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#GIVE IT UP FOR HOT REPTILE SUMMER!!!!!!!!!!!

azulock · 7 months

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Men who are heat sources, like a sports car engine, your very own furnace. No matter the weather, he always runs hot, with enough body warmth to spare. And spare he does. Touching him is like touching the outside of a working oven, it may not burn but the temperature change is clear - and that doesn't stop when he is asleep.

Unless you are running the ac, sharing a bed with him during summer is hell. He sweats through the night, and if you're under the covers he's gonna heat up the whole space. If you're cuddling you'll both wake up sweaty and hot, it's the price you pay for wanting skin contact with a car engine.

Now, during winter he is a blessing, warming up the room and keeping you safe from the cold touch outside the covers. He runs so hot he always sleeps without a shirt, no matter the season, so you'll always get the soft touch of his skin whenever you cuddle. And winter is perfect cuddling weather, the warmth of his body drawing you in like a siren call. You almost feel like a reptile, seeking the lifesaving touch of sunlight - and in a way, during those cold winter days, this car engine of a man is your own personal sun.

OLIVER, SHIDOU, KUNIGAMI, Nagi, Bachira, Kaiser, Sae, Gagamaru

Men who are heat sinks, hands and feet always cold no matter the weather. You touch him you are gonna be the one sharing your body heat with him, not the other way around. Unless put under intense physical strain he won't sweat, his body temperature won't rise, he'll always be feeling like he could use some warmth. One one hand it's good, he'll always be seeking your touch, on the other, sleeping with a body heat vampire can be kinda chilly.

He wasn't made for winter - clearly so. You either turn up the heating or you'll have cold feet touching you and icy hands wrapped over your skin. He may sleep in a shirt, but he'd rather you slept bare, so he could have more access to the warmth of your body when you embrace. And you will embrace, it's not an option, cuddling is mandatory to your reptile of a boyfriend - he seeks you like a lizard seeks a warm rock.

During summer, though, you are the one seeking his colder touch, letting his hands suck the overbearing heat from you. He doesn't mind, the weather isn't so cruel to him. He doesn't lose the reptile like need to seek your warmth and this time you are more than happy to give. You'll be wrapped around him all summer - shirt optional this time around. You know, maybe you should start considering just moving to somewhere tropical.

SENDO, RIN, CHIGIRI, NESS, Kiyora, Reo, Otoya, Yukimiya

#bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #oliver aiku x reader #seishiro nagi x reader #meguru bachira x reader #mikage reo x reader #michael kaiser x reader #ryusei shido x reader #kunigami x reader #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi rin x reader #chigiri x reader

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he-goes-down · 5 months

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MASTERLIST 🫶

REQUESTS: OPEN

Very slow request finishing as school is starting up and tests are hectic

might take ages cus i procrastinate

English aint my first language

I go by what im feeling that day for writing requests sorry.

I ALSO NEVER EDIT FOR SHIT

Fics:

There Was A Time - GNR

Something Stupid - GNR-shortstory

Estranged - GNR - fantasy -an idea

Shit posts:

Guns ‘n Poese - GNR - might be made in like 2 years time

Gnr mermaids - guide on how to do it - on hiatus for about maybe 2 years max

Requests:

Over 40 😥requests in the making (some not shown here cus im lazy)

Chosen by spin the wheel

Smut

Angst

Fluff

Although I mostly do smuts as they’re easier to write

Will:

- male reader cus im one too

- threesomes, foresomes, whole ass country (jokes)

- harder things like bondage ect

Wont:

- dont do ships just cus they aren’t my thing

Axl Rose:

Human Nature

Speedin’ Back To My Baby

Please - in drafts

Big Man With A Gun - in drafts

Wichita Lineman - in drafts

Thriller - in drafts

My Kinda Lover - in drafts

Burning Heart - in drafts

Slash:

Love Lies

Cant Fight This Feeling - in drafts

Underwear -in drafts

Give me Love - in drafts

Gimmie More - in drafts

Highway Tune - in drafts

Duff Mckagan:

Turbo Lover

Break On Through

Tenderness

Need you tonight - in drafts

Within you - in drafts

Sunspots - in drafts

Black Velvet - in drafts

Water - in drafts

Slither - in drafts

S&M - in drafts

Cum On Feel The Noize - in drafts

Crazy in Love - in drafts

For Crying Out Loud - in drafts

Izzy Stradlin:

Photograph

Too funky

Run to you - in drafts

Come On Now Inside - in drafts

Big Love - in drafts

Hot For Teacher - in drafts

Girls on film - in drafts

Hard to get away I’m sorry/ get away - makes me wanna die inside from sadness so might take time

Steven Adler:

End Of The Night

Addicted To Love

Obsession

Excitable - in drafts

Out Of Touch - in drafts

Bad Medicine - in drafts

(I Just) Died In Your Arms- in drafts

Multiple:

DuffxrxIzzy:

Wild Child

Pretty Tied Up (wild child pt2) -in drafts

My Best Friend’s Girl - (Turbo Lover pt2) in drafts

DuffxrxSlash:

Our Last Summer

IzzyxrxSteven:

Sweet Surrender - in drafts

Allxr:

In The Still Of The Night - stumped

Do You Wanna Touch Me (Oh Yeah) - in drafts

Fantasy:

V! - vampire W! - werewolf

Blood That Moves The Body -V!IzzyxrxW!Slash

Lullaby - V!Izzy

The Walk - V!Axl

-in drafts

Lovesong -V!Steven

-in drafts

Crossover:

IzzyxrxJulianCasablancas:

Reptile

IzzyxrxDaveMustaine:

Rock You Like A Hurricane - in drafts

Others:

Warren DeMartini - Dancing On Glass

Julian Casablancas - Relax - tryna get thru the gnr ones

Jon Bon Jovi x r x Tom Keifer - Shake Me - in drafts

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clockways · 1 month

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After undergrad, I was done living with people. People didn’t turn off alarm clocks or clean up their messes or, perhaps, people even blamed you for their mental breakdown. I had had enough of people.

But I couldn’t live alone.

Luckily, I knew the perfect solution. See, other than the semesters of undergrad, I had always lived with cats. There were also dogs and hamsters and reptiles, but cats were the constant. It was a noble line going all the way back to Yoda, whom my mother got to be her cat in college.

It was only the start of summer, and I was already surreptitiously walking past the adoption area of the pet store. It was a good thing I did.

There in the cage, the only animal in the whole adoption area, was a tiny kitten. As soon as he saw me, he started to meow and kneed and reach through the bars. It was probably as close to love at first sight as I will ever get.

After finding out when adoption was and leaving and coming back at what was the wrong time and talking to the kitten through the glass—I finally was able to hold him.

He was perfect.

This little kitten with brown so deep it was black and a white underside and a very pink nose settled right into my arms and purred up a storm. I adopted him then and there.

Depressingly, with this adoption center, the little boy had to go back to get sniped before I could take him home. I often joked that the poor guy never had a lick of testosterone in his body with how early it all happened. (That didn’t stop in from growing into quite a tall, long cat, mind you.)

While he came home without his balls, he also came home with a kitten cold. My poor little perfect boy was sick to the point that he could die. Cats, if you didn’t know, don’t eat if they can’t smell. Stinky food was bought, force feeding was attempted, and in the end it was some Vick’s in hot water that cleared his sinuses up enough to eat.

Now that he was well, it was finally time to find the right name. Name is a process in my family. In rather reverse fae rules, by giving the pets the right name, they are cemented as family. My mother even adds them to the family bible.

This boy took two tries.

His first name was Underwood as you see, once he got is energy back, he was constantly walking across my lap and the laptop that had a pretty permanent place in it. My friends swiftly got used to getting ‘kitten messages’ sent to them. Annoyingly, some of the same friends wouldn’t stop calling him Carrie, even after I asked them not to, and I decided that I wasn’t going to put up with that for the next fourteen plus years.

As he was my ‘squirmy worm’ for his lack of desire to be held and ability to pop right out of a hold due to his silky fur, I combined the two and, finally, he found his right name of Wormwood. (This also, unbeknownst at the time, started the naming convention for my next two cats.)

Wormwood and I went off to graduate school not much later. The old but passable apartment I was in had a (rather shoddily) screened in porch. It became Worm’s favorite spot to sit, even in the middle of Texas heat.

Paper balls were discovered to be his favorite thing, followed by very tiny pompoms. If I was ignoring him, he’d knock my remote off my table to play. Even with that playing, I often joked that Worm was my semi mobile throw pillow. He loved to lounge and nap to the extreme, even for a cat.

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Worm never wanted other cats in his life, though he managed to accept Bugsy—my Siamese mutt—into our home in time, though Worm never ceded the foot of the bed to him. Together, we three moved back in with my parents (to total a too many five cats) until I could afford my own place. Worm had to suffer through another new brother, Beetle, about three years ago. Then not quite two years ago we moved to a new state.

All three boys did wonderful on the very long drive, and I like to think that it was worth it because of the fabulous sunroom in the new house. All of them had their favorite spots to sit out there and soak up the sun.

This winter, Worm took a turn. He dropped some weight while I was gone on a trip. I got him a heated bed that became his very favorite thing in the whole house. He would just melt into it.

Then it got worse.

I took him to the vet, and he had gone from about fifteen pounds down to five and a half. Blood work was clean though, so we increased his food and changed some things around.

Tueaday he was quite ill.

Wednesday was the first time there was a moment where he wasn’t there mentally. It felt like it was going to be time.

Thursday, today, I found him laying in a sunbeam. He didn’t even ask for food. At eleven today I took him to the vet. For about an hour before I held him, resting against my chest, and the two of us sat in the sun, listening to the birds.

I think he was ready to rest. He hardly moved at the vet during the shot and then… then he was gone.

And I had to leave him.

For sixteen years, nearly half my life, he has been my family and one of my best friends. I would have been so lost without him. I’m so sad to have to say goodbye, but I’m glad that he can rest now.

I’m glad that it was a pretty day and that we got to sit in the sun together and listen to the birds.

#clockwayspets #cw pet death

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dropofdrool · 11 months

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What the night does to the day - Alex Turner x Reader

Summary: Alex can't sleep alone during a hot summer night, so he decides to call for his baby.

Warnings: mature content (read responsibly), fem!reader, masturbation - self giving, dirty talk

Word count: 2.7 k

!! This is my first time writing not in my native language, so I hope this doesn't affect anyone's reading. Also, for this reason I didn't want to write something particularly original, just my personal version of a common fantasy that I’ve been thinking of for some time.

~☀︎︎~

The night was soft. The air exuded humidity after the heavy downpour, and the heat was stirred by warm gusts of wind, like pants after an intense sex. Alex shuffled to the sill and pulled the window open, hoping to catch one of those fleeting whiffs. The air movement was like balm on his bare, sweaty skin, but left him even hotter than before. Even the last piece of cloth that covered his body ended up on the floor. There, it wouldn't have been more useful than on his body, but at least it wouldn't have been in his way. He lay down, spread eagle, on the bed with too heavy blankets. Oh, his lovely darling, she loved to keep the duvet even in the summer. In this way, she could bask herself in the softness of the sheets, as she rolled around naked in their softness. Since she'd left, he still hadn't had the heart to change them. Those sheets smelled like her perfume, sweat, humours, natural sweetness.

He was so hot, it was unbearable. Another gust of breeze teased his legs, and he activated for a moment, hopeful, but then grunted in disappointment. He had wanted to delude himself that it was her hands touching him, delicate and relieving, but nothing. She wasn't there. For too long now.

Come on, she's been away for just three days. Just? No one had touched him for three days, and that was beginning to affect his body. She used to touch him often, and for him it had almost turned into an addiction; before he knew it, he found it impossible to live without her. Actually, he didn't ask for much: he didn't need to penetrate her every day, wet his lips with her to feel that she was really his. A kiss was enough, her hand on his shoulder or one of those powerful hugs that she used to vent her joy. I'm like a reptile, I'll die without her warmth, Alex thought dramatically. Indeed, at the moment he felt right like a lizard in the desert, slow and dehydrated; all it needed to complete the picture was a bit of sand. He ran his hand over his face, and his eyes stung with sweat. Then, he brought that hand to his lips, in a casual gesture, that however made him flinch in surprise. He was extraordinarily sensitive. A rush of pleasure shot through his body and suddenly, he was aroused. The endless immobility of the heat made everything unpredictable.

Carefully, he slid one hand down his neck, feeling it quiver. His chest, covered in light, soft hair, rose and fell now irregularly as he touched himself, curious. First his pecs, then his abs, v-line, even thighs. He marvelled at how toned he was: the training, as well as the effort on stage, had its effect on his body. Oh, I like it, he thought. But what does she think about it? Several times she’d told him how watching and touching his body sent her into ecstasy, a conflict between the desire to admire him as a painting and actually touch him, to confirm that he was a property of hers, a work of art that she alone could enjoy. Her voice was broken with sincerity as she spoke, blood rushing to her cheeks and eyes wide and bright: she seemed to be declaiming an ode in honour of a god. Her words sounded funny to him, because sometimes he forgot that he was no longer the boy with buzzed hair that girls used to look at with affection only. Now, he was a rather attractive man in the prime of his life, according to what he was told. Despite that, he needed her attentions only.

He really wanted to believe that he deserved her adoration, but he just couldn't understand how anyone could worship him with such strength and honesty. However, in those moments, he remembered how that feeling wasn't so unnatural in the end: he just had to think about how much he was capable of loving her. His muse, goddess, comfort, despair: oh, if only she loved him half as much as he loved her, what a lucky man he would be! He thought about the feeling of inhibition, helplessness in front of the glory of her person, brilliant mind, sparkling soul, radiant body and enveloping warmth and softness and wetness and moans sighs lovebites pleasure

He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. He needed her now. He closed his eyes, trying to imagine her next to him. Over him. Under. On all fours, with her head pressed on the pillow while

You need to call her. He grunted. “Yeh can't, silly,” he said out loud, to make it clear. She's been busy today, and she'll be tomorrow too, you can't disturb her. But it was hot by her too, surely she was tossing in her sleep, tormented by the heat. Maybe she's not sleeping. Maybe she was in his same situation, craving his touch and company.

The unavoidable thought flashed through his mind. Just for a second, but it was enough to make him moan. He imagined her hands running along her body, tracing its irregularities as precious as diamonds to his eyes. Perhaps, she would have teased her nipples, erect and sensitive, sighing and then laughing at her own action. Slapped her thighs lightly, as he liked so much to do, to see them shine and move in the moonlight. Then, her slender fingers would have met the soft wetness between her legs, rubbing playfully at first, then desperately, seeking relief. He felt the familiar rush of blood boil towards his lower abdomen, discovering that he was half-hard already. Mm, that’s nice. That’s really, really… Without thinking, his hand ended up around his length and he began to slowly stroke himself. An all too loud grunt escaped his lips and he pouted, annoyed. He didn't want this for tonight, a pointless wank that’d only get his sheets dirty in vain. If that had really to be done, he didn't want to be alone through it. Before he knew it, his fingers were dialing her number and his phone was ringing. He felt the waiting with his whole body, hoping that she was awake or would become soon.

"Honey, what are you doing up this late at night?"

An audible sigh left his lips, a weight seemed to unhook from his heaving chest.

"Can’t sleep. 'M feeling a lil’ blue."

“Poor sweetheart. How so?"

“‘S too hot in here.”

“You should try and stay here! I've been laying here naked for hours, smeared on the bed. I can't even remember the last time I saw the curtains move because of the fucking wind. At least you’ve got a fan.”

The fan, right. Surely, it was holed up in some hidden corner of the house, and surely she’d taken it there, to do who knows what strange things. Where was he supposed to find the strength to get up and go look for it?

“I can barely move me limbs, I fink yeh'll find meh fused to yehr bloody duvet when yeh get back.”

She laughed. It was a breathless laugh, maybe a little tired, but honest. His heart ached with a twinge of nostalgia.

"I missed hearing yeh laugh."

"Did you?"

"Oh yes. I've been finking about yeh all night. All day, to be honest. Everyday."

Alex heard a sigh from the other end of the phone, and he was sure she’d smiled. He heard the sheets shift, as if she'd rolled over in her bed.

"What are you thinking about?"

“I’m finking about how it's been three foockin’ days since anyone’s touched meh. It ‘urts more than the heat, and the 'and I burned myself yesterday trying to grill a stupid steak.”

She laughed again. He loved making her laugh.

“Honey, do I need to remind you that you also have your little big hands to touch yourself?”

Little bastard. He loved her.

"Yeh want meh to say that mine are nothing compared to yehrs, don't yeh?"

"That’s not true. The expressions and noises that you make… they are no less luscious when we do that thing I like so much, right Alex?”

He knew exactly what she meant.

"Tell meh about it."

“Only if you make sure your little big sweet hands are on your cock while I do it, stroking it exactly the way I want.”

Well, they finally got there. Alex felt himself burning.

“Okay,” he moaned.

"Perfect." she replied. She sighed shakily, then started to speak.

“That thing I like so much, love, is when you please yourself without me doing anything. I love watching you as my mere presence turns you on, and you caress yourself and moan oh so sweetly. The first time we did that, you were so nervous. You'd stripped completely, and so had I; I sat on the bed with my legs crossed and you could see everything, my darling, you couldn't take your eyes off from between my thighs…" The first moan slipped out from his lips. Behind the black of his closed eyelids, he saw a flash of her open, wet, pink flower ready and throbbing for him; she who acted as if nothing happened, her hands tucked underneath her thighs and her adoring eyes wide open, ready to enjoy his little show.

“You said you didn't understand what I wanted you to do. I remember you looking like a lil' lost puppy, yet your cock was there, standing between us, throbbing and so hard in your hands. Your body was glowing, love. I told you to touch yourself like your sixteen self would in your childhood bedroom, when a pretty girl had fluttered beside you in the morning and that tingling sensation in your stomach just refused to go away; when the shame surrendered to the instinct, and there was only you and the desperate pursuit of pleasure in the room.”

“But back then the pretty girl was right in front of meh, almost worse off than meh. Yeh were glorious and I 'ad never touched meself for anyone, it seemed like a waste."

"You changed your mind, didn't you?"

"Oh yes. I could ‘ave come joost because of yehr gaze.”

“And I because of yours. How funny’d have it been, if we’d actually came there, just because we were staring at each other?"

“I don't know if that's the funniest or most erotic fing I've ever ‘eard. Oh…"

He’d accidentally flicked his wrist too quickly, and now he felt the relentless knot in his belly begin to tighten, a rousing pleasure crawl up his spine.

“Not so fast, baby. Breathe, slow down.”

“Are yeh with meh, honey?”

“Oh yes Alex. Yes, yes, there’s such a mess on my bed now. So empty, so cold…”

"Yeh 'ave to 'old on love, I can't stay away from yeh anymore too, but I promise that when yeh’ll come back I’ll make yeh feel so good, yeh'll wonder if these lonely moments weren't joost a bad dream.”

"You sure?" she whispered, her voice broken, this time from something different than pleasure; Alex recognized that she was holding back tears in her throat.

“Yes honey, that's a promise. Don't cry, focus on us. On yehr fingers, babeh, keep moving 'em. How many d’yeh ‘ave inside?”

She sniffed, then let out a soft moan.

"Two…"

“Good, yeh're doing so well… if I were with yeh, love, I'd take yehr little fingers in my ‘and and lick ’em clean of all yehr sweetness. God, I love yehr ‘ands so much… when I squeeze yehr wrists, I almost feel like I could break 'em, yet they ‘ave such an effect on meh, when they work so well between me legs. It may be true that I love touching meself, especially when it pleases yeh too, but without the dream of yehr touch I’d die, my darling."

“God, Alex, you have no idea how you're making me feel…”

“‘M glad. I'm so close…”

The orgasm began to blossom in Alex's lower abdomen, and his body arched. He closed his eyes for a moment, overwhelmed by the intensity of his sensations. He panted heavily, revelling in the orchestra of moans and sighs of his name on the other end of the phone. He felt so empty, deprived of his other half, yet so full, knowing that despite the distance they were still with each other, in the middle of the night, coming together. He smiled. Suddenly, a thunder ripped through the silence of the sky. The pounding of a precious and unpredictable midsummer rain filled Alex' ears, in a vibrant crescendo that shook him to the core, making him tremble.

"Alex Alex Alex I'm right there, come with me..."

He ignored his wrist beginning to feel tired, stroking his cock ready to receive an orgasm. His whole body claimed it, and he desperately chased it, abandoned to passion like a seed carried by the spring wind. Suddenly, his eyes fell on her bedside pillow. He saw a detail that he hadn't noticed until then. A smudge of lipstick, top left. Surely, when it still painted its owner's lips, it must have been of a magnetic, inhibiting brilliance. Now it was faded with age, but it still stood out like a crimson flower in the snow white sheets.

That did it for Alex. He remembered how that loveprint had stained her pillow: he thought about her face pressed into it, her back arched and shining as he took her from behind, lovingly holding her hips and breasts, craving another pair of arms to be able to touch her entirely. "Harder, Alex, please don't stop..." she moaned, biting the pillow and smudging it with the lipstick that she hadn't had time to take off after their night out. Her body spoke too, claiming and urging him, writhing her oh so soft hips against his. Because of those lips on the pillow, Alex felt himself wet his own hand, a fog cloud every other thought as all the tension left his body. Sweet relief. He collapsed on the bed, managing to hear the last loud moan of his love. He waited to calm down, panting; his heartbeat didn't seem to want to slow down.

"Honey, are you there? Do you feel good? It's not time to die of a heart attack during sex yet…"

This time it was he who laughed with joy.

"I feel in heaven, love. Oh, I love yeh so much..."

His voice trembled with the intensity of his own words, as if his mouth alone couldn't express what he was feeling. His body proved it too, since it had just been blessed by the ecstasy of the senses at the mere thought of her.

"D’you remember what we did the night before yeh left?"

"Mm, I don't know, we do lots of things…"

"Tha’ lipstick yeh were wearing. It's still on the pillow."

"Oh…"

Alex smiled, knowing that she had realised.

"Yes, now I remember… you rascal, you were insatiable that night."

"Insatiable, meh? I don't remember it being meh who asked yeh to spank meh."

"Pff, you're a cowboy now, Turner, certain things shouldn't shock you anymore." she teased him in an American accent.

They stayed together for a few more minutes, without saying anything; her presence, even if just virtual, relaxed him and he didn't want to let her go. The rain dropped lazily, unhurried on the roof, in an incessant lullaby that slowly began to weigh on his satisfied eyelids. He yawned.

“Honey, I think it's time to go back to sleep. I've loved spending time with you, but tomorrow’s gonna be a busy day…”

“Mm.”

That painful twinge of nostalgia made its way back into his heart, but he chased it away. She had just shown him that she would always be there for him, even in the middle of the night: what more could he desire?

“See you tomorrow then, sunshine. I love you."

"Love yeh too, sleep well."

"You too, goodnight my love."

She cut off the call. Alex threw back his head, breathing deeply. He didn't have the strength to get up and clean the mess he’d made; that would have been next morning’s business. He took the galeotto pillow, hugged it and sank his tired yet satisfied face in it. He closed his eyes, ready to abandon himself to sweet dreams of her.

~☀︎︎~

Notes: "Galeotto" is an Italian adjective that means "love intermediary", "guilty of having made two people fall in love", just as the pillow of our lovebirds; Dante Alighieri uses it in the Divine Comedy to indicate the book that Paolo and Francesca were reading when they fell in love.

#alex turner x reader #alex turner x you #alex turner smut #alex turner fanfic #alex turner imagine #fantasies

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written-in-flowers · 2 months

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The Drifter: The Weaved Web (1.01)

Pairing: Chan x Demon!fem!Reader (future)

Genre: adventure, fantasy, romance, fluff

AU: western!au, fantasy!au, bounty hunter!au,

Word Count: 20k

Overall Summary: A demonic bounty hunter drifts into the sleepy seaside town of Levanter Bay, and there is where she finally finds a real home.

Tags: western!au, demon!reader, fantasy!au, high fantasy, kidnapping, child kidnapping, demon summoning, mentions of death, mentions of trauma/PTSD, arachnophobia, descriptions of violence,

Disclaimer: These works are completely fictious and for entertainment purposes only. They are not meant to reflect or label the members of Stray Kids. The events within never took place.

Please do not repost/translate!

****

Episode 1: Sacrifices.

Episode Summary: A rash of child kidnappings has unsettled the quaint town of Levanter Bay, Sheriff Bahng and his deputies are at a loss until a strange demon comes riding into town.

***

‘Welcome to Levanter Bay, The Sunny Side.”

Levanter Bay appeared anything but sunny. An overcast sky blocked any sunlight that might’ve shone on the open bay. The water washing up on the docks appeared gray and dark, small waves lapping at the wooden stilts holding up the port. From the top of the hill, the small town resembled a semi-circle of small buildings leading out to the docks far off. It did not seem any different than any other country town, and after a week of riding and camping, a warm bed and a hot meal sounded good. Giving gentle kicks to Summer's sides, the black mare started to walk down from the hills.

“What do you think, girl?” You asked your mount with a soft pat. “How does a warm night in a stable of hay sound?” When Summer huffed, you said, “I know we're low on money. With a bit of luck, this place will have a bounty board and we can get some coin. It'll all work out, I promise.”

Summer gave another snort, and you furrowed your brow. “Don't be bitter. That thing with the snakes turned out okay in the end. We got the reptile guy's amulet and returned it to the villagers. Everything was fine like all the other times. Whatever job we find next will be just as easy, and we can end the day with a good pint of ale and some hay….” You then scratched her neck, “And maybe an apple? A sugarcube?”

You smiled when Summer whinnied softly. Reaching the bottom of the hill, you saw the quiet town up ahead of the dirt road. People riding their own horses and driving wagons passed you on their way into town, likely on their way to the ships at the end of the main road. You considered taking one of them when you finish up business in town. The destination itself never mattered to you. Each location offered up more chances at new experiences and new lessons. The Shadowlands provided nothing but melancholy and pain. The mortal world teemed with life, and you wanted to feel it all.

Once you entered town, you saw the scope of the townspeople. People of all races, human and magic, lived side by side in harmony. You spotted a werewolf in human form, his ears and nose a dead giveaway, talking to an elderly man through a post office window. Out of the local bank came a blond man, counting bills before sticking them in his bill fold. Two women, one a feline werecat and the other a reptilian walked together to a market stall run by a young human. Back home, the only people around were other demons like yourself. Those who passed through The Mar already departed the mortal realm, therefore could not be considered “alive”. They’d been shadows who could do nothing but wail in their misery. You made eye contact with a skinny elf walking out of a barbershop, and grinned.

“Morning, sir,” you nodded at him as you rode past.

Townspeople in such a tight knit community tended to eye strangers closely, but they appeared extra suspicious of you. A young mother walking past with her children spotted you, and held them closer to her sides, rushing away from you. It's your horn stumps, no doubt. No amount of hair or hats could hide the two stumps on the front of your head. The first tell-tale sign of a demon was their horns, their markings being the second. You covered yours with your jacket and gloves, but if anyone did see them, they'd see the ancient fire runes inked onto your shoulders and wrists in adolescence. It’d been your markings that drew Him to you in the first place.

‘Children of the flames are mighty and strong. I can make you stronger.’

Summer gruffed when a reptilian woman crossed her path, but you calmed her down immediately. Clearly, your dreadsteed hadn't gotten over her last encounter with reptiles. You apologized to the woman, then asked:

“Excuse me, can you tell me where your inn or hotel is around here?”

“In the market square,” she said a tad affronted, closing her coat over her chest with folded arms. “The White Pearl, is the name. Ask for Changbin, he'll get you a room, Miss.”

“Thank you, and sorry again about my horse,” you patted Summer's neck, “She's…skittish.”

The woman gave a contemptuous huff, then walked away. Riding into the large town square, you pass vendors selling their wares until you find an inn nestled into a corner. You guessed it by the hanging sign that read “The White Pearl” with an open clam shell underneath. Through saloon doors and large windows, you saw patrons already enjoying a drink and a meal inside. The thought of a hot breakfast crossed your mind, and your stomach growled. Dismounting Summer, you tied her up to a pole next to other horses, and walked inside.

Nobody noticed you walk in, since everyone appeared focused on their own conversations. Good. You didn't want anyone seeing you. Crowded places tended to have too many eyes, and too many eyes also meant too many mouths. You've run out of enough taverns to know to keep a low profile until you've taken a good look around.

‘Mortals are weak and simple. They are meant to be beneath our feet.’

“Howdy there,” a voice caught your attention.

He stood behind the bar cleaning pint glasses. Seeing his muscled arms and short stature, you guessed a dwarf but he appeared a bit too tall. A forest dwarf, then. He wore a flannel shirt rolled up his forearms and a white apron around his waist. You gave a small smile and head nod as you approached.

“Welcome to The White Pearl,” he glanced up at your horn stumps, but did not linger long, “What can I get you? We have our daily lunch special, a hot sandwich with a drink of choice.”

It sounded good, but your light purse felt heavier than ever. “I'll take a bit of water for now, thanks.”

The innkeep went to work pouring water into a glass. “Just passing through, ma'am?”

“For the moment,” you answered, taking a drink from the cold mug. “I was wondering if your sheriff’s office had a bounty board? My horse and I came from Newport a few miles west, and we've gotten cleaned out since then.”

“A bounty hunter, hm?” The man nodded, taking you in for a moment. “Yeah, Chan has a hero's board outside the station. You won't find anything that pays well there though.”

“Poor town? I thought with the port nearby you'd be off better than some other places.”

“You'd think that right?” He noted, “But since our docks were invaded by pirates a few months ago, our mayor has been working on rebuilding it. You'll be doing quite a few jobs I expe-Hey, you!” He snapped from his friendly tone to a harsh one. You looked to see a child walking secretly out of the tavern, guilt on his face. “What did I tell you about pickpocketing, Eunwoo? Come here, empty them out.”

The young moon elf, detected by his high pointed ears and soft lavender skin, came over to the bar. From his pockets he withdrew a leather bill fold, two gold coins, a single dice and a silver spoon.

“A spoon?” The innkeep questioned, lifting the utensil. “Eunwoo, who could you have sold the spoon to?”

“People always need spoons, Changbin,” the boy shrugged. “There can be somebody eating soup and not have a spoon.”

“I've told you before,” Changbin slid the contents into a wooden box behind the counter, “If you're hungry, I'll give you a free plate and a drink. You don't have to steal.”

“Sorry, Changbin,” he pouted apologetically.

“Now, go on into the kitchen and tell Wooyoung to give you a lunch plate. You can feed Honey too, if you want.”

The elf child smiled brightly, then rushed through a door behind the bar. He turned back to you, “Seo Changbin, I own this place. You are?”

“YN,” you answered, “Just YN.”

“You're a demon? I thought demons had strange names? I met one during the war named Tarhez.”

You giggled, taking a drink, “I changed it when I decided to live in the mortal world.”

“Oh yeah? What is it?”

“Multak,” you said, your true name sounding rough and deep. You laughed at his stunned expression, “Told you it's hard on mortal ears. In my language it means ‘shield of fire’.”

“Interesting,” he replied sincerely. “If you couldn't tell from the patrons eyeballing you right now, we don't get many demons around here.”

“Not many of us decided to stay when the war ended.”

You almost could not go home when the war against Nor'goth ended. The evil, primordial demon lord escaped from your realm into the mortal one, claiming that all humankind deserved punishment and enslavement. While most demons joined him, a fair few of you went against him. The Blind One, Sakmarth, led a force to defeat Nor'goth once and for all. You might have not known mortals at the time, but you knew nobody deserved enslavement. It simply went against your code. The image of the mighty, dark demon sent a sickly chill over your body. Glowing orange eyes that saw into your soul and tentacles that tore down several men at a time came to the forefront. He’d been monstrous. Even now, so many years later, you still heard his guttural voice in your head.

‘You are mighty, shield of fire. Join me, and together we can bring this world to its knees.’

You’d told him ‘no’ before sending him back into the abyss.

“What about you? If I'm correct, you're a dwarf, no?”

“Woodland Dwarf,” he smiled, “And proud of it. I came down from the Blue Mountains far west, with nothing but a dream, my axe, and my bear.”

“Bear?” Your eyes widened.

“Yeah, my bear Honey. She's right there,” he nodded over to an open window where you saw a massive grizzly bear walk past. “I've had her since she was a cub. She's dangerous and looks like it, but if you give her some food and a head scratch, she’ll love you until the day you die.”

“Like my Summer,” you pointed out your own horse outside, “She's a dreadsteed. That's like a demon horse to mortals.”

“A dreadsteed? I think I saw those on the battlefield. Some demons I knew had them.”

“They're faster than lightning, stronger than oxes, and make good war horses,” you added. “She's gotten me out of a few jams in the past. I bet your Honey did the same.”

“She did. I took her into battle myself…Seems we both have war stories to tell,” he drawled, gazing over you again. “Listen, if you want a good paying gig, Sheriff Bahng always has open bounties in the station documents. If he thinks you're up to snuff, he'll pass on something to you. He should be there now.”

You finished your water, then nodded appreciatively. “Thanks, I'll go check out the board, then I can come back for that special.”

He gave you a nod, and you left the inn. Summer shifted her feet when you untied her. “The place seems alright,” you told her. “They got a pet bear, but I'm sure it's not in the stables.”

Changbin said you’d find a listing outside the sheriff’s office. Feeling your light coin purse and hearing your rumbling stomach again, you knew you’d need to find a job soon. Walking through the busy market square towards the sheriff’s station, you spotted the wooden bulletin board covered in different colored papers. Reading some of them, you realized most involved hunting down excess wildlife in the forests beyond the town, finding lost items or relatives, or helping settle disputes. Nothing particular stuck out to you, but mindless work was better than no work at all.

“What do you think, Summer?” you turned to the black horse you’d guided by the reins to the board. “Want to go hunt down some feral boars with me?” The black stead huffed and shook her long black mane, almost as if declining the offer. You chuckled, “Alright, that’s a no.” You looked at the board again, “Well, we gotta pick something. I might be demonkin and you might be a dreadsteed, but we have to eat too.”

You continued looking for a proper posting when someone came out of the office. He wore a beige button down and denim jeans with black boots. The badge on his breast glinted in the morning light, the word ‘sheriff’ across the top with the town sigil on it. Black curls kept back from his face, even with his big nose he was handsome. At least, other women might think so. You turned to him right as he stretched and basked in the warm sun.

“Excuse me, Sheriff?”

“Oh, good morning,” he smiled, noticing you standing there, “I've never seen your face around here before. You're new in town?”

“Just stopping here,” you explained. “I was checking out your listings board.”

He sized you up for a moment. You caught him looking over your black jacket, plain shirt and boots, getting a sense of you before his eyes landed on the crown of your head. Your horns were the price you paid to live amongst humans. His eyes stayed on them a moment, then he looked back at your face.

“What’s a demonkin doing so far from home?” he asked curiously.

The usage of your peoples’ true name surprised you. “Living.”

“Clearly, you’re not keen on doing it for long if you’re looking at our board,” he said, almost amused. “Do you have a speciality?”

“Warlock,” you answered, “Sort of goes hand-in-hand with my kind.”

He nodded again, “How long have you been drifting?”

“Since the war ended.”

“You fought?”

“Yes, sir. I fought with the Mortal Armies.”

“Against your own people?”

“Not all of us see other races as beneath us. I like to think of myself as one of the good ones. Now,” you stepped closer, “Does your office have any private work or do I help Mrs. Young with her feral boars? The innkeep at the White Pearl said you might.”

The sheriff gave you another once over, then said, “Tie your horse up there and come in. I think I have something up your alley.”

You tied Summer to a post outside the door, and followed the sheriff inside. “I’m Chan, by the way,” he introduced himself in the main hall, offering his hand.

“YN,” you replied, shaking it firmly.

“A demonkin named YN,” he mused, “Never thought I'd see one of your type around here.”

You looked around the small office to see two other men already in the room. One of them was short with cheeks expanded by the donut he’d stuffed into his mouth. By the long fluffy tail sticking from behind the chair and his black nose, you saw the squirrel hybrid immediately. The man jotting down notes in a book had two slits in his shirt that revealed the dark purple wings close to his body. When he looked up at you, his eyes matched his wings. A shadow fairy. The squirrel hybrid only nodded, but the dark fae sat stock still. You registered the stunned expression and realized he recognized you. Not many mortals knew you by sight, mostly by name and your demon name at that.

“YN, these are my deputies: Han Jisung and Lee Minho,” he pointed to the hybrid first, then the fae, “Boys, this is YN. She’s come looking for work. I thought she could help us with the Hook Clan.”

Both men also sized you up like their sheriff. Han spoke up first, “Speciality?”

“Warlock,” you answered again. To prove it, you flicked your wrist to make the donut in his hand disappear and reappear. “That’s nothing compared to what I can really do.”

“Hm,” Han stuffed the other half into his mouth before you could do it again.

“As I live and breathe…” Minho said softly, “Multak.”

“You know her, Minho?” Jisung questioned in surprise.

“Have we met before, sir?” you asked him next.

“Not personally,” he answered, “But every shadow fairy who was at the Battle of Incheon knows the fire demon Multak.”

Incheon, home of the dark fae race. You recalled it fondly: tall dark trees with their canopies of leaves hiding the light-sensitive species, and wooden houses sitting on stilts or floating on boats throughout the wide rivers and lakes. Shadow fae came in all shapes and sizes, but they proved to be fierce and formidable allies. Nor’goth’s forces kidnapped and drained the fairies of their powers to weaken them, even breaking their bodies to do it. Your heart had gone out to the wisps, the smallest and most gentle of them all. All they do is tell fortunes and guide people to their fates.

“Wait…” Chan stood still, examining you once again, “You’re the fire demon?”

“I’m a fire demon,” you said, not wanting to go into the differences between the demon clans in The Mar.

“She stopped Nor’goth almost single handedly-”

“-Almost-” you emphasized, “It was a group effort.”

If the Orcs had not distracted his people with their fiery catapults and if the elves had not shielded you, you wouldn’t have been able to strike. Your sword, a runic blade of fire, struck Nor’goth right in his heart.

“I don’t know,” Minho said in a sing-song tone, “It was your flaming sword that vanquished him in the first place.”

“You have a flaming sword?” Jisung’s eyes widened with wonder.

“It’s a runic blade,” you turned to Chan, “So, who is this Hook Clan?”

Minho sensed the change in subject, but you knew he wasn’t done. Nor’goth and the war are the last things you wished to discuss in detail. You did not agree with the Shadow Lords about Nor’goth’s sentence; banishing him to the underworld prison, The Abyss, will not hold him forever. You didn't care how weak they'd made him.

“They’re outlaws at the edge of town,” Chan answered, going over to a desk where he kept a stack of folders. He brought it over to you, withdrawing reports and documents for you to see. “They started off with stealing cattle or crops from the farmers, but they’ve escalated in recent weeks.”

“Escalated how?”

You noticed the three men appeared apprehensive, a tension starting to stiffen between them.

“They started kidnapping children,” said Minho. “The last kidnapping was Wang's little girl, Hyeyoung. Before that was Seo Dobin, and before that was Lee Sanghee. The only connections we’ve been able to make,” he flipped through his notebook and found a page. He walked over to you and showed you the page, “All three were between eight and ten, taken from farmlands, and in broad daylight. We don’t know where they are, why the clan is taking them, or what they plan to do with them.”

“What makes you think it was them?”

“The clan always paints a red hook somewhere when they’ve struck. It’s been found at each scene.”

“That’d be foolish of them to do,” you noted, reading more of his notes. “That’s basically telling you that it was them.”

“They’re not the brightest bunch, if I’m being honest,” Minho replied.

“Which means they’re least likely to have done it,” Chan told him. “Kidnappings like this require a thought process and planning. The Hooks have always operated loosely: pick a target, slaughter anyone who gets in the way, and take what they want. If they are kidnapping these children, they would’ve slipped up at some point.”

“They could be hired by somebody else,” Han chimed in from his desk. “Red Hook will work for whoever pays him enough. If they’re taking kids, it’s likely someone is paying them to do it.”

“Then who?” Chan looked over to ask him.

One person came to mind, but you’d sound foolish. Nor’goth is currently imprisoned in the Abyss, an island floating in a dark void, powerless and useless to anyone. You read Chan’s reports and cross-checked them with Minho’s notes. You hated to think it, but some dark warlocks and shadow magic practitioners use children in their rituals. Just because a ritual lists ‘innocent blood’ or ‘innocent souls’ does not mean the caster needed a child. Even demonkin preferred using animals over defenseless children.

“-I think it’s just too easy to scapegoat a group because of their reputation,” Chan’s voice caught your ear. “I want to catch Red Hook and his band of outlaws, but I want to arrest them for crimes they actually committed.”

“His mark’s has been found at each scene-”

The outlaws must be hired to help. They reminded you of a band of thieves back in the capital city who were stealing resources from a nearby mine. It turned out they stole them for greedy goblins.

“Do you know anything about this clan aside from their crimes?” you interrupted them. “Their leader? Anything significant?”

“We don’t have a name, but he calls himself the Red Hook,” Chan told you. “According to people who’ve seen him, they say he’s a magic user.”

“Human?” you directed this at Minho.

“Can’t say for sure, since the clan is a mixed bag,” he replied, “But the people we interviewed said they didn’t see any magical distinctions.”

“Where do they hide out?”

“Around,” Chan shrugged. “Last location was an abandoned farmhouse northwest of here. We checked it out already, and they’re no longer there. They tend to drift around to keep us a step behind them all the time.”

“My friends in the forest tell me when they see them,” Jisung said, “But they’re pretty well hidden a lot of the time. It’s likely Red Hook is concealing them somehow.”

“Friends?”

“The animals,” he explained. “The rabbits, squirrels, gophers, moles, and the like. I can talk to birds sometimes, but not always. It helps to have eyes in the trees,” he grinned mischievously, picking up a bag of trail mix.

“I’d like to talk to the families,” you said, seeing the children’s names once more.

You didn’t see anything peculiar other than they’d taken two girls and a boy so far. Some rituals called for a certain number of souls, but never spoke about sexes. It can certainly be a coincidence. Although, you rarely came across those in your line of work.

“We already did,” Minho told you, “They don’t know anything.”

“I’d still like to talk to them myself. Their children might have something in common that you missed.”

“Does this mean you’ll take the job?” Chan asked, and you detected a glimmer of hope in his voice.

“For a fee.”

“Naturally,” he nodded.

“With a demon on our team,” Minho said, “We’ll have this case wrapped up by supper.”

“I don’t know about all that, but I’ll do my best,” you insisted.

Chan moved to his nearby office when the door opened. In walked a rotund, dark-skinned man in a blue suit, wearing a bowler hat and checking his pocket watch. He didn’t look at the men at first, but when he looked up, his eyes settled on you. Shock took over his broad, square face and brown eyes widened with realization.

“Good afternoon, Mayor,” Chan intervened before the man could speak, “What can I do for ya?”

“Chan, there is a demon in our station,” he said, voice quivering slightly.

“She’s a bounty hunter,” he assured him. “She’s come to help with the missing children.”

“Demons don’t like children.”

“We do, actually,” you retorted, arms crossed. “And no, not to eat them,” you added disdainfully.

“YN's a bounty hunter, Gerald,” Chan said. “She's just agreed to help us with the missing children. I think it'd be beneficial to have someone like her helping us. YN, this is our Mayor, Gerald Wallace.”

“Nice to meet you, sir,” you tried keeping the annoyance from your voice.

“I don't know, Chan,” the mayor said, “You know folks around here. They won't take kindly to a…demon being in town right now.”

“I only want to help,” you fixed your jacket, “But if you don't want me here and want your children to keep being snatched up, then I'll be on my way.”

“Wait, wait,” Minho came to your side and faced the mayor, “Mayor Wallace, this demon isn't a normal demon. She's the demon who ended the war.”

Did he really have to keep telling people that?

“Impossible,” the mayor scoffed, “There's no way that demon stuck around after the war.”

“I did,” you said. “Do you want my help or not?”

“We do,” Chan answered quickly. “We do.”

“Chan,” Mayor Wallace turned to him stiffly, “May I speak to you in private, please?”

“Of course,” he gestured to let him pass, “This way.”

He shot you an apologetic glance, then followed the mayor into an office.

“Sorry about that,” Minho said, “I promise our townspeople normally aren't this prejudiced. Things have been uneasy around here, so you can imagine a newcomer strolling into town concerning people.”

“Explains everyone's apprehension,” you replied, seeing Chan and Mayor Wallace through a window. You can see both men starting to heat up during the conversation. “It doesn't bother me as much as it used to,” you said, “I understand my people did heinous things when they came here. Not everyone is so quick to forgive.”

“But not everyone is like that here,” Han reassured you. “They'll warm up to you soon enough.”

You didn't particularly care if the little people liked you. You didn't plan on staying too long anyways.

“Where are you staying in town?” asked Minho, walking over to a small bookshelf behind his own desk. “The White Pearl?”

“I need money for a room and a stable first,” you told him, feeling that rumble in your stomach again. “I hoped I might get at least an advance. We've rode a long way.”

“We can talk about that when Chan finally finishes with Gerald,” he casted a glance over to the window. Chan appeared to have quieted the mayor down, but the man remained unconvinced. “You can go on ahead and tell Changbin I sent you. He'll give you a room, and some feed for your horse.”

“Appreciated,” you nodded, “Tell Chan he can find me there.”

“-Chan, I'm telling you this isn't a good idea!” Mayor Wallace said, coming out of Chan’s office. “We already got the docks to rebuild, the town council is on my behind about the merfolk situation and now we have our children going missing! Then, you got Han over there who'll tell anybody that'd listen that we got a demon and cause a damn hysteria!”

Chan appeared more amused than upset by now, and asked, “Han, you planning on causing a hysteria?”

“Not today, Chan.”

“See? Gerald, you put me in charge of the safety of this town,” he patted his shoulder, “Trust me.”

Wallace's shoulders sagged, and he gave you an uncertain glance, “Alright. I trust you. You never let us down before.”

“There you go,” Chan concluded, steering Mayor Wallace to the door. “You tell the council we have our best people on this…”

“He really knows how to de-escalate a situation, huh?” you asked, impressed.

“That's why he is the sheriff,” Han nodded. “Come on, I'll take you back to the inn. You can get settled before the work begins.”

Han led you out the door, and you untied Summer. “Looks like we got a job after all,” you grinned, petting her side. She huffed and you said, “No, no snakes this time…I think.”

“Wow,” Han marveled at Summer, taking in her fiery eyes and black mane. “A real dreadsteed.” He wiggled his nose at Summer, who nodded her head. When he gave a grin, cheeks puffing out, he said, “She's a tough cookie, huh? She says you guys just came from Newport.”

“You can talk to her?” You guided Summer back to the inn.

“Animal hybrid,” he pointed at his own chest. “I can talk to all kinds of animals, even demonic ones.” He glanced at her again, “Summer is an interesting name for a dreadsteed. Is that her real name or a new one?”

“It's her name,” you said. “I gave it to her when we came back to the mortal realm. I named her that because summer is my favorite season. We don't have seasons where I'm from.”

“How dreadful,“ Han frowned, “I can't imagine living anywhere that is so desolate. I used to live in the forest before Chan found me and brought me here.”

“Found you?”

He scrunched up his nose guiltily, “I might not have been the most law-abiding squirrel at the time. I'd been caught stealing food from different farms, and rather than send me up the road, he gave me a place to stay and a job.”

“During or after the war?”

“After,” you both reached the steps of the inn, “A group of demons attacked my village and destroyed everything. I didn't have anywhere to go, so I ended up outside town. Chan found me hiding in someone's boat and took me in.”

“That's awfully kind of him.”

“That's the kind of guy he is,” he shrugged. “He really cares about everyone.”

Han and Changbin helped you and Summer settle into The White Pearl. By the time Chan arrived, you'd devoured a hot sandwich and given Summer hay and an apple for her patience.

“Everything squared then?” You asked him. “Your mayor seems…”

“He's only being cautious,” Chan insisted, “But with a bit of convincing, he's willing to pay the 50 gold price.”

Fifty sounded more than fair to you. After that, he insisted on taking you to the childrens’ families himself. You both mounted your horses and headed towards the first farm.

“What can you tell me about their families?” you asked him, riding Summer alongside him on his own horse.

“Seo Dobin, the first kid taken, lives at the Seo vineyard not too far out of town,” he began. “His parents grow grapes and berries and are part of the Seo pack.”

“Pack? He's a werewolf?”

“Yes, but don't worry. Junhwan and Eunji are good people. Dobin's dad can be a bit of a hothead; I’ve had to put him in holding once or twice, but he’s usually a nice man. His mother, Eunji, does some work at the bakery here from time to time.” He noticed your pensive stare, and said, “They’re all good people. Each and every one of them.”

“Good people can have enemies too,” you replied. “Enemies that they don’t know about, even. What do the other families do for work? Minho said the children were taken around farms?”

“The farms are the least guarded parts of Levanter,” he said, “Since they’re owned by the families and not the town. The Seo family mainly deals in grapes and berries to make into wine; The Wang family grows wheat, and the Lee family grows corn.”

“All crops where the stalks can grow high,” you added to your mental list of notes.

“Where the children can be snatched without anyone seeing them,” Chan added, nodding to himself. “I thought the same thing. It’d be harder to take them from a pig, horse or cattle farm because there’s always people patrolling those types of places. A crop of plants? Easier to walk through them and wait for the kid to go right by them instead.”

“Are there any other farm-”

“-I already told them not to let their kids go running off into their fields or in the woods,” he answered ahead of your question. “I told the kids at the schoolhouse to go straight home after school, and don’t talk to any strangers they meet on the road.”

“Did you instill a curfew?”

“I’ve considered it, but I don’t think it’ll help much. These kids are taken during the day off their families’ own land. I’ve asked a few of our local hunters and mountain men to keep an eye and an ear out for anything suspicious too.” He hesitated, and you worried what question would follow it. “Minho’s convinced it’s the gang, but it’s not them.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“And I think you already have an idea who it is.”

“The idea that magic casters use children in their rituals was a myth perpetuated by religious zealots who fear magic and everything it can do,” you said, keeping the bite out of your voice. “While innocent blood or souls are called for in a good chunk of blood magic rituals, anyone who truly knows magic and reads magic texts will know that it means an animal. Whoever this person is either is a magic user who doesn’t care about translations, or a magic user who doesn’t understand the magic they are trying to wield.”

“You say ‘magic user’. Do you mean, like, a human using magic?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Fae, demons, merfolk, some species of hybrids are all born with magic already inside of us. It’s in our bones, and in our blood. Our specialty, if we have one, is just a choice we make in using our magic. Humans…No offense, Sheriff, but humans were not meant to have magic.”

“Really?”

“That’s not a jab at humankind. I’ve met plenty of human mages and warlocks who use their gifts rightly,” you said quickly. “I mean, physically. Their bodies are not meant to hold it. Yes, they can perform little rituals and incantations and make potions, but real magic? No. It'd kill them, so they likely wear trinkets or charms that harness their power. I think whoever is taking these children plans to use them for something, otherwise you would’ve found their bodies by now.”

“Perhaps they're using them to gain more power?” He suggested.

You considered the idea. “It's a possibility.”

You both arrived at the Seo farm, where you saw a farmhouse, barn, and a chicken coop. Beyond the house, you saw rows upon rows of vineyard bushes. The barn door wide open, you saw two young men pouring fermented grapes into a barrel. Briefly you pictured a young wolf pup running around the front yard area, maybe with a toy plane or a kite while his mother watched over him from a window. The same woman who happened to be outside the house with a tub and washing board.

“Sheriff!” She gasped, dropping the board in the water and coming his way. “Sheriff, have you found him? Have you found Dobin?”

“I'm sorry, Eunji,” Chan frowned, getting off his horse and removing his hat. “But, I have someone here who'd like to speak with you about that day.”

“Who?” she looked at you. Even with the crinkles on the sides of her eyes, Mrs. Seo looked younger than you expected. Her wolf ears perked at the sight of you, and you saw her nose twitch slightly. Her claws long and black, led to furry arms underneath her linen dress. “A demon? What's a demon doing here?”

“I'm here to help, ma'am,” you answered, dismounting Summer and standing in front of her. “Sheriff Chan told me about the children in the area, and I want to help you.”

You expected her to question you like so many others, but instead she breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness! We need all the help we can get. Dobin has been missing for three weeks now, and nobody can find him.”

Worry filled her eyes and you spotted the shaking hands she wrung together. You pitied her and said, “Where was the last place you saw him?”

“Back here. Come with me.”

She led you both around the house to a backyard. You saw the typical horse and wagon tied up outside the barn in a stall, calmly eating hay. The vineyard started behind a wooden fence that bordered the entire crop, and seeing the uniform rows stretching for acres made it the perfect kidnapping spot. You imagined a small boy being snatched without anyone seeing him or his kidnapper.

“He was down there,” she brought you both behind the fence to point down a middle row, “Helping one of our pickers gather grapes. He always loves helping pick the grapes,” she smiled fondly, “We know he sneaks some, but we let him. Our picker, Taeyong, said he turned his back to put some buckets in a wagon, and when he looked back, Dobin was gone. At first,” she wrung her apron in her hands nervously, “At first, we thought the little rascal was hiding from us. You know, the way children play hide and seek? He does that from time to time and it worries me something awful,” you heard the panic in her voice even speaking about it, “But when it…it started to grow dark,” her eyes began watering and her lip trembled, “We…Oh, why did I let him go?! Something told me not to, but he was with Taeyong! He was safe! I should've been more careful! Why?! Why didn't I pay more attention?!”

Chan embraced her as she started to sob. She reminded you of the women in the villages during the war. Women who grieved for their fallen children, who begged you to find their lost sons and daughters. Their pain radiated onto yours, stinging your eyes and bringing a bout of helplessness. This warlock, whoever they were, needed to be stopped.

You nodded at Chan, then proceeded into the vineyard. Cautiously, you walked outside of the trodden path where you saw dozens of footprints having worn down the grass into the dirt. Wheel marks told you they'd just finished collecting ripe grapes for the day, and it's unlikely you will find any child size footprints here. Taking a whiff of the air, you only smelled freshly toiled earth and ripening grapes, not flesh. If you concentrated, you caught wisps of human sweat but nothing of a child. Time would’ve drowned out any proper scent. You envisioned a small boy, eight-years-old and greedily munching on grapes he'd picked off the vines. He'd have walked away from Taeyong. What could make him walk away from the safety of an adult? Standing in the middle of the row, you scanned over the vines to only see more grapes. He had plenty to pick from here, so why did he walk away?

“Taeyong,” you sensed Chan walking up behind him, “Did you ever interview him?”

“We did.”

“What's his story?”

“Exactly what Mrs. Seo just told you,” he said, “He was picking, turned around, and the boy was gone.”

That sounded too convenient. “Any idea why the boy would walk away?”

“More grapes? Berries, maybe?”

You started walking alongside the path again. Turning to face one of the hedges, you noticed breakages in the foliage.

“He went through here,” you said, seeing a break between two stalks. You then spotted small footprints still in the dirt. “Yes, yes, he went through here. Otherwise Taeyong would've seen him walking away.”

You pushed through the vines to the other side without another word. Dobin didn't stop here. He kept going. You inhaled deeply, trying to mesh through the various earthy scents for something human. Scanning the floor in the second to last row, you saw them. Embedded in the hard packed dirt were small paw prints. Four toes with a palm, they went one in front of the other through the dirt. You crouched to touch one, and realized they were cat prints.

“Do The Seos have any pets?” You asked Chan, who just broke through a brush behind you.

“A dog, some chickens and two horses.”

“No cats?”

“No cats.”

Slowly, you followed the cat prints until they went out past the fence. “He followed a cat,” you concluded, “Into the forest.”

“How did we miss these?” Chan wondered, following the prints with his eyes.

“Because they were hidden,” you answered simply. You took a few sniffs, then said, “A cat. Yeah, definitely a cat.”

“So, our kidnapper can turn into a cat,” Chan said, standing beside you at the threshold of the forest. “Clever. Most children like animals, especially children who live around them. Dobin likely saw the cat and followed it.”

The image of Dobin, innocent and cheerful, following a cat before being snatched gave you shivers. Stepping further, you let your sense of smell guide you, but sadly it wasn't as strong.

“Deputy Han,” you looked at Chan, “He's an animal hybrid.”

“Yeah, obviously.”

“How good is his sense of smell?”

“Pretty damn good.”

“Have him come here. He can help me track down this cat.”

“I'll have Eunji call the station.”

You saw a rush of adrenaline pump through him. He finally had a lead. According to his notes, Dobin, a werewolf, went missing three weeks ago; Sanghee, a garden fairy, disappeared two weeks ago, and Hyeyong, a werecat, was a week ago. Two girls. One boy. All from farm families outside of town. All of them are magical. The connections seemed too close to be a coincidence. Thinking of the timeline again, you realized they'd taken a child each week. They'd need a fourth, if they follow their pattern. Problem? You had no idea which farm they'd strike next.

****

“Alright, children, remember what Sheriff Bahng said. You're all to go home straight after school, and don't talk to strangers.”

A rustle of books and papers sounded at dismissal. Slyvia followed the other children outside of the schoolhouse, her lunch box swinging from her clawed hand and books to her other side. She saw classmates rushing ahead of her to the general goods store for sweets, while others waited for their parents to retrieve them. Her own mother had taken to coming for her since the disappearances began, but not today. She had too much work. Slyvia immediately thought of all the chores waiting for her back at the ranch. Her mother will need help with the washing, and then she has to muck out the stables. She hated cleaning the stables, but with her brother and father away in the big city, there is nobody else to do it. Walking past The White Pearl, her sensitive nose already smelled the manure.

“Hey Slyvia! Wait up!”

The reptilian child turned around to see a boy running to catch up to her. Barney Pebbles was a lumpy elf halfling boy who lived on the farm next to her family's ranch. Sandy blond hair fell behind his pointy ears, and she saw the run bring pink into his cheeks. Slyvia smiled a toothy grin at him regardless.

“Want to…Want to walk home together?” He huffed, catching his breath as he came up beside her. “My Ma says it's safer if there's two…two of us.”

“Sure!” Slyvia beamed. “Sheriff Bahng says we need to look out for one another.”

The pair continued walking together. “Did you hear about the demon?” he asked, pushing blond hair from his forehead.

“Demon? What demon?” She wouldn't deny the pang of fear that struck her. “Where?”

“My Pa was leaving the bank when he saw a demon on a big horse riding past him,” he explained as they reached the end of town, “He says she had these stumps on her head, and her horse had flaming eyes!”

“But don't they have wings? My Uncle Sithlin says some have wings.”

“I didn't think to ask,” he grew quiet, then said, “Do you think they're behind the other kids?”

“But that started happening before they came.”

Slyvia thought about her missing classmates. Dobin, a boy slimmer than a tree branch, once offered to split blueberries they found near the school. Sanghee, a garden fairy, always radiated kindness and befriended her on her first day. Hyeyoung, a werecat kitten, helped her find her bonnet when it flew off her head. Their disappearances worried everyone. Slyvia hoped her friends were okay, and that Sheriff Bahng would find them in time. Her father told her Sheriff Bahng was really smart and made of tough stuff.

The other kids said he could talk to sea creatures.

Slyvia and Barney walked down the dirt road leading out of town. They passed by merchants going in and out of town, and greeted neighbors they saw along the way. They continued talking about the newcomer, and she couldn't stop the bundle of nerves in her stomach. She remembered the stories her Pa and uncles told her about demons. They're supposed to be evil made into flesh. Thinking about a winged monster gave her jitters.

“-Mr. Edwards says that the demons he saw were super tall! As tall as trees, and they could breathe fire.”

Slyvia listened to his story while she looked up the forest lined path ahead. She saw the crossroads where it split between the town, another village and the capital city. The tall directory signs were her first milestone back home.

“Maybe they're helping whoever is taking the other kids,” she suspected. “My Nana says they use babies in their rituals, and feast on newborns.”

“You think?”

‘Meow!’

The two children stopped in their tracks at the sound. When it sounded again, they realized it came from the forest bushes nearby. Slyvia's nerves stood on end. Barney stepped closer to the threshold, bending to peek into the bushes.

“Barney…”

“It's a cat,” he said, “I think it's hurt.”

“Barney, don't go in there.”

She could smell it the closer she came. Barney, ever the animal lover, ignored her warning and walked further into the forest.

“Slyvia, come quick,” he said worriedly. “It's hurt.”

Slyvia came up behind him, and sniffed the air. Most cats smelled according to their environment. Barn cats smelled like horses and pigs; house cats smelled like coffee and linens. A wild cat carried the scent of leaves and trees. This cat didn't have any of those. She walked behind Barney, her heart starting to race.

“Barney Pebbles, you come back here,” she said, panic building in her voice. “We're not supposed to wander off.”

“It might be really hurt, Slyvia,” he replied over his shoulder.

Feet crunching the forest floor, Slyvia tried peeking into the shrubs from behind him, but couldn't see anything.

“Come here, kitty,” Barney crouched in front of it, “It's okay. I won't hurt you. Hey! Wait!”

The sound of rustled leaves told her the cat scurried from the bushes. Barney went after it, and Slyvia followed. A downward wind brought a scent to her flat nostrils. Not a cat. Not a dog. Not a bird, rabbit or wolf. She gasped. It was human. She saw a flash of black and white dart behind one of the trees, Barney only a few paces behind.

“Barney Pebbles! Come back here now!”

“Calm down, Slyvia. It's only a-AH!”

“Gotcha!��

“Barney!”

Slyvia cried out his name as an arm grabbed him from behind a tree. She froze in place, her breath becoming haggard and drying her throat. She could hear Barney struggling, and a man’s voice drowning him out. The sound of snapping twigs came from her right, and she spotted them. Three men wearing red armbands stepped out from behind the trees, malice on their faces. Slyvia ran. Her heart pounded in her chest with each foot step. Panic put them right on her heels, and she beat the ground harder.

“Get her!” She heard the silvery voice say from the distance. “Don't let her get away!”

The young chameleon ran through dense shrubbery, the tiny branches snagging on her dress and scratching her colorful scales. She'd do what her Papa taught her. With a quick glance back, Slyvia dove into a nearby bush and closed her eyes. She envisioned herself turning from her usual pale green and yellow to a dark brown. She brought her knees to her chest and tucked her head and tail inwards. The footsteps charging after her came right beside her bush, and she stuffed her face into her dress to muffle her breathing.

“Where'd she go?” One of the men asked. “She can't have gone far!”

“If Maurice hears we lost her he'll burn us alive!”

“Ah shoot, Suho, does it really matter? That was a girl, and Maurice only needed a boy.”

“She can go blabbing to the sheriff and his deputies,” the other man retorted. “We're so close, Baekhyun. I can taste it now. If we help that old man with his ritual, he'll give us whatever we want. That means gold and women!”

“I…I don't know, Suho,” a higher voice said uncertainly. “They're kids. I thought we didn't harm youngins.”

“We're not harming them. Maurice says they'll be fine. It'll only hurt for a little bit.”

“You believe that?”

“Of course, I do. Now, you go that way; Chanyeol, you go that way and I'll check down here. She can't have gone too far.”

Slyvia heard the men split up. The last image of Barney being lifted off the ground came to her, and she shivered. The men, whoever they were, also kidnapped the other children. She needed to tell someone quickly. When the coast was clear, Slyvia gingerly climbed up the tree behind her. Her fingers sticking to the branches, the child moved from one tree to another with ease. The Seo family lived not too far from this spot; she can go to them to call the law. She needed to find Sheriff Bahng. He needed to know that Barney is in trouble.

****

Han and Minho appeared some time later, the pair having appeared through a portal.

“I thought it'd be faster than horses,” Minho explained, closing it with a wave of his hand. “What have you found?”

“There's paw prints,” you told Han as you both walked to the blocked off spot in the dirt, “But no animal scent.”

“You think it might be a hybrid?”

“It doesn't smell like an animal or hybrid,” you said. “It's…I don't know. Chan said you have the best nose, so I thought you could track what I can't.” You stopped right by the forest entrance, “They go about three or four yards into the woods, then it goes cold.”

Han nodded, “It shouldn't be that hard. If we can't track the cat,” he pulled out a small handkerchief from his pocket, “We can track Dobin.”

“What's that?” You eyed the blue and white cloth in his hand, seeing grape vines stitched into the border.

“Dobin's head scarf,” he answered. “He wears it when he goes into the field. His mother thought it might help.”

You watched him take a deep inhale of the scarf, closing his eyes in concentration. Soft black nose wiggling, tail twitching at the new scent, Han immediately glanced up to the tree ahead. He started walking without saying anything to anyone, sniffing occasionally as he went.

“You think it's a human shifted into a cat then, huh?” Minho asked, coming up beside you.

“I can't pick up anything to the contrary,” you told him. “My sense of smell isn't very strong here. He might find out what I can't.”

Minho grew quiet while Han stuck himself into a bush. “I was looking through my library at the station. I keep it there for research purposes and all that, you know? I thought while you and Chan checked out the different locations, Han and I could try finding any magic rituals that require sacrifices.”

“Psh, that's a lot. What did you find?”

“That the shadow casters of yesteryear really enjoyed sacrificing things to ancient gods,” he snorted. “But I did come across a few rituals of interest. One in particular intrigued me.”

“What was it?”

“The Secrets of the Mystics by Arnold B. Miller described this group of ancient mystics who called upon gods to sustain their power,” he began. “They regularly sacrificed people to a god named Yuth’ik. I couldn’t find anything that gave any background on Yuth’ik other than that he was defeated by a warlock named Vivian Moon and several others centuries ago. They banished him into another realm, where he’s likely laid dormant for thousands of years. If the Hook clan are really working for someone, it’s someone who wants to release Yuth’ik.”

“For what purpose? More power?”

“Most likely.” He gave a slight scoff and shook his head, “If they’d gone to an actual magical being, we’d tell them what a stupid idea that is. I will say this: I pity whoever this person is.”

“Why?”

“The ancient gods weren’t known for their kindness,” he said. “A lot of the stories in the book mentioned the summoner having to give something in return.”

“Four souls isn’t enough?”

“That’s just to open the cage. If Yuth’ik really is a god, they'll expect gifts. The person behind this doesn’t understand that once you summon a god or a demon or any powerful being, you’re their servant for life,” he looked over at you, dark eyes serious and stern, “For life.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing. Shaking your head, you said, “Will they ever learn?”

A part of you expected Minho to take your words offensively; he does live amongst humans, and is close to them. Yet, you heard him snort and say, “Never.”

The three of you traveled further into the forest. Han sniffed every bush, tree and flower patch that carried a wisp of Dobin’s scent. You admitted his sense of smell must be incredible if he can follow a trace three weeks old. His bushy trail flicked and wiggled whenever he caught a particularly strong scent. Both you and Minho kept your eyes on the trees around you, searching for the slightest change or movement.

Underneath the canopy of leaves and sunlight, you took in the vibrancy of the world around you. Nothing grew in The Mar. No trees, flowers or grass thrived there; the only animals around were the vicious beasts lurking around the mountain ranges and rocky canyons. A cool breeze wafted through the trees, brushing your cheeks and hair, and you inhaled deeply. Why would anyone wish to destroy such a glorious place? Nor’goth’s armies tore down trees, burned wheat fields, and polluted rivers to keep the mortals from feeding themselves. He believed cutting off their supplies left them powerless, but the people you’d met proved the opposite.

“Did you guys hear that?” Han sprung up from the newest bush, whipping his head side to side in a panic.

“Hear what?” Minho asked, irritably. “Jisung, we’ve been walking for ages. Have you found anything yet-”

“-Shush!” he interrupted him, putting a hand up for silence.

The two of you watched the hybrid carefully walk sideways, his head pointed up into the trees. A feeling of apprehension came over you when he stopped underneath one of the thicker trees. The smooth motion of an arrow being notched caught your attention, and you turned to see Minho’s bow armed and ready to loosen. Han braced his hands up against the rough bark, and sniffed. The immediate image of an enemy dropping onto him had you withdrawing your sword from your back.

“Jisung…” Minho whispered harshly, but Han ignored him.

“Slyvia?” Han said, confused. “Honey, what are you doing up there?”

Both you and Minho shook when a figure jumped down from the tree onto their feet. Minho unleashed his arrow, but thankfully it stuck into the tree inches above the child’s head. Skin the color of the trees, the chameleon-hybrid’s scales gradually changed to light green and yellow in seconds. Bulbous, beady eyes were on either side of her nose, full of fear and worry.

“Deputy Han!” she cried, immediately wrapping herself around his middle, “Deputy Han, you have to help me!”

Han bent down to her level right as you and Minho reached her. Her heavy breaths making her chest rise and fall, you saw tears spilling from her black eyes and shoulders shuddering in every sob.

“It’s Barney!” she sobbed, voice cracking at the end. “They took him! The bad people took him! You have to help him! Sheriff Bahng has to get him!”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Han said, hands rubbing her shaking shoulders, “Just take a deep breath, honey. You mean Barney Pebbles? Fred’s little boy?”

“Yes! We were walking home together, and he-and he saw this cat in the bushes and I told him, sir, I told him to not wander off but he did! Then, we chased it-it- in-into th-the woods and this bad man picked him up and these other men started chasing me! We have to save him! We have to!” she fell back into Han’s arms, sobbing into his shoulder as his eyes met Minho’s.

“Where did this happen, Slyvia?” Minho asked next, bending down to look into her face. “How far?”

“That way,” she pointed behind him. “I don-don’t know where!”

“Alright, alright, you go with Deputy Han and talk to the sheriff,” he said to her gently. “My friend and I will go look for Barney.”

Slyvia took one glance at you, then buried her face in Han’s neck. You expected that reaction. Crouching beside Minho, you said, “We’re going to find your friend, and bring him back, okay?” She flinched when you met her eyes again.

“You’re a demon…” she said, voice muffled by Han’s shirt collar.

“I am,” you nodded, standing with Han and Minho, “And you want to know what that means?”

“You’ll eat my friends!”

“No,” you giggled, “It means bad guys are scared of me. The bad people who took your friend will hand him right back to me if they know what’s good for them.”

This seemed to calm her slightly, though not enough for her to look at you. “I’ll take her to Chan,” Han said. “We can get in contact with her folks, and Barney’s parents.”

“I’ll give him a heads up.”

Minho reached into a pouch on his belt and withdrew dark blue dust. Putting a pinch between his fingers, he blew it out into the air. Rather than disappear or fall to the ground, the glowing swirl of dust stayed in the air.

“Chan, we found Slyvia Eleon. She says Barney Pebbles was just grabbed. Han’s bringing her to you; YN and I are going to scout the area.” With another puff of air, the dust cloud quickly darted away from you and down back to the farm. “We should go to where he was taken,” he said to you, “We could check it out while their footprints and scent are fresh.”

“Good idea.”

“Slyvia,” he addressed the little girl again, “Sweetie, do you remember any details about where he’d been taken? A tree or flower or a specific place?”

Slyvia turned her head, sniffling, and thought for a moment. “It was near the direction sign. I remember because I live past it.”

“On which side?”

“The…left. The left side of the road.”

“Alright, thank you, Slyvia,” he petted her head, “Don’t worry. My friend and I are going to find Barney.”

“They’re going to kill him,” she broke back into a sob. “They’re going to kill him and eat him!”

“Nobody is killing and eating anyone,” Han assured her, rubbing her back as he began walking away. “Mrs. Seo just came back from the bakery too. She can give you a snack and you can tell Sheriff Bahng…”

Watching Han take the girl away, you looked to Minho, “Do you know the sign she’s talking about?”

“I do. It’s far though. Take my hand.”

You didn’t question it. Taking his hand, you watched the dark fae aim his outstretched palm to the ground. Glowing and sparkling a bright purple, you recognized the spiraling and crisp winds of a teleportation circle. In a flash of light, you and Minho left your spot in the forest. You could feel yourself being thrown into a tornado, spinning and spinning through gushes of wind, before landing on soft grass.

“Here we are,” Minho said, removing the circle with a closed fist.

You found yourself on the dirt road a mile from town. On the crossroad corner stood a tall post with different directions on it. ‘Levanter Bay 1 mile’ ‘Gold Rush 5 miles’ ‘Sunwind 10 miles’ went in various directions.

“Slyvia said they saw the men down towards town,” Minho started walking in that direction. “Their footprints will still be in the dirt; we can follow those.”

“This Barney kid,” you caught up with his quick strides, “What do you know about him?”

“A bit simple-minded, but a really nice kid,” he answered. “His family owns a pig farm. He loves animals, so it’s no surprise he followed a cat into the woods despite all sense.”

“They took him from off the road instead of a farm,” you noted. “They’re getting desperate. This ritual of theirs must be happening soon.”

“Yuth’ik’s ritual can happen at any time. They just need the four souls and the right words,” he said. “They need all four in order to open the portal to let him through.”

“That explains the rush. It’s risky to be snatching kids from the side of a somewhat busy road,” you nodded at a passing wagon, “Someone might’ve seen the two of them going off the path.”

“Perhaps, but if they went deep enough, nobody would’ve heard them.”

You both stopped when you reached two sets of clear footprints going off into the grass. Minho and you walked along them, and that’s where you picked up a scent. Barney Pebbles must sweat pretty heavily if you could pick it up so quickly. It started by one of the trees at the edge, then carried off through a large bush. When you looked inside, you saw tiny prints in the dirt and a breakage in the leaves.

“The cat hid in here,” you told Minho, “And he followed it.”

“There are more prints over here,” Minho called from nearby. You saw him standing between two large trees, looking at spots behind them. “The shapeshifter had accomplices. Two or three by the looks of the sets.”

“What were they planning to do? Ambush the kid?”

“To make sure he didn’t escape,” he examined one of the trunks with his hand.

Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew a small piece of blue chalk. Well, at least you thought it was chalk. Minho started rubbing the blue stick onto the thick brown bark as one might a piece of paper. You came up to him, and saw the blue chalk having outlined handprints along the edge of the trunk. You counted two large hands on one side, then two more on the other.

“Two over here,” Minho went and did the same to the other tree, “And one more over here. Three culprits.”

“What is this?” you asked him, wiping some of the chalk with your finger.

“It’s a little invention of mine,” he said, putting the chalk away. “I enchanted a few pieces of chalk so I can lift prints. It’s damn helpful when investigating scenes. I got a fingerprint off one of them,” he said, putting a thin piece of film into the pouch, “I can cross check it back at the station. If it’s one of the Hook Clan, we’ll know who.”

“Intriguing,” you nodded, “I never heard of an enchantment that can do that.”

“I like to experiment with magic,” he shrugged. You both walked back to the scene of the kidnapping, “Magic is so versatile and fluid. It can be used for anything, if one puts their mind to it.”

“That bit of powder you used to contact Chan,” you said, “You invented that too?”

“I wish,” he said, “It’s one of the ways fairies communicate away from home. Fairy dust,” he petted the leather pouch. “Can transport messages or people from one place to another.”

“Just think happy thoughts?” you joked, remembering the stories.

Minho laughed, “No, no happy thoughts required. Just a deep breath before you teleport.” He stopped at the spot where you smelled Barney and his kidnapper the strongest. “What can you smell?”

“Male,” you sniffed the air, and let the aroma linger in your nose, “At least 30-years-old. He’d been standing right here,” you pressed yourself against the tree. You put your nose to the trunk, catching a bit of his sweat on the skin. Something then threw you off, “Coal.”

“What?”

“Coal,” you sniffed the spot again, “Or something like it. He had some sort of dust on him.”

“The clan sometimes hang out in abandoned mines or lumber yards,” Minho said, putting his fingerprint dust on the bark next to you. “That might be where it comes from.”

“We should tell Chan and Han,” you advised, “Then we can see what they learned from the little girl.”

“Alright.”

He took your hand a second time, and opened up a transport circle once more. In another howling winds, you left the wilderness for the hustle and bustle of Levanter Bay. Stumbling forward a moment, you caught yourself in a deep breath. Hardly anyone appeared bothered by the demon and fairy who’d just popped up in the middle of the town square.

“Minho,” Changbin came down the steps of the inn, wiping his hands with his apron, “Is it true? Was Barney taken?”

“News travels fast, huh?” he quipped.

“His dad is in here,” he nodded to the inn behind him, “Hollering about someone taking his boy and that he was gonna hunt the bastard himself.”

“Oh god, no,” Minho groaned. “Don’t tell me he went into the woods?”

“No, no, I talked him down, but he’s more pissed off than Honey when she can’t catch any fish,” he said. “You didn’t find him, did you?”

“We didn’t, but we have leads,” he answered. “Just…make sure they don’t do anything stupid.”

“People know the clan is involved,” Changbin said seriously. “Fred was talking about going to the Brandstone Mine south of here.”

“The mine?” Minho looked over at you, then back at Changbin, “Why there?”

“Rumor has it that Red Hook and his boys are up there,” he answered, looking between the both of you. “It’s only a matter of time before someone takes it upon themselves to take them out.”

“That’s a dumb idea,” you snapped. “It can cause them, or whoever they’re working for, to do something rash.”

Like kill their captives and dispose of their corpses. Minho was about to give Changbin instructions when a voice called out from behind him, “Lee! Hey, Lee!”

A big burly man with a thick blond beard and short blond hair came storming down the steps towards him. From his red face, you could tell he’d been ranting for a good while now. Minho sighed irritably, “You go to Chan. I’ll handle Fred.”

You nodded, and watched Minho reach Fred first. Fred, standing several inches above Minho, started shouting right away. You thought Minho might flinch at the sudden rush of anger, but the deputy remained cool. Deciding Minho and Changbin could handle the distressed parent, you walked ahead back to the station. Inside, you found a group of people sitting in the middle of the room. Slyvia sat on the lap of a woman who could only be her mother, and another chameleon hybrid who must be her father. A slender woman with blond hair was beside them, anxiously listening to everything they were saying. Barney’s mother, no doubt. Chan and Han sat in front of the girl, talking to her softly and gently.

“-Did you see what they looked like?” Chan asked her. “Anything particularly different or noticeable about them?”

“No,” she shook her head. “I was hiding.”

“Could you hear what they were talking about?”

“They said that they’d get burned alive for not getting me,” she said. “But the other man said they didn’t need me.”

Slowly, you approached and put the pieces of her story together. “Did they say any names?”

“Suho, Baekhyun and Maurice.”

“Kim Junmyeon,” Chan grunted, “How’d I know he’d be involved?”

“And Baekhyun too,” added Han.

“Who are they?” Slyvia’s mother asked.

“Part of the Red Hook clan,” Chan told her. “We think they’ve been taking the kids. But, Maurice…I don’t know any Maurice around here. Jisung?”

Han thought for a moment, then shook his head. “Nope, nobody comes to mind. Does that name mean anything to you?” he asked the parents, and they shook their heads.

The moment Slyvia’s parents spotted you, they gasped. Her mother clutched her tightly, while the male stood in front of them. You didn’t make any move towards them, instead deciding to keep your distance.

“That must be who they’re working for,” you finally spoke up. “Minho and I found four sets of prints on the trees near where he was taken.”

“That’s a demon!” the man said, “Sheriff, you got a demon in here!”

“She’s a friend, Salazar,” Chan insisted, standing up to put himself between you and the father. “A friend.”

“That’s a damn demon! There ain’t no demon that's friendly! I’ve seen what those things can do! I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s the one taking all the children!”

“I’m only here to help, sir,” you said from your spot.

‘Their kind will never accept us! They know nothing of respect or obedience! They must be subdued!’

You shut out Nor’goth’s voice from your head. “Minho and I found some information that backs your daughter’s story,” you said.

“She’s his niece,” Barney’s mother said, stepping in front of him to address you. When she tucked hair behind her ear, you saw a point at the curve. A Sunwind Elf. “You’re here to…to help us?” you heard the disbelief in her voice. She looked at your horn stumps, then back to your face. “With Barney?”

“Yes, ma’am. I take it you’re his mother?”

“I am,” she nodded. You noticed her puffy eyes, and trembling lips. “Slyvia says he was taken by a shapeshifter.”

“We believe so,” Chan answered.

“Your husband is a human, isn’t he? I saw him outside,” you asked her, coming closer.

“He is,” she nodded. “I’m from Sunwind. What does that have to do with anything?”

“So, your son is a halfling,” you looked to Chan, “Dobin is a wolf pup. Sanghee is a garden fairy, and Hyeyoung is a werecat. They’re all children with magic inside of them.” You turned to Minho’s desk where you found a book left open. When you turned a page, you saw a chapter titled: ‘Yuth’ik: God of the Trees’. Rather than tell Chan that these magical children are likely being used for their magic, you said, “There has to be a connection, right?”

Chan glanced at the open book, then at you, “Yes, there might be.”

“It was those damn bandits in the woods,” Mrs. Pebbles snapped. “They did this. They must have. Who else is vile enough to kidnap innocent children? On a count of them being magical, no less!”

“Them, and someone they’re working for,” Chan told her, putting up a hand to calm her. “Wilma, go find Fred. Lord knows he’s bound to do something crazy.”

“Too late, Sheriff,” Han said with a deadpan voice as he looked out the window.

“What?”

Everyone converged by the window where a group of people on horses started kicking up dirt. Their calls and cries mixed together, and you knew what happened by their angry faces.

They started a damn mob.

“Damnit!” Chan cursed, grabbing a rifle from beside the door and rushing outside. With all of you behind him, he called out to the crowd, “Hey, hey, hey! What the hell's going on here?! Minho!”

Minho and Changbin tried closing off the horsemen, but there were too many. Fred Pebbles, sat upon a white palomino, glared down at Chan.

“They got my boy, Sheriff!” he said, voice hoarse and deep. “Those bastards have my boy!”

“We know, but there’s a way to go about this!” Chan shouted over the ruckus, “Hey now! Hey!”

“Pebbles, damnit man!” Mayor Wallace appeared from the mercantile with a few other customers, “What are you doing?!”

“I'm gonna make this all right!”

“Like hell you are!” the mayor blustered. “We are civilized people! Not animals!”

“So what are we supposed to do?! Let those filthy sons of bitches take our children?!”

“Of course not, but Fred, riling people up and going out there like this can make stuff worse!” Mayor Wallace wiped his brow and said, “Let's all go into the town hall and discuss this-”

“-I'm tired of listening to y'all. You ain't don't nothing-”

Chan cocked his rifle and fired it into the air. The loud gunblast caught everyone’s attention, some of the people ducking and others whipping around angrily. The crowd focused on him, Chan walked up the steps of The White Pearl, and he glared down at them.

“What the hell’s gotten into all of you? I thought we were people, not animals!”

“They keep taking our children, Chan!” one woman shouted from her horse. “Somebody’s gotta do something!”

“I understand that, but if we went around hanging every single person we thought was guilty, we’d be no better than them,” he remarked. “I know you’re all worried. I know you’re all hurting, but we need to be smart about how we handle this. Red Hook might have his morals-”

“-Horse shit!-

“-But the person he’s working for doesn’t,” he continued. “Now, thanks to Slyvia and our bounty hunter, we’ve discovered some new information.”

“Such as?” Mayor Wallace asked.

“They’re operating in a coal mine,” Minho said, getting up onto the porch beside Chan. “Anybody know any abandoned mines around here?”

“There’s the Willfire mine up north,” the woman on the horse called out. “My husband used to work there before the war.”

“The old Brandstone mine too,” said Mayor Wallace. “But, that was gold, not coal.”

“The coal could be dirt,” suggested Changbin, the woodland dwarf. “If they’re living in there, they likely got the dirt on their clothes and hands.”

“It’s a long shot,” an elderly man said from atop his horse, “But they could also be at my family’s mine. It’s gotten run over by spiders, but if they could’ve exterminated them before moving in.”

You shuddered thinking about the large arachnids.

“Alright,” Chan nodded at their answers, “I say we split into groups and search these mines while they’re off guard. Deputy Han will lead a group to the Brandstone mine; Deputy Lee will lead one to the Willfire mine, and I’ll take a group up to Mr. Choi’s mine. If you find them, do not engage,” he said these words firmly, “We need to catch them off guard. Whoever is helping them will not hesitate to kill anyone who opposes them. We need to be vigilant and patient.”

“And I will stay with the rest of the town here,” Mayor Wallace said to Chan. “Changbin and I will organize something for the children and the families. You know, keep everybody calm during this whole thing.”

“Sounds good…”

“They’re going after magical children,” you whispered to Minho and Han. “They plan to use their magic to open the gates.”

“Makes sense,” Minho nodded.

“Those poor babies,” Han frowned worriedly.

“We need to find them quickly,” you told them. “Now that they have four children, they can start their ritual.”

“Seungmin! Seungmin, where are you?” Chan’s words interrupted you, as he looked through the crowd.

“Right here, Sheriff.”

Dressed in a pin-striped shirt with an apron around his waist, Seungmin fixed his glasses on his nose and looked up at Chan. Just by the golden eyes, black wolf’s nose, and furry pointed ears, you realized Seungmin was a werewolf.

“Where’s your pack at?” Chan addressed him.

“Likely back home at the den,” he answered. “We’ve been looking ever since little Dobin was taken. He’s one of us, you know. I’ll get word to my father about your search parties.”

“I’ll call on the wisps!”

A young fairy came floating up to the steps. Black hair in front of his face, the garden fairy’s bright green wings batted as he landed on the floor. You noticed he held onto the medical bag across his body. “They can fly faster than light and move between the different parties if they find something. The trees may have information too.”

“The trees?” the words left your mouth before you could stop them.

“They don’t say much,” he said, “But they will speak to me.”

“Jeongin,” Han said to you, “Garden fairy. He’s also our doctor, believe it or not.”

“And who the hell is she?!” another woman in the crowd asked.

“That’s a demon!” the elderly miner gasped, taking a few steps back. A couple others did the same, but you did not react to their shock. “Sheriff, Sheriff, did you know you got a demon next to you?”

“I do, and she’s been extremely helpful since she arrived this morning,” Chan said.

“I told you,” Mayor Wallace hissed at him. “I said they wouldn't take kindly to her.”

“How do you know she ain’t got anything to do with this?” asked Fred, taking a few steps back on his horse. “Their kind eat children!”

“We don’t eat human flesh,” you rolled your eyes, annoyed. “I don’t know what human started that rumor, but demons who still hold up to our code never harm the young.” You briefly recalled the children who’d get lost in the afterlife, and end up in the terrifying Mar. “I’m only here to help,” you said.

“For some gold, I expect!”

“And because whoever is doing this is harming children, and children are sacred to my kind,” you replied sharply. “Their souls are pure and precious.” Whenever a lost soul passed through your gates, a demon always took them back over to the heavenly cloud world of Divinity.

“Get your heads out of the sand,” Changbin said to the group, “She’s good people.”

“How would you know?” the old man asked.

“Because I've met dangerous people before, and she's dangerous in a different kind of way.”

“That's just her demon magic working on you!”

“Alright, if you don't believe me then let's get someone else's opinion.”

Changbin whistled through two fingers, and from behind the inn came an enormous grizzly bear. Far too big to be a normal bear, you suspected. Honey came right up to Changbin’s feet, sniffing for a scrap of food. It was when she smelled your scent that she moved over to you. Yes, it was silly of you to reach out to a bear, but you put the back of your hand to her wet nose. She gruffed once, nudging your hand with her nose, and then putting her head underneath it for a few scratches.

“Honey’s never been wrong about anyone before,” Changbin gave them a satisfied smile.

“Plus, she’s a war hero,” Minho said, “She killed Nor’goth.”

The name sent a ripple of uneasiness through the crowd. Even you, who defeated him, couldn't help shifting at the words. Skin hard as rocks and dark purple Nor'goth towered several feet above anyone else. Burning orange eyes stared at you with hate as you challenged him. If it weren't for your allies, you may have died trying to defend your people and the mortal world.

‘I will not suffer your insolence anymore, Multak! Prepare to meet your doom!”

“Is that true?” One man said with wide eyes.

“It is,” he answered for you. “I don't know about you all,” he said, going down the steps, “But I think it's pretty handy having a demon around.”

An agreement mumbled amongst the townspeople, but you didn't care. “Chan, we're running out of time,” you hissed at him. “The longer we wait, the closer they get to completing their ritual.”

“To do what?”

“What else? Summon a being they have no business summoning,” you said. “It is going to blow up in their faces, and a lot of people can get hurt if we don't get a move on.”

“Alright,” he nodded.

All the groups split evenly, everyone mounted their horses and began riding out of town. You looked around for Summer, realizing you'd left her at the Seo farm. No matter. You whistled a three note tune, and a burst of fire came from across the square. Summer dashed through the portal, charging past other people and horses to get right in front of you. She kicked the ground, head swishing as the commotion riled her up. Taking her reins, you held her still before mounting her.

“YN!” Chan rode up to you on a white horse, “You’re with me. We’re checking the Choi mine.”

You gulped thickly, “Isn’t that the, um, spider one?”

“It is…” he then smirked and your cheeks burned, “Is our strong fire demon afraid of itty bitty spiders?”

“They are not ‘itty bitty’ and they’re gross!”

His laugh made you grumble, and you charged ahead of him. Summer snorted, making you kick her sides lightly. “Hey, I didn’t pick on you about the snakes.”

Running behind the group headed to the last old mine, you already pictured the eight-legged creatures likely waiting at the end. The old man mentioned that they’ve likely been driven out by the gang, so you clung onto that. Your skin crawled at the idea of having to fight ginormous spiders when a flash of white caught your attention. Chan’s horse, snowy white, came up to you once again. You got a good look at the animal, seeing the shimmer in its white coat and strands of silver streaked through its mane. Rather than fully black, the beast’s eyes glimmered a dark green color.

How did Chan get his hands on a sea steed?

“Where’d you get it?” you asked over the clopping feet.

“What?”

“Your horse! It’s a sea steed! How’d you get it?”

He gave you a proud smile, “My Ma gave it to me!”

“Your Ma?!”

“She's a mermaid! You should meet her sometime!” He added.

“Your mother is a mermaid?!”

“Yeah, from the Southern Sea,” he said. “My Pa worked as a fisherman, and that's how they met.”

“You're a halfling then?”

“That's usually what people call me.” He then turned to you with a grin, “Not all of us halflings are so obvious.”

“What can you do then? Besides gathering search parties and solving crimes,” you smirked at him. For once, you're not the one under scrutiny.

“Nothing extraordinary really,” he shrugged. “I used to sing whenever I worked on my dad's boat, since the fish would always come to me. But then I felt bad about luring them to their deaths so I stopped. I can breathe underwater…I could live in Hydrus if I wanted.”

“Hydrus?”

“It's the merfolk capital of the world,” he said. “My Ma sits on the city council. She's a healer there and has her own apothecary. She told me I could always come live with her, but I prefer being on land.”

“How come?”

“My Pa mostly,” he answered honestly. “He needs me more than her. She has her family down there; he's only got me and our dog. My sister lives with her, but she and my cousin come to visit sometimes.”

“Your sister?”

“Hannah. She's got more mermaid than human, so she struggles living on land. Do you…Do demons have families?”

You gave it a thought. “In a way?” You decided, “We have our clan, which is a family. The Keepers are our parents, and everyone your age is a brother or sister; anyone older is an aunt or uncle.”

“Are you allowed to visit home or are you banished or something like that?”

You shook your head, “I can go if I wish. My horns…” you hesitated, “They're what I traded to live here, but I'm not exiled like some of my kin.”

“So, in a way, you fought against your family.”

“I did. I wasn't happy about it, but I did what I had to do.”

You pictured the demons you fought against during your ride. Brothers and sisters, standing on the other side of the field, severed their ties with the Shadowlands and became Nor’goth’s servants. It hurt you to fight them; you'd grown alongside most of them, and saw them as family. But, Sakmarth said those who break their vows are no longer part of the demon realm. You found that easy to understand but hard to carry out.

The Choi mines happened to be several miles outside of town. Dusk began to set by the time you reached the outskirts of the mine. The trees around gave almost no sunlight. Whatever light did come through broke through the dark leaves in the canopies. The same canopy where you saw the thin, silver strands of webs. Cobwebs hung from the dark branches and stuck to the tree roots at the bottom. Apprehension settled into your stomach seeing them so high. Already, you felt their pincers snapping close to you and their furry legs skittering when they rushed around. However, seeing Chan and the other townspeople getting off their horses, you knew showing fear would disappoint them. You are Multak, fire demon and vanquisher of Nor'goth. You can't be afraid of anything.

“Mr. Choi,” Chan looked at the wizened old man coming over to him, “What direction do we take from here?”

“Down this dirt path to the end,” he pointed at the path leading further inside. “My family sold the land when those damned tentaculars started nesting there. If the gang's anywhere, it is right here.”

Chan nodded and let him take the lead. He and several others kept their pistols and rifles ready as you carefully moved through the dead forest. One false step or loud twig might send a signal to any beasts in the area. You kept your hands firmly wrapped around the sword handle, doing your best to not tremble. You peered between thick patches of webbing; tricks of light and shadows created long legs and thick bodies creeping behind the silvery webs. There’d be no way for the gang to survive in arachnid infested woods; they’d be cocooned and devoured in minutes. Their warlock must have cleared them out; you might run into nothing along the way. At least, that’s how you comforted yourself.

“I thought demons weren't scared of anything,” Chan teased.

“I'm not scared.”

“Then why are you shaking?”

“Am not.”

“Don't worry, YN. If a spider comes, I'll kill it for you.”

You rolled your eyes, but the image left you feeling nauseous. Going deeper into the dense forest, you began hearing small cracks of twigs or rustling of leaves on the ground. The clicking and clacking of the tentacular species pinched your ears; you thought you might throw up right there. There used to be dozens back home, and you always avoided their nests. This forest is their ideal environment.

“Wait,” Mr. Choi whispered, putting up a hand, “I see lights. Yeah, they're right there.”

A glowing orange light broke the darkness of the forest on your left. Everyone turned to see it hiding behind dense bushes and trees. Anxiousness stiffened your bones when you saw thicker webs in the trees above you. They must have scared them off not long ago if the webbing appeared so fresh.

“Fred,” Chan called the burly man, “You take Ryu, Harold and Donny and flank them on the right. Mr. Choi, Samantha, and Jenny will take them from the left.”

“And you, Sheriff?” the woman, Samantha, asked.

“YN and I will draw their attention.”

You hardly heard Chan’s orders. You didn’t keep your eyes off the trees for a moment. Phantom hissing and clicking sent shivers up your spine, leaving you in a cold sweat that wet your palms. Back home, clearing out spider nests or infestations was left to the newest soldiers. Shadowland spiders looked nothing like mortal ones. Their venom burned through flesh and bone, and their pinchers stabbed like sharp knives. You hated them. You pushed them from your memory as Chan encouraged you forward. Steeling yourself, you tried keeping your fears deep in your gut instead of on your face. You’re supposed to be a big, scary demon. You are a demon of the fire clan, a warrior forged from rock and flame; not a baby afraid of a few pests.

Very large pests

Carefully, you both walked towards the firelight. Chan kept his rifle pointed ahead and you kept your sword at the ready. The sounds of chatter and laughter caught your ears first. When you and Chan reached a small bundle of bushes, you crouched down to peek through the foliage.

Around a campfire sat four men. One of them, broad and wide, turned sausages in a skillet over the fire while another, slender and narrow, poured more ale from a barrel nearby. One lounged back against large sacks, his hat over his face and a fourth sat on the floor arranging coins into small piles.

“I got twenty gold here, Suho,” the one with the gold said. “That’s five pieces each. I thought you said Maurice would make us rich! This ain’t rich!”

“The real money’s coming soon,” Suho, turning sausages, said. “After he’s done with those kids, he’ll hand over the rest.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Idiots…” you whispered to yourself. The realization came to you right away, and you shook your head. “They’re the gifts.”

“Gifts?”

“In order to appease Yuth’ik, the summoner has to offer gifts to the god. This warlock did not really need lackeys to kidnap children; they could have done it themselves. They hired these bandits to then hand them over to Yuth’ik.”

“A double-cross…Suho wouldn’t like that.” He thought for a moment, then said, “Follow my lead.”

Chan stepped out through the bushes first, casually walking into the light. You went right after him, eyes sticking to your surroundings. From the rocky face behind them, you guessed they must not be far from the mine entrance.

“Evening, y’all,” Chan said in a friendly tone, “How’re you doing tonight?”

The four men scrambled to their feet. They each reached for a nearby weapon to hold up, but you noticed the shock in their eyes. Only Suho appeared calm and easy.

“Evening, Sheriff,” he replied in a casual tone, “We were just enjoying a nice campfire, some ale and the night time breeze. Care for some?”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to pass. I’m here on sheriff’s business tonight.”

“Is that so?” Suho glanced at his members, who sneered back at him. “That’s a shame,” he cocked his pistol, “Because I’m in the mood for bandit’s business tonight.”

“Do you happen to know anyone named ‘Maurice’, Suho?” Chan took a step forward, unafraid of the gun pointed at him.

“Nah, don't ring a bell, I’m afraid,” Suho shook his head.

“Hm, that’s strange. A little reptile hybrid said you might, and a few friends of mine have been looking high and low for him.” You heard his friendly, polite tone turn serious. “I thought The Hook clan didn’t harm children.”

“We don’t,” he said.

“But the person you’re working for does, and that’s okay by you?”

“I don’t work for anybody but myself,” Suho said.

“Stop with the games, Junmyeon,” Chan cut across him. “I know you and your gang have been kidnapping children from the town. You might be a thieving, no-good outlaw, but I never thought you’d be the type to hurt kids.”

“We don’t have anything to do with that.”

“We have your fingerprints on the trees where Barney Pebbles was taken,” he said. “Who’s Maurice and what is he doing with the kids?”

“I don’t know a ‘Maurice’.”

“Junmyeon…these children could be in serious danger. They’re innocent, and I know you wouldn’t let some psychotic warlock kill them.”

“Again, Sheriff, sorry to disappoint you, but we don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Do you even know the man you're working for, Junmyeon?”

“I only work for myself, so yeah, I do know the man I work for.”

“Whoever he's summoning tonight is going to expect human sacrifices…and it's not the kids.”

“What'd you mean?” Asked the shortest one, wide eyed and worried.

“He needs the kids to open the portal, but he has to have gifts to offer the tree god thing. I'm guessing that's you and your boys. Now,” he took another step, “You can tell us where he is and we stop him or you become an ancient being's dinner.”

You heard a small twig snap from somewhere behind you, and every nerve in your body stood on edge. It could either be a friend or a foe. A big, furry, hungry foe. Up in the sky, you saw the russet colors slowly fading to black. You’re running out of time.

“I still don't know what you're talking about,” Suho declared, but not as strongly.

“-Junmyeon,” Chan came closer, “Don’t make this harder on yourself. Tell me where Maurice is, and you'll be free to move on.”

“Ha, I doubt that. You’ll have me cuffed before I even talk.”

“You're telling me you want to get eaten then?!”

You grunted and walked past Chan into the light. Eyes glaring at him, you let the fire light wash over you to give them a better view. All four men froze in place at the demon standing on the other side of their campfire. The cracking, burning wood crunched under your boots when you kicked their skillet aside and stood in the fire. The burning flames licked up your legs to your thighs, but you hardly felt them. You might as well have stepped into a warm bath.

“Listen, scumbag,” you growled, making sure he heard it, “Tell us what you know about the warlock and where he is before I pull you into this fire with me.”

Suho, clearly not one to back down easily, pointed his pistol right at you. “Stay away, demon,” he said stiffly, though you could smell the sweat coming through his pores. Fear. Your demonic roots savored the fragrance, “Or I’ll shoot!”

In a swift motion, you reached out and brought the heavy man right to the edge of the fire. High pitched screams followed his panic kicking as flames danced close to his ankles. Suho tried uncurling your fingers from his shirt collar, but to no avail. You bore your eyes into his as you spoke.

“Where is Maurice, human?”

Too afraid of being burned, Suho did not answer you right away. You quickly looked to the men around him, seeing how they’d backed up and away from you. “I asked you a question,” you grunted, lowering him closer to the fire, “Where is he? Where?!”

“Pl-please!”

“Innocent children will have their lives sucked out of their bodies, and you’re standing there refusing to help them?!” You dragged him into the fire at last, though kept him above the lowest of the flames. The sound of running feet told you his members left him behind to be tortured. “Do you know what we do to people who harm children in the Shadowlands? Hm?” You brought him in closer, “We burn them!”

You dropped him into the fire, and Suho screamed hysterically. Rolling away, he rustled around on the ground to put out the tiny flickers on his back. Panting and sweating, the gang leader stared up at you in horror. Most likely because the fires burning inside you had finally reached your eyes. Their mortal hue turned into burning coals, and your fingers itched to set him aflame.

“In the mines!” he screamed, cowering under your fiery gaze. “He’s in the mines! He has his little pets helping him! Please, don’t eat me! Please!”

“Where’s the entrance?”

Suho whimpered, not answering.

“Where’s the entrance?!” you demanded.

“Tha-th-that-t- wa-ay!”

He pointed to his left, and you nodded. Storming off into the nearby path, you already saw the sky gradually becoming darker and darker. The warlock could start their ritual at any moment.

“Hey!” you heard several pairs of feet coming up behind you, “Hey, what was that?”

Chan came up beside you, but you kept on moving. “Intimidation,” you said, “You weren’t getting answers, and we’re running out of time, so I stepped in.” You smirked over your shoulder, “Nothing makes a man talk more than under the threat of eternal flames.”

“You weren’t going to actually kill him though, right? That…That isn’t how we do things here.”

“Of course not,” you scoffed. “Yes, people like Suho deserve whatever fate they have coming, but when that happens is not up to me.”

“Oh…”

You knew why he asked that. “I’m not that kind of demon, Chan,” you told him, “I might be a demon, but I’m not a thrill killer. I only do it when-”

You stopped at the sight of metal tracks some yards away. The mine entrance was on the other side of them, dimly lit and foreboding. Empty cargo carts sat on the tracks, and you saw crates stacked on top of one another. Whoever worked this mine abandoned it long ago, and several residents had taken it up. All the fire from before extinguished when you saw the gargantuan spiders roaming the area. The stinging sensation of bile crept up your throat, and your skin started crawling again. Big and hairy, most of them varied in colors of white, gray and black. You almost turned back, but knew to do so now would be abandoning the children and also negating any perceived toughness.

“Kind of hard to intimidate a wild beast, huh?” Chan asked, humored by your weak attempts. “Especially big ones with several pairs of eyes-”

“-Nothing needs that many eyes or that many legs!” you harshly whispered. “How can we get past them?”

“Fire,” Mr. Choi croaked from behind, pulling out a large matchbox. “It’s how my grandfather used to do it back in the day.”

“Works for me,” Chan shrugged, turning back to you, “YN? Would our fire demon like to handle the big nasty spiders?”

You stuck out your tongue at his smug smile. “I’d love to,” you responded pointedly. “Let me show you how it’s done.”

“Please, be my guest.”

He then made a hissing sound that made you punch his shoulder. You knew he was only teasing. Any other time, you’d tease him back but the sight of a spider coming down from the mountain with a bundle between two legs caught your attention. Fire. Warmth and light always scared off nocturnal beasts.

Taking a step out of the treeline, a prickling sensation went up your legs, most likely the formation of goosebumps all over your body. You searched for a starting point for the flames, which happened to be the light shedding of webs along the tracks. In a single thrust of your hand, a bolt of red-hot fire shot from your palm and onto the metal tracks.

Like a spark to gunpowder, the fire quickly began spreading. The beasts sensed the fire right away, and scurried away from the light. When one of them spotted you, it screeched loudly and scuttled over to you. With a high scream, your entire body went into a panic and you shot both hands out. Shrieking screams pierced your ears as the flames engulfed the creature, whose cries died out along with a few others. Your comrades, not wanting to miss out, started shooting. Gun blasts added to the fires scaring off the spiders; some of them took several shots while the proper marksmen got them between the eyes.

“Come on,” Chan took one of your wrists, “Let’s get inside.”

“Inside?!”

You imagined more spiders awaited you in there, “This is no time to be a baby! Let’s go!”

Guiding you through the scorched earth, you kept your eyes peeled for any more spiders, but they’d appeared to have been killed or scared off. You’d gotten right into the entrance when your party came up behind you.

“There’s more where they came from,” said Mr. Choi, “But don’t you worry. I grew up in this mine. I know it in and out.”

“Yuth’ik is an earth god,” you deduced from research, “He’s likely far underground where there’s roots.”

“I know the right place,” he nodded.

Chan and Mr. Choi led the group, and you did your best to keep your shaking legs moving normally. Someone came up beside you.

“You really showed Suho.” It was Fred, carrying his rifle across his chest. “I ain’t ever seen a man scared out of his wits like that before.”

“Being the good cop wasn’t working,” you shrugged, “So I played the bad one.”

“We could have used someone like you when this all started.” Once he realized how that sounded, he recovered, “I mean, the sheriff and his deputies are great at their jobs. It's…Things weren't being done quick enough.”

“I understand,” you said. The amount of webs did not match the spiders outside. There are more of them. “He was doing the best he could with what he had. I'm glad to be of some use here.”

Fred moved to talk again, but the group then stopped. In the spacious coal mine, you saw them right when everyone else did. High above the floor, cocoons hung from the ceiling and stuck to the walls. Bundles long and short were covered in several lengths of sticky webbing. You gulped back the fear burning in your throat, and stepped over to a nearby cocoon. About the average size of an adult, you poked it with your sword. When it didn't move, you looked at Chan with a worried stare. Your suspicions proved true when you cut a hole in the head to see the corpse of a young elf maiden inside. Sickly pale and blue, her paper thin skin and hollowed cheeks suggested she'd died ages ago.

“How horrible…” Samantha frowned, opening another to find an old man.

“Donny,” Chan looked at Fred’s farmhand, “Stay here with Samantha and start cutting the bodies down.”

“Harold and I'll keep watch,” Fred said, pulling out a flint to light a nearby stick.

“Good idea,” he nodded his approval.

As the other four started removing bodies, the rest of you went further into the mine. It didn't take much longer to reach the heart of the mine, and it was there that you thought you might scream. Dozens of spiders small and large covered the walls, and stood on the ground around a platform of rocks. None of them caught your scent yet, but one false move will have you setting the place on fire in a panic. You flinched when a warm hand grabbed yours.

“Stay with me,” Chan whispered, his fingers gently taking your wrist this time. “We need to stick together.”

“The kids!” Mr. Choi gasped, pointing at the platform.

Wrapped from the neck down in white webs, four children wriggled around an archway carved into the stone wall. You heard their sobbing pleas through the unrest amongst the beasts, and you forced out your fears. They needed you. It was then that you finally saw the warlock named Maurice. The top half of his body was a human torso, aged but strong with white hair braided back from his face. The bottom half was a spider's form, eight legs keeping him standing high above the children. That explained why the creatures hadn't killed any of the clan members.

“My children!” He said, his voice a delicate hiss, “Tonight we bring forth the power of the old magic! We bring forth our salvation! We bring forth our victory!”

The beasts approved, clicking and clacking in their language.

“For centuries, mortals have feared our presence! They run from us! They hunt us down and kill us!” He continued, “But tonight, sweet children, the old god Yuth’ik will give us our redemption. We will have our revenge!”

“Ugh, disgusting creature,” Mr. Choi scoffed. “Let's get him-”

“-Not yet,” Chan stilled him with a hand. He scanned the area and shook his head, “There are too many of them. They'll overpower us. We have to be smart about this.”

“Or extremely dumb,” you said, a thought coming to you. “You stay hidden and wait for my signal.”

“YN!”

Your knees wobbled walking towards the entryway into the main area. A human would be of no concern to the spider hybrid, but a demon from The Mar might keep him distracted.

“-No more will you cower in your nests, feeding off scraps! You will have fresh meat!-”

“I wouldn't say my meat is fresh!” You shouted over the chatter of the room, “But demons are an acquired taste, I've been told.”

Maurice paused in surprise at the sight of you. Black eyes held you in their gaze. He had four of them. Nobody needed that many eyes.

“Ah,” he grinned, teeth sharp and white, “Here's the demon I've heard so much about. Was it you who harmed my children outside?”

“They were in my way.”

Confidently, you walked through the horde, which parted to make way for you. Glittering black eyes stayed on you as you moved. Having them all in one place suffocated any fresh winds coming through the tunnel passages. Your skin prickled having them so close to you. You kept a tight grip on your sword at your hip, gripping so tight the pummel dug into your palm. No fear. Show no fear.

“You know summoning an imprisoned god is against the celestial laws, Maurice,” you continued. “The Blind One doesn't take kindly to people who disobey him. I suggest you release those children and take your spider friends back where they came from.”

Maurice gave a mocking laugh, “As if you could do anything to stop me. Once my ritual is complete, no mortal alive could stop me.”

He turned away from you to face the archway. “You'll have to give him something in return,” you said, “And be in servitude to him for life. I don't think you want to be someone's puppet, do you?”

“I will do anything I must,” he said. “I shall be the ultimate supreme lord. Everyone will bow down to me or suffer the wrath. The weak mortals you so eagerly helped will be scum beneath my feet.”

“Please, help us!” A red-haired girl with leaves in her hair cried. Sanghee, no doubt. “Help us!”

“Please!” said the werecat Hyeyoung.

“He's going to kill us, please help!” pleaded a blond boy with concurved ears. “Help! I want to go home!”

“Silence!” Maurice shouted angrily over his shoulder.

He lifted his head towards the arch and began muttering the incantation. It brought forth a vortex of black and blue, and gradually a white light broke through. You gasped at the recognizable swirls of The Abyss. Unrest rippled throughout the horde, who'd begun moving away as the portal opened.

“Children,” the warlock called out to the spiders, “Dinner.”

You screamed as several spiders hurried towards you, some clawing over others to reach you. Fear and panic set inside you again, and erupted on its own. Bursts of fire cracked and burned the ground around your feet, keeping a protective circle as you started launching fireballs at any beast in sight.

‘Bulgakgan!’

Flames shot out continuously from your hands, and as you moved in a clockwise circle, spiders were incinerated. One minute there, the next a stumbling ball of fire. Sensing a greater foe, the rest of the spiders began crawling away. This boosted your confidence significantly, and you switched to your sword. With another command, the dragonfire runes on your sword burned red and heated up the steel blade. Swinging and slashing the air, the spiders burned from the flaming steel alone. You hardly noticed the grunting and struggling occuring on the platform above you.

Chan was locked in a struggle with Maurice. He blocked the hybrid's long legs with his arms, then gave a swift kick to the steady legs on one side. Maurice shot bolts of gray and black shadow magic at him. One barely grazed his bicep, and you heard his loud painful cry. Maurice, believing him finished, sent more shadow bolts at him just as Chan rolled away. Getting onto his feet, you watched through your own fight as Chan turned around. Mr. Choi, holding his own against his own foes, tossed him a rifle. Maurice chuckled right as Chan raised his weapon.

“For Levanter Bay!”

You heard the war cry from behind you. Fred, Samantha and Donny appeared, sweating and fueled with adrenaline as they covered the front entrance. A gunshot bounced off the walls, though the thick webs kept the sound suppressed. Chan's bullet missed, which amused Maurice, who curved his hands until more dark matter materialized between his palms. Chan quickly reloaded, but Maurice rushed at him. With another shadow bolt, he knocked Chan squared in the chest and launched him back several feet.

You hurled a fireball at his legs, causing him to fall against the wall. This split second diversion was all Chan needed to shoot a bullet into Maurice's forehead from the ground. Their leader defeated, propped up by his legs, the other spiders disappeared from battle up through ceiling tunnels leading further into the mountain. You took deep breaths, heart pounding in your chest as you rushed over to Chan's side.

“Chan, are you alright?” you asked, looking him over.

The shadow bolt singed his shirt, the black mark vibrant against his chest, but otherwise no blood. It hadn't gone through completely.

“Thick skin,” Chan winced through a laugh. “Merfolk side, they say.”

You both stood up on shaking legs, “Still, shadow magic is nothing to sniff at. You need to get that checked out.”

“Yes, ma'am,” he saluted halfheartedly.

The thought of Chan being mortally wounded by shadow magic came to you. You'd grown to like Chan. You felt glad for his merfolk blood. His eyes glimmered even in the dim torch light, and his soft smile warmed your cheeks. You turned from him to see Mr. Choi cut the children out of their cocoons. To avoid more butterflies, you started helping him.

“Papa!”

Barney Pebbles ran to his father the second you freed him, weeping and reaching out before the man embraced him tightly. The other children took comfort in the adults who'd saved them.

“Sheriff Bahng!” Dobin, furry with a black snout, ran over to him, “I knew you'd come! I told everyone you'd come for us!”

“Of course I did.” Chan hugged him and patted his back. “Your parents have been worried to all hell about you. Let's not keep them waiting.”

“Or stick around for more of those things!” You added, shuddering and sheathing your blade.

The rest agreed and walked with you out of the mine. You took in deep breaths of fresh air, feeling the breeze cool down your body. Heat never bothered you, but it still felt nice to fan your flames. You watched Barney and Fred riding back on his horse, the young boy protected by his arms. Being raised in The Mar by the warrior fire clan, people thought your clan were cruel. In fact, it'd been the opposite. You sat on your horse, remembering the time an air demon healer soothed your cries after a particularly nasty spar in the yard.

“Ma'am?” Hyeyoung sat on Samantha's horse, tearful and shivering. “Are you a real demon?”

“Yes, I am.”

“But demons are supposed to be mean.”

“I'm only mean to the bad guys.”

She grinned at this, but said nothing else as she leaned into Samantha's embrace. When you reached the main road, you caught up with Minho and Han towards town. Minho found nothing at his mine, and Han only ran into vagrants with nowhere to live. What you really anticipated was the missing children with their parents. Word spread about your mission while you'd been gone, and as you rode to the town square, all four children rushed to their parents. Cries of joy and smooching kisses reached your ears, and it brought warmth into your chest.

“Oh, thank god!” Mayor Wallace appeared from the school house building, which doubled as a meeting hall apparently. He hustled over to Chan, “Chan, Chan, thank goodness you came back safely! And you got the children back too!”

“It wasn't all my doing, Gerald,” Chan insisted, dismounting his horse. “I had help.”

Mayor Wallace looked at you once more. You expected words of suspicion or caution, but instead he held out his hand, “Thank you, YN. We wouldn't have our children back if you'd not stepped in on time.”

“I was only doing my job, sir.”

“And a fantastic one you did.”

Someone called him from afar, and he excused himself. The weight of the battle, using your own magic, and the adrenaline wore you down. The hazy feeling of exhaustion came over you within minutes. You looked on the townspeople being reunited with friends and loved ones fondly, similar to scenes you'd come across during the war. The fear of the past few weeks lifted at the return of the four children. Taking a seat outside The White Pearl, you continued observing them.

Nor’goth used to claim that humans were selfish beings that knew nothing of loyalty. They were animals that killed each other needlessly. The people of Levanter Bay proved him wrong. The mortal world proved him wrong. When the tides grew high and the odds stacked against them, mortals banded together under one flag. They created The Allies, and stood as one against a common enemy. The Shadowland cities did no such thing until the war, and Sakmarth liked to say mortals had much to teach them. You couldn't help being in awe of them at that moment.

“Hey there, Honey,” you said kindly as the bear waddled up the steps towards you. She sniffed your palm once more, then licked it. “You should've mentioned you liked spiders. I would've brought back some legs.”

“They're too boney and don't have enough meat for her.”

With the pet came its tamer. Changbin stood at the door a foot away, leaning on the frame.

“She usually eats salmon or roots and berries I pick up on my hunts,” he took a seat beside you to watch the community. “You really pulled it off, huh?”

“You doubted I would?”

“Not for a minute,” he shook his head, “But it's amazing. The kids are saying you had a flaming sword?”

“It's a rune blade.”

“Interesting,” he nodded thoughtfully. “You'll make big money off of this. Saving children from a spider hybrid must be-Haha, what's with the shudder?”

“I hate spiders,” you grumbled. “Why did it have to be spiders?”

He laughed and patted your back, “Come inside, hero. We cooked up a feast to celebrate. You look like you could use a drink or two too.”

“Good, I'm starving!”

You went inside with him to find tables of food laid out. You went in right away, sneaking apples to give to Summer later on. As you tore into a chicken leg, Han and Minho appeared in front of you with their own plates.

“Spider hybrid, huh?” Minho sniffed, “I suppose we were wrong about the human warlock theory.”

“Very,” you nodded, taking a huge bite of your chicken leg before turning it over. “He hardly got a chance to summon Yuth’ik.”

“Chan said you got there in the nick of time,” Han said, forking mashed potatoes into his mouth. “He said he might have gotten killed if you hadn't come along.”

“And that he inherited his mother's skin,” Minho sipped an ale cup before saying, “Well done, Multak. I told you we'd have this thing finished by supper.”

You both grinned at one another before digging into your supper.

****

The festivities carried on through the night into morning. You crashed into your bed upstairs and passed out instantly. When you left your room for the common area downstairs the next morning, you were met with applause. This reaction startled you, But not as much as the praise.

“Thank you, YN!” Fred Pebbles came over from the bar and lifted you into a bear hug. “From me and mine, thank you!”

“Woah, okay!” You laughed out your surprise.

“We mean it,” Wilma walked up from behind him, holding out something to you. “Here, take this as a thank you.”

Made of pure tiger's eye, someone engraved the blazing sun into the small charm. It hung from a thick string that glistened in the sunlight.

“It's a tiger's eye,” she explained. “My people wear certain stones for different things. This charm will protect you on future quests.”

“Appreciated, Matriarch.”

She smiled at the elvish title. “No, thank you. Barney is our only son. When we heard he'd been taken, we thought he'd be dead for sure. It was by the light's grace that you showed up when you did.” You saw her watery eyes and hugged her tightly.

It then occurred to you that The Pebbles' weren't the only ones with tokens of gratitude. When Wilma and Fred left, the other parents met you outside. Sanghee’s grandmother gifted you a valerian plant, meant to bring strength and knowledge to you. Dobin's father and mother gave you a wolf tooth, a special gift given to allies of specific werewolf packs; Hyeyoung's werecat parents did something similar with a cat claw. But, it was the children who warmed you the most.

“There's the demon lady!” Dobin said from across the square.

They'd all been standing in the middle of the market with Han, who smiled at you. “Well, go on,” he encouraged, “Jump her.”

You flinched at the gaggle of children coming your way. They didn't jump on you, but they surrounded you.

“Do you really have a flaming sword?”

“Can you make people turn into dust?”

“Hyeyoung said you set the spider man on fire!”

“Ms. Demon Lady, did you die?!”

You didn't know which one to answer first. However, their barrage of questions ended when Chan appeared.

“Come on now,” he said, shepherding them away, “Don't crowd YN. You got school.”

The children groaned in disappointment, but still walked away. You fixed your jacket on your shoulders, watching them going towards the schoolhouse. Most people you helped handed you the money, and then sent you on your way. The people in those towns usually didn't know you'd helped them at all; they only cared when their own people rushed into danger. Yet, the cold reception you received when you arrived turned warm and friendly.

“You've become pretty popular around here,” Chan told you. “You're all the kids have been talking about.”

“And clearly their opinion is the only one that matters,” you smiled in amusement. “How are the kids doing?”

“They're still shaken up, since, you know, a spider hybrid kidnapped them and planned on sacrificing them to a tree god,” he answered, “But they're happy to be back home. Thanks to you.”

“And you,” you added. “How's your chest? That bolt hit you pretty bad.”

“Minho took care of it for me,” he shrugged, though you noticed the slight wince when he did. “It just stings. Nothing to worry about.” He then fished in his pocket to withdraw a leather pouch, “The mayor wanted me to pass this onto you. Your payment.”

You opened the pouch to see dozens gold and silver coins in the bottom of the bag. With an approving nod, you already budgeted what amount went to what expense.

“So, um, where do you plan to go now?” Chan asked you, hands in his pockets as he walked with you to the stables behind the White Pearl. “You can always pick up other jobs around here. Someone always needs help. Mrs. Young still has a boar problem; she says they keep eating her cabbages. I didn't know they even ate cabbage,” he added with a soft laugh.

You chuckled, coming up to Summer's stable. Your horse kicked the ground gently, a greeting. “As tempting as Mrs. Young's boars sound, Summer and I were planning on heading to the capital.” You pet Summer's snout, smiling softly as she huffed. “Don't worry. We'll take a ferry there.”

Chan stayed silent, then said, “Um, that might be a problem.”

“How come?”

“The ferry isn't running right now,” he said, thumbs hooked in his pockets. “Our local sea serpent has been seen close to the bay, and the King declared the ferry closed to keep people safe. You know these sea monsters. They like knocking boats over and eating people.”

“The King said this?” You faced him, arms crossed in disbelief. “I didn't hear anything about that.”

“It came in an hour ago,” he said. “Private government papers and other boring stuff. The damn thing nearly swallowed a whole navy ship, so imagine a little transport ferry. Psh, they'd stand no chance.”

Not once did you ever hear a royal decree not being posted or spoken about anywhere. Looking over Chan, you noticed the slight curls in his black hair, pushed back from his face and left to grow out. Brown eyes looked at you with a twinkle of hope inside them. You supposed you could stay a little bit longer. It isn't as if you had important business anywhere else. Levanter Bay did not seem to be a terrible place; the sunshine is something to be desired, but the people were actually nice. You touched the tiger's eye necklace you'd been given, as if rubbing it might produce an answer.

“I guess we can hang around here,” you said casually. “What do you think, Summer?” You asked your horse, “Want to hang around here for a bit?” You laughed when she grazed on the hay inside a feed bag. “I guess that's a ‘yes’.”

“Great,” Chan grinned. “That's really great.”

“Looks like you're in luck then,” you walked up to him, casually, “You'll have someone help your station get out from under the bounties up on that board.”

“I'm not proudful. We could use a demon in this town. Except, maybe one that doesn't burn down a whole cave because of a few spiders.”

“There were more than ‘a few’,” you punched his shoulder, but he only laughed. “There were hundreds, and I took out a good amount before everyone else joined in. I noticed you, Sheriff, didn't fight any spiders.”

“I was fighting the biggest one!”

The two of you talked about Maurice and his disgusting army on the way back to the inn. You had enough gold to buy you food and board at the inn, and you actually liked Changbin and Honey didn't scare Summer.

It's not such a bad place after all.

***

A/N: Wow, my first Stray Kids fic (well, a real one. The last one doesn't count too much to me). I hope you guys really enjoyed this one! I have one for each of the members coming up soon! Like, comment, and reblog! it keeps posts alive <3

Episode 2 >

#stray kids #bang chan #han jisung #seo changbin #yang jeongin #kim seungmin #lee felix #lee minho #hwang hyunjin #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids fantasy au #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #chan x female reader

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misc-obeyme · 4 months

Note

Hi CC! Hope you’re doing good. 🐚🦀 here!

These past few months I can’t help but ponder the demon brothers’ sock-wearing habits, especially for sleep. So here are some of my notes!

Lucifer: Old man vibes old man socks, through all seasons except summer because it might get too hot.

Mammon: One that changes depending on the temperature, cold means sock and vice versa. Although I do think that he’d get those really thick and fluffy ones to match his hair.

Levi: Going with the entire “reptiles are cold-blooded” thing, socks. All day everyday and season, he needs all the warmth he can get. Probably gets ones with his favorite characters on it but never wears them for preservation purposes.

Satan: No socks all year round but is someone (you/mc) gifts him a fair of cat ones he’s either going to try and preserve them or wear them until they have holes.

Asmodeus: Given that his preferred outfit for sleep is just… nude I’d say no socks. Unless if he wants to tease a shy mc, maybe something along the lines of: “Oh don’t be so shy mc, darling. I’m not completely naked now am I?~”

Belphie: I’d say that Belphie really doesn’t have much of a preference. He’s the demon of sloth and he is a professional in every aspect. Although I do imagine him sleeping with inly one sock to get a better temperature range when sleeping.

Beel: I can see him wear really fluffy socks like Mammon but otherwise nothing out of the ordinary. Will try to eat the socks with food patterns.

I’m not too sure about the dateables but Solomon’s definitely giving old man vibes and I dan see him getting socks with funny patterns. Maybe Luke also wears them because he’s scared of the monsters under his bed nipping at his feet.

Hope this was a fun read, what do you think? Would love to compare notes, and have a great day!

Well hello, 🐚🦀 anon! It's been a minute since I've seen you in my ask box! I hope you're doing well!

I am staunchly against wearing socks to bed... I like to be FREE lol. (To this end, I also don't wear pants. It's all oversized t-shirts for me.)

Anyway, I totally see Lucifer as a sock wearer. I mean, we had that whole saga in the daily chats about his missing socks. You can't tell me that old man doesn't cherish his socks. So I fully agree with you on that one lol.

I was under the impression that Mammon also sleeps in the nude? I think there was a daily chat where he said he only wears Devilish No 5 to bed which is a freakin' perfume. He's such a dork but for some reason that makes me love him more. But I also think that Mammon likes to be comfortable, so I think he'd wear socks (and possibly other pjs) if it was cold. Also you know I don't think he could handle sleeping nude with MC (at least not at first) and I also think he often sneaks into MC's bed. So therefore I tend to imagine him as being one of those pajama pants and tank top types. So I think he would absolutely wear socks if it was cold.

YES to cold blooded Levi always!! If they had animal forms and Levi could become a lil snake I think it'd be SO CUTE if he just curled up inside a sock. I'd carry him around in his little sock in my pocket all day tee hee~ But anyway, I very much think that he's always cold and needs socks all the time. If he's in demon form, he should have a tail sock too.

Satan can't resist the cat socks. I don't know why but I agree with you that he wouldn't wear socks to bed. He would probably find them irritating lol. He should still get a tail sock though just because that's adorable, but his is like... I mean I know we all kinda headcanon it as bone now, but it looks like metal. That thing would probably shred a sock.

Oh, Asmo. Definitely only wearing socks in order to tease MC, I agree with that 1000%. I mean you could wear socks if you sleep nude I suppose, but I think Asmo would prefer to go sockless in such an instance.

Oh yeah I think Belphie could sleep no matter what anyway. It's probably just whatever's most convenient at the moment.

I don't know why, but I kinda headcanon Beel as being naturally very warm. Just absolute furnace. So I see him not really wearing socks to bed. Though I like the idea of him wearing fluffy ones because that is super cute lol.

Diavolo wears Lucifer's socks to bed. Nobody can convince me otherwise.

Barbatos for some reason strikes me as a no socks type. I don't know why. But he also needs a tail sock because wow that would be so adorable I think I'd combust. He would only wear something like that if MC got it for him, though, I think.

I think it could go either way with Simeon. I think he's probably one of those who wears socks depending on the weather. If he's cold, he puts some on. If he's not, he doesn't. It just makes sense.

I agree about Solomon and the patterned socks. I think he'd find that amusing. I would try to find him socks that have pact mark patterns on them because I personally would find that absolutely hilarious. This is because I have a terrible sense of humor, but I think he'd indulge me and wear them lol.

Ahhh Luke wearing socks to protect his little toes from getting snatched is so cute! Headcanon accepted.

This was a fun read, thank you for bringing it to me! It was fun to think about this! I hope you also have a lovely day!

#I myself have quite a collection of socks #mostly because my mom keeps gifting me funny ones #I'm not complaining they make me laugh #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me luke #🐚🦀 anon #misc answers

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colorpuffball · 9 months

Text

I'm beating the buzzer with this one (^_^;)

Anyways I'm really glad to have been able to join this summer santa event! Big thanks to you @solarisfortuneia <3

I was assigned to @lychniis, hope you enjoy reading ╰(´꒳`)╯

I chose Zhongli fluff, here's a lil preview:

“Please lay down on me.” “Perhaps you mean with you?” “No. On me.”

“Do you have any plans for the day?”

Your question is directed at the man sitting in front of you. Morning sunlight streams into your shared home, making your teacups give off a warm glow.

“Aside from my usual walk through Liyue, no.”

“Then, could I make a request?”

Zhongli sets his cup down. "It would depend on what it is you desire. Although I am inclined to accept anything you propose."

You lean closer. “Could you please lay down on me.”

His brow furrows ever so slightly. “Perhaps you mean with you?”

“No. On me.”

A breath. He raises his cup, answering before taking a sip. "It is hard to refuse a request so simple."

_____________________________

Despite his acceptance, he was in no rush to finish his tea. Not that you minded of course. Conversation flowed as free as the tea he poured for the both of you.

When you do reach the end of the pot, you go quiet as he cleans the tea set. With a flick of his wrist another teapot appears in the air. The steam from within rises, curling into the light. He rinses every piece with such gracious movements that so obviously stem from years of experience. It never fails to capture your attention.

Finally, he sets everything aside.

"Shall we?"

_____________________________

The two of you return to bed. With the way you're laying, Zhongli is slotted almost perfectly against you. His head rests on your shoulder.

"Does this satisfy you?"

His warmth and weight feel more comforting than you'd imagined. Although… now that you've got your foot in the door.

“More.” You demand, although you’re mostly joking.

You thought he understood that with the way he inhaled, like a half finished chuckle. But then he stretches out.

You’ve seen him in his dragon form before, the great Morax in the flesh. Or more accurately, in the scales. You can only describe the transformation process as something akin to a molting reptile. Objectively, it isn’t pretty. To you though, it’s always a breathtaking sight.

The change literally steals your breath away. You struggle to breathe under his weight. How such a large being can fit into a smaller form, you have no clue.

“Is this adequate?”

His voice is a tinge deeper, and seems to hold a lot more power. You always wonder if it truly changes, or if it’s your brain playing tricks on you.

You laugh lightly. “Much, thank you.”

Knowing your satisfaction, he decides to make himself comfortable. Around and around he goes, until he’s balanced (mostly) on top of you in a coil.

When he’s finished he sighs. You sigh in solidarity. No matter for what reason he actually sighed for.

The two of you lay in silence for a while, simply enjoying the physical contact.

His scales are smooth to the touch. When your hand travels up towards his mane you’re hit by a puff of hot air. He watches with crinkled eyes as you run your fingers through coarse strands.

He’s gorgeous.

You can’t help but smile to yourself. From his grand horns to the steady beating of his heart against your chest, even the fact that he's so willing to show this form to you, it all makes you question how any of this is even real.

It’s like a dream come true.

If you had told yourself in the past that you’d end up in a relationship with a now retired god who happens to be able to transform into a dragon. Well, you’d think you were insane.

You unknowingly shake your head at the idea, to which Zhongli tilts his.

“Is something the matter?”

Your cheeks warm. “No, nothing.” You immediately change the subject. “Does it feel better when you get to take on this form again? Is it relieving, or- I mean, how does it feel?”

With the proximity of your faces, it's hard not to notice the way his eyes narrow ever so slightly. "It is a welcome change. Much like when one walks a different path as they would in their day to day."

"Do you wish that you could do it more often?"

He hums, the sound more akin to a purr with how it reverberates. In fact, it even relaxes you further. You feel as though you've shifted farther into the bed, the blankets brushing against your skin.

Or maybe you actually did, as you immediately tense when you feel his claws on you.

"Those are sharp!"

Immediately they're gone. "My apologies. I should be more mindful. These claws, they were not made for such activities after all."

You chuckle. "These activities? You make it sound so suspicious."

He yawns, his jaw opening so wide you realize he could swallow a boar whole. Several boars maybe. Or even a boat.

"I was referring to these more peaceful activities."

Your eyes widen. “Ah. Right.”

It's easy to forget what Zhongli is capable of. Especially since he's currently acting as your weighted blanket.

The silence stretches. Your gaze shifts between his mouth and literally anywhere else. Zhongli’s eyes rest solely on you.

“Do I scare you?” As he speaks you’re forced to face his teeth. You pull your eyes from the multitude of knife-like points to observe his face.

To you, it simply holds curiosity. You were afraid that he’d be unhappy with your reaction. Although he could be saving it for your response.

“Well…”

It’d be a lie to say that he is harmless. Or to say that you weren’t spooked just now. It’s a bit difficult to ponder on his nature and that of your relationship with him on top of you.

Of course, in his bountiful patience, Zhongli simply watches as you find the right words. His face betrays no emotion.

Although, if you’re being honest…

You start gently. “Yes, at times.” You watch him out of the corner of your eye as you stroke his mane once again. “However,” you grin, “I can’t say that I’m not into it.”

#— summer santa.#x reader #zhongli x reader #gn reader #no pronouns used #Zhongli #genshin impact #Big shout out to Misha for Beta reading <33 #Is it just me or do y'all hear the Minecraft ender dragon sound when you see Morax as a dragon

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a-gay-little-cat · 5 months

Text

(This drawing got way out of hand but. I'm attaching it to the OC interview anyways!!!! Thank you for tagging me @mail-me-a-snail!!!!) OC interview thingy under the read more :]

Name?

“Vito.” Nothing special or out of the ordinary here really. Though he doesn’t like giving people his surname. Scan him for it if you are so nosy.

Nickname?

“The Red Scorpion.” "...." “That’s a joke, it’s V.” His name is short enough to not warrant a nickname really but V is what he likes to use for business related stuff, keep it formal, keep it anonymous. Though I do think Red Scorpion is the name for his bike. And also the symbol he wears on his vest. He just really likes scorpions and any other desert critter.

Gender?

“Male.”

Vito is trans, has been for a good chunk of his life and he couldn’t be happier with it.

Star sign?

“Scorpio, much to my delight. No idea what it means though. Don’t really care for that kind of stuff.” Fun fact I was so close to making the joke of having Vito be born on the day the Arasaka Towers got blown up but then his age wouldn’t have aligned quite right. He’d have to be 53 during the main story but… still a joke in the back of my mind, might adjust it JUST to be funny, maybe not.

Height?

“Last I checked it was 5’8.”

It’s a pretty good height all things considered. He might appear a bit taller though thanks to the bit of heel on his boots as well as his hat he wears most of the time. He has no complaints about his height though.

Orientation?

“Whoever strikes my fancy.”

Vito is bi and doesn’t really have a preference. Just kinda lets himself be taken wherever his heart desires. (Sometimes that can be horrible ex-corpo men who have something really wrong with them. Shoutout to Lucian. What is wrong with him.) Though he usually doesn’t look for more than a fling. Not actively looking to date or find anything long term. (Lucian was kind of an unexpected case.)

Nationality/ethnicity?

“Born and raised in Mexico. Lived there a good while too.”

His parents likely still live there, he wouldn’t really know. Cut ties a long time ago and has kinda moved from city to city looking to follow his ambitions.

Favorite fruit?

“Hm… don’t have fruit a lot these days but peaches have always been my favorite.”

I can only imagine fruit is just kind of rare to come by, if not expensive. Vito’s never had a lot of money to his name all things considered.

Favorite season?

“Fall. It’s just right.”

Listen he may be used to hot climates but all that leather is probably a nightmare during the summer. And no he will not sacrifice his looks.

Favorite flower?

“Flowers? In this year and age?” He doesn’t know shit about flowers. He might like ones that bloom on cacti but… it’s not really his scene.

Coffee, tea, or hot chocolate?

“You can’t go wrong with a nice tea.” He’ll always pick tea over anything else. Coffee is… okay. But he doesn’t get the appeal. Vito especially likes any sort of red/fruity tea but he’ll give anything a try at least once.

Average hours of sleep?

“4…. 5… depends.”

And that’s on a good day. Especially in the height of everything with the relic he is lucky to get one or two hours of sleep. Pain is one hell of a bitch keeping him up. Very hard to get comfortable at all. But once that’s all over and he’s settled down it’ll probably end up closer to an average of 8 hours, at least.

Dog or cat person?

“Reptiles.” “...” “But if I have to pick? Cats.”

Vito isn’t one to really care for pets. He doesn’t hate them and will pet a dog or a cat if someone he knows owns one but that's about it. Doesn’t really need a pet of his own.

Dream trip?

“Not really looking to travel.”

As a guy who has moved from place to place, Vito doesn’t really… plan for trips. Most of his traveling was out of necessity and not because he was looking for a vacation spot. Somewhere outside of NC could be nice but he just doesn’t really think about it. Busy with other stuff. Also he would want to travel with Lucian and well……. who knows how that would go down.

Favorite fictional character?

“Pardon?”

Vito reads a lot but he’s not like… crazy about the characters or even really involved, it's just to pass time and relax.

Number of blankets you sleep with?

“.....2.”

He gets cold in his sleep and it's a nice weight. One hell of a fight to get out of bed in the morning though.

Random fact?

Vito loves putting together little models of things if possible. Doesn’t always have the time for it but… it’s fun and relaxing :)

Don't really know who to tag but hey whoever wants to do this with their guys feel free to go ahead!

#cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #male v #putting it in the tags bc look at him #vito really isnt the most talkative guy all things considered #künstlerischer kuchen #vito #my ocs #i do wanna do this with tiger also but grr grrr i must draw smth first #and then get lost in drawing #i'd probably have an easier time writing these down for tiger since hes been established longer but. i wanted to talk abt vito.#BTW lucian is kings guy. just so we are clear #king being gr-74 on ye ol tumblr

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blackr23 · 5 months

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Seungsung Unit [Jenga Game Q&A] at SKZ JP Season's Greetings 2024 hello!

🐿This is Han from Stray Kids hello!

🐶This is Seungmin from Stray Kids

🐿: Isn't that what Seungmin is good at, Jenga?

🐶: Leave it to me! I will answer your questions better than any other fellow!

🐿🐶: Let's get started!!!

💬What is the best cure for you?

🐶: Lately, when I lay down to go to sleep, I think the best thing that heals me is to go through the day without regrets or worries

🐿: I agree

🐶: Han

🐿: It's my turn

💬 What do you want to conquer in 2024?

🐿: What I want to overcome is... Eat properly when the time comes, even if I'm not hungry

🐶: I will take good care of you

🐿: We live apart so you can't take care of me? Liar

🐶: That's true, but...

🐿: You will be a liar in 2024

🐶: If you are sleeping during lunch or dinner, I will scream and wake you up

🐿: Ah, that's cute

🐶: I would like to eat with you

🐿: to make sure he eats properly... If you don't have any questions, just put it on top.. Is it okay to leave it aside? Ah, I guess

🐿: I should ride it, right? It's Jenga

💬 Something you can't live without, like air?

🐶: It's like a jacket that you can put on easily. Even in summer, indoors, there are many places where the air conditioning is strong, so I tend to wear the jacket

🐶: With me to help regulate my temperature

🐿: are you a reptile.. Is it a reptile or an amphibian?

🐶: Non-human

💬What is my rule that I can't break?

🐿: My period... please give me some advice [Seungmin loading and setting up]

🐶: As always, complying with the agreed time

🐿: Although I don't do that?... I don't do that at all?.... There are no particular rules with which

🐿: can't break

🐿: Let's all stay healthy and happy together!

🐶: Han has a tendency to give in easily

🐿: what?

🐶: None

🐿: Also? I hope this doesn't collapse

🐶: why?

🐿: I wonder why

🐶: I have to get him out of here

🐿: Will it be over if it falls?

/👤: No

💬New nickname for your unit mate?

🐶: mackerel?

🐿: Is “shimesaba” correct? ha ha ha

🐶: monkfish

🐿: Why hahaha... Why monkfish? It's a fish?

🐶: Because I wanted to eat monkfish...hehehe I wonder what else there is, so let's go with a sea lion!

🐿: Sea lion?

🐶It looks a bit like a sea lion

🐿: Me?

🐶: Sea lions and Han I feel like they are similar in some way

🐿: you chose at random, right?

💬What country or place would you like to visit in the future?

🐿: I'm the kind of person who is afraid of new challenges, so I've been to Japan before, but I don't think I've been to Sapporo yet. They say the snow is up to my chest, so... I would like to go to a

🐿: hot spring in a place like that. I would like to go there if possible

🐶: I think you have answered a lot, right?

🐿: Yes, that's right. So let's show STAY our aspirations for 2024!

💬We announce our ambitions for 2024

🐶: I decided to 'learn a lot of Japanese words'

🐿: I wrote "I will do my best!" Which means I will also work hard in 2024. Isn't this really the most important thing?

🐶: That's true although I don't like it

🐿: why?

🐶: Isn't it like that even if it's not in 2024?

🐿: But even if you always do your best, at the end of the year you will regret it, right?

🐶: I understand

🐿: I hope to spend the next year satisfie

🐶: Sounds good

🐿: Now let's sign

🐶: Do we have to sign it?

🐿: Yes

🐶: 2024 should be even more fun!

🐿: Let's make this year even more fun together~!

🐶: This was

🐿: Han

🐶: & Seungmin

🐿|🐶: Goodbye! Bye bye!

#han #seungmin #han jisung #kim seungmin #stray kids #season greetings

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happytaffeta · 3 months

Text

Not going to reblog the post because I respect and agree with the op and I don't wanna write a fucking essay about my feelings on their post, but I finally stumbled across a photo of the calf and I haven't had a great afternoon, and i haven't had a great week. So uh. Here's your warning: Animal husbandry is important to me. I grew up in a rural area and I, and every kid I knew, and all my neighbors, kept various animals and a lot of them were livestock. I never kept cattle but I knew kids who did. I am going to be sad and angry below the cut, and I'm putting it below a cut because it's gonna be a bit long and maybe not super articulate, and definitely not always as kind as I maybe could be. I don't expect to change the minds of people who think that what's happening to that poor thing is okay. But I need to get some thoughts out.

I kept rabbits, goats, chickens. Mom had(still has) horses. we had cats and dogs and occasionally would capture reptiles and amphibians, look at them for a bit in a secure container, and then release them in a safer location where they wouldn't get hit by a tire or spotted as easily by the dog, or my kid brother(gentle, but young, so both clumsy and curious) or the rowdy neighbor boys(less gentle, just as young). You breed livestock, even on a small, 4-H kid, backyard scale, you end up on a first name basis with death. Wildlife happens. Sometimes there's a nasty outbreak of something and it hits half your flock. Sometimes there's stress from a hot summer day or general social group aggression. There are ways to avoid a lot of things but when you're a first time keeper of a given animal type trying to start a little show flock, or a nice little herd for your project book, no matter how much you read up first, there are things you learn by running up against the reaper. Some eggs never hatch. Some kids are stillborn. A first time mother gives birth on the wire instead of in the nest box. Now and then there's an invisible but fatal physical defect that kills a critter later. My first doe kid died a week and a half after I brought her home, heart defect. No one knew. She was weaned and everything, cause I didn't bring her home until after she was full time eating solid food.

This calf is not going to be okay, ever. This is a blue eyed white foal kind of situation, except those are pretty avoidable for the most part. You cannot save these babies, and trying only adds more pain to an inevitably early death. Trying makes you into the monster, it makes you be the one causing pain. This is an infant who is never going to be able to understand why the world consists of suffering, and there is no way for us to explain it, and there is no way to make it stop that is not death. This isn't a life to save. This is not someone who can consent to life-extending medical intervention. This is a creature who needs as gentle and quick a farewell as we have the power to give. Please don't do things like this. Please don't make us into monsters. Please, let the suffering baby beasties go.

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sweetlikehoneystingslikeabee · 1 year

Note

Hey did you know that Alligators have a mating season that begins in March or April? And that they become territorial and defensive?

Can you see Killer Croc acting like that with his S/O when his Heat arrives? If so what would he do? Or how would he treat his S/O?

"Mating Season" Arkham Killer Croc x Reader

Hello! You might notice first of all that I wrote this to go to Arkham Killer Croc and there's a straightforward reason for that. My general Waylon Jones is very much a black human man with a genetic condition that mimics an animal aesthetically. So I'm not comfortable giving him actual animal traits! But I really do like this ask and I Get Where You're Coming From- Arkham Killer Croc also has a genetic condition but it's tied a lot more with Having Animal Traits (which gets worse/more animalistic physically as the games go on).

Hopefully win-win for everyone! Also, brief note, not a big thing but "heats" are more of a mammalian trait. For reptiles and birds it's courtship behaviors during mating season.

TW: Animal-like traits (mating), NSFW, breeding kink, oversensitivity, size kink

As Waylon has gotten older, gotten bigger and more into that side of him, he's found he starts getting an itch in the spring. Irritable. Too in his own skin. Normally it goes away in the summer...

It started mild in his younger years. Just keeps getting more intense. At first he figured it was related to wanting to "eat" but eventually he would realize (after several hot and heavy and brief trysts) that it was a different kind of hunger.

How the fuck could he explain it? No one knew why his condition was the way it was. Now, however, it wouldn't be relieved with a quick fuck. He knew that much. He was committed.

He knew the time was coming when all he could think about was rutting into you hard and deep and filling you up- When the sight of any other man near you got him so pissed off he could barely stand it.

He wasn't so stupid to think he was going to boss you around or tell you not to talk to anybody else. No, that'd just drive you away. But you'd notice he'd cling close to your side. A low bellowing noise in his throat. Instinctual, to drive competitors away. And, to a degree, it did keep certain sleazy types away.

Not like anyone would try to two-time Killer Croc, anyways. Besides, you were enamored it seemed. Which was why when he started to explain... to tell you what he was feeling- You understood him completely.

He'd out of Arkham and even though he intended to stay that way, you never knew with the Bat always fucking up plans. And he was not going to go back without having you as many times as he was able.

That means him completely undressing and making the bed buckle slightly under his weight as he lays back. You making a show of undressing for him (too slow and he's tearing your clothes off with his talons) and straddling naked over his thigh.

His cock is bigger than average. Huge balls, sizeable head with a long shaft. Made for going in deep as possible. He loves having you palm it or rub your body along it to prepare. If you need a little lubrication, come on up 'ere, babe. He's got something nice and long that'll get you wet right up here with his face.

He hisses out teasing praise, "You taste good. Might want to take a bite."

Just don't cum too fast. He needs to be inside you. Not unless you want to be nice and oversensitive when he does it. Not that he'd mind much to have you crying out for him.

If he had a tail (later on he will), it'd be thumping for your attention. His whole chest is vibrating as you slick over his cock.

"Is it all gonna fit?" A low laugh under his breath, "Let's make it fit-" He helps pull you over and just barely off the head of his cock over and over. Fills you up with a little more of his cock inch by inch as he goes.

"That's it. Good for me, huh?" He's almost congratulatory as all of him fits inside you and he's close to cumming, "Gonna fill you up-"

You're going to call out his name when you both finish. That's what he aims for, anyways, as his cum dribbles out of you. He looks like he's on cloud nine. That bellowing hum slowing to steady breathing as you pop off of him. Lay over his chest, just a little closer to his face. He wants to kiss you. Hold you.

#Arkham killer croc #arkham waylon jones #x reader #smut #foxwriting

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ofblitzd · 7 months

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┊┊cerberus corp has been watching AIYANA MORENO. some of the public has dubbed them BLITZ because of LIGHTNING MANIPULATION gifted by FIRE CAUSED BY LIGHTNING STRIKE. having been an extra ordinary since 2017, they’re doing a good job at hiding OUTBURSTS CAUSED BY STRONG EMOTIONS & SCORCHING THEMSELVES. when they aren’t working their day job as a BARTENDER, they are fond of WORKING ON VINTAGE CARS and are never seen without A BRACELET MADE BY HER SISTER. at first glance they seem CHARISMATIC & TENACIOUS, though their close friends know them to also be RUTHLESS & VENGEFUL. they consider themself a VILLAIN. ┊┊ baz. she/her. 30. cst. n/a.

TW : fire, death.

001. GENERAL

name : aiyana sekai moreno. nicknames : blitz, yana, na. age : thirty. date of birth : october 30th, 1993. zodiac : scorpio sun, taurus moon, capricorn rising. place of birth : new york city, new york. current residence : brooklyn, in a one bedroom, studio apartment above the bar she bartends at. gender : demi woman. pronouns : she/they. sexuality : pansexual. occupation : bartender. faceclaim : khadijha red thunder height : 5’9”. tattoos : lightning strike down their left side, her sister’s initials under her left collar bone, a patchwork sleeve from her right shoulder to wrist consisting of at least 20 random tattoos, spiderwebs on the backs of their knees, a snake wrapped around a dagger along her spine, a medusa on their left calf and jellyfish on the right, their tentacles wrapping around to her shin. piercings : triple pierced lobes and double helix on her right ear, triple pierced lobes, double helix, and tragus on her left. septum, and left nostril. distinguishing features : freckles covering most of their face, burns along their left thigh and hip from their nde, and a three inch scar on their right calf, just above their ankle from a childhood bike accident. positive traits : charismatic, tenacious, loyal, hard working. negative traits : ruthless, vengeful, sarcastic, reticent. labels / tropes : tall, hot, ruthless villain with fabulous hair!? idk tbd on a real answer lol. likes : snakes/reptiles, weight lifting, obscene amounts of vaping, vodka sodas, thunderstorms, loud music, collecting sharp objects (mostly pocket knives, but she does own throwing stars, too), double dutch, a lacy bodysuit, jasmine tea. dislikes : emotions, acrylic nails (they always end up melting off when she calls the lightning), tiny yappy dogs, sherpa jackets (the texture gives her the ick), peas, coffee (especially the sugary kind). fears : suffocating, trusting the wrong people. again. hobbies : knife throwing, mixology, working on her charger, lifting, thinking of fun new ways to ruin the men and women who disappoint them, window shopping. habits : twirling pens, straws, and coins (whatever she can get her hands on tbh) along her fingers, cracking her joints (hands, elbows, neck), sucking their teeth when they’re annoyed.

002. EXTRA ORDINARY

NDE

aiyana grew up on the streets of brooklyn with their sister - enola - seeing more than two young girls ever should have bore witness to. yet, they survived. hell, they thrived. the two had grown into competent, independent women that took a relatively shitty childhood circumstances and turned their lives into something to be insanely proud of. the tiny, fixer upper they’d bought had only been theirs for six months when the storm rolled in. it was the height of summer and dry lightning split the sky, threatening to unleash a torrent of rain. aiyana wished it would have. a crack of lightning struck their home, setting it ablaze as if it were mere kindling. it took seconds for the sisters to become trapped and smoke to fill the tiny space, smothering them. yana was ready to all but drag their baby sister out of the house when a piece of the roof caved in, landing on aiyana’s left leg. she was trapped. more debris continued to fall, further trapping aiyana and enola. all yana could think of was staying alive long enough to get. her sister. out. she couldn’t die under this stupid fucking house. she wouldn’t. not if it meant losing the one thing that held her together in the moments that yana felt like she was being ripped apart at the seams. the sirens had just come within earshot when aiyana finally managed to shove the fiery debris off of her leg. painstakingly slowly, yana crawled her way to enola, but it was too late. she would later find out that the smoke inhalation had been the thing to kill their sister. fucking smoke. still, even if the rational part of her brain knew enola was gone, yana wasn’t letting go. she could still save her somehow and refused to die until she did. yana lost consciousness before the firefighters were able to pull them and enola from the rubble and, while her sister was pronounced dead on scene, aiyana was loaded into the back of an ambulance and rushed to the nearest hospital. days later, yana came to - groggy and confused. as the events from days prior slowly came back to her, an unfamiliar heat coursed through her limbs and energy crackled at her fingertips. panic and pure energy swirled in the pit of her stomach, forming a tight ball of anxiety until a nurse finally broke the news that enola never even made it to the er. a wail ripped through aiyana’s already shredded throat as a crack of lightning split the otherwise clear sky just outside her window. the very lightning that shattered aiyana’s whole world, gave them the power to shatter everyone else’s. and shatter them, she would.

POWER

aiyana’s abilities are limited to charged particles in the earth’s upper atmosphere. she cannot manipulate electric appliances or draw from electric currents used to power them. will she summon lightning to make them explode for dramatic effect? absolutely. every single time. she’s extra af and wildly unapologetic about it. but! it’s easiest when they’re outside to call the lightning. depending on the building, and what was used to build it, can make it more difficult to do so. yana’s abilities may also be amplified by large quantities of conductor in her near vicinity, but it has to be a significant amount. a lake, river, mass amounts of high conductive metals - they’ll all get the job done. the same goes for grounding materials like rubber or plastic - in large amounts, they may stifle her abilities. her abilities also require a significant amount of control - both physical and emotional. the use of their powers quickly drain aiyana, causing massive fatigue and, oddly enough, dehydration. that’s the main reason they started hitting the gym as hard as she does. it took practically no time after her powers manifested to figure out she wasn’t physically up to par with their newfound abilities. flashes of strong emotion of any kind can cause aiyana to lose control of her lightning, both putting others and herself in danger. they’ve always been good at schooling their emotions, but the loss of her sister took a little of that control with her. aiyana has had to shut off any empathy that may have remained in the years since her nde in order to keep those more pesky emotions at bay. emotions too strong can cause aiyana to draw too much power and burn out. it took yana a solid year before they had any real control over the lightning. their grief was still too raw and she’d yet to figure out how to fit it in the tiny little box in the back of her mind. once they figured out how to compartmentalize her emotions and stow them away, aiyana was off to the races. in the past six years, yana has - for the most part - mastered their abilities.

VULNERABILITIES & DRAWBACKS

use of her powers, especially when yana uses significant amounts or for longer periods of time, causes static electricity. she’ll accidentally shock people for days afterwards. it’s easily one of their least favorite side effects of being an eo. there’s also the exhaustion and dehydration, though they’ve come to combat those fairly easily in the years since their nde. occasionally, when an unexpected emotion hits - which is rare these days - and she’s holding any sort of device that requires electricity, she’ll short circuit it. yana has burnt out a few too many iphone components for her liking, if we’re being honest. over the years, aiyana has come to feel at home with the slight hum that her powers bring. being cut off from the lightning now would almost feel like cutting off a limb. any sort of eos power with the ability to smother or overload them with electricity would be detrimental and, though she’s loath to admit it, terrifying.

CODENAME

aiyana hates the whole codename thing. theirs was bestowed upon them by some geeky superhero blogger that decided she needed some whack moniker as well. she prefers to go by her given name, but has accepted that there’s less than nothing they can do about the codename. though, get her in the right mood and she may give ya a little zap.

003. EXTRA

honestly…if you made it through all that mess, bless you.

stats. pinterest. wc.

there will be a full wanted connections page, but until i get my shit together and get that finished, have some more mess.

fellow baddies! give me a gang of just…the best of the worst. let them be hot! do crime! wreck all the havoc humanly possible. i really just want shenanigans, tbh.

uhhhhh someone to remind yana she is human? and has emotions? and they’re not the worst thing to have? they’ll hate it and i’m really living for it. can be platonic or romantic or somewhere in between. i’m truly not picky. just make them feel the things, pls. i beg.

i also beg for found family type ish. aiyana is v much on her own and she’ll never admit it but she capital h Hates it. it would have been a JourneyTM to get to the familial point, but she needs it. their love language is bullying, though, so uuuuhhh sorry?

hook. ups. yana is so insanely sex positive and they are not shy about it.

perhaps an ex? long term relationships haven’t been yana’s jam in years, but it’s possible she has at least one. mayhaps two?

literally anything. throw it at me. i'll eat it up.

#cc.intro #cc.task #so this is way too long and i'm so sorry #there are no typos if you see one .....lies

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maddiem4-writes · 8 months

Text

Lime Slushie

I told y'all I'd write a sequel to that last piece, and yes, it's hornier. In fact, from a literary standpoint, I probably should have broken this into multiple chapters, but I didn't, because I wanted to keep my promise about this being the smut chapter. You're welcome :D

Place yourself in a verdant field, with the distant sounds of children climbing on a playground, a handful of ultimate frisbee players being a little too competitive about it, and the distant sounds of traffic, all seemingly muted by the quiet hum of life itself growing at its calm and everlasting pace. Time stretches on a day like this, but it never thins. There's shade under the trees, for those who want it. Vendors hawking various snacks. And in one particular patch of grass, bathed in sunlight...

A gnat buzzed in my ear, and I shooed it away lazily, drowsy in the sun. God, how I loved the sun. To think I'd ever seriously considered giving it up… the idea felt absurd to me now. The cheap beach towel under me, ratty as it objectively was, felt luxurious pressed between my tan skin and the freshly mowed lawn of La Vista Park. Late spring felt like my birthright, and I soaked it in with the casual entitlement of a queen.

There are certain emotions you eventually give yourself license to, when you get old enough to let go of the bullshit. Certain kinds of confidence, an unwillingness to live by anyone else's standards. My airbrushed purple bikini was starting to look a bit out of date these days, and my body wasn't perfectly trim like a magazine model - but nobody stealing glances at me seemed to be bothered, and neither was I. It wasn't so bad to look younger than I was. Let them look, and let them blush. I didn't mind.

I was laying there like a reptile when I heard him. Even still, there are moments where I think the footsteps are his - my eyes opened a little quicker than I would have liked. But it was just… some guy. Some guy who was clearly attempting to summon a lot of borrowed courage from any generous god or demon willing to oblige. I gave him something that bordered on a smirk. I leaned forward, and broke the ice directly.

"I don't bite, you know. Missed my window for it." I gave him a sweet smile, a generous tableau of canines and incisors.

He sputtered nervously, disposable paper cup shaking in his hand, and the straw shaking even harder. For a moment, anyways. He regained his composure well, and earned a tick more of my attention by doing so. Not just prey, this one. Interesting.

"I was wondering if, maybe, you'd like a slushie from the cart over there. The piña colada's really good. Like…", he struggled visibly with his words, "really really good."

I reached down and picked up a half-empty cup of my own. "Oh, I've got it covered." I took a sip of the bright green slush. "Lime flavor. That's pretty good too."

"Ooh!" he leaned down to examine it. "I didn't see that flavor on the sign."

I winked. "It's my favorite. Reminds me of home. Doesn't taste like actual limes though, it's the artificial, candy kind of lime. When it's sour enough, it makes your mouth water, so it's extra refreshing, you know?" I took another sip, drawing the cup back from his prying eyes, and savored the sensation washing over my tongue. "That's the good shit."

"I'll make a note of that. Especially since summer's just about here. Which… you're definitely dressed for." He blushed a little. Cutie.

"Who am I to argue with the weather? It's a hot day, I might as well dress for it. Life's too short - or, maybe too long - to worry what people think." I leaned forward a little, looked him in the eye. "If anything, I think they like it. If they allow themselves to admit it, that is."

He blushed even redder, but didn't look away. He looked me up and down, like he'd granted himself some permission to do so. "I… I'll admit it, yeah."

I held out my hand to shake. "That makes you more honest than most men I meet. And still polite, in a world where it seems like every guy is just one or the other. Congratulations on riding the line, Mr. ….?"

He seemed to shake out of a trance, a little bit. "Shaw!" He reached out with his slushie-holding hand, caught himself, swapped it to the other hand, and tried again with his now-icy right hand one more time. "Alan Shaw. Pleased to meet you."

I took his hand lightly, and shook. "Elizabeth. Just Elizabeth."

"You don't have a last name?"

"Oh, I do." I grinned at him. "I have it, and I love it, and I'm fiercely protective of it. That's why I keep it all to myself." I realized we'd stopped shaking, and I was still holding his hand. The gentle dappled shadow of the sugar maple leaves swayed over us and back again. He felt so alive, and I felt alive with him.

"Elizabeth, No Last Name Given. Alright." He seemed uncertain, but intrigued. "How about a phone number?"

I laughed. "Nothing in service. You got a phone, though?"

"Yes?"

"Good. Help me up." He lifted me to my feet by my hand. I was unsteady for a moment, I felt like I'd softened in the sunlight, all rubbery-legged. I shook it off, and held my other hand out. "Phone?"

He handed it to me hesitantly. "Who are you calling?"

I didn't look up at him, focusing on the screen. "Nobody. I need to check something, real quick, while I have the chance…" These days everyone's phone was pretty fancy and different from each other, which is not an ideal combination if you're always borrowing phones, but I figured out how to do a web search. I frowned.

He stared at me. "What?"

I shrugged. "Nothing."

He popped his head over before I could stop him. "Wait, what? You a sports fan?"

"Me? I couldn't care less. But my best friend is."

He scratched his head. "Eagles, huh? I don't exactly follow sports myself. I had no idea they were taking off this year. Your friend, are they from Philly?"

I handed back the phone, screen privacy now entirely pointless. "Originally."

He looked at the screen himself. "They must be real excited. A shot at winning the Super Bowl, huh? That's gotta be a huge deal for them."

I pursed my lips and stared off into space. "Couldn't be bigger, honestly."

He finally looked up. "Shit. Sorry. I feel like I just invaded something personal."

I held my arm and looked down. "A bit, yeah. But you can make it up to me."

He stuffed the phone in the pocket of his shorts. "Anything! You name it. I really didn't mean to step in your private life or anything like that."

I looked up a little, at the markings just visible at the edges of his sleeves. "Anything, huh?" My mind raced, and I answered recklessly. "Then take me home with you."

"…what?"

"Not tonight. Not some scheduled date night you'll never show up to. Take me home now, or nothing." I had to look like I wasn't concentrating. Beach towel. Lime slushie. Hold in position. It was no wonder to me now why I'd felt a magnetism to this man. The risk and the reward were both astronomical, and I was going to chance it. If I was very lucky, this Alan guy would think with his dick. If not…

"N- now?" Come on. "Literally right now?" Yes. Just say yes. "With me?" You're the one, pal.

I shrugged and started rolling up my towel, putting it under my arm. "It's a one-time offer. If you're not interested, that's fine…" I was cursing profusely in my head. "But I'm heading home either way. So better make up your mind fast. I'm a busy woman, not lacking in options."

I think I saw him sweating. The towel wasn't so hard to maintain while I was touching it. I gave him a few seconds to look me over, and picked a direction for "home" in case I needed to take the bluff further. I slurped down the rest of my slushie, and began walking to the nearby trash bin. "Last chance," I said, tossing the empty cup in.

He looked around, debating with himself. "Fuck it. My place isn't fancy, but it isn't far either. Come on." He wasn't even parked far away. Cheap little beige sedan. Perfect.

The buildings passed by out the window, familiar to me by now after a long residence. I watched them go by, then turned to smile at my driver, who was stealing glances at my body. I winked, pulled down my top briefly, and told him: "that's all you get until we get there. Don't crash."

He grinned and saluted me. "Yes, ma'am!" And then turned his attention to the road just in time to slam on the brakes for a red light. God, I couldn't wait to see him naked.

His apartment was a basement with outdoor steps. It smelled damp and earthy, with a bit of fresh grass poking through the mud of the "lawn" that had long since become a walkway to the concrete stairs. There's a musty smell that all basements have, that got stronger as we walked down, and while I didn't mind it, it made me very glad I hadn't died in a basement.

He fiddled with the keys, until they jangled the lock open, and he rushed inside. Good boy. I walked in, and couldn't help but grin. I'd come to the right place, and it was obvious by the… decor. The books left open, the posters with sharpie corrections. I shut the door quietly behind me.

He was frantically trying to clean the place at the last second, apologizing for the mess, and I put my hand on his shoulder. He looked up, and I guided him to standing face to face with me, my finger on his lips. "It's alright. I like the mess. Leave it be."

His breath caught. "Okay."

I leaned in and I kissed him, tongue snaking around his, exploring him. His hands, somewhere between the roughness of a gardener and the softness of a scholar, started tentatively at my hips, then up my torso along the sides, then touching my breasts. Every second he was more urgent, or confident, or both. I reveled in it.

He broke free to breathe. "You taste like lime," he said, almost second-guessing his senses.

"And you taste like piña colada." He had scruffy brown hair, a little too long and shaggy, and I brushed it away as I caressed his face. "You were right. It's really, really good."

He gasped, and worked his fingers under my bikini top, grasping and groping, massaging my nipples. I began to unbuckle his belt with my hands. I soon had it free, and I broke off from kissing him again, and got on my knees for him. I prayed a thank you for the knockoff Persian rug beneath us, softer than the concrete below it, and slid his shorts down.

He was already hard, and I hadn't even done my due diligence of stroking him through the fabric. I knew I'd make up for that in a moment. At least from the waist down, his body was on display for me, and I liked what I saw. He was thin, and his cock was an average length and girth, but his legs had some tone to them, and the scratches on them… yes. I gave him one last look, and I think I must have been adorable, looking him in the eyes as I slid my tongue from his scrotum, up the shaft, all the way to the tip. He shuddered and leaned back against the bookcase behind him as I slid my lips down the length of him. He was salty and delicious.

And by god did I make it worth his while, and mine. I felt him on my whole tongue every time I got all the way down to the base. Up, down, up, down, feeling his fingers entwine in my hair. Hearing his sweet moans. I stopped halfway down, and worked him with my tongue inside my mouth, and I felt him grab a shelf of the bookcase to avoid crumpling to the floor. Emboldened, I pursed my lips for stiffness, so he wouldn't feel my teeth, and I sucked hard, and began bobbing my head like that. I wouldn't have cared if I made him cum then and there. I was lost in it.

His grip tightened on my head, and I knew what was coming next. I reminded myself that the need to breathe was an illusion for me. I couldn't get deader, at least, not this way. Fellatio is always an act of service, but it can seamlessly switch back and forth who's in control, and that's the beauty of it. Alan took control, and started forcing my head down onto him, fucking my face in its pretty little hole. I let myself go limp, even gag. I let him have his way with me. I became an object for his desire. If I'd been alive, I might have stopped him, but by now I'd had some practice pushing my limits.

When he finally pulled me off of him, I had tears running down my face, and a river of spit running out of my mouth and down my chin, with little threads still connecting to the sloppy drench of saliva on his penis. And I was smiling. I was proud. I looked up at him, messy and beaming. My voice was a bit hoarse and wet as I told him: "You can fuck me now, if you want."

He wanted.

He picked me up, hands under my armpits, and threw me against the bed so that I tripped and fell backwards onto it. He towered over me, with that look in his eyes. Knowing he was doing something wrong, something I wanted, something he could barely admit to wanting himself. I should have known he'd be rough with me. He peeled his shirt off, and I gasped. He truly was exactly what I was looking for.

I untied my top and threw it off, and was working off my bikini bottom when he put his hand on my chest and pushed me flat down on the bed. It was only when I went limp for him again that he took the hand back off, and used both hands to slide my panties off of me. He caught me by surprise by burying his face in my pussy, and I put a hand over my mouth to catch my own scream as his tongue slid inside me. His nose was rubbing my clit, and I used my other hand to grip his cotton sheets - a few weeks overdue for washing, and rich with the smell of him - writhing as he tortured me with pleasure.

He just kept going deeper, and then he started using his fingers… he crooked them upwards, finding that spot on the roof, and he stroked along the ridges. He moved his mouth to suck gently on my clit while he fingerfucked me. My body felt like it was on fire, and I moaned loudly. I was helpless to him.

Time seemed to stretch, I don't know how long he did that to me, but it was heaven. But when he stopped, he wiped his face on his arm, like he'd just finished up at a drinking fountain. He scooted me back on the bed. I looked up at him, feeling almost dizzy, so hungry for him to be inside me. He teased my clit with his cock once…. twice…. and then slid all the way in.

He'd lulled me back into a false sense of security with that detour into oral. His lust was greedy and aggressive, and he fucked me like he was trying to fuck the life out of me. I stared up into his eyes, my own glassing over, my brain being rattled into a submissive haze. He held me by the shoulders and drilled himself into me over and over and over again. At one point, he grabbed one of my breasts and fondled it, but the other kept bouncing with the power of his thrusts.

His breathing became harder, more jagged. I tried to nod, but my head was already being shaken up and down too much for it to be noticeable. He was going to cum inside me, and I wanted that so bad. Not for any plan, or ulterior motive. Just for me. Just to feel him do it. He fucked me harder, faster, pushing himself. I felt overstimulated and beyond the reach of reality. He took me for his own. It felt like a flood inside my pussy. I wasn't surprised that he was pent-up, but jesus. It lubricated him further as he kept fucking me, until his muscles spasmed with the roll of the orgasm, and he collapsed onto me, his weight cementing me under him, his cock plugging me full of his seed and preventing a single drop from escaping.

The sudden ending set me off in another orgasm, and I wished I'd been counting, but I'd got lost in the whirlwind of it all. I shook under him, and wrapped my legs around him, holding him even tighter. As close as a person can be. The thought flitted briefly in my head that maybe, just maybe, I'd underestimated my own loneliness. I didn't allow that thought to stay long. I just held him inside me.

We stayed like that for a long time. Interlocked, intersected, whole in a way we couldn't have been individually. We rested like that. When he finally pulled out of me, I lost control of my muscles again for a moment, shivering with stimulation. He rolled over next to me, wrapped his arms around me, and held me from the side. I looked over at him.

He couldn't look me in the eye, even as he held tight to me for comfort. When he finally spoke up, he said, in a simple statement of fact: "they don't sell lime flavor at the cart."

I shook my head. "No." And after a pause: "You've been carving runes in your skin, haven't you?"

He sighed and nodded.

I smiled. "I can show you the memory if you like. And you tell me what you're up to. Just… get dressed first."

He sat up, looking out a thin and pale-blue window of his basement home. "You say that like we both haven't made some huge mistake."

I put my hand on his shoulder blade. It lived up to its name on a thin guy like him, angular and defined. "We haven't. Or at least, I don't think we have. I think we've laid the groundwork to a very mutually beneficial partnership."

"Oh yeah?" he said sarcastically, pulling on a pair of jeans that had been crumpled at the foot of the bed. "Not getting any results in the Ghost4Sorceror section of Craigslist?" But there was a bit of playfulness in the tone. That's how I really knew. Got 'em. I knew you couldn't say no.

"Don't be an ass, hear me out. You tell me your thing, I'll tell you mine. We help each other. Friends with extensive benefits, what's not to love?" My towel and bikini had disappeared… probably an hour ago. My concentration had been elsewhere. I stood up, closed my eyes, and remembered:

SUMMER DAY. AUGUST. LATE 80'S. I WAS WAITING IN LINE AT THE BANK. I WAS WEARING A-

I opened my eyes, dressed in a red skirt and frilly orange top. The outfit had made me feel like a marigold flower, and made enough of an impression that I could remember it clearly, down to the shiny black heels. I felt fresh and clean.

Alan blinked. "That's fucking spooky."

I shrugged. "I'm a spook. And, well, you did just fuck me."

He wrestled his way into an uncooperative graphic tee, boasting a faded and pockmarked Led Zeppelin logo. "True and true. And for the record, I have no problem with spookiness. Obviously. I'm just trying to figure out which kink I've gotten myself into - interspecies, or necrophilia."

I waggled my finger in front of him. "Nuh-uh. Monsterfucker."

He stared at the ceiling in thought. "I can live with being a monsterfucker. Ah, crap, shoes…."

I laughed and offered my hand. "Don't need 'em! But… hold on.'"

He stared at me warily. "Why? Is it like, I'm gonna fall down the vortex of space and time, or fly across the city, or…"

I grabbed his hand. "No, dumbass, it just doesn't work if you let go." I closed my eyes and called up the same memory I had hours ago, when I was settling in at the park this morning.

JULY 4, 1982. SYRACUSE, NEW YORK. I WAS ELEVEN YEARS OLD AND MY DAD TOOK ME TO-

#maddiem4 #writing #elizabeth maroney

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turtlesofhappiness · 1 year

Text

The Hermit

Some of the stories in this blog will involve drawing a tarot card, and applying it to turtles in some way.

You live in a studio apartment above a defunct dry cleaners near the university. It’s lit by two French doors that open onto a rusted Juliet balcony that hangs over the now-inaccurate dry cleaners’ sign. You have a kitchenette, a breakfast island, a captain’s bed with a chest of drawers underneath, a little desk tucked into an alcove, a loveseat, a bookshelf, a monstera plant. There’s a closet for any of your clothes that won’t fit under the bed, an alcove to hang your coat, a shelf for your boots. The bathroom has a tub, and black tiles. It’s nice. It’s all you need.

You come home after work and climb the stairs. More often than not, you splay yourself across the bed. You spent a lot of money on the bed; the mattress is like a mattress in a good hotel. You felt obscurely, when you moved here, that this would be important, and it is. After a while, you get up and heat up the soup you’ve left in the fridge, and then you go to the couch and pick up your tools. In the summer, you open the doors; the voices of passing students and the smell of hot oil from the fish-and-chips place next door filter in. Between the roof of the house across the street and the sprawling maple next to it, you can count three stars.

You could have people over, but you don’t. Instead, you read, and sometimes watch movies, and carve turtles out of wood. You are going to grow old this way, alone, which makes you sad at times. At other times, you reflect that your turtles are objects of immense power and value, and that makes you feel better.

You paint the turtles, once carved, with red lacquer, then rub gold dust on them, then paint them again with black lacquer, then buff them with sandpaper or dab at them with paint thinner so that they reveal patches of colour. You carve the head and legs and hang them from secret hooks within the shells so that they bob and move about independently. You murmur incantations over the turtles, things you’ve made up for the purpose and polished over time. An example of a turtle incantation might be:

Luminous reptile!

Emblem of certitude!

Stay gold.

You imbue each turtle with magical intentions: one turtle may possess the quality of strong intuition, another, inner strength. You imagine, firmly, that this will give them power over the fates of the people who wind up owning them. Every Sunday in the summer you take a wooden chest of turtles down to Kensington Market, where you lay them out on a rug next to the guy with the ayahuasca-inspired neon cloth paintings of tree frogs. At first, the guy (Carlos is his name) viewed you with suspicion, as competition; but eventually it became clear that your interests meshed, that you were symbionts. In fact, Carlos eventually invited you to an ayahuasca ceremony at his place, and you accepted.

You’d heard that ayahuasca was capable of bringing about immense transformations in people, imparting clarity of purpose in those who had previously only drifted through life. The prospect filled you with a faint, quivering hope. During the ceremony, you vomited into a metal bowl for over an hour; then, a puma appeared, crouched on the hand-painted carpet in Carlos’s living room. It looked into your eyes, and you understood that living alone and carving turtles was in fact the correct path for you; and that you were going to die of stomach cancer before you reached 60 anyway.

This sounds depressing, when I write it down like this, but to you it truly felt like a weight lifted from your shoulders. You had worried so much, over the years, about what path you should take through life, and here it turned out that you’d been on it all along, that you couldn’t have done otherwise, that everything was soothingly foreordained, written in strong black ink in nice calligraphy in a book with gold dust rubbed along its fore-edge. You could sink happily into your loveseat at the end of the working day (you work in the marketing department for a midsize pharmaceutical company) and bring out your carving tools, your brushes, your miniature pliers and your sandpaper and buffing cloths, and do exactly what the Universe intended you to do.

In fact, this knowledge sat so softly with you, sank into your bones so sweetly and completely, that you became, privately, and still are now, a kind of saint. You radiate kindness and contentment. You leave a trail of soft blue certitude wherever you go, and passersby inhale it and are better. And when you are dying, at 56, of pneumonia following treatment for stomach cancer, you will be taken into a hospice for the lonely and indigent, and treated with such loving care by the people there that you will almost regret taking your leave of life.

#turtles #path

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electricbluebutterflies · 2 years

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“ i’m sorry for bringing it up. “ “ actually, i would love to kiss you.” for the fic prompt :)

Apparently I have a modern-AU continuity for these babes now? Sequel-ish to this fic, PG-ish, usual queued cross-post, why am I even posting these here...

This was a terrible idea.

Normal people, Jessica is pretty sure, do not go to the zoo on a maybe-first-date-honestly-she-isn’t-sure-if-that’s-what-it-is. Not at her age, at least. Not when there are bars and cinemas and… honestly, she doesn’t know what normal people do, she’s just pretty sure it isn’t this. But for the first time in her little life, she wants, and if that means dealing with the misery of a too-hot summer Saturday in the company of someone she barely knows and whose intentions are unclear yet somehow honorable, not to mention the fact that she’s pretty sure the only women older than her here without small children to herd around were that pair holding hands in the reptile house aka the only place in this complex that is not sneak-peek-at-hell hot…

Well. Terrible idea. But she’s suffered through worse for more questionable reasons. She’s pretty sure, anyways. She can’t remember when or why, but this can’t be the actual low point of self-inflicted misery. Yet.

See, thing is, Jessica is not an animal person. She’s never had pets nor wanted anything more complicated than a rescued cactus that may or may not be wilting despite the fact that those things supposedly thrive on neglect. Exotic-looking beasties are at least a little more eye-catching than her upstairs neighbor’s insomniac small dog that looks like a rat watched a few too many child beauty pageants, but that’s not saying much. Although come to think of it, watching one of these wildcats eat that thing would be fun, and that’ll be a nice mental image at three AM the next time she’s reminded that mutant chihuahuas can apparently have panic attacks, and-

“You okay?”

She turns her head to glare at her… date? Friend? Whatever word you use for someone you may be lowkey trauma-bonded to because you’ve already had one weird experience in their company and for some unknown bullshit (emotional and probably sexual) reason you’ve decided to let them ruin your life? The lack of an appropriate label is not helping here, and-

“I think this is the hell I’ll get sent to someday,” she murmurs. “Forced to watch badly socialized tiny humans watch bored animals that would much prefer to have them for a snack. Can’t say I blame them either.”

A different version of herself – one with more people skills than said under-stimulated wildcat, for instance – would try harder. Would remind herself that this man, for some bizarre reason she can’t figure out, may or may not but probably does have some kind of interest in her that… will probably end a direction she’s not sure about, but couldn’t be worse than what she’d compare it to, and-

“You volunteer for a lot of things you don’t actually want to do.”

“I don’t get out much.”

He gives her a look that she can’t pin down, some combo of no shit and maybe a little pity but not in a mean way, more like the warmest thing she could imagine and wow she really doesn’t get out much and-

“And I get to change that,” but it doesn’t sound at all like he minds and that just makes it weirder.

“You had good timing,” she shrugs. “And more tact than the last time someone tried to ask me out. If that’s even what this is, and if it isn’t I-“

“It is if you want it to be.”

“And if I’m not sure?”

“Then it can be two casual acquaintances questioning why this was actually a good idea. Whatever you want.”

“So you don’t really…”

“I was trying to think of the most low-pressure activity possible and this is what came out. Mistakes may have been made.”

She doesn’t respond right away, takes a few moments to process it all. They don��t know each other yet, she reminds herself, and she could be very wrong about so many things but… he doesn’t strike her as someone who admits weakness or defeat easily, and yet he’s so casual with her about it, and-

Shit. She’s pretty sure no one’s ever had a crush on her before – and is that even an okay word to use at their ages? Is that something normal people do anymore, or are modern mating habits reduced to near-anonymous encounters that would make the wildcat domestic argument enfolding in front of her seem downright romantic? She doesn’t know, she doesn’t know, she doesn’t-

“This is your idea of low-pressure?” she laughs, gesturing to the scene around them. “Really?”

“Midday, outdoors, lots of people around, cheap tickets, plenty of things to see…”

“So, you’re trying to convince me that you’re not… I don’t even know what you’re afraid of, but I don’t see you as a threat.”

“So this was a bad idea.”

“It is an experience,” she decides is a tactful way of putting it. “And I’m guessing this isn’t how you normally start with women?”

“If I say I don’t have any idea what I’m doing, will you believe me?”

She gives him the most unimpressed look she can manage. She wants to believe him – she wants too many things today, she thinks – but the same questions she had when their paths crossed a few weeks ago come up, the same uncertainties. He’s beautiful, seems to have his life together, has acted perfectly towards her, not even the tiniest little red flag yet and a man like that, she thinks, should not be alone without reason and-

“Really?”

“Not with… not like this. Situations that have felt like obligations, yes, and the goal was generally to get to a point of damage control as quickly as possible. Not actually caring.”

It’s cold in a way she understands all too well, and it feels right to reach for his hand, to allow this to be what it could be. Touch feels right, familiar somehow, like some part of her deep-buried heart has been waiting too long for all of this and-

“Still more than I’ve done. One manic weekend a few years ago was… enough.”

He looks concerned – he shows emotions so easily, she thinks, and that could make her life easier someday and that’s too much to hope for and-

“No pressure. About anything. I just… you’re fascinating, and I…”

She feels cold, like this is the point where she should be strengthening every defense she’s ever had because this will end badly, but oh she wants to know where this goes, if it goes anywhere, if-

“Okay.”

They move on – the wildcats have witnessed enough, poor dears – and for a little while she can forget that this is all new, that all of it and none of it is normal, that she is-

It’s not that she never wanted things, she reminds herself, she’d just… learned too early that her heart was meaningless and hoping for some other person to save her would only end in even more pain. By the time she was old enough to do anything about them, the daydreams were faded, and she has avoided all she can out of fear of what might be done to her if she was vulnerable and-

He’s kind, and that’s so much of a problem, and it feels right to keep her fingers laced with his, to learn innocent closeness and oh there is something calming about it, they do not know each other but they could and it could be beautiful it could burn her it could-

They make it into the gardens, and weird plants are a little more interesting to her than weird animals and yet she is unsurprised and hopeful when he turns to face her with some kind of intent in his eyes. Desire, she thinks, not an inferno as she’s understood it in theory but a well-kept hearth, and-

“Would it be alright if I kissed you?”

The body is a traitor. She feels herself turn pink, the directness of the statement overriding what mental presence she’d had, and-

“I… I’m sorry for bringing it up.” Not moving but still a distance, still something she wants to take and never see again.

“Actually, I would love to kiss you.”

And she does, because she’s sick of wanting, because she’s not sure if this is normal but it’s at least safe, and she’s never done this in a way that meant anything and it’s awkward as hell and still feels unspeakably right. Like the original idea of soulmates, almost, the idea that an individual human body is only half of a set and-

If this goes somewhere, if she allows more – when she allows more, she thinks as his free hand gets up in her hair and turns out she likes that – it will be the best thing she’s ever done.

“Before you even, I liked that,” she breathes, not ready to pull away, not caring that they are somewhat in public and hey at least this isn’t the part of the complex small children actually want to see so at least they won’t cause awkwardness for anyone else today (hopefully). “And I would like that again somewhere we’re not blocking a footpath.”

“And next time I should take you somewhere indoors.”

“I can handle the heat. Not so much the screaming small children.”

“Understood.”

He kisses her forehead before they break apart, and yeah, she thinks, this is headed somewhere and she will allow it. She will allow so much. She will-

“Thank you.”

“For?”

“Moving slowly.”

“Wouldn’t dream otherwise.”

#ebf writes fic #leto x jessica #queue

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