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hiraeth-sonder · 4 months

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Want Nothing More

Jiyan x Reader

A quiet moment away, a reunion and a revelation long foreseen

//He finally came home it only took my sanity. Very short little decently written fic, maybe OOC also some maybe spoilers for his story quest??? Also maybe I got stuff wrong idk, this isn't beta read so like eh

The greater world is often far wider than the humble confines of a small village, much less one so tucked away. Since facing an injury that rendered you almost entirely incapable of returning to the frontlines, you quietly returned to Taoyuan Vile with hefty compensation and an arm that could not even be lifted.

Life becomes oddly quiet, with barely any danger to hold arms against nor a proper purpose back home, you take to helping in the village’s pharmacy as some way to bring order back into your daily routine. You are given more delicate work, pressing and drying herbs, sorting them for use, dealing with customers and aiding with deliveries. With the opportunity to provide, to give back, it became a sort of pride for how quick you could pick up the routine.

It works for a while, yet with this new direction, you are gradually reminded of a certain someone from all those years ago.

That boy who smelled like medicinal herbs and eyes like stars, whose face scrunched from displease whenever he caught a taste of bittberries in his food, the boy who certainly has found his path beyond medicine. There are times you blink and before you is not the current reality of him, but rather the little boy who somehow managed to find time to spend with you no matter his duties.

Memories of stolen moments, of forcing him to rest after his sending condolences to grieving family, of exercising his natural medical ability. You were younger then, with limbs like sticks and hair that stuck to your face, yet that did not discourage you from doing what you could for your friend.

You wonder how he is doing nowadays, you haven’t seen him since the day you got discharged after all.

One can only imagine your surprise when through falling pink petals and the light breeze of the wind, he appears as he did all those years ago. Still the pillar of calm and decisiveness, he looked a tad out of place compared to the lively and enthusiastic crowd of teams. By his side was a dark haired individual, looking just a little less out of place, and when two other rangers approached them, a small huff escaped you.

A repeat of that last game, who would have known that the general’s second game would have him recreating the circumstances of his first. If only with a few minor differences.

By the time the revelry and chaos dies down, the sun has long since fallen beyond the horizon. Many of the villagers are still out celebrating as the tapestry of stars stretches far past what your eyes can see. Having made the venture to the great tree that stands atop the mountain, you notice a familiar form already standing there. Beneath falling petals and illuminated by the moon’s grace, that young boy of the past has become your stalwart general.

With heavy steps, you approach him, yet stop just a few steps before his side, sitting down on the grass as you overlook the little lights of the village. He clearly notices your presence, sitting curtly, leaving an arm’s distance between your two forms.

“I didn’t think you’d take part again,” You hum, keeping your eyes away from his as you maintain your focus ahead of you.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” He shakes his head, his lips move to open just the slightest, as if wishing to say more yet unable to muster the words to say so, still they close. Jiyan manages to breathe out, “It's been a while.”

You swallow, an action that seems oddly difficult, “It has.”

As you finally muster the courage to turn towards him, you notice how his gaze seems to consider your inept arm. Perhaps a few years ago, you would have despised the way he looks at it, knowing that people only look because of pity. Nonetheless, you instinctively press that arm against you, your other hand raising to hold it.

He furrows his brow just the slightest, and in a tone so soft you must strain to hear, “I wanted to apologise for not doing more for you.”

“You’ve already done so much.” Sighing, a breath escapes you as you meet his eyes. You move closer towards him, shifting so that hand of yours, that arm that could barely lift a basket, could rest atop his arm.

Your voice cracks just the slightest, even after all this time you never manage to thank him for everything he has done for you. The compensation was far too generous for an ordinary ranger such as yourself, the immediate and efficient care you received as rehabilitation, the bundle of Pecok flowers you would see upon every morning’s awakening. You only hoped you could give him something back in return, “An arm is just an arm, if you hadn’t acted as quick as you did, maybe I would’ve lost more than that.”

Jiyan looked no more than the young man he is, in such familiar settings and under such familiar straits. Sword straight brows and the soft quirk of his lips, he never truly changed from that young boy. Your eyes trail further down, to his squared shoulders and staunch chest, how they maintain rigid and perfect poise.

Another sigh escapes you, “You’re not at work, won’t you at least untense your shoulders?”

“I’m sorry, there has been a lot going on and I didn’t think I’d end up staying here so long.”

“Don’t apologise,” You smile, then pat your lap with your hand. Sending him a nonplussed look, you can all but see the gears in his head, you can only laugh, “Humour me then.”

He does not move, his eyes widening just the slightest that to anyone else, they might have missed his brief moment of shock. You have not asked him to rest in such a manner for years, perhaps the last time was over a decade ago, so you do not blame him. Still, perhaps it was the nostalgia, perhaps it was the unveiling of sentiment, but a familiar sense of easiness takes over.

“Come on, don’t tell me great and mighty General Jiyan is too good for a break?” You raise a brow, easy teasing falling from your lips.

He is quick to deny your quip, “I never said that.” And with at first hesitancy in his very form, he finally tentatively lays his head on your lap.

The weight brings about old memories, and old feelings. How old were you when you realised that Jiyan, friend as he is, was worth far more than that to you? How old were you when you started looking forward to his little breaks just to catch a glimpse of him?

You loved him, of course you did. Who does not love their friends?

Yet this love of yours is one that is aged, one that has matured into contentment for what you had. Even as you spend your days in Taoyuan Vile, the little parts of him you see among the crooks and crannies of white walls and verdant greenery, it is enough for you. So even when he lays in your lap and closes his eyes as he did all those years ago, you are happy with what you have.

“You know, when we were younger, I used to have to convince you to rest whenever we managed to get away,” More akin to reminiscing seniors, you brush away his bangs away from his face with a gentle flick.

“Even then you were so hardworking,” You murmur.

He responds, just as quietly as your recollection, “That should be expected, I was working even then.”

“I think it was when I saw how peaceful you looked while sleeping that I realised I liked you,” Humming, you close your eyes as the wind breezes past your cheek.

As though realising what you said, a warm flush pools at the tips of your ears as you accidentally meet his eyes, “Ah…”

“Guess I said too much huh?” You laugh, the sound carried by the gentle wind. “Ignore me, I’m just saying things.”

In a rare moment of vulnerability, Jiyan reaches for you, his hand raised to keep you from looking away. Though he remains, those golden eyes tipped with scarlet bear an emotion you never thought he would hold. With just one look, just one action, he renders you incapable of moving to defend yourself.

He mutters, voice tinged with just the hint of languish, “After all these years, you’re still unwilling to tell me things.”

“Would you have wanted me to tell you?” With a raised brow, you cock your head, leaning into his palm incidentally.

“Yes.”

And that contentment, the placidity that came with the distance and time between the two of you, crumbles. For your love, a sentiment you have nurtured into something that can be tucked away, is still one that yearns for response. For his love, is one just as aged as yours, just as willing to sit in contentment and placidity. Years and years of pining that soon bred a seed of tranquillity, quietly sitting within the soil just waiting for that push to bloom.

With a soft smile, so like that boy’s and so befitting your beloved general’s visage, he avows the second half of a confession brazenly said, “Because it was when I laid in your lap that I realised that I liked you too.”

#wuthering waves #wuwa #wuwa jiyan #wuwa x reader #jiyan wuthering waves #jiyan x reader

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oxymorayuri · 25 days

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𝐶𝘩𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝟷𝟕

𝑁𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑝𝑜𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑘𝑠 »

𝑇𝑟𝑎𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑔𝑎𝑟 𝐷. 𝑊𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑟

𝐿𝑎𝑤 ✘ ♀ 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓: Khaituu

Story: The princess of Tanata

[Long Fic]

➽ Click on this link to see all chapters.

Spoiler: Clues and facts about Doflamingo, the Marines etc.

Warnings: nope

slowburn with plot

Wordcount: 3019

Text in italics emphasizes the reader’s thoughts

Bold and italic text emphasizes Law's thoughts *~*

Tagging: @slytherinambitious - @norasincubi - @cottoncandyloverrrr - @hopelesslover06 - @one-piece-frvr7 - @sassyyassi

The refreshing cold of the water lets you breathe deeply while you let your feet dip into the water. In this overgrown forest there are several mysterious places just waiting to be discovered and one of these places is the bathing spot where you are now.

An enchanting lake with a waterfall, surrounded by trees and beautiful plants... and after dark, it takes on a magical appearance in the moonlight.

On one side, there are stones of different sizes from the ground up to the waterfall, forming a natural staircase.

A little further down, you have settled on the stones by the water. With a relaxed expression on your face, you let your feet dangle in the water while Law sits next to you with his legs crossed.

Sitting in silence, you enjoy the peaceful atmosphere and the soothing sound of the waterfall. Although it is quite dangerous to be in the forest at night, this place makes you feel relaxed.

“Say, Law. I don't know why, but you seemed to know those pirates…” You ask casually, while you playfully splash your feet in the water.

You're not sure, but you could swear that something changed in his eyes when he saw the ship. Something angry appeared in them.

Law's gaze was fixed on your side profile while your gaze was directed towards the water. His eyes shimmering somewhat indefinable, as if he carefully formed every word in his head before speaking it.

“I know many pirates.” you turn your face to him, your head automatically follows his deep voice.

“And I know these pirates too.” He finishes his sentence with more intensity

Law's gaze is cold and he seems to be mulling over a decision, crossing his arms. The black haired man closes his eyes and you can clearly see that he is deep in thought.

For a moment, Law is confused by the fact, that he is weighing up what to tell you, and it makes no sense to him either.

She'll never know anyway.

Law doesn't think you'll ever leave this holy land. Why would he tell you about him? About his past and his plans… That's not necessary.

When he got his thoughts back together, he opened his eyes and you waited tensely, your ears on full alert as he moved his lips.

"They call themselves the Donquixote Pirates and their leader is a dreadful man. Perhaps the devil."

“Do you know him?” Maybe he could have useful information, you think. You notice the barely visible, thoughtful look on Law's face again, and what followed was a lot of information about the one called Don Quixote de Flamingo.

Law told you many things about his crew, their strengths and, last but not least, about their leader Doflamingo, who also happens to rule a whole country.

Law's story makes it clear that Doflamingo is an evil man, and looking back, you can confirm this yourself.

One small detail, however, immediately comes to mind. Law seems obsessed with the subject of Don Quixote de Flamingo. Not in a passionate or aggressive way.

It's quite subtle, but Law seems very well informed about this devil and his followers. The way he talks about his activities and his evil regime in the country called Dress Rosa reveals, that he has a special interest in it.

You would like to ask him. You wonder if there is something behind your thoughts, but you hesitate and in the end no question comes over your lips. You'd rather leave it at that.

“He really sounds like a devil.” - “And the worst thing is that he has a kind of immunity thanks to the Marines and the World Government.” You frown in confusion.

“The Marines? But isn't he a pirate?” Of course you don't know much about the world outside, but your father and his friends never mentioned anything like that.

“The Marines are the protectors of the law, aren't they?” You are puzzled. What business do the Marines have with pirates?

The corners of Law's mouth turn up into an amused grin. You know nothing about the world and even if that makes you a little naive in his eyes, he knows that it's not your fault. Maybe he envies you, for not knowing the true, ugly face of the world out there.

You live in a prosperous, beautiful and loving city where you lack for nothing. Law himself has only a few happy moments to remember. He can understand that you are so desperate to explore the world out there, but he wouldn't recommend it.

“You've got the marine and the way they do justice terribly wrong, Princess-ya.” His serious tone makes you tense.

He explains the dark side of the Marines, which surprises you deeply. He speaks of events which are changing the image of the Marines. For example, there are a few pirates who are allies of the Marines.

In return for being mobilized by the Marine in case of emergency to serve the world government, they are allowed to get away with several corrupt things.

"They are called Shichibukai, the Seven Warlords of the Sea." - “That's not right!” You are outraged and confused by Law's indifferent look. What Law tells you about the Marines does not sound like justice.

"That's intentional abuse of power!" That's not right. That's the greed for control. You are shocked by your new knowledge, and the need to break the system arises.

“Something has to change!” Law looks at you with emptiness in his eyes as your eyebrows twitch with anger.

He sure likes the determination in your eyes and if he's honest, he had already thought about how some of your skills could be useful for his own plans, but would you like his methods?

You only know him as Law, the doctor who is a pirate, but what you don't know is, that he is a man with blood on his hands whose methods are also considered to be quite cruel.

In contrast, your entire being is like an oasis of peace that reaches for something greater. His eyes drift down slightly as he gazes at your face.

Would you despise me if you knew me, or would you understand?

However, Law himself doesn't think you would ever join him, so he quickly dismisses his question.

“The world is changing all the time. There are a lot of good people and others who are fighting against those in the shadows. For example, there is the Revolutionary Army, which is fighting against the world government and the Marines." He leans back and crosses his arms behind his head. His gaze is directed upwards, towards the dense leaves of the surrounding trees and the night sky that peeks through.

"However, their mission is a complicated process and takes time.” You listen to him attentively like a little girl listening to a bedtime story. Not a good bedtime story, obviously, but that's beside the point.

You can't help but smile as you lean back and support yourself on your hands.

“You know a lot.” His level of knowledge is impressive, but on the other hand, you are a little embarrassed. What if it's all basic knowledge?

“Knowledge is power.” A proud smile adorns his face. Law's posture is so confident that you blush slightly.

"You're right." it leaves your lips as if hypnotized by the dazzling sight of him.

You shake your head briefly, it's not your intention to stare at him like that. The heat in your face is a bit unbearable and you sheepishly avoid eye contact.

You keep concentrating on the pleasant feeling in the water and wiggle your feet. The water is crystal clear and a little cool, but not too chilly that you wouldn't like going in. Since it is a tropical climate here in the forest, this water is nice and refreshing.

Going for a swim to think about things would be the perfect distraction right now...

Finding out that the pirates are back and are even worse people than you thought is pretty overwhelming… Swimming on your back and looking at the starry sky would be just the perfect thing for you right now.

You don't seem to care that Law is with you. It's not that you've forgotten about him, but you don't think it might be strange. Surely he's seen a woman in a bikini before, right?

Law's gaze rests on you as you rise. You smile at him over your shoulder as you drop your fancy cloak on the floor and Law looks at you, a little confused.

He doesn't say a word as you take off your dress, silently eyeing your beautifully chiseled body. Except for your underwear, you have undressed completely and with slow steps you walk into the pleasant cold of the water.

Law is clearly captivated by your flawless skin and well shaped figure. The clothes you're wearing already reveal your female beauty, but he couldn't have imagined how magnificent your curves are.

When your bottom disappears into the water, he wakes up from his little erotic fantasy and sits up again with a sudden jolt.

Slowly you turn around, your cheeks a little flushed and a small smile, which seems innocent in contrast to your luscious body, shines down on Law.

Law's confusion causes you to look questioningly at him, he looks unable to understand the picture in front of him.

Is it because I have undressed?

Maybe Law has some split feelings about you exposing yourself to him as a princess, but is it that much different from a bikini?

Somewhat ashamed, you cross your arms in front of your chest and lower your upper body under the water. Normally you're not ashamed of your body, but being looked at like this by Law makes you feel a bit weird.

“Don't you feel weak at all?” Law eyes you skeptically. Your eyebrows go up, you don't quite know what he means. Apart from the shame, you feel great.

“No why?”

Law straightens up and examines the water. He thinks for a moment before looking up at you again.

“Devil fruit users can't swim and…” As he tells you this, it comes straight to you.

“Ahhh yes that!” A little excited, you walk over to him, this will surely blow his mind and he looks down at you expectantly.

“Would you like to swim again?” you ask him, as if you would fulfill his every wish in exchange for his soul.

“You can do that?!” His eyes widen dramatically.

With a cheerful smile, you nod silently at him.

"How?" He's been surprised by you over and over again since day one, and now you come up again and tell him you could neutralize the greatest weakness of devilfruit users?

"With time." Your smile holds something mysterious and Law is sure he is completely unaware of the extent, how your power can be used.

“I can't fix it forever and I can't use it for long but I can make sure you swim in the water with me for a few minutes.” You look a little furtively at the stunned Law. Hopefully that wasn't too forward, but you inwardly pray to the gods that they will let you see Law's naked torso.

Without saying anything, Law hastily takes off his clothes. He can't refuse the offer. At the sight of his body, you dive further into the water so that only your eyes are above the surface and no one can see your red cheeks, but you can't miss the sight of him and literally stare at him.

Your eyes wander up his body to his face while he stands in front of you in just his boxer shorts. Ready for what comes next, he spreads his arms wide in anticipation.

"I'm ready to go." He says a little excitedly. It's been ages since he's been swimming, so he wants to feel that floating sensation in the water again, as soon as possible..

You realize that you need to get a little closer to him, so you walk in his direction. You leave the water, the droplets roll down your skin and the fine fabrics of your underwear stick nicely to your body.

Law's gaze unintentionally goes to your breasts, he can see your nipples through the wet fabric but his eyes quickly look to the side.

You've finally regained your confidence and giggle a little into your hand. His look was very obvious.

“When did you eat the devil fruit?” - “That was a long time ago. Back when I was a child." You swallow a little, the further you have to go into the past, the harder it gets and, more importantly, the more physical contact you need...

You take a deep breath and get out of the water to stand in front of him.

Law's body tenses the closer you get to him. Your skin glistens in the soft moonlight and as you wrap your arms around him, he flinches slightly. He is a little surprised and doesn't move.

The fact that you hug him out of nowhere, dressed only in your underwear, is a little uncomfortable, but his heart beats a little faster. You feel the same way but it's the next best thing, another option would be a kiss on the lips and the thought alone could make your head explode.

You notice how stiff his posture is, his arms hang motionless at his sides as you give him a gentle hug.

You bury your head lightly in his neck to prevent him from seeing your red face.

“Hey, it's a bit weird when you don't return the hug…” you whisper sheepishly.

Law swallows a little at your words and wakes up from his paralysis. Carefully, he brings his hands to your body, slowly, as if one wrong move would shatter your bones.

His hand on your cool, wet skin leaves you feeling a sense of exhilaration. With your chest close to his torso, he pulls you a little closer so that you can feel his warmth even more. The blush on your cheeks should have already moved to your ears, since Law has found the perfect spot to hold you with his hands.

Without saying another word, you stand in a tight and rather intimate embrace, both feeling a little awkward.

You would like to enjoy the embrace, but firstly you are too excited and secondly you need to concentrate on something else…

Slowly and evenly, you let your strength flow from your whole body into Law's. Thousands of images flicker before your eyes at extreme speed. You can barely make out a single detail, as the images are gone faster than they appear to be there.

You instinctively search for the day Law ate the devil fruit. You are getting warmer by every second, your underwear is drying and some steam is enveloping you as you run hot like a machine but you don't even feel it. Law is the one who notices and observes every little change in you. So far, nothing seems to change for him except the crazy feeling in his chest as your soft skin sticks to his skin...

Your skin on his is unexpectedly pleasant, even if he doesn't like want to admit but because you're standing half naked in front of him, he's forced to feel your feminine charms....

Damn you and your arousing body! he curses to himself as he banishes a few lewd images from his mind.

When you finally reach the moment, you go a little further before he eats the devil fruit and stop the time.

"Okay Law, I'm done." Your voice is a soft whisper to his ears and your bodies separate.

You lead the way and walk slowly into the water, watching him over your shoulder. You have to suppress a giggle as Law stands rather unsure of himself in the shallow water. He slowly continues and follows you.

He pays close attention to the familiar symptoms when he enters the water, but they do not occur.

The water is already up to his chest and bewilderment is written all over his face, while you float around him on your back. He dives down and allows the water to embrace him completely. There is no trace of the oppressive, dragging down feeling he usually has. A miracle.

“How do you do that?” he asks you, slightly stunned. He can't quite understand how you manipulate time in him like that, without him getting any younger?

"I always thought that this would only work if I turned back into a child." - “You have to understand it like this; your entire body, every cell, every vein and muscle stores this moment. It's also a memory for your body, you know?” He follows your words attentively as he floats carefree in the water.

"It's already enough if I take this particular memory from your blood…" His eyes look at you in disbelief.

“So that means that the blood of my childhood self is flowing inside me? When I hadn't eaten the devil fruit yet?!” - “Correct.”

Overwhelmed, Law looks up at the stars and mumbles something about it being unbelievable. You giggle a little, as he looks like he's been blown away.

You carefully watch him as he floats on his back with his eyes closed. He enjoys the weightlessness and the refreshing water. You can well understand him, after all, you also ate the fruit as a small child and as a child you were literally considered a little mermaid!

Being able to swim is actually not a known technique, you discovered it purely by chance as a child when you wished you hadn't eaten the devil fruit and just jumped into the water.

It was a happy accident, you could say.

“How are you doing, Princess-ya? Are your powers waning?” He asks you. You're flattered that he's worried about you, but you try extra hard to make sure this moment doesn't pass so quickly...

Hey babes, I hope you liked it :3

With love, your yuri

➽ Next chapter (Not available yet)

#trafalgar d water law #trafalgar one piece #one piece #law x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar law x oc #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgardwaterlaw #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom #one piece fanfiction #one piece fandom #trafalgar law

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angeart · 6 months

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hhau mimic arc rambles - part I

(~3k words)

One of the hybrid races is a mimic/changeling, a shapeshifter that can take the appearance of another person. They are the most likely to live in relative peace, as they can trick their way into looking human, but they live in constant fear, as one single slip-up can mean their death.

There is another fate for a found-out mimic, though, and that is being used by hunters, as a lure for other hybrids. If the mimics want to live, they have to do what the hunters say, and bring prey that dies in their stead.

At a time when Grian and Scar stumble upon a mimic, they’re already kind of notorious in this world – a vex with a kill count and a rare violet-winged avian, greatly desired by hunters for trophies and rewards. (There are wanted posters and everything.)

Now, our mimic for this story arc is one that is being used by hunters, and has been used by them for quite a while. But now he’s posed with the reality of Scar and Grian, two hybrids who have managed to escape hunters for so long, and— He thinks maybe, maybe he could swap his place with Grian. Maybe he could take that safe spot by Scar’s side, this vex who has killed his pursuers before, clearly capable of defending both himself and his avian. If the mimic could take Grian’s place, he could be protected. He could get away—

He is sent in as a lure, but he decides to take his fate into his own hands. (For better or worse.)

The mimic finds an opportunity when Scar and Grian are slightly separated, and ambushes Grian. Doses him with weakness potions (he needs him quiet and still), copies his look, and hides him in a ditch under a pile of leaves. He uses maybe one too many potions, because Grian wouldn’t stop trying to move (he’s so so so terrified), but he also makes sure to take the time to hide him properly. (He doesn’t really want to sacrifice anyone to the hunters anymore—but he also knows where to go looking if this fails and he needs to make a sacrifice anyway.)

The mimic finds Scar, and tries to lure him in a different direction. (Away from Grian. Away from the hunters.) Scar instantly knows something is wrong; he knows Grian’s face by heart, and this isn’t a perfect copy. It’s too clean. Freckles slightly wrong. There are no deep bruises under Grian’s eyes from sleepless nights, no wear from countless tears that Scar’s vigilantly brushed away.

But it does look like Grian. It sounds like Grian, afraid and pleading and vulnerable.

Scar’s so hopelessly weak to it, so lost, so conflicted.

So while Scar asks where the real Grian is, he has next to no cards in his hands for this bargain. He can’t threaten violence, because he isn’t capable of it, not against a Grian-lookalike. All he has is despereate pleas, hands trembling, heart panicking, and eyes filling with tears.

The mimic is reluctant to release answers, clinging to the charade. He needs Scar to believe he is Grian, to protect him. To take him safely away from here. (But that ship’s sailed.) (He screwed up.) But if Scar won’t take him away from here— well, then the hunters are going to kill him. He’s terrified, and it isn’t even an act.

Two different kinds of honest, open desperations clash, and a deal is made.

Scar promises he’ll protect the mimic. Not only until he has Grian back, but after that, too. (He recognises the mimic is just scared. He’s a hybrid in distress, just like them.) It’s a heavy promise, but worth it if the cost is Grian’s life.

They go back to Grian, barely conscious but safely buried under leaves, and Scar immediately gathers him in his arms, relieved and reassuring, holding on. Lifting him up (something he’s intimately familiar with now; carrying Grian’s weight is so easy and natural to him at this point), he notes that they need to go. They – all of them, including the mimic.

The mimic trails after them like a cleaner version of Grian, holding himself timidly and one step behind, like a lost puppy. He’s relieved he wasn’t left to die; that the promise really holds. That despite everything, Scar is still willing to help him.

The situation that follows is difficult for everyone involved.

Once the weakness wears off, Grian is very unhappy with the circumstances. He’s willing to deal with the situation, because Scar gave a promise, and Grian wants Scar to be able to keep his promises. They’re in it together. They’ll see it through.

That doesn’t mean he isn’t unnerved and uneasy about this whole thing. Mainly because the mimic still looks like Grian. He’s anxious at every little interaction Scar has with the mimic. Watching and waiting, for the moment when the line blurs. For the possibility of Scar not being able to tell them apart.

Scar can tell them apart, so innately and intuitively. There’s a difference to their words. To the way they hold their wings. To the way they reach for him, the way they apply pressure with their touch. The way they say his name. (Grian always puts so much in just Scar’s name.) (It’s more timid and unfamiliar on mimic’s tongue.) But he can still tell that Grian is uncomfortable with this arrangement. He sees the way Grian goes withdrawn and quiet. He doesn’t like it.

The mimic tries to understand their dynamic, and he finds himself jealous and confused, something in him aching. He sees the way Scar cares for Grian, the ease with which he provides reassurances and affection, and he hurts to have a sliver of that too.

But Scar is kind to him. He’s gentle and soft. The mimic doesn’t remember last time anyone came close to caring about him, and this staggers him to no end. Touch-starved and desperate, he quickly finds himself craving for more.

There is a lot of missteps that happen. And a handful of things that go right.

The mimic grew up in this world, and is much better at scavenging and recognising safe food and hidden cracks in terrain for possible shelter. He helps out whenever he can, eager to please, wishing so much to be able to at least somehow return the favour.

And yet when Grian and Scar curl up for the night, he’s still alone, on the sidelines. He looks on with so much painful yearning, but also knows that it’s not his place. It will never be his place. He’ll never get to know how that feels like.

He can’t slot into that place that Grian gets to have. He knows, viscerally, that if push came to shove, he wouldn’t be the one Scar’d save, between him and Grian. They are letting him stay, but he’s disposable.

He understands.

Or— he thinks he understands, anyway.

(He really wishes to be Grian.) (He isn’t, he can’t be.) (He— who is he, though?)

Over time, as he realises they aren’t going to chase him away at any second, he grows bolder and more curious. He’s more at ease with his wings than Grian is, not having the burden of associated trauma. They’re clean and brilliant, and they brush against Scar so very easily. He seeks out his presence often, feeling the safest when he’s next to Scar’s side—a spot that was never meant to be his.

Grian watches, and he wonders. He wonders if this other version of him isn’t better for Scar. Without panic attacks and inaccessible wings and soul torn-apart by wounds that bleed through so easily. This version of him capable of getting them dinner and recognising hunters’ traps from a distance.

He wants to ask Scar again, if he wouldn’t be better off without him.

He asked him once, all the way at the start, back when they found each other in this horrible world. He told Scar to leave. And Scar said, never.

And yet. Here Grian is, wondering again.

On top of all of this, there’s also a ribbon incident, one which I will write separate rambles about. Or maybe a oneshot fic. We’ll see which way my hand slips. What you need to know about it, though, is that it results in the mimic adjusting his appearance.

And oh boy. Does that open a whole another can of worms.

The mimic can’t change his appearance completely at will. He can borrow, and steal, and, well, adjust, to a degree.

The adjustments he makes, when asked to stop looking like Grian’s exact copy, are—

Make his hair slightly darker than Grian’s.

And—

Make his wings dull brown.

(you can see how that looks like here)

This is a big deal, in a world where Grian’s wings are a beacon and a burden and his greatest source of fears and insecurities. To see his look-alike take that vulnerability and overwrite it so easily, strip it down and turn it into something muted and unassuming. Take the cursed wings and twist them into something much more safer, when he himself can’t do a damn thing about them— He isn’t sure how to deal with it. How to bear having this display rubbed into his face every day. How to swallow down the building nausea and the ever-increasing doubts.

This mimic is a better version of him.

Scar would be so much safer with him, instead of with Grian. Grian and his wings that attract trouble and enemies and—surely, inevitably—death.

He has a front-row seat to what it could look like, if only his feathers were different. But he’s powerless to change them. He just grows more upset with them, with himself, with what he is. (A burden a burden a burden.) (Going to get Scar killed.)

So, quietly, Grian withdraws further.

This all amounts to: the mimic grows attached to Scar, and craves some form of love and safety, in a world that was only ever scary and hurtful to him. But through this all, him and Grian never really build a bond. That’s not to say there aren’t good moments between them. But the missteps outweigh them. It’s all too complicated. Too stifling. There’s no easy way to untangle it or fix it.

They carry on like this for a while, but it’s clear this isn’t working. It’s clear to Scar, because he can see that this hurts Grian. And he feels helpless, because he doesn’t quite know how to fix this. All he knows is he needs Grian to be okay. And his gentle reassurances and soft affection and tight hold at night? They aren’t enough.

So one night, they talk.

Scar asks if it isn’t working. And Grian shakes his head to dismiss it, even though clearly it isn’t working. He’s reluctant to say he wants it to be just the two of them again. That he can’t bear the sight of this other version of himself, interacting with Scar with such ease, earning softness from him. Imagining what it would be like to be replaced. He just doesn’t want it to be like this. He can’t stand it. But he doesn’t want to forsake another hybrid. He knows how scared the mimic is. How harsh this world is. How unforgiving. So how can he say any of it?

Scar doesn’t force him to explain any of it. He takes the scraps Grian gives him, and lets them be enough.

Quietly, in the depth of night, they throw around a tentative suggestion. Maybe they could leave the mimic somewhere safe? Maybe that would be the best course of action? To keep Scar’s promise and to stop them from falling apart? It feels like it might be something to consider. But it’s late and they’re tired, and maybe they should think on it some more. They leave it hanging on a fragmented, bitter hope with a maybe.

The mimic, curled up on the floor with his back to them, wide awake, hears all of this.

He can’t go back to being alone, fending for himself. He’ll get captured again. He’ll get killed. But more than that, he can’t stand the idea of losing that gentleness Scar steadily provides. He doubts he’d be able to survive on his own in a cold, cruel world without anyone looking out for him, and he doesn’t know how to live without that scrap of kind softness. Shared evening meals and sprinkled laughter and fleeting touches. Someone to talk to. A hand to hold when afraid.

He doesn’t know how to be without those things anymore.

So he makes a plan. Terrified and desperate and sick to his stomach, but finding himself cornered and at a dead end. He’s grasping at straws. He’s—

He’s going to make this work.

He won’t be abandoned. He won’t be discarded. He won’t be left to die.

Once they fall asleep, the mimic copies Grian’s look. Properly copies it. Every bruise and scratch. Every freckle and misaligned feather. And he tucks it away for later. Waits for his chance, for Grian to be out of sight.

He still has a couple of weakness potions on hand.

All it takes is one moment. One moment of Grian being on his own.

The mimic drops weakness on Grian—a lot of it. He incapacitates him properly, hastily steals the ribbon and the cloak, and then he sneaks up on Scar and uses another weakness. This time just one, before ducking away.

His little plan whirring to life, the mimic shifts to his perfect Grian copy and approaches from a different side. He drops to his knees, frantically asking Scar if he’s okay. Convincing him that the mimic tried to ditch them, he saw him running away and they need to move in case he went to snitch to the hunters. He sounds terrified. Playing the perfect role of Grian in distress.

He’s using everything he learned from watching Grian—all the things Scar used to so easily, so naturally tell them apart. Voice inflections and touch pressure and the way Grian holds his wings, all of it. Pushing fear and urgency into his voice, constantly calling Scar’s name, checking on him, asking if he is okay, if he can walk, insisting in a panic-pitch that they need to go.

He sounds so so afraid. (He sounds Grian-afraid—Grian is terrified of hunters.) He’s begging Scar to move. He knows it’s hard, he knows, but please please Scar, try anyway.

Scar is dizzy and sick and confused from the potion, head foggy, too sluggish to think. He’s correct in a guilt-riddled realisation that the mimic betrayed them, but completely wrong as to how the mimic betrayed them. (He tells “Grian” that he’s glad he’s safe. He’s sorry for trusting the mimic. He’s sorry this happened. He trails off. Everything’s spinning.)(Grian is panicking and Scar is so weak to seeing him like this. He listens. He does his best to stand up. To reassure. To help. To go, go, go.)

The mimic swallows the guilt, the raw, bitter awfulness of what he’s doing. And, desperate to put enough distance between them and the real Grian, so that Grian could never trace them, never find their way back to them, to never shatter his lie, he leads Scar deeper and deeper into the forest.

And oh, he’s doing such a good job of pretending to be Grian. Even if Scar is dazed, perception hazy and thoughts unstable. The mimic is stellar in his performance this time, not leaving space for doubt. (Grian’d hate that he has him copied so awfully well.) (And oh, wasn’t he always afraid this would happen? Wasn’t he terrified that one day, Scar won’t be able to tell them apart—?)

Grian didn’t get the courtesy of being pulled into a ditch and covered up by leaves this time. He was left lying in the open, bright wings helplessly sprawled, unable to do anything. (There was no time—) He’s scared for Scar, not knowing if he’s okay. He’s terrified of the forest and his own utter defencelessness. He’s lowkey having a panic attack, but his body is too numb to do anything about it.

The potions don’t wear off completely yet when he’s found and attacked.

Weak and sluggish and stumbling, and so very alone, he scrambles to fight for his life.

On the mimic’s side, a week or two pass, filled with him sneaking diluted weakness into Scar’s water supply, to keep him slightly dazed just enough so that Scar doesn’t look at him too closely. And they keep going, further and further away. Scar doesn’t know why he’s still feeling so weak and off. He isn’t sure where they’re going, either. He thinks Grian seems anxious, as if they were possibly being pursued (not an outlandish idea at all, in this world), and Scar doesn’t quite know how to unknot his own guilt about this whole situation. (Oh if only he knew, right?) So he goes, because going is all they’ve done these months anyway. Constantly on the run. Constantly hiding.

But the weakness runs out.

Scar is finally feeling clearheaded again, and he’s so relieved. He will be able to pull his weight now, take some of the burden off Grian. They’re okay. They’re okay and—

One wrong reaction. One misunderstood question. One anxious, scared, paranoia-riddled heart jumping too fast. That’s all it takes.

One wretched apology.

One pause.

One small, shaky, uncertain “... Grian?” Begging to be wrong.

The possibility is snaking its way into Scar’s brain and he's terrified.

It’s been days. It’s been days since they ran away from the mimic. It— Surely, Scar is wrong here?

Scar’s fingers brush over Grian’s earwings. He’s not allowed to touch them. Grian wouldn’t let him. Grian—his Grian—would spiral into panic at the lightest touch against any of his feathers. And—

And this isn’t his Grian.

Anger, fear, hopelessness. Pointless apologies. Questions Scar isn’t sure he wants to know the answer to. (He needs to know.) (He needs to—) (Where is Grian?)

“We left him behind.”

We.

Scar wants to argue there’s no we, but… It’s true, isn’t it? They both did.

They left Grian behind. Days ago. Alone and without supplies. In a world that desires nothing more than to slaughter him.

Anger topples into despair. Scar feels like he’s losing himself, vex magic thrumming through his veins, wild and uncontrollable. Nails shift into claws. He’s ready to tear this wretched world apart if it’d mean Grian is safe—if it’d mean Grian is alive.

Reaching out, Scar yanks the stolen ribbon off mimic’s wrist. He grabs the cloak and pulls it off of him. (He needs to return them.) (Where is Grian where is Grian where is Grian)

Not knowing which direction to go, Scar goes anyway.

The mimic doesn’t follow.

--------------

find more in the hhau au masterpost>> here

#hhau #mimic arc #as promised! the rambles!#pART ONE!#yes there's more to come #and me and link might eventually compile some oneshots for this too #for all the skimmed over details

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jakelinestradlin · 12 days

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Tag yourseld where your Mars take place in your birth chart ♥ Mine is on Scorpio ♥

Aries Mars

Rawness. A strong grip. Tugging a lock of hair when it gets too much. A thin line between pain and pleasure. Nails scratching down a back because of frustration. A build up. Taunts. Deliberately causing arguments because make-up sex with you feels so good. Will you take the bait? Sex feeling new each time. A fast rhythm. Confidence. Advancing towards you. Feeling protective over you. An urge to KO anyone who looks at you for more than 2 seconds. Warrior urges instigated. Persistence got me this far in life, let me show you how it works for me.

Taurus Mars

Pressure. A slow burning warmth that licks up the body. We have all the time in the world. Every part of the body exposed to a kiss, a touch, a breath of air. Flickering of orange flames in a fireplace. A feeling of pure, unabashed sensuality when naked. Coolness of air which brushes the hairs on the back of the neck. Rooted in sexual energy. Slow and steady wins the race. Scented massages. Starting at the base of the neck. Feeling strength. Resilience. Flavored condoms. Drunk on your love. How is it possible you taste sweeter every time? The smooth column of the throat. The shadows a sunset causes dancing. Seduction is like art to me, let me paint you a masterpiece.

Gemini Mars

Curiosity. Curiosity killed the cat, but the cat had nine lives. Opening up to try different things. Trying to do too many things at once. Falling on the floor so we stay there. A combination of arms and legs. Head cocked to one side. Observing you from a different angle. Slanted eyes. A feeling of pressure that’s quick but growing in acuteness. Busy hands. Roaming fingers. Lights on or off it doesn’t matter. I can still picture you. In my mind. With my eyes closed. You’re a permanent imprint on my psyche. My desire resides on the mental plane. Whispering all the things I want to do to you. Biting an ear lobe. Wanting to learn about every inch of your body. Tell me your fantasies and watch how fast I bring it to you in real time.

Cancer Mars

Baby. But I can take control. It depends how I feel. An emotionally charged touch. Hearts in sync. A vivid imagination. Role-playing. Wearing that outfit, I know has that effect on you. Playing coy. If I’m feeling sad, I might insist we stay wrapped in each other’s arms, just for a while. Is that OK? A stormy kind of desire. Waking up to kisses. Not wanting to sleep because this moment is all I ever dreamed of. This feels like home. Checking in with you. A sensitive kind of love. Hold me tight. So tight I can’t breathe. Only then will it feel right. TLC. Crying before, during and after sex. I can’t help it. A sudden wave of desire, greedy in nature. Strong feelings of lust. My fervor for you is bottomless, this is but a small representation of its total expression.

Leo Mars

Doing it in the mirror so I can show you how beautiful you look. Don’t be shy. Rose petals on the bed. Even more rose petals on the floor. I Wanna perform for you. An effortless performance, start to finish. This is what you signed up for. Let me deliver my end of the deal. Pride in the bedroom. Forgetting about past lovers. At the moment of release, saying my name soothes the lion inside that bares it’s teeth when you’re underneath me. Aggression. Feeling royal together. Round one barely took the edge off. Leaving my mark on you. The bedroom feels like a hunting ground. Running isn’t an option. Pleasure in all its forms. Can you tame the beast?

Virgo Mars

Acting reserved in public but it’s a different story behind closed doors. Who knew? Not afraid to get dirty with you. Voyeurism. Less stress. Surrendering to pleasure and not feeling guilty for it. Peace with the imperfection of this ritual. Perfection out of the window. Lust making a direct entrance, front and center. Tasting you. And then kissing you. Tasting us. Fresh sheets. Getting equally turned on watching you get dressed vs watching you get undressed. When we’re done, cleaning you as an act of service. Submission. A routine that brings order to a chaotic life. If I tell you how crucial this is to my well-being, will you look down on me?

Libra Mars

Fluid. Fluidity in our movements. You first, then me. Close your eyes if you like. There’s no rush. I like being here with you. Who said romance was dead? Wants and desires expressed with you in mind. Sleepy sex. In the throes of passion, you still look like a masterpiece. Can’t get enough. Delicate petals of a rose. Instinctively knowing how to get you off. Licking my lips. And then licking you down there. Playing with you with finesse. How does this feel? Dressing up, just for you. A breathy sigh released in the crook of the neck. Scented candles. Not knowing where each other begins and ends. Not caring. A true union of souls. Sharing this helps me to forget about inner turmoil, if only for a little while.

Scorpio Mars

Enticement. Pupils full and unblinking. Space between us lasts for a second. Who are we kidding? Sharing oxygen. Sucking on your bottom lip. Eyes on me. That’s not a request. Wanting to watch you fall apart. A wet trail left by a tongue. Those kinds of toys. Do you trust me? Show me how much. Fingers pressed into the skin, hard. A ghostly handprint on the skin flashes on the surface of the skin for a heartbeat. Teeth tease the throb of a pulse point. Blood rushing. Be brave enough to discover the intensity of my feelings and be sucked under. Only to rise up in levels in consciousness of a spiritual plane. Love is transformational. I’m willing to show you what you do to me. Don’t run.

Sagittarius Mars

Free rein. Sex with the possibility of being exposed. Down for whatever. Bluntness. Desires expressed with no shame. A finger over the lips. Playing to win. Feeling energized when rolling around the sheets. Nothing is off limits. Fantasies coming true. No strings attached. Watch me do you. Laughter as foreplay. Relax with me. You may have tried this position before but with me it’s different. Let’s get physical. A work out. Kissing you to muffle your screams. Messy hair. Messy sheets. How did this end up in the bed? Mundane details of life losing their importance when we’re together. Feeling the strength coursing through the thighs. I would risk getting caught with you.

Capricorn Mars

A hand on your waist in public, a hand on your throat in secret. Trust me, it feels better when you wait. Limits pushed. Burning up. Debauchery. I won’t tell. It’s our little secret. Experience is a turn on. Standards are a turn on. A sense of control. Mastery. I know this game in and out. Sex is all about power at the end of the day. Soft bristles of a whip, barely brushing the spine. I know how to do this with my eyes closed. How do you feel about blindfolds? Vulnerability. Replaying these moments, we share in inappropriate places. Seductive e-mails. Legs pressed tightly together. Having power over you is an accolade I hold close to my heart, not something I take for granted.

Aquarius Mars

Electric. Electricity when our fingers touch. Permission to be one’s free, authentic self. A non-judgement zones. Non-physical forms of affection. I’m open to trying something new with you. Inviting other people into the picture but only you can make me feel this way. Incorporating technology to add a new flavor. Feeling closer to you in group sex. Conversations intermingling within the very act of sex. Noses brushing against each other faintly. Deep eye-contact feels orgasmic. Hearing soft vibrations in the air before you feel it. Swirling galaxies. My thoughts are consumed by you nowadays, but I’m OK with that.

Pisces Mars

Altered states of consciousness. The bliss that comes when feeling wholly accepted. Complete adoration. Eyes locked. A desire to merge together. Skinny-dipping under the cloak of the night. Who cares if we get caught. No restrictions. A transcendent experience. Artistic nudes. A photo album on my phone. Dedicated to you. Boundaries teased. Biting my lip to control myself but failing. Kisses on the forehead. Reverence. I can morph into whoever you want me to. Kissing you, but my eyes are open. Moments of silence. Desires expressed without words. The sweetest dreams. Every time feels like a little death, only to be reborn again.

#zodic signs #mars rules energy = sex

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spiderlandry · 1 year

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soft place to land — rotxo

Description: Rotxo thought he had more time to finalize his plan on how he’ll court you. But as he saw you sneaking off with Neteyam to fly on his ikran, he couldn’t help but think he may be too late.

Pairing: Rotxo x GN!Reader (Metkayina)

Warnings/Tags: jealousy, misunderstandings, angst, fluff, mentions of parent death (not reader’s), neteyam being a wingman, neteyam being flirty but they’re just a couple of besties

Word Count: 4.1k

Author’s Note: rotxo my sweet boy <333 included my own hcs about his family situation in this one

At the edge of the forest of Awa’atlu sitting on a rock, you and Neteyam sat shoulder-to-shoulder watching the eclipse. Though you’ve been trying to convince him to make more friends and get out there, he always found his way back to you.

“I swear,” you watched the tides crash against the shore. “I never took you for the shy type.”

“I am not shy,” Neteyam quipped. “I just like being alone.”

“Would you like me to leave?”

His head snapped in your direction, his mouth beginning to scowl until he realized you were smirking. “You’ve been a good teacher. You deserve to reap the rewards by being in my presence,” he laughed as you shoved him, careful not to do it too hard that he fell off.

The truth was Neteyam was drawn to you because of your nurturing nature. He would never outright tell you, but it was something that he sought in people—a calmness he sensed in your soul. Yet, you entertained his little teases with just the right amount of sarcasm. He knew he wanted to be your close friend on the first day you helped teach his family about the Metkayina way of life. You accepted him almost immediately, even after he gained a few stern looks from you when he started teasing you about a certain someone a bit too soon.

That certain someone being Rotxo. On that first day, Neteyam said he noticed the way you stared, which you followed up with a concerned, is it really that obvious?

The answer, it was only obvious to Neteyam because he went through the same thing back home. When he told you this, you were able to read the solemn look on his face and he opened up about the woman waiting for him in the forest, the one he was beginning to court before they were forced to seek uturu. You both bonded over the pain of belonging to someone you couldn’t be with at that moment.

You’ve been best friends since then.

Neteyam sighed, idly fidgeting with his hands. “I miss home.”

“I know,” you whispered, unable to provide further comfort than a pitiful patting of his back. “You should tell me more about it.”

“I’ve told you many stories already,” he flashed you a flat smile, appreciating the sentiment. “I don’t know if there are any more.”

“What about your ikran?”

“I already told you how I tamed him.”

“You never told me your first flight. Neytiri said it’s the most important.”

He lightly scoffed—more of a laugh, really—he should have known you would get around his deflections. “We almost got lost,” he began.

“Really?”

He hummed. “I got carried away with trying to do all kinds of tricks. Flying just felt…good—It still does.”

“How did you make your way back?”

“Father found me,” he chuckled, “I almost got scolded. But I think he saw how happy I was.”

“What is it like? To fly, I mean.”

“It feels freeing, like the whole world is at your disposal.” He shrugged.

“I would like to fly sometime.”

“Seriously?” When you nodded, he grinned. “I could take you.”

And so, you both made a deal. Tomorrow morning, at dawn. Needless to say you were thrilled to see what the fuss was about.

When the time came, though, nerves got the best of you. You woke up two hours before the sun was fully in the sky, and had to leave your marui due to your own sleeplessness.

Coincidentally, Neteyam was also awake, feeding his ikran. He was at the cliff’s edge near your usual hangout spot.

Climbing up the small hill, he sensed your presence behind him, your gaze falling on his banshee that was giving him the death stare. “It’s been a bit difficult for him adjusting to the food here.”

You were silent, it was far too early to be having conversation. Instead you hesitantly extended your hand toward the animal, feeling its tough skin with a gentle graze under his chin.

Neteyam’s eyes widened—his ikran didn’t like to be touched, he should have warned you. But imagine his surprise when the banshee leaned into your touch, not away from it.

“I should have known he would like you,” he broke the silence.

“Hm?” You looked back at him, still scratching the animal.

“You’re good with animals. That’s why you’re a teacher, right?”

“I suppose.”

His lips curved into a soft smile. “Are you ready?”

With a scrunch of your nose, you flashed him a nervous grin. “Promise not to drop me?”

“Only if you behave,” he adjusted the straps on the banshee.

“I think I’m ready.”

“Let’s do it!”

Neteyam got on, helping you get your footing, and you settled nicely behind him. He made tsaheylu.

“Hold on to my waist,” he grabbed your arm and placed it around his middle. “Don’t let go.”

Without warning, the ikran lifted off the ground, the flap of its wings leaving behind a cloud of dust. On instinct, you squeezed Neteyam’s torso with both of your arms, and the animal shivered beneath your thighs as he must have felt it, too.

Your eyes closed and your head pressed up against his back, hiding from the wind. It was then you noticed he had tied his hair so it wouldn’t get in your face. Laughing at the realization, your eyes opened naturally—you were caught off guard by the beauty surrounding Awa’atlu.

The sea, clear as glass, reflected Eywa’s sun carefully placed in the sky as it came out of hiding. The light bounced off the wavelets in the water, illuminating the homes tied up under the large roots of the trees. Speechless, you were.

“Like the view?” Neteyam asked, his ikran circling near the reef, giving you a panoramic glimpse of your home.

“This is crazy,” you beamed.

Yet, when he turned his head to you, he found a faraway expression.

“You good?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You shook your head. “That’s Rotxo’s marui. Near the edge. It’s further away from the others.

At the mention of your friend, his eyes softened. He knew Rotxo was adopted by the leaders of the clan, but he never pushed to know about the rest.

“The Olo’eyktan gave him a separate marui after his parents…you know. So he had a private place. He’s in there a lot.”

You weren’t sure if you were right to tell Neteyam. At this point, words were just coming out without any real thought. Maybe you were lightheaded from the sheer height.

Veering away from the last part, he still kept on topic. “Are you ever gonna tell him about your feelings?”

“No.”

“Eywa, you are oblivious.” He muttered. “It is not good to dwell on your feelings alone, you know.”

“What else am I supposed to do? Court him?”

“Exactly right.”

“No!” You slapped his back lightly, and the ikran screeched. “What do I even give him?”

“What does he like?”

“He’s been wanting a new armband. He’s outgrown most of his, but—“

“But?”

“I don’t know how.” Neteyam felt the shame radiating off you at not having learned an important skill.

Going back to where you both took off, he landed on the grass smoothly.

After a beat, catching his breath, Neteyam said, “I’ll help you.”

From a young age, Rotxo hoped that being by your side would inevitably get you to see him. Not that he didn’t value being your friend, or that he was only with you because of an ulterior motive, no—he genuinely had this incessant need to be in your presence, and the realization that those feelings were more than platonic was just another side to the coin.

After that epiphany, he started a necklace. Multiple, actually. Perfecting the craft with Tsireya’s help to ensure it showed how much he loved you; his own marui was just the place to practice since nobody bothered him.

He was sort of dealt a bad hand in life having lost his parents as a child, but he was picked up by Tonowari and Ronal who took him underneath their wings. Growing up, feelings of being a burden made themselves known. You, however, being the eldest child of the leaders’s close friends, befriended him.

You both confided in each other about the pressure that came with status. You, being trained to become a warrior and a teacher, and him, as the adopted son of respected leaders. Your friendship bloomed naturally. He wasn’t as close to you as he liked, though, you were much closer with Tsireya and, lately, a certain someone.

About being the son of two great leaders, he had his own duties to perform. Often, that included having to wake up early to get them done. He was up before dawn, stretching and exiting his family’s marui. (But not before lightly kicking Ao’nung on the way out.)

Doing this for years, Rotxo was easily a morning person. So, imagine his surprise when he spotted you—strictly a night person, you told him yourself—walking outside.

He was about to come greet you, until he realized you had a destination in mind: the cliffside. He watched from afar as you climbed up and greeted that certain someone. The one you’d been spending much of your time with, which is none other than Neteyam.

Neteyam was okay. At first, at least. He listened to instructions better than his siblings which Rotxo was thankful for. But then the Sully had to go and become friends with you. Next thing he knew, you were spending most of your time with the guy.

He pictured it so clearly. You and Neteyam bonding over the pressure of being the eldest children. You had many friends, he knows. But recently your touches toward Neteyam got a bit too close, and your smile wider, and suddenly Rotxo became a beacon of an ugly emotion they called jealousy.

He always tried his best to shake it off. Now, seeing you mount Neteyam’s ikran, putting your hands around his waist and grinning when you both took off—he no longer had the dignity to deny it.

A shove from the back had him twisting to look at Ao’nung. “What?”

His brother smirked, pointing his head toward the ikran they both knew was Neteyam’s. “Jealous?”

“No.” Of course he was. But he would never give him the satisfaction of saying yes.

“You’ve been standing there for Eywa knows how long. You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.” Rotxo nodded curtly, jerking his head away when Ao’nung tried to pinch his ear.

Since you were always with Neteyam, and Tsireya was with Lo’ak, Rotxo was stuck dealing with Ao’nung making sure he didn’t stick his neck where it didn’t belong. Ao’nung was a good brother, protective though he wouldn’t admit that. But being him, he was also quite unbearable.

Rotxo just was not having it today. Throughout his training and helping with the clan, he couldn’t help but be short with everyone. He would never be disrespectful, but it was a sure stark contrast from his usual smiles. From crinkled eyes to empty stares.

He didn’t think it made that much of a difference, but apparently it did. He was cleaning up in the Tsahìk’s marui, listening to Ronal with one ear while Tonowari sharpened his spear.

“Say, Rotxo, do you know if Ao’nung has talked of a mate?”

Focused on organizing materials, he gave a simple answer. “No, Tsahìk.”

Unbeknownst to him, both of his parents’ heads slowly raised toward him. Tonowari stopped sharpening his spear, Ronal stopped talking.

At the silence, he looked up. “Is something wrong?”

His mother shot his father a look, and as he nodded, she left.

Uh oh. This can’t be good.

Tonowari put down the spear. “What’s bothering you, ma’itan?”

Ears pinned to his skull, he bit his lip trying to come up with a response. Lying was not on the table. “I am sorry for being curt today, Olo’eyktan. You taught me to be better. I am just…”

“You can tell me.”

“I am…jealous.”

“Of whom?”

“I don’t think it’s important.” He shook his head. “It’s trivial.”

“If it is affecting your behaviour, it’s important.”

Well, he couldn’t disagree, could he?

“I have been jealous of Y/N. Who has been spending time with Neteyam.” He looked around, desperate to see anything but the reaction.

A hand came upon his shoulder, and he finally spotted the smile that crept up on the leader’s face. “You should give them the necklace.”

“Wait—how do you know about that?”

“You know, I didn’t raise Tsireya to be a liar either,” he laughed. “Besides, I would not worry much if I were you.”

“What does that mean?”

He patted Rotxo on the back before picking up the spear and gesturing to the doorway.

“Give them the necklace and find out,” he went back to sharpening the spear.

Rotxo, stumbling out of the pod, pondered on the implications of what was just said. Was it true? Could he really have a chance with you?

With a newfound hope and determination, he headed to his own marui to retrieve the necklace. However, that faith was short lived when he ran into you.

“Rotxo,” you beamed at him. “I was looking for you.”

“You were?” The spark of hope in his chest flickered to a flame.

“I flew on an ikran this morning,” your excitement was so strong that you didn’t seem to notice Rotxo’s grimace. “I wanted to tell you about it and—“

Just like that, the fire was extinguished.

“Um. I’m sorry, Y/N. But I have to go.”

“Oh.” You blinked. “Well, come find me later?”

“Sure.”

Closing the flap of his pod, he stared at the line of necklaces on the floor, his string of failed attempts. Laughable, he thought he ever had a chance with you. Furthest from the entrance was his most recent attempt. His best one.

He laid down, taking the necklace in his hand to hold close to his chest. He let himself grieve the little chance he thought he might have had.

“Eywa,” he breathed. “Please give me a sign before I give up on the one that I love.”

The lack of light guided him into a slumber.

He was woken up after eclipse, found by Tsireya so he could come eat supper.

“Working on the necklace again?” She asked, leading the way.

“No, I accidentally fell asleep.”

She laughed, “When are you going to give it?”

For Tsireya was the one who rooted for you and Rotxo since the start, he didn’t have the heart to tell her he may never give it.

“Soon, probably.” He said instead.

She nodded.

The problem with Rotxo’s marui being so far away, it was a long walk. And because of that, he had to pass practically every single pod. Including the Sully’s.

It was only for one second. His eyes were drawn to the light coming from it, a fire for food. Then he saw you. Eating with the Sully family, handing food to Tuk.

If it were any other kid, his heart would have swelled at your parental instinct. But she was a Sully. His heart, instead, constricted at the thought of you making good relations with Neteyam’s family because you could have loved him.

Still walking, he caught up to his sister. “Why is Y/N eating with the Sully’s?”

Her eyes narrowed at him. “Their parents are away on that hunting trip, remember?”

Right. They sent out a big hunting party every thirty eclipses, and your parents led them. In his haste, he’d forgotten. You must be worried like you always were. Likely searching for comfort. You found that in Neteyam, not him. He was too slow.

The silence wasn’t lost on Tsireya. And not to the rest of his family, either. Not even his little sister who was a few years older by now. But Tonowari steered the conversation away from Rotxo, knowing his situation.

In the following eclipses, he kept to himself during duties. He hadn’t spoken to you since that day you flew on Neteyam’s ikran. He wasn’t purposefully avoiding you, no, you did it for him. It was almost like you disappeared but not completely; you still sent him sweet smiles accompanied with a greeting. He hated that his name sounded just as sweet from your tongue, there was no sign of his feelings dissipating anytime.

Right before eclipse, sick of wallowing in his own misery, he went for a walk.

He spotted you on the shore with an Omatikayan. It was Neytiri, weirdly enough, and not Neteyam. He put the pieces in his head and came to the conclusion that it was because you were talking about a possible union with her eldest after he would pass his rites. Which would be…soon.

Blinking back tears, he saw a blurry glow in the corner of his eyes. Atokirina. He scoffed, pushing it aside and letting it float away as he went to a secluded spot for a swim.

Groaning at your restlessness, you continued to work on the armband for Rotxo. You could spot the mistakes. Your eyes grew hot, maybe you would never be able to make the perfect armband for him.

Neteyam was nice enough in urging you to learn weaving under a real professional in your clan. You were joined by Neytiri in these lessons, who was learning alongside you. You found solace in having someone else learn with you, because most Metkayina either learned as children or not at all. Your embarrassment was quelled when Neytiri took the lessons in stride, encouraging you on the way.

But there was one thing: you kept messing up.

With the unfinished accessory in your grasp, you sought out Neytiri, and found her sitting on a rock at the beach.

You cleared your throat, hoping you weren’t intruding. She smiled upon seeing you. “What do you need?”

“I am a failure,” your shoulders sagged.

Beckoning you to come closer, she patted the spot next to her which you took. You showed her the armband in progress.

“It’s beautiful.”

“No,” you insisted. “It is not.”

She frowned, “How come?”

You pointed out the mistakes.

“You know what I see?”

You hummed, preparing yourself for the sting of rejection.

“Love,” she replied. “You made it with love.”

“Does that even matter if it looks terrible?”

“It is not terrible.” She disagreed, “It is imperfect, but so is love.”

You finally shed a tear, partly out of frustration but at the epiphany you had upon hearing Neytiri’s words. What mattered was that it’s for Rotxo. And you already knew he would love it regardless of how he felt toward you.

“You know,” Neytiri continued. “In our clan, we often made jewelry that matched. One for the lover, the other for the loved. And if the other accepts, that is their gift, and it means they become the lover, too. The love is mutual and their bond is strengthened.”

You wiped the tear away. “That’s poetic.”

“It is.”

“Should I do that?”

“If you want to.”

“I’m going to.”

So, you took it upon yourself to keep going. You got so carried away that you lost sleep for the next two nights, finishing Rotxo’s and making one for yourself.

Early morning, sitting on the cliffside, you looked at your work side by side. A little too honed in on the armbands combined with a lack of rest, you didn’t notice a pair of large blue feet right next to you until the owner of said feet cleared his throat.

“Skxawng!” You hissed at Neteyam, straining your head to look up. “You scared me!” You swatted at his calves.

Finally noticing his state, “Why are you out of breath?”

“I ran here.”

“For what?” You stood up, worried.

“To tell you…” he wheezed, “that you should probably give it to Rotxo soon.“

“Why?”

“Tsireya told Lo’ak who told me that Rotxo has been sad,” Neteyam answered. “He thinks that you and me might be…”

“Oh Eywa, that’s gross.” You said, not really thinking. At Neteyam’s slight offended look, “Sorry, I just—I can’t think of being with anyone except Rotxo.“

“Then tell him!”

Seeing your friend so riled up made you chuckle. “Alright, I’ll do it today. Thank you, by the way. For covering my duties.”

Strolling back with Neteyam, putting your armband on, you prepared yourself for the worst. Sensing your apprehension, he squeezed your forearm in comfort. You sent him a grateful look and began to scan the place for Rotxo.

He wasn’t far, feeding his ilu just sitting at the edge of the walkway.

“Rotxo,” you called, mirroring his smile as he turned around.

His eyes darted to the new accessory on your arm, gulping.

“Y/N,” he called back. His breath hitched for a moment when you took your place next to him. After all the time apart, being right next to you still felt right. “How are you?”

“I’m—I’m okay. You?”

“Same here,” he pet his ilu.

It was now or never. “I have…something for you.”

He stopped his motions, not even minding when the animal made a noise in complaint. “For me?”

You hoped you weren’t imagining the hope in his eyes when he faced you.

“For you,” you untied it from the waistband of your loincloth, hesitantly extending it to him.

His eyes darted to the one on your forearm.

“It matches yours.”

“It does,” you nodded. You wanted him to connect the pieces himself.

“This is…for me?”

“Do you like it?”

He responded by putting it on, your smile widening. He stood up and offered a hand, which you happily grabbed. He didn’t let go, though, and you’ll admit it made you giddy.

He pulled you toward a direction, “Come, I want to show you something.”

Leading you to his marui, you wondered what could possibly be there for you. Still, you stared at the accessory, the one you made, adorning his arm. It fit snugly around his toned muscles.

He opened the door for you, letting you see the inside. There were necklaces scattered in the corner, but one, different from the others, sat further away separated from the rest. Rotxo took it and even from the doorway you could see its beauty, with the shiny beads and a medium-sized shell at its middle as the focal point.

Despite the distance between you, he heard you say, “Is that…?”

“It’s for you.”

What followed after was you running to him with such force and excitement that he toppled over, tripping over a scrapped necklace, sending you both to the floor with a loud huff.

“Easy,” he rubbed your back, elated at your gesture and also breaking your fall. He tried to calm his heart at how close you were. “Are you okay?”

His voice so close to your ear made you shiver. “With you? Always.”

Rotxo, speechless, let the silence stretch. He relished in the feeling of being surrounded by you.

“Can you put it on me?”

Ignoring the stutter of his heart, “You would have to get off me for that. Not that I mind this right now, trust me.”

You laughed, “Of course.” You did as he said, and kneeled next to him, as he did the same.

He chose to put it on you face-to-face, leaning in close with his arms around you, his breath against your neck as he felt for the clasp to secure it.

Pulling back to look at it, he couldn’t help but flit his eyes to your reaction. But you weren’t looking at the necklace, either. You were looking at him.

Before you knew it, you found the feeling of his soft lips on yours to be the only thing you needed for peace of mind. You wanted it forever, as did he.

And just like that, both lovers became the loved. The feeling mutual, the bond strengthened. It was real.

#rotxo x reader #rotxo #rotxo x you #atwow rotxo #rotxo imagine #avatar the way of water #avatar the way of water x reader #atwow #atwow x reader #rotxo fluff #avatar imagine #avatar rotxo

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call-me-copycat · 9 months

Text

Escaping The Night (Part 8)

➤ Welcome - Introduction and Request Rules (Requests are open + Some info about me)

▶ Characters: Shinso x Fem! Reader + Father/Mentor Aizawa (platonic)

▶ Genre: Angst to Fluff + Slowburn

▶ Summary: Aizawa takes you to register your quirk, and after you get to meet Eri. Following that, Aizawa tells you that school is starting for you tomorrow.

▶ Word Count: 5047

▶ Warnings:

- A little bit of derealization during the meeting with Eri

- Little bit of PTSD experienced by the reader

➜ [Part 1]

➜ [Part 2]

➜ [Part 3]

➜ [Part 4]

➜ [Part 5]

➜ [Part 6]

➜ [Part 7]

{This is Part 8}

➜ [Part 9] Coming Soon!

And soon enough, he was sure you'd be living a happy and fulfilling life. He just had to keep going, for the greater good.

The drive was quiet after that, the only sounds being the quiet sounds of the radio and the rushing of warm air that was let into the car. You sat as you usually did, knees facing away from Eraserhead and your attention directed to the world outside the window. Although the calm atmosphere gave off an outer mask of safety, you loathed how in tune your behavior was beginning to become in response to Eraserhead's actions.

The drive was unusually long, and as time wore on you began to become more antsy due to the lack of knowledge of what was next. Eventually larger city buildings began to fill your window, and it soon made sense to you that city hall would naturally be located out in the city rather than the little suburbs or town.

The car came to a halt in a small parking lot, and as you stepped out you were immediately greeted with the chilled air blowing in your face. Shivering a bit, you studied your surroundings, unfamiliar since this was Honei.

*I downloaded this game and the city is stunning (　･`ω･´)✨ I'm going to use it lots more to map out places better since I struggle to see what authors describe in writing. The building in the story is the yellow one right there.*

On the other side of the building you parked by was a large mall, a staircase leading up to an outer balcony and paths built over the road to help citizens safely walk throughout the city. It was a busy day, with people being seen pretty much as far as the eye could see. Looking up at the building just led to nothing new being found out, the slight yellow color not doing much to make up for its overall mundaneness.

Aizawa made his way over to your side of the car, signaling to you with a simple wave of the hand to follow. You complied, no matter how much spite was filling your heart, your mind always knew better.

You turned a corner from where you two came from and followed the short path to the entrance of the building, although looking at the end of the little area you saw what you believed was a police officer and some caution tape. Sensing your curiosity, Aizawa filled you in on what you were missing.

"They're just cleaning up some rubble from an old villain attack. Nothing out to the ordinary"

You don't know what compelled you to rebut back.

"And how much of that damage was caused by the hero?"

The lack of response didn't grant you the slightest amount of satisfaction, but it was already said. For a moment, whether you wanted to acknowledge it or not, regret peeked it's eyes over at you. Dark and beady.

"Who knows. Let's get this done with."

He didn't give much of a response before opening the door and silently commanding you in while also cutting off any more spiteful responses.

And that's how you found yourself sitting in a small windowless room like many others around you, an empty paper*¹ in front of you waiting for you to fill in its blanks. Eraserhead sat in a cushioned chair off to another corner of the room, his arms crossed as he waited for you to finish. It was something perceived as so seemingly simple; after all, who knows their quirk better than the owner itself?

You did the best you could, filling in the basics first. However, as you skimmed the whole document, your fingers began to twitch. It was rather... Lengthy. Questions after questions filled your vision, most of which you realized you didn't know how to fill in (addresses, dates, serial numbers, etc). And since this was a formal document, you couldn't just try your best. No... You'd need to get help.

Looking over at Eraserhead through the corner of your eye, you clenched the pen in your hand tighter. Heaving a breath, you decided to do what you could. You'd run into the problem later.

The basics were filled out. Your name, quirk, and updates on your quirk answered the best you could. However, the pen froze just as the fingers holding it did. It was daunting, seeing how much more information was needed compared to the last time you filled it out. Physically being able to look at the blanks brought about a new awareness, it finally clicking in your mind just how little you knew about your situation.

The scraping of a chair across the carpet drew you out of your thoughts, and looking to your side you realized that Eraserhead had brought himself to sit right next to you. You both silently shared a look, the silence filled with tension coming from your side. It quickly faded to understanding as you let him take a look at the paper, then going to jot down everything he explained right after.

At long last, once you finished filling out what you could, the bright rays of the afternoon sunshine greeted your eyes, helping to warm up your frosty body after being inside the cold building for so long. Stepping out, you stood in place for a second, taking in your surroundings once more.

You noticed an increase in people since it was midday, although this group mainly consisted of a younger age group compared to the older people that visited in the morning. There must've been a building cooking something nearby, because the savory smell of either pork or chicken was wafting throughout the air.

It was nice in a way, seeing a new area you hadn't before. All the new sights and people were a bit overwhelming, but it held such an acute feeling of comfort, one that you couldn't pinpoint. As you saw Eraserhead in the corner of your eye, your remembered what he had promised you earlier and began to walk back to where his parked car was sitting.

A sudden hand to your shoulder caused you to freeze.

"Looks like I completely forgot about food. Let's get something in your stomach, okay?" Aizawa looked up and around, and you realized he most likely was not familiar with this area any more than you were.

"There's a few restaurants around here, you can pick any you'd like to - my treat." Upon receiving a blank look, he knew he'd have to learn to be more stubborn with you in retaliation, even if his heart wasn't in it. "I'm not one to offer this very often, either you pick something or I will."

"I'd rather not eat here"

Your response was forced. Everywhere, all around you, were people. You had never eaten at a restaurant before, but you had seen too many damaged and taken over by villains to feel comfortable casually going to one to eat.

"So we'll just go home to eat then, that's what you're saying?"

Home.

You didn't like that at all. Him saying it as if you lived there (which you technically did). As if it was permanent. As if you had always been there. As if you will always be there.

Aizawa was about ready to pull out his hair. He tried being nice and giving offers, yet nothing could make you budge. It was odd for him, forcing himself to be so kind for so long. But he knew he had to keep going. It was all for your sake, after all.

No response was expected, and so he simply took the initiative to head back to his place. He wasn't exactly one that liked to stay home when he could've been productive, but he decided that he couldn't complain. You were still new, and you still had a shell to break out of. If you ever would in the end.

The drive was long, the rest of the day even longer. Once home, you ou simply sat looking out the windows in silence, ignoring every offer of books or drawing paper given to you by an antsy Aizawa.

Truth be told, you felt like you could burst away at any second. Without having anybody to fight or protect, you constantly felt as if you had to be on guard. There was nowhere for your energy to go, and you couldn't bear to sit around and not do anything.

Looking at the darkening sky, you made a silent promise to yourself that things would get better. That you'd be okay in the end... That everything you went through wouldn't go to waste.

The next morning, you caught Aizawa off guard by being up before he was, pacing around the living room as silent as a cat. At 4 in the morning.

"You're up early."

You stopped pacing with a swift halt, and Aizawa could see the tension from where you stood with your back to him. He could tell you were starting to feel the withdrawal. The feelings of loneliness and confusion that normally accompanied having something dear taken away.

"Where are we heading now?"

Your voice was quiet, but still enough to catch him off guard.

Looking around the dark room, Aizawa make a split second decision.

"You're starting school tomorrow."

A beat of silence passed through the room, moving slowly as if it was going through molasses. You didn't say a word, yet you looked up from the floor to the roof, your back still to Aizawa. There was little that surprised you at this point, and you had long ago accepted the fact that these were the consequences that came from your actions. It still hurt.

"For now..."

You could hear him grabbing his keys, indicating another event or activity.

"We're going to see someone special. Someone I'd like you to meet."

The cold air once again nipped at you once you exited the warm apartment, but you hardly flinched. It was something you were used to. Something you had to get used to. It certainly didn't go unnoticed by Aizawa, ever so observant.

The drive was shorter, and this time it led to a quaint two story house, an older one that was quite large in size. The paint was peeling, but it was overall in rather good condition, the colors providing a very rustic atmosphere.

You followed Aizawa up the pathway, watching as he rang the buzzer to the gate and spoke into some connected speaker, before following him through the gate once it opened.

The door almost immediately swung open to reveal an aging lady, her hair tired up in a bun and wrinkles decorating her face, with a much younger lady in the background who had her hair up in a ponytail, and was wearing an apron and boots.

"Shota, you were just here! It feels like you never left," the older lady spoke, ushering him in, to which you followed.

The house smelled clean, and it had a very homey feeling, one of comfort and familiarity. It smelled of honey and lemon, along with some kind of pastry that must've been baking. It reminded you of a grandmother's house. The surfaces were polished, and lining the bookshelves were numerous pictures of many different children, all at various ages. Each were smiling and doing something different in every photo.

The lady in the background hummed while mopping what you supposed was the kitchen floor, before looking over directly at you.

"Oh? You're new, aren't you?"

Aizawa looked up, nodding before gesturing to you.

"She's new, yes. I decided it would be in both of our best interests if I brought her with me today."

Listening closely, you could hear the squeals of children laughing upstairs and outside. Was this place some kind of daycare, you guessed? It felt like some sort of extra reality, it was starkly quiet on the inside of the house, yet you could almost feel the comfort of the many little lives that would've normally been bustling around. It brought back old memories you wanted held down, the familiarity swallowing you and your mind in it's tar-like stickiness. It was suffocating. You couldn't breath. You wanted to leave. To get out.

Looking all around, you trembled, feeling trapped just as you did on that fateful night. Heaving a soft breath, you calmed your racing heart, looking at the ground for the time being to prevent any future panic.

The older lady was gone by the time you looked up, and Aizawa waved for you to follow him down a new hallway. As you did, you noticed the wallpaper becoming more colorful, with various cartoon bees and cats littering a blue sky and green grass background. It was getting harder to breath. You didn't know why it was so difficult. Why it was so intimidating to be somewhere so innocent. But it wrung out a reaction from you that you had never seen nor expected before.

Reaching a door at the end, you waited with baited breath as Aizawa knocked, once, twice. The hallways had little lights on the floor and soft yellow lamps along the top of the walls, coating the dark area on an old yellow glow. Time seemed to pause as you stood there, wondering who was behind the door. Faintly, you could hear some shuffling before a muffled, "coming!"

The door opened to reveal a younger girl about 7 years old, dressed in a flowery sweater and stripped leggings. She had gray hair and striking red eyes, along with a little horn that sat on her right side of her forehead. Your eyes widened, not having expected to meet with a child that day.

Her face of confusion upon seeing you almost immediately vanished as she smiled at the sight of Eraser, opening her arms at him.

"Mr. Aizawa! I didn't think you'd come today!"

He smiled, patting her head a bit before stepping back, "Just felt like visiting today, you could say."

"I'm so glad! I made a new drawing, come see!", she exclaimed as he followed her into the room. You stood on the outside, curiously peering in to keep an eye on Aizawa in case he called you to do something.

It was isolating, seeing them converse with such familiarity while you stood and awkwardly watched. Why did he say he wanted you there? So he could show how much he liked to see other kids, so he could show off how close he was to others while he held you at arms length?

Your eyes slanted into slits. Why were you feeling this way? What lowered your self-esteem so low to the point of being jealous over a little girl? Why did your heart pang everytime you saw how kindly she was treated? Why did it hurt seeing her have such a happy life when you struggled throughout your entire childhood?

It wasn't fair, but you had learned to suck it up from a young age. A deceased mother and a callous father meant you didn't live such an easy life. You stopped looking at everyone else's good lives, learned to eventually ignore the pangs of jealousy until you forgot they existed.

Your moment of bitterness was cut short when you felt a soft tug at your shirt, only to look down and see her staring directly at you. Before you could do or say anything (not that you would've), she beat you to it.

"Aren't you cold outside?"

You realized she was pointing at your plain sweater, and Aizawa internally beat himself for not buying you better winter gear. Your heart beat harder. She was worried about you. She didn't know you, and yet she still worried. You had never met a child like that before.

"Not particularly."

She thumbed the fabric, and you didn't know why, but you let her. She didn't feel like a threat, and you didn't feel she was as dangerous as someone like Aizawa. Her actions were soft and caring, slow and gentle. Most kids you met were the exact opposite. It was nice, seeing somebody your own pace.

"What's your name?"

She was a child, you reminded yourself, it was only natural to be curious. Yet, it had been a long time since you interacted with children. You didn't know their mannerisms, and how to make sure they wouldn't cry.

"[Name]"

She looked up into your eyes once more and smiled. You looked back, and saw a heaviness in them, masked behind her current happy mood. Something that was held in her eyes told you that she saw something she should never have for someone her age. It held a secret fear, a worry that was otherwise hidden from the rest of her facial features. But there's a reason why they say the eyes never lie.

"Well, [Name], I'm glad I got to meet you! Are you friends with Mr. Aizawa?"

"No."

You knew your response was a bit too quick, but there was no going back once it was said. You saw her frown a bit before relaxing again, resuming her smile.

"Oh, well I hope you two become friends one day, I know Mr. Aizawa can seem scary, but he's actually really nice! He'll show you!" She turned to look at the man in question, "Right, Mr. Aizawa?"

He smiled softly in response before nodding. You had never seen him look this way before. So relaxed and... Happy. It was like a whole other person. Seeing him put on another face so easily should've startled you, worried you about what it was hiding. Yet, for some reason you didn't think of that at the moment.

"Here!"

The girl grabbed your hands, and you bent lower in response to her tugging. She gently wrapped a scarf around your neck. "I don't need this one anymore since Mirio got me a new one, but you can have this one so you're not cold!"

Looking down, you saw the scarf was entirely red, the same shade as her eyes. You rubbed the soft fabric between your fingers, before offering her a bow of gratitude.

"I'll take care of it. Thank you "

She laughed in response, "You're welcome! You're very funny!" She chuckled.

You failed to find what was so funny about your actions, but Aizawa was already telling her goodbye.

"We'll be heading out now, thank you for the scarf. She appreciates it... just a little differently than others would "

The girl hugged her backpack that was once sitting on the floor to her stomach, "Don't worry! I'm different too! Now she's not alone!"

Aizawa chuckled before waving and closing the door. As you walked back outside, you replayed the entire visit through your mind once more. More layers were unraveling, and you were beginning to lose track of what it was you were searching for.

Before you went into another spiral, the door to the building opened, and out rushed that little girl, who ran up to the now closed gate. She was followed by the young lady from before, frantic about trying to get the girl out of the snow.

"Eri! My name's Eri by the way!" She smiled and waved goodbye as you stood by the open car door, before the girl was picked up by the lady.

"It was nice meeting you, [Name]!"

As she smiled and waved, so happy despite such a minimal interaction, you stood and watched until she wasn't able to be seen anymore, brought back inside the warm house. Slowly, you raised your hand and waved to the empty air, a small smile stroking your face before it all fell back into the same monotonous glare.

The car was warm. It was always warm.

You couldn't pinpoint the feeling that was building up inside of you... But it was new, and... Odd.

One side of you hurt for some unknown reason, perhaps the feelings of isolation were finally getting to you? Maybe because you had been opened up to a new perspective once you saw you weren't there only one Aizawa knew? Who knows...

The other side felt warm. Warm and... Soft. Happy in a way that you were cared for by someone so new to you. It rarely happened on the streets. Sometimes someone would bring you some food or a blanket every now and then, but for the most part it was you taking care of everyone else. You couldn't bear the feeling of being a burden. It was dishonorable. Disrespectful.

Once back at the apartment, Aizawa stopped you before you made your way up the steps to his floor.

"Let's take a little walk. The sun's out and I've been cooping you up inside for too long."

There wasn't much to say except for a nod, which you then turned to follow him down the sidewalk. As you kept with his pace, you noticed that he walked a bit more freely than his usual walk, with his hands in his pockets and a slight jaunt to his step.

It was quiet between the two of you, but the sounds of the town surrounded you both. It was the weekend, so families were out and about, with the sidewalks littered with people of all sorts.

You didn't think Aizawa had anywhere to go in mind, but you were kindly surprised when you both eventually made your way to the harbor, passing the docks where the boats were sitting in the water.

Looking around, you saw fishermen unloading nets of fish into large containers and others preparing for fishing trips of their own. Some were already setting out, but the larger boats were parked.

The sun was out just as Aizawa had said, and it made for a pleasant afternoon. As you followed in his steps and sat down next to him on a bench facing the boats, you realized you hadn't had a day to yourself to do... Nothing, not in a long, long while.

You watched as a boat blared its horn as it slowly backed out, remembering the sound as you had heard it plenty passing by at night.

Next to you, Aizawa pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket before lighting one, just having it as an afterthought as he set it in his mouth before crossing his arms.

A beat of silence passed between you two once more before Aizawa spoke up suddenly.

"My father was a fisherman... He'd always be gone in the early mornings and late at night. Sometimes he'd bring some of his catch home with him," leisurely looking up at a passing kite a child was running with, he paused before continuing.

"He had a little tugboat that he always rode when it wasn't time to catch anything. Sometimes I got to ride it with him as long as I got up with him early in the morning..."

You didn't respond, but Aizawa knew you were listening. He softly smiled at the memories as he looked over the boats, feeling at home with the sights and smells that surrounded the area.

Why was he telling you this, you wondered? You knew it was most likely to get you used to him, to see him more as a person than an event or cause of force. But... You didn't resent it. It was odd, but you didn't mind the stories, as they were harmless after all.

You both sat there until the sun began to set, and you knew it was time to go when you began shivering once more.

That night, it was just you and Aizawa. No Present Mic or any other visitors. It seemed it was always quiet between you two.

While Aizawa cooked in the kitchen, you looked around for something to do. Finding a blank piece of paper sitting idly on the coffee table, you set to work folding it.

As Aizawa made his way to the living room to watch TV while the food cooked, he noticed you folding a paper into some origami creation.

"Hmm... Dog?"

You paused your folding to glace at him in confusion before continuing.

So it was not a dog, he now knew.

As you folded, he couldn't help but be impressed at the craftsmanship and delicate way you were folding the edges. It reminded him of his mother...

"A cat then?"

Still no response from you but you did give him a glance. He didn't know if he was getting closer or further.

As you finished, you gently set the paper down, looking at it for a second. Wringing your fingers, you felt empty now that you didn't have anything to do.

"I see ears... A tail... It looks like some kind of canine?"

"Canidae."

He perked up at your response, glad to get something for once.

"It's... A fox."

"I see."

Aizawa took a sip of his drink as he saw you idly flipping and folding the remnants of the leftover paper, before offering to you, "There's some books in my room. The shelf next to my work desk to the right of my bed," He shrugged, "I don't know if any will be to your suiting though, they're a little old."

As the timer for the kitchen went off, he saw you stand and walk off as he made his way into the kitchen.

Aizawa's room was about as empty as the rest of the house. A single bed that was hardly used, dark red blanket and black sheets. A work desk to the right of it, that extended so it fit in the corner, like an L.

Flipping through the few books he had on the shelf, you pulled out one with a light blue color you thought you recognized. It was an older book, but it was the autobiography of someone who lived through the first generation. They spoke of the horrors that they had to go through as the world was plunged into chaos and despair at the emergence of quirks. You were the 5th generation, with Aizawa being somewhere in between 4 and 5.

You frowned a bit as you saw it was bent, so someone had clearly folded the pages back around as they read (only one person it could be...).

*As much as I love him, I hate the way he reads*

Ignoring it, you clutched the book to your chest as it was something familiar. Something you were able to recognize. It felt nice during all the new things being forced onto you.

You walked out back to the living room, not wanting Aizawa on your case about being in his room for too long. Although the logical part of your mind told you he genuinely didn't care about it, the emotional side held onto the fear that was born from each visit to your father's room in the past. It never seemed to diminish, no matter how much sensibility you threw at it.

Sitting down again, you opened the book to read as you did once in the past. It was clearly older than the version you had, the cover worn with creases and tears, the pages yellowing. On the inside of the cover was a small note scribbled in pen, but you just passed by it, eager to get to the story you knew of.

"Ah, now that's a classic."

You paused your search in order to look over at Aizawa, who was plating the food he had made. Noticing your attention was on him, he nudged his head in the direction of the book you held.

"I read that plenty when I was your age... Sometimes I'd have it on me to read when I took a break during missions."

Of all the books he had, you had to pick that one. The one his mother was always reading. The one gift from her he had actually kept after leaving. The one reminder he had of his youth...

It made him slightly uneasy... You reminded him of his mother in ways more than one. It was a childish way of thinking for a grown man, but it was the truth.

Aizawa didn't let you go to bed that night without a brief lecture as to what your school-life would be like. He wanted to make sure you knew as much as you could, so you wouldn't be left in the dark anywhere. The last thing he needed was you getting overwhelmed and running off somewhere again.

"Using the measurements received from the tailor at the mall, I put in for your uniform a few days ago. I'll go get it for you in a second."

You nodded.

"I already got you everything you need. Your bag's hanging on the hook next to mine by the door. It has everything you need in it; writing supplies, notebooks, the textbooks for classes, all of it."

Glancing over at the wall by the door, you nodded. You couldn't see it, but you knew it was there. When you turned back, you saw Aizawa sliding a piece of paper over to you on the coffee table.

"Your schedule. It's a little different for everyone, but either way you'll have me as your homeroom teacher like everyone else. You met Hizashi not too long ago, he's the English teacher. As much as he jokes, you've still got to treat him with respect."

So much was being thrown your way all at once. You normally had no trouble holding onto large amounts of information, so you tried not to let it get to you.

"During my homeroom class we normally train by going over different scenarios and things like that. It's where your mind and body will be trained in order to learn to think and react like a hero-"

"I'd rather not..."

Aizawa sighed. He had a slight understanding at this point of your thought process. It was blurry, but it was a forming image.

"You don't have to be a hero if you don't want to. Nobody's going to force you. But with all you know, plus all your experience, it'd be beneficial for you to learn to hone your quirk better."

Your expression furrowed a bit, but you left it at that. There was a mutual understanding that arguing wouldn't get anywhere.

"Now as for your classmates..." Aizawa heaved a breath, not knowing where to even start. "They're a bit... They can be a little rambunctious at times. Don't let that discourage you though, they're quite smart and can hold themselves up pretty well." He smiled to himself slightly, thinking about it.

"Don't worry too much, you'll be in good hands."

Aizawa knew they'd love you.

A/N:

And we're back once more! I wish everyone a successful New Year! Think of this as a little New Year's Gift (　ﾟᵕﾟ)

That being said, I do apologize for being slow at writing! Between work and school, I'm pretty much kept busy 24/7, so I've been struggling to get some free time ꒰ ᐢ ◞‸◟ᐢ꒱

I'm working on Chapter 9 along with the other many requests I've gotten! I'm trying to get as much done as I can! ✌('∀-)-☆

I do have something to say to those still with me though:

Thank you for staying with me.

Wishing you all a lovely New Year, start safe and healthy for me please! 🌸(♡´ ꒳ `*♡)人(♡*´ ꒳ `♡)🌸

Tag List:

♡ @bingewatchintilldawn

♡ @talia-the-gemini

♡ @cactilli

♡ @breadglasses

♡ If you wish to be tagged/taken off the list, please let me know! Feel free to do this either by messages or by giving me an ask :⁠-⁠)

Notes:

*1 - I made out a whole quirk registration form online. Why? I have no clue. I think I'll post it when it's fully finished.

年2023/ 月12/ 日31

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acourtofthought · 20 days

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I know the other side likes to lump Elain with all the rose motifs but Elain is associated with earth/nature motifs.

Sarah often uses roses as a way to symbolize Elain but I don't think that means every single time a rose is mentioned it it's a direct connection to her. The times she does seem to be pretty pointed -

"She was a rose bloom in a mud field. Filled with galloping horses."

When thinking of flowers, roses often come to mind for many. They have beauty, they're fragrant, they have soft petals. They're both strong (with thorns) and delicate so it would make sense that if Sarah were going to use a flower to symbolize Elain she chose the rose.

For the above excerpt I think what Sarah is saying is that this beautiful, lovely soft thing is in a place that she doesn't belong. A single rose would look quite out of place in a mud field and there's a strong chance that it's going to get trampled when surrounded by galloping horses (aka the Illyrian warriors). Elain being likened to a rose in this scenario isn't necessary a good thing for Elain, it's Sarah telling us that she doesn't belong.

In the Feyre bonus we're told a "stubborn rosebush" tore through her gloves causing her injury and goes on to think that had Elain been wearing Lucien's gloves, nothing would have pierced her at all. In this case I think Sarah is telling us Elain is the stubborn rosebush by avoiding Lucien and their bond and that's only leading her to more pain (which we saw in the Az bonus).

Speaking of the Az bonus we had Az give Elain a rose necklace but he doesn't once mention how he feels the rose necklace is symbolic of Elain. Instead he talks about how the rose necklace appears to be ordinary until it's held to the light at which time it's true depth can be seen. I've always believed that it's Sarah telling us that Elain is the rose necklace, that others believe her to be one dimensional but when she's finally where she belongs (a court synonymous with light), we'll see her full depth, she'll finally come into bloom.

Sarah again connects Elain to roses with the flowers Feyre painted on her dresser and with the rose carving that their father made her but in that case the rose represented Spring and Summer for Elain because "it was winter and she missed the flowers." I think Sarah also set up Elain's future journey with that carving what with it being the only thing Nesta took from the human cottage, holding it tightly (as she often held on to Elain as her protector). She's later unsure why she places the rose carving on the mantel next to a figure of a goddess rather than throwing it in the drawer. She also notes how the carving is half hidden in shadows. I think that symbolizes how Elain has her own story to tell, one that also shows a connection to the mother or some other goddess (i.e., like we saw with Yrene's connection to Silba) but so long as she remains hidden in the shadows of the NC, she'll never fully come into her light. Later Nesta takes the rose figure and places it on her father's gravestone as a permanent marker of the beauty and good he wanted to bring into the world. I think that symbolizes how Nesta is finally letting go of Elain, setting her free to make her own path and not holding her back over fears for her safety.

So I do think Elain being mentioned with roses throughout the series does have some meaning to her story but that doesn't mean roses always have something to do with Elain.

Feyre has a rosewood desk but I don't think Elain is going to take her desk from her.

Az's mother lives in Rosehall but I don't think that has anything to do with Elain, we have nothing to back up the theory that she's headed there (not like Nesta saying how the spring court had been made for someone like Elain and how Elain's scent was like a promise of Spring and how we know the Spring Court is directly tied to open ended plots) and no clues that there's anything to resolve there. What is Rosehall even like? A place having rose in the name isn't much to go on, not when the entire series is called A Court of Thorns and Roses yet the main star of the trilogy was Feyre. Not when Rosehall could be cold and icy (thinking of Greenland being cold and Iceland being more temperate) and clearly not a place for a "rose" to thrive. In this instance, rose is not being connected to Elain at all but simply the name of a place. Whenever Sarah has connected Elain to roses she's very upfront about it though the meaning behind those connections is open to interpretation (i.e., Elain being a rose bloom in a mud field, Elain receiving a rose necklace that needs held to the light to see it's true depth). She didn't do that with Rosehall though, there was no connection made to that town / city and Elain.

Sometimes a rose is just a rose, just like the roses Elain grew in the human lands.

Though I do agree that Elain's character is not only connected to roses but of life and nature.

The text tells us she's a "gentle grower of things", whose scent is jasmine and honey like a promise of spring, who has "life" shining from her eyes and who wants the world to have more gardens.

While I do think Sarah used a rose next to Elain's name to hint at certain things, Elain's arc is going to be a lot more than how she's symbolized by a single flower on a handful of occasions.

#elain archeron #pro elain archeron #elucien

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sparks-chaotic-cove · 5 months

Text

IMPORTANT: please suggest quotes for those I don't have an idea for! It'd be very helpful, especially because I don't have all the VODs! I need quotes for: Rae, Caspian, Momboo, Jamie, Easton, Centross, Ven, Athena, Wolf, Arisanna, Haley, and Icarus. Open for suggestions on Ocie, Ulysses, and Aax!

I think when Fable ends I'm going to work on a series of pieces- love letters to the entire story and how much it's impacted me. I've got a few planned but I need Fable to end before I start it, because whatever happens from now to the finale- including the finale itself, is going to be so important in relation to these! A few of the already like- dead dead characters I can work with though

I want to include text within them, so;

Rae - Rae's is going to be one of the most fun. There is so much I can do- so many directions. The finale will probably solidify which I do! A few things are for certain though; 1) aspects of the skulk. Most likely will be vines crawling up the background! 2) Aspects of the three shards- Alerion, Enderian, and Perix. Probably will be conveyed through color! Enderian will have a more specific nod as she's more present within Rae himself! Some sort of crown would sort of be my idea. 3) Stars. Of some sort, I want there to be stars. 4) A crown. Will probably be end-esque but we shall see!

Aax -There are a few things I know I want for Aax as well! 1) Four. Such an iconic thing for Aax- it's gotta be there. 2) Glowberries (because why not) 3) A trident and an axe. Aax's words will probably be something like "by design", or something about protecting Rae and Caspian!

(more below cut. It's a lot of words-)

Caspian - The problem with Caspian is I don't know an absolute ton about him! I do know a decent bit though, I'd say. A few things I want to include: 1) a quill. what's a writer without his tools? 2) A nod to momboo in some way. I'll figure that out. 3) Redstone/gadgetry of some kind. 4) something Atlas related, if not Atlas herself.

Momboo - I want a lot of nature themed elements, of course, but also a splash of color. The glitching. May do a half and half but probably not- it'll probably be worked in there somehow tho! I want nods to Jamie and Easton as well. Not sure on the quote yet!

Jamie - I hold Jamie in my little hands. I want nods to Athena, Momboo, and Easton in there, as well as Eeji, whatever the sheep is named, the camel and Solaris! I might have them as tiny creatures within the art piece itself! There will be an increase of nature themed elements as well, a nod to how they inherited that from Momboo! (no quote so far)

Easton: I don't know too much about Easton as well, sadly! I want to include lightning, skulk, nods to their mother and sibling, and the border will probably be a heart monitor type line (well within the border), a nod to how they see the world! (no quote so far)

Athena: I of course want Nether elements, but also a nod to Jamie, nature/flowers, and Cheshire! Cheshire might be included, possibly at the bottom or draped across Athena's neck. Whatever I can get to work! I kind of want to draw her in his fancy nether outfit, because I feel like it fits? (no quote so far)

Ven: The little traitor man! (/aff) I want nods to Fengari and some sort of writing detail! I don't know a ton about Ven, but I may include some nods to Fable (twisting yellow claws, etc!) (no quote so far!)

Ocie: I have the most idea for Ocie- she's the one that started my brain a'going. One of the strongest themes in Ocie's character is grief. It's lost so many people- and now another one, Len. Features I want to include are: 1) a nod to Momboo, 2) Oscar, 3) I kind of want her eyes to glow, 4) a heart of the sea, 5) tears. The words on her piece will probably be "Another empty grave." (or "I don't want to dig another grave.", or "It takes every piece away"!)

Centross: Wouldn't be a Centross piece without a nod to the end! A note that this piece will be of Violet! I want to display each character sort of in their "final form", whatever that may be. I want stars, the reaver, and a nod to the farming. His quote will probably be something cryptic about keeping the balance!

Wolf/Fenris: Fenris's is another that is going to be really fun! I may add a phantom mask over his face, as well as the moon above or behind his head. I want him in a fancy outfit- probably the one Malitae gave him, or the Festival of light one. There will be stars for Rae, and maybe wheat for Centross? Not sure of a quote yet!

Arisanna: Gotta have allays. But also pillager references! The border will probs have arrows within it! She'll also have some sort of book reference, whether that be the background or her holding one!

Icarus: Wings and potions and wack. Icarus's will be colorful, feathery, and otherwise I'm not entirely sure! I want a crown, so icarus's matches the rest of prince trio's. I also want to highlight their eyes! Otherwise, I think help from y'all and also the finale will help. Quote might be "Oh, we're doing this again?" but I am very very very open to suggestions

Haley: Haley's is going to be eerie- probably a reference to how she died, but also I want something puppet-y about her! not sure what else, and for the quote all i got is "this wasn't how it was supposed to go"

Ulysses: formerly evil fish man WOOO! Gotta have references to medical stuff, possibly have Victor in there, telchin stuff, and alcohol. Ulysses is trying to make amends, to fix the wrongs, to improve. I don't know how I can convey the layers of that well, like I can with Ocie's grief. Honestly, the quote might be the best way to do that! ("I'm sorry", or "I didn't mean for this to happen", maybe?)

I won't be doing one for Galahad, Will, or Chaos! Galahad and Will because I don't know their characters that well, and I feel like it'd be out of place now. Chaos for infer-able reasons.

Addie may be added if I have time, motivation, and if we see addie again before the end!

#fablesmp #fsmp #fsmpblr #fablesmpblr #fable smp #fablesmp rae #sparkrambles #fablesmp icarus #icarus morningstar #athena morningstar #Rae morningstar #Ulysses themist #fablesmp ulysses #fablesmp ocie

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cyberneticdreamscape · 2 months

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THE DRIPPING DREAM OF A RED-HEADED WHORE

This story can be found as a dedicated page on my blog: Here

This story features a number of kinks, primarily: Rape \ Stalking

===============================================

In the silence of the night, dear little Rachael dreamed. Perhaps it was of fantasy, perhaps a twist of experience, perhaps something entirely different, but she dreamed on and on…

===============================================

In a time long past, another world perhaps, resided a friendly little red-haired woman who caught the eye of all who looked her way. She was adored by many, but coveted by her caretaker, who would give anything to keep her safe, but sometimes paths can wander. Everywhere she went, this sweet, innocent red-head would don her cut-off scarlet leather jacket, an eye-catching accessory that made her shine out clear as day in any crowd. For this reason, many began calling her “little red biker girl,” though everyone knew she’d never ridden a motorcycle in her life.

As time passed, a day soon came when her caretaker placed a hand on her shoulder, saying “My sweet little Red, be a doll and take this care package to your friend across town, won’t you? I know she hasn’t been feeling well since her breakup, so spend some time with her, help her feel better.” And with that, he handed Red a small backpack, filled with a variety of treats, drinks, and other little goodies. “Oh, and do keep to the path should you cut through the park. I know you love to adventure, but it will be much more difficult to cross the creek without the bridge.”

And with that, Red was off. Down the road. Cross the busy avenue. And into the park.

As Red walked, she could feel the glances of everyone she passed. Eventually, as she passed by a park bench, she could hear a voice chiming through the music that her headphones had been pumping straight into her ears. “Hey now, long time no see, little red biker girl. It’s not often you’re out on your own.” She stopped and looked over, her eyes finding a man sat on the bench, hand in a gentle fist against his chin, eyes glaring up and down her outfit. Almost immediately she recognized him, a resident of the area who often spent his weekends relaxing in the sunny beams that flooded the park’s path. “Oh hey, Mr. Wulver! Sorry, but I can’t really talk, I need to get this over to my friend!” She bounced her bag playfully and smiled to him. “Is that so? And what’s in that cute backpack of yours, little Red?” the man inquired, an eyebrow raised. She stepped to the bench, sat down and unzipped the bag, showing him the multitude of treats stowed away under canvas protection. “Your friend wouldn’t happen to live to the South-East of the park, would she?” Mr. Wulver asked, placing his arm on the back of the bench, behind Red. “She does. The apartment complex just a block away, why?” Red tilted her head, confused as to why that mattered. “Ah… Well, you see, the Eastern entrance is closed right now, they’re repairing the arch over the gate, but some kids recently busted the fence just South of it. It’d be fastest to cut off the path and squeeze through the opening they’ve made.” His hand gestured in the general direction he spoke up, pointing between the thicker trees and brush. Red looked in the direction of his gesture, and he dropped something small in her bag. “Oh… that’s really good to know. Thank you so much, sir!” Red leaped up, and was off again, straying off the path, between the trees, and through the brush.

As she approached the creek, she remembered what her caretaker had said about the difficulty she’d have in crossing it. She glanced around and saw a fallen tree, a bridge gifted by nature, and just through the trees beyond, she could see the iron of the fence, her destination. Carefully, one step at a time, Red slowly crossed the flowing water of the creek. It may not be deep, but the last thing she wants is to get her tights and shoes all wet and muddy! Just as she reached the other end, she slipped, but instead of falling in the mud, she found herself gripped, pulled up to her feet before she’d landed. And there stood a masked man, eyes fixed on her, burning like a wolf seeking a meal.

“Th…thank you…” she stuttered, her heartbeat speeding up. “I really need to go to…” Before she finished her thought, she found the man’s hand on her throat, eyes piercing into her own as his other hand gripped her ass under her skirt. With not a word, the man groped her. Hands gripping tight. Pressing against her soft skin. Fingers pushing against her panties, pushing into her holes through the fabric as she gasped under his grip. She writhed, she clenched, she whimpered… And then… He let go.

Red’s heart was racing as the man who had been molesting her mere moments ago simply turned around and walked away, past the trees and out of sight. She collected her thoughts, adjusted her outfit, fixed her panties, feeling how damp they were, and scurried off towards the fence. “Just… get there and I can hang out with her, that’s all…” Red whispered to herself as she approached the bent iron bars before squeezing through the gap.

As Red entered the apartments, she rang the bell for her friend’s unit. The system rang. Picked up. A gentle voice answered with a soft, almost whimpering “Y…yes?” “It’s me, Jess! I’ve got a gift for you, can you let me in?” Red giggled and wiggled, excitedly pulling the straps of her bag, even though her friend could not see. Without a word, the call ended, the door unlatched, and Red hurried to the elevator.

As Red came upon her friend’s door, she noticed it was held ajar by a doorstop. “She must have propped it open for me, how nice.” Red thought to herself. In she stepped. Lights off. Curtains shut. Silence.

“Jess? You here?” No answer. “Honey? You ok?” A shuffling sound, a slight whimper. Red stepped further in, the door closing shut behind her. She flipped the light-switch, and was immediately gripped from behind.

Before her was Jess, bound snugly to one of her dining chairs. Pantyhose torn. Cum dripping from her cunt. A giddy look on her face as she drooled through a makeshift gag of her own panties.

Red felt a familiar hand on her throat, then heard a familiar voice in her ear. “What a tight little hole your friend has. So wet and snug for pumping full of cum.” Red writhed and broke free, turning around to find the masked man from before. “And what beautiful moans she whimpered, pleading for more, isn’t that right, Jess?” Jess whimpered and nodded. Red grabbed the man’s mask and pulled. Mr. Wulver. “Now, now, Jess said you’d make a perfect treat. She was begging me to make you her drippy little whore sister, if I recall.” He gripped her tight, tighter than by the creek, and forced his knee between her legs.

Red looked into his eyes, seeing only the burning desire from before, now tenfold. She saw only a wolf, drooling with hunger. He saw only a meek little sheep, ripe for consumption.

Red heard tearing fabric. Red felt herself being pinned to the wall. Red whimpered and gasped as she was stretched around throbbing cock.

Thrust after thrust. She looked aside to see Jess humping in her chair, happy as could be.

Pounding deep inside her dripping cunt. Red gripped the man who was taking her, body pulsing, nearly convulsing, as she was thrown into an orgasm. And moments later, she felt herself being pumped full.

Laying in bed… Red and Jess, side by side. Jess kissed her. Fingered her. Comforted her. And Mr. Wulver took her. Flooded her. Stretched her. Her mouth was next. Then her tight little ass. She was used, thoroughly broken, laying limp, dripping with seed as she caught her breath.

And then, the door opened, and in came her caretaker. He shook his head, looked to Wulver and said “A deal is a deal.” Red was confused, head spinning, as her caretaker leaned over her, kissed her gently and whispered “I’ve wanted this for so long.” He gripped her hair, sat her upright, and pressed his cock deep inside of Jess, gripping Red’s throat and kissing her again before continuing. “Old’ Wulver here made Jess his whore, just like you’re mine. So we arranged a little joint session of sorts.” He laughed, Jess moaned, and Red looked at her caretaker, her lover, longingly, knowing this would be the first of many experiences between the four of them.

===============================================

The sun rose, and Rachael awoke. Panties soaked through, humping her blanket as she had slept. She immediately picked up her phone and called her friend. “Jess… I had the dream again… can you please come over with that wolf of yours today…”

#cyberneticdreamscape #cyber.txt #cyber.stories #r@pe k!nk #st4lking kink #cnc kink #cnc free use #exhibition kink #corruption kink

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rainbowxocs · 3 months

Text

The Cultivators Demise.

by Angel and Morgan.

A big part of The Hospital's story was done between the two of us. So I decided to compile it together as a short story, this is one of my favorite climaxes I have ever written for one of my stories. I hope that you enjoy it. :)

Also jesus christ this is 33 pages long. Dear god we write a lot.

Some general TWS: Mentions of Child Abuse, Child Death, and other things of that nature.

After many, days? weeks? The two of them weren't sure anymore. Ana and Mouse were close to giving up after falling down into the depths of The Hospital. Ana felt extremely defeated, she had never even been outside of her section let alone the rest of this place, and now she was stuck. There weren't even any nurses to take her back to her room.

"So we gotta get to the place after the Ikea but before the quiz show? Do we have to like. Go backwards through everything we did?" Mouse said.

”I don’t know.. I mean.. We fell downwards into.. wherever we are.. Is there even a way to get back up?” Ana gripped onto her sweater tightly, slightly rocking back and forth. She began to mumble to herself. ”What if this is hopeless…”

"It's only hopeless if you give up, we can totally do this. Just gotta get where we need to go first!" Moira, Mouses... Dog? knocked into Ana affectionately. Ana sheepishly gave her a pat telling her she is a good.. thing, she's still not sure what a dog is.

Ana looks up to the ceiling before taking a deep breath. ”I guess.. we.. go up..?”

Mouse looked around, taking stock of their surroundings while Moira dug at the grass a little bit. Ana looked pensively at the ground before seeming to start walking in a random direction, the other two following close behind her, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious.

Ana knew from living here that all she needed to do was find a seam, if she could find the seam she could find a way out of this seemingly looping place. She held her hand out and seemed to glitch her hand through a “wall”, causing her to fall forward.

Mouse and the hound exchanged a glance and then followed through after Ana. Mouse tumbled and nearly face planted as she came through. Moira landed gracefully, but seemed to have more of an impact than a dog her size should.

"Well.. This is worse.." Ana sighed, softly bonking her head against the checkered floor.

""Uh- this is certainly something alright" Mouse said, standing up and lifting Ana off her feet. The ground began to freeze below them as Ana began to raise her voice. ”UGH! We’re just more lost than we were before-“

Mouse put a hand on Ana's shoulder. "Well. If there's pillars there's gotta be a roof and walls somewhere, right?" Ana, not seeming to get it glared at Mouse. ”So?“

"Gotta go up, right? Walls go up. I guess pillars do too. But I don't think I can climb those." Ana threw her hands up in the air in exasperation, moving away from Mouse. ”OH YEA- Sure! Let me just DEFY gravity real quick! This is hopeless- You can't keep acting like we will get out of this!” Ana stomped over to a pillar during her ranting, walking up the side as if gravity doesn’t affect her, she of course didn’t notice.

Mouse looked up at Ana and shook her head. ".. I'm going. To just accept this. Sure." Mouse walked up the pillar with Moira at her side ending up diagonal to Ana. Ana looked at them and then down before realizing her predicament. She gives a sheepish smile, and makes her way up the pillar with the two of them.

"Has. Has this been possible the whole time and we've just not tried? Or is it just this level?" Mouse questioned Ana, to which she just gave a simple shrug. Mouse noted it for later, and continued upwards.

The three of them walk up the pillar until the world flips upside down, the group beginning to walk on the ceiling, There was a door in the distance. Ana excitedly ran for it, opening the door and appearing in another room. She wilted at the sight of just another room.

”I’m so- tired- of this-“ Ana said.

"We're close. We can do this. " Mouse gave Ana a reassuring smile, before looking at the text scattered across the walls.

”We are just going around in a circle- We keep going around and around- how do we even know there’s an ex-“ Ana bumped into one of the walls, seeming to noclip through it, leaving Mouse in the room.

"I think the secret might just be to say what you want to happen cant happen and then be proven wrong?" She said to Moira, before following Ana.

Ana and Mouse finally made it back. Section 1 Floor 1 of The Hospital. Somewhere actually familiar. Mouse pulled out her axe and Ana picked herself up from the ground, looking around nervously. ”We.. did… it…?- this… feels too… easy..”

"Whoever's in charge of this place does want us to get caught, and this had the most.. "nurses" wandering around from what I saw. We're almost certainly walking into a trap" Mouse paused. "I Mean- we got this!" Mouse said.

Ana looked down, the room getting colder. ”I.. wish.. I knew what we were walking into.. I was never allowed down here..” Ana paused for a second, taking in the... silence...? The familiar whispering and humming of the walls was noticeably absent.

”Does.. it feel… quiet to you…” Ana said, turning to Mouse.

"Not to sound cliche but... I got a bad feeling about this. Be ready to bolt." Moira seemed to grow larger than she was before. and? Mouse put? an earbud in?

Ana seemingly distracted, rubbed her hand across the yellow colored walls. ”…..I… can’t.. hear the walls… They.. aren’t talking…. I.. don’t think they’ve.. ever shut up before..”

"Maybe they're napping." She smirked. " Let's wake em up. get ready to run." Mouse's posture shifted, she flipped the hatchet in her hand and raised her other hand to her mouth, letting out a shrill NYC Taxi-Cab whistle.

”IS IT A GOOD IDEA TO ANNOUNCE OUR POS-“ There was a slight rumbling noise before hundreds upon thousands of hands start to break out of the walls, trying to grab Ana and Mouse. The alarms blaring in their ears.

Everything happened so fast. Mouse grabbed Ana's hand and bolted down the nearest hallway, Moira hot on their heels. They darted down hallways and through open rooms, Mouse seemed to change direction at random. There didn't seem to be any pattern to her movements, and if she actually had any idea on where to go or the layout of this place the three of them would have a good shot at making it. But every hallway looks the same, and every wall seems to have been replaced with a writhing mass of arms reaching for them. Eventually they round the wrong corner-

And something or Someone? grabbed them both, before either of the girls could react they seemed to be pulled upwards through the ceiling and thrown into some sort of black circular room, the hands were gone and the force let’s them go. Ana probably suffering from a concussion from the fall but it’s probably fine, They both tried to move but Ana and Mouse were restrained by some sort of vine. Through their blurry vision they could see a desk in the middle, and the infamous woman they had been looking for sitting at it. Nurse Camilla, Head Nurse of the Hospital.

”You both have allot of fucking nerve with the stunt you pulled.” Camilla said, glaring daggers into the two girls. Ana stared at her “mother” speechlessly, just, staring, and shaking.

Mouse scoffed. "Oh no, a woman." Mouse had a very good poker face, she had the confidence of someone with 5 aces. But also probably just trying to pull attention away from Ana.

Camilla put her hands together, resting her chin upon them, staring at Mouse. The two girls restraints tighten, before Daisy walked out from the behind of the two girls, she stood behind Camilla like a good little solider and glared at the two of them. Camilla focused in on Mouse, staring at her. ”Who are you… You are not a patient here.. You have no reason to be here..”

Mouse pretends to not notice the tightened restraints. "I have several reasons to be here actually. I think my dog isn't a dog, and I heard there's a hospital around here who specializes in that kind of thing. Of course I only want the highest quality doctors, what nursing school did you attend by the way?"

”Cut the bullshit. I’m not here to play games with you, explain yourself.” Camilla said, losing her temper a little bit.

"I know lots of things, and sometimes I tell people what they think they want to know. I've got some cool tricks, but I'm not really anything all that special. Kind of like you, huh? Just a person who got caught up in all of this?" Mouse said.

”In a way yes.” Camilla sighed and pinched her bridge of her nose. ”I’m losing focus. This isn’t about you... We will send you to wherever you come from, you do not belong here with the others..”

Mouse grimaced a bit. "Uh yeah good luck with that, sure. What makes someone belong here? i've only met like one decent person this whole time."

”You aren’t sick. You don’t need to be here.” Camilla said dismissively.

"Oh really? That's impressive since i've never been to a doctor. Except for that elf- but he doesn't count he was just trying to get information on the resistance." Mouse said, completely seriously.

”Wh-…." Camilla blinked. "Okay yknow we don’t have time to unpack all of that. The point I am trying to make is, We will send you home and you can forget any of this ever happened. It will just be a bad dream.“

"This is considerably better than where I was the last like, four times. not completely though, the hand-walls are not my favorite aesthetic. " Mouse said, before Daisy chimed in. ”They’re not USUALLY hand walls. You guys just made the walls mad.” She said, coldly.

”Shut up Daisy- Just-" Camilla took a deep breath. "Where do you want to go and we will throw you there with some bus money or something.”

"I don't think you can reach where I want to go. And I'm not going without Ana." Despite her calm demeanor, she seemed relatively serious when she said that.

Camilla looked at Mouse with confusion. ”Ana..?” Daisy glitched a bit, before turning to Camilla. "She means.. Her.." Daisy said, pointing to Ana to which Camilla began to laugh hysterically. ”You call that thing Ana? That’s not Ana-“ She said, laughing almost to the point of tears.

"Deadnaming is cringe. You're a bitch. multiple people can have the same name. I know like eight Camilla's" Camilla couldn't seem to stop laughing at Mouse's remarks. ”AHAHA. Oh my god it’s completely convinced you it’s a person, that’s honestly so hilarious.” She said, wiping the tears from her eyes.

Mouse leaned down, half whispering to Ana. "This lady thinks she's helping people? really? I know we're all the heroes of our own story but dehumanizing blatantly sentient creatures is just asking for an animal farm situation at LEAST."

Ana seemed completely out of it, dissociating from her "mothers" presence, ice seemed to be spreading across the floor at a rapid rate. Though Daisy and Camilla do not seem to notice.

”It is mimicking the exact behavior that it knows you would feel the most sympathy for. It mimicked my daughter for gods sake- It doesn’t have any shame in itself..” Camilla said, crossing her arms.

"That's called people pleasing, Cami. A lot of abuse victims do that. Kind of cringe of you to dehumanize neurodivergent traits. As far as i can tell you've just traumatized a bunch of people, and if they really are sick then that's just monstrous. Ironic, isn't it?" Mouse glared at Camilla.

Camilla sighed. ”I literally do not know how to explain to you that it is not a person- It cannot be neurodivergent, it cannot be abused, it’s just manipulating you. The real Ana has suffered so much because of that thing.“

Mouses eyes darkened. "You can abuse anything that's alive, that's why animal abuse is a criminal charge, so your point is nul on that front. and if i was to accept that Ana isn't a person despite everything, and you're right in your attitude towards this, how did your Ana get near this one? Because. that would be your fault for allowing your child to be in a dangerous situation. At minimum it's child neglect or reckless endangerment, which is the parent's fault. you don't leave your kid with an aggressive dog. You don't dehumanize a child and expect their powers not to act up. you've created this hell, it's on you. "

Camilla slammed her hands down on the table in front of her, standing up. ”I didn’t create this place- And Ana wa-… is.. was.. I don’t know anymore with her. A… troubled child.. I didn’t even realize what she had done until it was too late-" Daisy shivered at that, though she couldn't tell if it was Camilla's words or if the room had gotten colder.

"Neglecting a neurodivergent child? Gotcha. This is definitely not your fault, it's gotta be the other responsible adult whose job is looking after their child. What did your kid do, exactly? Because if Ana is copying her, and displaying hypothermia symptoms, then did you let your kid freeze to death or some shit? And maybe you didn't create this place, but someone sure as hell chained it and all signs point to you. Do you know what happens when you chain wild magic? When you cage something destined to be free? Do you know what you're fucking with on any level? you clearly didn't even know how to handle one kid, how can you manage this place? Dumb bitch" Mouse covertly glanced at Ana, and then at Moira. Moira struggled against the force of her bonds.

Camilla paused, Mouses words seemingly stabbing her like a dagger. ”Ana didn’t- I. I have done.. so much for her... I did all of this for her I sacrificed everything for her- Don’t you dare try to tell me about wild magic, you have no idea what it’s like for your child to be stolen away like that- You don't know what I have had to endure."

Mouse sneered at that. "Oh poor you. You had a kid and a shot at a happy family and ruined it for power, I'm so sorry for you. Out of the two of us, you're absolutely the one who has held a child as she bleeds to death. you're the one who tried to give the last of your warmth to the boy dying in the blizzard when you had nothing else to give. You are the one who has raised five children when you didn't have enough to feed yourself. YOU are the person who found a half dead baby in a garbage bag and made sure it survived. And I guess that makes me the one who was so busy creating a "Perfect World" i didn't have time to make sure the person I was responsible for was safe."

Camilla looked like a deer in the headlights. ”I-“ Before Camilla could speak the whole room turned into ice and snow, Ana had broken out of her restraints, She breathed heavily before locking eyes with her "Mother". She lunged towards her but Camilla dodged, putting Daisy between her and Ana and escaping into a staff hallway.

Moira lunged from her restraints, her form shifts as she moved and a black dragon stood in her place, puffing a bit of fire to melt the ground just below Mouse as she falls to the ground, so she wouldn't slip. Mouse is moving the second she hits the ground, heading for the door Camilla just went through, before pausing for just a moment and taking stock of the room. "Ana, are you good to chase? Daisy, are you okay?"

Daisy blocked the door, reaching into her pockets and pulling out her knives. She stared daggers into the two girls, or at least she would be if you could actually see her eyes. Ana cowered at Daisy's gaze, cowering backwards behind Moira, her gaze was transfixed on Daisy.

Daisy seemingly glitches in and out. The room seemingly filling with static feeling. "Oh.. So you recognize me?"

"Yeah. Took me a while to get back here, sorry about that. It seems someone was blocking me. Moira, warm up Ana for me." Mouse said. Ana seemingly snapping out of her trance, fell to her knees, shivering violently. "cold-" Moira, gently slipped up behind Ana and blew fire on the ground in front of her. Not hot enough to burn her, but the heat reflecting off the dragons scales warmed her from both sides.

Ana snuggled up to Moira appreciating the warmth she provided, however the whole scene seemed to make Daisy even more distorted than she already was. Daisy’s mask seemed to shift between a number of different emotions in quick succession. "Well. I will let bygones be bygones. As long as you leave here.. NOW..."

Mouse shrugged. "Sorry, I don't think I can do that. I've got a better handle on this stuff now, I don't think I'll get disconnected again. You two are in a bit of hot water and I need to finish my confrontation with Camilla."

Daisy’s form appeared to distort and crack, slowly elongating and turning into a monster like creature. Except it’s- wrong- it’s glitchy and absolutely covered in fungus. It’s like there was a rendering error except in real life. ”I am not going to let you ruin this for me..”

Mouse seemed to be glancing at the mushrooms sprouting from Daisy. "Daisy, you are as much the victim here as Ana is. I promised I would never lie to you. I am here to fix this. You might not like it at first, but everything about this place is wrong. I made a mistake last time, I thought I had enough time to help you. I am not making that mistake again."

Daisy began to laugh maniacally. ”Help me? I don’t need YOUR help. This is MY paradise. Everything was perfect until YOU showed up again- I thought you leaving me was bad enough but now you are taking the only bit of happiness I have left-“

"I am sorry I left. I don't have control over that shit, not much anyways. But your paradise is hurting other people. Can you honestly tell me you're still in control of your paradise? You've been exploited and hurt more than any child deserves, and I would like to talk to Camilla about this-" Mouse was cut off by a large crack forming in the walls and floor behind Daisy.

”I AM IN CONTROL” She screamed. ”I am NOT going to let you take this away from me. You’ll have to pry this from my CORPSE.”

"I am sorry for this then." Mouse bolted forward, faking one way then the other to get past Daisy. Daisy completely transformed into some sort of monstrous form, Daisy is gone, her mind is completely gone.

”I WILL KILL YOU, YOU RUINED EVERYTHING.” She blocked Mouse from the doorway and began to try and slash at her with her knives. The hatchet is back in Mouse's hand, and there's a long dagger in the other. They're both simple iron tools with silver engravings on them. But they will work for this.

"Okay then-" She ducked under one of Daisy's knives and slashed at a mushroom. That part of Daisy went back to normal, which seemed to make Daisy angrier. She slashed at Mouse wildly, not seeming to have much control over her body. "WHY DID YOU HAVE TO COME BACK?" Daisy made a low growling noise as her form shifted slightly, trying to grab at Mouse.

"Because I was not going to leave you to suffer again!" Mouse started moving around, dodging and weaving and lashing out to slash at mushrooms at every opportunity.

"YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHATS ON THE LINE FOR ME. I HATE YOU. THIS ISN’T FAIR. NONE OF THIS IS FAIR" Daisy attempted to trap mouse, however Mouse was too quick to be caught.

"I KNOW ITS NOT FAIR. IT'S ALSO NOT YOUR FAULT!" Mouse said, cutting off another mushroom.

Daisy began to cry, but she tried to hide it, her attacks seemed more and more desperate as she went on. "DON'T ACT LIKE YOU CARE ABOUT ME! YOU LOVE HER NOW!! EVERYONE LOVES HER!! EVERYONE IS SUPPOSED TO LOVE ME!! SHE NEEDS TO GO BACK IN HER BOX AND STAY THERE!!"

"WHY?" Slash.

"BECAUSE I HATE HER!" Stab.

"WHY?" Slash.

"BECAUSE SHE SHOULD HAVE TO GO THROUGH WHAT I WENT THROUGH- SHE SHOULDN'T GET TO ESCAPE- SHE SHOULDN'T GET TO COPY ME AND GET A GOOD LIFE-" Daisy screamed.

"MAYBE NEITHER OF YOU SHOULD HAVE TO GO THROUGH WHAT YOU WENT THROUGH?" Mouse said, quite desperately.

Daisy paused for a second, before attacking her harder. ”IT.. IT.. SHUT UP!! JUST SHUT UP!! SHUT UP!! SHUT UP!! DON'T BE NICE TO ME!! DON'T EMPATHIZE WITH ME”

"YOU ARE LITERALLY A CHILD, I WILL NOT TEAR YOU DOWN TO MAKE MYSELF MORE POWERFUL. THATS THE BARE FUCKING MINIMUM." Mouse cut off another mushroom, Daisy's form slowly began to turn to normal. Though she was still as violent as ever.

”I AM NOT A CHILD ANYMORE, I AM A GOD!" Daisy seemed to not notice how much of the fungus is now gone. She is so tired. She is so tired of all of this. of being a God.

"YOU NEED TO REST." Mouse said, cutting off yet another mushroom. Daisy wobbled a bit, she was using WAY too much of her powers, the world kept distorting in and out, you could practically feel the static.

Daisy stomped her feet, pulling at her hair in distress. "WHY DOESN'T ANYONE SAVE ME- WHY DOESN'T ANYONE HELP ME- I JUST- I NEED HELP- WHY DOES SHE GET WHAT THAT- WHY DOES SHE GET TO BE SAVED BUT I DON'T??"

"I." Slash "AM." Slash "HERE." Slash "TO SAVE" Slash "YOU BOTH!" And with that, the final mushroom fell to the floor.

Daisy shook a little before falling onto the ground, crying, She looked almost wilted, like a flower. ”I-IF.. If I don’t have this.. I’m- I’m nothing- This is the only way I can make everyone stay-“

Mouse dropped to the ground next to her. She is somehow almost entirely unharmed, even after that fight. She pulled Daisy into a hug. "The people who matter will stay anyways. I will stay here as long as I can. And now, I know how to come back."

Daisy began to full on sob, as she hugged Mouse, gripping her fingers into her back. ”I-I’m sorry… I don’t know why I did this… I’m so sorry…”

"This wasn't your fault. This was the Cultivator. and Camilla." Mouse took a deep breath. "I'm going to go. have a confrontation. with those two. Can you and Ana stay with Moira for now? I will come back."

Daisy seemed a bit reluctant but let go of Mouse, sniffling. ”..Mom most likely went to go and warn him.. He’s on the top floor of the staff hallway.. if you take the elevator you will find them..."

Mouse gave Daisy another really tight squeeze, before leaning back slightly and reaching into her pocket to give Daisy a stone with.. a symbol? written on it. "This is my promise that I will come back to you, Okay? It'll take a lot more than some eldritch deity to take me down for the count."

Daisy looked at the stone in awe, before looking back up at Mouse. ”Y..you’re going to come back..?”

Mouse smiled at Daisy. "Definitely. There is a chance I will get pulled from here again.. I am dealing with some bad people of my own and they keep sending me places and pulling me back. But if you have that, I can pull myself here again. Especially if you call me. unless I die or whatever but so far nothing has been able to manage that."

Daisy pulled the stone close to her chest and nodded. ”Okay.. I’ll.. trust you…”

Mouse nodded. "Okay. I will be right back. I'm going to fix this." Mouse stood up, and as she does so something about her seems to change. where she was compassionate and casual before, is now hard lines and harsh eyes. She popped an earbud in and walked towards the door.

Mouse made it down the hallway, entering the elevator and pressing the top button. After several minutes of waiting she produced a wooden flute, making her own elevator music as she waited. Now that she knows the full extent of The Cultivator and Camilla's cruelty, there was a certainty in her movements. When the elevator door opened, Mouse stepped out to what appeared to be a moving train. This place has so many OSHA violations it is insane. The train is filled to the brim with flowers and mushrooms, you couldn’t see out the windows even if you tried.

"This is very reversed from most situations I've been in. Usually people are chasing me into weird situations." Mouse picked her way through the train, her soft-booted feet silent on the petals. She glanced out the windows, half expecting something to burst through a window.

Like most places in The Hospital, the train feels infinite. The further you go in the colder and more dead it feels. The train slowly became more glitchy and with a purple hue to it, until she reaches the end. Inside the conductors chamber a VERY tall figure stands, He is vaguely humanoid but his form is just- wrong there’s so many eyes and so many hands- He appears to be speaking with Camilla before cracking his neck towards Mouse.

"Oh, It's you. Welcome back." The Cultivator, the one and only stands before Mouse. Mouse's poker face is impressive. There seemed to be a spark of something in her eyes, and her lips are quirked into a smirk, there's a complete confidence about her but it feels. Practiced. A mask to hide behind. She picked a set of eyes to meet and gave a slight nod of acknowledgement, otherwise saying nothing.

"I.. apologize, for all the inconvenienced my staff has caused you." The Cultivator stretched out an arm and his arm began to move around the room, grabbing a tea set. "Can I offer you some tea?"

"I had a big breakfast- or lunch- it's hard to tell around here." She murmured, not wanting to take food from a weird entity, there are always strings attached to this kind of shit.

"Ah, what a shame." He seemed... disappointed? For a moment before snapping back to pleasantries. The Cultivator handed the tea set to Camilla. Who seemed hesitant to go and put it back up because of needing to go near Mouse. "Well I will send you on your way then. You must have come all this way to go home, right?"

"Actually I wanted to finish the confrontation I was having with Camilla. we were interrupted because she gave her child a panic attack and ran away." Mouse said, casually. Camilla's eyes seemed to dart between the girl and the creature.

The cultivator... smiles..? "Oh now Camilla, why do you always do that? Tsk... Humans and their silly emotions..." He claps his hands together. "Well there is no need to fight. I am sure we can resolve this issue peacefully."

"Oh this is not emotional. You see Camilla has broken most human laws pertaining to child abuse and endangerment and is impersonating a nurse while she holds no medical license so even though child abuse makes me furious, that has no impact on the objective crimes she has committed in her search for power." Mouse said.

The Cultivator chuckled. "Aw cmon now. Let's be serious. That's a bit of an over exaggeration no?"

"It fascinates me how far people are willing to go to gloss over child abuse sometimes." Mouse crossed her arms.

The Cultivator put his hands up defensively. "Hey, I just work here. It's not like I created the rules or anything."

Mouse looked at the creature coldly. "That doesn't really affect the fact that Camilla has dehumanized her child to the fact that her child doesn't know their own goddamn name. Also, nobody has been able to explain to me what your "patients" are sick with."

"They're just..." The Cultivator spun his hands around, seeming to try and find an explanation. "sick"..."

"Mentally or physically?" Mouse questioned. "Is it a contagious disease? if so no one is using the proper equipment. give me a name for the illness or some proof that it exists beyond people not fitting the mold you think they should."

The Cultivator sighed, crossing one of his sets of arms. "Aw cmon, don't be like that."

Mouse shrugged. "It's a simple question, how can you run a 'Hospital" and not know what the name of the illness is?"

The Cultivator paused. "This isn't really a "Hospital", You should already know that by now no?"

"This is a unique realm, I'm simply using the only name i have for it. No one here is actually sick are they? Except whatever that fungus is doing." Mouse said.

The Cultivator shrugged. "Well, no. Not in the human sense anyway. There's no influenza running about or anything."

"I haven't seen any recognizable magical illnesses either. and if it's a mental thing, this is the opposite of how you manage that shit. I'm shocked Camilla's kid hasn't committed suicide or something by now, this is a fucked way to live. I've seen dogs taken from owners that were being treated better than the living people of this realm." Mouse spat.

The Cultivator laughs, though it’s a bit distorted. "Why would Ana do such a thing? She wanted all of this. This is her paradise."

"Which Ana? the one who you were referring to by a number and just had a mental breakdown because she doesn't know who she is anymore? or the one who imprinted on a child dying of hypothermia and has been suffering ever since?" Mouse glances at Camilla "have you ever had Hypothermia? It feels like your bones have turned to ice. your eyelashes freeze and blinking hurts. breathing hurts, touching something warmer than ice feels like touching a hot iron. it's suffering. and if you say my Ana is just mimicking your daughter, then your daughter must have gone through that. How old was she when that happened?"

”It was an accident- I didn’t mean for her to escape like th-“ The Cultivator cut Camilla off. "The Real Ana, is fine. She is just going through some... growing pains... So to speak. It's nothing of concern."

"See if your child has to escape there's already some cause for concern. Did you expect her to stay a child forever? That's a goddamn teenager. she's going to rebel and turn into her own person. you're job is to support that, not force her into a mold. actually, i feel like forcing things into molds to be the way you want them to is a big theme around here, isn't it. and somehow, you think that is what a child wanted years ago." Mouse said.

"Ana begged me to create this place. I don't think she is as unwilling of a participant as you think she is." The Cultivator walks over and plucks up a Rhodotus mushroom. "She came to me when she was dying, and I saved her. I gave her everything she could ever possibly want. I gave her parents, friends, a place to grow up."

"What of everyone else who lives here? Why do the walls scream?" Mouse questioned.

"Eh. Minor side effect. This world is not meant to be controlled. But it makes the child happy." He fidgets with the mushroom in his hands. "She is mine after all, I have to keep her happy."

Mouse eyes the mushroom suspiciously. That fungus stuff hasn't been a positive to anything it's interacted with. "You've got to understand that that sounds really bad. That's supervillain shit to say."

The Cultivator… frowns…? "That's not very nice. I think I am quite helpful."

"You are very helpful, Cultivator. I understand more than I did before." Mouse seemed to be lost in thought for a moment. and then she met the Cultivator's eyes again. ".... You know.... A friend of mine had some pretty shitty parents. They looked happy on the outside, going for ice cream and doing all the family outing stuff... but they really did not like each other. they kept their child around for selfish reasons, and hurt her when no one was looking so she would stay in line... There are a lot of people who hurt for their own reasons, and any bad that happens from it is considered. well. a 'minor side effect'"

"Hm? Is that so?" The Cultivator seemed to be playing with the mushroom now. "You seem to be very passionate about this sort of thing. I can commend you for that."

"I do my research. I dislike watching people suffer." Mouse still had the same casual calculated air about her, but her eyes kept darting around the room, taking in every detail, regularly focusing on the pink Mushroom. A faint sound of Discord by The Living Tombstone playing from the earbuds hanging around her neck.

The air in the room shifts, as The Cultivator seems to drop his mask just a little. "So, What is your plan then little mouse?" The Cultivator plucks another mushroom, this one being an Inkcap, and begins to juggle them. "How do you plan on being the big strong hero hm? Because even though I do commend your efforts in other universes, I am in possession of not only Ana's soul, but your little mimic friends as well."

The Cultivator smirks. "Every living being here, belongs to me. Besides you. So, what is your grand master plan hm?"

"Universes, realms, planes, they all blend together. I can't do much. just human, after all. just two or three little things." Almost absently Mouse plucked a mushroom off of a nearby window frame.

The Cultivators demeanor seemed to darken. "I think you should run back home, Little Mouse. Your friends are fine here."

"They aren't fine. They are surviving. there is a difference." Mouse paced, as if deep in thought. some emotion was showing in her eyes now. is the mask cracking? her pacing brought her nearer to Camilla.

"Hm, well. In my opinion surviving is a lot better than freezing to death." The Cultivator said. Camilla began to look back and forth between her boyfriend and Mouse, she seemed to not want to be here.

"Surviving is okay. it's what you have to do when you're in trouble. Living is even better. it's what people are made to do." Mouse carefully perched the mushroom on one of the weird train levers.

The Cultivator stepped a bit closer to Mouse, attempting to tower over her. "I am not your enemy, you know... All I want to do is protect you from all this mess..."

"I dislike liars. What do you think, Camilla?" While talking and fidgeting with the mushrooms, Mouse had gotten much closer to Camilla.

Camilla stepped back, it seemed like she was almost shaking a bit. ”I- Don’t know what you think you’re doing but you need to step back from me-“

Mouse shifted, as if she was trying to cut Camilla off from The Cultivator. Camilla, in a panic threw the tray she was holding at Mouse, however she missed and the glass shattered all over the floor.

The Cultivator lets out a huge sigh. "Oh my fucking god-" he took a deep breath before placing the mushrooms down and levitating all the broken glass. "This was my favorite tea set you know. It has lead in it so it leeches into the tea."

”But she-“ Camilla was cut off by The Cultivator waving his hand dismissively.

In an instant, Mouse darted forward and grabbed the soul-shrooms, putting them in one of her belt pouches. "Pleasure doin business with ya." Mouse said sarcastically before turning towards the door, as if to leave.

The Cultivator snapped his head back towards Mouse. "YOU BRAT" The Cultivator lunged towards Mouse and grabbed her with his sharp claws, before laughing at her. "DID YOU REALLY THINK YOU COULD ESCAPE THAT EASILY?"

The belt vanished from her waist, along with the pouches and everything in them. "Oh we're yelling now? Mature. very mature." Mouse summoned her dagger and attempted to slash at his chest, which caused The Cultivator to laugh more. "YOU CANNOT KILL ME IN A WAY THAT MATTERS." When Mouse slashed at him, instead of blood just itty bitty mushrooms started pouring out of him. It seemed that he was the sickness this whole time.

"I'm going to take that as a challenge" She twisted in his grip, bringing an arm up and throwing a knife- at Camilla? Camilla, having been stabbed in the torso, stumbles for a moment before collapsing onto the floor. The Cultivator seemed to be actually stunned, not being able to process what the fuck just happened for a few seconds. Which allows Mouse to break free of the Cultivator's grasp, looking around for. Anything that kills mushrooms, probably.

On the floor, Mouse saw a lighter, if The Cultivator truly is a plant, maybe she can burn this fucker to the ground. Mouse's main role model was Firebird after all. She dived for the Lighter, rolling to her feet and sparking it, with that same poker face. This time it's a real flame that reflects in her eyes. She dropped the lighter in a patch of fungus, that caught and quickly spread to the pile at the Cultivator's feet from his wound. A pyre made from his own 'blood' set him alight.

Mouse paused before realizing what she did. "Wait fuck i just killed a mother-"

However, The Cultivators screams filled the room as he burnt alive. He screams in a language that Mouse didn't seem to understand until he and Camilla were nothing but a pile of ashes as the room went ablaze. When he dies, the room begins to glitch, Mouse could hear hundreds of voices loudly chanting until everything turned into light. When Mouse woke up from the light, she had been transported into a forest.

She looked around the serene forest. She grew up in dirty cities and back-alleys, but always loved the woods. It's very calm and quiet, and she sat in that tranquility for a moment. Before a girl emerging from the flowers broke her distraction. She looked human.. but also familiar.. It's Daisy...

”This.. This is where I died.. how.. How am I back..?” She mumbled to herself not realizing anyone was around. Mouse straightened, focusing on the girl. She took a step forward, purposefully stepping on a stick so her approach will be heard. "Daisy, are you alright?"

Daisy jumps, but then calms down after seeing Mouse. ”Oh.. It’s just you.. I..” Daisy looks down at herself, almost in confusion.. ”I.. don’t know.. I’m…" Daisy begins to laugh and cry at the same time. ”I guess I’m back in the real world now..”

Mouse sat beside Daisy, taking in the scenery. Mouse's belt reappeared at some point, and she reaches back into the pouch, drawing out the pink mushroom. "I think this belongs to you, doesn't it?"

Daisy seemed shocked, looking at the mushroom. "You.. have my soul..?" Daisy seems a bit speechless, staring at it. "I don't.. know if I deserve it back..."

Mouse frowned, holding Daisy's hands gently. "Daisy.. Souls are not something you earn, okay? This is yours, and it always has been. You've done so well in a very bad situation, okay? and anyways. Somebody needs to take care of it, right?"

Daisy thinks for a moment, before hesitantly taking the mushroom. It glows before flying back into her. Daisy puts a hand over her heart. The two of them sitting in the silence for a moment.

Daisy looked up at Mouse. "I don't know where I am going to go... It's not like I can go back home..."

"You can always make a new one." Mouse suggested.

Daisy sniffled, pulling knees up into her chest. ”I tried to make a new one and I made everything worse..”

Mouse sighed a little and nodded. "It's very hard to find a place to belong. sometimes we make everything worse. I think the trick is finding people who feel like home, and then finding a place together. I haven't found a place for me yet. Maybe I never will. but the people make the wandering worth it."

Daisy pondered what Mouse said for a moment. ”You’re really smart.. I wish.. I could be as smart as you..”

Moused laughed half-heartedly. "You've got time. I figured most of this stuff out a little too late. if you notice, my family isn't exactly here with me. Funny enough, it took a lot of alone time in a forest kind of like this for me to understand things this well."

Daisy laughed. "I think I've spent too much time in this forest... I still cannot believe I let myself make a deal with him... I was so stupid..."

Mouse frowned. "I think it's that guys fault for taking a kid- actually i don't have to finish that thought, technically I think you were coerced and kidnapped so none of this can fall on you. Did you know what you were even agreeing to in the moment?"

Daisy pauses... ”I.. don't know.. I remember when I escaped. It was so cold.. I was starving, and I kept wandering around the forest for ages, until I found him.." Daisy paused. "He told me that If I went with him. He would give me paradise."

Mouse paused. "Can I repeat that back to you? it might help you think a bit clearly on what happened." Daisy nodded a little, looking at Mouse intently.

"A strange man approached a ten year old who was about to die, offered her complete safety and everything she wanted, and then took her off to a place no one would be able to find her. Is that right? do you think that would be her fault?" Mouse explained, softly.

Daisy seemed to be a little shocked when Mouse explained it that way. ”…Well when you say It like that it sounds like those stranger danger PSAs I watched on Youtube..”

"Yeah, it does, Doesn't it? and all I did was repeat back what you told me." Mouse seems to be considering adding something else, debating on whether it would be a good idea or not.

Daisy looked down at the ground. ”He’s.. dead now.. right..?”

Mouse, hesitantly nodded. "Yeah. Honestly he was kind of. not strong. Dude had noodle arms. Really good at manipulation though."

Daisy chuckled, before a few more tears fell. ”Haha.. yea…” Daisy fidgeted with her sweater. ”Is.. my mom.." She paused. "Dead..? She.. always said she would die for him.. and he.. is dead.. so..”

Mouse hesitated. "I.... I did try to leave without fighting them.."

Daisy waved her hand dismissively. ”It’s okay.. She.." A few more tears fell. "That was always going to be the way.. she was probably going to go..” Daisy sniffled. ”She never would die for me.. but.. anyone else.. she would..”

Mouse, slowly pulled Daisy into a hug, comforting her. "I don't think she would have for anyone but him. It's. It's not your fault it was like this. I'm sorry I didn't do anything sooner."

Daisy laughed, solemnly. ”Mm.. it kind of is.. I think everyone was right about me... I am evil...”

"You had to escape your own home.. that implies you weren't safe or comfortable there. then you were picked up by an actual demon and trapped for years. I think you deserve some rebellion, as a treat" Mouse said.

Daisy smiled, snuggling into Mouse. "Maybe..."

There was a rustling coming from the brush, Ana made her way through the trees, batting away the leaves and walking towards the two of them. ”Why are there so many trees-“ Ana looked exactly the same as she did in the hospital, unlike Daisy. Moira, still in dragon form, is behind Ana. despite her large form, it's easy to lose track of her as she moves silently through the woods.

Mouse smiled. "That's what happens when you're in a forest, usually. You okay Ana?"

”I'm fine I think- My head hurts but it's-” Ana seemed to finally notice the girl in Mouse's arms. ”Oh.. It's.. You..”

Daisy seemed to shuffle awkwardly. "Hi..."

"Have you and Daisy formally met?" Mouse is a little shit and was fully aware that the two were on very... awkward terms.

Ana crossed her arms. ”Yes.. we have… met before…”

”She’s the amazing Ana… how could anyone forget her…” Daisy looked away from her. You could cut the tension with a knife.

"I always kind of wanted a sister. Like a real one I could fight with and then be friends again by the end of the day. someone who was actually on the same level as me and lived the same experiences, but i didn't have to raise because we were in the same boat. but that's just me I guess" Mouse said. Ana and Daisy seem to both look at Mouse in confusion.

”I don’t know.. if we could be considered sisters..” Ana said.

"They say that the Blood of the Covenant is thicker than the water of the womb... Those bonds are thicker than any genetic lottery might give you. Someone who's your blood sibling or parent might have less of a bond to you than the people you were really raised with or have a lot of shared experiences with. the people you choose to have bonds with are more important than the ones who are just, there. of course for some people it's one and the same. but not everyone." Mouse said.

The girls stared at each other. Seemingly not wanting to fully accept their similarities. Mouse laughed pulling Ana down with them and hugging the two girls, both of the girls settled in to the hug despite the awkwardness. Now, the girls had to tackle a much bigger challenge than just The Cultivator, the real world.

The three of them spent that night in a turmoil of emotions, excitement at their freedom and fear of what was coming next. The next morning Mouse pulled a laptop from- somewhere? And began looking into how this world worked. She seemed to be forging paperwork in Camilla's name. I suppose everyone has to start somewhere.

After all, every ending is simply the beginning of something new.

#mouse #daisy daisy bell #ana #Spotify #the hospital #short story #writing #writeblr #creative writing #daisy #daisy daisy #daisydaisyanswer

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slytherinshua · 1 year

Text

WE MEET AGAIN

genre. fluff. warnings. kissing. they kinda diss a person together lol. pairing. jinmichae/dried squid fairy x fem!reader. wc. 1k. request. no. a/n. was i the only one who didn't know he had a name... 🧍‍♀️ i know jinmichae = dried squid fairy but still i just didn't know 🧍‍♀️

The thing Jinmichae hated the most about story hopping is fitting into his role without struggle. From a prince to the school’s dried squid chef to a college professor. And now he was in this world where he was a… bodyguard? A bodyguard to whom? He hadn’t quite figured it out. The story had only just started. He presumed he was a side character again, and the thought came with a heavy sigh. When would he ever get his chance to love on the stage as well?

There was nothing he could do about his role or his fate to stick as a side character, for that matter. The writer did whatever the writer deemed best with little regard for the characters who obtained consciousness. Jinmichae had always been the first to do so. Maybe that was his fate instead. Being painfully aware of everything going on without being able to do anything about it.

There was one thing he did like about story hopping, though. If he was lucky enough, he would stumble across you as the story progressed. He liked to see what role the writer put you in this time. Jinmichae was at least thankful that both him and you were centre characters to be included every time. At least you still existed.

He hadn’t found you yet, though. He hadn’t had much chance. He was currently having all these thoughts while at a… conference? Meeting? Of sorts? The room was filled with dozens of other men dressed in similar suits to his, each with walkie-talkies and earpieces. At least the costume design was pleasing.

The stage ended quickly and Jinmichae was free to walk around and investigate this new world a bit. That’s the lie he told himself every time. “Investigate the new world”, what that really meant was look for you. Sometimes he would laugh at the role you were given if it didn’t suit your personality, sometimes he would just be in awe. Sometimes he just missed you a lot and didn’t even care.

With quick steps around the building he was in, he figured it was some sort of company or corporation. There were many meeting rooms and lobby areas filled scarcely with prettily dressed people. He approached the front desk to ask if there was a library in the building. With newfound directions, Jinmichae made his way up a spiralling staircase and into a quiet (and enormous) mahogany designed library. It took up the entire 4th floor of this corporate building.

“It’ll take forever to find it…” He let out a soft sigh, anticipating his search that would take hours just to find the comic book for this world.

“I wouldn’t say that.”

He turned immediately at the sound of your voice, finding you standing right behind him, comic book already in hand, a lazy smile splayed on your lips. He laughed astonishingly at how easily you had snuck up on him, and how you had already managed to find the book.

“Let me see the character list.” He murmured, walking to you, arm wrapping around your shoulder naturally. You relaxed into his touch, smelling the faint citrusy scent.

“She gave you a new cologne, huh?” You remarked, flipping open the book to the first page. Jinmichae only hummed, eyes flicking over the drawings of the characters.

“Looks like you’ve got the main role.” He whispered a little teasingly, “A rich heiress to the most successful company in South Korea? No wonder there’s so many bodyguards downstairs.”

“Wasn’t my idea.” You giggled, trying to find his character among the list. “Damn, not even a name. You’re just ‘bodyguard’.” You wheezed.

“Maybe I won’t have that many scenes, then.” He seemed at ease with it, both arms now wrapped around you, hugging you comfortably.

“Nice for you. Ugh, but look at my love interest. This just won’t do.” You scoffed, looking over the profile of the character. A wanted criminal, arms adorned with tattoos all the way up to his neck and too many piercings to count. You glanced back at Jinmichae to see his eyebrows furrowed in distaste.

“He probably smells like cigarettes.” He quipped, grip tightening on you slightly.

“Wouldn’t doubt it.” You sighed, turning around in his arms so you were now facing him, “When will the author ever realise that my type is not a walking colouring book. He really looks quite disgusting.” You fake gagged, making Jinmichae chuckle.

“Who is your type then?” He asked with fake curiosity, already knowing the answer better than anyone else.

“Hm… I do know of this blond guy, he used to smell like cedarwood, but apparently it's more orangey now. Anyway, he’s very fond of dried squid, and you know, so am I. Really a match made in heaven, if you asked me.” You rambled, humouring him. The longer you went on with the description, the harder it was for Jinmichae to keep a straight face, and eventually, he let out a laugh.

You glanced back at the drawing of your love interest one more time, scoffing again. “I’ll probably throw up if there’s a kiss scene.” You said, the chances not that low.

“If there is a kiss scene, I’ll come find you.”

“What for?” You looked back at him, adoring the way his eyes seemed to only want to look at you.

“To get his cigarette taste off your lips, of course.” He smiled and you grinned cheekily.

“You’re only a nameless bodyguard, though. Are you sure you have the power to do such a feat?” You liked teasing him, maybe a little too much.

“Shall I show you just how capable I am?” He suggested smoothly.

“We’re in a library.” You deadpanned.

Jinmichae’s eyes flicked over the very empty room, “An empty library.”

“At least get behind a bookshelf or something, we’re still in the entrance.” You said, already grabbing his wrist to lead him somewhere a bit more secluded. “Is it scandalous for an heiress to kiss her bodyguard?” You wondered aloud, your hand already travelling up to the base of his hair, fingers sliding through it softly.

“Not sure I’m the right person to ask.” He responded, lips finding yours a second later.

If it was truly scandalous, neither of you really cared.

↳ k-drama taglist: @yeonjuns-redhair,, @wolfmoonmusic

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the-fae-folk · 1 year

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What happens to humans who are spirited away to the Faerie realm?

Spirited away? What an interesting phrase. There are three main methods humans have of entering the realm of Faerie. The First, and most unlikely, is that the human knows a direct path, gate, or postern of some kind that will grant them entry into that entirely different world, to cross the boundary into the beyond with full intention and knowledge of what they will find there. They know the dangers, they understand the risk, and yet they will follow their own road, making their own choices. The Second method is accidental. A person wandering in a place where the separation between worlds is thin, and the conditions for crossing are right. Most often they simply wander through, never even noticing something is wrong until it's far too late to turn back, never realizing that somehow they've gone astray until the familiar has twisted into the strange and unknown before their very eyes. An ordinary forest behind their house quietly gives way to a forest with much bigger trees, stranger creatures, and is much much more ancient than anything that should be able to exist still on earth. Or an alleyway you slip down to hide from the cops you know will invent a reason to arrest you because you're black; if the alleyway is covered with vines creeping over an old wood fence, if it becomes dark and hard to see, with the grime under your feet silently changing from pavement and cement into earth rich and green, you might not notice it until you step out from the old ruin of a faerie dwelling and into the light beyond. Stepping from one world to another can be swift, seamless, and easier than crossing a stream of water. Yet sometimes it isn't so easy. It could take many coincidences and pure chance to open a way. Patterns, rituals, stories. These are elements of magic, the persuaders of perception, the interpreters of reality. Much is tied to such things, whether we recognize it or not. Our morning ablutions are a ritual, so is the song and dance a person might play if they work in retail, and so too is the choices of entertainment we make. Ritual and pattern, choices to create reasons, reasons to make choices, and the inability to see when we are caught in a ritual we cannot easily escape. Some stories we tell ourselves, or write in books to tell others long after ourselves, show glimpses of these rituals and patterns, the way we think, the way we understand, the way we create. And sometimes those patterns and rituals will lead us to other worlds, often by mistake, tracing the path unintentionally by fulfilling necessary requirements. Touching certain stones in a certain pattern, filling a certain fountain with water from a certain spring, saying the correct words in the correct order. Coincidences, but not impossible ones, just very unlikely. Yet the unlikely happens more than you could ever imagine.

The Third method for humans to enter Faerie is the one you so whimsically name as being "spirited away". Many humans who come this way would agree with you, it certainly feels as if one is spirited away. But I would call it another name, one with fewer positive connotations. Abduction, kidnapping. Whether they are tricked, or lured past a border. Whether they come of their own will because of false promises and the secret intentions of others. If they are threatened or their loved ones are threatened. If they are simply taken, directly and against their will. These are ways in which they could enter into Faerie. It is, tragically, the most common way to reach Faerie. But your question of what happens to them? Many things happen. Each dependent on the reasons and nature of the Fae being who brings a human into a world apart. Sometimes the intentions are for good reasons, though those can often cause just as much pain as cruelty if you're not careful. But far more likely the intentions are not kind, and do not have anything but maleficent intent. Humans are taken and forced to act as distractions, toys, playthings. They are dressed in fancy clothing, paraded about in front of everyone, and then left in an empty room and forgotten about. They are not seen as people, they are seen as pets, and some are not even afforded that luxury, but are seen as things. Objects to possess, but not anything remotely resembling a person. Other humans are given a less glittering cage, put to work and told directly that they have been enslaved. Even here the language used is tricky. "Seven years and a day" and "You agreed to our deal, now you must hold up your end of the bargain" or " Can't break your word, that would have consequences". Child, the Fae are beings who have had time out of human comprehension to reflect and study the nature of words and meaning. To manipulate, to hide, to pretend... it is second nature to them. They can do it without even a single lie, deceiving you through your own creation of meaning. Every word your captors would say to you in order to convince you that you have an obligation to be there, that you must work for them, that you got yourself into this, that you had free will and choice in the matter... every word is meant to draw you deeper into their deception while still being the truth. They will tell you this, if you ask, and laugh at your expression. What fun their little game. And even when you know the rules, you can't stop playing. You can't leave. You can't break the bargain. Because the truth is what it always was, you never had a real choice to begin with. Even the choices you were offered were those given by the faerie luring you to your doom, options between one bad choice and another. Some rare and lucky few have fought for a different fate. Through the kindness of others and their own inner strength, as well as luck so incredibly unlikely that it's almost its own kind of magic, they managed to create a different way of living with the Folk. These folk live many different lives. Some travel and live with courts, others have found the parents they always needed, some have gained the respect of the fae they knew, others have shown incredible wit and cleverness in somehow tricking the tricksters, and some very very few have somehow managed to find real love and friendship among the Folk.

But these lives, though glamorous, are in no way easy. They are filled with danger at every turn, with disaster and heartbreak and the strain of living in a world and with a people that are not made for humans, that barely even understand what it means to be a human or a mortal in general. Our human world is filled with so much darkness and strife, so much so that many would find the idea of living in another world enticing. I too have felt that, I too dream of seeing something wondrous and strange, something otherworldly and magical. But a life lived in Faerie, especially if you had no real choice in that life, is hardly a life at all. It would be a battle every moment of every day, a fight to maintain anything of yourself or your will, anything of you at all. A fight to survive, a fight to even exist as anything with agency, as a person. We fight many such battles here today, in our very human world, and yet there are moments of rest, moments where we can draw a breath and pause to gather our strength and remember ourselves. No such rests exist for us there, where everything and everyone is alien, where even their culture and way of thinking is so unlike ours. Even though there is much they imitate, and much we share, it would be a struggle that few could truly imagine to break past the differences that would assault you at every turn. Many die. Are killed or simply give up the will to live. Another casualty of Faerie, the land of the deathless, where death waits patiently for those who do not belong. Some go utterly mad, losing their sanity to an untold number of things. Eldritch beings or things their minds cannot cope with, the trauma of cruelty or horrific conditions, or even the inability to tell after a time what is real and what is illusory or imaginary. Some escape, with or without their minds, and a lucky few manage to stay away till the end of their lives, while others are drawn or lured back in. And a few grow. When they faced the horrors of the unknown they simply... would not break. No matter how much pressure or stress, no matter the moral quandaries or the abuse or the fear, they simply would not, could not, be broken. This inner strength shows itself in the most unexpected of people, people you often think would be the easiest to break. If at last it shows itself in a person, they grow, they grow and they will not stop growing. Taking in everything, and telling it that it must serve for their self betterment whether it wants to or not. True, they might die or be killed, they might never escape captivity, but they have what many others never do. They have free will, they have their self that they themselves created. It is... a bright star in a dark and endless sky.

#fae #faerie #otherfolk #otherworld #life in faerie #cruelty #fae abduction

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