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bwabys-scenarios · 17 days

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Along the way

Pt. 1

Fantasy!HXH AU

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

A/N: wanted to have some fun with a fantasy version of Hunter x Hunter involving the main four and the reader :3 this is purely for fun and idk how often I’ll update it, depends on my mood. Also this will have some inspiration from Yona of the Dawn and Frieren!

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(Name) couldn’t remember the last time she had ever been hungry. Every day she woke up to breakfast in bed, and was quickly guided to the dining hall for lunch. Dinner was never late, considering she ate with her father, the King.

But right now, her stomach growled painfully as she was led by the hand by the only person that she had left from her life as a princess.

“Kurapika… I’m hungry.”

The blonde’s elf ears twitched, telling her that he definitely heard her. His grip tightening on her hand was enough for her to understand that he was upset he couldn’t do anything about it. “I know, princess.”

“I’m tired, too.”

He sighed softly, but didn’t slow down. “I’m well aware. We have to keep going, you’ll get a break when the sun rises. By then we should be far enough from the castle to avoid detection.”

She huffed, her eyelids dropping slightly as they continued to walk. “I just hope Papa will meet us soon… he’s always taking his time.”

Kurapika stayed silent at that, simply continuing to guide her through the dense forest. Instead of replying to her, his thumb rubbed the back of her hand gently, as if he was attempting some form of comfort.

He hadn’t been lying, the elf did not let her rest until the sun came out. Even then, she was upset to know they would be sleeping in a dark and smelly cave. “The scent will help mask ours, princess,” Kurapika said after she pouted at him.

“I’d rather be eaten by demons than smell like moldy cheese,” she mumbled as he prepared a spot for her to sleep on.

“Don’t pout, it’s unbecoming of a princess. You should rest while you can, we’ll be leaving at nightfall.”

He sat in the corner, a hand on his sword as she settled down on the makeshift bed of his tabard and moss. Kurapika covered her in his cloak once she was settled, his brown eyes soft with concern.

“You’re not going to sleep?”

(Name) looked up at him, her eyes half lidded as she fought her sleep. He managed a small smile, reaching out to gently pet her head. “Elves don’t need as much sleep as humans do. I’ll be fine, just go to bed.”

She didn’t argue, simply laying her head back down and drifting off to sleep. As she did, Kurapika’s smile faded, and a look of absolute fury crossed his face at the sight of his exhausted princess.

Just a few hours ago, she had been getting ready for bed, and he had been guarding her room. Everything was peaceful, as it always was.

“Kurapika, can you come sit with me until I fall asleep?” she asked, peeking her head out of the door. He smiled, sheathing his sword before slipping through the crack in her door.

“Yes, of course princess. You always have trouble sleeping on your own…” Kurapika said, sitting in a chair next to her bed after tucking her in. “Do you require anything else?”

She looked away shyly, offering her hand. “Can you hold my hand too?”

Without a word he took her hand in his, gently caressing the back of it with his thumb. (Name) smiled, her eyelids drooping. “Thank you…”

With that, she was fast asleep. Times like this almost made Kurapika forget about his troubled past. Getting to see his princess live a good and happy life was all he could want.

He had achieved his goals in avenging his clan, she was all he had now. And that’s why what happened just an hour later angered him so.

His kind, sensitive princess was woken with a start as the sounds of explosives shook the castle. Kurapika was quick to comfort her, holding the princess in his arms and lifting her up.

“W-what was that?”

Another explosion rocked the building, causing him to tighten his grip on her. “I’m not sure, but we need to go.”

He held onto her with one arm as he left her room, drawing his sword with the other. The feeling of her trembling hands gripping his shirt grounded the elf, and his ears twitched. There was the faint sound of someone screaming, and thundering footsteps.

“Shit…”

Kurapika never swore in front of (Name), trying his best to stay levelheaded in her presence, but the aura he was picking up was making him boil with rage.

“Demons.” he spat out, darting down a corridor and hiding in an empty room. He covered her mouth as the sound of skittering and footsteps echoed down the halls. The smell of sulfur and fire wafted through the crack in the door, making his sensitive princess gag.

“I’m not sure what’s going on, but demons are supposed to be forbidden from entering the palace walls. And for this many to be here…”

Before she could even register it, Kurapika was carrying her out of the room and sprinting down the halls. She was still only half awake, glancing around to try and get her bearings.

That was a mistake.

As they passed by the throne room, (Name) watched as her father was cornered by a pack of demons. They were tall and intimidating, wearing black cloaks to hide their appearances.

“Where is the girl? The one you have passed your knowledge to?”

Kurapika flattened against the wall, shielding her with his body. He felt like if he moved in that moment, the monsters inside would sense their presence.

“I didn’t… pass it on yet. She hasn’t yet reached her 20th birthday..!”

‘He’s talking about the princess!’ Kurapika thought, his grip tightening on her. He held her close to him, urging her with his scarlet eyes to keep quiet as a mouse.

“Could be all lies. Tell the lower rank soldiers to search for her. She’ll most likely be alone or guarded by a human knight, which is no match for even the lowest ranked demon.”

The sound of flesh being sliced made Kurapika wince, and he covered (Name)’s ears just in time. Kurapika used the noises of her father’s final cries to hurry her out of the castle and into the surrounding woods.

“W-what about papa?” she asked, frantically looking around. “H-he was in the thrown room, w-“

Kurapika covered her mouth and raised his hand, castings a quick spell to hide their presence before a pack of demons came bounding down the forest path. He did his best to comfort her, shielding her eyes so she couldn’t see that the awful things sniffing around for them.

The lower ranked soldiers were barely sentient, more like mindless hellhounds than actually people. Their gray, decaying flesh rotted off of their bodies as they sniffed the ground. Thankfully, the spell Kurapika cast hid both their appearance and scent.

One of the beasts stopped near the two, its ears pricked up as it listened closely. Kurapika held his breath, ready to draw his weapon at any moment…

But a bush a few yards away shook, causing the beats to start growling and barking, immediately running off to see what was there. Kurapika used this chance to get pick up (Name) and run.

That’s how they ended up in the cave. The smell of the musty air would mask their scents long enough for them both to get some rest.

Kurapika watched the sleeping princess, sighing softly as he caressed her cheek. She was such a sweet, innocent girl. She didn’t deserve to be hunted down like a dog.

Despite Kurapika’s hatred for humankind for their slaughter of his kin, he held (Name) in high regards. The only reason he drew breath was because of her kindness, so he had dedicated the rest of his long life to protecting that kindness.

So the fact someone had taken her throne when she was so close to becoming queen angered him beyond belief. Kurapika had seen the way she cared for her subjects, and the demons taking over would only mean the suffering of all the humans living in her kingdom. It would break her heart, being helpless to do anything.

But Kurapika would let endless men and women die if it meant keeping her safe. He already had plans to take her somewhere remote where she could live out her life in peace and safety.

Though, it seemed she had a different idea.

When (Name) woke up, she ate the pheasant he hunted while looking at the cave wall in though. “Those demons… they took over the palace.”

Kurapika nodded, washing her nightgown as she sat, covered by his cloak. “Yes, princess. It is much too dangerous for us to try and go b-“

“Just the two of us? Yes, it would be too dangerous. But…”

She picked up a stick and started drawing in the dirt. “You said the nearest town is only a few miles away by foot, right? Well, maybe we can find a guild and hire a party to slay the demons!”

“With what money, princess? And the demons will be searching for you in every town near the castle. It will be dangerous to-“

“That’s why I’m gonna wear a disguise!”

She stood, walking over to some moss. “I’ll make a beard and-“

“My princess…” Kurapika interrupted. “I could just use a spell to change your appearance.”

“Oh.”

She blushed, sitting back down. “We’ll do that then.”

“…”

Kurapika didn’t exactly love the idea, so he spoke up again. “But we still don’t have the money for such a thing. Hiring a party is already costs a hefty sum, and the type of people we’ll need to drive out demons, especially the kind that have invaded the palace would be hard to find, let alone pay.”

He sighed, rubbing his temple. Kurapika loved her dearly, but his princess was extremely sheltered. She didn’t understand the concept of how much things cost. “Listen my princess, I can take you somewhere safe, where you can live a comfortable life. It might not be the luxurious life you’re used to, but you’ll still be happy.”

“B-but…”

Kurapika looked back to her, freezing when he saw tears trailing down her cheeks. “I don’t… want my people to suffer when I could be doing something… why do I get to be safe and happy while they’re under the reign of demons?”

She did have a point, and her kindness is what made Kurapika adore her in the first place. His elf ears twitched and he rubbed the back of his neck.

To be honest, Kurapika cared not for other humans… but he would to next to anything to make her happy.

“… alright.”

(Name) blinked, looking to him. “Really?”

“Yes… but promise me, if we can’t find a party that will take on our request within a month, you will give up on this.”

She squealed in delight, jumping into his arms. “I promise! Ahh, thank you Kurapika!”

The slightest shade of pink took over his cheeks, and he cleared his throat. “Princess, you still only have my cloak to keep you covered.”

She blinked, looking down at herself before jumping back and checking herself over to make sure she was still completely covered. “A-ah, sorry I forgot…”

‘She’s going to be the death of me…’ Kurapika thought, ringing out her night gown before setting it out to dry.

As he planned out what they would do, he could have sworn he heard something skittering from tree to tree outside… but when he looked, there was nothing…

But a pair of cat-like eyes were staring in at them, wondering when he should strike.

————————

Kurapika held her close to him as they walked towards town. Just an hour before, an entire pack of demon hounds passed by their hiding place.

Thankfully, he had placed a magical sensor about 100 feet away that alerted him just in time for him to pull (Name) into the depths of the cave. He covered her mouth, the potent smell of the cave hiding their scent.

The beasts passed by without any trouble, but Kurapika knew it was time to go. More competent soldiers would be there soon to check every nook and cranny of the forest for any signs of life, and Kurapika couldn’t hide her forever.

So they walked down the path, her hand in his. She was still tired, now wearing her freshly cleaned nightgown and his cloak. Her feet were still bare, so he would carry her until his arms ached. Kurapika couldn’t stand the way she winced when she stepped on a pointy rock or on poky leaves.

He wished he could do more, he more useful to her…

‘I’ll buy her a more suitable outfit once we get into town.’ he thought, patting his coin pouch with his free hand. ‘I doubt we’ll be able to find someone willing to take on the demons anyways, no need to save my coin when my princess is in need of new clothing.’

It wouldn’t be the soft silks and fancy patterns she was used to, but it would keep her warm and covered.

“My princess, we’re nearing town.”

She stopped, glancing back at him. Kurapika tied his cloak tighter around her, making sure her stained nightgown couldn’t be seen. “Try not to let your bare feet be noticed. Take small steps, and don’t take off your hood.”

“Anything else?” she asked sarcastically. Kurapika thought for a second, then looped her arm with his.

“Yes. Don’t leave my side, even for a second. I can’t guarantee that the town is safe. There could already be demons hiding amongst the citizens, wearing human disguises.”

She huffed, but listened. For the past 5 years, Kurapika had been her loyal knight, keeping her safe from all harm. (Name) trusted him more than she trusted herself, so of course she would do whatever he said.

“Come, we can only stay in town for so long. We don’t want to draw any attention to ourselves.”

He guided her into the small town, which looked more like a village the more Kurapika thought of it.

There were only a handful of shops that he could see, he wasn’t sure he’d even be able to find her clothes, much less a party that would be willing to take on demons.

He grimaced when a toddler ran by, wearing only wearing a cloth diaper as they were chased by what seemed to be an older sibling. Kurapika disliked humans, finding them to be filthy, nasty things.

“Aww… so cute!”

Kurapika glanced to see (Name) helping the little one up after they tripped, gently dabbing away at a little scrape in their knee with her handkerchief. “Shh, it’s okay. It’s only a little scrape.”

The older sibling blushed as (Name) smiled and helped their younger sibling stand. “Be careful, you’re a big brother, aren’t you? You need to keep better watch of your baby sister. And you…”

She gave the child a headpat. “You need to listen to your big brother. Don’t run away from him, what if a big scary monster snatched you up?”

The two thanked her before walking away hand in hand, waving. She waved back, and Kurapika was quick to grab her hand and pull her towards a quiet place. “Princess, didn’t I say we shouldn’t draw attention to ourselves!? You-“

She pouted at him. “Kurapika, it was just a child. I-“

“Well now those children have seen your face. It not only puts you in danger, but them as well.”

(Name) paused, her eyebrows furrowing as she looked down at the ground. Kurapika sighed, cursing himself for upsetting her.

“Just… try not to talk to anyone or show your face, alright? Come on, we have to hurry.”

She was now quiet as they walked through the small village, her hand in his. Though Kurapika knew her silence was better in the long run, he also felt an ache in his heart when she was quiet.

——————

(Name) sat in a small wooden chair inside a dusty clothing shop. Kurapika was speaking to the owner quietly, occasionally glancing back at her.

While they talked, (Name) took the time to look out the window and really take in the village while it was busy.

The unevenly paved road caused the rickety old carriages drawn by horses to wobble a bit, but the riders seemed used to it. Children ran down the road, spooking the horses a bit and getting yelled at by said riders until they scurried away.

Across from them was a bakery, where she could see a woman rolling out a ball of dough. On the counter were various baked good that reminded (Name) of just how hungry she was.

But… something seemed out of place. Every once in a while as she watched the villagers go about their daily lives, she swore she could see a blur of someone in the trees that surrounded the village. Occasionally, a pair of blue, glowing eyes peered through the leafy canopy, staring right at her.

“U-Um… Kurapika?”

He held up a hand and continued to speak with the shopkeep. ‘Is he… haggling him?’ (Name) sighed softly, turning back to the window.

The thing she saw made her blood ran cold.

On the edge of the tree line was a small figure, looking right at her. She couldn’t make out much besides a head of white hair and piercing blue eyes. (Name) got ready to tell Kurapika, but by the time she blinked… it was gone.

Kurapika approached her, a few items of clothing slung over his shoulder. “What did you need, my p- I mean, miss?”

She didn’t answer for a moment, continuing to stare out of the window. When she did finally speak, he could tell something was wrong. “… nothing. Just thought I saw something.”

The elf was intelligent, he knew that anything out of the ordinary could mean their enemies may be near. So he nodded and escorted her to the dressing room. “Get dressed, we’re leaving now.”

She did as told, glancing through the crack in the door as he kept watch. When she was around, Kurapika kept up a calm and confident facade… but when he thought she couldn’t see him, his face fell slightly with worry.

The princess didn’t truly know what demons were or the history they had with humans or elves, not many humans did. The stories had simply been lost to time, something only an elf who had lived many human lifetimes could remember.

Kurapika was terrified, knowing that these demons would stop at nothing to kill the last person that may know how to truly defeat them.

Demons were incredibly hard to kill, it was easier to just wound them and banish them with a teleportation spell back to hell… but there was one method that could permanently end a demon’s life.

But no, the princess wasn’t aware of how to do that. Why would she be, she was sheltered and had never even held a wand, much less casted a spell.

Instead, the king had passed on this information to Kurapika, not wanting his beloved daughter to be in danger. Kurapika didn’t want her at risk either, so he took on the heavy burden.

The spell called for various magical items to be gathered from across the continent and brought together. It would take ages, and with just the two of them, it wasn’t just dangerous, it was impossible.

Even more troubling, to preform the spell that would banish demons, the caster would have to be a person whose heart was pure and without hate. Kurapika held onto so much hatred and anger, he would never be able to perform such a thing.

‘But…’

Kurapika glanced at the princess as she stepped out of the dressing room, her smile as warm as the afternoon sun. She reached for his hand, giving it a soft squeeze. “It’ll be okay, we’ll get through this together.”

‘Maybe she, the only human I have ever cared for could do it.’

———————

From the branches of a tree, a figure watched as the two walked through the forest. One was some kind of an elf, which the spying figure had been told went extinct years ago.

The other was a young woman, her face hidden by an olive green cloak. She held onto the elf’s hand, and the figure could tell that if she wasn’t with him, the elf would be moving at a much faster pace.

‘Huh, just a single guard? You’d think that at least twenty knights would have escorted her out of the palace.’

The figure jumped silently to another tree once the two started to gain a bit too much distance from him for his liking.

‘She’s rather slow and weak, I can take her out easily. But the elf has been able to successfully evade our soldiers for nearly two days and nights now… oh well, I only need to kill the girl. No need to fight someone I’m not sure I could beat.’

The figure’s tail curled around the branch of the tree, keeping him upright as he leaned forward to get a better look at them.

But unfortunately, he misjudged the strength of the branch and was sent tumbling out of the tree, landing in a bush nearby.

‘SHIT!’

Kurapika pulled his sword out, stepping in front of (Name). “Who goes there? Come out and state your reasons for following us.”

‘Ah, so he knew I was following them.’

The white haired boy quickly hid his tail, retracted his claws, and ruffled his hair to hide his small horns. Once done, he carefully stepped out of the bushes, making sure to make himself look small and scared.

“Oh, it’s just a little boy.”

The boy waved timidly, trying to act like a lost child. “H-hello…”

(Name) peeked out from behind Kurapika, smiling. “Hello there, I-“

Kurapika stepped forward, his sword pointed at the boy’s throat. “I said state your reason for following us.”

(Name)’s eyes widen, and she reached out to gently move Kurapika’s arm so he was pointing his sword at the ground instead. “Kurapika, he’s just a little boy, there’s no need-“

“Just a little boy? My princess, if he was a normal little boy I would be able to hear his footsteps when he walked. This is no ordinary child, he’s trained in the ways of darkness and evil.”

The boy scoffed, crossing his arms. “Huh, you’re good. Wasn’t expecting that. I’ve never had someone realize they couldn’t hear my footsteps before.”

In the blink of an eye, the boy’s claws were sharpened into points, his sharp teeth glistening in the low light. Kurapika’s eyes widened, and he started getting ready to create a barrier around the princess if need be.

“You seem like a smart man. Hand over the girl, and I’ll let you free. You’re an elf, I hear that race and humans have a pretty bad history. Let me guess, you were forced into serving her or execution. Well it’s your lucky day, I’m here to take her out. Then, you’ll be a free elf and-“

The boy’s eyes narrowed as Kurapika’s sword began to glow a deep scarlet, his eyes shining the same color. “You understand nothing, demon. My people hated your kind much more than we hated humans, and this girl means everything to me. I would die before I handed her over to the likes of you.”

‘That sword… I heard stories of elves that could banish demons but…’

“K-Kurapika, wait!”

But it was no use, the two had begun their battle. (Name) was pushed back unceremoniously, falling onto her but a few feet away from the two.

The boy brandished his claws, leaping from the ground and slashing at Kurapika’s throat. He was able to block the attack with his sword just before the boy’s nails sunk into his skin.

Kurapika took advantage of the boy being so close, and used a teleporting spell, sending them 30 yards away. “Hide yourself, (Name)! This boy is an assassin, he’ll take any opportunity to come your way and kill you!”

She gulped, crawling through the gaps of large tree roots and hiding herself under a tree. (Name) couldn’t see what was going on now, but she could hear the sounds of Kurapika swinging his blade and grunting.

It took her back to the days when she would watch him train between lessons. He always took time to send her a soft smile, even walking her to her next destination despite being exhausted and sweaty.

One day, another knight was sparring with him, and when Kurapika got hurt, she started to cry. She rushed over, clingy to him and sobbing as she rubbed her face against his chest.

“Y-you got hurt! You’re bleeding, someone call the-“

Kurapika gently ran his hand over her hair, smiling. “Shh, princess, I’m fine. This is nothing.”

“But…”

His eyes softened as he gently caressed her cheek with his thumb. “Any injury I get while protecting you is just proof of my unconditional devotion. You are my everything, princess. I will shield you with my very body if it means keeping you safe.”

And as she heard the fight get more and more intense, she felt an uneasy feeling settle in her belly.

‘I don’t want Kurapika to die.’

That’s the very thought she had that day, watching as he was bandaged up by a palace doctor. So behind his back, she had begun to learn basic magic, wanting to be somewhat to him in the future.

Although she had never been able to actually cast a spell due to how she was watched like a hawk, she still managed to sneak some of Kurapika’s books into her room to study while he was busy.

When she heard Kurapika gasp in pain, (Name)’s mind raced with what to do. He told her to hide, and Kurapika was usually right, but she would rather die than let him die for her.

So (Name) crawled out of her hiding space, sniffling softly as she began to run towards the two.

The boy had him pinned to the ground, his nails at Kurapika’s throat. The sight was enough to freeze her in her tracks, her heart thumping wildly against her chest.

“L-let him go!”

Despite her legs shaking, and her lip wobbling, she was still able to yell out to the boy. “It’s me you want, don’t hurt him!”

Kurapika turned his head, his nose bleeding. “Princess, what do you think you’re doing, he’s going to-“

The boy let Kurapika go, walking towards her slowly. “Sacrificing yourself to save a measly knight? You’re braver than I thought, princess. I’ll spare the elf, as long as you go down without a fight.”

“Yes… but please, before you kill me, let me know your name.”

Seeing no point in hiding his identity now that his prey was right in front of him, the boy relented. “If that’s your final wish… my name is Killua. Killua of the Zoldyck Royal Family, one of the seven princes of hell.”

“I see… Killua, then. I need you to get down.”

This made the boy pause. Although her body shook and her lip wobbled, her eyes were far from scared. They were determined, steady as they focused on him.

Before he could retreat, a ring formed around the boys wrists, causing him to be pinned to the ground. He yelped, struggling frantically against the glowing rings, but they stayed firm on his wrists.

“W-what the hell did you just do to me!?”

(Name) smiled, her knees giving way as she fell to the ground. She held held up her own wrist, a small ring of light was there, the same as the boy’s.

“I cast a spell to have complete control over your actions. It only works on… demons… and… if I have your name…”

Killua growled, baring his teeth and struggling against his bounds with no luck. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t even lift his head. “You witch! Let me go right now, before I-“

(Name) laughs, reaching out to ruffle his hair. “Before you what? Squirm some more? Kick up some dirt? Face it kid, you’re not doing anything until I give you an order.”

He continued to growl and snap his teeth at her, trying to attack, to do anything. As Killua struggled, Kurapika made his way back over, holding his injured arm.

‘That spell… it’s too high level, even for me. How was she able to-‘

He barely caught (Name) in time as she fell forward. Her mana was next to non existent at the moment, leaving her exhausted and barely conscious.

“My princess…”

He cursed himself for not being able to stop her from using such a spell. If he had been a bit stronger, the boy would be dead, and he would be carrying her to bed at this very moment.

But now, he had to deal with the demon growling and snarling at their feet.

“I hope you’ve prepared yourself for death, demon. I can’t have you going back to your horde and informing them of our location.”

Killua let out a laugh, looking up at him. “As if either of you could kill me. Sure, try it out. Injure me, teleport me away to the far ends of the earth, I’ll just keep coming back, and with reinforcements next time.”

“He has a point…”

Kurapika helped (Name) sit up, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood as her head leaned on his chest. She was so weak, she was shaking.

“Princess, you should rest.”

She shook her head, raising her hand. “Stand, Killua.”

The boy immediately sprung up from the ground, standing stiffly in front of them. “(Name)… is the spell still intact?”

She nodded, leaving Kurapika in awe. A spell like that cast by an amateur like her should have fell apart within seconds!

“So we can’t just let him go and I don’t want to kill him…”

“We couldn’t kill him even if we tried, princess.”

She pouted slightly, staring at the boy whose cheek were red with humiliation. He was at the beck and call of a human, he’d be teased by his brothers for weeks!

“… I think I have a solution! Killua, stay still.”

The boy scolded himself for being so cocky. ‘I knew names held power, and yet I freely gave her mine…’

He clenched his fists, growling lowly. ‘As soon as I’m free, I’ll kill that princess, if it’s the last thing I do!’

Killua stiffened up even more if possible as Kurapika and (Name) stepped a few feet away to talk.

The elf grimaced as (Name) seemed to be proposing an idea, disagreeing with her immediately. She then put her hands on her hips… which caused Kurapika to relent.

“Alright, I’ll let you handle this then, princess.”

(Name) smiled, stepping forward. “Alright! Killua, once this order is given, you’ll be able to move freely.”

Killua perked up a little. ‘This is my chance!’

“I’ll be giving you the orders,” she said, holding up two fingers. Kurapika glanced her way, nervous. He didn’t like allowing his princess to handle things in the slightest… but it was their only option. “One, you will not share any information on me, Kurapika, or anyone connected to us.”

He frowned deeply, that would get in the way of his plans… but…

‘Once she’s dead, the spell should dissipate. I’ll just-‘

“The second order is you are no longer allowed to harm, kill, or maim any innocent beings, or any of my loved ones.”

Killua’s jaw dropped. While he didn’t necessarily make a habit out of killing when he didn’t have to, it was still his job. “You can’t be serious, I-“

That’s when he realized… (Name) was but an innocent human… he wouldn’t be kill her. And Kurapika was definitely someone she cared for…

“Those are your orders. You can now move freely.”

Killua’s body relaxed, and he moved forward, launching himself at (Name). Although Kurapika was quick to pull her behind himself, it wasn’t necessary.

Killua froze midair, ancient symbols appearing all over his body. When he dropped to the ground, he seized.

(Name) was quick to kneel down next to him, despite Kurapika’s complaints. “Hey, you’re going to be okay. The effects shouldn’t last that long…”

She lifted his head into her lap, wiping away the drool from the boy’s mouth with her sleeve. “This is what happens when you disobey an order… I’m sorry, from what I read I heard it’s incredibly painful.”

Incredibly painful? It was the worst thing Killua had ever experienced, and he had undergone the harsh training and torture of the Zoldyck family.

But the demon was confused… why was this princess gently wiping his face with a handkerchief, and why was she getting her knight to prop him up against a tree. He couldn’t comprehend why she left a canteen full of water and an apple for him before she left… it didn’t make sense.

“You’re free to do whatever you want, as long as you follow those two orders,” she said, yawning as Kurapika helped her walk. “Goodbye, Killua.”

As they walked away, Killua felt… strange. He had tried to kill her more than once. It would be easy enough to make him take his own life… yet she was letting him go.

Killua sat there under the moonlight, thinking of what his next step should be. He couldn’t return home, that would be a humiliation he would never live down. Him, the heir of the throne, defeated by a mere mortal? That was unheard of.

So Killua hatched a new plan, one that would take advantage of the princess’ kindness…

———————

Dark fog fell over the palace, toxic vapor that would kill any human unfortunate enough to still be hiding within its walls.

“Has Killua returned with the princess yet?”

Illumi looked up from his work, tilting his head. His tail swayed silently as he set those dark, cold eyes on his mother. “No, mother. And from what I’m able to sense… he’s not coming back home for a while yet.”

She frowned, Kalluto standing quietly at her side. “Kalluto, go check with your older brother and see if he’s finished that resurrection spell yet.”

“Yes, mother.”

Once Kalluto left, the woman’s eyes narrowed. “We must hurry and get these matters dealt with before the other demon lords are able to make it to the surface. Those other princes… they’ll spell nothing but trouble for our-“

“Yes, mother. I understand.”

Illumi looked into his crystal ball, one that one worked on Killua. With it, he could see through the boy’s eyes… and even give him orders.

“Killua is currently following the princess, mother.”

She smiled, clapping her hands together. “Oh, that is wonderful news! Give him the command, and then I’ll have my little prince back!”

Illumi nodded, the focused on the crystal ball, peering into it.

‘Killua.’

Usually, simply saying his name was enough to have the boy tensing up… but he did nothing. Could he not… hear him?

Illumi shook his head. ‘No matter, I’ll just take control of him.’

When Illumi attempted to reach into the crystal ball, his hand was repelled by white magic, burning his fingers and palm.

“Illumi!”

His mother rushed over to see what had happened. Illumi stared blankly at his hand, sighing.

“It seems someone is interfering with my connection… until we figure out what this is…”

His mother paled, raising a hand to her mouth.

“Killua… is lost to us.”

Illumi looked through the crystal ball, his frown deepening. ‘At least I can still see through his eyes. That will be of some benefit to us… as long as Killua keeps following them, we should be able to find them eventually.’

Kalluto walked back into the room, Boeing politely. “Mother, big brother has found a resurrection spell that will work on more than ten people at once without killing the caster. Now all we have to do is find their remains.”

His mother grinned, fanning herself. “Inform your father of this discovery, and make sure he knows…”

She looked outside, smiling as the fog slowly spread down the mountain. “We have some spiders to find.”

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boosoonhao · 2 months

Text

even death (would be worth it)

wonwoo x reader 10k words supernatural au mentions of human sacrifice and cult behaviour

The forest feels alive. A weird thing, if you think about it, considering its name. It’s almost hilarious that the moment the Dead Forest feels the most alive; trees shivering and leaves dancing, wind humming a tune that at once feels both strange and familiar, is the day a woman is brought inside it to die. Wonwoo would have laughed at the irony of it, had he not been too busy frowning at the prospect of another human joining the ranks of elves, faeries and dryads occupying the greenness of his home.

And not just any human, Wonwoo reminds himself with a sort of twinge of something unfamiliar and uncomfortable curling inside his stomach. This particular human, this ‘sacrificial lamb’ as the old woman had aptly named it, is his responsibility.

For as long as there has been a forest, there has been Guardians; chosen beings of various species tasked with keeping the peace in the enclosed area of magical energies. The King was – at least as far as legends go –the first Guardian, as old as the forest itself and impossibly wise. No one knows how long he’s been around, or even what he truly is, but his authority is unquestionable. Wonwoo peers to his side, glances over at the ancient leader as the three of them; the King, the old human woman and Wonwoo himself, walk towards the clearing.

As far as fabled creatures go, the King is an outlier even within the collection of his own people. Wonwoo knows faeries, he knows imps, he knows mermaids and dryads. There are mutations, combinations, halflings of most every species that reside within the Dead Forest that seem almost impossible on their own, but there is no one quite like the Forest King; who is not really a creature at all, as much as he is an entity. His head is adorned by two bright, soothingly glowing horns, both delicate and strong in appearance as they arch towards the sky like some sort of crown. In fact, his whole being seems to be bathed in this barely noticeable but somehow unavoidable light; his face softened by the smooth glow against ageless skin and his skin radiating with heat that makes Wonwoo feel as calm as he feels awestruck.

The King’s steps echo through the darkness of the woods; four discordant clops of hooves against dirt. In the distance, Wonwoo hears voices. They must be early, then.

“You were chosen as Guardian for a reason, Wonwoo,” the hollow, echo-y voice of the King comes from his side. When caught unaware, Wonwoo almost finds himself believing that the king is speaking directly in his head; had anyone told the dryad that his king was omnipotent, he would not be surprised. But as Wonwoo blinks and readjusts his attention towards his revered leader, he sees the King gazing right back at him, a calm expression curling the edges of his mouth upwards. “There is no reason to worry.”

Wonwoo almost tells his king it’s not his role of Guardian he doubts; Wonwoo wears the title with as much pride as his dormant emotional spectrum allows him to and is willing to go great lengths to protect his reputation as the first dryad Guardian the Dead Forest has seen. It’s the task, the station dubbed ‘human protector’ that Wonwoo has his reservations about.

At his side, the old woman hums, almost like some ominous sort of reminder of exactly what it is Wonwoo fears. He remembers – quite vividly – how the woman had looked when she first arrived; how long the scouting team had looked before finally finding her. The first woman Wonwoo had encountered in his lifetime at least had the common sense to sit tight, to wait for her death with trembling limbs and quiet sobs. The woman next to Wonwoo on the other hand, though she might be old and slow now, had been far less submissive.

Wonwoo doesn’t know what this new one will be like; if she’ll be sitting by the clearing with a blindfold wet with tears or if they’ll have to scour the forest to find her curled up and bleeding behind some stub somewhere deep inside the woods.

And even more unsettling, Wonwoo doesn’t know which option he’d prefer.

“I’m not nervous,” Wonwoo simply responds instead, once he realizes that he’s been quiet for too long. Decades ago he might have refrained from conversing so casually with the King; both terrified and impressed with the power he wields and the dignity with which he does it, but Wonwoo has long since learned that his ruler is far more fond of comrades than he is of followers. Wonwoo never was good at pleasantries anyways. The King laughs; a full sound reminiscent of the sound of bells dancing in the wind, surprisingly soft and easy for such a monumentally powerful creature.

“It’s just,” Wonwoo continues, head cocked to the side and eyes wandering along the soft flutter of tall grass at his feet. Daylight is fading quickly now; beams of sunshine running between thick tree trunks and hiding behind heavy clusters of branches and leaves. “The forest is very loud tonight.”

He swears he can hear footsteps, low murmurs and angry thoughts. They’re not even near the clearing yet.

“The sacrifice is a crude tradition,” the old woman muses, voice steady and calm and strangely detached from the cruelty of her own people. Perhaps not so strange, considering years and years ago she was the one trapped in the forest, running blindly around between the trees. “No doubt the forest knows as well.” The wind roars, as if in agreement.

Wonwoo, despite not having been present at the previous collections, have to agree. If he closes his eyes he can imagine it vividly; a row of humans clutching at a tight piece of rope, a crowd of people huddled just outside the forest. To make sure they don’t get lost, the old woman had explained once, though Wonwoo thinks that if they’re that afraid they might be better of staying out entirely. The forest doesn’t want them anyways.

His thoughts are still muddled, still full of cruel imagery when the three of them reach the clearing. There’s almost no sunlight left now, the forest covered in a muted darkness that makes the trees seem taller than they are, gives an illusion of hunched over shadows looming over them. Wonwoo isn’t afraid of the shadows. He’s more afraid of the human sitting quietly on the flat of a large, flat roundness of the cut down tree in the middle of the clearing.

The blindfold – a precaution meant to confuse, to make sure the sacrifice doesn’t manage to wander off out of the forest before being claimed by whatever horrible, vengeful creature the humans believe reside in the woods – has fallen down, no longer obscuring your eyes. You twist your head around at the sound of footsteps, gaze hard as you make eye contact with Wonwoo. There’s something dark and unsettling in the stubbornness of your glare, but it might just be a trick of moonlight and darkness mixing up and settling like a bewitching sort of fog over the clearing. Your hands are tied, resting easily on your lap. Wonwoo can’t see your mouth, but somehow he knows you’re frowning, your brows furrowed and your body rigid as you regard the three of them.

“Ah,” the old woman gasps, her own wrinkled fingers clutching at the rounded top of her cane. There’s something almost heartbreaking about the sheer amount of empathy in the sound. Beside Wonwoo, the King is very quiet. “She’s much younger this time.”

Wonwoo knows very little of human lifespans, their ages so fickle and their time entirely too short to properly catalogue the stages they go through from birth til death. But he remembers how the old woman looked when she first arrived; youthful and vibrant and colorful, nothing like the shriveled up figure next to him now. You’re much the same, if a lot more dangerous looking; the glint in your eye entirely antagonistic and the stiffness of your shoulders balancing somewhere along the line between predator and prey. But he can tell, somehow, that the woman is right. When the woman arrived, she looked like she was finished growing, like the only way forward was into the decline that comes with aging. You look like you’re barely past the stage of blooming. Like you’re only just beginning.

Wonwoo supposes that’s a tragedy, somehow.

“Child,” the King murmurs, and you jerk your body away as if stung. Not in fear, Wonwoo realizes, but in disgust. If the King notices, he pays it no mind. He speaks in what Wonwoo assumes the King thinks is a soothing voice, but it’s hard to be soothing when you sound like a specter echoing inside someone’s head. “Don’t be afraid, we’re not here to hurt you.”

The old woman steps over with slow, careful steps. Wonwoo can’t tell if she does so deliberately or because her legs simply cannot carry her as swiftly as they used to. She fumbles with the bindings around your hands, rids you of the fabric covering your mouth. Just like Wonwoo suspected, your mouth is turned down, lips spread thin across your face.

You do not speak, not when the woman urges you to stand, not when she guides you towards Wonwoo and the King. Not a single word when the woman asks your name, or when the King offers his sympathies, not when he promises your safety within the forest.

Wonwoo doesn’t fear shadows. But he will admit that he finds the ones flitting and dancing over your face unsettling, at the very least.

Wonwoo’s home is a wonder. He doesn’t have to be an outsider to know that there’s something almost unreal about the beauty of the heart of the Dead Forest after dark; lanterns glowing with the faint buzz of fireflies and ivies curled around trees. It’s an open enough space; small huts in the treetops for the faeries, bigger ones on the ground for elves and other humanoid creatures. There’s a new one freshly built right next to the spot that Wonwoo has claimed as his own, a humble yet pretty thing of deep greens and splashes of colored flowers.

The King is still talking; Wonwoo hears his own name, hears the word Guardian, and when he twists to key into the conversation he is immediately met by your hard, stubborn gaze. Not as hostile as it was earlier; something that looks vaguely like admiration fleeting in the color of your irises as your gaze glides along the tree tops. Wonwoo almost feels like he’s intruding, as if his presence taints the moment.

The light in your eyes fades as you stare him down, and soon enough there is only that muted sort of distaste left. It’s not that strange for a human to be suspicious towards the forest; to Wonwoo’s knowledge the humans grow up with horrible tales of relentless, bloodthirsty monsters only kept at bay with sacrifice. Even with Wonwoo’s general distrust in humans, he can empathize with the fear you must feel.

Still, there’s a distinct lack of a tremble, a forceful stubbornness to how you keep your eyes locked with his, that makes him thing fear is not a deciding factor in your stiffness and your tight lip.

“If there is anything you need,” the old woman says, ignoring the way you grimace at her touch. “Don’t hesitate to ask.” Wonwoo can see your jaw moving, as if you’re chewing on words you can’t quite manage to say.

Wonwoo resists the urge to sigh. Somehow he thinks his job will be a lot harder than the last Guardian’s.

___

Seven days pass before Wonwoo hears you speak. For the first two, he wasn’t even sure that you could, your main way of communication seemingly being through intimidating glares and a permanently down-turned lip, and it’s only the old woman’s reassurances – not that they’re necessary – that lets the dryad know that you do, in fact, have a tongue.

A part of Wonwoo is relieved; he’s not much for small talk himself and strictly speaking your reluctance to do as much as speak to him makes his duties as Guardian almost laughably easy. For all intents and purposes you’re the perfect subject, spending your days sulking in your hut or talking walks along the safer parts of the forest. Wonwoo needs only stay close, to make sure you don’t get lost and carefully watch your progress – or lack thereof.

The other part of Wonwoo, the part that seems somehow uncharacteristically loud, feels agitated. He feels as if he’s walking on pins and needles, carefully avoiding your poisonous glares and silent judgments. He feels antsy, skin creeping, as if you might snap at him at any given moment.

Which perhaps makes his first actual conversation with you wholly unsurprising.

“Do you have to do that?” You ask, shoulders stiff as you crane your neck to look back at him. Your hair shimmers in the stray rays of sunshine piercing through the thick of treetops in the forest, makes you look almost inhuman and gives your eyes a golden sort of glow. It does little to diminish the angry knit of your brow, only serves to strengthen the intensity of your frown. Wonwoo stops as well, caught somewhere between astonishment that you’d spoken to him so freely and uncertainty at your abrupt question.

“Do what?” He asks, voice almost breathless. This must be the wrong thing to say; he watches a muscle in your jaw twitch, observes as your body language become even more guarded than it usually is.

“Follow me around,” you elaborate, tones of your voice tinged with an almost nasal sort of annoyance. Your words echo into the empty space between the trees. “Stalk after me like some sort of puppy.” Wonwoo doesn’t exactly know what a puppy is, but he imagines it’s not a compliment. “I feel like I can’t even breathe with you all up in my space all the time.”

He frowns. “As Guardian–”

“I don’t give a shit about guardians,” you interrupt, voice louder, shriller. “I don’t give a fuck about your dumb forest or your dumb king or any of this.” Wonwoo thinks he hears a sort of crack in the syllables of your words, as if your conviction is tearing at the seams, confidence splitting and fading with every intake of breath. It’s such an emotional display, muted only slightly by your insistence of keeping a distance. “I don’t want it. I just want to be left alone.”

“You should be grateful,” Wonwoo says, unable to help himself. Empathy was never his strong suit, not a skill much needed for dryads in the first place. He says it not because he means to admonish you but because he truly believes it. Not even the first woman in his lifetime, the one with the loud sobs and the scared eyes, had been this reluctant to assimilate into the laws and society of the woods. And even then, she understood that the only thing the King wanted was to keep her safe.

But Wonwoo realizes, even before he sees the way your lip quivers, that maybe he should have thought twice before speaking this time.

“Is that so?” You reply, tongue sharp and tone betraying the fact that your question is not really a question at all. “I should be grateful that my family were willing, proud even, to sacrifice me to some sort of devilish, forest dwelling boogeyman? That my own people found it so easy to discard me for ‘the greater good’?” Your gaze is hard, jaw tight as you speak. “Should I be jumping at the opportunity to live out my pathetic life among creatures who can’t stand to look at me?” The implication is clear, and Wonwoo only barely manages not to divert his gaze, and even then it’s stubbornness than anything else that makes him keep his eyes on you. “All this, and there’s not even an actual boogeyman.”

For some reason, Wonwoo feels guilty; shame tugging tight the strings in his chest. Another sensation he isn’t particularly used to. He doesn’t stop you when you wander off in the direction of the huts, not even sparing him a second glance.

Wonwoo feels as if he’s standing at the edge of the world, gathering up the courage to blindly jump off. Tension tugs at his nerves, sizzles underneath his skin and seeds of uncertainty seem to have taken up residence within every corner of his chest.

Truthfully, he has never apologized for anything before, has never had to. Life with forest creatures, beings of serenity and peace, rarely get into arguments, rarely differ enough in spiritual wavelengths for misunderstandings to be made. Evidently, humanity is not quite so simple. And so, here Wonwoo stands, at the metaphorical edge of the world.

It occurs to him that perhaps he has been the narrow-minded one. That maybe he takes for granted the sense of calm and belonging he feels beneath the shade of dark green trees. Not, mind you, a realization he comes to entirely on his own; it takes a talking to as stern as he imagines the old woman to be able to give to truly make him reconsider his stance about what he had previously written off as ungratefulness.

So he does something he’s never done before – a somehow common occurrence these days – and he puts himself in your shoes. He imagines that his people raise him as a savior, as a means to and end, as a something rather than a someone. He listens to the old woman describe her youth praised as a hero, all up to the day she was tied up and blindfolded and lead into the place she’d been told horror stories of ever since she was born.

He imagines that his own King abandons him, leaves him to die so his people can live. He imagines all of this, and he feels ill. It’s such an inconceivable thing, such an impossibility, and yet, the evidence of such a thing existing is right there, tucked behind the curtains of a floral hut. He inhales, horrified to find his breath uneven, and then he knocks at the wooden edges of your hut.

He’s not at all surprised to see your expression harden as you stick your head out of the hut to inspect his crouched over form, but he will admit that some of his resolve seems to scurry away at the sight of you. Wonwoo isn’t a cowardly man, but it seems you know how to bring out the poorest parts of him.

”What?” You mutter, voice somewhere between a hiss and a murmur. You haven’t spoken a word to him since your argument, he’s barely even seen you outside your little home, and somehow, even if your tone is less than friendly, the sound is welcome.

Wonwoo falters. He clears his throat, diverts his eyes. His apology lies on his tongue, coated in something thick and sticky, and he can’t quite seem to get it out. You stare unblinkingly at him as he opens his mouth, closes it again.

”Come,” he says at last, deciding to change tactics. You open your mouth, undoubtedly to complain or refuse, but Wonwoo holds up his hands in a disarming gesture, making your mouth shut again with an audible snap. “I want to show you something.”

___

There’s a place in the forest that Wonwoo has, at least privately, claimed as his own. A humble clearing decorated by a crystal clear pond, a quiet little sanctuary where time seems to stand completely still. Untouched by both humanity and forest creatures, it’s the place where Wonwoo feels the most at rest. There’s always been sort of a reassurance in that he’s the only one who knows about it, that aside from the swarm of beautifully colored butterflies, no one but Wonwoo breathes in this space.

The moment you step into the clearing, Wonwoo hears your sharp intake of breath, a sort of quiet, unrestrained gasp that makes his eyes instinctively look for your expression. He’s reminded of when you first entered the heart of the forest, unbridled wonder softening your features and making you look like an entirely new person. You blink, mouth open and hands curled into loose fists, and when you turn to look at him, there is – for perhaps the first time – no venom to be seen in your eyes.

”What is this place?” You ask breathlessly, standing on the very edge of the clearing as if you’re afraid you’ll ruin it by getting too close. Wonwoo feels like he’s on display, as if he’s showing you the deepest, most private parts of himself. In a sense, he might as well be. Wonwoo doesn’t have secrets, he only has this one, private thing. Dryads are raised to be selfless, to be humble and open. This place might be the closest thing Wonwoo has to humanity.

”It’s–” he starts, cuts himself off. He feels strangely vulnerable, oddly out of place. Somehow he wants to impress you, to gain your approval. Which isn’t something he’s really excelled at so far, it seems. “You said you wanted to be alone,” he tries, words awkwardly tumbling out of his mouth. “This is where I go to be alone.”

You hum; a surprisingly soft sound for someone who’s been anything but, and the smoothness of it sends shivers down his spine. “So this is your apology.” It’s not a question, but it’s not as accusatory as Wonwoo would’ve expected either. There’s a hint of playfulness, of something light and almost teasing in the tone of your voice. Wonwoo blinks, and he thinks the slight upwards curve of your mouth might be a trick of the light.

”I’ve been told I can be,” he pauses, reluctant to admit his shortcomings. You look at him expectantly, and Wonwoo’s face heats up. It’s never done that before. “Narrow-minded,” he finishes lamely. At that, you snort somewhat derogatorily, and Wonwoo thinks he should probably be offended. “I’d like for you to– to enjoy your life here.”

Wonwoo sees the flicker of something akin to sadness flash across your features, and it strikes him that ‘enjoying your life here’ might not be exactly what you’d wanted for yourself. That it might not really be as ideal a situation as the King and the old woman – and Wonwoo too, he realized – thinks it to be. For as much as a safehaven for the sacrifices the forest is, it is not the natural home of a human. A strange kind of grief takes hold of him, a foreign and horrible sensation that grips at his chest and makes his throat tight.

”In any case,” he hurries, the silence too heavy for him to handle. “When you need to be alone, I can, uh, I can take you here.”

This time, you really do smile; a soft and almost unnoticeable thing that – though it seems genuine – lacks the sort of joy to it that Wonwoo is used to see from the faeries and the elves, whose mouths are locked in a permanent, decorative upturn of lips. “I accept your apology,” you tell him, head bowed ever so slightly and voice impossibly soft. “Thank you.”

He’s changing, Wonwoo thinks. He doesn’t know why, or how he knows, but he’s changing.

With the blink of an eye, what used to be Wonwoo’s sanctuary is suddenly a shared thing. You ask him to take you there almost every day, spending hours just sitting with your feet dipping in the water of the pond or lying flat out on the soft grass. There was one time you’d disappeared from your hut without anyone noticing, and Wonwoo almost had a panic attack before he realized that there was really only one place to look for you.

The animosity is completely gone; exchanged for a slow build of easy quips and curious questions. Wonwoo doesn’t think he’s spoken so much in his entire lifespan; the overexposure to your inquisitive nature almost making him winded at times. Rarely do you talk about yourself, or your life before the sacrifice. Maybe it’s because Wonwoo doesn’t ask. Common courtesy dictates that he probably should.

He doesn’t. Perhaps because he’s scared to. Wonwoo has never been a Guardian before, but he’s seen multiple of them at work throughout his life. He’s seen them handle their humans with care, with respect and with empathy. He’s seen them be distant and cordial. He’s never seen them sprawled on the grass trading jokes or whispering secrets. He’s never seen them share parts of themselves with the outsiders.

Wonwoo’s tip toeing so close to the edge he feels like he might as well be free-falling.

___

“How old are you?” You ask one day, form relaxed as you lean against the trunk of a thick tree right by the pond. Wonwoo’s sitting next to you, so close your shoulders are almost bumping against each other. You’re twirling a yellow flower between your fingers, head leaning towards him in a way that suggest a sense of comfort that Wonwoo never imagined someone would have towards him. He finds that he doesn’t mind it. “I mean you look pretty young, compared to the other ones, but it’s kind of hard to guesstimate the age of a tree.”

Wonwoo frowns, unsure of what to make of the new descriptor of himself and suddenly strangely self-conscious. “Does it matter?”

The flower in your hand stops twirling. “I suppose it doesn’t,” you mutter, but you can’t quite conceal the twinge of disappointment in your voice. Wonwoo peers down at you, finds himself oddly charmed by your pout and the way your brows knit together.

It’s not the first time in the past few weeks he’s found himself endeared by your oddities; with time he comes to enjoy your company in a way that makes him almost worried. Dryads are emphatic, caring creatures by nature, but they are supposed to be elusive, untouchable for things who are not of their own blood. For as much as you are his responsibility, his given task; he feels protective. Gaining your favor has been an uphill battle, and even now you are quick to withdraw when you feel he doesn’t respond in the way you want him to. In short, you don’t feel like a subject; you feel like something much more, something dangerous, something–

“I think you’ve made me sick,” the words are out before he realizes he’s even opened his mouth. It’s not the most eloquent thing to say, but it’s not a lie either. With every instance of prolonged exposure, Wonwoo feels as if he’s about to crawl out of his own skin. He feels hot and cold at the same time, he feels as if he can’t even think. Wonwoo has always been a creature of logic, of collected calmness and emotional distance. He feels off-kilter and strange with this newfound sort of affection he feels for this human life he’s supposed to protect.

It’s not an entirely unpleasant feeling, but it makes him nervous nonetheless.

“Excuse me?” You shift to look up at him from your laid back position against the tree trunk, expression part worry, part incredulous. “Look, I’m sorry I asked about your age, I didn’t know it was such a touchy subject, but you don’t have to be rude.”

“No,” Wonwoo amends, voice slow and careful as he searches for a better way to word himself. “I feel sick,” he puts a hand to his chest, grasps at the fabric of his soft, silky tunic. “My chest feels heavy. I’m dizzy, distracted. It hurts to be near you, but it hurts to be away, too.” Even as he’s speaking, Wonwoo feels the rate of his heart speed up and the palms of his hands turn clammy. “Is this some kind of human illness?”

For a long moment, you only stare at him, silence hanging between you like a heavy blanket. He wonders if he’s offended you, or if he’s describing something incurable, something you’re afraid to name. You drop the flower and Wonwoo watches as it falls into your lap as you push yourself up into a straighter position.

“I don’t,” you murmur, so quietly and softly that Wonwoo almost has to lean in to hear you. “I don’t think that’s an illness, Wonwoo.”

You refuse to elaborate further, even though Wonwoo prods and questions; even goes as far as attempting to blackmail you, and the dryad feels as if he’s missing something. Something obvious, something important.

___

The answer comes in the form of a conversation with the old woman. At first Wonwoo insists he’s going to let it go, that he doesn’t care about your human secrets. But as time passes, the condition only worsens, and by the end of the month, Wonwoo feels like he can’t breathe in your company. It’s like everything changes after the conversation about his supposed non-illness; Wonwoo is at all times acutely aware of your presence, even when you’re not by his side. He feels tingly, jittery, like he’s trying to burst out of his own body. There are times when his hands reach out all on their own, eager to touch; as if the feel of your skin beneath his palm would somehow ease his discomfort.

It must be more obvious than he thinks, considering it’s the old woman who seeks him out and pulls him aside in the end.

“It looks like the two of you’ve gotten close,” she says, a sort of playful accusation lacing the shivering tones of her voice. Wonwoo doesn’t know much about humanity, but he knows about death. It looms over the old woman like a ghost, clings to her body so tightly he swears he can smell it. Death never bothered Wonwoo before; dryads get dreadfully old and fade elegantly. The prospect of returning to the earth never scared him. But Wonwoo looks at the old woman and he sees you; as vividly as if he’s staring into the future. And that; that scares him. The fact that the old woman was like you when she arrived, and with the snap of time’s fingers, this is all that’s left.

“I guess,” he mutters, reluctant to be truthful. For a moment this urge confuses him, makes him think that maybe he’s ashamed. A second later he realizes it’s possessiveness that grips at his insides, a wish to keep his closeness to you private, a secret only meant for the two of you.

“That’s nice,” the woman sighs contentedly. “It’s good to see some humanity in you.”

“Humanity,” Wonwoo echoes, the word leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. “Is that what this crushing, mind-numbing sensation is?” Instinctively, he reaches for his chest, presses his palm over his heart. Even now, it’s throbbing; thudding against his rib cage so quickly he can barely count the beats. “All humans feel so helpless around their close ones?”

For a second, the woman seems taken aback with his openness. Wonwoo does not blame her; words and confessions tumble out of his mouth too fast for his mind to keep up, yet another side effect of his strange, human affliction. A distinctly un-dryad feature Wonwoo isn’t quite sure how to deal with. She gazes at him, a clever sort of smile toying with her wrinkled face.

“Ah,” she muses, leaning back in her plush, custom made chair. “I suppose in a sense it is.” Leave it to an old woman to be cryptic, Wonwoo thinks to himself, in a voice that sound suspiciously like yours. “That’s love, Wonwoo,” she adds, hands folded in her lap as she peers at him through barely open eyes. “That’s just being in love.”

The concept of love is not one that Wonwoo is particularly familiar with. Dryads’ way of love is that of the earth; they love nature and all of earth’s creations, but they do so in a way that is not meant for the individual. A dryad doesn’t love selfishly, doesn’t long to possess. The love that the old woman describes, the one that resonates and echoes within him, is distinctly selfish. The want to possess, the need to be close, the wish to have your feelings returned. All of these things scare Wonwoo; they should not exist within him. But he looks at you, at the way your fingertips glide along the blank surface of the pond, and he cannot find it in him to deny it.

Love. The word echoes, bounces around the inside of his rib cage. Love, love, love. It might as well be an illness, for all the good it does him. Love is an impossibility; there is no place for such a trivial thing in the Dead Forest. Not for him, and certainly not for you, whose existence is but a mere droplet in the vast sea of dryad lifespans. The inside of him feels rotted, in a way that’s both horrible and exhilarating.

“Wonwoo,” you call, pulling the dryad out of his thoughts. He realizes he’s been staring, brows furrowed so tightly his head hurts and it takes deliberate action to ease them out again. “Is something wrong? You look like you’ve eaten something gross.”

He blinks, watches you carefully. Wonwoo remembers his initial thoughts months ago, when he was treading the forest path to find you sitting on your wooden pedestal, bound and gagged and waiting for whatever you might’ve imagined the Dead Forest to harbor. He remembers his derogatory thoughts and your antagonistic posture. Perhaps this is his punishment, he thinks, for underestimating you in the first place. Perhaps this blossoming, wild feeling in his chest is what he gets, for thinking himself better than you.

“No,” he says, stepping over soft grass to sit next to you. Here, he feels content despite himself, tilting his head and closing his eyes to listen to the soft breeze caressing his skin. “No, everything is fine.”

___

The old woman passes away during the summer. As quietly, as peacefully as she’d lived, she drifts asleep in her chair, a gentle curve of a smile adorning her wrinkled face. Human death always seems to come sneaking up on Wonwoo; it’s hard to gauge just when a human is at the end of their lifespan, their final couple of decades riddled with weakness and minor or major illnesses. The first woman had passed in a fit of a violent, painful illness that the forest creatures could do nothing about, if nothing else, Wonwoo is thankful for this one going gently.

Still, there’s an ache in his chest, something that feels both similar and completely different from the one he’d identified as his romantic affection towards you. Something dark and gloomy that makes his throat tight and his mind numb. Grief, he realizes only after seeing the hollowed out expression on your face. A distinctly human emotion; reserved for beings with no lasting footprint left on the planet. Dryads do not grieve each other, for they know that death is merely the soul returning to the earth where it belongs. It’s just the next step in the everlasting adventure that is existing. For humanity, it’s the end of the line.

Wonwoo isn’t sure if he grieves for himself, or if he grieves for the heartbroken look on your face, for the way your voice sounds muted when you request that Wonwoo leaves you alone for a while.

So he does. Wonwoo leaves you to sort your own grief out and he waits. He watches. Watches the King’s glow, muted now; flickering almost like a candle blowing dangerously against the wind. Wonwoo supposes he’s not the only one struggling with the exposure of human emotion. He has never seen his King like this, never seen him walk so quietly, as if he doesn’t want to be observed. It makes him feel less alone, somehow, and he guesses that’s humanity as well; a concept that seems to have overcome him completely, tainted him to the point of no return.

He can’t even find it in him to curse it, not when he’s too preoccupied worrying over the closed curtain of your hut.

___

(When you first arrived, you had been reluctant to integrate yourself into the society of the forest. Wonwoo is not so self-obsessed that he believes it was himself who single-handedly helped you over this hurdle; he knows that the now deceased woman played a big part in making the forest feel like a home. Wonwoo tries to imagine a place where he’s the odd one out, where he has nothing – not even a lifespan – in common with the creatures around him. He imagines that having that one person, a single piece of comfort, was instrumental to the fact that he was able to watch you interact with faeries and dryads alike.

Once the woman is gone, you seem to lose your footing. You rarely leave the hut, and when you do it’s with eyes glued to the ground. Wonwoo sees the rim of red around your eyes, knows that you’ve been crying. The fact that he never sees you do so does little to soothe the stinging sensation in his chest.

It feels like deja-vu when he knocks on the wood of your hut and urges you to follow his lead.)

“I worry,” Wonwoo tells you frankly once you’ve reached the sanctuary. He takes you to the tree where you like to sit, signals for you to sit down before he follows suit. His shoulder brushes against yours. He leans into it, courage ignited when he feels you sag against him in return. The contact makes his heart swell, even as the feeling battles against the growing sensation of pain that seems to rattle his rib cage. “You’re not happy here. Not anymore.”

It’s not a question, because Wonwoo does not need to ask. When you first arrived, Wonwoo swore he would never understand your irregular switches of emotion, that your expressions and gestures would continue to confuse and distract him until you withered away like the rest of the women. Now, though, he recognizes the furrow of your brow, the downwards tug of your lips, and he feels heavy. An illness, he had thought; some human borne disease he had caught through over exposure. He knows better now, but somehow he feels even more clueless. What is love, when your lifespan is so ridiculously short and insignificant? What is the point, when you could be gone within just the blink of an eye? There is none, he concludes, but the yearning persists, and his body feels just as heavy.

“No, Wonwoo,” you admit, an attempt at easiness to your voice that doesn’t quite convince him. No use in denying it, but then he admires that part of you; the blunt yet somehow pillowed honesty you seem to possess. “I am not.”

“What was your village like?” He asks, painfully aware that it’s the first time he inquires about your life before the forest. Part of him doesn’t want to know, doesn’t want to think about the possibility that you preferred your time without him, but he supposes it’s a conversation long overdue anyways. “Were you happier there?”

You inhale, shoulders stiff as if you’re preparing for a fight. It’s a defensive stance that Wonwoo hasn’t seen on you in a while.

“I guess,” you begin, brows furrowed. It’s almost as if you struggle to remember, as if the memories are so distant by now they become blurry. “I guess I was happy. In the beginning. Before I knew about this whole sacrifice bullshit.”

“When did you find out?”

“When I was ten,” you tell him, voice carefully carefree. Maybe you think you can conceal the heaviness of the topic with a gentle tone, but Wonwoo recognizes the twitch of your jaw, notices the way your fist curls into grass as you speak. “There was a ceremony and everything. A cleansing, they called it, to make sure you’d be accepted by the forest.” It sounds silly, when you put it like that; both you and Wonwoo know that the forest makes no judgments about your state, that the King would gladly welcome any who stepped inside; be they willing or sacrifice. But you both know that there is no such thing as a creature demanding sacrifice either, so he supposes the point is moot. “Apparently it was decided on the day I was born. I didn’t even know.”

“The other one—“ Wonwoo catches himself, mindful now of how he objectifies and dehumanizes the women who come to the forest. How despite the now deceased woman being with them for half a century, he never called – never even thought of – her by name. “Solar was happy. She lived a good life here.”

You sigh. He thinks he might have said the wrong thing. Again. “I am not Solar.”

“I know,” he murmurs, barely hears his own voice over the beating of his heart. “Solar was simple. She wasn’t as stubborn as you. You’re so much more.” He stumbles over words and half-finished confessions, grasps after something to say that might soothe your miserable grieving. “Is it me? Did I fail as Guardian?”

When you reach for his hand, weave your fingers between his own, a part of Wonwoo feels like it’s being ripped apart. He watches, carefully commits to memory the feel of your palm against his, the look of his long, slim digits intertwined with your shorter, human fingers. If nothing else, he wants to remember that; despite the sensation of oncoming heartbreak, he wants to keep the feeling of togetherness, of intimacy, close to his chest.

“No, you didn’t fail,” you whisper, hand squeezing his own. “Even if you’re a bit dense sometimes.” You lean your head on his shoulder, and it feels as if something locks into place. “You’re a wonder, Wonwoo.”

For a blissful, quiet moment, that is all there is. Your head against his shoulder and your palm against his. Wonwoo almost thinks you’ve fallen asleep, only knows you haven’t by the stolen glances at your face. He doesn’t want to ask, but the question lies ready on his tongue. He wills himself to choke it back down, to just take this moment for what it is and pretend like he doesn’t know the answer. But his newfound humanity gets the best of him, and again, Wonwoo opens his mouth.

“Then,” he hesitates, mind mulling over this question he does not want to hear the answer to. “If you could leave,” you do not look his way, head carefully lowered and gaze fixed at your own feet. “Would you?”

You do not respond, perhaps because you don’t really need to. Wonwoo’s chest aches. He has an urge to reach for you, to keep you trapped between his arms and make sure you never leave.

But he can’t. He just sits there, with his bleeding heart and his unease. It feels as if he’s wilting.

Wonwoo feels as if he’s standing at the edge of the world. It’s not the same feeling as it was before.

The King sits before him, glow still muted but slowly returning, the two of them tucked away in the King’s own living quarters. It’s a humble thing; only a few necessities here and there, the main space of the room occupied by the wooden, decorated throne the entity sits on. Wonwoo has never felt the need to keep secrets from his King, has never had anything private to even keep secret, but worry seeps into his skin. It’s no simple favor he’s about to request.

“I think,” he begins, tries to keep his voice calm and unaffected. “I think we should bring the human back to her people.”

The King hums, the sound echoing and bouncing inside Wonwoo’s head. It’s hard to know whether it’s a disapproving sound or not; but then that has always been the case with the leader of the forest creatures. “Back to the humans? To the people who sacrificed her? What makes you think that?”

“She’s not happy here. Not after– after Solar died,” Wonwoo doesn’t miss the flicker of light around the King’s form. He wonders, in the back of his mind, if the King and the old woman were closer than he’d noticed. “Keeping her here against her wishes would be cruel.”

Wonwoo clears his throat. He has always been a creature of logic; perhaps this time he can put it to good use. “Besides, if the humans see one of their own return safely, perhaps this tradition of theirs can finally end.”

“That is not such a bad argument,” the King agrees, and Wonwoo inhales. Never has doing the right thing felt so awful. “But what of you, then, Wonwoo?”

“What do you mean?”

The King looks at him knowingly. “You’ve grown fond of this human. What will you do if she leaves? Once she does, you know she can never return.”

Wonwoo’s willpower wavers. He knows this, of course, but hearing it rom none other than the king makes it real in a way it wasn’t before. Part of him wishes that when he presents you with the opportunity to leave you’ll refuse it, that you’ll choose to stay by his side for as long as your human lifespan allows you to. But Wonwoo is not stupid, and the sting in his chest tells him that even if that was so, he would not want to keep you chained up to a place you do not belong.

Even if he wishes he could.

“I know,” he says instead, swallowing thickly. “My duty as Guardian is first and foremost to ensure the sacrifice’s happiness. This is it.”

“And if I told you to discard of your duties and speak freely?”

“My priorities remain the same.”

It’s as close to an admission as Wonwoo has ever spoken out loud; he can tell by the look on the King’s face that the eternal being is not surprised. Wonwoo wonders if he’s been tested somehow. He wonders if he just passed or failed.

“When I appointed you as Guardian I told you it was for a reason, that you did not need to worry,” the King tells him, fondness vivid in the tone of his voice. “You have done your duties, now allow yourself some selfishness.” Wonwoo almost thinks he’s heard the King wrong; that he must have somehow misspoken. To encourage selfishness is not something Wonwoo has ever encountered before, to hear it from the King himself is close to an impossibility.

“If you do not wish to part ways with the human, I will not force you to,” the King says. “But know that the same rules apply. You will not be able to return.”

“You’re telling me I can leave?” Wonwoo asks in a rush of air. It’s such a foreign concept; a dryad leaving the Dead Forest, that he cannot really be certain the King is telling the truth. “But no one has ever left the forest before.”

The King inclines his head. “As you said, it might be time for changes. Perhaps this is the catalyst for a new era, a time where humans need not be scared of the forest, and we not so scared of the world outside.”

“I don’t–” Wonwoo’s voice cracks. A thousand things seem to come to life inside of him. Fear, elation, excitement, terror. He imagines walking out of the forest that has been his home for his entire lifetime. He imagines doing so with you by his side. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Then do not rush. It’s a big decision,” something like a laugh echoes in the King’s voice. “Shall you choose to go, know you’ll leave behind your immortality. You will live and die like the humans do.”

“Thank you,” is all Wonwoo manages to respond. And then he bows, before he leaves the King’s abode.

___

When Wonwoo leaves the King’s living quarters, there is only one place he can think to go. He doesn’t go to his sanctuary, like he would before when he needed to think. He doesn’t go to his own given spot, doesn’t retreat into his tree-form for some much needed solitude. Instead, Wonwoo makes a direct line towards the hut where he knows you’ll be.

He doesn’t knock, too frenzied and energized to even stop for a second to consider proper etiquette. Instead, Wonwoo rushes in, manages to give you quite the fright in the process.

“Jeez, Wonwoo,” you mutter, hands clasped above your chest. You’re sitting in the middle of the floor of your simple hut, mindlessly toying with a self-made flower crown. “Do you not know how to knock?”

On any other day, Wonwoo might’ve apologized. On any other day, he wouldn’t have barged in in the first place, but Wonwoo looks at you and it becomes clear as day what choice he is about to make. Suddenly he feels like every moment not spent truthfully and openly has been a waste. He is not about to waste any more.

“Do you want to leave?” He asks, the question abrupt as it tumbles out of his mouth. You open your mouth, brows furrowed as you look him up and down. “I mean— you wanted to leave, right? To go back to the humans.”

Your mouth turns down at the edges, and Wonwoo finds that he wants to trace the lines of your lips. “I— yeah? But Wonwoo, I don’t mean—“

“I know,” he interrupts, hoping that he’s right in his assumptions about what you were going to say. He steps closer, crouches down next to you. “You can leave. We— we can leave. We’ll go together.”

Wonwoo has never been the adventurous sort; has been perfectly comfortable with his quiet life in the forest. But as he reaches for your hands, envelops them in his own, it feels like an adventure. Venturing out of the forest; it feels like an adventure.

“We?” You echo, staring down at your hands. “What are you talking about?”

“The King has granted permission for you to go back to your people,” Wonwoo tries to speak slower, tries not to notice the sizzle in his skin as he rubs his thumbs across the back of your hands. “And me as well, if you’ll have me.”

“You– you’d leave? For me?” There is disbelief and amazement coating the tones of your voice, and for a dizzying, blinding moment, Wonwoo fears that maybe he has not become as integral a part of you as you have of him. “Wonwoo, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“I’m asking you to let me,” he tells you, careful circles pressed into your skin. “You’ve changed everything I used to know about myself. I can’t be without you, and I want you to be happy. If you can’t be happy here, then we’ll leave.”

“There’ll be hundreds like me,” Wonwoo sees your lip quiver, hears uncertainty and self-consciousness in your voice. He lets go of your hands, glides his fingers up along your arms; tips traveling along the curve of your neck until he reaches your cheeks. There, he stops, carefully cupping your face. Wonwoo hasn’t experienced closeness before, finds that it’s an entirely instinctual thing. He drags his thumbs along the soft skin above your cheekbones, gaze locked to yours. “don’t throw away your life for me.”

“No,” he murmurs, with a confidence that surprises even him. “There’s no one like you. I’m sure I could go to the ends of the world and not find a creature half as stubborn.” At that, you laugh; a soft and fragile sound that echoes like bells in Wonwoo’s sharp ears. It makes him want to lean into it, to consume the sound and trap it within himself.

“Looks like it’s rubbing off on you,” you tell him, a teasing edge to the sound of your voice. “Is this what you really want?” You continue, quieter now, more serious. You reach to gently touch his face, leaving tingles in the wake of your fingertips against his skin. “Do you really think I’m worth it?”

Wonwoo relents, then, gives into his ever growing urges and leans completely into you. His lips press against yours and you gasp into his mouth, the sound only encouraging him further. He pulls at your face, presses fingertips into your skin hard enough to hurt. His eyes close and his mouth moves on its own, a low shudder starting from the back of his neck with the sensation of your soft, pillowy lips against his own.

Your own arms wind around his neck, and suddenly there is no space left, your chest flush against his own and your heart pounding and knocking against his rip cage at a speed that matches his. He pulls, tugs, squeezes as if he wants to merge your bodies together completely. It’s such an overwhelming sensation that he nearly feels like he’s about to explode. Only the need for oxygen makes him pull away, pressing his forehead against yours.

He exhales; it’s as if he’s been unfinished, as if he’s been lacking, as if only now, only with this moment has he become a whole, completed being. He feels elevated, invincible. And he knows, with a certainty he has never felt before, that there is only one way to answer your question.

“Yes.”

TWO MONTHS LATER

Wonwoo sits inside the metal box – a vehicle, you’d told him; a car – leans against the transparent glass at his side. To his left, you’ve got your hands on a circular device, fingers tapping against the smooth, not quite soft material it’s made of. The car makes a loud, booming sound. The sound used to scare him, but he supposes you were right in saying it’s something you get used to quickly.

You turn to look at him, remove a hand from the wheel to grasp one of his. “Wonwoo,” you murmur, thumb stroking pleasant circles into the skin of his palm. “Are you awake?”

He turns to face you, takes in the appearance of a human in its natural habitat. You’re cleaner than you ever was in the forest – thanks to a miracle of a machine called the shower – dressed in a large sweater and pants made out of a coarse, blue fabric. Your hair is tied behind your head and a pair of dark tinted glasses rests at the tip of your nose. There’s something vibrant and alive about your features that he never used to see in the forest. His chest tightens, but it’s a wholly wonderful feeling.

“Yes,” he replies, twists his hand to grasp yours, intertwining your fingers. For weeks, the two of you have been on the road, searching for what you call ‘the hunters’. It sounds like an ominous sort of organization, but you reassure him that they are, as you call them, ‘the good guys’. “Have we arrived?”

You sigh, lean back against the soft backrest of your seat. “No, not yet,” you mutter, an apologetic tint to your voice. “This is proving to be much harder than I thought it’d be.”

You don’t need to tell Wonwoo that; he can see the signs of fatigue easily in the lines of your face. Dark circles paint the underside of your eyes, your body language slower than it used to be. Wonwoo wants to soothe your ailments, to will your tiredness away. As it is, all he can really do is squeeze your hand. He hums.

“We’ll get there,” he says, though he doesn’t even really know where there is. He puts his trust in you, refrains from voicing his concerns about your appearance. “We should stop for the night. You’re tired.”

You open your mouth, a deep, loud exhale falling out from between your lips. He’s right, and he knows that you know it. You only ever make a sound like that when you’re about to give in. His mouth twitches with a self-satisfactory smile.

“The car tonight, then?” You ask rhetorically; there’s not a single house in sight, only a road that seems to go on forever. “I’m sure you’re glad you gave up your immortality for this.” You try to play it off as a joke, but Wonwoo hears the bitterness, the latent sorrow of a return that did not go as planned.

A cult, you’d called it; a group of zealous people with a singular goal and the moral depravity to obtain them by any possible means. Returning to your home outside the forest had sent you right into the middle of a meeting between a dozen masked humans, each more shocked than the next at your appearance. They had seemed nice enough at first, if a bit too interested in Wonwoo’s clearly inhuman form.

A mere fortnight had passed before they had attempted a second sacrifice. Wonwoo swears that the sight of you, tied to a pyre in the middle of an otherwise friendly looking town square, will never quite leave him. Dryads are, first and foremost, creatures of peace, of tranquility. But Wonwoo is no longer a dryad, and his allegiance rests solely with the human he has sworn to spend his now limited lifetime protecting.

He wonders what his King would say, had he known that Wonwoo used the tiny bit of magic he has left to slay an entire human village.

Or what he would say, had Wonwoo told him he would do it again.

“Even death,” Wonwoo says, bringing your hand up to his face, leans against it and brushes his nose against your knuckles. “Would be worth your safety and happiness.” It’s a strong sentiment, way past the range of emotions Wonwoo used to feel just a year ago. Not as strong, though, as the sentiments he keeps to himself, the ones that feel too big, too grand to say out loud.

Something as simple as the fact that he loves you, so much and so strongly that not even the darkest creatures of the underworld could shake his commitment. It feels like a statement too true to say out loud, as if the magic would be broken if he opened his mouth.

“Even losing your home? Everyone you love?”

But then, you always had a way of forcing his hand.

“You are my home,” he says, gazing out at the darkness of the outer world. So many things he has not seen yet. Things bound to be worse, better, stranger than the cult and the forest. “You are–”

The car stops, and you twist around quickly to face him. There’s a genuine sort of smile on your face, a more common occurrence now than ever before. You take his face between your hands, fingertips tracing the lines of his cheekbones. A warmth spreads through his body as he places his own hands on top of yours. “Silly plant boy,” you murmur with affection. “I love you, too.” You press a kiss to his lips, a quick, casual thing. Even that feels like a blessing; a closeness so comfortable that gestures need not be grand anymore.

“We’ll figure it out,” you add, confidently now, seemingly invigorated by your own confession. “We’ll find the hunters and stop that stupid cult,” you grimace at the mention of your previous home and the implications of their depravities. “But first, let’s get some rest.”

Wonwoo might never get used to sleeping in the back of a car, your body heavy on top of his own and your even breathing tickling at his throat, and he might never truly get rid of the queasiness that comes with hours spent riding inside it. But the feel of your hand resting at his side, your legs tangled with his and your lip pressed to the pulse of his neck–

that he’ll adjust to just fine.

#svt fanfic #seventeen fanfic #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #svt scenarios #svt imagines #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios

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sotwk · 7 months

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Hobbits and the Greenwood Elves

Happy Hobbit Day! In honor of Bilbo and Frodo’s birthdays, please enjoy these headcanons regarding the history and friendship between the Hobbits of the Shire (Bilbo’s people) and the Silvan Elves of Greenwood (Thranduil’s people).

Requested by my dear @laneynoir a while back--thank you for your patience!

Disclaimer: Please note that a good portion of the info below are SotWK AU headcanons only, inspired by official Tolkien canon.

Hobbits and the Greenwood Elves

Early Hobbits in Rhovanion

The Silvan Elves of Greenwood (Thranduil’s people) encountered the early “breeds” of Hobbit centuries before they came to the attention of the peoples who dwelt west of the mountains.

All three Hobbit breeds (Fallohides, Harfoots, Stoors) resided in the lands surrounding the Woodland Realm as early as the start of Thranduil’s reign, but for many years they kept to themselves and avoided contact with other races.

The Fallohides, from whom the Brandybucks, Tooks, and Bolgers descended, initially dwelt in the southern eves of Greenwood and first made friends with the Northmen in their area. Hearing tales from the Men regarding the benevolence of the Elvenking and his family, the Fallowhides accepted the outreach of Thranduil and his people, and eventually formed friendships with them.

The Stoors, who lived a little further away in the Vales of Anduin, quickly followed suit. They even established low-level trade with the Silvan Elves, exchanging their catches from the Anduin for products from the Greenwood.

The Harfoots were shyer of the Elves and lived closer to the foot of the Misty Mountains, and therefore did not have as close relations with the Silvans as the other two clans.

Two Greenwood Princes were more familiar with the Fallohides and Stoors than the rest of their family: Princes Turhir and Gelir, since the western lands under their guardianship were closest to the dwellings of the hobbits.

Prince Gelir had a special fondness for Hobbits, delighting most especially in their simple yet lively customs and culture. He continued to value friendship with them long after he departed from the Elvenking’s realm.

Dol Guldur Drives the Hobbits Away

As time passed into the Third Age, the Shadow that grew upon Dol Guldur was felt by the Hobbits as well as the Elves, and soon began to pose serious threats to their lives.

Thranduil and his sons did everything they could to protect both the Hobbits and the Northmen from the worst of Dol Guldur’s creatures. But the Hobbits in particular were incapable of withstanding the Necromancer’s strange and dark evils, and their attempts to evade the Shadow’s reach by moving northward failed.

While the Harfoots were quick to retreat across the mountain to Eriador, the Fallohides and Stoors lingered in the east for a century longer, less willing to abandon the home they loved near the Elves.

However, as the dangers continued to grow, Thranduil and his warriors could no longer guarantee the safety of the Hobbits on top of protecting their own people.

Despite their friendship, the Hobbits refused the Elves' invitation to reside amongst them in the forest. They planned instead to migrate further north toward the Grey Mountains.

Elvenqueen Maereth counseled the Fallohides and Stoors to head westward instead and “rejoin” the Harfoots in Eriador, with a vague foresight of the foundation of the Shire and its importance to the future of Middle-earth.

Only after the Fallohides and Stoors had safely crossed into Eriador did Thranduil pull back the last of his defenders north of the Emyn Duir, essentially abandoning the southwestern region of the Greenwood.

Connection with Smeagol

Around TA 1350, the Stoors residing in the Angle fled from the growing threat of Angmar upon Eriador, and some of them returned to Rhovanion to reside in the Vales of Anduin once more. From this community of Stoors, Smeagol descended.

Although Thranduil received word of the reemergence of Hobbits in the Vales, he could not spare any resources to oversee their protection.

However, Prince Gelir continued to send out his own patrols into the Anduin to check on the Stoors once every year, during the summer season.

In TA 2463, when the One Ring was found by Deagol and taken by Smeagol, the Mirkwood Elves were too preoccupied with the resurgence of Dol Guldur to notice the evil that had transpired.

Five hundred years later, when Gandalf brought the captive Gollum to Mirkwood for guarding, the Silvan Elves recognized the wretched creature as a Stoor, a race they remembered with fondness as friends. This stirred their pity towards Gollum and led them to treat him more gently.

The Long and Fell Winters

The care of Thranduil and his family for Hobbits continued from a distance well into the Third Age, even as death began to claim the lives of the princes.

In TA 2759, the Long Winter occurred in Eriador and a terrible famine followed in the Shire. Gelir, the only Thranduilion left who continued to travel across the west, learned of the plight of the Hobbits and beseeched his parents to send aid.

In response, the King and Queen sent Gelir, Itarildë (their daughter-in-law), and Anariel (their granddaughter) to ride out with provisions, provide healing, and abate the effects of the famine. This was done so discreetly (they did not reveal their identities as Elves, much less royalty), the deed went unrecorded in Shire history.

This outreach was replicated once more during the Fell Winter of TA 2911 to 2912, when Thranduil permitted Itarildë and Anariel to join Gandalf in helping the Shire Hobbits.

Bilbo was already alive and 22 years old on this occasion. He had the memory of encountering the two extraordinarily beautiful women in the Shire, whom he suspected, but could not confirm, were Elves.

Bilbo and Thranduil’s Friendship

Bilbo never truly “met” an elf before first meeting Elrond in Rivendell. However, his ancestors’ ancient friendship with the Greenwood Elves still resided in his heart. Even during his misadventures with Thorin’s Company in Mirkwood, Bilbo never really felt fearful of the Elvenking or his people, even though he could not explain to himself why.

Bilbo’s instinct to trust Thranduil and stand by him during the Battle of the Five Armies echoed the sentiments of his ancestors, who once also loved the Elvenking and trusted him to protect them.

Bilbo and Thranduil’s initial interactions with each other felt like the reunion of “old friends”, which led to their feelings of kinship and the long bond that remained between them for years after.

Even with everything that he was dealing with in his own kingdom, Thranduil managed to discreetly visit Bilbo at least once in the Shire, during which the Elvenking was introduced to the recently born Frodo Baggins (too young to have any memory of this encounter).

Regarding Legolas and the Hobbits of the Fellowship

It is a common joke in the fandom that Legolas is scarcely mentioned as directly interacting with Frodo or the other hobbits, and almost never in the films. The SotWK AU does not accept this distant behavior from the Prince of Mirkwood, but does offer an explanation for Legolas’s mental state during the Quest of the Ring.

I plan on eventually writing a separate post discussing Legolas’s mental health (which logically took a hit after everything his family and kingdom had suffered), but being around Hobbits, and in such close quarters, was a bittersweet experience for him.

Because his brother Gelir had a special closeness and bond with Hobbits, just seeing Frodo, Sam, Pippin, and Merry reminded Legolas of him. Gelir, though still alive as far as they knew, was estranged from the family at the time of the Quest of the Ring, and he and Legolas had parted on ill terms.

Observing the Hobbits in their shenanigans also caused Legolas to remember all his brothers, and the joyful times they shared when their family was complete.

Distancing himself a little from the Hobbits (but not treating them coldly or badly in any way), was simply Legolas’s method of coping with his complicated emotions.

In the SotWK AU, Legolas most certainly demonstrated a great deal of care and affection for the four Hobbits in his own ways.

For more Thranduil/Mirkwood headcanons: SotWK HC Masterlist

Elves HC Tag List: @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @achromaticerebus @aduialel @asianbutnotjapanese @auttumnsayshi @blueberryrock @conversacomsmaug @elan-ho-detto-elan-15 @entishramblings @freshalmondpandadonut @friendofthefellowshipsnerdblog @glassgulls @heilith @heranintomyknife23times @ladyweaslette @laneynoir @lathalea @lemonivall @LiliDurin @quickslvxrr @ratsys @scyllas-revenge @stormchaser819 @talkdifferently6 @tamryniel @tamurilofrivendell

Other useful links:

Introduction to SotWK

Fanfiction Masterlist

Fanfiction Request Guidelines

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angryushankas · 4 months

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Sleeping Beauty - Kyman SoT AU

Before they are even born, Prince Kyle of the Elven Kingdom and Prince Eric of Kupa Keep are set to be married to unite both their kingdoms. But the day Kyle is born, he gets a visit by a very powerful wizard: Eric’s older brother Scott, who’s angry that he won’t get the crown because his father married another woman.

Scott gives Kyle a curse: whenever he gets his first kiss, he will die.

The king and queen of the Elves blame the royals of Kupa Keep because the king is Scott’s father. This reignites the flame of a centuries-old conflict, and very quickly they return to being the enemies they once were.

After trying for a long time to take away Kyle’s curse, a fairy manages to weaken it, but not remove it completely. So instead of dying, Kyle’s first kiss would put him in a deep sleep, only to be awakened by a selfless act of true love. Kyle’s parents teach him that he should never kiss anyone. Ever. Their reasons don’t seem to make sense and vary constantly, but Kyle is a well-behaved child so he does as he’s told. Because of this, he grows up afraid of intimacy, never letting himself get too close to anyone.

Kyle and Eric know of each other, but they’ve never met. Kyle hears awful stories about Kupa Keep and their narcissistic, egotistical prince. He finds himself hating him, even though he has no proof of all the things people tell him. He just knows Kupa Keep is bad, and everyone there is, too.

By the time Kyle’s 18, he has never fallen in love. But that hasn’t stopped him from daydreaming: he still doesn’t know why he can’t kiss anyone, but he wishes he could someday marry a prince to rule with. He sings and dances with forest animals who have come to be some of his closest friends. One day, he finds a cape and a hat with a yellow star on it on the ground next to a tree; he laughs and dresses up a raccoon so he can dance with him as if he was a prince, while birds fly around them.

That cape and hat belong to Eric, who got jumped by a couple of thieves after he infiltrated the Elven Kingdom in the search for his older brother. His father told him of Scott’s existence right before he died. Eric doesn’t know about the curse; all he knows is that Scott is much more knowledgeable than him, and now that he’s supposed to take the crown he wants to learn from him to become the most powerful king that’s ever been.

To his surprise, he finds Kyle with his clothes, singing a silly love song. He recognizes who he is, and because he finds the situation so ridiculous, he decides to tease him and join in the singing and dancing, to Kyle’s disgust.

They really dislike each other at first, particularly Kyle, when he sees first-hand how bigoted Eric is and how superior he thinks he is. Nevertheless, Kyle decides to help Eric on his quest because he’s in a bit of a rebellious phase and wants to get away from his parents.

Even though they start off on the wrong foot, and even though they argue and fight all the time, they can’t help being drawn to each other, discovering things they have in common, learning new magic tricks from each other and even finding themselves having deep conversations about their lives and expectations. Slowly, Kyle realizes he’s starting to fall for Eric. And Eric is falling too.

On a few occasions Eric tries leaning in, wanting to kiss Kyle, but the prince moves away and plays dumb. Eric becomes frustrated, and eventually confronts him because he knows he’s not imagining things, and he’s convinced it’s reciprocated. Kyle ends up admitting that he likes him too, but he’s afraid of getting close. Eric calms him down, lets him know that it’s okay, and Kyle decides that maybe it’s worth it.

They kiss, and it’s wonderful. Kyle’s never been happier. Eric grins, and as he caresses Kyle’s cheek with his thumb, Kyle begins to feel dizzy. Eric’s smile falters, and he starts asking what’s wrong. Suddenly, Kyle faints and doesn’t wake up again.

Eric’s heart breaks. He doesn’t know what to do. In a moment of desperation, and knowing the royals of the Elven Kingdom can’t find out he was involved, he takes Kyle’s body to a nearby village without being seen and leaves him there.

In the hopes that his brother would know what to do, he continues his search for him. When he finds him, he’s met with the realization that Scott is even more self-centered than himself. He decides to ignore this at first, and begs him to help Kyle. But Scott only laughs at him, and before Eric can even ask, he tells him about the curse.

Eric is in shock. Things start to make sense, why he was despised by the Elven Kingdom, why Kyle didn’t want to admit his feelings, and why Scott was an outcast. Scott, who doesn’t know that the curse is actually weaker now, makes fun of Eric and tells him that he’s responsible for Kyle’s passing.

Overwhelmed by grief, Eric fights him to death and wins. Before Scott dies, he tells Eric that he can take his life and the crown, but he’ll never get his little prince back.

Even though he survived, he feels defeated. Eric blames himself for not listening to Kyle’s worries and convincing him to give in. He decides to visit the Elven Kingdom once again in disguise, so he can see Kyle one last time and say goodbye.

He finds out Kyle is in a tower and that he’s not dead, but he’s asleep and nothing will wake him up.

Eric climbs the tower at night so nobody will see him, and kneels beside Kyle’s bed. He takes Kyle’s hands in his own and starts apologizing. He tells him that he’s sorry, that it’s all his fault and he should’ve listened; that he’s never regretted anything more in his life. That he’s in love with Kyle and he wanted them to be kings together, but now that he’s not with him, he’d rather give up the crown. He doesn’t want fortune, or power, or anything if it’s not with Kyle by his side. He kisses Kyle’s lips and then lays his head on his chest, weeping.

Suddenly, he hears a little sound coming from Kyle. He backs away only to find that Kyle has woken up. All he remembers is their kiss, and he doesn’t know where he is. Eric is still holding his hands, and now he’s crying but out of joy. He grabs Kyle’s face and starts peppering him with kisses, telling him he loves him, and asking him to marry him. He tells him he doesn’t want to be king and he’d like for Kyle to join him in a simple, quiet life. Kyle, who’s been under pressure and under surveillance his whole life, is quick to say yes and accept his embrace.

Kyle’s parents have a hard time accepting their son won’t be king, but they’re so happy that he’s alive that they eventually come to terms with it, knowing their younger son will take the crown in the future. As for Kupa Keep, Eric proposes a new leader is elected by the people instead. His mother, the queen, agrees, and soon Kenny, a well-beloved princess, is chosen to be their next ruler, and she’ll be allowed to do so without being married.

Eric and Kyle have a small wedding ceremony and move to a little cottage in the woods. They kiss every chance they get, not wanting to waste any.

And they’ll live happily ever after.

The End.

#i needed context for my drawings what can i say #this is dumb sorry #had to get it out #iiiii knooooow youuuu i walked with you oooonce upooon a dreaaam #kyman #my art #technically that tag is for drawings but whatever #OP #sp kyman #stick of truth

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steddieunderdogfics · 2 months

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for the omegaverse fic recs weekend - among the leaves sae green by StarsHideYourFires

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/51561370/chapters/130320499)

its sort of a mix of fantasy/fairy/folk tale and its so good, I was totally hooked on it! I can't wait to reread it and I feel like it needs more love for sure!

among the leaves sae green by StarsHideYourFires

@sweaty-peaches

Rating: Explicit

37,909 words, 10/10 chapters

Archive Warning: No Warnings

Tags: Omega Verse, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Eddie Munson, Omega Steve Harrington, Dark Fairy Tale Elements, Inspired by Tam Lin, Fae & Fairies, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Handfasting, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Pregnancy, Human Sacrifice, Steve Harrington Has Good Parents, for once, Steddie Big Bang 2023 (Stranger Things), Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Knotting

Summary:

Hawkins is a village in the woods. Everyone knows to be careful of wolves. To steer clear of fairy rings and elves’ trees, to carry cold iron or an offering of bread on forest paths. But in Hawkins there are tales of darker creatures. The devil is in their woods. He controls great faceless demons, eight feet tall, and hungry for blood. Grasping beasts with horrifying maws that hunt in packs and steal livestock. Monsters to frighten children and explain the rituals that drive community life. Every year, a sacrifice is made to the old gods. A sacrifice for prosperity, but also protection. No one is to leave the village after sundown. Always wear a protective amulet when in the forest. All is well in Hawkins. The rituals keep them safe. Until young Will Byers goes missing. Barbara Holland, next. Kindly tinker Bob Newby is found dead, chest ripped open on the forest edge. A Tam Lin-inspired Dark Fairytale Omegaverse AU Work #089 in the Steddie Big Bang

Thanks for the rec!

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

#steddie #steddie fic recs #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #theme weekend #omegaverse #a/b/o dynamics #alpha eddie munson #omega steve harrington #rated e

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echantedtoon · 22 days

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Ocean Deep Ch1 Premise

In a world where inhuman and human creatures lives side by side, sometimes it was difficult to navigate where things were. So there was rules EVERY human followed. Don't engage. If you left them alone then they almost always left you alone... Unfortunately it's difficult when a whole pod happens to be under the impression that you belong to them.

IMPORTANT WORLD INFO:

This is set in a fantasy world with very little tech. Think Howl's Moving Castle kinda tech world. Also more Bride concept cuz I like it.

This is heavily inspired by @firelillys on Tumblr merfolk au. Please support all artists linked/mentioned here with their own works! I'll be providing important info for our mer cast and leave links for a better image of what they look like. I wanted to pick pretty fish for them all so some of the original fish ideas were scrapped from the first drabble.

KYOJURO:

Kyojuro would be a lionfish such as the one drawn by @yuki2sksksk on Tumblr linked below.

TENGEN:

Tengen would be a white butterfly koi fish and would look like the linked post below except less eel and more butterfly koi also below.

Merman Tengen (minus the eel like features)

https://x.com/littlegao_gao/status/1527621514123681793

his tail would be more like this instead

https://images.app.goo.gl/4Y3V2LkbRWKEua5v9

HINATSURU:

Hinatsura would have a tail that starts out red then fade to pink and would have sorta spotted like patterned semi flowing fins being a Strawberry Peacock mer.

MAKIO:

Makio would have an orange-gold tail with flowing fins being a Golden Dragon Koi mer.

SUMA:

Suma would have a blue tail with more ruffled fins compared to everyone else being a (all blue) Halfmoon Betta fish mer.

With this out of the way let's get onto the chapter.

In a world where inhuman and human creatures lived side by side, sometimes it was difficult to navigate where the danger lied. No where was safe.

The fae ruled the forests. Fairies and elves. Pixies and gnomes. Pans. Mischief makers. If not careful they'd whisk you away. Never to be seen again.

The dwarves and dragons claimed the mountains. Proud and strong. If insulted they'd be incredible does to crush you.

The skies were never safe either. Run amok with harpies. The plains ran with herds of centaur. The night plagued with vampires, werewolves, and demons. The day ran with fauns and tieflings and shape shifters. So many dangers and so many things to look out for. Especially when it came to courting a mate. As they say

"Beware the monsters who lurk and live amongst the world. Beware of those who seek courtship from maidens. Do not engage. If you ignore and leave them alone then they'll almost always leave you alone."

You must learn to learn their language and not be tricked by anything. Stay alert. Stay aware. Always stay vigilant.

And never let your unmarried daughters near them alone-

The sky was beautiful today. That's all really you could think to yourself. The fresh scent of flowers filling your sense of smell as dead flower petals was swept away with the dirt and dust. With each step you took the sounds of distant crying was heard. F/c eyes only stared at the floor where bristles met the ground and pushed them all away... Eventually you did spare a look briefly over your shoulder and felt your heart sink.

The Kocho family stood there. Or..what was left of the family.

The man hugged his wife tightly to his chest as she sobbed uncontrollably into his shirt. It was the most recent travesty really. Two months ago their youngest daughter, Kanao, had gone down to the river just down the old dirt road and through the woods a bit, to gather more herbs which they sold alongside the medicines in their family shop but she hadn't returned for a few hours. Then when their two older daughters went to go look for her, they two never came back. Panicked, a group of men including Mr. Kocho and the girls' grandfathers had gone out on a wide man hunt searching deep into the nearby woods and combing the long beach nearby for any trace of the missing sisters. Nothing ever came up. No footprints or scraps of fabric. It's like they've never even existed! Some say that they were claimed by fairies. Others say a ghost spirited them away. One person whispered that a flock of harpies might've flown them away.

Whatever the case, they were gone and it's unlikely that they were coming back.

The parents had already accepted that their girls were probably not coming back and was here to make flower arrangements for a memorial service the family was hosting in their honor and memory. Your boss was standing in front of them holding a few sample petals for them to choose from. In the middle of their talk, Mrs. Kocho had burst into tears, so the older woman gave the couple a moment to process their own emotions.

This wasn't the first time a young girl disappeared into thin air.

When you were a little girl, your next door neighbor was a beautiful woman named Rei. Her pretty brown eyes and kind personality made her a favorite person to everyone. She loved going on night walks, but one night she didn't return from her walks. Her father moved his entire business three towns away a little after that. Another case was a girl your age who disappeared last year, Mitsuri. According to her brother, she ran into the woods to be alone after her fiance brutally broke up with her. As he went to find her, he saw her being carried away by a giant black and white naga, the boy had fled as fast as he could back but by then it was too late. Then later that same year, you heard rumors about a girl named Koyuki and her father disappearing from a boat ride near the river but since that didn't happen in your town, you didn't know if that one was true.

It wasn't always young women either. Sometimes it was young men that went missing. A famous case from up the mountains was the disappearance of Kagaya Ubuyashiki. The last anyone had seen of him was he was walking along a patch of birch trees. Witnesses said he was last seen speaking to a white haired woman before he vanished. People say she was a white birch spirit. Another famous case was Tokito. Again not in your town, but he was a lumberjack that often went into the mountains for wood but one day never returned.

Nevertheless it was both scary and tragic.

Which was why there was a few unspoken rules your parents always taught you before they passed away. Never go anywhere alone. Never trust mysteries strangers. ALWAYS carry protection with you. Never go out late at night. Stay away from deep woods. But above all else-

NEVER TRUST ANYONE WHO WASN'T HUMAN.

They were all bad and will try to trick you. Don't trust a single one. Do not engage. Like clockwork you've always taken them to heart. Always looking over your shoulder. Keeping your guard up. Keeping a dagger on you at all times. Never going out at night for any reason. You weren't gonna be carried away by some lovestruck creature! It helped a bit that you loved in the middle of town and rarely went into the woods for any reason.

"It's an excellent choice. These flowers are very beautiful. I'm sure your service will be beautiful." Your eyes finally turned away from the sight. Your sweeping resuming as your boss politely escorted the couple to the door. "Don't worry about the delivery. It's on the house. ...You both have my up most condolences." She bowed one last time to the retreating couple.

A sigh escaping from your lips. "It happened again..Why does this happen so much?"

"Because there are creatures who have become so fascinated by the easy prey of our kind. A human is seen as a trophy of sorts. A thing to show off what you have but others can't have..." The old woman slowly closed the door. "We must remember that as humans, there are those who will hunt us."...Old black eyes turned to yours. "You're a young, beautiful woman. Possibly the most beautiful woman in town now. I wouldn't forget to be careful during these times."

"Don't worry. I'm not allowing myself to be trapped by anything."

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lynaferns · 11 months

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Están chiquitos.

If you are wondering how they got pants if they have nobody to teach them, they learned a way of making fabric out of wood :)

This is a thing btw, it's called bark cloth

Another youtube video about bark cloth

The same as the first video but in spanish

#my art #drawing #digital art #sketch #concept #elves of the forest au #forest elves au #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #dac au #elf sun #elf moon

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certainsaturn · 15 days

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Real Madrid youngsters HP! AU

Vini Jr. in HP! au who tends to get into fights. Always invited to parties (especially after his quidditch team lost). Plays as a seeker in the team. Always sneaking out after curfew just to slack around. Only got caught one time by Filch because the portraits snitched. He ran away from punishment(which is to accompany Hagrid into the Forbidden Forest) and hid in the girls bathroom where he met Moaning Myrtle for the first time. She gave him the ick with all the giggling and pestering questions so he just went back to Hagrid. Secretly likes Divination. He only took it because Rodrygo asks him to. Will never admit it out loud. He can’t say no to his good friend. He met Rodrygo on the train during their first enrolment into Hogwarts. He ate a lot of liquorice wands and puked on some random girl. Rodrygo helped him out. Became friends with him eversince.

Rodrygo in HP! au is very kind towards the professors. He dislikes Snape teaching methods though. Herbology is his favorite subject. A lot of 1st years admires him. When Vini causes trouble he will always have to pull him out. He respects the house elves and will personally go the kitchens to thank them for the wonderful meal. During his first year where he has to handle Mandrakes, he is the only one abled to do the steps properly. During Charms he is partnered up with Jude and Vini. Got his arm broken because Jude used Wingardium Laviosa on him and made him fall from the ceiling, unintentionally. Forgave Jude and became friends with him cause he don't hold grudges. (He is aware that Jude is well known so he'll just use the advantage to be friends with him). When it comes to dueling he is one of the best probably after Aurelien. Has wide knowledge on hexes and jinxes. Even poltergeist don't want to mess with him.

Aurelien Tchouameni in HP! au is a moozologist(?) wannabe. He loves his dog so much he sneaks him to school during his 4th year. Got caught by Ms. Norris after 2 days. Despises Snape. Top student in his classes. A beater in the quidditch team. Begs Hagrid to give him 1 to 1 lessons on Care of Magical Creatures so he can be one step ahead of everyone else. People call him crazy for wanting to train a Zouwu(?). Destroyed his Nimbus 2000 which he bought using his own money when he went on a solo adventure at 4th year to find Dragons. He didn't think he'll find one...but he did and it ended terribly. Sneaks around at night with the gang and deliberately get caught so they all can attend the lesson. The gang gave him silent treatment for not telling them about this earlier but they all end up liking it after a while. Met Newt Scamander once and got his book signed and has bragged to everyone about it. He talks a lot and do analysis on people that he wants to be friends with. He often get discounts when going to shops at Diagon Alley and Hogsmade.

Jude Bellingham in HP! au is Hogwarts’s heartthrob. In his 6th year he got almost got spiked with a love potion. If it wasn’t for Aurelien to stop him from drinking the drink. Transfiguration is his biggest enemy. He learned to be an animagus and ended up getting a badger as his animagus. Hates the whole subject for that. Got hundreds of love letters and items laced with love potions or jinxed sent to him daily. An ace student in DADA, so he has no problems in handling those items. Talks loudly when he gets excited (Snape overhears him everytime and will smack his head). The fat friar will hold him long enough from entering the dorms to flirt with him. Crashes in other houses dorms because of this. Failing herbology and even Rodrygo can't help him. Wants to be an Auror after he graduates. But he is unsure now because he doesn't want to continue taking potions after O.W.L.s

Eduardo Camavinga in HP! au is the friendliest guy in Hogwarts. McGonagall's favorite student despite being a troublemaker. The potraits love it when he walks by talking loudly because his stories are all interesting to them. He is clumsy at potions, always got the ingredients mixed up. But his best friend Aurelien is there to help him. Caused the school to flood one time after using the wrong jinx. McGonagall punished him to clean the owlery without the use of magic. Found the room of requirement when he was running away from Filch after harmlessly pranking him. He thinks its a prank and got scared so he never go near that corridor again. Surprisingly got asked out to the yule ball from the Beauxbaton girls. Quidditch commentator. Very biased with his team too. His boggart is his little brother getting hurt from his pranks. The advantage of being McGonagall's favorite has turned him into a Transfiguration facilitator to the group. He once cloned himself to 12s of him...just to mess around with people. The group respects him for that.

i hope yall like this. im pretty satisfied with myself after writing this. the headcanons came from my pure imagination. also got inspired by @g-xix 's amp X harry potter headcanons so i decided to make my own for the boys.

©certainsaturn2024

#TAAOTRMAY #certsat writes #hp au #aurelien tchouameni #jude bellingham #eduardo camavinga #vinicius junior #rodrygo goes #real madrid #real madrid headcanons #real madrid imagines #real madrid blurbs #jude bellingham x reader #aurelien tchouameni x reader #jude bellingham imagines

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sakuraryomen01 · 1 year

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The Wild Tiger Twins /Suku + Yuji x fem!reader/ .o1 ♡

warning: as the title suggests; tiger twins! . fantasy au . omega verse style (adding warning since this had to deal with heat/rut for the boys) . short story/fanfiction .

reader: fem! reader

plot: the life of a barmaid wasn't enough for you, it was boring and tiresome. wanting something better for yourself was almost like a dream before you come across this flyer. creatures spotted near the village with a reward big enough to allow you a better life. following your life for a scribe, you venture out beyond the wall.. not getting what you expected..

words: 2.374k

a/n: wanted to write something for my favorite duo so imma do this and hope you enjoy it! I also wanted to dabble in another writing style to see if it'd end up good too. So if it's a little stranger than my normal style, I apologize lol ♡

Growing up fearing the woods beyond the cities' borders, of all the creatures and the forest folk that dwells within the confines of darkness was like second nature. Believing all the stories and tales of the Peacekeepers, Elves, dwarfs, and Wizards.

That the darkness behind the walls was to not be trusted.

The little towns that populated themselves were almost all alone, stranded to fend for themselves as they traded goods and services with their closest neighbors.

Their King, one of the original Peacekeepers of the realm and great-great-great grandfather of the current ruler, had built the walls to keep them safe from the monsters that lurked inside the woods.

It was like his gratitude in physical form for all that bowed to him and worked for him.

Before the wall was built, the towns folk would be raided by wild animals and creatures that were almost freakish. Stories and legends of dragons and orcs that threatened the towns for their gold and food. Great wars were fought between the Elves and humans for dominance of the lands, demons crawling throughout the spaces of each for souls to harvest. The main city alone where the King lived with his family and more higher ranks mortals was an old battle ground that was claimed by humans.

Evidence of these terrible tragedies were written on the walls of each town, the additional villages surrounding them being the only ones to see the scars that they carried.

Claw marks and burns, large dents and newer rock being placed after each attack. While it had been about a few years, there was little to no sign of the forest folk. Only small attacks of the shipments from town to town, the little paths that lead through them being jumped for their food every so often.

But that was pretty much it. The only signs that something still populated the forest was the small attacks.

It was like living in a fairytale, but it was real. For you at least.

Having a fascination for life beyond the borders of the kingdom was like asking for your own death. No one but the Kings and Queens of the kingdoms and the knights or scribes were allowed to venture into the woods. To go and negotiate with their neighboring utopias to maintain the peace and tranquility of the world.

Something a little barmaid like you couldn't do.

You were stuck in your little world, wiping tables and filling orders for local knights and men that asked for a pint of ale. Getting up everyday from your small cottage that was housing your little brother and parents. Living your plain little life while your brother was training to become one of the knights, hoping to get transferred to the King's Court after he's become stronger.

It was like your family's little world of perfection and peace.

You were able to read and write, looked up to by the little ones of your former schooling house. The girls admired your talents while the boys aspired to be like your brother. Strong and smart, you and your brother were. A perfect duo for your mother and father.

Your brother, Flynt, was one of the lower ranked knights at this point in his life. Patiently waiting for his letter to transfer, to get away from this small town to go out and fight real wars and monsters.

Not continuously save your job from bar fights.

"This is the last time, Y/n," He muttered, wiping his hands off on his shirt. A few girls swooning over your brothers looks in the background, having just watched him put two drunkards out on their asses.

Again.

"I'm serious, I can't have any more marks. My captain is already considering dropping my transfer."

"I'm sorry, Flynt," You respond, cleaning up the mess on the ground in front of the bar. "How 'bout a free pint on the house?"

"Heh, make that two." Your brother wiggled two fingers in the air while you chuckled and went behind the counter.

The last thing you wanted to do was ruin your brother's dreams. He had worked so hard and giving him more marks on his record was something that could easily destroy all his progress.

You picked up two large cups, heavy and equal in weight, and popped one of the tabs for your cheapest ale there. Despite you and Flynt being able to pay for exquisite wines and meals, you both liked the cheap stuff. That type of food was special for you both, and the flavors of the town's food was all you needed. Greasy, and sloppy.

"Thanks," Your brother said after you pushed his pints down the bar towards him. A loud clap as the cups hit his hand and he lifted one to his lips, taking a large gulp before taking a breath.

"How's your internship thing going?" Parking yourself near your sibling, resting your arms on the counter and letting your chin hang off of your fist. "Mum told me you were going to get a higher placement in the ranks next week. That's amazing!"

Flynt shrugged, wiping his mouth of the booze and sighing. "For someone that wants to just work for the Guild, sure. I want to be in the front lines."

You press your lips together and slap your brother's wrist with a click of your tongue. "Hey, just be happy! You'll be getting your transfer letter anyways, and having a higher rank now would be easier to place you in the army."

Remaining silent, Flynt looking over at you with a disbelieving look. But he nodded and continuing to drink his alcohol, ordering a small meal for himself while you got back to work.

That was your life so far.

Work. Family. Sleep.

A constant loop with endless repeats of themselves. Every once in a while something will come up that would spark a celebration. Once it was over though, you went back to doing your daily routine. It was dull, boring; nothing like you wanted it to be.

You wanted excitement, adventure. You wanted Flynt's life.

You wanted to proudly say you got to see the capital and visit the great lord of your country. To become a scribe for your King and serve him like a proper lady.

But you didn't. You were a simple barmaid.

One that was ready to settle down and get married maybe.

While that sounded all nice and dandy, it didn't sound all that fun. Finding someone in your village instead of being able to travel around for it was almost just as annoying as your current predicament. No stories to tell your future children how you met your husband, or any tales to tell for bedtime.

You didn't want to be boring.

Going home like normal that day, gathering your things and saying goodbye to your coworkers. Their smiles and kind words made you return the gestures before exiting the small watering hole for the townsfolk. You rummaged through your small bag at your hip, checking to see if you got all the little bits of your uniform before seeing something run by quickly in your peripheral vision.

It was dark out so whatever it was could've been a small cat or dog that wandered the alleys between the homes.

Your mind wasn't wandering much so you shrugged it off and looked back down at your bag before hearing something fall over. It sounded like one of the shipments from a few days ago to the tavern. Apples and other fruits were waiting to be put away so they ended up being left out while things were getting sorted out.

Maybe an animal knocked one of the carts over?

You sigh, closing your bag and heading over to the back of the building. Looking around for any culprit to blame, seeing no one in the dark alleyway and turning your attention to the fallen fruits. Kneeling to the ground and starting to gather some of them while the quiet chirping of crickets and other bugs became background noise.

It had been a while since something like this had happened, so you wondered if it was one of your coworkers sorting through the items that might've been to blame. Thinking of different reasons that the supplies were pushed over, your hand landed on a flier that had been dropped near the carts. You assumed it was advertisements for the tavern but it wasn't that.

On the top in bold ink was "Warning" and a subtitle saying 'creature spotted. rewards offered by the Guild!'

"..Creature?" You mumbled to yourself, looking over the yellowed paper and standing. Letting a few apples that sat in your lap fall to the ground and roll on the cobblestone.

The further you read, you came across a crude drawing of what appeared to be animal people. You couldn't quite tell what they were, seeing as it was just a shadowed outline someone doddled for reference. Scanning the ink, a shiver running up your spine at the information and looking at the reward offered.

It was enough to move out of town, to the capital.

It makes you want to go out and look for these creatures, to get that money and move away to the city. You'll be able to become a scribe, and have a life that was better than here. A smile lifted your lips as you finished cleaning up and putting the paper in your pouch.

Quickly fixing yourself and heading home, excited for whatever the future may hold. The promise for a better life outside of the walls was enough motivation for you. You imagined the place you'll be able to hold once you're allowed a little freedom. To walk the streets of the kingdom and scribble notes into a small journal, to carry a duty with you while you earned respect from colleagues.

Once home, you ran upstairs and past your mother and father whom were cooking that night's supper. "Ah, Y/n! Where are you—?"

"Going to get ready! Bye!" You said quickly, leaving them in stunned silence as your stomps up the steps grew quiet.

"..Must've had a good day?" Your father said, a confused look on his face as he glanced at his wife. "Nevermind her. Let's finish supper, darling."

You sat in your room, looking through a few books and pulling one from the shelf. Flipping through a few pages and looking at designs for the King's scribes. Their uniforms were based on the color of emeralds, white lacing and stripes along the main body with some rhinestones across the collar. There was a small, silver choker that was also a part of the uniform, a small little ruby in the middle or sapphire to tell what your position in the Order was.

This was something you looked at for years. Dreaming of wearing it one day for so long. Who knew it was so close?

All that waiting might be able to pay off soon.

"Get out of your room, it's time for dinner!" The pounding on the door surprising you, the voice of your little brother on the other side makes you grunt and stand.

"Ughh.. Fine, I'll be out in a minute!"

There was silence in return, so you took a few moments to stare at the picture for a little longer. The life of a scribe, it was so close.

One last shiver of inspiration flowed through your body as you closed the book and stood to put it up. Changing from your day's dirty clothes and unpinning your hair from its bun. Dressing in a nightgown and brushing the knots and curls from your hair. You quickly completed the task and ran down to dinner, seeing your brother already in his nightwear too.

He sent you a small smirk, looking over your clothes. "That's a bit childish, no?"

"Nightgowns are perfectly normal, uggo," You retorted, taking your seat at the table while your mother brought the food around.

Flynt laughed at this, sitting next to your father and continuing to sneer at you. The childish banter makes your parents giggle to themselves. "So, how was your day?"

"Y/n had another bar fight while I was visiting," Flynt said, starting to eat his meal and looking at your dad. Seeing an eye roll as his gaze shifted to you.

"Again?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure it was the same guys too."

"Y/n, you should look for a different job if that's the case," Your mother interjected, a stern tone to her voice as she shared a look with your father. "I don't want you to end up getting hurt over some bar fight. You'll be fired or your brother will be removed from the Guild over it!"

You sighed, this is how it always ended up.

Your mother started worrying for your safety, urging you to quit and get a better job. Your father soon joined and grumbled about how uncivilized the new generation was ending up. Another loop makes its way into your path to calm that excitement from earlier. Their voices began to buzz into the background, becoming soft chatter while your thoughts swirled around what to do.

Should you just get a sick day to go explore? How could you even get out to the walls? It'd take a while to get there.

As your thoughts continued to swirl, your mother brought in your favorite dessert. Giving small plates to everyone to split between your family before sitting and enjoying the sweet treat. Mindlessly eating the dish, your eyes began to get heavy with sleep.

Your body hits you with tiredness like any other day, forcing you to excuse yourself early to get to bed and wake up the next morning. As your family continued to chat away about your brother's achievements, you made your way up the stairs and quickly climbed into your bed.

The plush pillow was fresh and clean along with the sheets and blankets. Smelling like lavender and other assorted wildflowers, you nuzzled into your little nest and peacefully whisked off to sleep. Dreaming about the life you want to live, walking around the capital and sorting documents for the King.

---

a/n: links will be provided below to the future chapters/parts of this mini story. it's going to be like headcanons too, eventually. i hope you guys enjoy it while i'm working on the next chapter of Valentino

|| part 1 . part 2 . part 3 . part 4 . part 5

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animatorweirdo · 7 months

Text

How to kidnap yourself a dark lord husband?

(The last request. This is for the Sauron x reader being a Hades and Persephone imagine. I'm sorry if this was not all you expected, but I was struggling with ideas and with the help of a friend, turned this into a crack fic. I might make a second part since this ended up being long. I hope you like it. )

Requested by Anon

Hi AnimatorWeirdo! Sending you a request for Mairon x daughter of Feanor!reader in a Persephone x Hades AU? (Like the anon requested a little bit ago? Thank you!

Warnings: Reader is done with her family, really wants a puppy, intensely flirts with Sauron, proposes marriage, and then kidnaps him from his fortress.

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You: *Travelling in the darkness of Beleriand*

You: Okay. Is this the place to find other people*

*Before*

You: *Slowly losing her patience*

Maedhros: (Name), you should consider going out more. It will do good for you.

You: Alright *Goes outside*

You: *Sits in the garden*

Maglor: *Sings very loudly that the birds of the garden fly away, disrupting your peacetime*

You: *Growl and leaves the house*

You: *Check around the forest*

Celegorm: Woohoo! *Rides past her with Huan, splashing mud on you*

You: Fuck! *Leaves the for forest*

You: *Arrive at a quiet lake*

Caranthir: *Appears in the shade doing embroidery or whatever he did in his free time*

You: Ah! Where did you come from?!

Caranthir: I've been here all this time.

You: Oh, okay. What are you doing?

Carathir: Embroidery.

You: Cool. Can I try?

Caranthir: No. I don't want you to ruin my things.

You: *silence*

You: Fine. Goodbye! *Walks away*

You: *Comes to a city to check around stalls and shops*

Curufin: *Bangs loudly his hammer in his workshop, startling you*

You: * You stare as he works, but decide to leave, not considering interacting with him*

You: *You come home*

You: *You sigh in relief when you hear the house is quiet, which means silence and peace*

You: *Step on a trap rope*

You: *Get splashed by a bucket of water*

You: *Scream*

Ambarussa: *Laughs at you*

You: *Growling with rage*

You: Naneth! Can I move with Grandpa and other cousins?

Nerdanel: *Deeply focused on her work* Ask your father.

You: Atar! Can I move with Grandpa and other cousins?!

Feanor: *Focusing on his work* No!

You: Please! I can't handle seeing my brothers everywhere! I just want one week of peace!

Feanor: As I said. No.

You: THATS IT!

You: I AM SO DONE WITH ALL OF YOU! *Secretly leaves Aman and wanders into Beleriand without telling anybody*

*Now*

You: *Stare at the dark fortress filled with strange creatures*

You: *Shrugs* Looks decent enough.

*Inside*

Sauron: *Minding his own business*

You: *Appear and stare at him*

You: *Checks him out because he's quite good-looking*

Sauron: *Groans frustrated with a project*

You: You should probably consider adding this to make it work. *Points at something*

Sauron: *Nearly jumps off from his chair* Where the hell did you come from, elf?

You: I walked in.

Sauron: You... just walked in? Without getting captured by the guards?

You: *Nods* I mean, they were on their break, and I didn't want to disturb them.

Sauron: Elf, do you even know who I am?

You: *Looks at him and his height*

You: Really tall?

Sauron: No! I am Sauron! Lord Melkor's greatest servant and the lord of this fortress!

You: .... okay.

Sauron: You... you're not even half phased or scared? I am technically a horror story to the local elves.

You: *giggles* you're funny. I saw you have some troubles with this one thing: I know how to fix it, let me show you.

You: *Began showing him how to fix the problem*

Sauron: *just lets you because it was working and he didn't know what to do else*

*1 Day later*

Sauron:*ordering orcs around*

You: *squealing loudly* that it startled most of the orcs*

You: Mairon? Can I keep him? *Holding a werewolf puppy*

Sauron: What? No! That's one of my werewolves. I can't let you keep him and who allowed you to call me by my original name?

You: Please! My father still doesn't allow me to adopt a dog, and I'm a full-grown adult, and besides, you have hundreds of werewolves. You can afford to give one to me!

Sauron: As I said. No!

You: *Leans in closer, fluttering your eyelashes* Please, my lord. Give this puppy to me.

Sauron: Are you seriously trying to put up a seductive act just to adopt a puppy?

You: *Grins* Is it working?

Sauron: *Sighs* Fine. If you really want him.

You: *Squeals again in happiness* Thank you! I'm gonna name him Carna because his coat reminds me of your red hair.

Sauron: You do know, he's gonna grow up into a werewolf, right? You don't find that even slightly abnormal or disturbing?

You: No. Not at all. He's my baby now. I'm gonna love him even when he's grown up.

Carna: *Whines happily, licking your face*

You: *Giggles while hugging him*

Sauron: *Muttering under his breath while staring at you with slightly reddish cheeks and ears because he finds the sight adorable* Oh shit.

*8 Day*

You: Fuck!

Sauron: *Startled* What? What's going on?

You: My family just started noticing my disappearance and knows I'm here. They now claim you kidnapped me or something.

Sauron: And what are you planning to deal with that?

You: Unless you want to face the drama of my family. I should probably go there to explain what's really going on between you and me. And trust me, you do not want to face my family drama.

Sauron: Fine. Go. I do not think I can stop you even if I want to.

You: Alright. I will be back as soon as possible. *leaves the fortress*

Sauron: Finally, some peace and quiet.

*12 Day*

Sauron: *dealing with deep silence and not being used to it because he had gotten used to hearing your voice most of the time*

Orc: Sire. Is something bothering you?

Sauron: Fuck... I actually miss her and her obnoxious voice.

Orc: *Confusion*

*15 Day*

You: I'm back!

Sauron: Finally! What took you so long?!

You: My family. Why? Did you miss me?

Sauron: *Scoffs* No.

Random balrog: *Pops out of nowhere* Yes, he did! He's been ten times more foul when you were away! He even created wolves to remember you since you liked his werewolves so much.

You: Aww! You did!

Sauron: *Screaming at the balrog* Shut up!

You: Oh, don't be mad. I missed you too.

Sauron: *looks at you confused* really?

You: *Smiles* Yeah. I like how calm and collected you are. You don't bring too much drama in the house. You're creative with your work and respect my boundaries, which my family rarely does. And the best part— you have dogs.

Sauron: Wolves, technically.

You: It doesn't matter. If it's fluffy and cute, and I can hug it, then that's all that matters. And I do like a certain amount of wildness in them.

Sauron: You are a very strange elf, you know that? Are you possibly the oddball in your family?

You: Maybe. I just like things slightly unordinary. Valinor is nice and all, but It can get really boring sometimes.

You: *Gets an idea*

You: I know how to get my family off our backs.

Sauron: And what's that?

You: *Graps his hands and looks at him with an intense look* Marry me!

Sauron: Huh?!

The whole fortress: Ooooohhh!

Sauron: *stutters for the first time in his life* No! Why?!

You: If we get married my family will finally stop bothering us. And besides, I think we make a good couple. We're both smart and pretty. We have dogs and if we get far in our relationship, we'll make beautiful children.

Sauron: *stunned *

The whole fortress: Come on, that's not a bad deal. Get some!

Sauron: *Collects himself quickly* Aren't you being a bit too bold with your proposal?

You: Is that a yes?

Sauron: I'm— uhh—

The random balrog: Hey! How about you two kiss already?!

Sauron: Shut it!

You: Great. So it's settled then?

Sauron: What?

You: Let's go to Valinor to break the news. Let's go!

Sauron: Hey! Wait a minute! *Screams as you take him away from the fortress*

#sauron x reader #sauron #sauron imagines #silmarillion x reader #silmarillion imagines #tolkien #silm fic #middle earth x reader #middle earth #middle earth imagines #feanor's daughter

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shhh-secret-time · 4 months

Text

Next request actually comes from AO3! I gotta admit, I was really excited about this one!

Warning: Dom/Sub dynamic, Sub!Kyle, Dom!Reader, Strong Language, Praise Kink?, NSFW

Pairing: High Fae King Kyle x F!Reader

Notes: So you noticed the Fae in there did you? So my roommate and I have an small AU where Kyle isn't just king of the elves, he's King of the Summer Court as well! Soooome of the stuff I used has a little D&D logic behind it, but you have to squint to really see it!

Art by: Leoncio Harmr - De Profundis Clamavi

Heavy boots echoed through the halls of the castle; the ivory floor polished to perfection carried the sound until it made its way to your room. You were laying in your shared chambers lounging on the bed dressed in fine silks, now the book you were reading a distant thought. Not that you were able to pay attention to it anyway. The peaceful and serene sounds of the rain outside your window didn't help any, neither did the fact the book was so incredibly boring.

With a hum you moved the sheets off your body pulling the beautiful white material away. Pulling the forest green robe off the chair next to you and onto your form, you made your way to the door. You didn't need to really open the door to know whose footsteps those were.

Your sweet husband, your darling partner, your most precious one. Kyle Broflovski, better known as the High Fae King of the Summer Court to the elves and the other Fae citizens. When you opened the chamber doors you could immediately feel how tense he was from just the doorway. It was like a wave of heat brushing off him and you could feel it on your skin.

"My love." Kyle's voice sounds so winded, like he's out of breath the moment he saw you.

You smile as his eyes roam over your body admiring your form and like a switch that raging fire turned to a gentle breeze, by his legs maple leaves began to pick up and swirl around him. There were many titles your husband held, but High Druid was the one he was the most proud of, his command over the elements was nothing to take lightly.

"My heart." You respond as you hold yourself high, gliding across the castle floor with grace.

Kyle raises his hand, dismissing the guards who were ordered to escort him. Once you reach him, he holds his hands out to gently take yours. Despite how gentle he tried to be; you could feel how tense he was even past the gorgeous, embroidered gloves he wore.

"My apologies, did I wake you?"

"No, I was waiting for you to come to bed. But something tells me that you weren't planning on retiring to our chambers anytime soon."

"Hm... it would be foolish to try and hide anything from you."

"Now when did my husband become so wise?" You joked softly, cupping his face with your hands. Smiling as he seemed to melt into your touch, the much taller man leaning down to bask in the soft affection.

"Perhaps you're finally starting to rub off on me." He whispered, pressing a warm kiss into the palm of your hand. His lips finding the wedding band, the silver band that bound your souls together.

You couldn't help but let out a gentle laugh, even after all these years being married to him, he found a way to make you blush. The day he asked you to be his Queen, to shoulder the burdens of an entire realm, to help him lead and carry him when he could not walk. Your pride in him made it easy, he was a wonderful man and right now he looked as if he were about to buckle under the weight. And you knew just the cure.

"Then allow me to continue your lesson towards being a wise man." Your voice was like the silks you wore, a cool splash of water against his raging fire. Taking him by the hand again, you lead him to the double doors of your shared room. "Now, what troubles you, my heart."

Kyle took a deep breath, his brows knitted together frustration written on his face. You knew that look all too well he was conflicted about you telling you how he felt but you'd be damned if you let that slide. All it took was a single look from you and for you to cross your arms under your chest, and he knew he was fighting a losing battle. He lets out the deep breath through his nose, the sound of his leather gloves creasing as flexes his fingers.

"I am not a child to be scrutinized."

"Did I say you were?" Perhaps you were playing with fire with that question, the way his jaw shift and his gaze darkens but if you feared fire, you would not be married to the man who embodied Summer itself.

"In fact, I believe I asked what troubles you. And correct me if I am wrong or if I step out of line my King, but you are in the presence of your wife? The very woman who swore an oath to the Kingdom and her people, and more importantly to help shoulder the burden of her husband." As you spoke, he watched you step towards him, each step felt like it was amplifying your words.

He felt the dynamic between the both of you shift, your body language speaking louder than the words spilling from your lips. Kyle looked down at you once more before closing his eyes. A silent request to take the reins and let him unburden himself. To let him just be. The very thought was enough to make his shoulders fall forward, giving you the non-verbal confirmation, you needed.

"It...is this war. It weights heavy on not only me but my men. Each battle we lose more, each fight chips away at their will. They look to me for answers, a solution to put this damned thing to rest! But I don't have the answers!" Kyle shouts as your hands cup his face once more, the wall he put up shattering at just a simple gesture. "I send my men to die over and over again, men who have families, men who I swore to protect! I'm not protecting them; I'm hiding behind them like a coward! I should be out there!"

As he continued you caressed his face, brushing the freckles that dusted his face under the pads of your thumb. The war between the Humans and Fae raged on longer than anyone thought it would, and now that the elves were involved it only added to the casualty count. It was no wonder your husband was coming to bed later and later, if at all. It was no wonder why there would be days you'd be lucky to even see him as he spent most of his time locked away in the council room. He was burning himself out, the High Druid of the Summer court fading away like dying embers.

"Hush... you are not a coward. Do not speak as if you do nothing. Our people see how hard you try."

"Do they? When I close my eyes all I can see are the faces of those I've lost. Of those that I let down." His voice cracks and so does your heart.

"The realm has already placed enough on your shoulders, do not place more on it. You don't need to carry this alone. I cannot tell you not to feel for those who have given their lives but do not take away their sacrifice by destroying yours. Worship the flame and tend to the ashes my sun." Your words, God your words were like coming up for air after being submerged under water for too long.

You call him your sun, but the light you shine on him fills him with a sense of belonging. Finally, his hands unclench from the tight fist he wasn't aware he had them in and find home on your hips. He pulls you into an embrace, one he hasn't had the luxury to have you in, in so long.

"My moon. My night sky."

"My sun. My light."

"Let me take some of that pain from you. Allow me to take care of you tonight. Will you let me?" You guide him towards the bed, sitting him down at the edge of the plush bed. You dip your head down stopping just inches from his lips, he feels your breath ghosting over his lips and suddenly his mouth goes all to dry. The smell of the wine you had earlier was just enough to make the tips of his pointed ears go red and his mind go fuzzy. "I need an answer my heart."

"Y... yes please." He knows better than to lean forward, to capture your lips in a searing kiss so he settles for a whisper.

"Then tonight you are not the High Druid of the elves, nor are you the King of the Summer Court. Behind this door and within these walls you are but my husband, a man with his heart to bare to me. Am I clear?"

Kyle could feel his face turning red at your command. What little willpower he had was used to not let his eyes flutter shut and immediately let himself melt. He responds with another shaky sigh. "Yes my Queen. I give you all I have and more."

"There's my good boy." Your voice fell to a hush as you finally, finally sealed your lips onto his.

Kyle felt your hands brushing into his hair, intertwining fingers through his curls. The feathery curls twist around your slender fingers parting as you began massaging his scalp. The golden branches that made up his crown fell back off his head and onto the bed behind him, but he couldn't care, not when your fingers felt so good. Each kiss lasting longer than the last, the sweet taste of grapes swirling between your tongues. It was only when you pulled away and giggled that he realized he let out a whimper.

"My~ you're whimpering from my kisses alone? I cannot wait to pull more of those delicious sounds from you." You purred in his ear and nipped at the sensitive flesh pulling a moan from him. "Remove your clothes for me~"

Such a simple demand, yet Kyle couldn't help the excitement as you finally gave him permission to rid himself of his clothes. His hands worked the complex material of his robes sliding it down his shoulders, the warmth from your bodies caressing the exposed skin. As he toed his boots off you stopped him by placing your hands on his shoulders, your finely done nails gently raking across his skin.

"Slowly now Kyle, we have all night." Your voice was like a leash making his body jerk to a stop.

Sliding his palms down his pants he looked up at you with such a pleading look begging you to do something. He needed to feel your skin on his, wanted you so carnally he was sure he was going to go mad. Each time your nails traced down his chest, his muscles would flex in response. Every little gesture had such an effect on him, yet he wouldn't dare ask you to stop.

"You're being very good for me tonight, I'm so very proud of you. You deserve your reward~" You whisper against his neck, trailing soft kisses down the skin.

You pulled your hands away to remove your own clothes, the silks pooling at your feet lying next to his. A small thrill rose up in you when Kyle's eyes widened, and his lips parted in awe. The beautiful corset that hugged your sides perfectly, digging into your skin in just a way that wasn't painful but made your body look so soft; the sunrise color pallet complimenting your eyes and hair.

"May I touch you, I need to feel you love." He asks because he knows better, knows better than to disappoint you, not when you've given him such a beautiful gift.

Smiling, you took his hands in yours guiding the calloused hands up to your hips. His thumbs pressing into the supple flesh, still in a trance. You weren't just his queen, you were a goddess, something to be worshipped. You could see it in his eyes, the pleading look evolved to desperation, and you knew he couldn't take much more.

"So pretty for me, my husband. My lover." Each praise was separated by a kiss as you pushed against his chest laying him back against the bed.

Your hands made quick work of his pants and the material that held his hardened cock, once freed from his constraints it bobbed and pressed against his stomach. Milky white pearls of pre-cum already leaking out of the red angry tip, leaking when you crawled over; him thighs parted enough to straddle his lap. He sucked in a breath, hitching in his throat when you took his hardened member in your hands.

Kyle threw his head back feeling your soft hands pull up against the sensitive flesh, tugging and smearing his cock with his own arousal. He didn't bother to muffle the moans you pulled from his throat, deep sounds filling your chambers. You smiled softly at how beautiful he looked under you. His face was flushed a deep red, making the freckles on his face pop, twisted in pleasure as you continued to work his shaft.

"O-Oak Father preserve me, my love please! I-I can't take much more!" He begs for a god as his cock twitches in your hands, his breathing picks up turning to erratic pants. Kyle could hear his heart pounding in his ears as the knot in his stomach began to pull taught.

"Not yet."

"M-my moon please I-"

"I said not yet" You lowered your face down towards his, pressing another kiss against his throat. Just as your hand squeezed the base of his cock your teeth sunk into his pale flesh. Sucking the patch of skin, you had to stop yourself from laughing when he bucked his hips against your hand and cried out. When you pulled away from the bruised love mark with a pop Kyle was sure he was seeing stars, making his eyes roll up to the back of his head.

You continued your assault down his chest, printing your teeth marks all over his skin, mapping it out with your tongue and the faded paint of your lipstick. From the corner of your eye, you watched his hand fist the sheets beneath him, nails digging into the mattress. With a playful purr you pulled up to admire your work, your husband looked like a piece of art. Painted so pretty beneath you.

"Keep your eyes on me. If you close them, I will stop." Your voice broke him from his daze, the fear that you would stop when he was so, so close snapped him to attention.

Gently you positioned yourself above his throbbing cock, lowering yourself down slowly taking him inch by inch. Even now as he slowly began to fill you up, you gaze down at him with such a passionate gaze; watching his chest heave up and down. Kyle's own eyes were blown out from lust, the orbs that usually held such peace and balance now glued to yours. And when you smiled down at him, his mind just went blank. Nothing else outside of these walls mattered but you.

"Oh~ you fill me so well Kyle." You finally let out a moan as you fully slid down his cock, your cunt wrapping around him. "Go ahead, touch me. Take what you need."

Finally. Fucking finally. His hands fly to your thighs to squeeze them, fingers sinking into the warm skin. His thrusts start out slow, dragging the length of his member in and out of you as if he was trying to memorize the feeling of your walls. Kyle pulled himself out of you until only the tip of his member remained around your hole and then slowly, he lowered you back down along his shaft. He needed more, had to have more. Sweat beginning to build up between the both of you, little beads of sweat tracing the outlines of your forms. Your own arousal making it easier for him to fuck up into you, the little thrusts turning into his arms wrapped around your waist trapping you against his chest.

Still, he doesn't break eye contact with you especially not when your hands grip his jaw and force his face up. The room echoed with the sounds of skin slapping against each other and both of your moans intertwined with one another. When your walls flutter and tighten around him he knows your close, he knows you're about to cum. Neither of you have to say anything, not when the sound of voice pitches. Now when you dig your nails into his flesh, adding onto the collection of marks you've left.

"K-Kyle cum in me. I want to cum with you~!" That was it. That was when Kyle saw a flash of white and suddenly his cock was pulsating inside of you. Letting out a chocked moan as he painted the inside of your walls with his thick cum. So much of pushed up into your cunt that it began spilling down his shaft and smeared across your thighs. He could feel your slick drip down and mix with his.

Pressing his palm down on the small of your back, he laid there with you on top of him basking in each other’s glow. As you both worked on coming down from your high, he rubbed circles on your back.

"Do you feel better?" You broke the silence with the simple little question.

"I do. Thank you my love, I don't know what I did to deserve you." He replies, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"You deserve to be happy Kyle. Deserve to be pampered."

"Greedy even?"

"Well, I would think so." You smile up at him as you press your cheek into his chest.

"Then I believe it was a beautiful queen that once said, 'We have all night'." He smirks down at you as he rolls the both of you over. You let out a little gasp when you feel his cock twitch back to life.

You only smirked back and wrapped your arms around his neck lazily throwing your arms over his shoulders. Your husband had that fire back, the dying embers now a roaring flame. The heat radiating from him was a different one now, full of life just as it should be.

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