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pedgito · 3 months

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MILLER'S GIRL ✎ SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter Three: Forbidden Fruit

Chapter Summary: Mr. Miller receives your assignment in it's full detailed exposé and despite his reaction, doesn't seem as pleased as you anticipated. It leads to a tense interaction that lands you in his office with more questions and confusion. [4k]

[student/teacher relationship, age gap, no outbreak, power dynamic]

Chapter Warnings: fem!reader, professor!joel miller (his teacher persona is v different from outside of the classroom, so if he seems slightly ooc....close your eyes), dom!joel, sub!reader, reader is a little obsessed with joel (and delusional), background tess x joel, inappropriate relationships/actions, masturbation (m), confrontations, joel manhandling reader (kinda roughly), panty ripping, one (1) forbidden kiss

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Joel takes the plunge into the assignments the following night—it was a small class so he knew it wouldn’t take a large chunk of time, a couple hours at the end of his day and he’d have it out of the way and grades posted before the following morning. It was always easier to do things this way, hidden away in his office to force his focus and block out the rest of what was going on.

He flies through the assignments with a detailed precision, giving proper and full notes on things he thinks the students could work on or tweak, give some personal thoughts on creativity, and allow some encouragement where it was needed.

But, your name sits in the bottom of his inbox, bold lettered and unread—he saved it for last.

He could lie and say he didn’t do it on purpose, but he’s come to thoroughly enjoy your writing, so he pushes it off until it’s the final thing he has to grade that night. He knows Tess should be arriving home soon, so despite his want to give you his full, undivided attention—he intends to give it a quick skim.

Joel knows there’s no real notes he can give you. You always had a clear idea on your work, so meticulously planned out that it reminded him of himself in a way.

He takes a sip of the quickly dissipating bourbon in the cup sitting on his desk, ice clinking against the glass as he clicks on your essay and watches it expand onto the screen.

He likes to jot down his thoughts on paper as he goes, making it easier to format and type as he replies—he grips the pencil tight, reading the title of your essay.

ill-suited innocence

In a crowd she finds herself searching, looking for him. Days and days of tense glances and inappropriate thoughts—he must share them too? While she can’t be bothered by the fantasy of mythical creatures and things that only made sense in fiction, she did believe in the fantasy of wanting what she couldn’t have. Him.

Much older, wiser—grim around the eyes and a deep sorrow that burrowed its way into his chest and made home. He couldn’t fix himself, but she could. At least, she thinks she could.

Joel straightened his back, leaning into the screen to assure himself he wasn’t misreading. It was…an interesting take on the assignment he gave you, but he’ll bite. He’s used to your stuff being a little more unorthodox.

Something along the lines of forbidden fantasy? A tale of love? It wasn’t his particular choice of fiction but he wasn’t opposed to it. He squints, reading more.

He drops the pencil for a moment

Their lives mundane and unassuming, they traverse through life with little enjoyment. Two sides of the same coin and he was too oblivious to realize. He offered smiles and kind words, guidance that seemed from a good place but only allowed her to feel more misdirection. He was an enigma, difficult to decipher and she craved him.

And though he tries to fight whatever attraction he may feel, she can see it in his tense gaze. The lingering touches he leaves on her body. Secret meetings, talks that allowed themselves to be more deep than should be allowed. He was allowing her in little by little but she needed more.

She just had to ask, so she did.

Joel feels a tightening deep in his gut that wasn’t there before, reading between the lines of text and allowing faint glimpses of memories with you to match themselves with the words—his brow furrowing under the guise of…anger? No, frustration. He shouldn’t be equating his perfectly…appropriate relationship with you to this. In fact, it shouldn’t cross his mind. But, it does.

All of this from a dream? He could lie and say he wasn't intrigued, but that wasn't the case.

Joel doesn’t expect the full 180 turn as he glances down at the chunk of text that follows.

“You’re my student,” He whispers to her, “I can’t allow this.”

She bites at her lip, noticing the subtle click of his heels as they hit the floor, back them against his desk as she takes a seat, plastic cup full of pencils falling to the floor but neither of their eyes leaving each other.

“You can,” She encourages, “I’m hardly a student anymore. I’m a friend. We’re friends, right?”

And given his ability to let her in so easily, he also considered her a friend. Naively. He’s gotten himself into this position and he can’t find a reason to not give her what she wants—what he wants.

He captures her lips in a searing kiss, much less polite than a friend would, her fingers quickly undoing his belt—

Joel feels his cock hardening under the confines of his slacks, clearing his throat slightly. He should stop reading—he knows he should. The glaringly obvious lines being crossed are blurred for a moment. He shouldn’t have led you on like this, allowed you to cook up some depraved illusion of what you thought things could be.

Because they couldn’t. That wasn’t what this was. Joel had told himself over and over—he was helping. He didn’t think you’d take advantage of the scenario like this. Still, he finds himself loosening the buckle of his belt as well, unzipping his pants enough that he can stuff his hand into the tight space between his bare cock and briefs, palming himself impatiently.

And he skims—words sticking and fading in his mind. It starts of with a slow, sensual make out and a messily described handjob that has his cocking throbbing with every tight stroke he pulls at his shaft, eventually tired of fighting the tight space he’s allowed with his slacks making it impossible to move, he leans back and pulls his cock out far enough that he has free, unrestrained range. The bourbon glass leaves a sweat ring on the oak of his desk but Joel can’t be bothered, he scrolls down further, taking in the last few scenes that allowed him a full idea of just what exactly you thought was going on between the both of you. Or, what you wanted to happen.

He allows himself a moment to slip out of his headspace and imagine, selfishly.

Bent over the desk, items scattered to the floor he pulled at her skirt, something she wore necessarily—easy access, she whispered against his lips before he bent her fully over the desk, chest pressed against the solid wood.

Joel imagines it vividly, his breath quickening as he tugs at his cock in rough, fast strokes and pictures it—you, bent over his desk and your ass presented to him like a prize and how good it would feel to squeeze the flesh between his hands. He knows your sounds would be sweet, divine, and it drives him wild.

He’s thought about you before like this, hand wrapped around his cock, but never in full detail as you’d written out.

And then he slips his cock inside of her, a small gasp of, “Just like that, professor.” falling from her lips and it only spurs Joel deeper into his despair, tugging himself until he feels his orgasm creeping up on him, a churning in his gut that feels too good to quit and he reads out the last few lines, as he comes deep inside of, recklessly and without much decision making.

He thought you were smarter than this. Expected more out of you.

There’s a creak of a floorboard down the hall that sends his world crashing down on him, dampening his orgasm almost immediately as he scrambles to shove himself back inside of his slacks, buttoning and buckling his belt hastily as he clicks out of his browsers and feigns exhaustion, Tess’s fingers curling around the doorknob as she peeks her head in, watching as Joel’s fingers circled the glass of liquor.

God, he hates her.

Not you. Tess.

He figured his reasoning was valid, but truthfully—he just couldn’t stand her any longer. He's been battling the decision to go through with his divorce, but this seemed like as big a sign as ever. It's the unbridled rage he was tired of harboring around her, trying to act like things were fine.

Nothing was fine and his life was imploding.

He was lusting after a student and worse, he know you were after him—actively, clear in the boldness you showed through your assignment.

He thinks back briefly on the video call that he shouldn’t have allowed, your question that seemed…vague but unassuming. Had you planned this the entire time?

Was he just that stupid to not see it?

“Coming to bed tonight?” Tess asks hesitantly.

Joel offers a clear and concise, “No.”

He wasn’t sure if he could even sleep, contemplating over how to handle this…situation.

He couldn’t allow it to stray further.

It would damage his career and ruin his life.

But truthfully, he felt like he’d already reached that point, so what did he have to lose?

You wake up on Monday with a deep pit in your chest, knowing that grades were posted that morning. You knew it was a risk, being so open with him—but he couldn’t fail you. You followed the parameters of the assignment and made sure to clear the few questions you had with him.

Part of you is expecting another email from his private account, wondering his thoughts beyond what he would address appropriately. But, the moment your eyes drag along the screen, still blurry from sleep, you feel your heart stop.

0/100. A complete failure.

No comment besides—Rewrite and resend immediately. No extension. Due by the end of the day.

Your jaw clenches in frustration.

Oh, you were not being ignored that easily.

You storm into his room later that day during your free hour for lunch, knowing he’d be saddled up at his desk eating his own lunch.

You couldn’t even think about eating, full of anger and annoyance that kept you full and ready to strike. He can hear your footsteps before you approach and is wiping at his mouth with a napkin when you stop at his desk.

He holds a hand up, face steely and emotionless.

For a moment, you think he might break. Crack a smile and say it was an excuse to get you here.

Instead, he has your essay printed out and ready to shove at you, your fingers curling around the stack and crinkling the edges.

“You can’t fail me,” You start tensely, “I did your stupid assignment and I followed the steps you asked for.”

“I expect a new one by the end of the day. Appropriate to the topic. End of discussion.”

You scoff, not daring to look at the glaring zero he drew out on the paper just to prove a point. It lands in the trash as you throw it down, “No.”

Joel’s chair squeaks as he rises and it startles you slightly, and suddenly he’s invading your space, the muscles in his neck tightening as he pointed an accusatory finger at the trashed papers.

“In what situation did you think any of that was appropriate to write and send to your professor?” Joel asks, noting the way you blink quickly, backing away slightly.

He almost…feels bad? No. He quickly wipes the thought away as more anger crosses your face, eyes dilating in rage.

You lean in slightly, thankful that the halls were quiet around this time of day and that you had closed the door behind you.

“You started this,” You argue, “You crossed that line when you messaged me on a private email. Telling me that you liked the time we spent together. I’m your student—maybe you should’ve taken that into account first.”

His fist clenched at his side, almost to restrain himself, knowing he’d rather shove that finger into your chest and blame you. But, you were both to blame. And he even more so. Still, he doubles down.

“Rewrite it or I’ll fail you for the entire semester.”

Your mouth gapes open, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“That’s…completely unfair.” You settle, voice softer as you drop the act. “I just—”

“Rewrite it.” Joel responds firmly.

“Mr. Miller—” You begin, trying to find a feasible way to get him to listen.

“Or I fail you.” He says with finality. “You’re lucky I don’t take this to the board.”

Which, he never would. He’s just as much at fault. But, he’s taking his frustration out on you. An easy target, slim pickings.

You weren’t playing into that though, not now.

“You won’t,” You challenge him, “because if you do—I can assure you, you won’t appreciate the results.”

It was a threat. Cold and plain.

“Rewrite it,” He reiterates again, his voice softer now. “I have to submit these assignments at the end of the semester and if—that cannot be in there. I need a real essay. Real. Not some fucking delusion.”

It’s the first time he’s talked so…out of term. It feels like him, the real Mr. Miller.

Fine—you’ll write the goddamn essay as he intended. You roll your eyes and Joel relaxes slightly, seeing your defeat as you settle your shoulders back.

“I want it on my desk by the end of day.”

Sure, you could manage that.

If anything, it gave you more of an excuse to drag out his torture a little longer.

You spend the entirety of his class working out a new essay, bullshitting your way through an hour of class and typing up something feasible enough to get you a decent grade, knowing that his views of you were already tainted. But, that didn’t matter.

You had plans.

When evening rolls around and classes are finally done for the day, you make the long trek across campus to his class, finding it empty but spotting the light in his private office is still on, a low and muted orange that shined through the window. You approach slowly and knock on the door, hearing his muffled greeting on the other side.

You peek inside, noting his position as he rests with his fist pressed against the side of his face, seemingly nursing a headache as he rubs the fingers of his free hand over his forehead and sighs, closing his laptop as you hold out the small stack of papers for him to grab. He does, skimming through it briefly. You toss your bag off your shoulder and rest it in a nearby chair, standing quietly.

“Something bothering you?” You ask politely, hands crossed over your front as fiddled idly with your fingers, “Mr. Miller?”

He looks up tensely, eyes darkened and foreboding.

“What did you mean earlier?” He asks suddenly, reading your essay with a careful eye. Scribbling something down before he pushes it away, fingers clasped together under his chin as he gives you his full attention. “That I wouldn’t…appreciate the results?”

“Oh, that was—”

A threat. He knows it. You know it.

And he voices it.

“It was a threat, wasn’t it?” He asks coarsely, his voice sounding rough.

He seemed worse for wear, with good reason.

The dignified squeak of his chair is like deja-vu but you don’t back away this time, turning to him as he rounds his desk—his tie is gone, starch pressed shirt unbuttoned to a dangerous degree and his belt is missing, your eyes tracking it in a nearby corner where it’s slung over an empty chair.

He allowed you in here, the small glimpse of his relaxed state. He wasn’t shutting you out necessarily, which was good. But, you still felt unwanted. It was almost like he was dangling a myriad of fruit in front of you, ripe for the taking, but riddled with poison. Forbidden.

“No—”

He grabs your wrist suddenly, tight and gasp-inducing as he pulls it up until it’s level between you both, right at chest level and you’re waiting for him to let go, but he doesn’t.

“Tell. The. Truth.” He says pointedly, a small jerk of your arm with every syllable as he pulls you undoubtedly closer, “I want to hear it.”

Instead of admitting that you did openly threaten him, you switch gears.

“What? That I want you to fuck me?” You ask innocently, pulling your wrist away harshly. “Joel, come on—don’t act like you haven’t thought about it.”

His name is like a gut-punch, a reminder that he gave you that information under the idea that you would keep it safe, but now you were using it against him.

“Don’t—” He warns and your hands press into his crisp button-up, scrunching the fabric in an effort to wrinkle it, feeling the solid press of muscle under your hands that makes your mouth water, eyes widening slightly at the touch and for a split second, he allows it.

He had to escape the situation before he acted on something he would regret.

“Get out.” Joel responds through gritted teeth, shoving your hands away harshly and in turn, forcing you back a few steps with the urgency of it. “Now.”

Still, you step closer, chest against chest as you can feel the distinct bulge in his slacks against your front, tongue clicking in your mouth as you cocked your head to the side mockingly, a finger tracing along the buttons of his shirt until you can curl the tip of it around the hem of his pants.

“You can do it, you know,” You offer, “You could fuck me right now and I wouldn’t tell a soul, not even your wife—or…ex-wife? I’m not sure since you never wear your ring.”

Fuck this and her smart ass mouth, Joel thinks.

Joel’s nostrils flare and he snaps, backing you into the wall by his hand pressed against your chest, the bookshelf beside you shaking with the force. His hands creep up your neck, pressing rigid against the skin and he keeps you there, trapped.

“I can feel it,” You tease through strained vocal cords, his finger squeezing against your neck–not quite cutting off air flow, but the pressure is there and you feel it. It makes your head swim, squirming against his hold as he shifts closer, body pressed against your own firmly, “is that why you asked me to turn the paper in by the end of the day? You wanted me here, didn’t you? I guess my essay did strike a nerve after all.”

The laugh that follows is sickening, a grin appearing under his sneer. His fingers move up a few inches to grip your face. Hard. Squeezing until he feels the solid press of your cheekbones under his thumb and he speaks, so quietly into the space you can barely hear him, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Your eyes drift to his, his head tilting up slightly away from your ear that he had whispered into and there’s glint in your eye. It’s exactly what you wanted. You wanted to burrow yourself under his skin so he couldn't get rid of you.

He feels your fingers continue to trace along the seam of his shirt, tracing over the bumps of the material until you meet his slacks, pressing your palm flat over his cock, hardened under the material and straining–and he can’t help the way his breath intakes sharply, the full body restraint it takes to not rut into your hand. He knows he has the upper hand here, but with the small amount of effort it takes to break his revere for himself, he doesn’t know how much longer he can keep this up.

“I would,” You nod slowly, eyebrows furrowing as he tightens his grip with your admittance and in turn, you squeeze him just a little harder. He hisses and leans in, letting go of your face to return to your neck–he isn’t squeezing this time, but his hand is a solid presence. You move, he moves. And if he doesn’t like how you move, you would end up exactly where he wants you to, “Come on, Joel. You read all about it. I can do so much more than whatever your wife is doing—isn’t that why you reached out to me?”

“Don’t—stop saying my name.” He warns, trying to keep what little line of professionalism he had between you there, unblurred. “I reached out to help. As your mentor.”

“Well, I’m sure there’s a few things you could teach me.” You say sweetly, the deft sound of his zipper being undone by your hand, popping the button on his pants, “Joel, please.”

He stops your hand in it’s decent, fingers tracing along the hem of his underwear before he’s gripping your arm and turning you with little resistance on your end, front pressed harshly against the stucco wall, a sharp gasp emitting from your throat as he crowds you in again, whispering harshly into your ear, “Mr. Miller. Not Joel. You don’t get that privilege. And stop talking about my fucking wife.”

You moan brokenly at the feeling of his cock pressed against your ass, skirt riding up your thighs and you were sure—positive that Joel could see the fabric of your underwear clinging to your hips from how high up and mused your skirt was now, but he can’t take his eyes of your face, anger emitting from his own and suffocating you like a blanket.

You were pressing his buttons just right and he hated it.

“So, no marital troubles then?” You pester him and he shuts you up immediately, palm covering your mouth tightly as his free hand grips at the hem of your underwear at your hip and tugs—yep, he saw them. Some soft color, all lacy, meant to be attention-grabbing. And if Joel couldn’t have you the way he truly desires, he’d make you wish you could have it even worse than he wanted it. “You—huh, you can’t even wear your wedding ring, Mr. Miller—don’t lie to me.”

He pulls at the material of your panties until they’re riding up your ass slightly, pulled tighter against your cunt and the drag of the material against your clit is almost unexpected. He’s pointedly avoiding touching you so intimately, teetering on the edge of not enough and too much.

“You thought it would be that easy?” Joel asks testingly, jerking your head slightly when you don’t answer. You figured it was redundant but clearly not. You mumble against his hand, overwhelmed by his touch that all you can do is nod, forehead pressed against the wall as he breathes down your neck. “You’re mistaken.”

There’s a distinct rip of fabric as he removes his hand from your mouth quickly using his hands to grip your panties in tight fists, tearing it apart as it falls from your body and you think he might just do it—shove his slacks just far enough down his thighs and slip inside of you, bring an end to all of your suffering.

And his own.

Instead his fingers tighten around your forearm, spinning you in his hold and shoving the ripped fabric into your hand, leaving you bare under your skirt and exposed and Joel doesn’t mistake the wetness on the material. His fingers linger over your palm and you scoff, adjusting your skirt and slightly skewed shirt.

“Keep them,” You challenge, shoving the material into his chest before he allows them to drop to the floor, eyes trailing your departing figure as you reach for your discarded bag, “a gift for your wife—you know, the one who you avoided to spend time with me. Right?”

You want the words to linger and sting, bag slung lazily around your shoulder as you depart for the door, ignoring the quickly approaching footsteps. Joel, unbeknownst to you, had already pocketed your panties, torn to shreds in the pocket of his slacks. But, the words cut deep and he can’t leave things like this and allow you the final word.

Joel yanks the strap of your bag and backs you against the office door, the wood rattling against your conjoined weight as his lips press against yours in haste, messy and uncoordinated but your brain quickly assess what’s happening and joins, your lips parting to allow his eager tongue into your mouth. His kiss is biting and furious, mean and full of nothing but tense emotion. It’s months of suffocated lust pouring into you, out of him, and you swallow it down eagerly. His hand holds your chin forcefully, sloppy exchanges of spit and forceful bites, a battle for dominance that Joel quickly won out on.

And you think that maybe that comment was the final straw, that he might just give you what you want, but your delicate moan that slips into his mouth as chase him, his head pulling back slightly at the noise—it had him falling back to reality, right on his ass.

There wasn’t any line left to cross anymore. He’d obliterated it.

“Don’t threaten me again,” He warns, “ever.”

There’s one solid shove against the door as your head hits the surface gently, his touch quickly dissipating and his disheveled appearance a tell-tale sign in your mind. He was fighting his own battle and losing terribly.

“Of course,” You agree sardonically, “Mr. Miller.”

The silent click of the door is deafening and Joel retreats to his desk, punching a fist into the solid wood, the papers of your assignment flying to the floor. He can't be bothered to pick them up or even allow them the proper glance they deserve.

Because you—in his mind, don't deserve it.

And he's not going to give you that satisfaction.

It's unprofessional, but he'll allow it this once. It only takes a few quick clicks and he's adjusting the assignment out for your new one.

Poof. Gone. Like it never existed.

But, the grade is unchanging and he knows that will make things tremendously worse, but he can't be bothered to care anymore.

You'd be back and that's exactly what he wants.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller smut #professor!joel miller #tlou fanfic #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #my writing #pedro pascal characters

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rogueddie · 2 years

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One small glimpse had all it took for Eddie to be completely hooked. Just one little glimpse, just enough to get him curious, just enough to get him in the store.

And then he'd truly seen Steve Harrington, dressed in a cute little sailors uniform. The shorts weren't anywhere near as sinful as the ones he wore in gym but... something about them being part of his uniform, something about the fact that someone is paying him to wear them, makes it seem so much more... dirty? Eddie isn't sure, something about it immediately riles him up.

They're so flattering too, somehow make his legs look better than the gym shorts did. When he turns around, bending over to grab something out of the lower cabinet...? Eddie is just glad it was loud, no one could hear the quiet noise he made.

Of course he'd teased him. How could he not? Former King of Hawkins high, reduced to serving ice cream in a slutty sailor suit.

"It's not slutty," Harrington had hissed, flushing bright red. "It's just a uniform."

"Mm, and you wear it so well."

It was just a short little visit. Got some ice cream, said a few teasing things, left within five minutes.

Eddie couldn't stop thinking about it. He'd always found Harrington attractive, who hadn't? He wasn't necessarily ashamed of that. But, even then, it had never been this bad. A fleeting thought that the guy looked good, sure. Waking up in the middle of the night, fantasizing about him in his work uniform?

A week later, he's sure that he's remembering wrong. He's probably just having a bad week, weirdly hormonal and didn't realize that he was into sailor uniforms... or something. Because there's no way Steve Harrington looked so pretty in that uniform that it warranted this much thought.

So, later in the day, he goes back to the mall. Picks up a new album first, heading inside Scoops Ahoy- he'd pass it by on the way back, it gives him the perfect excuse.

Harrington is serving, but he's turned around, talking to his co-worker. It gives Eddie an unfortunately good look at how the shorts pull a little too tight in all the right areas. It doesn't help when he shifts his stance as he talks, leaning forward a little more so his back almost arches, hips tilting to the side and-

Eddie ducks his head to stare at the album in his hand like it's the most fascinating thing in the world, shuffling so the girl in front of him still waiting at the counter blocks his view.

After he finally carries on doing his job, serves the girl so Eddie can sidle up to the counter with a smirk, he rolls his eyes. "Anymore inappropriate comments?"

"Yeah. You sure those shorts are the right size?"

Harrington frowns, looking down at said shorts. "Yeah?"

"Mhm. Sure, I believe you." Eddie glances at his co-worker.

She's a decently pretty girl, he assumes- but she's giving him a knowing look, pretends to tip her hat at him with a wink. Huh.

"Same as last time," Eddie drawls when Harrington finally stops frowning at his uniform.

He stares at him for a moment, squinting a little. He snaps his fingers when he finally remembers, grinning. It's almost criminal- to look that good on a normal day, but then also wear that sailor uniform and also be cute?

Someone up above must hate him.

"Here you go, that's $1.55."

Eddie reluctantly accepts the ice cream, hands him the money in far too many coins. It's the right order. "Is that the right amount?"

Harrington grumbles, annoyed, as he slowly starts counting each cent. Shakes his head when he's done. "5 cents short, sorry dude."

"Damn." Eddie pushes the ice cream back at him so he can dig through both pockets.

"Just- stop, here," Harrington holds the ice cream out. Eddie had very nearly wiggled out what felt like a quarter stuck in his pocket too. "You can pay me back later."

"You sure?" Eddie cautiously takes the offered ice cream. Hesitates for a moment- he's being nice, actually nice. Eddie isn't sure teasing is the best way to repay that but... he's not told Eddie to back off yet. "You just want cash or what?"

"What other type of payment is there?"

"Goods and services," Eddie wiggles his eyebrows.

Harrington splutters for a moment, flushing red again. So Eddie takes the opportunity to leave, not waiting for a response.

Whilst it's only 5 cent, Eddie has learnt the hard way that every penny counts. But he's been given the perfect excuse to come back. He's practically been invited back.

Eddie tries not to feel too giddy. Tries not to let it get to his head.

He holds out exactly three days. Three days of absolute hell! He can barely concentrate half the time, mind constantly wondering back to Harrington in that stupid uniform. The way he'd blushed, again, so easily. Seemed to almost welcome the teasing, too. At least, he didn't seem put off by it. It's almost too good to be true.

He'd been busy all day though. Band practice had run later than they'd planned and everyone else had things they needed to get to afterwards as well. It didn't go well for anyone.

Eddie is lucky he arrives at the mall in time, the stores only just starting to pack up for the evening. Most stores are completely empty- including Scoops Ahoy.

But it's completely empty. Not even Steve or a different employee stand at the counter, or shuffle around the tables cleaning up. For a moment, Eddie is sure that they must have closed up early and he really has arrived too late.

But then the 'staff only' door swings open, Harrington shuffling out. He freezes moments after he steps out, just as surprised to see Eddie.

"Hey," he eventually says. He even gives Eddie a little wave. "Sorry, uh, didn't expect anyone else in. Most of the ice cream is, uh, packed up. I don't... we might still have yours?"

"It's ok if you don't," Eddie offers, sauntering over to the counter. "I'll take a recommendation."

Harrington nods, shuffling over to start rooting through... things. Eddie isn't sure. He keeps up his bad habit of just bending over instead of crouching though. Eddie isn't sure whether he's happy about that or not. It is a nice view.

"We have, uh, the U.S.S Butterscotch ice cream? It's the closest we have available."

"That's fine. As long as it's not vanilla. How much is it?"

"Oh, right, sorry. It's $1.99."

Eddie roots through his pockets, dumping his change on the counter first. He's pretty sure he doesn't have enough- and he's right, he's just about 34 cent short.

"Shit. You got anything cheaper?"

But Harrington shakes his head again, already pulling out the scooper. "Just pay me back. It's fine."

Eddie raises his eyebrows. One time, 5 cents, isn't anything to take note of. A second time, now adding up to 39 cents?

"What if I can't afford to?"

Again, he shrugs off the question. "You're the one who suggested goods and services."

"You know what I was implying with that, right?"

He shrugs again, but he keeps his head down, focusing on fiddling with the ice cream scooper. He's blushing.

Eddie leans forward, onto his elbows, tilting his head. He pats the counter. "Come here then."

"What?" Steve tries to ask. But Eddie just pats the counter again. So Steve steps a little closer, leans on his palms though, keeping straight and upright. "What?"

Eddie looks over him for a moment, considering... it'd be worth the punch, he decides.

He grabs the little red tie of Steve's uniform, pulling him down. He leans up to meet him halfway, unable to hold in his pleased hum when Steve tilts his head to the side as he allows Eddie to pull him down.

His mouth opens just as easily when Eddie immediately deepens the kiss. The noise he makes when Eddie nips at his lower lip too- so high, needy. Irresistible. He just has to bury his hands in his hair, holding his head still so Eddie can take what he wants. Rewards Steve with a little tug on his hair.

He's panting when Eddie finally lets him go, blushing all the way down his neck, eyes a little glassy.

"That enough, sailor?"

Steve blinks at him for a moment, looking a little out of it.

"Steve."

"Oh, uh, yeah... right, yeah, that- yeah. I'll just, um. I'll get your order."

This time, Eddie let's his eyes linger. Doesn't bother hiding it when Steve looks back round, feeling almost gleeful at how Steve almost seems to preen.

... can you tell that I've been thinking about this post too much?

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie fic #ficlet #scoops ahoy #altorprecanon

3K notes · View notes

world-of-aus · 11 months

Text

Live Now

Pairing: Camboy!Bucky x Camgirl!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI (Use of Toys, Masturbation)

Authors Note: Smut has been on the mind, and well what better way to test the waters? Happy Reading BUNS! (Any and all writing mistakes are my own)

He jerks his cock lazily with one calloused hand, the other guiding the cursor down the list of potential cam girl links waiting to be clicked and watched. Many of his favorites have bumped their way to the top, his search defined already to what he likes, the profiles he views often after a night of work. Tonight, he scrolls past them, despite his aching cock beginning for something other than the lazy stroke he provides.

Your name had been dropped in his comments for weeks now, many of his loyal viewers asking, no begging him to give you a view. They had promised the long-haired brunette he wouldn’t regret it, apparently you put on quite the show if the frequent drop of your site name was any indication. So he scrolls, continues his lazy stroke as he seeks you out. He finds your link two pages in, the live now icon flashing before his eyes, your profile gives little away, nothing like the other cam girls he’s favorited. He leans back into his chair, body sliding down as he spreads his legs, he gives you your chance.

He presses your link, his screen going black before the loading screen comes on. He removes his hand from the mouse to guide his grey joggers lower around his muscled thighs. He wouldn’t remove them yet; not till he was sure your show would deliver.

Bucky waits, fist still lightly wrapped around his hardened cock, his stroke a constant motion now, giving himself something to look forward to. When the video finally loads Bucky is floored, a curse leaving the man's lips, his fist tightening around his cock as he takes all of you in.

You were sin on legs.

You were kneeled before the camera, your breasts bouncing from where your rode the black dildo that was buried inside of you. The noises the toy pulled from you were blocked by the silicon cock fisted in your hands that you pressed past your lips. Bucky didn’t think it was possible for him to get harder, but the way you push yourself to swallow more of the silicon down has him aching, he had never wanted to be a toy more.

And like Bucky, your followers are eating it up. The soft pings of comments and coins being dropped for you. He chuckles huskily, his fist moving quicker over his cock as he watches you eat the attention right up, your hands pressing more of the toy into your mouth till your gagging. He watches you pull back from the toy, a thin line of spit connecting you to the silicon, a noise he’d pay to hear repeatedly leaving your lips as you grind down onto the toy below you.

Bucky can see you need more, can hear it in the breathy pleas that spill from those lips he aches to have around his cock. “It feels so good,” he hears you say, and he swears he’s never heard a sound so euphoric than your wrecked voice gracing his ears. “s’fucking my pussy so good.” You moan your fingers drifting down your body to split through your folds showing your viewers just how well the black toy was fucking you, how wet you were.

Bucky’s thinking with his cock when he leans forward to type a comment into the chat box. His fist moving over his erect member in fast succession as he watches you get yourself off. The ping catches your eye, your gaze sifting through all the comments that have accumulated but ultimately landing on his.

“You think you could fill me out better than my toy,” you purr as you lean forward, your breasts pressed and pushed together to offer a view as you ride the toy in tandem now. Yeah, he thinks, he could have you cock drunk before he even sheathed himself inside of you of that he was certain. “You think you could fuck my pussy till I’m creaming all over your cock?”

He chokes on a groan, his lips parting as the pleasure courses through his veins. Fuck you were a dirty girl, a dirty girl he couldn’t wait to get his hands on and defile further. He’s moving forward again, the pleasure continuing to build up in his groin as he tried to type something significantly coherent in your chat box.

Your laugh is breathless, lips parted in an ‘o’, he’s certain this is what you look like when you’re pushing to topple over the edge. “Fuck I would love nothing more than to have your cock in my pussy right now, have you fill me up.” You moan as you push back onto your knees, hands clasped around your breasts as you ride the black silicon toy vigorously. A means to your end.

The chat box has gone quiet, the only sounds filling Bucky’s room is that of his lube slicked fist rubbing over his weeping cock, the pleasure pleas spilling from those sinful lips as you drive yourself closer, and the soft ping of your viewers dropping more coins for you. He imagines they must all look like him right now; speechless, fists wrapped around their cocks as they race to meet their end with you.

Why hadn’t he searched you up sooner?

He has no time to think on that thought, your scream of pleasure meeting his ears, your orgasm seared into his memory. Its enough to push him on, his own orgasm spilling over his fist landing on his stomach.

‘Holy Shit’, he chuckles, a groan following as he rides the aftershocks.

A few breaths later and he finds himself cleaning up alongside you. Your movements lax on the other side of the screen as you shift through some of the comments your viewers are leaving. He had typed plenty already, so he sat this part out content enough to watch through the comments with you. Plenty were calling you their ‘good girl’ and he couldn’t help but think of how far from the truth that statement was. You may put on the good girl visage for your Loyals but Bucky knew a brat waiting to be tamed when he saw one.

He wondered when he might get the chance. If he ever got the chance.

You wrap up your live with a kiss and a thank you promising to return soon with a special surprise.

Bucky was certain that after today he would be returning, and with a final praise from you his screen goes black alongside yours. He closes out of the tab, landing on your original link, the live now notification gone like you. He goes to close that tab, but notification pings from the speakers alerting him to a new message.

His brows furrow as he guides the cursor to the message notification, his heart races, a message from you, Siren, sits in his inbox. He moves to the message clicking it, intrigued, his insides twist.

“I’ll be damned, buckmeup is a fan?”

He falls back into his chair, shit.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #camboy au #camgirl!au

547 notes · View notes

bakugoushotwife · 9 months

Text

Threads of Fate // s. gojo x fem!reader

a/n: the series is hereeeee!! thank you to my lovely discord server who helped me title this and listened to all my ramblings and plans for the series! I hope you guys love chapter one!

spotify playlist for chapter by chapter vibes!

here’s a Spotify playlist for the first chapter :)

cw: cursing, a little meanness, gojo, unedited

wc: 4.6k

series masterlist // chapter two

You were born special, that much was clear. A baby girl born to the Jujutsu Clan of Nashville sorcerers with the genetic gift of the Quelling Eyes, something your twin was not so lucky to receive. Your brother was fraternal to you, younger by just a few minutes. He had an equally terrifying and special ability, but it was apparent that his twin was destined for greater things. The two of you were number one and two in the western circuit, respectively.

It was lonely at the top, even if your twin brother was right behind you. The higher ups expected more out of you than your classmates. They gave you harder missions and even assigned task forces under your guidance. You were expected to do things with ease, blessed with powers and techniques that no one in America had seen before, other than the genetic Quelling Eyes, and not much was known about them. You were the first line of offense and defense in any unexpected situation, even though you were just a fifteen year old girl. They made it a point to keep your brother separate on his own teams, not keen to let you two rely on each other. American sorcerers were war machines, and nothing else. You were a perfect weapon.

Well, nearly perfect, anyway.

It was a day like any other, the humid summer atmosphere filling your lungs with rocks as you tried to train your hand to hand combat. The sky was especially blue and clear that day, the sun exceptionally bright. Your twin tauntingly blocked every kick and strike you threw his way, the two of you in a battle of ego. You were two sides of one sadistic coin, pushing each other to be the most powerful version of yourselves. He couldn’t stomach your designation as number one, and you were determined to not let him surpass you.

“Y/N. Pack your bags. You’re going to Tokyo.” Your drill sergeant said, interrupting your sparring contest just as you were starting to make him stumble. You groan and dramatically turn your nose in the air, not even really noting the words, just that your sergeant spoke. “You leave tomorrow. Be ready, L/N.” He read off a piece of official letterhead.

“Hah?” Your brother furrowed his brows in disgust. “Tokyo? What for?” He asked, unstrapping the velcro of his protective gloves.

You nod, tearing yours off with your teeth, unbothered to do it the easy way. “Yeah! What for?” You ask, perfectly manicured brow raised.

Your instructor seemed annoyed, though that was to be expected with you in his charge. A bubbly but egotistical teen girl with the ability to back up her loud mouth was hardly his ideal student. He glanced back at the paper. “The Commission thinks you’re ready for your own squad, but they want you to help our allies in Tokyo to polish your skills. Says something here about training with their number one sorcerer, Satoru Gojo.”

Your brother kicks the training dummy, discontent to see you sent off elsewhere. “She’s an American sorcerer. She should stay in America.”

You roll your eyes a bit. He was every bit as much of a dramatic egoist as you. You clap your hand on his shoulder. “Rest easy, bro. You know that means you get to be number one while I’m gone.” You tease, poking your tongue out at him.

He deadpans. “Whatever, dipshit. Try not to destroy the city you’re in, this time.” He huffs, cleaning up the equipment you two drug out onto the football field today. Jujutsu School of Nashville was much like any other American highschool, though it had a much more military-esque authority presence. The school was your average brick foundation, lengthy hallways that lead to empty classrooms to study techniques and the major clans of the United States. Being a part of the Southern District gave your education a questionable undertone, as the south hasn’t been notable for their schooling over the years. Perhaps that’s why the Commission sought to send you on missions like these every so often, getting you experience with other teachers and techniques. The last time they sent you away had been talk of the school for years, you took down two special grade curses but happened to destroy the Australian village you were fighting in.

“That happened once!” You huff, slapping your brother on the shoulder. “And the special grades woulda tore it up anyway, so I don’t wanna hear it!”

Your twin just smiles and shakes his head. Your teacher sighs at the bickering, and just tiredly waves the letter at you, repeating, “5pm. Tomorrow, L/N.” Before he walks away. He sighs to himself, hopefully you would survive this round of missions too, but he could never be too sure with the U.S. Commission seemingly testing to see how much you could take before you snapped.

It’s lonely at the top. You’ve known this since you were old enough to understand your power, and you’d estimate that realization at around five or six. You were able to overcome most of these struggles due to your bond with your twin and the repeated message that you were fated for a higher purpose.

Though your brother wouldn’t be coming with you to Tokyo. This would be for you to navigate alone, and you were feeling this loneliness on your sixteen hour flight to Japan. The Academy has been all you’ve known since you started there. Once the severity of your power was realized, the government paid a pretty penny for you and your brother. Family loyalty hardly meant anything compared to the almighty dollar, plus, you were quite the unruly pair.

Still, you had each other, and that had been enough. Until they separated you too, all in an effort to increase your power.

Power. Tch. You were the best there is, plain and simple. All their tactics worked, paired with your natural prowess, you were sure there was nothing left to learn and no one on earth who could beat you. Your brother was extremely strong, able to bend time to his will. It’s nearly unconquerable, yet you can still best him every time. So who was this Satoru Gojo and why do you give a flying fuck? Your higher ups constantly seeking to sharpen your craft would soon realize you were as powerful as they come. Yet still, you didn’t want to walk in blind, nor show all the cards in your hand when you meet your new classmates for the first time. Your brother scored some books about the Gojo clan of Tokyo, highlighting important sections for you to study on your trip.

You decide to pick up the heaviest book, leatherbound and dusty. It was about inherited techniques and idiosyncrasies within the clan, and your eyes land on the highlighted passage.

“Mukagen Rikugan: The Six Eyes. A genetic power rarely inherited within the Gojo clan. They are not a cursed technique that needs to be activated—”

That certainly piques your interest. Your Quelling Eyes are genetic as well, but they are very draining to your cursed energy. This means he has the opposite ability, you can’t help but chuckle through your nose at this. You read on to learn more about your future forced companion.

“But an innate technique that grants the user the ability to master Limitless. Several hundred years must pass in between wielders and there will be no two Six Eyes users alive at the same time.”

Hm, that’s certainly interesting. Your eyes were passed generation to generation, with no limits to how many wielders can be alive at the same time. You figure there must be massive amounts of powers involved, and already the mention of another innate technique that he surely possessed to be hailed as the best in the east.

“A Six Eyes bearer has immense perception and unrivaled visual prowess far beyond that of any other sorcerer. Their eye-sight is comparable to high-definition infrared vision, which allows them to see even when their eyes are covered. They can easily see from several kilometers away–”

You figure that has to be a large distance, and you know you’re in for trouble in Tokyo. You know enough of the language to work your way around, but conversions like these were never your strong suit. The power sounds insanely strong, and you find yourself excited to meet someone with as much natural talent as you.

“---and distinctively tell apart different figures within that range. The Six Eyes can see the flow of cursed energy, empowering their bearer with the ability to read an individual’s cursed technique in use and determine its function. They can even identify between different types of cursed energy.”

You smile to yourself. What an interesting ability. Your Quelling Eyes worked similarly, you too could differentiate between the types of cursed energy, but you specialized in repressing the circulation of it. Though the power took a lot of your own cursed energy to use for long amounts of time, it was insanely useful. Satoru Gojo would know what your cursed technique is upon meeting, but you wondered if he would discover your Quelling Eyes as well.

Next was the books about the Limitless technique. It too, was an inherited family technique, though it seems only a user of the Six Eyes can maximize its potential.

“Infinity is the base state of Limitless and is essentially the power to stop. The technique works the same way convergent and divergent sequences do in mathematics. The infinity is the convergence of an immeasurable series, anything that approaches the infinity will slow down and never reach the user. This is because the technique takes the finite amount of space between the two objects and divides it an infinite amount of times. The invisible barrier created by the Infinity can be expanded to keep harmful substances away from the user or to overpower someone attempting to neutralize their technique.”

You study some more notes on the subject, noting that the teen can’t actively support Infinity at all times just yet, having to decidedly turn it on and off at his choice. Either way, your ocular prowess should be enough to overpower it, and sneak your actual technique in, whether he’s expecting it or not. You hadn’t met the boy yet, but he was your new rival. It was clear he held tremendous ability, but you also wonder if he’s ever been challenged in the way he’s about to be. You hope to be a surprise, noting some records your brother tracked down that told of Satoru’s unbearable attitude and ego-centrism. You grin to yourself, knowing your teachers probably spoke of you in a similar fashion.

You gaze out the window of your airplane, wondering what this meeting would hold for you. Which one of you would be humbled in this affair? You can’t help but smile as you picture a boy out there just as if not more powerful than you. You wondered if he felt the weight of the world pressing in around him, too. You wanted to know if he experienced that same loneliness that you felt, with everybody looking at you like a superhero instead of a little girl. Would he be relieved to find someone who knew what that felt like?

When you step out of the terminal in Tokyo, you aren’t sure what to expect. It’s not as if your school gave you many details to begin with, though they probably didn’t receive many themselves. The Commission was the federal level of sorcerer authority, so they only gave out what they needed to. You look around for anyone reeking of cursed energy, figuring that would be your best bet. But you’re met with an older man holding up a sign with your name on it. You arch a brow, chuckling softly to yourself as you adjust your backpack on your shoulder. It made you feel like you were in some romantic comedy, though the driver definitely couldn’t be the main love interest.

You approach him anyway, dragging your suitcase behind you. He nodded his head to greet you. “Y/N L/N?”

You nod back, giving him a polite smile. “In the flesh.”

He seems unamused. He opens the trunk and loads your luggage in, leaving you grimacing awkwardly and debating if you should just duck into the sleek black car and eat the embarrassment or try to help with your bags.

“Go ahead and take a seat, Miss Y/N.” He says sternly, and you nod with a tight lipped expression. Already making friends in Tokyo, your brother would be so proud.

You sigh and shove yourself in the back, annoyed at yourself for being so nervous in the first place. Sure it was a foreign country, new people that only had a brief idea of who you are and what you can do, and the seemingly daunting task of learning aside Satoru Gojo. But you are a powerhouse. No amount of pressure can break a diamond. You can handle whatever Satoru Gojo and any other students of Jujutsu Tech have to throw at you.

You repeat this mantra to yourself as the car winds down a curved path, no doubt taking you to the secluded castle-like building of Tokyo’s sorcery school. You can see the outlines of three figures waiting on an open field. It almost reminds you of the football field back home, though it’s not as long and most definitely not used for football in its spare time. The driver stops before the field, looking at you through the rearview mirror.

“Go ahead. The teacher will guide you from here.”

“Kudasai, my bags?” You ask, sliding out of the backseat. The driver only waves you off and keeps driving. There was a tall man with sunglasses, the man you assumed would be the sensei of your squad. There were two other boys with him, both tall but opposite in hair color. One had the most striking white color and the other had long dark locks. You peered in at them through the slats of the fence, unsure how to make your grand entrance. You had planned to make yourself a spectacle, impossible to ignore as you burst on the scene.

“Ah! She’s here already! Come, come Miss L/N!” The teacher calls out as you approach, though the other two surely detected the magnitude of your cursed energy. The dark haired one seemed…surprised. The white haired one peered over dark circular lenses at you, expressionless.

You step into the gate with a smile. From what you could tell, they were both pretty attractive. Maybe you could have a little fun while in Tokyo. “You must be Yaga-sensei?”

He chuckles and nods. He waves you closer, brightly smiling as you stand just a few feet away from the group. The black haired man exchanges a look with the white haired counterpart, though now that you’re closer you can decidedly say they’re good looking. The dark-haired man’s hair was long, but he had angled layers that framed his sharp features. His eyes were kind though, and his lips curled into an inviting smile.

“This is Suguru Geto!” The teacher says, holding the boy by both shoulders. If possible, his warm face shifts into an even brighter smile. “Be nice to her, she’s from America! Tennessee!” The man chuckles as he pronounces the silly name.

“It’s nice to meet you, L/N-chan!” He beams, extending his hand for you. You smile easily, your features soft and seductive. You’re easily the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, though he knows Shoko would be devastated to hear it. You take his hand in both of yours, leaning forward a little to give him an adorable nose-crinkled smile.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Geto-senpai.” You hum, which flusters the boy a little. He averts his gaze from your shyly, clearly taken aback a bit by your forwardness. He shakes his head quickly.

“Oh–no, we’re the same age so you can call us san!” He chuckled, releasing your grip. The pink on his cheeks is still evident, but your eyes had already shifted to the boy staring intensely at you. He had the most peculiar eyes that you had ever seen before. They were bluer than the sky, glowing with an ethereal brightness. It’s captivating, the way he analyzes you without any trace of his findings on his face. Yaga-sensei moves to his shoulders. He’s a couple inches taller than the first boy, but not as broad. He’s much lankier, but you can tell by his cursed energy that he is insanely powerful. It all makes sense. You realize who this is as your new teacher says it.

“This is Satoru Gojo!” He says, and you see the hint of nervousness creep up onto his face. He clears his throat before announcing his next bit. “Satoru! You will train with her, she is on your power level!”

This makes the boy show his first emotion of the day, genuine joy. He laughs, a hearty, full- bodied chuckle. His head is tossed back, shoulders jumping, his hand over his heart enjoying the hilarity. Suguru looks at you apologetically, but you smirk, and hold your hand up as if to say, “I got this, buddy.”

This was the outcome you had figured most likely in your head. You’re extremely prideful and some would even say intolerably full of yourself based on your upbringing as a highly valuable military style weapon. After reading up on the Gojo clan and the powers their little Prince inherited, you figured he would be just as bad, if not ten times worse. Yaga seemed terribly embarrassed, but you gave him another award-winning grin.

“It’s nice to meet you, Satoru-san.” You grin, folding your arms over your chest as you weigh your options. You couldn’t tell if he knew of your eyes, or if his infinity was currently active. You extend your hand, hopefully answering one or both of those questions. His face was playful, those sparkling eyes, flickering from your hand and back to your face. He seemed amused if nothing else now, his rejection of your hand only answering the question about your eyes and his infinity. “Oh, don’t insult me. I know you can read my technique anyway, but I could always show you much more effectively.”

At this, Satoru’s grin spread. You seemed to understand his special eyes, and he wondered what else you knew. Your cursed energy was weird. It seemed like it was vibrating, and it didn’t course through your entire body. He thought that odd, but he knew he could figure that out with a brief spar. In his mind, he was also unbeatable. He stepped forward a bit.

“You’re on, Miss Americana.” He chuckled, thinking himself at the advantage since he can see how your cursed technique works.

Suguru stepped forward a bit nervously. “Now, Satoru, that’s rude, she just got here–”

“I’m okay Geto-san.” You hum brightly. “I think I can impress, if nothing else.” You say, tying your hair up out of your way and subtly activating your cursed technique. You don’t take your eyes of Satoru, knowing he noticed your activation.

“What’s your technique, anyway?!” Suguru asked, slightly panicked at the impression Gojo would leave on you on your first day here.

You arch your brow at your opponent. “Do you wanna tell him, or can I?”

Satoru is officially intrigued by you. You’re unafraid, he enjoys that, even if some poor American bastards lied and said you were as strong as he is. “The floor is yours.”

You hum, a sly grin on your lips. “‘Preciate it. You see, Geto-san, I have cursed threads, kinda like puppet master jutsu from Naruto.” You giggle, letting the invisible strings wiggle out toward your opponent. You knew Satoru wouldn’t allow them to meet his skin, so you hum some more. “I can control the speed, the number of them that appear. Ideally, I’d wrap these around your limbs. They’re sharp, so they cut as you wiggle against them, and it gives me some manipulation of your limbs. Of course, Gojo-san’s Infinity technique won’t allow that.”

Suguru seems intrigued. “That sounds powerful!” He says, eyeballing his friend's reaction to you understanding his technique as well.

Satoru is of course overjoyed by your knowledge. “Seems like someone did their research! Where were you from again? Hollywood? Brooklyn? Dallas! Yeah that’s the one.”

“No it’s not.” You chuckle, a little thrown by his derailing. “I’m from Tennessee–”

“Dallas it is. Listen Dallas-chan, I see you know your enemy. If that’s true, why’d you even step up to embarrass yourself?”

You roll your eyes at his nickname, deciding to fight that battle later. “Because I’m gambling.” You smirk, knowing this caught him off guard. He was striking to look at, really, and if he wasn’t such a dickhead you thought you may let him off the hook just for being pretty. You sigh, ready to show all your cards now anyway.

Satoru raises a brow now, curious to what you could mean. He knew about your second form activation as well, a much scarier and painful version of your cursed threads, if that’s what you intended to show. You wink at Suguru, blinking slowly. When your eyes open again, they glow with a purple flame-like visual enhancement instead of your normal color. The boys look at each other in surprise. Satoru knew there was something off about the energy at the top of your head, but he didn’t surmise another ocular power. Soon, he feels his infinity melt away, your threads speedily wrapping around his arms and legs.

He even chuckles when you thrust him to his knees, much to Suguru’s shock. “What did you do to him??” He asks, puzzled beyond belief, he knew your eyes must be behind it, but he didn’t understand how.

“She repressed my technique with those eyes of hers. It’s cute, but now that I know about it, you’ll never win again.” He sighs, unbothered by your show of power. Though part of him chills, knowing your second form was so painful and crippling that your domain had to be the cruelest one he’d seen. Another part of him is highly interested in this. He hasn’t seen anyone come close to your strength, the amount of cursed energy you had did rival his own, though it was clear your techniques consumed more of it. Your attitude interested him even more, unwavering against him. You would be fun to play with. “Good job, Dallas-chan.” He teases.

You roll your eyes and release your technique, setting him free. His cursed energy was odd. It seemed to flicker like a fire and call out to you, despite being repressed by your power earlier. “It’s Y/N. Nashville is nowhere near Dallas.”

He shrugs. “I dunno, I think Dallas suits you better than Nashville though. Your real name sucks.” He grins when he says it, but Suguru covers his face with his hands. He was going to be cleaning up Satoru’s mess forever. He almost comes up with something to say, but you remain undeterred by the boy’s relentlessness.

“Whatever you say, Gojo-san. I think I’ll show myself around your training facilities now. I’ll only answer to Y/N.”

You wave to your new teacher, who sat and observed your confrontation with his most troublesome student. He decided then that you would be the best thing or the worst thing to happen to Satoru, and he had desperate hopes for the former. Then you wave off to Suguru, turning to walk past Gojo on the narrow track. He stepped in your way as if to shoulder check you, but instead of you stumbling back and him giggling at you, both of you looked at each other in shock.

The place where your bodies touched sparked, and you didn’t know what to make of it. You eye his cursed energy, and the flames pull towards you again, like a magnetic field. Satoru is just as concerned, realizing that your energy’s hum was getting heavier and heavier, like a metal detector discovering gold. There was an unfamiliar connection formed, but neither of you knew what to think about it. You tear your eyes away, heart thundering in your ears. Your body had grown warm, like his energy was an actual fire that your energy accepted as a source of its own. He hums, tucking this in his mind to explore later. That is until you start walking away from him and he feels like he’s left naked in the snow. His body goes cold, and his feet scream at him to follow you, as if it’s the only way he can get warm again. The sparks start to intensify as he grows closer to you. He stops himself from following any further, growing confused as his body slowly becomes cold again as you disappear from view.

What the hell was that? He felt drawn in and he didn’t like it at all, it must be some innate technique of yours. Whatever it is, he has to figure out how to shake it off of him.

For the rest of the night, all you can think about is each other. You lay in your new room, staring up at the blank ceiling, wondering what could have caused your energies to have a physical reaction to each other. You knew you were both incredibly strong, maybe it was due to that. Perhaps you two were too strong to interact! Yeah, that makes sense. But you were sent here, deliberately partnered with him. How could you complete your missions if you avoid him all the time? You wouldn’t be able to, and then you wouldn’t be able to go home. So whatever happened out there tonight, you had to put it behind you and focus on the missions to come. Even if he was remarkably handsome and stupidly cunning, what did that have to do with you? His ego is a huge turn off anyway. He couldn’t handle you and you couldn’t handle him. That’s why your energies sparked. You’re sure of it. You would prove yourself to him time and time again. And you had to start with training practices tomorrow morning.

Satoru mirrors your position in his own bed. He figures this must be your doing, maybe there was more to you that his Six Eyes couldn’t register, just like your ocular abilities. Although, the image of your smirking face and the unabashed way you flirted with Geto came to mind. Maybe he was interested in your power, maybe he was just interested in you. Either way, it was incredibly frustrating. All he can focus on is the way his shoulder burned from connecting with yours, and the intensity of your eyes locked on his. This isn’t like him. He’s met a plethora of gorgeous women, and sure your foreign American charm must play into it, but geez, he felt pathetic. You seemed so sure of yourself and your energy made it clear how strong you really were. He hated having you on the brain. He would see you again for training, and there he could put an end to his stupid wonderings by smacking you down for good. He’ll expose your power for the cheap ploy it is and send you back to America with your attitude adjusted. Then he won’t have to deal with your strange effect on him or your annoying ego. And he’ll start with practice in the morning.

tags: @aepinkoutsold @purpleguk @ddora-kken @naorizenin @makiville @getosbigballsack

#jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo saturo #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #satosugu x reader #jjk #jjk gojo #gojo series

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sunshineting · 1 year

Text

⭐︎two sides of the same fucked up coin⭐︎ pt2

toxic!eren x toxic!reader, toxic!reader x Erwin smith

word count- 1418

summary- your boyfriend cheats on you so you decide to cheat back... with his boss ♡

lmk if anyone wants a part 2 with erens reaction hehe ive got some things in mind

minors DNI PLS 🤬

Your relationship with Eren Jaeger was… haphazard, at best. Arguments were a near daily occurrence; yelling, cussing, throwing shit at each other, name calling were all on the table in these bouts. The bad days were really bad. But the good days? Oh, they were amazing. Lavish dates, expensive gifts, treating each other like royalty. You two were so lovey dovey on good days. Everyone had whiplash from the back and forth and just wished you’d leave each other alone.

This time though, Eren took it too fucking far. The two of you had a fight the week prior; you’ve forgotten what it was even about at this point. But, at some point you told him, “If you want a bitch that’s gon bend over backwards for you at your every beck and call, go fuck that thirsty bitch Mikasa!”

And that rat bastard actually did. Oh, you were going to fucking kill him. And her, too, because the bitch knew y’all were together. He’d come back to your apartment in the middle of the night, begging for forgiveness. The guilt ate him up inside and he confessed before you found out because he knew you would. As he told you, your eye had twitched and your fists were balled, but you remained relatively calm. You didn’t stab him like you wanted to, so that was a good sign. All you said was to get out. After he’d left, you screamed, cried, and punched your pillows. You’d even blocked him on everything you could. You didn’t eat for a good two days after that because you were so sick to your stomach about it. But then, you’d gotten an idea. Why should you be agonizing over something he did? He deserves to feel the sickness that you feel. He hurt you. He deserves to hurt, too.

So, here you are. Being wined and dined by Eren’s boss, Erwin Smith. Erwin is a tall, broad man; towering over your short height. He wears a nice button down shirt and well fitting slacks with expensive looking dress shoes. His blond hair is thick and neatly styled; a business man through and through.

“...so, yes business is booming. Would you like more wine?” Erwin had been saying something about his company, but you’d tuned him out. You give him a charming smile and accept the drink. The rest of the night goes by according to plan, having good conversation and even better food and drink. If circumstances were different, you could see yourself actually dating this man. He’s attentive, chivalrous, and handsome as hell. Yeah, he’s about a decade older than you, but fuck it. When he drives you home, you invite him inside.

“I know my apartment is super tiny compared to your house, but I’d really like it if you keep me company for a while. I can make us some tea, if you’d like?” You say, batting your eyelashes up at him. He graciously accepts and steps inside. You make light conversation as you prepare the kettle. After the hot bev, you ask innocently, “Can I kiss you?”

Erwin takes this and runs with it. He rushes into you, bending down to crash his lips into yours. He’s ravenous, kissing you hungrily and running his hands all over your body. His hands are huge and gripping you in all the right places. Your hips, your ass, your tits. You push your tongue into his hungry mouth, attempting to take a little more control, but Erwin isn’t having it. He bites your bottom lip with a light growl.

“You’ve been seducing me all night, young lady. And here I was, thinking you were a good little girl.” His voice is low and heavy with lust. You swallow thickly. Running your hand down his chest, you find yourself at his belt. You bite your lip and gaze up at him into his oceanic eyes.

“Come to my room?” You ask, voice small. Leading him to your room, you can’t help but smile to yourself. If you’d known getting revenge would be this fun, you’d have done it sooner. You’re enjoying yourself with Erwin, but a pang of guilt does strike your heart. The only thing you didn’t like was bringing an innocent man into your issues with Eren. You push those thoughts away and straddle Erwin on your bed. You can feel his thick cock through his pants and you’re eager to get to it. He grinds himself up into you while gripping your hips tightly. A surprised moan escapes from your throat. Your bodycon dress is pulled up to your waist, exposing you from there down. You had worn the tiniest panties you owned, just for this. Erwin groans seeing you like this, exposed and dripping wet.

“You’re sure you want this?” The man questions.

“Yes, please.”

That was all he needed to pull your dress up further. He removes it entirely and marvels at the sight of you. Ruffled hair, pleading eyes, puffy lips. Not even mentioning your soft, curvaceous body. You lift yourself up from him for a moment to allow him to remove his own clothes. His cock is about average length, but it’s deliciously thick. You could tell he’d give you a good stretch.

“Do you have a condom?” You murmur in Erwin’s ear. Erwin pulls one from his discarded pants and slides it on. Sitting back down on his lap, you rub yourself along his length. It feels so good feeling him rub against your swollen clit. He aligns himself at your entrance and with one swift motion fills you. A mewl escapes you as you feel the sudden stretch.

“You feel so good wrapped around me,” Erwin groans. Your gushy walls surround him, sucking him in. Erwin is so broad, you’re bracing your hands on his chest to balance yourself. His blond hair is now disheveled and he has an animalistic look in his eyes. The put together business man of before has been abandoned. Something about it makes your pussy even wetter. You bounce on his cock repeatedly, each motion getting you closer to your bliss. Your legs start to tire, so Erwin grabs the back of your neck and pulls you to lay on his chest. He then grabs you by the hips and fucks up into you. His pace is short and quick; he’s eager to chase his orgasm. His cock hits your most sensitive spot over and over making you cream all over him.

“Don’t stop, I’m so close,” you whine. Erwin’s rhythm doesn’t falter, instead he gets rougher with each stroke. His arms have you caged in, pressed against him. The strength of him squeezing you sends you over the edge. You fall apart on him; pussy fluttering and gushing around his cock. After he feels your orgasm wash away, Erwin flips you over. Your knees are damn near touching your ears the way he’s got you bent up. He’s so deep he’s hitting your cervix. His balls are slapping your ass with every thrust. The room is filled with the lewd symphony of your pussy squelching, heavy breathing, and skin slapping skin.

“I’m about to cum,” Erwin grunts. His pace falters, his hips tremble, and you feel his cock twitch inside you. He lets out a groan with a shudder. He slides out of you slowly then removes the now full condom. You watch him tie the condom off and toss it into the trash.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and we can go to sleep, yeah?” Erwin suggests. He’s such a good guy. Yet another pang of guilt hits you. If things were different, Erwin could definitely be a good partner. Unfortunately, your heart belonged to Eren.

After getting cleaned up, the two of you get comfortable in your bed. Erwin falls asleep first, a light snore coming from him. You take this time to grab your phone and take a few pictures of Erwin’s sleeping form. You make sure to get a good picture so it’s evident who he is and that you’re with him.

In the morning, you bid Erwin farewell with a kiss on the cheek. You scroll through your contacts to find Eren ❤️‍🔥 Jaeger. Unblock. After unblocking Erens contact, a sea of messages flood your phone. You barely skim them; most of them apologies, some blame you for driving him to cheat. Eyeroll. He’s about to be sorry, all right.

To Eren ❤️‍🔥: Attachment: 2 images

‘We forgive you ❤️’

#attack on titan smut #aot smut #eren x reader #toxic!eren #toxic!reader #eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger #erwin smith #erwin smut #commander erwin #attack on titan erwin #erwin smith smut #kait's writes

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aclowntiny · 1 year

Text

Business Booster- Wooyoung x Shy!Female!Barista Reader

Word Count: 2,379 | Coffee Shop, Fluff | Warnings: none~

This is my second café-centered story! It makes a slight reference to the one I did for Yeosang, but they aren't really connected/in order, I just thought it would be fun hehe just like making a small reference to one of my favorite webtoons!

“Hey, Jongho,” Wooyoung addressed his roommate, attempting to convince the maknae of his eight-man group to get out of the house with him, “have you tried Shot in the Dark yet?”

“That’s the new place, right? Not yet. Why?”

Shot in the Dark was a new café only a block off KQ. A convenient enough place to supply someone as enthusiastic about caffeine as Wooyoung, sure, but he could take or leave the coffee over the, shall he say, ambience.

The longer-haired man sat up on his bed, a hint of a smirk rising to his lips out of his casual smile. “Well, they’ve got a business booster,” he replied, using a piece of lingo he’d coined a year or so back.

Jongho knew the game. In his mind, he wasn’t quite as superficial as his next-to-youngest friend- at least not in the sense of wanting to drop everything because supposedly a cute girl worked at the shop.

Wooyoung, however, was not deterred by this, leaning forward & crossing his legs with a faint creak of bed springs. “And the best part? She’s shy.”

The young performer was feeling some espresso when he pushed open the heavy-looking dark metal accented door.

The bell rang right as he looked up, his eyes landing on you. One of the cutest girls he’d ever seen just casually standing there behind a coffee counter when Wooyoung thought her face should be all over the place.

But then again, if your face was all over, he’d likely not have a shot with you. Gift horses and all.

“H- hello,” you stuttered, glancing down even as you waved with a wide but sheepish smile.

Cute. “Well hello there! I’m surprised you guys aren’t busier,” Wooyoung commented with a wink.

“What do you mean?” Oh my gosh, you didn’t even get it! Could you be more adorable? More fun?

Either way, he’d put on some charm without flustering you too much more- didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, after all. He almost frowned at the mere thought.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve just been wanting to try this place ever since it opened up, and I’m glad I’m here!”

“Oh, well good!” You brightened, parted lips of confusion turning back into that shy smile. “Was there something in particular you wanted to try?"

"An Americano, please. I heard you guys do really well with strong drinks. Hence the name, right?"

"Right," you agreed quietly, gaze drifting down to the cup you held in your hand, pen at the ready, "and what was your name?"

"Wooyoung." He leaned a bit closer to you on the counter, smiling to himself at the way you looked a bit flustered. "You'll remember that, right?"

"Oh, er, yes. Of course!"

He smiled brightly, glancing quickly at your name tag. "I'll remember yours, too, (y/n)!"

He paid, sat down at one of the industrial-style tables to scroll through bubble for a bit, and before he knew it you were standing before him, glancing at the floor and politely announcing that his coffee was ready.

"This isn't what I ordered."

Your face fell as you bowed in apology. "It's not? I'm so sorry, let me get you another right awa-"

"I'm kidding. It looks perfect."

"I hope you love it."

"I know I will."

Wooyoung learned then and there your giggle was as adorable as your other mannerisms.

And with that, you parted ways, your latest customer vowing to become a regular and wondering how many people had done the same when a beauty like you greeted them. He shook his head, taking a sip of the- wow, truly perfect- espresso drink you'd given him. Either way, management knew what they were doing putting you out there.

"She's shy?" Jongho asked, amusement crossing his face. "And you took that personally, huh?"

"It's so cute watching her get flustered. But she's really so kind and polite, too, and-"

Ateez's maknae arched a brow. "You do everything you do on stage and yet you want me for moral support?"

"No," Wooyoung shrugged, "just an excuse."

"If you don't want the guys to be suspicious, they won't be. We know you'll never give up on coffee. I'll go with you, though. This'll be funny to watch. Or if not I can save her."

"Hey!"

"We meet again," Wooyoung commented the moment he and Jongho enter Shot in the Dark, eyes falling upon you. He glanced at his dongsaeng, not-so-subtly asking Jongho if he was right about you or if he was right. Jongho just chuckled, Wooyoung and him never having the same type, which was part of why the next-youngest member wanted him to be the one to accompany him. If he brought, say, San, he might have trouble, and quite simply put he wanted you all to himself.

"Hi," you replied shyly, nodding the guys' way as you carried a pair of steaming mugs over to the young couple seated in the corner.

"You remembered my name, right?" Running a hand through his wavy black hair, Wooyoung leaned on the counter again.

He caught the way you froze, eyes briefly, worriedly glazing over. Your eyebrows furrowed a bit, lips parting before you spoke. Finally, very quietly, you inquired "Yu- Yuyeon?"

"You don't remember? How could you, (y/n)? I came back here just to see you!" Placing a hand over his heart, Wooyoung gave you a hard time, though it did actually make his chest drop a little. Maybe he didn't have as much of a shot as he thought. Maybe you liked quiet guys. If Yeosang hadn't found his barista already, maybe you'd have preferred him.

"I'm sorry!" You hid your face in your hands, head dropping a bit in apology. "I think I just got it mixed up with a character from the webtoon I've been enjoying!"

"Oh, do I look like a webtoon character?"

You started to peek out from your hands. "Well, not him, but you two do look like you could be in one," you answered with a smile.

"And, hey, don't feel bad, (y/n)," Wooyoung comforted you, teasing tone fading into a softer one, "you were close. It sort of rhymes. That just means I need to come in more, huh?"

"Yes, of course!" You brightened. "Um...oh! Wooyoung!"

"You got it!"

"Yay!" You clapped your hands, smiling fully now, completely uncovered. The way your hair moved with your little bounce, the way your lips parted widely, all of it made Wooyoung want to grab you, dip you down, and kiss you. But hey, he could start with ordering a coffee.

"Can I try a café latte today?"

"Of course. Can- can I ask you a question?"

"Absolutely," Wooyoung encouraged.

"Do any of the pastries we have look good to you?" You asked, motioning to the simple glass case containing coffee shop classics like croissants, buns, and danishes, but a few unique-looking desserts neither Wooyoung nor Jongho recognized by sight.

"Sure they do! Those things with the pink and yellow frosting are really pretty!" He had flashbacks to Yeosang's café adventures. "Do you make them?"

"No," you shook your head, a proud smile falling across your face, "my coworker Jiwoo makes a lot of the traditional pastries, and some of the other international treats like the pan dulce you mentioned are made by Veronica, our baker who is originally from Mexico."

"I like the yellow ones," Jongho said.

"I like the pink," Wooyoung said.

Jongho ordered, deciding to see what the new trend of protein coffee was, and you took his order, repeating his name as if not to make the same mistake that you had with Wooyoung. They paid, and as you took their cups back you glanced away from them, pulling out a bag and grabbing a pink concha and two napkins to slide into it. You handed it out to the guys, and of course Wooyoung accepted it.

"Here," you told him, unable to meet his eyes, "for- for forgetting your name. It's on the house. Please enjoy it."

They both thanked you, making their way to a center table. Wooyoung swatted Jongho out of the seat that faced you, taking it so he could watch you work, chin resting in his hand as he unabashedly stared. You looked over at one point and he winked, sending you practically flying across the kitchen to the other side out of his view. He chuckled deeply.

"We're never going to see you at the dorms anymore, are we?" Jongho asked, shaking his head with an exasperated smile.

"Definitely not now," Wooyoung joked back, opening the white paper bag you'd given them to reveal the concha, which he pointed down at, grinning and loudly whispering "pink" with a proud smirk.

"I'm back!" spreading his arms wide, Wooyoung walked into Shot in the Dark with a grin, not caring at the weird look your coworker- Veronica, it looked like, judging by the tray of conchas she was holding- gave him.

"Wooyoung!" You blurted out the moment you saw him, causing him to giggle. "Oh, I'm sorry, I just remembered this time and-"

"It's alright. I like hearing you say my name," the performer told you, voice lowering a bit and cheshire cat grin widening at the way you very suddenly had to turn around to borrow something from your coworker, who gave you a head pat through her gloves.

"The pastry thingie was really good, by the way," he told Veronica, who smiled and asked if he was back for more.

"I mean, I wouldn't say no, but I'm not exactly here for the food, you know?" A wink.

Giggling, you just asked if he wanted more espresso as Veronica started prepping her icing, shaking her head as she was clearly far more onto it than you were. That or you just wanted him to make all the moves himself. Well, fine by Wooyoung.

"You know me so well, (y/n)."

This particular Shot in the Dark visit, he'd elected to run to the restroom in the back quickly while you made his drink. He missed being able to shamelessly stare at you while you brewed his coffee, but, well, nature calls. He finished up, sparing a bit of extra time to pat down his hair and pop another button of his shirt in the mirror, then strode back out.

As soon as he rounded the corner, he collided into something, or rather someone. Eyes widening, he saw you stumble, mug sloshing onto your shirt. Your light grey shirt. Which now bore a large, unfortunate brown stain. But who cared about a random grey shirt?

"Oh my gosh, are you ok? Was that really hot?" Wooyoung saw a towel hanging from your apron, carefully extricating it without messing up your outfit or seeming untoward, and handed it to you, extending a hand to the one that wasn't dabbing yourself off.

"Warm, but luckily we don't make our drinks scalding."

"I am so sorry! I wasn't watching where I was going and now I've ruined your shirt!"

"It's alright, this is just a plain one I bought at a cheap store for work. N-nothing sentimental, you know?"

"But still I feel bad," he said, looking into your eyes, which darted into his and back down to your messy clothing, his gaze never wavering, "all this mess just because I was too excited to see you again."

"Y-you're sweet," you commented as he pulled you up, gaze averted from your joined hands.

"Well, if you think so, I'd better keep it up then, huh?" Wooyoung replied, untucking his shirt and beginning to unbutton it all the way.

You immediately started, eyes widening as you swiveled around, turning your back to him and missing the fond smile that fell across his face. He took his shirt all the way off, buttoning the leather jacket he was wearing all the way up to the chest.

"Here, look, you can turn around again."

He knew you didn't think he saw, but your glance as you turned around was not directed at his eyes, despite the swivel. He grinned, extending the hand that now held his button-up out to you.

"I can't take your shirt," you all but whispered, flushing as he draped it around your shoulders.

"Sure you can. You can't walk around with a big wet stain showing all day, not that you don't still look beautiful."

Your eyes widened again, but you smiled as you slipped off your apron, tucking in and buttoning his shirt over your ruined one. "Thank you," you said simply, softly, sincerely, "I'll get this back to you, when...well, when..."

"When we have dinner tomorrow night?" Wooyoung asked hopefully, shooting you a playful side eye.

Those lovely lips of yours fell into an 'o'. "R-really?"

Wooyoung's eyes slid across your face, flicked down to his shirt on your body, one of the best things his eyes had ever seen, frankly. "You really still think people come here for the coffee, don't you?" He teased.

"It's a café," you shot back with a sheepish smile, daring to meet his eyes fully.

What can he say? He loved it. "A café with the most jaw-droppingly gorgeous barista who makes you forget all about how expensive their coffee is, because wow, she could sell me a cup of hot water for twice that price-"

"Stop!" You playfully swatted him, the sleeve of his shirt falling just a tad bit long on you, its soft fabric lightly caressing his jacket as your soft blow fell.

Wooyoung, of course, pretended to fall like you'd decked him. "I never lie, (y/n)."

"Well," you weren't sure what to say, "I will see you tomorrow."

"Great," he lit up, starting to make his way back out into Shot in the Dark before pausing, "well, actually, I did lie about one thing."

You frowned. "What?"

"I'd actually love it if you kept the shirt," he replied with a devilish wink before spinning on his heels, heading back out into the café with one final glance back to your blushing form fiddling with the hem of your newly-gifted button-up.

Jongho was right- who needed to spend all that time cooped up in the Ateez dorms?

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #wooyoung #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung x female reader #female reader #coffee shop au

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barelymaddy · 11 months

Text

General love reading

Pile 1 Pile 2 Pile 3

Pile 1

Cards:4 of swords,3 of wands,6 of wands,Judgement(Tarot of the Divine);Release your ex(Romance Angels);Pansy(Botanical Inspirations oracle)

Hello Pile 1!First of all,i feel a very exciting energy coming from this pile,so maybe you feel ready to get back into the dating game!I see that your love life might have been stagnant for a while,maybe even heartbreaking for some,but no worries!Your efforts were noticed by The Universe!You are encouraged to step out and go outside if you didn't already.Try and join as many events and you will notice many people admiring you.Now its the time for you to shine!I get a feeling that you will meet someone special in the near future who will really help you grow.It is possible that some of you will live the fairytale romance that you always dreamed of this summer!No matter what,your love life will certainly not be dull anymore,Pile 1.For some of you,this connection will help you release old lovers or old habits that stayed in the way of your emotional growth.Try to be optimistic and you will surely be rewarded by the universe!There is a lot of focus here on being confident (hot girl summer💅).Im also picking up on fire energy so either you or your person could be a fire sign or things will move very quickly for you.

Other messages:the color orange,ladder, sunrise,bondage,horse,carnaval,mountain,text message,night time,garden

Pansy meaning in flower language:"Think about me"

Song:

Pile 2

Cards:10 of coins reversed,Page of cups,5 of swords,Queen of cups(Tarot of the Divine);Healing family issues(Romance angels);Peony

Hey there Pile 2!So i noticed very quickly that your energy is blocked,which also affects your love life.You recently have gone through a betrayal of some sorts.This person really took advantage of you and made you feel very unstable.Spirits told me that you need to open up your heart to others and seek out help.It is not good to bottle up your feelings.I'm also hearing that this person might have been from your family or your family is an important element when it comes to your love life.This events left you without hope for the future but you mustn't give up!There are lot of amazing things held in store for you!If you learn to open up The Universe will help you to move on and find the love that you always craved for.I'm hearing that a female figure in your life is worried about you and really insistent in talking with you about your feelings.Don't let anybody hold you back from working towards your dream life!Try to appreciate your present a bit more,and you might find some surprises!For some of you,there's a person who has a crush on you but they're refusing to tell you in fear of rejection and because they know that you're going through tough times.No matter what,you'll come out stronger from this, but you don't have to do it alone.There is love all around you you just have to notice it!

Other messages:baby pink,crib,downtown, forest,Last Night in Soho(movie),knife,flowers, napkin,crying session

Peony meaning in flower language:"Anger and shame"/"Prosperity and compassion"

Song:

Pile 3

Cards:Knight of cups,The World,The Hanged Man,10 of cups reversed(Tarot of the Divine);Getting to know each other(Romance Angels);Hyacinth

Hey Pile 3!So it looks like you have been talking recently with a person that you tought will be your future partner but it just didn't work out.The spirits say that you're too fixated on finding love and you need to take a break and enjoy life.Only then you will be able to receive romance into your life.You've worked very far to get here and it would be a shame to not enjoy your acomplishments.Try and give the same attention you give to other people to yourself.You will then benefit from a glow up!You will also start to enjoy your presence so much that you wont even think about love,and then BAM!💥Love will come knocking at your door!I'm also hearing that you need to take things slow.Maybe try to really get to know the people around you instead of romanticizing them.You will be surprised by some of them!(in either good or bad ways).You need to learn to fall in love with the person,not the idea of them you created in your head.I know you may feel very unfulfilled right now in your love life,but it will get better,you just need to learn to choose the right people for you.Don't be a doormat to them!(this was for a specific person lol,their spirit guide was screaming at me🤣).Overall,don't take things too seriously,try to be a bit more playfull and remember to have fun and put yourself first for once!

Other messages:rose garden,greenhouse,water, warm weather,vacation,pink,shopping,Hawaii, cabin,friends,lovers,big birds,Mexico,family time

Hyacinth meaning in flower language : "Constancy"/"Playfulness"

Song:

That's it,hope it resonate with you~

#pick a pile #pick a card #pick a card reading #love reading #love life #romance #tarot reading #divination #witchcraft #flower language #flowers #Spotify

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written-in-flowers · 27 days

Text

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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damn-stark · 11 months

Text

Chapter 9 Heart of ice

Chapter 9 of Moonlight

A/N- 😙

Warning- Swearing, angst, fluff, talks of blood, death, SPOILERS, LONG CHAPTER.

Pairing- Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!fem-reader, Cregan Stark x Velaryon!fem-reader

Episode- After 1x09, events based off of Fire and Blood

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

*A FEW MONTHS AGO*

“Dragon fruit for the dragon Princess?”

“Pearl necklace for the Siren of Driftmark?”

“Oranges? They’re good for a growing babe.”

You touch your 6 month old swollen belly and come to another stop in front of the stand to study the big round oranges stacked so neatly on the crates.

“How much?” You ask the vendor.

The man puts his hands on his hips and studies his fruit for a moment before facing you. “Discount for you princess. 5 Silver dragons.”

You glance at Aemond, and he hesitates before handing your pouch of money. He doesn’t find this trip necessary, he says that whatever you want can be brought right away. But, you just batted your eyelashes and told him that you needed to take a stroll because of your pregnancy, that the baby needed it, so he accepted without a fight after that.

“I’ll give you 10 golden dragons instead of silver,” you tell the vendor as you get out the golden coins that make the man’s eyes almost pop out of eyes. “Find good use for it.”

The man takes the money, but holds your hand and bows his head. “Thank you, Princess. Thank you, may the gods bless you and yours.”

You offer him a kind smile, and he lets your hand go so you can reach for a box of oranges. However, he then blocks the oranges with his hands. “No, these are no good. I have perfect ones. Juicy and sweet.” He crouches and pulls out a box from under the table and hands it to you.

Albeit before you can even reach Ser Criston takes the box for you.

“Have a nice day, sir,” you direct at the man before you continue down the busy street lively with people.

“<He ripped you off you know,>” Aemond grumbles in High Valyrian so the people around wouldn’t understand him.

You scoff softly as you hook your arm around his. “I know, but I won’t go poor by giving him something extra. Bless them and the gods bless you. Lady Stark would say that.” You sigh and rest your head on his shoulder. “Besides I actually got a craving. Or the babe did.” You grin and touch your belly again, feeling a small movement now. “Feel,” you beckon him and snatch his hand from his side to press it against your small belly. “He’s moving.”

Aemond comes to a stop to caress your belly very gently. You grin at him in awe and slide his hand to the other side. “See? He wants oranges.”

A smile breaks on Aemond’s face before he takes your hand again and continues to walk with you down the street. “You don’t know that it’s a boy,” he points out.

You giggle. “I do. It’s an instinct. When I imagine the babe I see a boy. Always. We’ll have a boy. I’ll even bet you.”

Aemond scoffs and smirks. “You can place your bets with Aegon. He never turns down the chance to gamble. I believe you.”

“Good,” you grin. “Now I wonder how many kids we'll have. Six? I want a big family. But if I can’t have so many I’ll be content with two, but we need to have a baby girl.”

“So you can name her Daenys?” Aemond finishes for you, making you look at him with awe.

“You remember?” You probe.

A small smirk spreads on his lips and he nods. “I do. You’d only bore me with stories about her.”

You roll your eyes. “I wouldn’t bore you. You’d bring me the books!”

“Because it was your favorite,” he counters softly.

You laugh softly and nod. “Still is. Maybe our Daenys will be an amazing dreamer just like the great legend that saved our house.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Maybe.”

You let out a content sigh.

“Spare some food? Money?” A child with his face covered in dirt asks. “Something small?”

“<He just wants to steal from you, they always have money.>” Aemond points out.

Even if he did, you don’t care, you stop and turn to pick out an orange off the box.

The kids' eyes grow curious, and they follow your hand as you move it towards him. You pretend you’re going to give him a single orange, but you then hand it to Aemond and instead grab the box off of Ser Criston’s hold.

“Take it,” you tell the kid. “It’s for you.” You put the box down in front of him and shoot him a smile before you move on.

This time Aemond doesn’t make a remark about your actions, you wouldn't care either way, so he just lets it pass and takes your hand in his again. However, before you can pass the last courtyard before reaching the castle walls, a woman with a bright red dress walks out of her house and announces something that steals your immediate attention.

“Wish to know your future, my Princess?”

“Princess,” Ser Criston interjects now. “She’s only trying to take your money. It’s a scam. Leave it.”

You flick your wrist down and take the money pouch from Aemond’s side.

“Your worry is misplaced, Ser,” the pretty lady with bright and beautiful remarkable colored eyes says. “But I understand. Patience is a fickle thing is it not, Ser Criston Cole? If only you had known it, you would be happy now.” Her eyes dart to you and then go back to him quickly as if trying to point something out.

You don’t read into it, or demand explanation, you let her continue as she looks between all three of you. “I am a humble servant of the Lord of Light,” she rebuttals, “I only mean to give the Princess insight for her eyes are covered and her soul is basked by darkness.”

You smile at her eagerly and let Aemond go to step towards her. “What is your name?” You ask first.

The woman's bright eyes meet yours and her lips tug upward just slightly. “I am Kinvara, Priestess of the Lord of Light.”

“<Y/N, let’s go,> Aemond warns.

“<I am no one to fear, fear resides in the whispers that are heard in the shadows, and from the pretenders…” she pauses and narrows her eyes on him. “You see clearly with her at your side, venture too far and you're left blind. Don’t let the shadows consume you, My Prince, or darkness is all you’ll know.>”

You glance at him and grin brightly before facing her again. “Now can you tell me what I seek?” You press impatiently.

Kinvara turns and walks inside, but you first face Aemond. “Wait for me out here,” you tell him.

Aemond holds your gaze and narrows his gaze. “I won’t get you to leave,” he mutters with discontent. “Just be careful. Don’t give her all your money.”

You shoot him a small smile and then lean in to kiss him before you follow after the Red Priestess, finding a single fire lit on a golden bowl in the middle of the elegant parlor room.

“How much will it cost?” You ask her as you slowly wander to the stand holding the bowl.

“Nothing but your attention,” she shares in such a soothing voice. “And a drop of your blood.”

You stop before the bowl and don’t question offering her your hand. Kinvara picks out a single thin needle and gently cups your hand to poke the sharp end on the pad of your thumb. When a scarlett drop of blood crawls out of the small wound she pulls your hand over the flames and turns it to let the single drop of blood fall in the flames. She then lets your hand go and throws the needle in the flames to let the fire eat away at it.

“You have fire made flesh, a gift from the Lord of Light,” she begins to say.

You clasp your hands over your belly and watch her eyes read the dancing flames with curiosity.

“You have salt littered blood. The dragon of your house sigil has three heads, but your dragon only has one. Your dragon burns fiercely and passionately. Your dragon flies high within the clouds in search of something.” She lets the words slip out, and then meets your gaze across the flames.

You should be intimidated, but you’re not, you’re just eager to know more.

“Three hearts,” Kinvara adds. “One made of ice, two of fire. Four flesh made eggs…”

Four eggs, huh?

“…and loyalty. That is easy to find when you look at the surface of clear waters.”

You shoot her a grin and pick at one thing that caught your attention. “Four eggs? Does it mean I’ll have four kids?”

Kinvara smiles sweetly. “Smart girl. They’ll grow, they’ll know happiness and long lives, hm.” She blinks and her smiles fades to a smirk. “But sins will burden them, cast over them like shadows.”

Right away your smile fades and for the first time since you saw her fear begins to crawl across your mind. “What…does that mean?” You ask quietly.

The red priestess lifts her chin and sighs. “You’ll know.”

How insightful.

“One more thing,” she interjects and moves away from her spot to reach you and grab your hands “Fire kills the girl and awakens the dragon. Follow the flames for they are sweet to you since the moment your seat was taken.”

You let out a deep breath and nod stiffly. You don’t understand completely, or at all actually, but you nod in comprehension before you return to Aemond.

“What did she say?” Aemond asks without waiting to reach the safety of the castle.

So much you didn’t understand.

“We’ll have four kids,” you share the only thing that was clear.

Aemond hums and leaves it at that. Just as you do.

——

*NOW. WINTERFELL*

Was it the flight here, or just your nerves over seeing someone, making your stomach all twisted?

You look at the tall grey stone walls, your eyes climb them to the top expecting to catch a pair of grey eyes, but there’s no one at the top this time. Not like when you first got here.

Good. It gives you time to mentally prepare yourself.

“Gods, I think I’m going to be sick,” you mutter and turn around to give your back to the gates that are getting opened. “Jacaerys cover me. I need to fix my top, it’s too hiked up.”

“They’re coming—”

“Cover me!” You exclaim.

Jacaerys groans and you feel his cloak cover the light bitter breeze that blew.

“I thought there’d be snow,” he adds. “I don’t see it.”

You roll your eyes and pull your top down after having it rise because of your long flight seated on your saddle. “It’s autumn,” you remind him. “They get dry autumns here too. It’s not always covered in snow. But who knows maybe you’ll see snow tomorrow.” You part open the shirt just a bit at the top to show more of your cleavage….it’s warmish and…you are seeing your old lover.

He can look.

“Princess,” a familiar voice calls out.

It’s not Cregan, his voice is a bit deeper, more…well, elegant in way, but not like Aemond’s. Let’s just say that his voice is one you’d know right away. So this is not him.

You turn and push Jacaerys arm down to come face to face with Ser Rolf and a few castle guards. But not Cregan.

“My prince,” Ser Rolf greets your brother by your side.

“Ser Rolf,” you greet with a a faint smile that doesn’t take long to widen to a happy grin whilst you break away and meet him halfway for an embrace. “It’s been too long,” you tell him as you pat his back before you pull away. “I’m happy to see you.”

Ser Rolf mirrors your smile. “And you. A congratulations are in order, I hear. A son. How is he?”

You smile softly and already miss Aerion. “Healthy and growing. How’s your baby girl?”

Ser Rolf nods softly. “Sweet and healthy. I’ll bring her later so you can meet her.”

You clap lightly. “I can’t wait.” You look back at Jacaerys and wave him over. “This is my brother, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon. Brother, this is an old friend, Ser Rolf. He's good friends with Lord Stark.”

Jacaerys gives a stiff nod before glancing around. “Where is Lord Stark? We’ve come to request an audience.” He deadpans.

You swallow thickly and step back to fall by his side again.

“Inside waiting for the both of you already,” Ser Rolf shares, causing your heart to begin racing. “You might want to forgive Lord Stark, you see with whispers of war the Lord's safety is prioritized. But I will take you to him now, follow me.”

Good this way you can build up your confidence between here and the throne room. You’ll hide how nervous you are by seeing him again, by the fear that you’ll lose all feeling for your husband and fall for Cregan’s charm once again. Or that he’ll hate you for being distant.

Or worse he’ll say he’s with someone else now….

Which isn’t a bad thing, at least hearing that tragic news can let you forget all about each other, but still…you can’t help but feel a flicker of jealousy.

“What’s wrong with you?” Jacaerys voice cuts through your racing mind.

You don’t even realize how deep you are in the grounds, or how close you are now to reaching the throne room and…seeing him.

“Just worried,” you avoid the truth. “About Aerion.”

Jacaerys keeps his eyes on you and narrows his gaze, but you just exhale and look at the upcoming hall door.

“He’s safe at Dragonstone,” Jacaerys assures you. “Mother will never let anyone take him. No one will.”

You bite the inside of your cheek and nod unsurely. “You’re right.”

“Besides this is our last stop and then we return home,” he adds softly as you come to a brief stop as guards slowly open the hall doors. “Just hold on for a while longer.”

Aerion’s well-being worried you, but as of now Cregan managed to squeeze himself to your first priority.

“Prince Jacaerys of House Velaryon!” A booming voice gets carried out of the softly lit hall. “And Princess Y/N of House Velaryon, wife of Prince Aemond Targaryen.”

Why do they always need to announce that you're his wife, everyone knows, and he doesn’t own you.

Regardless, with each step you take deeper in the hall, the faster your heart races, the more you feel like throwing up, and the more you feel the need to run out.

As you turn a corner and know he’s fully visible on his great throne just down the hall, you avert your gaze and fist your hands. You feel his gaze though, you feel a warmth on your face. You hear him shifting in his seat, you hear his breath hitch.

When Jacaerys comes to a stop, you don’t fall back, you stand by his side with your eyes still averted.

“My prince,” there it is, that’s his voice….gods it brings you goosebumps. “My Princess…” he hesitates for a moment, a single second longer, but it’s enough for you to finally break your gaze away from the ground and slowly lift your gaze to meet his…familiar grey eyes.

And gods it’s like a breath of fresh air, like…seeing color again…

His hair is longer now, half of it is tied back; he couldn’t do that when you were here. His face hasn’t changed though, there’s no new wrinkles, it’s the same stern one you knew, the same one you dream about. His shoulders however, his arms are bigger, it seems like his muscles want to burst out of his shirt….

Married. Aemond. You’re still married.

“Welcome to Winterfell, I hope your flight here wasn’t so cold,” Cregan says and holds your gaze the entire time.

“No,” you assure him, causing the corner of his lips to twitch to a smile. “The winds were gracious on our way North, thank you Lord Stark.”

“Good.”

You can’t help your smile no matter how hard you try to fight it.

“I hope you forgive our sudden presence,” Jacaerys manages to cut in, pulling your eyes to him and noticing he was studying you with a pointed look, so you lose your smile and avert your gaze—“And our bluntness, Lord Stark, but we come here to deliver you a message from the Queen.”

Cregan lifts his chin and glances at his maester before facing both Jacaerys and you. “Not so long ago I received an envoy from a man who claims himself to be King.”

“He’s no King,” Jacaerys spats. “He’s a usurper. We come bearing news from your rightful ruler.”

You share a confident glance with your brother and then watch the maester take the scroll from his hand to deliver it to Cregan.

When the Lord takes it and reads the neatly written words he sighs and doesn’t take long to lower the paper and face you again.

“We can't offer you anything in return for your swords, and lives, Lord Stark,” you interject with your nose in the air to present yourself as collected even if your mind is still running like crazy. You want to just maybe let your brother talk, but you know that your fight and duty is more important than your feelings right now.

“Nor have we come to beg. But we hope that the North and you are everything that your ancestors have lived up to, that your father has lived up to. Loyal.”

Cregan slightly tilts his head and narrows his gaze just slightly as he grows intrigued by the way you speak.

“Your father bent the knee in front of my mother, he swore that House Stark and the North will follow the line of succession, and in the years my grandsire, the late King, was alive he never changed his heir. The rightful ruler is my mother, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, and your Queen's throne was stolen. Stand for your Queen, Lord Stark. Or break tradition and stand against the crown.”

Cregan lets out a deep breath and taps the scroll agaisnt the arm rest. “Your words move me Princess. And truly, what Lord would I be if I break my oaths? The Queen will not see the North break faith…”

You share a relieved look with Jacaerys, but it doesn’t last since there’s still more to come from Cregan. You know it.

“But…this war feels almost like family affairs, why should we support this war?” He asks, making you scoff. “Winter is coming, my priorities should be on my people. Besides, you have dragons, why not use those? Why risk our lives for this war?”

You part your lips to argue, but Jacaerys interjects this time.

“The Queen doesn’t want to rule over lands of ash and bone. But if you don’t support this war, the Greens will retaliate and leave nothing but ash of the North. They threaten your Queen’s life, they steal from her, will you stand and see your home burnt? Will you sit and do nothing as an injustice is acted against your Queen? Or will you and your people fight for what’s right? Fight for your lands and your lives?”

Cregan’s gaze drifts to his maester and other people listening to this conversation. He sighs and leaves the room quiet, making Jacaerys and you share a quick worried look before facing Cregan.

“You’ve left me a lot to think about,” Cregan breaks his short contemplating silence. “I hope you know fighting in war is not something to accept lightly, please rest, bathe, eat. Your journey must’ve been a long one.”

You scoff and counter. “For how long? We won’t leave until we get an answer.”

Cregan’s chest rises. “Soon. Please let us show you where you can lay your heads. I will give you my answer, I swear you that.”

Jacaerys sighs, but you catch him nod in agreement with a relaxed expression. “Thank you Lord Stark. We will wait diligently.” He bows his head and shifts his stance to face you with a scolding look.

You sigh deeply and drag your eyes to meet Cregan’s. “Thank you.” You deadpan. You blink and look away in annoyance.

The plan was for him to accept, and then leave so you wouldn't have to stay here longer than you should, but no….no?! Gods.

You attempt to follow a maester to your temporary chambers, but just as you walk a few paces, the door that leads deeper in the castle perimeters opens and a servant walks out with a small toddler. It’s not hard to guess who he is, you last saw baby Rickon when he was only a few days old, but you’ll never forget him or his grey eyes that match Cregan’s.

“Gods,” you gasp softly and quickly push past Jacaerys to meet the servant halfway. “It can’t be, baby Rickon.” You smile and look back at Cregan stepping down from the small platform that holds his chair, before facing the child with dark hair.

“Hello,” you coo at the toddler. “Little Lord….” You trail off and look back at Cregan. “May I hold him?”

Cregan tries hard not to smile as he nods in agreement.

“Hello,” you tell the toddler again as you face him and carefully take him from the servants hold. “Oh you’re so big,” you laugh softly. “What pretty eyes you have…” you steal a glance back at Cregan.

“Y/N,” Jacaerys calls out impatiently.

You ignore your brother and begin to walk after the maester walking you to your chambers. “You may not remember me, but we know each other.”

“H-hello,” the little boy says, making you gush and beam.

“Hi,” you repeat. “Oh you look like your mother. Expect for your eyes,” you say and brush his bangs back. “You have your fathers eyes. Grey like a brewing storm.”

“Hello,” Rickon repeats as he now takes your pendant in his hands.

“Oh, my grandmother gave me that when I left to come here six years ago.” You let him know even if he probably doesn’t understand what you mean. “One side has a three headed dragon, and the other…” you trial off and turn the pendant. “Is a seahorse. My houses.”

“I’ve heard you have a baby of your own,” Cregan interjects as if he doesn’t know already. You wrote about it. “Congratulations, princess.”

You swallow thickly and smile back at him as he follows your brother and you to your chambers. “Yes,” you respond without expressing too much emotion. “A son, Aerion. He’s four months old. He also likes my pendant,” you direct at Rickon. “He puts it in his mouth, just like everything else he can grab.”

“Why did he not come with you?” Cregan asks.

“He stayed at Dragonstone. With things as tense as they are I didn’t want to stress him out, or risk his life. Maybe…once this is over I’ll bring him to meet the North, and see the snow. I’m sure he’ll love it.”

“Have you taken him on your dragon?”

You nod and can’t help your soft smile at the memory. “Yes, we have. He loved it, he wanted to reach out for the clouds…he wanted to watch everything. He never cried. But it’s as I tell Aemond, he was meant to fly the skies.” You grin and watch Rickon play with your pendant.

“I’m surprised,” Jacaerys scoffs. “Aemond pays so much attention to Aerion. He doesn’t seem like the father type.”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t be mean, Jace. And don’t speak on matters you don’t know, Aemond loves Aerion,” you defend your husband. “He’s a very attentive father, so leave it be please.”

Jacaerys lets out a deep annoyed breath and as to not dwell on the matters, you peer back at Cregan. “You should be thankful, Rickon is the very image of his mother.” You shoot him a smile and let your gaze linger, finding it hard to look away.

“To that I am grateful to every day,” Cregan says as he holds your gaze. “It’s a pleasure seeing you again, Princess. We didn’t expect to see you so soon.”

You sigh and glance at your other side, catching Jacaerys watchful eye, so you go serious and hand Rickon back to the servant girl. “Thank you,” you say back. “Lord Stark. It’s a delight being back…I actually missed the North.” You leave it at that and feel thankful that you come to a stop in front of the door to your old quarters.

“You can stay here, Princess,” the maester points out. “Some ladies will come and draw you a bath shortly.” He bows his head and they leave you there to take Jacaerys to the chambers next door. Which is good!

He’s close so won’t give into temptations, and you won’t sneak around. Then again…Cregan is right here.

“I hope to see you at dinner, Princess,” he mutters a bit softer, but not soft enough so as to keep appearances. “It will be in the honor of you and your brother.”

You clasp your hands together and nod softly as you hold his mesmerizing grey eyes. “I’ll be there.”

Cregan offers you a comprehensive nod as he stays close. “I’ll see you then.” He says.

“I’ll see you then,” you repeat softly. “Lord Stark.” You glance down the hall and notice that Jacaerys gaze is focused on the maester talking away, so you quickly meet Cregan’s gaze and tease him with curtsy.

A small smirk breaks out on his face, and he rolls his eyes before he walks away, leaving you giggling to yourself as you disappear inside your old quarters.

It feels like being back home. Funnily enough.

——

*LATER*

There’s so much to pray for, so much to ask for that it feels unfair to actually speak it to the gods. But how can you not ask for your family's well-being? For this war to come to a swift end?

Maybe Ser Jason is right, maybe you can leave. Take Aerion and fly away on Astraea. If Aemond wants to come then he can, but if he wants to fight this foolish war for his brother then he can stay. No matter how much you love him you’d leave without him…

But, on the other hand your mother and your brothers need you, and what kind of person just leaves their family in their time of need?

Wouldn’t it be nice though?

“Still daydreaming?”

Cregan.

You look over your shoulder and see him walking deeper into the Godswood with a charming smile on his face.

“Cregan,” you greet happily now that there isn’t anyone around.

Without an ounce of hesitation you break away from your spot in front of the Weirwood tree, while Cregan picks up his pace to meet you halfway with a mighty embrace.

It’s been so long, no matter what distance you need, you can’t help your happiness and your relief upon being wrapped by his arms again.

“My darling love,” he murmurs as he lifts you a few inches off the ground. “Oh it’s been an eternity it seems.”

You grin and clutch harder onto him. “I thought I’d never see you again,” you say softly.

Cregan sighs and slides one hand to the back of your head to press you closer to him. “How I’ve missed the sound of your voice,” he admits, making your face begin to grow warm and your heart to beat harder.

He shouldn’t be saying these things…

As soon as he puts you back on the ground you pull back to meet his gaze. However, it’s while you do pull back that he cups your cheeks and leans in as if nothing.

You’d let him just to remember his taste, but you can’t do this to Aemond. So you step back and shake your head.

“We can’t do that anymore,” you tell him with disdain to your own protests.

Cregan’s smile fades, he licks his lips and steps back as he nods stiffly. “Right…you’re married now.”

“Yes,” you whisper, “it is good seeing you again though. I have truly missed the North, the snow and…you.”

The corner of his lips pull upward just slightly. “I’ve missed you,” he redirects before he proceeds to glance back at the Weirwood tree. “Forgive me for interrupting.”

You shake your head. “It’s quite fine, I was done already. I was just…daydreaming.” You laugh softly.

Cregan scoffs softly. “I was right then…so what is it you were dreaming about?”

You let out a deep breath and shift around. “How nice it would feel to escape this war.” You look up at the sky and sigh. “To avoid facing my husband who fights against me. To avoid all of it.”

A few footsteps are taken towards you, but you don’t see Cregan by your side. You just hear his voice, “I could offer you and your son refuge here.”

You drop your head and shake your head. “I can’t just leave my mother. Or sit back while everyone fights. I would never forgive myself if someone from my family died while I was sitting here.” You pull the peach-orange pearl from your pocket and begin to fiddle with it. “But thank you. I’ll keep it in mind.” You face him and smile softly. “How have you been?”

“Better now that I can see you again,” he coos and takes a step closer to you. “You look incredibly beautiful by the way. I love that cloak.”

You giggle and pick up the red cloak hanging over your back. “It’s quite impressive isn't it? Now I’m like you. Lord Stark.”

Cregan rolls his eyes lightheartedly. “Stop it.”

Silence then follows and his eyes soften before he changes the subject. “Tell me now that we don’t have an audience. How is your son?”

Your grin brightens and you can’t help but swoon. “Oh he’s so perfect. He smiles now and he tries to laugh but he can’t quite yet so it’s like he’s gasping for air,” you giggle. “And he’s sweet, timid, but very sweet. The gods have truly blessed me. I’m happy being a mother.”

“Good, I’m happy for you,” he mutters with a very faint smile. “I only ask because you have failed to write as much as you would.”

Oh…he’s noticed. Seven hells.

Your smile fades and the glimmer in your eyes begins to go out. “Yes,” you don’t deny his claims and interlace your hands together. “I have been trying to stop writing back.”

Cregan blinks and his eyes narrow just slightly. “Why?” He asks as if he doesn’t assume already. As if he doesn’t know your relationship is forbidden.

“Because I’m married,” you explain. “We have a son and I can’t do that to Aemond. Cregan, I love you, I don’t think I will ever stop, but I love him too. I love my life,” you admit with a faint smile. “I’ve grown to be content with what I have. And I owe Aemond the loyalty and respect he gives me. I want my children to grow up seeing his parents actually in love and not at each other's throats or like strangers that have to live together.” You sigh shakily and approach him now to take his hands in yours. “And I know that if I keep this secret going we will be discovered.”

“Then I will marry you,” he argues. “I will take you.”

You scoff. “That’s if I’m not killed first, or banished and have my titles and name taken from me. I’m not a man Cregan, I can’t have lovers. I’m a woman, a princess, I would be shamed for all my life, ripped away from my son, my family. I can’t be selfish anymore.” Your voice breaks and tears sting in your eyes. “I have to let you go. You have to let me go.” You pull his hands up to your lips and press a kiss on his knuckles. “I need you to do that for me.”

Cregan averts his gaze and turns his head away, causing you to grab his chin and tilt his head so you can meet each other's gazes. “I love you Cregan. You were a blessing for me. You were everything to me. I could never forget you or the time we shared, the love we had for each other. But I…I’m letting you go.”

Cregan draws in a deep breath and meets your gaze with his eyes glimmering with tears. “Does he love you? Does he treat you good? Tell me that or I will forever be restless.”

Without hesitation you give him the truth. “He does. He’s rough around the edges, but he’s good.”

Cregan let’s out a shaky breath and nods stiffly. “Then…I can rest. I can do what you want, but just know, if this war takes him away from you I will bring you back to me. I will raise your son as my own.” He presses his forehead agaisnt yours, and you laugh softly.

“I like the sound of that,” you whisper.

Cregan lingers right there, he pulls his hand away from yours and slides them up to cup your cheeks.

“I love you, y/n Velaryon. Since the moment I saw you trying to climb that wall…”

Tears roll down your cheeks and your smile wobbles.

“I love your spirit, I love your eagerness for this world, the way you love so deeply,” he confesses to you in such a soft manner. “I love you for everything you are, no one in this world will ever compare to you, nor will I ever love someone else as much as I love you.” He closes his eyes and just relishes in your approximaty, he inhales and takes in your sweet scent that is mixed with your dragon's scent. He caresses your cheeks and leans in, but he doesn’t kiss you, you don’t let him even if you want so badly to get one last reminder is his lips. You just feel the warmth of his lips brush over yours.

You bask in this moment too, not wanting to break away, wanting to stay here forever. But you can’t, besides Jacaerys is here, it’s a miracle he hasn’t come searching for you already.

“We have to go,” you break the tension. “My brother, he'll come looking for me, and if he sees us like this he’ll…” you laugh softly. “Snap.” You pull back and offer Cregan a smile. “Besides, we still have some time left together. We still are friends.”

Cregan nods. “Yes we are, and friends can dance together.”

You begin to grin. “Aye, they can, and they can still be around each other as long as my brother is with us.”

“Aye,” he agrees with a smirk. “They can still talk at meal times.”

You hum in agreement and begin to walk past him slowly and with your hips swaying, knowing he was watching you walk away. “Friends cannot share lingering looks.”

“No,” Cregan laughs. “And they can't hold hands or sneak off the castle grounds in the middle of the night, but! They can give you flowers.”

You peer back and nod. “Especially those beautiful Blue Winter Roses.”

“They’ll never compare to your beauty, but yes.”

You roll your eyes ahead and clasp your hands behind you. “I’ll see you later for supper, Lord Stark.”

“I cannot wait, Princess y/n.”

You smile at the ground and disappear behind the wall.

——

*THE NEXT DAY*

Come to one place expecting to be somewhat entertained by all the drama, but no. No! You’re bored, wondering where the hell Cregan took Jacaerys since dawn.

At dinner the two of them really didn’t have trouble getting along. Which is good your mother did say to get along with him. Albeit couldn’t they let you know? At least with Aemond at King’s Landing he’d be with you, you’d drag him to do things you like and he wouldn’t complain. But here?

Seven hells…

You actually miss Aemond. As you lay here in the parlor room in the castle of Winterfell, here in Cregan’s halls, you miss your husband.

But…you are also delighted to be with Cregan…

Fuck! Why did this have to happen to you? Why not just love one man? Sure what would be the fun in that? But life would be simpler.

You groan and press the pillow against your face. Hopefully, death will take you and solve your hearts issues.

Alas, only mere seconds later the sound of Cregan’s laugh can be heard down the hall, along with two pair of footsteps approaching. And as always you let them know your emotions by pulling the pillow off your face and closing your eyes as the door swings open.

“Sister, I’m back,” Jacaerys announces happily. “I’ve just had the most fun I’ve had in weeks,” he laughs. “Lord Stark and I just went training and he took me to explore the lands that surround this castle.” His voice gets closer as he walks to you laying on the couch.

When you hear him stop before you, he nudges your face. “I know you are not sleeping, what’s wrong with you?”

You exhale deeply. “Boredom, it’s killed me.”

“Gods,” Jacaerys groans.

You open your eyes and sit up to rest your arm on the top of the couch, and then rest your chin on your arm, catching Cregan’s amused gaze.

“It’s so true, you know how easily I get bored, Jacaerys!” You counter and peer back to watch him approach the fireplace. “Why didn’t you let me know where you were going?” You ask.

Jacaerys shrugs. “I don’t need to, and you were sleeping.”

You groan. “Well it’s so good you had so much fun. I had to break fast alone. Which,” you shoot Cregan a pointed glare now. “Thank you for that.”

Cregan scoffs softly and holds your gaze with a small smirk.

You should’ve looked away, but you let your gaze linger and can’t help your lips from pulling to a small smile.

“Hey! Where did you get that pair of clothes?” Jacaerys asks.

You climb off the couch and stretch out your arms slowly, letting the half red cloak swiftly slide down your back. “I packed it,” you say as if it wasn't obvious. “Which reminds me I need to go back home and grab more clothes. I only packed for a week.”

Jacaerys huffs. “Return and you’ll be inprisoned.”

You shrug. “A risk I'm willing to take,” you don’t argue and look down at your tight black jumpsuit that was intended for riding. “How can I show my face if I wear the same outfit more than two times? I can reuse my riding outfits, it’s a risk I can take, but repeating my gowns?” You exclaim dramatically and approach him to grab his arm. “That is a crime worse than death.”

Jacaerys rolls his eyes and tilts his head away from you. “You’re being dramatic,” he grumbles.

You glance over at Cregan who is truly amused by your conversation, so you grin before you wrap your arms around your brother. “You should be worried baby brother, I mean how can you repeat your outfits when you’re trying to impress your betrothed, hm? You need more jewelry, silks!” You laugh and slide away from him. “Maybe grow out your hair? A man with long hair is very much eye catching.” You smile sweetly and spare a quick glance at Cregan.

Jacaerys follows your quick line of gaze and then looks back at you. Albeit you just ignore it and sigh as you begin walking to the door. “Well, I’ll go, be bored somewhere else where people enjoy my company.” You approach Cregan and bow your head. “Lord Stark.”

Cregan’s eyes lock with yours and follow you as you slowly walk past him.

“Wait,” Jacaerys interjects, making you instantly freeze and go stiff, causing Cregan’s eyes to snap off you right away. “Is this yours?”

You look past your shoulder and blink as you see him holding up your orange pearl. “Yes,” you agree and walk back to him.

“Where did you get it? It’s very pretty,” Jacaerys says and moves it around.

“Don’t worry about it,” you deadpan as you reach him. “It’s mine give it.” You reach over to take it back, but he pulls his hand away. “Jace.”

Said man begins to smile as a thought goes off behind his eyes. “It was that knight wasn’t it? Ser Jason?” He snickers and keeps moving it away from you. “You have been talking with him a lot!” He points out, making you cringe since Cregan was here.

“So what of it?” You snap back and grab his arm to yank it towards you and snatch back your pearl. “He’s my sworn protector, I can befriend him.” You turn on your heels and storm away.

“What would your husband say?” Jacaerys taunts. “He was fuming when you were dancing with Lucerys.”

“<Shut up,>” you sneer in High Valyrian.

Jacaerys snickers, and as you walk past Cregan again you avert his gaze.

“Wait,” Cregan this time interjects, forcing you to stop in front of the door and look back—“the day is clear, the breeze is calm, we should go hunting, all of us. I remember how much you enjoyed walking in the forest, Princess.”

Smart.

“Only if Jacaerys will go,” you rebuttal and meet your brothers gaze.

Luckily Jacaerys gives you a smile and an accepting nod. “Sure, let’s go.”

You grin and clap your hands, waiting for both men out in the hall before you lead them out to the armory to grab what you need.

“Y/N,” Jacaerys calls out softly. “I was telling Lord Stark, here what a good singer you are. And that maybe at dinner you should sing something.”

Singing isn’t something you do with anyone besides your family and Aerion. The name they call you, “the Siren of Driftmark”, was only given to you by your grandfather Corlys, and it spread because your father would talk when he was drunk. Aemond would always tell you not to hide your talent, he says that the gods blessed you for a reason, but, it just never came easy to sing in front of strangers.

“She brought our grandfather Corlys to tears once,” Jacaerys shows you off proudly. “And he is a very closed off man.”

You can feel Cregan’s stare, but you avoid it. “I did not know the Princess could sing,” he says. “She never graced our halls with her gift,”

You try to brush off this request quickly. “I don’t sing in the common tongue, I only sing in High Valyrian. They won’t understand me.”

Cregan scoffs softly. “We don’t need to, my mother said songs are emotions. We don’t need to understand you, we’ll feel what you’re singing. Sadness, grief, happiness, love…it’s all in the way you sing.”

You sigh deeply and shrug. “Maybe I’ll sing something small. But don’t rely on it.” You reach the courtyard soon thereafter and feel thankful that you can leave this conversation by distracting yourself by picking up your weapons.

And the moment you do begin walking out the castle grounds you pull the attention away from their request. “Okay, I need to tell you two something I got told by a red priestess when I went to town a few months back.” You hang the bow around your shoulder to skip ahead and start walking backwards to be able to face the both of them.

“A red priestess?” Jacaerys query’s. “What were you doing talking to witches?”

You scoff and counter. “She’s not a witch! A priestess! And she told me if you don’t let me talk you’ll get an arrow through your throat.”

Jacaerys rolls his eyes and you gracefully continue.

“To put it simple so you boys can understand—”

“Y/N,” Jacaerys scolds, not knowing that Cregan won’t take offense to your quips.

“I have fire made flesh, salt littered blood,” you ignore him. “I will have three more children who will all live good lives,” you grin happily, but Cregan’s smile falters at the mention. “And I’m in search of hearts, one made of ice, two of fire. I don’t know what that means but it sounds interesting. And! She said that the fire is kind to me, that fire will kill the girl and awaken the dragon, hm? Also that loyalty can be seen in the surface of clear waters.”

“Well that one is easy,” Cregan interjects with curiosity. “You see your reflection when you look at the surface of clear waters. Blurry, but it’s still you.”

“So what? Find loyalty in yourself?” Jacaerys adds on to the comment.

You nod eagerly. “Yes! I’ll find loyalty in myself.” You smirk now and shrug. “I still have yet to figure out what she meant, but I quite enjoyed getting that told to me. And I did enjoy sharing it outloud” You twirl back around and leave the conversation at that to rush towards the forest line ahead of you.

Since you know these woods like the back of your hand you don’t wait for either man to catch up, you navigate past the trees, over branches spilled on the ground until you spot a creek with fish residing inside.

They move fast. Some twirl up dirt with their tails as they swim around fast, clouding the sight of your target as you pull out your bow and arrow.

“I saw a rabbit nearby,” Jacaerys points out as he and Cregan catch up to you.

You line up your arrow and raise your bow. “I don’t hunt rabbits,” you murmur.

“She gets too sad,” Cregan says, causing Jacaerys to glance at him weirdly. “She’ll eat rabbit, but she can’t hunt it herself.”

“Mhm-mm,” you hum as you draw in a deep breath and lock your eyes on a glimmering grey fish. It moved fast by you follow it.

That is until you suddenly feel someone blow in your ear. You don’t need to loo back to know it was Jacaerys.

“Quit it,” you grumble and keep your eyes on the fish. “I’m trying to concentrate.”

“A good hunter works through their distraction,” Jacaerys taunts.

“Not if the distractions breath smells,” you quip back and let the arrow go, managing to hit a fish directly in the eye and causing it to squirm. “Haha!” You exclaim and put your bow down. You then look back at Jacaerys and Cregan, and shoot them a cocky grin. “What’s my prize?”

Cregan begins to smile, and Jacaerys remarks. “A child can do that, you’re not special.”

You roll your eyes and go and pick up your trophy out of the water. “Fine then, you do it. Hit a fish right in the eye. Fish here aren’t like the ones in Dragonstone or Kings Landing, they move fast here, use the dirt to hide.”

Jacaerys blows out air and brushes you off to now take the spot you stood on to hunt, letting you take his spot by Cregan and secretly high five over your achievement. When Jacaerys aims his arrow you begin to taunt him back by kicking a rock in the water and making the fish scurry around.

“Stop it,” Jacaerys hisses.

You snicker and wait for the fish to gather again before you kick a branch in the water.

“<Bitch,>” Jacaerys swears at you in High Valyrian.

You feign an offended gasp, but rebuttal. “<Small dick boy.>”

Now that wasn’t anyway for either of you to talk, you’re royalty, but you only talked like that to each other.

“What did you just say?” Cregan asks quietly as you watch the fish gather again.

You glance at him and smile before you pat his arm and assure him. “Nothing lady like.” You slide your hand off his arm, but let your hand brush against his.

Jacaerys then proceeds to shoot his arrow, but he doesn’t hit anything even if the fish are an easy target.

“What?” You exclaim. “I thought it was easy.”

Jacaerys glares back at you. “You kept distracting me,” he complains.

You snicker. “No excuse. You just suck.”

Your brother ignores you and marches to the water to grab his arrow.

“While you two were squabbling, a flock of birds landed not so far from here. I’ll throw a rock and we have to shoot one down from here.” Cregan suggests, making your eyes go wide with interest.

“Let’s do it,” Jacaerys quickly inputs to try and prove his worth.

Cregan shoots you both a half grin before he walks a few paces ahead to pick up a pebble. “Ready?” He asks as he looks back at Jacaerys and you.

You pull out another arrow and your brother pulls out his before he responds without checking if you actually were. “Ready!”

Cregan takes what he needs and then hurls the pebble to where the birds are. The moment the pebble hits something, the birds get startled and fly out to the sky, causing all three of you to aim your arrows up at them. Albeit as the men shoot directly at the birds, you aim to the sky and wait for a bird to approach. As it gets close to your aim, you shoot at the sky.

“That was a big fail,” Jacaerys immediately teases you, but he quickly falls flat because the bird flies directly through your aim and gets hit through the eye.

“What?” You laugh. “I win!”

The bird falls through the trees not far away from where you stand, and you turn even more smug. “Now imagine me hunting on dragonback. It’s very fun.”

Cregan rolls his eyes and then begins heading to where his bird had landed. “It’s dangerous.” He yells back.

You break away from your spot and walk to your trophy. “I’m restrained!” You assure him.

Jacaerys scoffs and follows behind you since the bird he managed to hit landed near yours. “Then how do you hunt? The restraints must hold you back.”

“It’s a lot of teamwork between Astraea and I,” you explain and look to the sky as if Astraea was flying above you. “She glides and I aim. It was hard at first, but now it’s like she knows where I want her to move.” You grin back at him. “I can show you!”

Jacaerys sighs and shakes his head. “No thank you, I don’t want your death on me, Aemond would skin me.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s safe. But if you don’t want your sister to overshadow you,” you then whisper so Cregan won’t hear in the distance, “in front of Lord Stark, then I will have to show off my skills later.”

Jacaerys playfully narrows his gaze on you. “Go ahead.”

You shoot him a happy smile and then proceed to hurry through the woods to collect your trophy. Now the rest of the day is spent talking about whatever came up, laughing and just enjoying each other's company.

Having your brother with you now felt so exciting, not like before. Sure you enjoyed Cregan’s company, and liked his friends that also became yours, but having family with you is different, it’s more relieving, you can be more yourself, it’s just better in every way. Even if you squabble a lot.

Cregan also seems to enjoy Jacaerys company, he especially finds amusement in the way you two argue and taunt one another as well. He says that it seems that Jacaerys and you really share a strong sibling bond that he envies. Maybe in a different life, one where you married Cregan—

No…you can’t feed into that thought, no matter how nice it may seem. So, pushing that aside, the day passes right under you, the sun sets without either of you paying attention; that’s how much you all enjoyed each other's company, how you forget about the war that looms. And it’s because of your long day that you fall asleep quickly without having to think about Cregan at night; and how much you want to be in his company alone in his chambers.

You didn’t wake until a knock rapped on your door with urgency.

Jacaerys? What may he want that he can't wait to tell you later?!

“Come in,” you respond to the visitor as you sit up on your bed.

The door opens and the maester comes in. He stops at the doorway and averts his gaze right away since you are considered indecent. “Princess,” he mutters to the ground. “A raven just arrived from Dragonstone.”

Your mother…what happened?

You sigh and climb out of your bed to take the scroll from his hand. “Thank you, maester.”

Said man bows his head and quickly scurries away to leave you to yourself. Once the door is closed you break the wax and unroll the scroll, realizing right away that the handwriting on the paper is not your mothers.

“Prince Jacaerys & Princess Y/N,

I write with urgency and great sorrow, your brother, Prince Lucerys has passed—”

The air in your lungs escapes with your gasp, and your heart sinks right away, but you still don’t believe the news.

“—The Greens have struck their first blow, Prince Aemond killed Prince Lucerys in Storm's End. The details of what happened aren’t clear, that’s all we know right now. But you had the right to know. Stay in Winterfell for a few more days for your safety. Be wary.

Daemon.”

No…no, he has to be lying. It’s Daemon playing games.

You begin to pace the room, feeling a weight on your chest and your mind running mad with different thoughts, outcomes, arguments.

Aemond couldn’t have done that. No it’s not possible, you told him not to act against your brothers. He couldn’t have done it.

You shake your head and face the fire lit in the fireplace. Daemon wouldn't play with news like this, but Lucerys. Sweet Lucerys can’t be gone.

Yet no matter how much you try to deny it you know, deep within that it is true. That your little brother is gone…

Oh gods…

You fall to your knees and begin to sob alone, wishing that the accused was actually here now to comfort you.

But he isn’t here, you’re in Winterfell, feeling all that joy and relief crumble and get consumed by sorrow and darkness. You’re in Winterfell away from the comfort of your mother, you’re here only with Jacaerys.

Jacaerys…That’s right, you need to tell him.

However, when you try to share the news he isn’t here, he’s out with Cregan again. So you wait in the parlor room, crying as you lose your gaze in the sky above the balcony.

It takes a while, but at long last your brother and Cregan find you.

“I know, I know I left,” Jacaerys comes in saying with nothing but joy in his tone. “But hear this, Cregan accepted to fight with us.”

You’re too grief stricken to speak, and the only one who notices right away is Cregan.

“What’s wrong Princess? You plan to ignore us?” He playfully says.

With tears running down your cheeks, and the scroll trembling in your hand you slowly turn to face both men with sorrow painted all over your face, catching them by surprise.

“What’s wrong, y/n?” Jacaerys asks with immediate concern. “Is it Aerion?”

You sniffle and offer him the scroll. Jacaerys glances at the shaky sheet before looking at your tears and cautiously approaching you.

“You can’t get upset, Jace,” you warn him. “Please don’t lash out.”

Jacaerys scoffs and snatches the scroll from you. He turns to give you his back and you finally meet Cregan’s gaze, catching the pity and the longing to comfort you now, but unable to.

“No,” Jacaerys gasps and goes stiff. “No. That can’t be…” he trails off, and he soon begins to breathe hard before he balls up the paper in his hand, and throws the vases on the table beside him off the surface.

“Jace,” you quiver out.

Your brother ignores you though and begins to stomp away, mumbling under his breath. “I’m going to kill him.”

“Jacaerys!” You yell, catching his attention now.

“You read the letter,” you mumble. “We have to stay. Please.”

Jacaerys slowly faces you with tears rolling down his cheeks, and that just breaks you even more. He sniffles before he breaks away from his spot and approaches you to immediately wrap you in an embrace.

You hug him back and cry into his shoulder while your mind also went back to Aemond.

You’ll get the truth from him. He couldn’t have done it on purpose, no he couldn’t have. He knows how much that would hurt you…

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