your belongings down beside you.

“Rhys-” Azriel began, but the man held up a gentle hand to silence him.

He nodded toward the door, and Cassian opened it apprehensively. They seemed to share a wordless communication. You grabbed your things before they could change their mind. Azriel’s worried eyes followed you through the door. The cool forest air bit at your lungs, a flutter of hope filling your chest. The men behind you made no attempt to grab you. You didn’t dare look back; your feet skipping below you as you began to run through the thick trees. Moments passed and the hope sang louder in your ears as you blindly headed West, your eyes searching wildly for something familiar as your feet skipped across the forest floor.

After some time you came to a stop, leaning on a large rough tree while you caught your breath. You heard nothing over your loud breathing. Eventually it slowed and you realized you heard nothing, no birds sang, no creatures skittered. It was silent. Hairs stood on the back of your neck. Your eyes scanned the forest. There, in the distance, something caught your eye. You were flooded with a sense of familiar dread. You squinted, afraid to move, to breathe. You leaned ever so closer.

As if day was marrying night, a thick, dark swirl of shadow appeared before you. Along with Azriel. Your scream was muffled by his hand as he grabbed your arm with his other. He hushed you and you froze. His head snapped to the right, scanning the trees. You felt your breath in his hand.

”Shit,” he breathed. Before you could blink a darkness washed over you. It swallowed you whole, its gentle claws pulling at your ankles and combing through your hair. What kept you in place was not gravity, but Azriel as he held you to his chest. And just as the darkness had appeared, in a shadow, it had vanished before the light. The cabin filled your vision and you fell promptly to the soft ground, the world around you swirling.

”What was it?” Cassian questioned.

”Naga,” Rhysand spat.

You propped yourself on your elbows, your mouth hanging open, brows furrowed. You looked at the cabin, shocked. Suddenly, a swirl of shadow appeared and dissipated just as quickly as before, and a woman, the woman from the woods, stepped through. Definitely a concussion.

”Let’s go,” Azriel pulled his dagger from his leg, nodding to Cassian. Wings, the giant membranous wings appeared on their back. This time, they moved as gracefully as the rest of them. Your breath caught in your throat. Your neck fell back as the men leapt up twenty feet in the air, their wings beating the wild grasses flat as they ascended. A cry left escaped your lips. You heard voices in the distance; you stared unblinking at the bright sky.

”You said yourself she’s harmless.”

”I said she’s not a threat. We’ll keep searching. Azriel will watch-“

”You want to keep them cooped up in that cabin? They’ll be at each other's throats. These woods aren’t safe,” She gestured toward the forest.

”The cabin is warded. We can find a spot for her elsewhere-“

“There is a spot. The River House.”

”Feyre, we’re not opening our home to her. There’s too much unknown.”

"Just for a day, Rhys. She’s human," she emphasized.

"Human, yes, but from a foreign world."

The woman stilled and they stood looking at each other for a long while.

“You knew when you read her mind she wasn’t dangerous. She’ll be my responsibility. Madja will look over her again,” she held a hand up to stop him from arguing. ”That was me Rhys, this could have been me.”

It was decided. The woman made her way to you and knelt.

"Don’t be scared," she began, “but this may be uncomfortable.” She grabbed your arm and again you were swept up in rolling darkness.

…

“I was asleep for a day and a half?” You questioned in disbelief, eyes vacantly set on the wall before you.

The woman, Feyre as she’d told you, nodded, sighing. She was much better at calming your nerves than her husband had been. She’d expressed sympathy for not being there when you woke, something about dealing with a disgruntled citizen. She’d also apologized for Rhysand’s hostility. ‘You look similar to the people we have… political disagreements with,’ she’d said. ‘People, or “fae?”’ You’d questioned, but she’d just given you that same careful smile.

When Feyre had brought you to the house you’d vomited on the floor, a reaction from what felt like being thrown a thousand feet in the air. Winnowing, she’d called it. You’d laid your cheek on the cool dark tile, steadying your breath. An older woman with a cautious face had appeared. She kept her distance as she moved her arms above you in slow circles. With a simple nod, she was off. Feyre seemed relieved by this and slowly guided you up the stairs and down the hall.

You'd since decided that you died in the woods, or were clinging to life somewhere having fever-induced dreams. Now you sat on a bed in the grandest room you’d ever seen, unsure of how you’d imagined something like this. Swirls of gold decorated the walls, the wallpaper a faded, clear night sky. Painted portraits and landscapes filled the room. They glowed, the color so rich you swore you could step into the frame. The sheer pale curtains stretched high above the windows, breathing in and out with the uncertain breeze.

Feyre had confirmed Rhys’s story. Prythian, Fae, the tear between worlds. You half-absorbed it, overwhelmed to the point of numbness. She handed you a small vile that the older woman had left, and you sniffed it suspiciously. ‘It’ll help with the nausea and the headache. I took it all the time when I was pregnant,’ she’d said. You took a sip and puckered. It tasted like lemon thyme.

“So those men can fly.”

She chuckled, setting a pair of shoes down by the mirror and muttering something about the males being dramatic. “They can. So can Rhys and I, but we can conjure them. We had a glamour-” she paused, “we hid their wings with magic so you’d be less afraid.”

Less afraid. You scoffed. Thinking back to the way Azriel had walked about the space so carefully, it was clear now. Maybe you hadn’t seen his wings because you didn’t want to.

“That man,” you interrupted the silence, watching as Feyre sorted through a box of clothing she’d brought to the room. “Azriel,” you continued, picking at the skin around your nails, “what happened to him?”

She stilled. “I’m not sure that’s my story to tell.” She folded a gray sweater, and walked to the wardrobe, setting the pile of clothing inside. “As scary as these past days have been for you, there’s much worse beyond these walls. As long as you’re here, until we can get you back to your family, you’re safe.”

You weren’t sure why, but again you felt a peace settle into your chest with her words. You read her sincerity. She spoke with a sureness that would ease any anxious mind. You refused to think about what else laid beyond these walls. Your imagination had never been kind to you.

“Rhysand was afraid to bring me here,” you responded.

She nodded, folding her arms. “He’s protective of our family, our son. So am I.” She tilted her head. “But, I saw into your mind through his, you’re not dangerous…” She continued after a pause, “I was lost once. And I was lucky enough to have someone to help guide me back.”

You hummed in response. ‘Saw into your mind.’

“Dinner is at sunset, but until then, rest. If you don’t want to join us you’re more than welcome to have dinner in your room.”

You nodded in thanks, as she reached the bedroom door.

“There’s a bath waiting for you, whenever you’re ready.” she gestured toward the arched doorway that led to the bathing room. “Drink the rest of that vile,” she stated pointedly. The door shut softly behind her and you fell back, arms spread behind you. Your mind twisted around her words.

You grabbed your phone; dead. With a huff you plugged it into your charger and prayed.

…

The bath water was still steaming hours later. You’d slept for a while, the adrenaline finally retreated, leaving you a heap of heavy limbs. The knot in your stomach loosened only slightly as you stepped in. You let your head fall back onto the cool porcelain as the hot water licked your tense body. You sat, watching the sun sink slowly beyond the windowsill. You scrubbed your body and inspected your hand. Flexing your fingers, you realized the scratch was gone. A dream, you thought to yourself. You stepped out, combing your lavender-scented hair.

The clothing Feyre brought was far nicer than most of what you owned. It looked well crafted, handmade. The brown knitted cardigan fell gently over your cream silk pants that you’d slipped on, along with a white t-shirt. Everything was familiar, but not. Every detail of the clothing was slightly different than you were accustomed to. You stood, fidgeting with the ring on your finger as you stood frozen in the mirror. The hairs around your face curled as they began to dry.

Down the stairs and to the left was the dining room, you’d been told. With a breath you stepped out, your silk slippers patting gently on the tiled floor. The grand hallway was barely illuminated. Sconces lined the walls, their warm flickering glow mixed with the cool light that shone through the windows. Flickering shadows danced on the giant paintings that filled the hall; your eyes landed on familiar wings and you shuddered. With each step down your anxiety heightened. Even asleep you couldn’t escape it.

Conversation filtered through the house, growing clearer with every step. You hesitated, heart beating heavily. The voices hushed. Every gaze turned toward you inquisitively as you stepped into view. Some faces recognizable, some not. A woman with long golden hair looked over you. A dark-haired woman at her side leaned over her elbow curiously, eyes squinted. A handsome man with dark skin and pure white hair whispered into her ear. Opposite them, a woman who looked remarkably similar to Feyre sat beside Cassian. You met Rhysand’s gaze as he sat at the end of the long dining table, Feyre by his side. She stood, coming to walk you to the opposite end near Azriel. You felt their burning gazes as you stiffly took your seat.

For a moment, there was silence. You glanced around, in awe of the people before you. At the towering wings. Their unnatural beauty. That’s when you spotted their ears, Feyre’s hair had covered them before. Delicate, pointed ears. You glanced around, realizing they all had them. All except Azriel and Cassian.

“Sorry if we scared you, kid,” Cassian interrupted the silence, taking a swig of his drink with a mischievous grin.

“Calida, you’ve met Cassian, the Commander of our Armies,” Rhysand began. “Azriel, our Spymaster, as well as High Lady of the Night Court, Feyre. These are her sisters Elain and Nesta.”

Elaine, sitting closest to you, offered you a small smile, while Nesta only stared.

“Morrigan, my cousin,” he pointed to the golden-haired woman to your left, “Amren my Second-in-Command, and our friend Varian.”

“Call me Mor,” She replied, before turning to Rhys. “What’s with the formalities? And why did I just get ‘cousin’?”

“Third-in-Command, Queen of Velaris, take your pick,” Rhys responded smoothly, sipping his wine.

“If she's the Queen, what does that make you?” You asked, eyes set on the man across the table.

“High Lord of the Night Court, and more powerful than most everyone at this table,” he responded coolly.

“Most?” you questioned.

“Most,” Feyre responded, a smile playing on her lips.

Cassian interrupted, “See Nes, you two will get along great.” The woman at his side chuckled. The atmosphere was tense. You weren’t helping.

The focus turned to dinner. The scent of roasted meat and vegetables filled the air. You all loaded your plates and ate in near silence. It tasted so real. So many questions racked your mind, too many. You weren’t sure how to organize them, so you observed. For a ‘foreign world’, there was a lot of familiarity. Their mannerisms, the food. You stabbed a carrot with your fork. Light conversation skittered through the room. You felt Azriel’s eyes on you while you ate, as if he was waiting for you to pounce. You grabbed a slice of dark bread. Everyone seemed unsure of what to do with you.

“Calida.”

You looked up, startled. Elain offered you a smile. “That’s a beautiful name.” You felt lingering glances.

“Thank you,” you responded windlessly, “It’s Irish.”

“Is that where you’re from?” She questioned.

“My great-grandfather immigrated from Ireland to America,” you responded. “I grew up in Washington, near the city of Seattle.” You knew this meant nothing to them, but she nodded anyway.

“And what do you fill your time with?” She inquired.

“I’m a student,” you began, “or was. I studied English. Books and authors.”

“What kind of books?” Nesta chimed in.

You looked at her in surprise. “A little of everything. Classic literature, poetry, non-fiction.”

She hummed in response, tilting her head and reaching for her glass.

Elain asked about your family and friends. You told them about Jack, Annie, and Brooke. A little about your parents. Sometimes they looked at you like you’d said something totally foreign. You were sure you had.

“How do you know each other?” you questioned. Cassian and Azriel looked like they could be related. They had the same large frame and dark hair like Rhysand.

“Cassion, Azriel, Mor, and I grew up together,” Rhysand answered, leaning back in his chair. You glanced at Azriel beside you, but he remained uninterested in conversation.

“My story is long and complicated. I was born human, and eventually found myself here,” Feyre added.

“Born human?”

“Nesta and I were, too,” Elain emphasized.

“How did you–”

“It’s a long story,” Nesta repeated, shutting you down.

This time, it was the dark-haired woman, Amren, who spoke. “I come from a different place, just like you, girl.” She set her glass down, crossing her arms on the table. Her stare felt cold. “About five-thousand years ago I crossed over from a different world. It seems we have that in common.”

“Five thousand years?” You scoffed.

“Yes.”

Your mind flew back to Rhysand’s comment at the cabin. You looked around the room for an answer, a rebuttal.

“Amren’s ancient. I’m 537,” Cassian spoke, stretching his arm behind his head with a yawn.

“I’m twenty-three,” Elain offered. You turned to her with a smile, a small laugh bubbling in your chest at the ridiculousness of it all. You decided you liked Elain. She reminded you of Annie.

A thought crossed your mind, and you turned to Rhysand. “Why did you ask me if I was from Autumn? What does that mean?”

You felt Azriel’s gaze slip.

“It was mostly a joke. Your hair is red like the family from Autumn Court, but I knew you were human. Nevertheless, I wanted to see your reaction.”

“Autumn Court? There’s another court?” You questioned.

Before he could answer, the scrape of Azriel’s chair pierced the air as he pushed himself further from the table, his wings flaring slightly behind him.

“We have an early morning.” He stated, focus turning to Rhysand.

Rhysand ignored his interruption. “There are several courts. You don’t need to worry yourself. Tomorrow morning you’ll go back to the forest, search for the tear, and this will all be behind you.”

“Alone?”

“No. Azriel and Amren will accompany you. She may be able to spot the tear.”

May. Your mind and body grew heavy. You felt yourself falling deeper into the abyss of your mind. You reached out to grab the bottle of dark liquid closest to you. Azriel stole it from your hands.

“That’s not a good idea,” he stated, peering at you with dark eyes.

“I’m old enough to drink.”

“And how old would that be?”

“Twenty-two,” you rebutted. He scoffed, shaking his head. You looked at his hand that rested before you. A fresh cut sliced along the back of it.

“It's not real,” you whispered to him, staring into his eyes intently. They almost looked brown in the dim light. He furrowed his brows.

“A small glass is fine, Az,” Feyre offered.

He sighed, sliding it over. You poured yourself a glass as he settled back into his seat. You watched his wings as they moved. The candlelight shone through ever so slightly, illuminating dark veins. You stared, amazed as you sipped the wine. It was tart, tasting like cherry or currant. It made your head buzz.

“So you read minds,” you gestured to Rhysand and Feyre.

He smiled. “Yes. But I wasn’t very successful reading yours, what with you fainting and all.”

You nodded, thankful for the absence of the ache in the back of your head. “What did you see?”

He leaned forward, resting his chin on his fist.

“Faces, feelings; some things familiar, some not.”

You hummed in response, swirling your glass on the table.

“You don’t seem upset that I was in your head,” he inquired.

You shook yours. “It reminds me I’m not making it all up.”

Taglist: @cleverzonkwombatsludge @latinxbipride @inkedinshadows @lilah-asteria @rcarbo1

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfiction #acotar #acotar x reader #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #rhysand acotar #acotar fandom #azriel series #rhysand is a baddie #pro nesta #before the light #elain archeron #cassian

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domoz · 2 months ago

Text

CW for suffocation (of someone else)

Getting an Uchiha trapped in a genjutsu is as difficult as it sounds.

Touka has learned that there's no point in changing what see ages ago. She's good enough that they won't notice the difference without a sharingan, but the moment it's on they'll break it. If they're on edge -- and Izuna Uchiha certainly is -- they'll turn it on for anything. His eyes turned red thirty minutes ago, when some animal made enough noise to startle him and haven't been off since.

So Touka hasn't put anything in his path that might tip him off. Her genjutsu is all subtle -- her own sounds muffled as she trails him though the autumn woods and one of the mildest disorientation genjutsus that exist. It's not enough to make him off balance, but just enough to have him listing to one side as he walks. On top of that, if she's laid it right, he should only think it's been five minutes instead of the half an hour it's taken for her to lead him away from the rest of his squad.

He clearly knows that something is wrong by now, recognizes that he's been turned around but can't quite seem to pinpoint how. He won't take more than a few steps now before he pauses to look around. Forward progress has slowed to a crawl, Izuna isn't getting any further away from backup, and sooner or later they're going to come looking for him -- if he doesn't realize that someone is trying to catch him first.

Touka had more-or-less assigned herself this mission after her last spar with Tobirama. She has no support here, and not much confidence that she can win a one-on-one fight. It's hard work to shave a win off of Tobirama on the best of days, and he usually doesn't try to actually kill her.

She pushes all of the air out of her lungs with a silent whoosh, hands coming up to form the signs, slow and precise, of one of her own techniques.

It's a funny thing, breathing. Automatic until you think about it, and then it's all you can focus on. In a middle of a stressful situation, it's common to not realize that you've stopped. The darkness that creeps into the edge of your vision is slow, and without the feeling of discomfort, it's almost too easy to forget that you've stopped doing it.

If Izuna realizes something has happened he'll be onto her for certain, but he's not breathing now.

Twenty seconds. Thirty. Sixty. His movements start to slow, his blinking goes sluggish, and red eyes fade to black. Lack of air impairs judgement too, but she can't trust that he won't realize something is wrong at any moment.

Sweat beads at Touka's brow. She doesn't use this technique often, hasn't had the chance to practice and refine it to a more workable chakra cost. Her own hands tremble as she holds the threads of all the genjutsu she's woven. One more.

Touka has never heard of an Uchiha being fooled by a henge of one of their own clanmates before, but she risks it anyways. Any good genjutsu master spends time observing their enemies, but there's one Uchiha she has more material on than the others, and her only stroke of luck in this whole endeavor is that he was among the group she'd lured Izuna away from.

Hikaku Uchiha's skin feels tight on her, but with she shakes it off with the ease of practice, rolls her shoulders, and steps out from behind the cover of her tree. Izuna doesn't react to the sound of her steps right away -- a good sign.

"Izuna-sama." She's short of breath herself, when her voice comes out as Hikaku's it sounds like he's been running, "We've been looking all over for you. Why are you out here?"

"I was, uh… Patrol…?" His eyebrows furrow as he uses up the last of his air.

"Are you alright?" It's easy enough to feign concern, and Izuna only blinks in confusion when she puts her hands on his shoulders.

He only puts up a token resistance as she kicks his legs out from under him and pushes him face down in the dirt. The shock of it breaks all of her genjutsu at once, and she lets the henge drop for good measure, all focus now on getting his arms and legs tied. He wheezes underneath her, not able to get the full breath she's sure he desperately wants with her full weight between his shoulders.

Wrists are tied, then elbows, ankles then knees. She cuts a long bandage into strips and covers his eyes and mouth, too. Only once she has the Uchiha properly hogtied does she roll him over and start removing weapons

He's still taking heaving breaths, around the gag. He twitches when she reaches out to pat one cheek.

"Hey, me catching you here is better than the other thing was going to happen to you. We're all lucky I pulled this off, really."

Izuna shakes his head as violently as her ties will allow. He doesn't get it, probably wouldn't believe her even if she told him Tobirama has finally found his way to beat the sharingan, but that's fine. If they play their cards right, he'll never have to know at all.

#oops! no writing tag #not what i meant to write but its what my brain wanted to write so here u go #im off that touka battlegirl mindset shes a genjutsu master shes all abt that subltly 2 me #if i ever get around to writing this one in full i want you all to know. izuna gets apendicitis right after this #Naruto blog for Naruto things

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novasdarling · 2 years ago

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Ok this will probably sound like a weird request, but maybe Mahito as some type of dark fey/fairy that likes to deceive and hurt humans, and he ends up capturing a very naive reader? Sorry if it's too much specific, either way I just love how you write him

It doesn't sound weird at all! I sorta dialled it down(I kept rewriting this ask and idky), so I just kinda leaned in more with forest monster being able to handle this one human(reader) and hating others.

Though I will say your request now makes me wanna write for other characters and him as fairy/elves creatures... Hmmm

Forest Creature

TW: Monster. Kidnapping, Drugging(with a plant), Female Reader.

The woods could get dark and dangerous when you ventured too far. Predators, unclear paths, the threats you were cautioned about growing up. The warning words of your parents vanished as you embarked further. It would be fine, it always was. You always tended to make your way back home, no matter how far you went. Coming back with a full basket of berries, roots, and herbs. After the first few times, people would question your ability less and less when they saw you emerge from the woods with a full basket. Many assumed you just had an innate skill for foraging and navigating the woods. It was best to let them think that, rather than revealing the truth. That it wasn't you, that you had no real skills in the woods. Rather it was all thanks to Mahito. A strange man-creature who seemed to take pity on you the day when you were lost in the woods all those weeks ago.

Mahito was a tall slender man. Taller than any man you had ever met. Most of the time you found him leaning towards you when you spoke. Bending down so his face was now aligned with yours. He made you feel so small, yet by the looks of him. It appeared you had more weight to yourself than him. So tall yet so slim. One of the features that captured your attention during the first encounter. There was no helping the stares when you first spotted him. He seemed so terrifying, yet at the same time. You couldn't peel your eyes away. You watched him move around the trees. Picking plants and mushrooms. Stuffing his pockets filled with various plants and twigs.

Mahito's clothes were another peculiar part of him. They were none you had seen. Or at least, none that were styled properly. Sometimes his clothes appeared more human-like, but the first time you met him. His clothes looked made out of natural material. Moss detailed his pants and shirt. Climbing into his hair. You were sure if he stood still enough, he would blend in with some of the plants and trees around him.

He seemed so awkward that day, bending under branches. Letting his arms reach further than they should have. It was marvelling and uneasy watching him. Especially when the sun had peaked through the treetops. Shining down on the grass and him. That was when you noticed his skin. It wasn't any colour you had seen on a living being before. Rather it reminded you of the bodies of those who died from the great sickness years ago. You were just a child, but those images were burnt into your mind. The way the bodies lay in the mass grave. Too many dying to hold individual funerals. Their bodies lay cold and pale in the grave. Some in makeshift coffins, others loose in the ground. Some had died so long ago their skin had turned a cold pale grey and began peeling. While others had only been dead a few hours. Still appearing to have some life to them. Mahito looked like a cross between the two. Skin pale with a hint of grey, but still flushed and holding life. It appeared like he was toying with the line between life and death.

That day, he had caught you staring behind a tree. Lurking towards you before you figured out he knew you were there. Fear had coursed through your veins when he stared at you, hastily moving towards you. Your feet wouldn't run, but then what use would that be. He was so fast and his limbs were longer than yours. He would have no problem with retrieving you. However, when he did. He didn't harm you, he didn't curse you. No, he was kind and sweet in such an unnatural way, but it was still welcomed. Since then, you had met him almost every day to gather alongside him. He was your trick for foraging. Your walking, talking being of knowledge.

Today was like the others. Making your way through the dark woods. Trying to get to your usual meeting spot. It was the same location you had met him all that time ago. A nice area with plenty of plants to search through. Following the path, Mahito had shown you, avoiding every raised root or rock. It was a miracle that the first few times you went this way, you hadn't gotten seriously hurt. Though as you made your way through, you couldn't help, but get what you had heard earlier out of your head. Your neighbours had warned you today before you left. Not the usual warning of being careful in the woods. No, this was more. They had warned you about the missing people from other villages who shared the same woods. It would seem there had been a few people who had gone missing in the last few months. News only reaching your home now. You would need to warn Mahito about it. Fearing some bear or wolf had gone hungry and was now hunting anything it could find.

It wasn't long until you arrived, only to already see Mahito already there, sitting on a rock. Gazing at something in his hand. He always had some odd trinkets to show and give you. Some had been hair pins, and bracelets, while others you had never seen before. Beautiful little novelties Mahito would show and tell you about. Though always vague about how he had gotten it. Unclear on how he had come to collect some human items.

"Mahito" You waved as you walked towards him.

Mahito looked up, giving you a toothy smile as he watched you walk toward him. Had his teeth always been so, pointed? Sometimes you felt like no matter how many times you looked at him, there would always be something new.

"You're back?" He had stood up, pocketing what was in his hands and making his way to you. "Good, it's been too long."

Mahito had wrapped his arms around you. Bending himself over you in order to pull you close. Wrapping you completely in his embrace. He had to bend over almost completely in order to embrace. Though, he always did more than needed. Always engulfed you more than what was required for a hug from friends. It oddly felt more intimate than you cared for, but then again. He clearly wasn't fully human, chalking it up to him not knowing better.

"I missed you, my dear." He was pushing his face into your hair. Inhaling your scent.

"Hmmm, yeah? I missed you too." You let out an awkward laugh, trying to push him off of you to no avail. "Can we sit? I need to tell you something?"

Mahito let go reluctantly. Though his hand never left your body as he brought you to a log nearby. Taking a seat, only for him to pull you close down beside him. The way Mahito looked at you always made you anxious in some bizarre way. It was filled with an intensity like he was trying to see every thought you had with just a look. Yet, there was also another side to it. Curiosity, such intrigue with every word you said. With every move you made. It seemed like he wanted nothing more than to watch it all. You wouldn't admit it, but it was nice to be admired. Even if it was from him.

"Mahito, my family and friends are becoming nervous about me entering the woods now." Mahito narrowed his eyes at you, already knowing he wouldn't like where this was going. "You see, umm, there have been some people going missing in neighbouring villages."

You missed the change in Mahito's expression as you rambled on. Trying to explain your and other's concern. How you would need to limit your trips to him, or if there were more reports in the next few weeks. Perhaps you would need to stop completely for a while.

"There is nothing to fear." Mahito sounded so confident. "No one from your village has been hurt or has gone, right?" You nodded. "Then there's no worry. You are safe with me."

Staring at Mahito, knowing there was no arguing with him. He was always set in his ways. Hopefully, he would understand the severity of the reports. Understand that you aren't like him. You are at the mercy of the woods and every being living within it. A reality you never thought he would understand, but he did. He truly grasped your vulnerability, but would never let you know.

Mahito dropped the topic. Instead, leading you through the day's actions, showing you new plants he had found, and telling you their uses. Helping you fill your bag with food and herbs for medication. You marvelled at his ability. Looking at him like he was a god among men. A look he loved and would do anything to gain and keep.

Hours had passed. The sky was beginning to get darker. Indicating you would need to get home before you couldn't see your way anymore. Parting with Mahito was a difficult process. He would drag out the goodbye, insisting there was still more to collect and look for. It was better to start before you actually needed to go.

"Mahito, it's getting dark."

"Oh," Mahito looked at the sky. "You're right."

This was strange. Any other time when you mentioned the sky or the nearing of darkness. He would always insist you were wrong, that there was more. More time or more things to do, yet here he was. Agreeing with you for the first time.

"Before you go. Here."

Mahito opened your palm, placing something in it before closing your hand. Wrapping both of his around yours. Opening your hand, taking a look at what he had given you. It was a plant of some sort. A green stem connected to a small pale blue flower. The shapes of the petals were different. You'd never seen a flower like this before. They appeared pointed at the end before twirling in on themselves. It was extremely beautiful. Before you could ask anything about it, Mahito spoke.

"Eat it."

"What?"

"Eat it. Eat it."

Mahito lifted your hand with the flower to your mouth for you. There was no real-time or a chance to not do as he wanted. The flower was shoved in your mouth. For a moment you stood like that. His hand wrapped around your wrist. Flower in your mouth, simply sitting on your tongue. Unsure of what to do. Did he really want you to eat it?

"Chew and swallow."

It looked like he really did.

For a moment you just stared. The longer Mahito looked at you, the more you were convinced to follow his orders. You knew it would be best to just do as he says. It was most likely one of his herbs that would help you stay healthy during illness season. He tended to know when an illness would strike before anyone in your village did. Taking in your assumption, you chewed and swallowed the flower.

"Good girl." Mahito brushed his knuckles against your cheek.

You questioned what it was. Wondering if you were right. However, you weren't met with an answer. Not a real one, not one you wanted. Rather, he just gazed at you. Smiling down at you while his touch didn't leave. Finally, words left his lips.

"It's something from where I'm from. Something that makes you belong."

Before you could question him, your head felt heavy. It felt like you weren't able to hold it up anymore. It was quick and sudden. You weren't prepared for it.

"Ma-Mahito, I-I"

"What is it? You don't look so well."

You were so concentrated on staying upright that you missed the look on his face. The way he smiled, it wasn't filled with softness like it usually was with you. No, it was loaded with malice and delight now. Like he was the happiest he had ever been with you. Delighted by your willingness, by the way you trusted him so. How you simply did what he said with little hesitation. It was a breath of fresh air. Humans could be so stubborn and cruel, but you weren't. You were something else, something different. Not like those other humans who had crossed his path. They had been cruel, taking from the earth without caring, without giving back. They deserved what occurred to them. It was a shame his work was posing a threat of keeping you away from him, but not anymore. No, you were his.

As you began to give into the plant, falling into his arms. Shutting your eyes, it was easier than trying to stay awake, than staying upright. Your trust in this strange creature would be your end. It would be how you become the first in your village to go missing. To fall victim to the woods. However, unlike the rest. You would survive. After all, if he thought you were like the rest, you would have been dead long before you saw him that day. He had shown and given you so much. This would your way of saying thank you. Of giving back and he knows you'd agree with it when you wake later. After all, he had taught you the importance of giving. Of making sure you replace what you take. You had taken him, made him love you. Now, he was taking you. His dear little human.

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monstersdownthepath · 3 months ago

Text

Homebrew Horror: Kooks

(Art from The Book of Unremitting Horror, pg. 50)

It always begins within the first few days of summer. An open window facing the wilderness, letting in the fresh breeze and the warm air of a new season. That's when the first whisper will start, flowing in on the wind to call to children who are lonely, bored, or who are looking for any reason to leave their home. The words crook into a beckoning finger, luring the child from the safety of home and into the woods, or the hills, or the pond, or whatever natural environs are present to link the world of man to the world of Fey.

The child is not in danger, not when they first meet the Kooks. Disguised by a radiant haze of sweet summer days and tasty treats, the Kooks appear as cherubic children to their chosen targets, bearing gifts of delicious fruit, amazing pastries, and all the candy they could possibly eat. A stranger in the woods handing out candy would certainly raise alarm in most societies, but a child coming home and talking excitedly of other kids inviting them to play and have a picnic? No, it would take a strict and suspicious parent indeed to suspect something is wrong. Most parents may simply believe that their children have made new friends, even if these new friends do seem a little kooky.

It is strange how these new friends never come visit the child at their home, though. It's always the child going to visit them, far out of sight or supervision of any adult, and these friends never, ever seem to be around when an adult (or even an older sibling) comes to investigate. The Kooks are careful when choosing their targets to avoid victims with overly suspicious relatives, but sometimes mistakes happen. That's when things tend to get messy, as anyone above the threshold of being a teenager can see a Kook for what it really is, but the Kooks try to avoid such messes whenever possible. It's easier to just find new prey than to risk the whole of the hive cleaning up a stupid mistake.

The targets of the Kooks are drained slowly, becoming gradually paler and sickly even though they seem completely happy and carefree when outside. Such children grow listless when indoors and shrink away from most normal stimulus, including foods they once enjoyed, not because they dislike it, per se, but because being outside with their new friends is just so much better. The affected children spend less and less time indoors, leaving to play with their new friends for longer and longer stretches of the day... until one day they simply never come back.

They're not dead, mind. No, far from it! In fact, they need not fear death, or sickness, or starvation ever again. They join hands with their kooky friends, smiling so widely that their face can barely contain the grin, and become kooky themselves, disappearing from the world and joining the rest of their new family in the Sweet Summer Days.

Kooks are not natural creatures, but creations of a powerful and bizarre fey entity which they collectively refer to as the Gummy Tree, which sits perfectly in the center of a miles-wide stretch of rolling hills, beautiful woods, and babbling brooks known as the Sweet Summer Days, a wonderland realm that Kooks can enter and exit at will.

The massive, twisting fey aberration at the center towers over a hundred feet into the air, its branches lacking leaves but instead growing thin, ropy extrusions equal parts cotton candy and true cotton, the Kooks making liberal use of it as both food and crafting material. Massive flowers along the branches and colorful knots among the roots surround pods of pastries, cakes, and other desserts which slowly but persistently regrow their supplies, while fruits, candies, and fruit-shaped candies grow liberally from the branches, falling like rain throughout the day to the waiting populace below. Fresh water is always available from the brooks and ponds, but taps installed along the Gummy Tree run freely with a sweet, sticky, fizzy drink that makes Kooks burp amusingly and always tastes different from the last cup.

The trunk of the Gummy Tree is decorated with and surrounded by artwork all made by the Kooks, which provides them with the candybark and candywood they need to make whatever toys they desire and whatever homes they see fit for themselves, should they not be happy frolicking through the Sweet Summer Days and require some alone time. Should one somehow draw close enough to the Gummy Tree to brush aside the artwork and the outer layer of candybark, they would see that the whorls on the startlingly gory inner wood form ghoulish, grinning faces much like those of the Kooks themselves, faces which are very much alive and very much animate, and which violently dislike being seen by anything but its children.

The Gummy Tree is a being with ambitions of becoming a being equivalent in power to an Eldest, but its childish mind gives it a very twisted understanding of what it means to be an Eldest. It believes that an 'Eldest' must be old, and to be old you must "have a lot of years behind you." Thus, it sends its Kooks out to gather years, stealing them from mortal children that have years to spare, which serves the dual purpose of making more Kooks. Every time a mortal child is transformed into a Kook, all the years that they would have lived are drawn into the Gummy Tree, slowly but surely allowing it to amass the years it believes it requires to reach the ranks of the Eldest Fey.

The Gummy Tree itself has a limited understanding of how anything works, requiring the assistance of its own Big Kids for guidance, and as such most of the Archfey and the Eldest consider it an amusing curiosity rather than any form of threat or even a nuisance, as it and its Kooks generally keep to themselves... but its resolute belief in its mission and the unwavering, childish faith its Kooks have that it will succeed may yet grant it some form of power once it manages to somehow gather the millions of years it requires to consider itself an Eldest. It has a long, long while to go, but it's got all the Sweet Summer Days it needs, and plenty of Kooks to frolic among its branches besides to help pass the time.

------

Kook CR 4 Chaotic Neutral Small Fey Init +2; Senses low-light vision, scent; Perception +8 ------ Defenses ------ AC 13, touch 12, flat-footed 12, (+1 deflection, +1 natural, +1 size) HP 23 (5d6) Fort +1, Ref +6, Will +6 DR 3/Cold iron; Immune: Aging effects, disease, poison; Resist: Fire 5, Cold 5 ------ Offense ------ Speed: 30ft, Climb 10ft, Swim 10ft Melee: Improvised weapon +5 (1d3), bite +0 (1d4) Ranged: Gummy Ball +5 (1d2) Special Attacks: Essence Drain, Gummy Ball, Radiant Haze Spell-like Abilities (CL 5th; concentration +9) At-will: Prestidigitation, Dancing Lights 3/day: Whispering Winds 1/week: Fabricate ------ Statistics ----- Str 10, Dex 14, Con 10, Int 11, Wis 15, Cha 19 Base Atk +2; CMB +3; CMD 15 Feats: Catch Off-Guard, Throw Anything, Weapon Finesse Skills: Acrobatics +10, Bluff +12, Climb +13, Craft (any one) +5, Diplomacy +11, Escape Artist +8, Perception +8, Perform (Comedy) +9, Sleight of Hand +7, Stealth +11 Languages: Sylvan, Common, plus one language from its previous life SQ: Radiant Haze, Sugar Rush ------ Ecology ------ Environment: Forests, plains, hills, and lakes (Summer only) Organization: Solitary, pair, playdate (3~5), daycare (6~8 plus a Big Kid) Treasure: Incidental (keepsakes, toys, candy) ------ Special Abilities ------ Essence Drain (Su): Once per week, a Kook may drain the essence of a child it has spent a total of at least 8 hours interacting with within the last 7 days. This manifests as a simple, friendly pat, and causes the child to take 1 point of Charisma damage, which does not heal naturally unless the child has not had physical contact with a Kook for 7 continuous days. A child can only have their essence drained once per week even if there are multiple Kook's present, but a playdate of Kooks playing with the same child raises the damage to 1d4. Once a child has taken an amount of Charisma damage equal to their Charisma score, they are permanently and irreversibly transformed into a Kook and retain only scattered memories of their previous life.

Gummy Ball (Su): Kooks can summon or dismiss a translucent, rubbery ball at will as a move action. In addition to being fun toys they may alter to their whims with Prestidigitation, they may use the balls as unusual ranged weapons. Whether they hit or miss their target, the ball always bounces or rolls back to the Kook which threw it at the end of the Kooks' turn, as though it had the Returning property. As a free action upon hitting a creature, the Kook may cause the ball to melt into a semi-liquid state which quickly flows over the victim's face, gluing itself in place with a sugary stickiness that's difficult to break. It may order the ball to return to its toy form and then to its hand as a swift or move action on its turn.

A victim gummed up in this way cannot speak, see, or breathe. A nearby creature can help a gummed up creature, or it may attempt to free itself, by succeeding a DC 14 Strength check to tear the ball away as a full-round action, at which point it returns to its spherical shape and rolls back to the Kook. The gummed creature or a nearby ally can also attack the ball with a weapon or spell (AC 9, 5 HP; DR 5/slashing, vulnerable to acid and cold damage) to destroy it. If a Gummy Ball is destroyed, the Kook cannot summon another until it returns to the Gummy Tree to receive a new one, which typically takes 1 day.

Radiant Haze (Sp/Su): A Kook can use Charm Person as a spell-like ability at will (DC 15), but it can only target a given creature once per day. If the target creature is a child, the charm effect lasts 24 hours and can affect the target regardless of its creature type--Kooks prize the chance to get ahold of Native Outsiders, as they offer more potential years to their tree!

Children charmed by this ability see all Kooks as perfect, angelic, trustworthy children around their age. Any creature considered a teenager or older sees all Kooks as average, mundane children, and the Kooks must rely on their skills to maintain the illusion. If they perform any overtly supernatural or inhuman act, such as using a spell-like ability or climbing up a sheer surface, a non-child creature witnessing the act may make another saving throw against the charm. If a Kook performs a violent act in front of a charmed creature of any age, that creature may make a saving throw against the charm. A Kook which damages a creature automatically ends the charm on that creature. If the charm ends for a creature, they see the Kooks for what they truly are and are immune to Radiant Haze for 1 week.

Sugar Rush (Su): Kooks can survive off sugary foods of any sort without any problems. The high-energy foods they eat also give them the power to, once per day, enter a dramatically enraged state as a move action on their turn. In this state, they receive a +4 morale bonus to attack and damage rolls, their bite damage dice raises to 1d6, and their movement speeds double. They may remain in this state for a number of rounds equal to their hit dice, and become exhausted once it ends. Kooks typically never enter this state unless their true nature is discovered by more than one person, or the Gummy Tree is approached by an adult.

------

THE BIG KIDS

A designation given to around a dozen of the older Kooks in the conclave, the Big Kids are the de-facto leaders of the Kooks as a whole and advisors to the Gummy Tree, whom they see as both their creator and a treasured sibling... even if it's a little goofy sometimes. Their home base is a massive treehouse in the boughs of the Gummy Tree, fittingly called the Klubhouse, which other Kooks are rarely allowed to enter.

The Big Kids are generally content to follow their creators' loose orders, and are usually in charge of organizing which Kook goes where in the network of fey portals along the Sweet Summer Days to bring back new friends. If an intelligent plan or unusual scheme occurs among the Kooks, one can be assured it was a Big Kid who thought it up, even if their plans and schemes usually amount to getting ahold of a new book or toy or tool to amuse themselves and their friends with, or unusual crafting material for some project they have. On rare occasions the plans and schemes result in a magical item falling into the Kooks' hands, though what's done with it can be anything from benign (a Wand of Lightning Bolt used to sky-write at night) to the deadly (the same wand used to eliminate witnesses who saw through the Kooks' disguise or destroy a town in which a Kook was slain).

A Big Kid is an Advanced Kook with 3 to 6 class levels, typically in Rogue, Barbarian, Brawler, or Slayer, but there are at least two or three Bards or Sorcerers among their number... and rumor has it that the Biggest Kid who lives at the top of the treehouse, an individual fearfully/mockingly referred to as Big-Brain Brin, may be some form of occult caster such as a Psychic or Mesmerist with as many as 8 class levels. All Big Kids can hold open fey portals to and from the Sweet Summer Days, allowing Kooks (and only Kooks) to enter the Material Plane and return to home base at will. If a Big Kid is killed, the Gummy Tree can return them to life (as if using True Resurrection) by giving up 100 of its precious gathered years, something it always hems and haws about doing but inevitably does anyway because it wants them around. Other Kooks are rarely as lucky.

#Homebrew Horror #original concepts #pathfinder #body horror #ask to tag #this one has far more liberties in it than the last few BoUR conversions #the gummy tree and sweet summer days are my own creation #they're something ive had on my mind for a while and the kooks gave me an outlet for them #if you find them too silly you can just use the Kooks' original lore as needed

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fluffle-writes · 4 months ago

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Oh! I DIDNT even think about the apples going bad for Epel! Does the bad apples effect him, or is he tech safe letting the fall off naturally? Speaking of his health! Do his wings or branches change along with his health or emotions?

They don't fall off naturally, so Epel's apples will need a little help coming off if they stay on the branches a little too long - he used to just bash them against trees or rocks to dislodge the apples. (This is similar to how deer will dislodge their antlers!)

Eventually, Vil intervened and started assisting Epel in removing them in a less... Destructive manner (He was NOT happy about all the bark scraped off of trees and gouges in stone walls around Pomefiore territory lol.)

If he doesn't dislodge a bad apple for any reason, it'll start decaying on his horns and just feel kinda bad - like a headache except it's in his entire skull and neck and shoulders.

The rotting apple may also give off magical fumes that cause disorientation in people around him, and it can even cause hallucinations for those who are more susceptible to magical interference (such as a wayward magicless human)

As for his wings and branches!

His branches may need to be pruned occasionally if there are any odd growths - as long as it's done correctly there's no pain, but mistakes can cause the branches to leak a viscous, BRIGHT red liquid. (his blood.) They're much more sturdy than actual wood - he often uses them as a weapon if he needs to fight someone.

If he feels particularly threatened, his branches may darken and develop a hard shell to become even more sturdy - although this takes a lot of energy out of him, and it can take him some time to recover that energy after the danger is gone.

His wings are a little different to Vil and Rook's wings, as he's inspired by those angel statues (due to the fact that stone is a resilient material, and Epel is a resilient individual. But also Epel, early in the game, perceived Pomefiore as stifling and restrictive - like the movements of a statue.)

That is to say, his wings are constructed of a stone- like material (although much more manoeuvrable and light - more like bone but also not. It works because Weirdcore can make anything work lol) he often has to polish them and patch any cracks or scrapes so they can heal properly, as well as prevent moss or lichen from growing and restricting his movement. Vil had an absolute field day fixing up Epel's wings when he first got his grasp on the first-year.

They're constructed like layers of hard feathers, which can splay out and increase the perceived size of him by a significant amount. He almost tried posturing like that when he first encountered some of his larger upperclassmen, who are used to similar panic responses from newer entrants to NRC.

[Weirdcore AU Masterlist Here!]

#I hope you don't mind the ling answers haha - worldbuilding is fun #twst #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #tw weirdcore #weirdcore #twst epel #twisted wonderland epel #epel felmier #epel #cw blood mention #blood mention #I like to think of these guys as having much more animal-inspired behaviors for a lot of them #twst weirdcore AU

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rjzimmerman · 4 months ago

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The future of paper could come from gene-edited trees. (Washington Post)

It looked like something a kindergartner might use in an art project. So ordinary looking that, when Jack Wang was presenting it once, someone nearly set a drink down on it by accident.

“Almost gave me a heart attack,” recalled Wang, a geneticist here at North Carolina State University.

The thin, white, coaster-size circle of paper Wang was holding in his lab was anything but ordinary. He and his colleagues made this piece of paper from genetically edited wood — a material his team hopes will transform the way paper and other wood products are produced.

For decades, scientists have tinkered with the DNA of plants, using genetic engineering and other biotechnologies to produce crops that taste better, resist pesticides, contain more nutrients and improve yields for farmers. New tools, including artificial intelligence as well as a Nobel Prize-winning technology called CRISPR, are allowing researchers to edit genes with more precision and at a lower cost than ever before.

Now, Wang and his colleagues are aiming higher, literally. His team is trying to use gene editing to build trees that are better for making paper and other products, requiring less land and producing less pollution than natural varieties.

If there is a molecule that makes wood wood, it’s lignin.

Lignin is found in every land plant, from the tallest redwood to the shortest shrub. It is a polymer more complex than any other natural or man-made one, according to Wang. Its tough amorphous structure helps trees transportwater, ward off pests and maintain the rigidity they need to grow tall, stretch their limbs and reach sunlight.

For lumber in construction, lignin is a good thing. But for producing wood products that need to be pliable — such as paper, or cardboard, or diapers — it is anything but.

The paper industry uses lots of chemicals and energy to remove lignin from pulp. Reducing the energy used in the delignification process could cut costs and emissions. In the United States alone, the sector emitted 31.2 million metric tons of carbon dioxide equivalent in 2022 — equal to the output of eightcoal-fired plants.

“It takes a lot to turn a hard block of wood into a diaper,” said Rodolphe Barrangou, a professorat North Carolina State University who is working with Wang.

So Wang and Barrangou set out to grow trees containing less lignin.

#trees #paper #gene editing

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alohastyles-x · 2 years ago

Note

Hi! I had a request for your cruel summer event if you don’t mind :)

Kate Bishop x fem!Reader, Wildest Dreams (like, all of it?), fluff/smut

Totally fine if you don’t want to!

“She said “let’s get out of this town, drive out from the city, away from the crowds” | “She’s so tall and handsome as hell, she’s so bad but she does it so well” | “You'll see me in hindsight Tangled up with you all night Burning it down Someday when you leave me I bet these memorie Follow you around | “Say you'll remember me Standing in a nice dress Staring at the sunset, babe Red lips and rosy cheeks Say you'll see me again Even if it's just pretend”

note: this is a part of my Cruel Summer (Marvel's Version) Project, running all summer long. "totally fine if you don't want to", nonnie how could i NOT?! I also was unaware how popular kate is for fics on here rn, so I will be hyperfixating hard thank youuuuu. Clearly I am using your ask nonnie to manifest tf out of some romance in my life that I am so lacking hahahah. anyways, I hope you enjoy bby! <3

wordcount: 1.7k

trope / pairing: kate bishop x Fem Reader , fluff&smut

warnings: smutty smut smut at the end, but like a sweet smut (still 18+ tho)

Materslist | Marvel Masterlist | Cruel Summer (Marvel's Version) Masterlist |

The full moon hung low in the sky, cascading the entire highway in a bath of moonlight. The sight was breathtaking, and Kate couldn’t decide which view she liked more- you sitting in the passenger seat, or the illuminated landscape before you two.

It had been her idea to leave the city in the dead of night and take a drive until you found a secluded spot for just the two of you. It had come to her when she saw you leaning on the balcony talking to Clint, overlooking the city. The sun was setting, casting a glow around you. You were so pretty, she knew she had to get you by yourself.

You were still in your attire from the charity event earlier, Kate in her sleek black suit, and you in your matching black dress. It was Kate’s favorite dress on you, as it hugged your curves in all her favorite ways. The two of you were still thriving off the energy of the charity event, unable to sleep, which is how the two of you ended up in Kate's car.

You instantly agreed, knowing damn well you’d follow her anywhere she wanted to go- especially in that suit. The way the dark material softened her pale skin made her look incredible. A sight before your eyes.

“Where are we even going?” You asked, a giggle following. If you knew Kate at all, you knew she had a plan. It may have been a loose one, but a plan none-the-less.

“Okay, so I remember seeing this cute little dinner a few towns over on my way back from the last mission, and I just knew I had to take you. So that’s what we're doing, were finding the diner.” Kate responded, looking to you hopeful. You stared at her, before busting out in laughter.

“Kate! It is the middle of the night!”

“It’s open 24 hours!” Kate defended herself, laughing with you.

“Do you remember anything else besides it being a ‘couple towns over’?”

“I remember it was pink and blue, like a ‘50’s themed diner, and that its open 24 hours. That is about it,” Kate responded.

“Alright, mission received, Hawkeye.” You saluted her, and turned your attention to the deserted highway.

There was nothing but trees in either direction, making it difficult to see far off in the distance. That didn’t stop you from trying though. The nearest exit was still five miles away, so you waited patiently for the signs showing local food spots off the exit, while trying to peer through the dark woods blanketing the highway.

Finally, a sign appeared, illuminated under some lights.

MCDONALDS 0.2 mi

DANS DINER o.3 mi

“Oh, look! There’s a dinner off this exit, should we try it?” You said, hopeful.

“Yeah, yeah lets do it!”

As the exit approached, Kate veered off, following the sign until the Diner appeared. It was decorated in browns and gold- clearly decorated by a man without a single interior design bone in his body. Kate grimaced as she looked it over. The parking lot was dark, with only a single, flickering street light on the property. The diner was empty, save for the cook who stared menacingly out the windows. You swallowed a gulp, afraid he’d hear it even through the glass.

“Definitely not this one,” she said, turning the car around.

“Oh, thank god,” you whispered. The diner did not look the friendliest, or the cleanest for that matter.

“There’s definitely at least one family of roaches in there,” you said, earning a laugh from Kate.

“Oh at least, but definitely more.”

The two of you drove for another hour, pulling off at any diner you spotted. None of them were even remotely close, all decorated horribly and didn’t look the least bit appealing. The search was becoming exhausting, and you were starving by this point. You were just about to ask Kate if you could turn back, maybe stop somewhere else, but she suddenly slammed on the breaks.

“Kate! What are you doing, you’re in the middle of the road, you can’t just stop like this!” You yelled, frantically looking behind you to make sure no cars were coming.

“I found it!” She squealed, pointing. Just ahead stood a tall sign, lit with neon that read “Callie’s Diner”. Below, sat a quaint little dinner, brightly lit with multiple guests eating there.

“Oh my god we found it!” You smiled. Your stomach rumbled just then, as if echoing your statement. With that, Kate began driving again, veering off at the exit.

She parked the car in the lot, and the two of you got out. It was just how Kate described it, like a time capsule from the 50’s. The booths were light blue and pink, matching the painted walls. Bright green plants sat in the corners, giving the place a lively feel to it. There was one waitress, who moved around on roller skates between the kitchen and the booths.

“Woah, this is so cool!” You said, as the two of you settled into an empty booth.

“Isn’t it? I knew you’d love it.” Seeing Kate enthusiastic about something she wanted to show you warmed your heart. The simple fact that she saw a place and instantly thought of you was enough to reassure any fears you may have had.

Kate was definitely the greatest thing to ever happen to you, and the feeling was mutual. She loved the way you could light up a room with just your smile, how contagious your laugh was. The way you drummed your fingers against any surface near you when you were bored. She loved every little thing about you, and couldn’t wait to spend the rest of her life with you.

The two of you ordered food and some milkshakes, and scarfed everything down in what should have been a record time. Driving and searching really exasperated the two of you. But no matter how tired or starving the two of you were, you couldn’t help but have fun, just enjoying being in each others company. Kate had stuck her finger in the whip cream of the milkshake, before bopping you on the nose, leaving remnants of whip cream on it. You scoffed, mocking offense, before attempting to do the same thing back. It just ended with Kate getting whip cream in her hair and on her suit- which just led to her laughing even harder.

Kate paid, and tipped the waitress, and the two of you walked back out to the car. It was still dark out, the kind of dark that is seemingly the darkest, just before the sun begins to rise. The parking lot was flooded in light from the street lamp, creating a perfect little haven out in the car. By now, the rest of the lot was empty, save for the employee cars on the side.

“What now?” You asked Kate.

“I have an idea,” Kate smiled sheepishly, before jumping in the backseat. You giggled, knowing exactly where her mind went. The two of you hadn’t had alone time in weeks, since Kate got sent on an extended mission across the country,

Kate folded the seats down with some effort, as the left one always loves to get stuck, and brought you close in her arms. Her soft lips found yours with urgency as she let her hands run all over your body. Your hands made your way into her hair, tugging ever so slightly as she deepened the kiss. A moan reverberated through your body as her tongue danced with yours.

Her hand slipped the straps of your dress off, moving to take it all the way off. A breath hitched in her throat at the lacy garments you wore underneath, anticipating this moment from the moment you got dressed earlier.

“So beautiful,” she whispered, moving to kiss down your neck, and then your chest. Another moan escaped you as you rolled your head back, her teeth nipping gently at your skin. You moved to straddle her lap, while taking her jacket off.

The two of you undressed each other fairly quickly, not wanting to waste a single second. As she tugged your lacy silk underwear to the side, she slipped a finger in between the folds of you, your wet slick coating your fingers.

“You’re so wet for me, baby,” Kate praised, as she began to rub you gently. The feeling was euphoric as she worked around your clit, her fingers finding their way inside you. You shuddered out a gasp as she pushed another finger inside.

“Oh god,” you moaned.

“You feel so good,” Kate moaned back, her breath hot against your own. She pushed you down gently, moving slowly as she made her way down your chest, leaving a trail of soft kisses. Her mouth was soft against your skin, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. A blush crept up on your cheeks. No matter how many times she had seen you like this, you were always nervous.

Sensing your nervousness, she gave your hand a squeeze, before dipping her head between your thighs. The sight itself was almost enough to send you over the edge, as she looked up at you. Her tongue worked its way around your heat, as she lapped you up- the taste of you exquisite against her tongue.

“Oh, god Kate, that feels amazing,” you whispered, reaching out to try and grab anything to cling to. Of course, there was nothing in her car aside from supplies from past missions, so you reached down to grab her hair instead, pulling her even closer to you. She moaned against you, glancing up to see your reaction.

“Fuck, Kate, I’m going to -” You couldn’t finish, as the familiar euphoric feeling rushed over you, your body spasming underneath the grip Ktae had on your waist. She held you down firmly, determined to let you ride your high all the way, until you were left panting and numb on her face.

She grinned as she moved to be above you, kissing you passionately.

“Come back to me, baby,” she whispered, her palm resting softly on your cheek. You leaned into her touch, trying your hardest to smile. Exhaustion overcame you as you laid helplessly beneath her. She grinned, leaning down to kiss your lips once more before putting her shirt back on.

“We will definitely be finishing this in the morning after a good night's sleep,” she said, finding your dress. She helped slip it over your shoulders, and down your body, the ghost of her fingertips sending shivers down your spine.

#kate bishop smut #kate bishop x reader #kate bishop fuff #kate bishop #kate bishop fic #cruel summer project #<33333 #alohastylesx #alohastylesx works #kate bishop fluff #kate bishop imagine #kate bishop fic rec #kate bishop x female reader #kate bishop x fem!reader #marvel fic #marvel x taylor swift #kate bishop x taylor swift #taylor swift inspired #nonnie baby🦋

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call-me-little-sunshine84 · 2 years ago

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Between Us

Jim 'Chief' Hopper x female reader

Rating: Explicit - Minors DNI

Characters: Jim "Chief' Hopper x female reader

Summary: While you're at a friend's party, Hopper steals you away to the woods for some fun

Warnings: unprotected outdoor sex, oral sex (m receiving), possible unplanned pregnancy, smut and fluff

A/N: reader and Hopper are in established relationship, she realizes she might be pregnant. Since it's Hopper, of course there's smut also

“Hop, you’re going,” you said, giving him your most exasperated expression. “Why? She’s your friend, not mine. And what adult has their birthday party at a park anyway?” he asked. “Seriously? What’s wrong with that? Will it kill you to spend some time outside in the sunshine with me? Besides, she’s not just a friend, she’s my best friend” you replied, trying to look sincere and innocent. You knew he would cave; he always did with you. “Damn it, you’re lucky you’re hot. I’ll go, but I’m not staying all day,” he capitulated. Hugging him tightly, you gave him a kiss on the cheek. “That’s all I’m asking,” you smiled, leaving the room to get ready.

It was still warm enough outside, so you put on your favorite sundress, the one with the colorful flowers and thin straps, the material loose and flowy. It happened to be Hop’s favorite dress of yours also. Pulling your hair back and glancing in the mirror one final time, you gathered the gifts and food you were carrying and loaded the car. When Hopper saw you, he whistled appreciatively. “Lookin’ good darlin’,” he told you with a wink, reaching a hand out to slap you on the ass. You squealed and smacked him on the arm playfully. “Get in the car, Chief,” you said with a smirk.

It only took a few minutes to reach the park, and when you pulled up you could see that your friend had gone all out with the decorating. Balloon archways, brightly colored banners, and streamers were everywhere. You ran up to her, hugging her tightly. “I’m so glad you’re here!” she cried. “Would you mind helping me get the food ready?” she asked. “Of course not, lead the way,” you told her with a smile. You followed her to the pavilion and began helping her to get everything set up.

In the middle of scooping macaroni salad into a bowl, you looked up and realized she was staring at you. “What’s going on, are you okay?” she asked, brow raised. “What, where did that come from?” you replied, wondering if it was really that obvious. “Come on, how long have we been friends? I know something is up,” she said, concern etched across her face. You decided to tell her the truth. “I don’t know. I just don’t feel like myself lately. Something is off. I’m either tired or horny all the time.” She laughed. “I’m sure Hopper doesn’t mind that part. Have you talked to him about it?” she asked. “No, I was going to after the party. I have an appointment with the doctor next week to see what’s going on,” you said with a sigh.

“I’m sure you’re fine,” she said with a wide smile, like she knew something you didn’t. Looking around for Hopper, you saw him talking to a man over by the edge of the woods. Always on duty you thought, making your way over to him. “Hey darlin’,” he said with a grin, sliding an arm around your waist and kissing you on the cheek. The man he had been talking to said his goodbyes and walked over to join everyone else, leaving the two of you alone.

“Want to take a walk in the woods?” he asked, eyebrow raised and a cocky smile on his face. You could already tell what he was thinking, and it sent your heart rate through the roof. “Okay,” you replied, this time smacking him on the ass. You followed him down the trail into the woods for a few minutes before he dragged you away from it, venturing deeper into the trees where people were less likely to go.

Pulling you up against him, he held you tightly and kissed you deeply. The feel of his large body relaxed you, and the stress started leaving your body. Backing you up against a tree trunk, he nuzzled your neck, his mustache tickling your sensitive skin. Moaning contentedly, you felt his hands roaming your body, settling on your breasts. He squeezed roughly and you pulled back, wincing. “What’s wrong?” he asked, immediately worried. “It’s nothing, my breasts are just really sore. Probably PMS or something,” you replied, but something stuck in the back of your mind.

Wait a minute. Sore breasts, tired all the time. When was my last period you wondered to yourself. You couldn’t even remember, which told you that it had been a lot longer than it should have been. Oh. My. God. Am I pregnant? You tried not to let panic set in. It made so much sense. It explained the way you had felt the last few weeks. You weren’t trying for it to happen, but you and Hop weren’t exactly the most careful people when the heat of the moment hit. What will he say? No wonder your friend hadn’t been worried earlier; she must have suspected it.

A million thoughts were swirling through your head, but then Hopper started kissing a slow trail down your neck and your mind blanked. You just focused on the feel of his body against yours, the smell of him, inhaling deeply. “I’ll be gentle, I promise,” he murmured as he pulled down the top of your dress to expose your aching breasts. He lavished his tongue over your pebbled nipples, eliciting moans of pleasure from deep inside of you. He sucked on them slowly, like he was afraid of breaking you. “Hop, please,” you gasped, already feeling the slick between your legs just from this small amount of attention. You arched your body toward him and could feel his arousal straining against his pants. Reaching out, you unfastened then pulled down his pants, his cock springing free, the tip already weeping.

Your mouth watered at the sight of him. At that moment you wanted nothing more than to feel his rock-hard dick in your mouth, so that’s exactly what you did. You kneeled down carefully and licked him up one side and down the other, tracing every ridge and vein with your eager tongue. Placing your lips over his tip, you slowly took in more and more of him, until you had him completely inside your mouth, pushing against the back of your throat. Moving slowly, trying not to gag on his length, you were practically dripping just listening to the grunts and groans he was letting out. He told you all the time that you gave the best blow jobs, and you were trying to prove him right.

“Damn, baby, I need to fuck you now ,” he practically whined, pulling himself from your mouth and helping you stand up. He turned you around to face the tree, pulling his shirt off and placing it between you and the bark so you wouldn’t get scratched up. He pulled your dress up around your waist and removed your underwear, shoving it in his pocket.

Spreading you apart with his knee, he lined himself up with your entrance, and pushed inside of you slowly. “So wet, just for me,” he moaned as he bottomed out. He began thrusting at a pace that had you crying out in mere seconds. “I always love fucking your sweet, tight pussy,” he said, throwing his head back and giving in to his pleasure, fucking you with abandon. He reached around to rub small circles on your clit, making you see stars. You pushed back against him as hard as you could, making him go as deep as possible. The delicious drag of his dick through your walls paired with the feel of his fingers on you sent you flying over the edge. His movements became erratic, and he reached his own climax as you finished riding out your high.

He slowly pulled out, then handed you your underwear back before you could start leaking down your thighs. You straightened your dress while he pulled his pants back up. He looked at you sheepishly. “I probably should have pulled out, huh?” he said with a grin.

“Ummm, about that,” you replied, deciding to just rip the band-aid off and tell him what you suspected. “Hop, I need to tell you something and I don’t know how you will react,” tears already welling up in your eyes. Maybe you should have waited longer than 3 minutes post-sex to drop this bomb. “What is it darlin’, you’re scaring me,” he asked, concern written all over his face. “I think I might be pregnant. I don’t know for sure, I’ll have to take a test,” you blurted out in a hurry, ready to run. He was silent for a short while. “Please say something,” you begged, desperately needing to know what he was thinking. “If you are, that’s great,” he said finally, and you felt like a thousand pounds had been lifted off of you. “Really?” you sobbed. “Of course. Any child that is part of you will be perfect,” he said, wrapping his arms around you and holding you tightly. “Either way, we’ll get through it together,” he said, kissing you gently. You melted into his touch. The kiss rapidly became more. “Are you wanting round two, Hop? Don’t you think they’ll miss us at the party?” you ask with a smirk. “Who cares, as long as I’m with you that’s all that matters.”

#jim hopper x fem!reader #jim hopper x you #jim hopper smut #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper #stranger things smut #david harbour #hopper x reader #hopper fluff

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thebdsmsofurlife · 8 months ago

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Humans started off our chaotic existence with a pretty interesting attribute; we were able to outlast our prey, less so out run or outmanouvre. This was more useful in our earlier days of survival, but less so nowadays. Still, you never know when it could come in handy.

Like when I find you, all alone in the woods. You were using it as a getaway; avoiding the city life, taking some time to relax, even avoiding wearing clothes if at all possible. And thats where I found you.

Of course you startled and hid behind a tree. You weren't expecting anyone here, but surely I'd understand and just leave right? At least thats what you thought until I followed you and got a good look at your trembling body. You could see the desire, hear how my breathing got heavier. You knew i wasn't just going to leave.

And so you ran. To your credit, you were more agile than me. You could fit around smaller bends, you dealt with the foliage better than I did. But there was that one thing that made your failure inevitable; your speed left a lot of tracks. It was visible everywhere. In the mud, the bushes, the broken twigs. Even when you crossed a small pond I could see the wet ground and take a reasonable guess at where you had gone. And just like every prey animal before you in the history of mankind I didn't need to out speed you. I didn't even need to be able to take all the shortcuts you could. I just needed to keep a steady pace.

It was close to midnight when you tripped into that clearing, skinning your knees as you went face first into the ground. The pain didn't hold a candle to the fear though. And then I was on you.

My belt came off easily, in one smooth, prepared motion. And soon it was brought down on your perfect little ass, making you cry out in pain. You even saw some of the animals scurry away, as if they didn't want to see what would happen to you.

I'm sure you begged at that point, it was really the only option you had left. But my blood was throbbing in my ears, and I really couldn't hear you even if I wanted to.

Once I was satisfied with the welts on your ass and how prettily you cried for me, I used the belt to tie up your legs. There wouldn't be a second chance. You already forfeited your chance to escape pet. As you cried into the dirt, you felt the oppressive sensation of my hairy, naked body pressing down on yours. We were covered in dirt from the chase, and even some mild cuts from the foliage. Still, I wouldn't have it any other way.

By the time my cock was inside you, your voice was gone. You couldn't even cry out, not like anyone could hear you. And my teeth clamping down on your neck only solidified that.

Still, as I triumphantly guided my cock into you, claiming my prey for the first time, I noticed something even I hadn't expected.

You were wet

And not even just a little bit. You were desperately, shamefully soaking my engorged prick. I thought I'd have to play with you some to get it inside with how tight you were, but it looks like this would be easier than I thought.

Instead, as I sank into you, I reached around and groped your tits. I didn't have enough material to tie off your hands so you were free to try and remove mine from your rapidly stiffening nipples. And that was when I first saw the ring.

I had no idea you were taken, or that you might be out here with someone. You feel a sudden surge of precum leak inside you as I realized just what a prize you were.

Instead of taking you doggy like I had wanted originally, I flip you over so I can look at you. You were perfect; your tears had cut through the dirt and mud, your skin was flush. And as I reentered you you let out an almost imperceptible gasp.

But the true prize was when I sucked your ring finger into my mouth. THAT did it, didn't it kitten? You can deny that long, low moan all you want. You can use your free hand in a renewed, feeble effort to get me off of you. But that moan you can never take back. Nor can you that first kiss, when your lips parted for me as if it were a reflex. Sure, you pulled away, but we both knew where this was leading.

I had you exactly where I wanted you. We had all the time in the world, and I had a strong feeling that by the time I was satisfied we'll have both enjoyed ourselves. Isnt that right my little prey?

#bd/sm daddy #daddy k!nk #daddy’s babygirl #bd/sm kink #rough daddy #r@pe kink #cnc free use #cnc k!nk #cvmdump #rough cnc #rap3toybd/sm relationshiprap3 fantasyrapedollrapekinkcnc free usekidnap roleplaykidnap fantasysomno fantasyfree #rapedoll #rapekink #rapetoy

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chaili-1512 · 2 years ago

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" Poisonous flower "

CW:Touching, kissing, y\n, The main character is a Na'vi, na’vi quaritch x na’vi reader

TW: some smut

You work as an interpreter in the guard of the Celestial Nation, as well as a guide in the realm of Pandora and the life of Na'vi, you are loyal to your service, but you are still a sane Avatar who is extremely negative about violence. With only the memories of your past life with you, you continued to work for the side you thought was right, but of course it wasn't, subconsciously you knew that killing was not the answer, but who would listen to someone like you. You were lucky to have a great team, and although you didn't fit in right away, you were able to find common ground with some of them, including the incorrigible Miles Quaritch himself, of all those present you had an extremely strained relationship which allowed you to constantly turn the conversation into an argument, luckily the guys were able to unblock you every time and keep you from killing each other. One day your group was sent out to scout the northern part of the forest to make sure there were no extra savages there, and if they were found, to take prisoners or kill them, which you didn't let the group do every time. To your surprise, the colonel obediently obeyed this order, only silently putting away his weapon and subduing the savage. Your job, as commander, was to keep everything under control and, if necessary, to make reasonable decisions, without violence, by negotiation, being a guide and mentor in the realm of this violent nature. The landing went quickly, and, as always, you guided the action with a taskbar that gave you a map and a place to head to with one swipe of your hand. The goal was to find more Na'vi and get them out of the way for the RDA's personal purposes.

-Look, Y\n, what if they're not here, - Lyle replied tiredly, waving off the nasty insects. This part of the forest was best known for its carnivorous plants and wildlife.

-Then we'll have less work to do, won't we, Lyle. Or are you tired already? - You turned to him with a chuckle, and your joke was shared by all but the Colonel, who, as usual, only rolled his eyes.

When you finally reached your destination, you found abandoned dwelling huts built from trees and other improvised materials, and then Quaritch went first, gesturing for you to clear the area. You, in turn, stood behind him and watched simply, you were clumsy at shooting, but if it came to hand-to-hand combat, your fists were ready to stand up for yourselves.

-Corporal, as you can hear, reception - Miles' job was to protect you, which angered him, because every time he had to risk his ass for you.

-All clear, sir, only traps found that didn't work, - the man looked carefully around one of the huts, checking every corner, as did the rest of the boys.

-Don't you find that suspicious? - said warily, and then Miles' eyes widened just as he was about to turn to one of the boys, something grabbed him by the leg and dragged him into the bushes.

-Ambush, get back! - The boys immediately ran in your direction, but everyone was already trapped, and the strung rope dragged them into the woods. Miles covered you in every way he could, looking around, his ears drooping and a smirk appearing, he froze for a second, then abruptly grabbed your hand and you ran off in an unknown direction.

-What the hell, where are we running to?! - you tried to keep up with the rapid pace of his run, picking your way through the bushes and roots.

-Fewer words, soldier, I'm trying to save us! - he shouted as he continued to run, finally you managed to escape the unknown, on the way you managed to send a message to the base with a signal for help so they could call for reinforcements. Your lungs were about to burst out, and you huddled against a nearby tree to regain your breath. Quaritch listened to his surroundings and only then was he able to exhale and come to his senses when the danger was over.

-Are you okay? Are you hurt? - The man gave you a concerned look that made you feel uncomfortable for a second.

-I'm fine, I'm glad you're wondering how I am, - you smiled sarcastically, but all you got in return was that familiar fierce look.

-Unfortunately for me, I have to ask for it every time I risk my ass for a scumbag like you, - he crossed his arms over his chest and looked at you seriously, you just wanted to say something as your gaze fell on what was behind him.

-Let's not make any unnecessary moves, - you carefully began to step back, Miles only tensed, taking his weapon and quickly turning around to see the bushes and the usual kinds of trees.

-Look, we're not in a position to make jokes right now, come on, - the colonel only pushed back the thicket, causing his tail to flutter and rise like a trumpet, along with his ears. - What the… - he only looked around after those words, then collapsed to the ground.

-Damn it, Miles! This is a dangerous bush, their poison causes intoxication and hallucinations!? - You cautiously began pulling your partner's legs, though he was losing strength, you still managed to pull him out. After laying him down as comfortably as possible with his back to the tree, you began rummaging through your bag, laying everything out on the surface of the bark in search of the right medicine. While you were looking for everything you needed, the colonel managed to wake up on his own, but his tongue was mumbling something unintelligible.

-Oh, you were able to wake up on your own, that's great, then I can give you a smaller dose and… - Before you could finish and pass the syringe, your wrist was intercepted, the expression on his face was speechless, and it was very difficult to assess the situation.

-What are you going to do to me? And without my consent… - Quaritch tried to formulate his speech, which was difficult, but he managed something.

-Hey, listen, I want to help you, so please let go of my hand, - you wanted to break out of his grasp, but the man's face played only a smile, this you clearly did not expect from such a rude man.

-Why should I let such a beautiful girl like you go? - His eyes went wild, like those of a hungry predator playing with its prey.

-Look, I think this poison has given you a strong side effect… - You looked again at the plants, which were already far enough away that you couldn't hit them again. Finally your wrist was free, and all that remained on Quaritch's face was bewilderment and incomprehension.

-Do you mean to tell me that this weed makes me do stupid things? - The colonel rose slightly, leaning against a tree, and you, in turn, stood up and pointed exactly the same way to a grove of these plants. - Exactly, and now I'm going to inject you with a drug that will lessen the effects, - the man threw another fierce look at you after your words.

-Have I ever told you that I've been attracted to your looks since the first time we met? - This statement made you look at him confused for a split second, and all that comforted you was the phrase, "-It's just the effect of that plant, he's gone mad, nothing more." Everything would have been fine, but his crooked gait headed in your direction, forcing you to move a few meters away from him, - Miles Quaritch, you need a shot, or it will get worse… - your voice no longer seemed as confident as before, for now you were pinned against a large wooden pole, and in front of you stood the colonel's rather rough and pumped body, whose gaze made your tail move like a propeller.

-I feel good now, Y\n especially with you by my side, - he whispered it so softly that your ears flinched and an electric shock ran through your body like you had never experienced before. While your thoughts were clouded with worry, his fingertips ran gently over your arms, making your body throb even harder. Quaritch was so close that his heavy breath burned your innocent face, which was already covered in embarrassment.

-Miles, what are you doing? - the question came softly enough and in one exhale, when his hands were already on your thighs, squeezing them tightly.

-What you have long wanted, but could not afford - the colonel's gaze was fixed on your lips, everything inside him was burning, only you could cause him such strong and ridiculous feelings. As much as you wanted it to stop, your body seemed to defy common sense, and you could only watch as his strong arms pressed you closer and his warm lips showered you with light kisses. Your body burned frantically with every touch on your neck, lightly biting it with his fangs, Quaritch teasing you, making you feel intense embarrassment, his mind still stupefied, and such an effect without the necessary aids could have lasted 48 hours.

-Miles… Stop it, you're not yourself, - your cotton palms tried to push away from the man's chest, but he in turn only intercepted them and raised them above your head, holding you in a kind of trap from which it was difficult to escape.

-Out of yourself I can only be from you - you were naturally enjoying everything that was happening, but common sense still managed to master your brain, the colonel was stupefied and the only option to stop this debauchery was to take control of yourself. The very moment you wanted to be indignant, your lips plunged into a passionate kiss, you never in your life would have thought he was so good at it. Each time the touch of his lips became more and more impatient, given only seconds to exhale and inhale, your tail went crazy and spun with the burning inside. The ground beneath your feet disappeared each time, but Quaritch's firm grip kept you from falling, pressing your wretched body closer to his, still holding your wrists higher.

-Stop, I can't breathe anymore… - You pulled away from the passionate kisses, to which the man only laughed.

-You didn't seem to mind, - he said smugly, finally letting go of your hands. You lifted your head and covered the back of your wrist, greedily gulping for air with your mouth. Unfortunately, the respite was very short; you could tell by the way Miles was touching you, because his hand had already climbed under your shirt. That movement made your tail rise and your body shudder again; the situation had to be saved, an idea popped into your head, and you had to make it happen somehow. You wrapped your arms around Miles' neck and dug into his lips, it was so sudden that the man began to pull back until you both fell into the grass.

-So you like being on top? - he smirked, watching your body.

-Sure, - you tried to reach for your bag, which wasn't far away, but his hands exploring your body, under your shirt, distracted you in every way possible. Finally reaching into the bag, you quickly pulled out a syringe and injected the drug into his shoulder, the man groaned in sharp pain, and you just got off him and sat down next to him, it was unwise to leave until the effects were completely gone, so you just waited for him to come to his senses. At this point the other guys were finally able to get to you, as it turned out they were just tied upside down to the trees, alive and well.

-Finally, now they're coming for us, - you sighed tiredly and looked at Miles, who was already the real Miles.

-What the hell… My goddamn head, what happened? Are we dead? - Holding his head, he tried to remember everything that had happened a few minutes ago, apparently the shock had been so severe that he had lost his memory.

-It's nothing, you just fell unconscious and I was trying to save you the whole time, - a lie for the good of both of them, you knew that if you told it like it was, there would be a lot of embarrassment and misunderstanding in your future service.

-Just passing out like that? Well, never mind, thanks, soldier, - his eyes stared into the distance, trying to remember something. After a few minutes of contemplation you heard the familiar hum of the engine, salvation finally came to you, and together with everyone else you went to the base. You spent the rest of the day in your own thoughts in your office, you also took samples of that poison that is so powerful, as it turns out the Na'vi use it in hunting to stupefy game and make them lose their minds.

At that moment there was a knock on the door, and the familiar figure of Miles stepped in.

-Oh, you feel better, did you want something? - You put aside your work and turned to him, there was not a single emotion on his face that you would normally see.

-You know, I behaved extremely rudely in my work with you and… - he paused and scratched his neck, - And I would like to apologize, - you rounded your eyes in surprise, but you apologized just as he did.

-It's okay, we just didn't see eye to eye, - you said, and you shook hands peacefully.

-But if you want to go on and talk about what we rehearsed after what happened in the woods, you know where to find me, - Miles grinned, your face ready to burn, he remembered every little detail? - For a nerd, you're an excellent kisser, - the colonel left the office after that phrase, leaving you alone with your thoughts and burning with embarrassment.

#awow #quaritch imagine #quaritch fanfic #quaritch x reader #quaritch x oc #Colonel quaritch x you #Colonel quaritch imagine #Colonel quaritch headcanon #Colonel quaritch x y/n #Colonel quaritch #colonel quaritch x reader

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swallowtailed · 4 months ago

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palisade 56 / finalisade interlude: thinking about trees, wood, and timber

oh my god yall. i cannot describe how thrilled i was to meet xylem. a wood-shaped branched!! studying light!!! meditating on time!!!! what a perfect expression of the other-than-human experiences palisade's been exploring.

my immediate first thought on xylem's description was that there's something really compelling about branched personhood involving a consistent yet changeable internal geometry (cf ants walking in a circle). wood is a very organized material, and the branching pattern of trees recapitulates itself. (i'd argue this is also true of human cell structure, tbh, just a bit less obviously.) (*also wood doesn't grow continually! only the outermost ring of a tree is alive. the interior layers are dead tissue. i'll get back to that in a second.)

and wakeful immediately kicked off with suspicion at a perceived lack of cohesion or stability, which was even more fascinating, because wakeful is Also Like That--addressed later by comparing wakeful to a tree (internally structured, each part recapitulating the whole). i almost want to read wakeful's initial reaction as... jealousy? at being able, allowed, willing, free to change as you please. and conversely, that xylem saw a like creature in resolute welkin. which is also very revealing about how the branched view selfhood.

okay, the dead heartwood thing. the only living part of the bole of a tree is the outermost ring (which includes the xylem, the water transport system). the old rings die, but remain as structure. wood is a great record-keeper. each new ring is shaped by the circumstances of its growth--not just water, but light, wind, the surrounding trees, the eroding slope, disturbances from fire and storms and animals--and all of that can be read as long as the wood lasts. unless the tree is so old that its heartwood decays and hollows out, leaving a lacuna at the center. but that's just forgetting. we all do that. anyway: time, for trees, is simply longer than it is for humans, and the experience of that time is recorded in the body of the tree. so what a good way to engage with long-time from the branched perspective! a branched tree! (do we even know how long the branched live? does it depend on their form?)

going to split this point out as its own post but: really liked that xylem takes many forms of wood, rather than just trees. there's a context of influence and reshaping there that i think is important

meanwhile also a really lovely and heartwrenching relationship. i love the invention of new intimacies.

lastly. "some secret war-ending quality hidden in the light all the way out here". did make me cry. it's... yknow. that's the job. or you hope that's the job. it's probably not. but it might be.

#fatt #palisade #palisade spoilers #hello world #fatt lb #very pleased about xylem :)

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revasserium · 1 year ago

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狐と蛍の物語 (the story of the fox and the firefly)

harrison; 4,064 words; fluff and angst a/n: for @violettduchess and @aquagirl1978's summer days, sultry nights event -- prompt "fireflies" (obviously); i'm also gonna say this counts for my 31 days of au prompt -- reincarnation!au; inspired by hotarubi no mori e and catheryn m valente's deathless and honestly, i'm so proud and happy with this one that i'd encourage you to read it even if you have no idea of the fandom/character. u__u i would love, love, love to know what you guys think!

once upon a time, a long, long time ago, there lived a girl who only danced to the firefly’s light and a fox who could tell nothing but lies.

01.

for as long as you can remember, there’s always been the wood. and it has always been behind your house, it’s leaves and branches foreboding in the winter wind, and somehow less so in the simmer of mid-summer afternoons, when the sunlight dappled light across the soft, forest floor. it isn’t a very large wood, but it’s a wood nevertheless, and deserves all the respect and fear afforded to bigger woods in faraway places. woods that warn of teeth and terrors, woods that hide both dreams and monsters.

you’d been wandering the wood from when you were a little girl, and to you, there’s not a single rock you don’t know, a single tree you haven’t tried to climb. and the forest knows you, as forests do the people who frequent them, and it welcomes you with open arms, it cradles you to its chest, whispers stories into your ears, carves itself open to show you it’s secrets —

“you’re late.”

you crinkle your nose at the familiar voice, letting out a huffing breath as you drop your picnic basket in the middle of the small, sun-lit clearing, taking your time with laying out the checked picnic blanket and two cups and saucers for tea, and finally, pulling out a tray of confections, covered by a thin, linen baking towel.

“no, i’m not! you just want me to think i am so i’ll give you more than half of the sweets.”

a boy settles over the picnic blanket, cocking his head at you before you narrow your eyes.

“well? isn’t that true?”

“ahh… i wonder if it is…” he says, but you can hear the grin in his voice, even through the material of his fox-faced mask, which, after a few more seconds of posturing, he pushes up onto his forehead. he shakes out his milk-tea hair and slates you a poison-ivy grin. you know that grin like you know the woods— and you know the woods like you know the backs of your own hands. better, even, you think sometimes.

because for as long as there’s been the woods, and as long as you have wandered it’s depths, the boy with the fox-faced mask has always been there.

“there were fresh strawberries at farmer’s market today,” you say, setting up the tea service as you nudge the opened picnic basket towards the boy with a foot. he peers in with wide, curious eyes before letting out a soft noise of contentment as he reaches in to pull out a slice of freshly baked strawberry cream cake.

“your grandmama makes the best pastries in the world,” he says, and there’s such sincerity in his voice that for a moment, you almost believe him.

but you nod and take the compliment in stride, “she sure does!”

he digs in with gusto even when you tut that the tea hasn’t steeped properly, but you laugh as he smears a large dollop of whipped cream across his cheeks. you point it out to him with a dainty finger, and as always, you fight the urge to reach over and wipe it off for him. instead, you hold yourself still and sigh as he finally gets to it, smudging a bit into his hair in the process.

“clumsy fox,” you giggle, pressing a hand up to your lips.

“picky girl,” he snipes back, but there’s that full, sated grin on his own lips as he leans back, his elbows propped up on the soft grasses of the clearing.

after a moment of pleasant silence during which the leaves sang on their trees and the grasses swayed beneath the breeze, the boy turns towards you.

“so. no dancing today?”

you turn your head towards him before casting your eyes up towards the still bright blue sky.

“you know it’s not time yet.”

the boy heaves a melodramatic sigh, sound much bigger and larger than his 14-year old body should be able to hold.

“ah… right, right — because you can —”

“— only dance by the fireflies’ light — yep!”

the boy regards you with an imperious sort of look before breaking into a fit of bright, open laughter.

“you’re the strangest girl i’ve ever met!”

“just you saying that tells me it’s not true,” you stick out your tongue at him, even as heat washes up into your cheeks.

the boy shrugs, lying back down on the picnic basket, “i don’t always have to lie, y’know.”

and it’s your turn to regard him with the imperious look, and, a the cock of a singular eyebrow, his lips tug into a lopsided grin. his eyes flash, the color of budding spring.

“liar,” you say, but you’re smiling too as you lie back down to watch the clouds pass.

he makes no sound to correct you.

02.

once, you’d asked him what his name is and he simply shook his head and said —

“call me whatever you’d like.”

“but i want to call you by your name.”

“what’s in a name anyway?”

“uhm… nothing’s in it but…” you’d frowned then, your eight year old mind spinning to try and catch up with this strange, strange question and this strange, strange boy.

“see? so why should it matter what my name is? just… call me whatever!”

but you’d only frowned hard enough for him to roll his eyes.

“fine then — uhm — what’s the name of the current prince?”

you’d blinked, “harry.”

“then call me that.”

“but is that your name?”

“well, now it is.”

you hadn’t been convinced but you liked it better than not calling him anything at all.

“harry, then,” you’d said, smiling. and the boy — harry — had smiled too, slipping his fox-faced mask back in place as he led you further into the forest.

03.

“y’know…” harry says, his voice light as the sun dips beneath the horizon line, leaving behind a blaze of reds and pinks. you turn your head, eyes catching on the shape of him, inked out against the dying light.

“you’re the only person i’ve ever met who’s wanted to be cursed.”

you take a long breath and turn your eyes back up to the bleeding sky.

“well. you’re cursed, and you seem just fine to me,” you try to keep your voice strong, resolute and steady. grandmama had always said that if you keep your voice strong, people are more willing to believe your words. you wonder if that’s why harry’s voice is always soft, always lilting, his words slippery as moss-covered stone.

“yeah, but you can’t even touch me,” he says, and for once, his voice is harsh, his words sharp and hard as broken glass.

“that’s okay though — once i get my own curse, i’ll be able to touch you, right?”

harry fights back the urge to turn, to take you by the shoulders and shake you till you push him away. he wants to scream, to howl at the moon like the mother wolves and the hungry cubs that live in the heart of the wood. he wants to run through the woods, crash into things, climb up the trees and shake off all their branching leaves.

but he can’t, and so he doesn’t.

instead, he turns to look at you and look at you and look at you.

he wonders if it’s a strange thing, to like looking at someone so much, to find something new about a face every single time it’s looked upon — the wisps of hair fallen loose to frame your face from the velvet ribbons holding it back, the curve of your button nose, the dip of your cupid’s bow. he wonders if this is a normal thing, the thick weight of it in this chest, the truth of his curse sitting heavy on his tongue.

“yeah… probably,” he says — and the lie is smooth as milk, sweet as just-spun sugar.

“good. then we won’t have long to wait, hm?”

04.

there’s a story, so you’ve been told, of a fox that lives in the woods — and the fox can tell nothing but lies, lest the truth cut open it’s throat. and when it bleeds, because even monsters bleed (oh especially monsters), it will bleed in blue and silver, which everyone knows is the color of magic.

“but why would telling the truth kill it?” you’d asked, your eyes wide and round as the full-bellied moon.

your grandmama had sighed, rocking you in her lap as the forest outside shivers and shakes with the steps and breaths of creatures unseen.

“that’s what curses do, my sweetest… they’re unfair things, they are. and they don’t like to make a lot of sense.”

and that had been that. she’d moved onto a nicer story, a sweeter story, a story that was not so much truth and mostly lies — because the truth, as your grandmama had said, is sharp and unfair and makes so very little sense.

lies are much, much the better for the makings of stories.

05.

he has never complimented you on your dancing, not even once — not in all the years you’ve been dancing for him, by the light of a million and one fireflies.

you’d been eight when you made the promise, it’s been ten years since then.

and at eighteen, you wonder how many more years it’ll be before the moon or the forest or whatever it is that chooses people to curse will take pity on you.

it’s just after sunset, and you’d just finished your customary sunday afternoon picnic. harry is sprawled out on the picnic blanket, his fox-faced mask lying in the soft, long grasses, an arm thrown over his eyes. you wonder if he’s asleep, though you don’t think you’ve ever seen him fall asleep, not in all the time you’ve known him.

“music, please…” you announce to the clearing, and after a long pause, as if the forest itself is coming to life, the wind picks up — the leaves rustle on their branches, the birds sweep up into a twitter wingbeats and song, the grasses around the clearing hish and hush the thrumming baseline to a music that only you and harry and the forest can hear.

slowly, harry pushes himself up, making a show of rubbing his eyes, and in the darkness you can only see the shape of him.

you don’t see the prickle of tears at the edge of his eyes as he wipes them away.

instead, you close your own eyes and wait.

and wait.

and then — at the first flicker of a firefly’s light, you lift your hands and start to dance.

06.

once, you’d asked him how he’d gotten cursed in the first place.

“it’s a long story,” he’d said.

“i’ve got a long time,” you countered.

he’d crinkled his nose, pursing his lips as the pair of you hopped over a narrow stream, him watching as you teetered on the edge of the water.

“hm… well, if you do something a ton of times in the wood… the wood decides that that’s all your good for, and it becomes your curse!”

you’d blinked up at him from over your shoulder, a soft smear of mud on your cheeks.

“oh… it’s that easy?”

“easy?”

“i mean, to get a curse.”

he’d narrowed his eyes, “why would you want a curse?”

you’d straightened up, pressing your palms down your rather sullied dress.

“because — you said that i can’t touch you cause i’m human, right?”

“uh-huh…” harry had nodded, uncertain of where your child-logic had taken you.

“but other cursed things can touch you, right? like the wolves and the shadows and the queen of ravens.”

harry bit his lips. but you seemed to have taken his silence for consent and happily skipped off further into the forest. he’d never corrected you even as he heaved another world-weary sigh and followed after you. because technically, you hadn’t been totally wrong.

and his curse was only that he couldn’t correct you.

07.

your mind wanders as you begin to dance, and these days, it’s been doing a lot of that — wandering. so your grandmama says that it’s a part of growing up — learning when to let your mind wander and when to reign it back in, hold it on a tighter leash and tell it to wander no more. it’s a blessing to be able to let your mind wander, and so you do.

it’s just that these days, you can’t help but notice that it’s less of wandering and more of… well, a straight-shot descent to a well-known destination. and you know from a whole childhood of actual wandering that if you know the way and you know what you’ll find at the end, then it’s not wandering at all.

it’s just going.

but still, you let your mind go where it wants, and lately, it’s been going and going and going... to harry.

harry and his soul-soft laughter, harry and his knife-edge smiles, harry and his loose, lethargic movements, unhurried and always so certain. back when you were both still children, he’d led you through the forest with nothing but his voice, spouting out random facts that were much too outlandish to be true, and later, when you were both a bit older (and you’d long since memorized every bit of forest there was to memorize), he’d walk alongside you in companionable silence.

you knew his favorite trees, his favorite flowers, his favorite birds and colors, his favorite season, his favorite sweet, his favorite fruit and so many others.

and still, it feels as if you don’t know him at all, even though you’re certain he knows everything there is to know about you.

except…

you spin out on the long grasses, the light of a million and one fireflies dancing across your skin, dancing with you, singing with you as the forest does. and above you, a crescent moon cuts a sinister smile into a lonely, starless night.

years later, you’d wonder if the night had known — if the wood had known (of course, of course it had known, because there are no secrets the woods do not know, no secrets the waning moon doesn’t keep from the sleeping earth), if the entire world had conspired against you and for you that night.

when you finish dancing and the last of the fireflies flicker down to rest on the long, soft grasses, you’re breathless with exertion, luminous with exaltation and drunk on the song of the forest and a million and one lightless stars.

in the middle of the clearing, harry is smiling, you can see it even from here, and for the first time since you’d danced for him the very first time, he brings his hands together and claps.

“that was… beautiful,” he says, and his voice is deeper now, supple and sweet with the night air.

“th-thanks! phew — i really think that might do it,” you say, plopping down on the picnic blanket next to him, spreading wide your arms and staring up at the velveteen sky above you.

08.

once, you’d been told another story, though you don’t quite recall who you’d heard it from. maybe your grandmama, and maybe the old man who sits in the village square after all the longest days of the year, smoking his pipe and telling his stories.

“do you know why the cursed forest creatures can’t touch humans?”

“why?” a village boy had asked before you had the chance to.

“because… if a cursed creature touches human flesh, the cursed creature will die.”

“oh…” you said, clutching your hands to your chest, and you’d never really thought about dying. because really, what ten year old in their right mind would? but you knew of the concept from when grandmama talked about grandpapa — how he was there one day and then the next day he just… wasn’t.

“he died in his sleep,” she’d said, a tone of sadness in her voice that you’d never heard there before and wished you’d never have to hear again, “it was the best way to go.”

you’d wondered then if there’s really such thing as a “best” way to go. wouldn't the “best” thing to be not going at all?

“then… do the cursed creatures get to live forever?” you asked, before the village boy could cut in.

the old man took a long sip from his pipe and blew out a few concentric rings of smokes before coughing and waving it all away.

“no… you see, if the cursed creatures get to pass on their curses, they’d get to be reincarnated into being a human once more.”

09.

“do you… really want to be cursed?” harry asks as the pair of you share in the silence after your dance.

you suck in a long breath before pushing yourself up to sit in front of him, careful to keep your knees from bumping his.

“of course i do! it’s… it’s what i’ve been trying to do since i was like — eight!”

“but… why?” and harry’s voice is small, smaller than you’ve ever heard it, even though now, his eighteen year old body should carry a much heavier, harder sound.

“because,” you say, resolute as you’d always been, “once i’m cursed, i’ll be able to touch you.”

“and why… is that so important to you?”

harry casts his eyes towards you; you catch his gaze with yours, holding it steady. and in that moment, you mind lets go of the story that the old man told you. because it was a long time ago, and the story was so, so far away. and sometimes, the mind chooses which truths it wants to listen to, which truths it wants to believe in.

sometimes, it chooses truths that don’t look like truths from the outside in, but from the inside out — they’re the truest things to ever be true.

like this one —

“because i want to touch you. because… it’s what i’ve wanted since i was a little girl. because… sometimes, i think i want to do more than touch you — sometimes —” your voice catches on a hitched breath, lost somewhere in your chest, somewhere between your heart and your throat.

but then, darkness descends over your vision and it takes you a long moment to realize that you’re staring at the inside of a mask, thin but solid — the fox-faced mask that harry always wears.

and then pressure, and warmth, right where the fox’s dagger-carved grin usually is, so close to your own lips you can feel the heat.

it holds for a long, long moment, and then it’s gone.

the light returns as harry tugs the mask from you, grinning that teasing, lopsided grin of his, though there’s something about it tonight that makes your heart seize.

“tell me, one more time…” he says, and his voice is jagged with something that sounds painful and true and so, so terrible.

“i — i want the curse…” you say, before you really realize what you’re saying, and it takes you a moment to realize that this too, is the truth.

“okay then… it’s yours.”

and he leans in to press his lips to yours.

the truth, harry realizes, is always bitter, and harsh, and much too sharp. when he pulls back, he presses his palms to yours and lets the moon wash the clearing in blue and silver. you gasp as you feel the magic creeping into your bones, tugging you under, dragging you through the cracks in the world even as harry is tugged away from you back to the world of the living.

“w-was this all a lie?” you ask, because inside you, your heart is fighting for it’s last few beats.

“no,” harry says, his voice is pained, and his expression even more so, because every truth he tells cuts him a little deeper, and he feels his throat constrict over the words, “your dance really was beautiful… and…”

he swallows hard, feeling the knife-edge of this one final truth slicing through him, sharp as moonlight, sweet as the lightless stars.

“i love you. please… don’t forget me.”

and already, you can feel the truth starting to hurt, starting to constrict inside you like a curse. but still, you force it from you as harry flickers and fades along with the light of a million and one firefly lights.

“i — i won’t.”

10.

“but how exactly do you transfer a curse?” the village boy asked, his voice loud and jarring.

the old man takes another long sip of his pipe, puffs out a few more smoke rings.

“through a kiss,” he said.

you blinked. a kiss?

“ew!” the village boy recoiled then, shrinking back from the thought of kissing — because that’s what children are taught to do at such grown-up concepts as kissing.

you, on the other hand, you stayed right where you are, but a frown has creased your tiny, child-like brow.

“and the trick,” the old man continues, his smile going wide and a little lascivious, “is getting someone who will take their curse willingly… to accept the kiss.”

01.

for as long as harry can remember, there has always been the wood. and in the wood, there’s always been a girl with a fox-painted mask who danced to the light of the fireflies.

once, when he’d gone exploring (even though his grandpapa had warned him time and time again about going into the wood by himself), he’d nearly run into her and she’d cocked her head when he’d fallen face-first near the bank of a tiny stream, smearing mud across his cheeks.

“you’re strange little boy,” the girl said — and she could be no more than his age, harry thinks.

“and you’re a weird little girl,” he counters, his eyes catching on the bright red of the fox’s painted mouth.

there is magic at work here, harry knows, though he doesn’t know what kind, and all he really wants is to explore the woods behind his house, to know all there is to know of the world, and perhaps — he thinks as you turn and make your way deeper into the forest — to one day hold the hand of the girl with the fox-faced mask.

but that’s a wish for another day, he decides as he follows after you, jogging to catch up and ask for your name.

“ah… what’s in name,” you say, you voice light and languid, even as he frowns, “you can call me whatever you like.”

02.

once, harry had asked his grandpapa what the truest feeling in the whole wide world is.

and his grandpapa had answered —

“that, harry, would be falling in love…”

“falling in love?”

“yes, my dear boy — and the thing about love is that it’s like a curse… but it’s also like a blessing.”

“but… how can a thing be a curse and a blessing?”

then, his grandpapa had smiled, a smile that is starlight and wolfsong and all the secrets the forest ever has to tell.

“because we are doomed to always, always fall in love, my boy — and it will always, always be like handing someone and knife and asking them to cut open your throat.”

#harrison gray #ikemen villains #ikevil #ikevil harrison x reader #ikevil harrison #harrison gray x reader #ikemen series #summer days sultry nights ccc #angst mcgee #floofy floof floof #uHM i refused to apologize hoLY shit you guys i fucking adore this story.#fUCK goddamnit i am so high rn on having written this u__u but like PLS dear god tell me what you thought i have SO MANY THOUGHTS AS WELL #here are some concepts that i rly fucking adored: the ease of lies and the difficulties and harshness of truths #the fact that loving someone will always be the most painful thing you'll ever do #and that sometimes a thing can both be a lie and a truth -- or a lie that becomes the truth #and GOD it is not a sin to want things because sometimes the world wants us to want things that we shouldn't want #and sometimes the world wants us to want things because there are stories carved into the grooves of the world #stories so old that the world would end before it stopped telling these stories and children have been getting lost in the woods #since the inception of humanity itself u__u and that's a story that always needs to be told #because isn't that what growing up is about? the realization that not all truths are true and not all lies are all the way lies #and that most things actually live in between? uGH #anyway u__u im emotional and tired #pls read this <3

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