#like perhaps she’d keep plants

[rogueolight]

wish we had some content of shiori that didn’t solely revolve around juri

#as much as i adore their parallels… #and i know it’s similar where everything that leads juri to take action #is like intrinsically linked back to shiori #but like. #there is literally not an ounce of downtime for shiori specifically #her only hobby can’t be stealing mid men to cope with the homosexuality demons #or if it is get some more damn 😭😭 #shiori takatsuki #idk i like imagining what she would do u know #like perhaps she’d keep plants #sort of tugging at that parallel between her and anthy #but probably not quite near as overtly metaphorical #unless she grew the orange rose she gifted to juri on her own. THEN. #but i don’t think the plants she’d keep would have flowers #idk i think it would help her heal to do some shit for herself #also like to think she might have a perfume shop post ohtori… #this came to me in a dream #i was like she has that vibe #plusss. model juri post ohtori coincidentally modeling for her business #just think about it #kibinevershutsthefuckup #<- too much yapping

[the-californicationist]

The Powder Keg

John Price has just spent the whole afternoon teaching his new recruit how to shoot, and after pining for her all day, he’s about ready to burst, just like a powder keg…

Hot, steaming water sprayed out of the shower head and soaked his burnt, pink skin. When he took in a deep breath, it was humid and heavy, filling his lungs with more moisture than air, leaving him panting and weak from the heat of it. But, he let it suffocate him. He allowed it to obfuscate his senses, to coat his mouth like a gag, to stop him from calling out for her. John Price was so damn close to forgetting himself. He pulled his imaginary muzzle tighter, just in case.

He’d spent the better part of the day in the frigid sands in some Urzikstani Green zone, teaching his new sergeant to shoot his M-16. She was a good marksman, but she was unfamiliar with the desert’s unforgiving winds, and she needed to see how he had set his sights. It shouldn’t have taken so long for him to help her, and if he was before Peter at those gates of pearl and splendor, forced to tell the truth, he had chosen to keep her there. He’d been selfish, preferring to watch her laying there, prone and panting, firing bullet after bullet, all to please her captain. It was the betrayal of the sun that had ruined his gluttony. It had set behind the dunes, forcing John to come indoors and try to wash off all of his sin. 

Price had been hard all day. Seeing her plump arse in those canvas pants, looking down at her, concentrating and vulnerable in the sand… it was enough to drive him wild. Now, here he was, gripping his heavy rod like a teenager, squeezing himself tight enough to see stars. 

The soap and the suds had all washed away, but the billowing steam had remained. He felt each scalding droplet stinging against his sun-ravaged skin, and he used it like a million little flogs, punishing himself for his thoughts of her. She, in the inky blackness of his mind, had been… everywhere. She was stripping for him, peeling away each article of clothing, each layer of her uniform with calculated effort, revealing herself to him bit by bit. He was watching as her fingers dug into the band of her pants, sliding them down her thick thighs, showing off her tattooed skin, uncovering scars like tiny secrets. Secrets only he could know. 

She was grabbing his cock. It was her hand tugging him hard, not his. Her palm slipping over his rosy head, her fingers slipping his foreskin down his shaft, her mouth…

“Unghh…” John leaned against the cold tile, trying to calm himself down. His forehead dug into the white ceramic, rolling across it, trying to find some relief to his torment.

He knew her mouth would feel so sweet. She would plant a delicate little kiss on the top of it, wouldn’t she? She was so kind. She would be so kind to him. An old dog who didn’t deserve it. Not one lick. And yet, she would lick him. Her tongue would lap around his thick base, purring at his size, gassing him up, pumping his ego. Maybe it would be the truth. Either way, he’d buy it; hook, line, and sinker. 

“Baby, baby, baby…” He’d name her. She’d be his. His woman. His everything. She’d steal his breath like this impenetrable steam.

The tip of her tongue would find that ridge, the one tucked under his head, the one just below his hole, and she’d suckle at it, just as if she was pulling venom from a snake bite, like his life depended on it. And maybe it did. 

Maybe she would be willing to sit across his lips, giving herself to him like a feast to a starving man. She would taste like nectar, and it would coat his tongue, sticky and cloying, painting his palate and filling his nose. He would learn her scent, burying himself into it, finding himself within her taste and her warmth. 

Then, mercifully, perhaps she would take him inside of her, deep into her body. He would sink into her, down into her depths. Engulfed. Surrounded. At her mercy. Perhaps she would use those soft muscles to hold him in, to clutch at him like a hungry, suckling mouth. 

His hand tightened around his head and the rhythmic milking noises of his self-made pleasure filled the tiny shower like a perpetual echo. He began to fuck his grip, rutting wildly into his palm, coating his callused skin in precome. He was dripping from the shower, but nothing was slipperier than his wet pleasure. It made his cock slide even faster through his huge hand, helping his head burrow itself into his fingers. 

John wanted it to be real. He dreamt, with his eyes squeezed shut, of the way her legs would part for him, spread like the petals of a flower, soft and pliant like a little, pink rose. As he jerked his hand across his pulsing head, he imagined what it would be like to rub himself amongst her delicate folds. He almost came from the thought, shuddering, catching himself against the wall, whimpering like he was pressing into a bruise. 

A little faster. A little more friction. He grunted, unable to hold his voice inside of him, desperate and feral. 

Her eyes, gleaming and beautiful, looking up at him, calling his name. 

And that was enough to do it. He came, crying out for her…

“Oh, fuck… baby…” 

“Captain?”

His blood went cold, and when he heard her voice, he froze, letting his come leak out of his balls, coating his hands and flooding over his knuckles. 

The curtain hissed as she pulled it away from the wall, her eyes traveling all over his body, appraising him and approving. She smiled, a little coy,

“Got room for one more?”

#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #captain john price #cod #john price #captain price #call of duty

[spicycinnabun]

“Steve, something is wrong with Christofern!” Eddie entered Steve’s room, cradling the potted plant in his arms.

He’d come home after work, ready to greet his bud-dy, but one look at him had made Eddie gasp. His leaves were shriveled up like sad little green raisins. Usually, they were puffed up like oversized Rice Krispies.

Christofern had been Robin’s, originally. It had been in a very sorry state on her windowsill before she’d left for college—a lot worse than it looked now, under Eddie’s care, thank you—and she’d told him, “I honestly can’t stand the thing. You keep it. It sheds worse than my aunt’s Great Pyrenees, and I’m tired of vacuuming. Just don’t throw it out, or Steve might murder you.”

And that had been that.

Christofern didn’t look like a typical house plant. He wasn’t a fern, which Steve kept reminding him. Steve was more practical. He didn’t give his plants names but called them by their designated labels.

Christofern was a Donkey’s Tail, or sedum morganianum, part of the succulent family. That term meant absolutely nothing to Eddie unless it was referring to a big bowl of pasta—he had no idea there was a whole plant category called delicious.

“But maybe he wants to be a fern, Steven,” he’d argued. “Ever thought of that? He doesn’t have to be a succulent just because he was assigned so at birth.”

“You’re fucking ridiculous,” had been Steve’s reply.

At first, Eddie had enlisted Steve’s help purely because he’d wanted his attention, and talking about plants was an easy as hell way to get Steve’s attention. Steve was a very passionate plant dad. But later, Eddie grew to love Christofern, and the trials and tribulations of learning how to care for him were almost like raising his own child.

Christofern had not just one but seven long, thickly spiked green tails. Seven tails. He reminded Eddie of a mutated dragon. He was adorable but occasionally grumpy and high-maintenance, like a certain someone Eddie knew. (Perhaps Christofern was more of a prince than a dragon—a dragon prince?)

If he didn’t get enough sunlight, his leaves shed, and he wilted. If he wasn’t rotated daily, he got yellow and sunburnt. And if he didn’t get enough water…

“I swear I watered him... uh, recently.” When had Eddie last watered him? Not the day before, but maybe Wednesday? Or had it been Tuesday? Shit. Eddie pouted. “I just gave him a drink now, anyway. It’s not too late, is it, Doctor Steve?”

He clasped his hands and watched Steve’s attentive eyes rove over his plant, waiting for the diagnosis.

“Eddie, how could you neglect Christofern like this? I should call Plant Protective Services.” Steve grabbed his hand, startling Eddie and his overactive heartbeat.

He took Eddie’s index finger and pushed it into Christofern’s soil right down to his second knuckle. It felt inappropriate. Eddie made a noise, appalled. “Steven, why are you making me violate Christofern?”

Steve ignored him. “What do you feel? The soil is soaked down there, isn’t it?”

Eddie wiggled his finger. It felt goopy. “Yes,” he admitted.

“You’ve overwatered it,” Steve chastised. “Now, the leaves might rot instead of rehydrating themselves. You’ve got to make sure you don’t drown it. Christofern only needs a moderate amount of water every two weeks, okay?”

“Okay,” Eddie said meekly. “I’m sorry, Christofern.”

Steve pulled his finger out of the soil and gave him a look bordering on amusement. “Leave him with me for a few days, and I’ll get him back to where he should be.”

“Thank you, Doctor Steve. How can I ever repay you?” Eddie imagined repaying Steve with his mouth, his tongue, his hands (after he washed the soil off)…

“You can clean the bathroom,” Steve said.

Eddie’s fantasy shattered. He whined. “Does it have to be that?”

“Yup.”

“Damn it, Steve, just make me suck your dick next time,” Eddie grumbled on his way out.

He missed the way Steve’s jaw dropped.

#fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie au #roommate au #steddie fic #plant dad steve harrington #crack fic #christofern is their love fern #eddie won’t let it die #🪴

[thisblogisaboutabook]

The cycle of life

Azriel x Reader

Fae cycles suck, thank the mother for your attentive mate who is there to provide you with all of the smut and fluff you desire.

warnings: smut, language, self-esteem and body image struggles, anxiety, slight breeding kink

She didn’t know when the self-loathing crept in - although it was always the first sign. The week had been busy, she’d poured herself into her work. Being a bookkeeper for such a wealthy court was… tiring to say the least. It was fulfilling work, especially when it came to the Court of Dreams. Balancing ledgers and creating budgets for various charitable endeavors was a duty she was proud to take part in. The High Lord and Lady’s efforts in keeping their court thriving was admirable. Most would find the work mundane, and she supposed it could be, but accounting always felt like a puzzle to her - using her brain to solve problems and contribute to the advancement of the Night Court was rewarding.

She wasn’t perfect though, despite that desperate desire within herself to be. She’d push, and push, and push herself completely overlooking all the good she did and absolutely berating herself internally when the occasional mistake occurred.

Azriel was her number one supporter. She’d always imagined him to be better suited for the likes of a fellow warrior such as Mor or a Valkyrie like Gwyn. Perhaps even someone soft and lovely like Elain, a glowing beacon to come home to. Y/N had told Azriel as much when he began pursuing her.

“Why me?” She’d wonder to herself as she assessed her figure in the mirror - overlooking the enticing feminine curves that all but screamed “squeeze me, grip me, take me”, the way her plush lips bowed into a perfectly kissable pout, how her radiant skin that nearly glowed rendered her ethereal. She only saw imperfections. Not to mention that she wasn’t graceful or stealthy, she couldn’t cook or keep plants alive to save her damned life, and she had a tendency to get stuck inside her mind.

Truthfully this week was more than busy, it was hard. She’d pushed herself to meet deadlines that she’d gotten behind on due to an influx in workload. She’d made a few mistakes that nobody had issue with - except herself. Nuala and Cerridwen were taking well-deserved time off, leaving the essential household tasks on the back burner. Between working endless hours, Azriel being gone on a mission, and a flare up of the anxiety that she’d put so much effort into working through over the years - she was exhausted.

Physically her muscles ached, stomach cramped, and her head pounded as the all-too-familiar symptoms of her impending semi-annual cycle took root. Her mind and spirit were utterly fatigued from the busy week, the flare up of anxiety, and the overall stress of life. She was desperate for Azriel to return from his mission soon.

It was around 9PM when she coerced herself into wrapping up work on Friday night, she spent three hours afterward tending to the house and catching up on neglected tasks from the week, too tired to even bathe as she crawled into bed - sleep claiming her immediately.

She awoke the next day to a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Hello beautiful.” Azriel whispered against her skin, pulling back to allow those intense hazel eyes a chance to examine her. Her eyelids fluttered and brows furrowed as she let out an exhausted groan, “baby…” a small smile lifted the corners of her mouth as she reached toward him in a needy manner that made his heart ache. He hated leaving her for missions though she always understood and supported him. He leaned down, wrapping his arms around her body, letting his warmth seep into her bones as she melted into his embrace.

Azriel noticed the flinch she made as the sun shone through the window into their room, quickly flaring his wings to block it from view until her eyes adjusted. “What’s wrong, love?” He whispered, though he already had an idea. The heat of his breath against her ear sent chills through her, prompting her to give a quick nip to his neck before kissing it.

Gods, she’d missed him.

“Nothing baby.” before he could call her on her lie she continued, “what time is it?”

“Well, you missed breakfast.” He smirked.

“Ugh… how did I sleep in so late?” She sat up, rubbing her tired eyes.

Azriel shrugged “Your body must have needed it.”

“Says you.” She scoffed. “You were off all week doing physically demanding work and busting your ass for this court… while I sat on mine balancing ledgers.”

“Y/N…” he spoke, his low voice barely more than a warning growl. “We’re not going to do that. You are allowed to feel tired, allowed to let your body rest. Your work is important.”

She sighed, knowing better than to press on. She knew to pick her battles and that this one was not one she would win.

“Fine.” Y/N shrugged, eyeing a paper bag on the bedside table. “What did you bring me? Please tell me it’s something with chocolate.”

Azriel’s lips curled up into a grin that she’d never tire of seeing, handing over the bag. “See for yourself, darling.”

———

Azriel knew from the moment he stepped into the quiet house that she’d need extra love and attention today. His loving, caring, selfless mate who typically rose early - he swore the sun rose on her accord and not the other way around - was still sound asleep in bed.

He immediately exited the house before she could sense his presence and stopped by her favorite bakery along the Sidra. Chocolate croissants were a necessity in times like these. She’d need a pain relieving tonic, epsom salts and soothing oils, and a bouquet of flowers couldn’t hurt either.

He went ahead and picked up ingredients for a few quick meals and a new book she’d mentioned recently as well.

He had to laugh at the irony. His mate often questioned her worthiness of him. HIM. She couldn’t see what he saw. A passionate, intelligent female who cared for her mate, her court, and family more than anything. Always putting her own needs last but the first to volunteer when help was needed. The cauldron truly found his equal - someone who gave and gave but it was never enough. Someone who couldn’t see her own worth, her pure heart, her devastating beauty - while the rest of the world marveled at it.

She’d been the catalyst in his own self-acceptance. He’d spent centuries believing he wasn’t enough, that he was unworthy of a mate, of his position, of the power he was born with - just to meet this intelligent, radiant being who could bring an entire room to a halt and assume they were only seeing flaws. Not the beauty that could make even kings fall to their knees if she’d only ask. When the bond snapped, he decided then and there that he would show her just how worthy she was. In the decade they’d been mated, she finally started to see her worth, how precious she was to him, to those she graced with her presence. But life is complicated and triggers are inevitable, especially when it came to the flare of hormones that accompanied an impending cycle.

—————

The chocolate croissants were a win if the drawn-out contented sigh Y/N let out upon finishing her third one was any indication. He’d shared details of his mission as she indulged in the pastries and she gave him a few details of her week - frowning as she went into detail about the “mistakes” she’d made.

They were common mistakes that anyone would make, truthfully, some weren’t even her fault, but he listened as she let it out. He’d learned over the years that sometimes she just needed to get it off her chest and not advice. Simply hearing each other out had become a key element in the foundation of their relationship - when thoughts became too much - they were always listening ears for each other.

Once she’d gotten it off her chest she changed the subject by asking, “What do you want to do today?”

Azriel had a lot to do - but his mate took priority this weekend. He gave her a wicked grin, “I want nothing more than to waste away in this bed with you all day.”

“But?” She replied.

“But nothing.” He flicked her nose. “I want to spend the day in bed with my mate - is there something wrong with that?”

Azriel could see the war in her mind. Debating whether she deserved to take a day off, or should tend to other tasks. Before she could object he leaned in, lips capturing hers in a deep, loving kiss. She immediately opened for him, his tongue lazily tangling with hers. “Fine” she murmured.

“That’s my girl.” He cooed before returning to claiming her mouth, the shell of her ears, her neck.

“Mmm” she purred into his kiss while he palmed at her breast through her silken cobalt night gown. Her swollen breasts immediately peaking beneath his touch.

“So responsive” his low voice growled into her neck, sending fire straight through her, igniting her core. “Is that beautiful pussy as ready for me as these are?” He asked, tweaking a nipple through her gown.

The responding moan told him more than enough as he hitched the hem of her nightgown up to her waist, exposing the dripping cunt practically begging for him underneath. His eyes rolled back at the intoxicating scent of arousal drifting up into his nose. “Holy shit, Y/N.” he groaned, clearly pleased with the sight.

He ran a finger through her slick core, adding a teasingly light amount of pressure to her clit but before he could insert a finger she moaned “No Az, I can’t wait. Please.”

“You don’t want my fingers?” He teased, slipping one inside of her. Mother, she was absolutely soaked.

“Az…Fuck. No. Please.” She pleaded. Reaching down to palm the hardened length beneath his sweatpants. “I need that inside of me. Now”

Typically he would reprimand her for being so demanding, robbing him of his playtime with her sweet, dripping sex. But the desperation in her voice left him desperate to oblige her.

“Since you asked nicely.” He replied, to which she frantically helped him out of his pants.

Before she could reconsider taking more fingers, he thrusted his length into her. Hard. Every thick, aching inch of him, stretching and filling her completely.

“Like that?” He asked as her moans filled the room.

“Yes. Yes, Az.”

“Fuck.” She cried out. “Just. Like. That.” Each word coming out individually timed to the thrusts of his cock.

There was no way he was going to last long at this pace, especially after being away for a week. “Not gonna last long like this. Fuck!” He ground out.

She grit her teeth as his thrusts became harder, more erratic. “Then fill me, Az. Need your cum.”

Slipping a hand between them, he pressed his thumb to her clit, moving it in that perfected motion he’d finessed over the years as he diligently studied her body, a scholar whose sole discipline laid in pleasuring his mate. Locking his eyes with her, he gently commanded “Cum with me baby.”

With that they both let go. Their releases filling the room like a song. A melody Azriel would never tire of, one he replayed in his mind somehow far too often, yet never enough during his time away.

Azriel stayed inside of her until their breaths settled, evening out into sync with eachother. He reveled in the warmth of her. His perfect mate - physically, emotionally, spiritually. He’d never take this for granted.

Finally he pulled out of her in one long sweep, she looked down to admire the still considerable length of him even when partially softened. Her stomach dropped to see blood mixed in with their combined releases.

“Az, oh, I’m so s-” She started but he cut her off.

“Baby. It’s just a little blood.”

She almost looked ashamed. “I know but- I’m embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed?” He puzzled. “It’s completely natural. Do you really think blood bothers me? Come on now beautiful, we’ve had sex during your cycle before. Why shy away now?”

“I just didn’t expect the bleeding to have started already. It explains why I’ve felt so lethargic, I suppose.”

Azriel went to get a warm cloth from the adjoined washroom, returning to wipe her. Her cheeks flushed at the intimate action.

“Stop overthinking it. Besides, we’re mates.” He smiled, a soft look overtaking his eyes. “If you still want to have children with me someday, your cycle is kind of an essential step of the process.”

Y/N flushed at the comment. The thought of carrying his babies was something she’d dreamed about for years now. Thank the gods for her distant Illyrian ancestry and the genes that blessed her with curvy hips capable of birthing winged babes.

“You know, with my cycle returning… we could always start trying? If we stopped taking our tonics now - it should be out of our system in time for ovulation. Rhys has offered recently to let me bring on an assistant book keeper, which would be excellent timing.”

Azriel’s heart fluttered at the thought of it. His mate round and glowing as she carried their baby, a babe that would know so much more love than he ever had as a child. Something so pure and beautiful that could come from the love between he and his mate. They’d talked about it for years now, a dream of theirs. He had to quickly blink away the silver lining his eyes at the gift she was offering him, his selfless mate in all her infinite love. There was no way he could verbally reply in the moment without choking up so he sent waves of adoration, joy, and gratitude down the bond.

She sent every bit of love right back to him, propping up on her elbows to capture his lips in a promising kiss.

———-

After they came to a decision, Azriel carried Y/N to the bathing room where a hot bath full of the oils and epsom salts he’d picked up that morning were waiting. She nearly cried at the relief of the welcoming heat that greeted her.

Before she could object, Azriel quickly stepped out to change the sheets, promptly returning to slide into the bath tub behind her. He washed her hair, massaging her scalp to which she nearly purred like a cat. He carefully washed her entire body massaging her back, thighs, calves, shoulders, and breasts in the process. By the time he was done tending to her, she’d nearly fallen asleep.

Ever the caretaker, she tried to wash him in return but he insisted that this was about her - passing her a rolled up towel to place behind her neck while she relaxed, letting the oils from the bath soak into her skin as he lathered himself. He got out first, toweling himself off before lifting her out of the tub and drying her off with a heated towel.

Though she insisted she could do it herself, Azriel wasn’t having it. This was his day to care for his mate so he helped her into cloth lined linens and selfishly left her topless, slipping her underneath the fresh blankets.

He assured her he’d be right back slipping out to the kitchen to heat up her favorite gnocchi soup and fetch a tray he’d prepared with her pain relieving tonic, bouquet of flowers, and more chocolate.

It didn’t take much to bring his mate joy - the genuine gratitude she’d send down the bond at even the smallest gestures was never lost on him. Perhaps it was self-serving but he couldn’t resist surprising her, coveting each warm smile she’d give him as if he’d never feel warmth again.

He prayed their future babes had her smile, her eyes, any of her features, truly. But most of all, her heart - maybe then, beating within the most precious gift the mother could offer them, she’d finally see just how beautiful she really was.

————

He had to beg and plead like a mad male but finally she agreed to spend the entire weekend in bed with him. Who knew that he, the one who was typically the workaholic, would be the one to grovel at his mates feet begging her to take a break.

Fortunately, she was not immune to his charms and obliged him. At one point, she snuck out of bed in an attempt to accomplish a few tasks around the house before her cramps humbled her. Azriel was promptly startled awake from the nap he’d drifted off to as she loudly exclaimed from down the hall, “Fuck it. Back to bed.”

They spent the rest of the weekend making love, whispering of their dreams for the future, indulging in sweets, and reveling in each others touch with no shortage of laughter and kissing in between.

——————————

A/n: So I’ve totally been under the weather this weekend with no motivation to write but as I laid in bed with my own partner tending to me with whatever I needed, I couldn’t resist writing this. I intended it to be a Drabble but the words just kept flowing. I stan fluffy Az. Anyway, thanks for reading!

For those of you waiting on new parts to my current fics - I promise they’re coming along and will be out soon! xo ♥️

#sarah j maas #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #a court of frost and starlight #azriel #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #acotar smut #acotar fluff #sickfic #shadowsinger #shadowsinger smut #shadowsinger x reader #acotar oneshot #fluff and smut #acotar fluff and smut

[theblueseassoul]

“Quiet”

So’lek x Na’vi!reader

GN reader. No use of Y/N. Read in the second person

Translations:

Yawne - beloved / loved one

Ma’yawntu - my beloved / my loved one

Nìhona - endearingly sweet

It was a calm day, a rare occasion. You were usually always busy, taking down RDA facilities, hunting, helping out the Aranahe hometree, helping the humans and na’vi back at resistance base. You never got a moment of peace and perhaps it helped because you had no idea what to do with yourself now that no one was asking for you. You had first gone to Priya, who always had something to ask or an idea to share, however the purple haired woman smiled sweetly and shook her head “Nothing today! Go and relax!” and dismissed you. You visited a few more people, along with your siblings who had woken up from the cryo sleep with you. You asked Nor if he wanted to practice his bow and arrow skills with you, however he shrugged and told you “I have to leave soon yawne.” You then asked Teylan, who usually asked you to gather more human computer bits or to teach him. Teylan placed a hand on your arm briefly, “Why don’t you relax today? You’re always working.” You got the same from Ri’nela.

At the end, you’d given up, and left HQ. You greeted your Ikran, coo’ing her name “Hello, my gorgeous.” You adored your ikran, and she felt the same. You two were bonded for life, after all. When she’d chosen you, you felt nothing but lucky. You pet her head, scratching all the right places before pressing a swift kiss to the heart on her nose. It was your favorite part of her pattern, the fact she had a little heart, it was almost irresistible to place a kiss there. “Sarentu.” A familiar voice called, making you turn. You were face to face with So’lek, and you couldn’t help but smile slightly. You two had become close after he’d saved you from Mercer. He started to come with you on hunts and missions more often. Once he told you that you should experience the forest yourself, the fails and the successes. To realize the dangers. However now he came with you whenever he could, it was nice but you were unsure why he did. Perhaps he thought you were ready, comfortable in the forest.

“I have a name.” You told him with a chuckle. He just smirked, and crossed his arms as he looked at your Ikran, and then you once more. “You look bored.” He ignored your previous statement and stepped closer. You nodded, sighing as you turned back to your Ikran as she nuzzled her nose into your hand “No one has anything for me. I am tempted to ask the Aranahe, but I have a feeling they won’t have anything either. Today feels…” you paused, thinking of the right word to use. So’lek simply listened, waiting for you to keep speaking, observing you with his diligent eyes. You finally settled on a word, “quiet.”

So’lek hummed in response “it’s good to have.. quiet days. You work yourself down to the bone. Though it’s admirable,” he offered a gentle smile before continuing “you should remember to take care of yourself.” You shrugged once more and returned your gaze to your Ikran, who was nudging at the pack against your waist filled with treats for them. It drew out a soft chuckle and you pulled out a smaller bag, and let her eat the sticky sweet honey combs from it. He stood in silence with you, and you spoke after your Ikran had finished her small treat “I just don’t know what to do with myself. I’m always busy, this feels wrong.” You laughed at yourself airily and looked over at So’lek.

“I have something to show you.” So’lek suddenly said, after a moment of pondering. You furrowed your brows in confusion but nodded, following him as he walked away. He lead you through the meadow and river next to HQ, climbed part of the mountain with you and settled at the top of it. The grass moved like water, the multicolored plants beautiful in day just as they are in night. They sang to you words of home, serenity. Peace. So’lek looked at you, watched your expression shift and change into something soft, and sweet. He would never say aloud that this was one of his favorite expressions of yours. The only one to know that would be him, and him alone.

He gently guided you to sit down underneath the singular tree near you, it’s branches swaying with the wind as if in a never ending dance. As you lived on Pandora you learned how to pay attention to the small things in nature. Just as you noticed So’lek had scooted closer to you as he spoke “sit with me here for a while. Admire everything around you. It’s good for your health, or so the humans say.” You chuckled with him, and nodded as you pulled your legs into a loose criss cross style. So’lek stretched his legs out in-front of him and leaned in slightly closer to you, it almost made you want to lean into him completely. You almost did, but you had talked yourself out of it anyways.

You admired the world with him. You took note of the changing colors across the plane, listened to the sound of the waterfall crashing below you. Ikran and other animals flew through the sky with such grace you almost wished you could do so, perhaps you would see all there was to see if you could fly. Being on the ground wasn’t so bad though you thought, as he shifted closer, arm resting closer, his fingertips ghosting yours. Most silences felt awkward, needed to be filled but this one left you feeling content. Silence was alright with certain company, you supposed while you looked over at So’lek. His eyes met yours and they widened slightly in surprise, as if you’d caught him staring. And you felt like you had. It made your cheeks flare with heat.

“Do you know how to make a crown?” You suddenly asked, blurted out as you looked down at the wolf flowers dancing against your legs. He raised a brow in question “hm?” You plucked a flower from the soil and said “a flower crown. My sister taught me.” He seemed interested, leaning in, his chin hovering just above your shoulder and so close to you that you could hear his breathing. Soft and controlled. You continued “Aha'ri. She’d like it here. She taught me how to braid my own queue too, because I had so much trouble doing it alone.” He watched your hands carefully weave together stems of the flowers and some grass too into a slow but sure crown. He listened to you ramble, and he himself spoke of his own stories, resting his head against your shoulder and you subconsciously leaned into him, head against his. This went on for a while, sometimes it would be quiet, and other times he would ask you questions or you would ask him some of your own.

You would call this one of your favorite memories, some day. Probably tomorrow. You smiled softly and shifted, making him lean away, and you almost immediately missed the warmth. “Here,” you placed it atop his head, and it almost fit perfectly. Perhaps a little too small but it wasn’t too noticeable, you did well. Your chest welled with warmth and something bubbly as a smile spread across his lips, his hand going to the crown, and very hesitantly to your face. You leaned into it, had to, or he would’ve stopped. Then he did something unexpected but.. he always did.

So’lek leaned in, and pressed a sweet kiss to the flat of your nose, and leaned his forehead against yours in silence before he murmured “thank you, nìhona.” You giggled softly at the name. “Nìhona?” You asked. He smiled at your amusement and nodded against your forehead, his hand moving to rest against your nape “it suits you. You are sweet in nature, and it’s..” he paused. A pause that made the entire world stop spinning, the wind even held its breath as it listened in, the sounds of the water and bugs and animals quieted as if to make it easier to hear the words he spoke for you, for you to hear, and only you.

“One of my many favorite traits of yours.” He breathed. You rested your hand on the back of his neck as he was doing to yours, and spoke, soft enough for him to hear “you have so many that are my favorite that it’s hard to list them all.” He laughed. You laughed. His hand tightened only slightly as if to keep you there for a while longer but he didn’t need to. You wanted to stay there forever. “Quiet days aren’t so bad, are they ma’yawntu?” He spoke with a certain fondness in his voice that it made your heart skip a beat. Or three.

You shook your head, eyes shifting to his lips for just a moment, wondering what it would be like to press yours there. “No. Not too bad.” You murmured, “but I suppose the company helps.” He hummed in amusement and he must’ve seen where your eyes strayed because at some point, you two had shared a kiss. He tasted sweet, like the berries you so often found him eating. The kiss was soft and genuine, it was time stopping and innocent. The first of what you hoped would be many. When you pulled away he couldn’t help but leave one last quick peck against your lips before letting you go. Not too far, his hand still gently holding you close. “Thank you.” So’lek muttered.

“For what, the crown, or the kiss?” You joked and he rolled his eyes in feign annoyance before letting you go. You laughed together and you would wonder if you would have more quiet days like these. You hoped.

#avatar #avatar frontiers of pandora #x reader #so’lek x reader #so’lek

[wingedcat13]

Synovus: Siren Call (2)

[Synoverse? In the year of our lord 2023? It's more likely than you think! This one is in third person, set after Villains Never Retire. No idea what I’m talking about? Check out the first of the Synovus works here! I've still yet to do it as of posting, but both episodes of Siren Call will be on Ao3 here. Happy reading!]

A week after first arriving at her parents’ house, Minerva made the journey back to her own.

It wasn’t terribly far - a half-hour drive with no traffic, maybe - from where her parents now lived, still placed near to the coast. It wasn’t actually a ‘house’ either, more of a condo built in a line to save costs. It would’ve been cheaper to live further inland, but…

She’d had enough of that.

Besides, the place wasn’t actually hers. When she’d divorced Albion and come back to the coast, she’d also quit her job. With no contacts, no friends, and no savings that weren’t tied up in litigation, she would’ve had nowhere to go in her civilian identity. She also wasn’t sure if she was going to have to deal with a super-powered ex husband knocking at all hours, which was something most renters disapproved of, as a rule.

But where Minerva had no one, Athena had a lifeline. When she and Legionnaire had done volunteer work in the past, she’d always felt it was just part of her duty. An obligation that came with having superpowers. Sometimes you put the costume on to hit something, and sometimes you put the costume on to build something. Since neither of them had been dependent on their hero identity 24/7, they’d always declined any offers of compensation.

But that didn’t mean they’d been forgotten. Shepherd Flight was a volunteer group who specialized in organizing super powered individuals for rescue and relief operations - they mostly focused on the initial crisis, but weren’t afraid of working to help rebuild things too. Minerva had gone through floodwaters and hurricanes under their direction, and also used her strength to help hold up beams for building shelters. One of her favorite memories was helping plant a garden in a refugee camp.

Shepherd Flight was also known for its discretion. Several capes worked exclusively for them, staying out of hero or villain business in the traditional sense. Some of them maintained a separation between the mask and the civilian, but others didn’t.

So Minerva had gone to them, intending to ask if she could rest on a couch in their headquarters or something while she figured out her next move. Instead, a man named ‘Sun Dog’ had checked their records, asked her a few questions, and then handed her the keys to an address. Apparently, Shepherd Flight also aided ‘capes in distress.’

Minerva had scowled, but couldn’t really argue the point.

She’d looked into it since - the space they’d given her was most frequently used for helping move displaced persons who needed to travel, or temporary housing for other members of Shepherd Flight who needed a place unaffiliated with any identity. One of the questions she’d been asked was how she felt about potentially having a house full of strange guests on little-to-no notice. Minerva had grown up dealing with the Pacific Northwest’s forest fires, and had told Sun Dog she knew exactly how fast they could go. If refugees needed a place to stay, she’d gladly vacate.

So far, that hadn’t happened, though Sun Dog had also told her that someone would stop by occasionally with groceries, to keep the place stocked. And to check in on her.

She probably should’ve told them she was fine when she was whisked off to a supervillain’s private island. She hadn’t.

So she wasn’t surprised, per se, to open the door and see a stranger in the kitchen. Startled, perhaps. But neither of them attacked each other, so that was a good start.

“Uhm.” Said the person in the kitchen, holding a spoon awkwardly poised between their mouth and a pudding cup.

“Wrong door.” Minerva said automatically, holding the keys that had unlocked the front door and the guard mechanism.

“Is it?” The stranger asked hesitantly.

Minerva sighed, “No. I… lived here for a bit. As a… guest.”

“Oh!” The stranger lit up with a smile - and a touch of phantom flame that Minerva watched cautiously. “You must be the one who went missing! Yeah, they told me you might come back - hey, I’m Wi-Fire, by the way.”

They moved forward to offer a hand, slowing their approach when Minerva instinctively leaned away. Still, it wasn’t like she needed both hands to hold her bag, and once upon a time she’d been… better, if not exactly ‘good’ at this. So she took the offered hand, clasping it rather than shaking.

“Athena.” She returned, the introduction automatic. Instead of giving herself time to think about whether that was the right name to give, she forced herself onwards, remembering there were other details she was supposed to give on greeting. “She/Her.”

Wi-Fire’s grin broadened, and they bounced a little in place. “They/them!” They returned, even more cheerfully than before. “It’s the third bedroom that’s yours, right? I haven’t touched it, since he said you might come back, but I’ve only been here for about a week. That reminds me - have you called him yet? Sun Dog? He’s super worried about you, pun unintended.”

Minerva was, abruptly, reminded of Alexandria. “… No, I haven’t called him yet. I was just here to-“

She paused. What was she here to do? Spend a few hours staring at a wall, unobserved? Get the rest of her things and go? It wasn’t exactly much, just a few extra changes of clothes, a few books. She did want to make sure the space she’d used was clean, but given how little time she’d spent here, that shouldn’t take more than an hour. Two, if she stopped to do laundry.

Minerva had paused for too long. Wi-Fire just nodded, sympathetic. “Yeah, I feel that. I’m up in the attic - the other rooms are still empty, there’s nothing wrong with them or anything, I just.” They cut off, simply ending the sentence, as though a signal had been lost between one word and the next. They shrugged.

“Yeah.” Minerva echoed, thinking of how she’d chosen the room with the best view of the ocean, even if it was just a sliver.

Wi-Fire winces, “Crap. Sorry. Forgot we’re not supposed to really, like. Fraternize. I didn’t see anything?” Their last sentence is hopeful, as though an offering they want Minerva to take.

“It’s fine.” She assures them, readjusting her grip on her bag. “If you’ve seen me, you can pass on to Sun Dog that I’m fine, right?”

For a heartbeat, she thinks she’s pulled it off, and she’ll be able to just get her things and leave. But Wi-Fire just laughs.

“I mean, sure - but you’ll have to scram if you wanna avoid him.” They scrape at the bottom of the pudding cup. “He’ll be here in like. Twenty minutes?”

—-

Minerva is not done packing in twenty minutes. Actually, she’s not done in fifteen, which is when Sun Dog actually arrives. She can hear him greeting Wi-Fire from where she’s working upstairs, meticulously folding towels to be stored in the bathroom before she leaves.

Minerva snaps the final towel free of wrinkles, places it on the pile, and goes to meet him. Better she doesn’t get cornered.

Sun Dog and Wi-Fire aren’t talking, when Minerva arrives. No, that makes it sound like they’re in a stand off, and really, it’s more that they don’t need to be. Minerva catches the end of a fistbump-into-a-shoulder check, and an exchange of smiles, before Sun Dog’s eyes flick up and see her on the stairs.

“Ah!” In civilian clothing, Sun Dog looks like a Bay Area hobbyist come north. His reaction to seeing her is surprise, but also something positive. Joy? Excitement? Delight? “M-“

“Athena!” Wi-Fire cuts in, overriding Sun Dog with their own exclamation, and avoiding accidentally learning Minerva’s real name. Not that it matters, anymore.

Minerva’s spine could be used as a flagpole. “Sun Dog.” She replies, voice cool, as though their excitement at seeing her had been an embarrassment rather than an open welcome. It isn’t on purpose. “Wi-Fire.”

She doesn’t apologize for interrupting, or claim she didn’t mean to, because there’d be no point. Instead, Minerva meets Sun Dog’s gaze, “I’m cleaning up after myself, then I’ll be out of your way.”

“You don’t have to do that-“ Sun Dog starts to assure her, then backtracks. Minerva must have looked offended. “- but we’re grateful that you’d take the time.”

He glances at Wi-Fire, who gets the hint. They give Minerva a double thumbs-up, and another near maniacal grin, and then scamper off. Minerva is distracted, briefly, by the mental image of a young Synovus, gifted with fire instead of shadows.

Terrifying.

Still, thinking of the one problem won’t rid her of the other. Minerva descends the rest of the stairs to stand even with Sun Dog, her arms folded. Her expression must’ve shown something (or maybe Sun Dog just gauged the depths of the bags under her eyes) because instead of saying anything else, Sun Dog just tilts his head towards the door.

“How about a walk?”

—-

With the ocean not far, there was plenty of beach to walk along. It was too late in the season to hope for much sun, but again, it didn’t really bother Minerva. And, with both of them in nondescript windbreakers, they seemed no more suspicious than anyone else ever did.

She wished she didn’t feel like she needed to worry about being suspicious.

They walked in silence for a while, just the sound of sand crunching beneath boots, and the ever present roar of the ocean’s movements. The wind blew in from off the coast, sharp and cold. It whipped her hair around her face, but she mostly ignored it.

Eventually, Sun Dog broke the silence. “Did you know I didn’t actually intend to go by ‘Sun Dog’?”

Minerva glanced around, as though the wind and general absence of other people wasn’t enough to ensure they weren’t overheard. Sun Dog waited.

“Then why did you?”

“Media.” He answered simply. “I wanted to name myself Parhelion. Its the… let’s call it scientific word for a Sun Dog phenomena. They thought one had a better ring to it.”

“So you’re a scientist.” Minerva kicked lightly at the sand on her next step.

“Amateur, sure. But I don’t mind admitting that the name scared the hell out of me at first.”

Minerva hesitated, then nodded. “Yes. I can understand why.”

Sun Dog. In a world still recovering from the sudden disappearance of Sunhallow, any sun imagery was suddenly circumspect. It could be viewed in a hundred different lights, none of them favorable.

“I almost gave up being a hero entirely.” Sun Dog confided. “I was too scared that one day someone would show up, and tell me I was encroaching on their brand.”

Humor, but not enough to hide that neither of them speak his name. Minerva knows he’s dead - she’s seen the grave, spoken to his killer. But there is the thought that lingers. Just in case.

“Why didn’t you?” Minerva asked, staring forward at the tree line.

“Letters. One in particular, that told me he’d never be dead so long as we let him hold that much power over something so ubiquitous as the sun. They said they knew how much it must cost me, but that the world needed people like me to rebuild it, to heal over the scars.”

“And was that one from the Dalai Lama or the President.” Her voice wasn’t bitter so much as it was… dry. Humor. She’s learning how to use it again.

Sun Dog squinted into the wind. “Could’ve been either, I suppose. It was signed, but with a moniker. Eclipse.”

He glanced at her, shrugged. “I’ve never known anyone to go by that name.”

Minerva was silent for a step. Two. Then, “No. Neither have I.”

—-

They wind up stopping at a picnic table tucked just under the tree line, out of the worst of the wind. It’s one of those weather-worn gray contraptions, the kind someone placed years ago and forgot, leaving it for hikers or curious children.

They’ve talked about a few things, here and there. Sun Dog keeps offering small bits of himself, trying to draw Minerva out again, and slowly, she becomes part of the conversation. Childhood pets. Obnoxious commercial jingles that stick even after the company and product are long gone. Nothing pressing. Nothing political.

But after they’d spent a few minutes in a comfortable silence, a natural lull in the conversation, Sun Dog has pulled a deck of cards out of his pocket.

“Hope you’re not looking for poker.” Minerva said with barely a glance. “I don’t have anything to bet.”

Sun Dog laughed, “These aren’t those kind of cards. But if you’re willing, I’d like to do a reading for you. Tarot.”

“Wait.” Minerva raised her brows, leaning back slightly. “You don’t actually believe in those, do you?”

She realized, approximately half a second too late to stop herself, how offensive that likely sounded. Luckily, Sun Dog laughed again.

“You could use a tank as a baseball bat.” He said, corners of his eyes crinkled in a smile. “And have dealt with clairvoyants, shape-shifters, literal magic users - but ‘some cards’ is where you draw the line?”

Minerva ducked her head, submitting to the teasing. “Alright, you have a point. I don’t really know how they work, though.” “You don’t need to.” Sun Dog assured her. “You just need to shuffle and draw the cards. Three of them, face down, left to right. We’ll go over what they mean one by one.”

She felt, suddenly, unaccountably nervous. She managed a murmured thanks as Sun Dog handed her the deck, no longer stiff from newness, but not quite well-worn either. For a moment, she simply spread the cards in her hands, sliding them with her thumb, and studying the backs. They were larger than she remembered most playing cards being. She hoped she remembered how to shuffle correctly.

A few cuts of the deck, and a reassurance from Sun Dog that it was alright to bend them, and Minerva fanned the cards apart, couching them back together into a bridge. Another few cuts, another bridge. And the third time, to keep them balanced.

“Three off the top?” She asked. Sun Dog shrugged, “If that’s what speaks to you.” He laughed again at Minerva’s displeased expression, but nodded encouragingly. “Go on. Three cards, face down. That’s all.”

Minerva sighed. She pulled the card from the top, one from the bottom, and - fanning the cards again - slipped one from the middle at random, laying them each face down on the table in front of her.

“Good.” Sun Dog said encouragingly, accepting the rest of the deck back. “So, this is something of a ‘past, present, future’ spread. Go ahead and flip the first card.”

Minerva rolled her eyes, and moved to place her hand on it - then paused. This trepidation was unlike her. She had no reason to be nervous, because this was a pre-generated deck of cards. It held no personalized information, and could not reveal anything about her of substance, because it was a randomized card. 

That argument wasn’t holding up the way it normally would’ve. Some part of her resolve crumbled.

Well. She reasoned, If it’s in the past, I’ve already survived it once. I can do it again.

That seemed to do the trick. She flipped the card over, and was greeted with the image of someone in what she placed as quintessential peasant’s garb… carrying a bundle of sticks? The roman numeral for ten was placed above it, and the individual’s face couldn’t be seen, buried in the bundle they were carrying as they walked away from the viewer.

“The ten of wands.” Sun Dog identified. “Wands are associated with fire. They tend to be about passion, strengths, and willpower. The ten of wands in particular is a representation of burden and responsibility. It is good to be depended on - but not to be overworked.”

Minerva shifted, but said nothing. Sun Dog gave her a moment, then indicated the next card. “The next one, then?”

This one took little effort to turn - whether it was out of a desire to get it over with or simply because she’d shaken off whatever feeling she’d had earlier, Minerva didn’t know. This time, the card was upside down, and she moved to straighten it.

“No -” Sun Dog stopped her, “I mean, if you want to flip it so you can look at it, you can, but drawing them upside down actually means something. ‘Reversed’ cards invert or change the meaning.”

Minerva pursed her lips, flipping the card briefly to get a better look at it. A figure visible only from the waist up, in what appeared to be mail and plate armor. A star spangled canopy offered protection from the yellow sky, and the numeral for seven that floated just above it. The figure had a staff in one hand, and what looked like two sphinxes in front of it - the left black, the white right, each with a different expression.

“The Chariot.” She read, flicking the card back over to be upside down again.

“Another willpower card.” Sun Dog commented. “The Chariot is triumphant - you see how the sphynxes are angled in opposite directions? They should go nowhere, but the driver manages to drive the chariot onwards. Nothing that they carry is a gift. Instead, they are rewards earned.”

“But it’s reversed,” Minerva said dryly, “Meaning… that I’m currently a freeloader?”

“Or that you feel that way.” Sun Dog countered. “The cards aren’t quite so literal as we might hope, sometimes. Go ahead and flip the third card.”

“Another upside down one.” Minerva remarked, considering the angel depicted on the card. “Sorry, reversed. Temperance.”  She snorted, placing the card on the table with the others, and then shoving her hands into her pockets.

“Ah, I love the Temperance card.” Sun Dog picked it up briefly, smiling at it, before he laid it back down. “It’s a card of transitions, that one. I - is something wrong?”

Minerva hadn’t been able to hide her flinch at that one. She scowled, more angry at herself than anything - but it seemed the last few days had scraped her raw, left her open and readable. And… she did trust Sun Dog. So she forced herself to clear her throat, and spoke quietly;

“I have a daughter.”

Sun Dog made a vaguely congratulatory noise, a positive sympathy for someone speaking of their loved ones. Minerva’s hands bunched in her pockets.

“I spent most of her life convinced she was my son.” She said quietly.

“Ah.” Sun Dog leaned back, head canted so he could look up for a moment, considering. Minerva knew there was a wealth of information in that, and how she’d presented it, and the connections he could even now be drawing. But she’d refused to run from this. So she sat still, and unwavering, and waited for the judgment she deserved.

“I don’t think it means that kind of transition.” Sun Dog said finally, looking back at her again. “Not in this context, though a gender transition is a common reading of the card. My congratulations to your daughter, by the way.”

Minerva let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Then it doesn’t….” She trailed off, mind unwilling to complete the sentence.

“Doesn’t what?”

“This is the future card, isn’t it?” She said quietly, rather than elaborate immediately. “And reversed, meaning an inverse of the meaning. So if it was about - her transition, and how I pertain to it, then… I would be a roadblock to it. I wouldn’t…” She trailed off again, but Sun Dog only waited.

“... get better.” She finished lamely.

“That you’re worried about it tells me how much you care,” Sun Dog said gently, placing one hand halfway across the table. He couldn’t take hers, given she still had them clenched in her pockets, but she recognized the gesture for what it was meant to be. “But no, I don’t think that’s what the card means in this context. Temperance is the balance between remaining practical, and our dreams. Grounded reality, versus the water of our dreams.”

“So I’m… losing that balance?”

Sun Dog hummed, uncertain, “You might lose that balance, that could be an outcome.” He acknowledged. “But take the cards as they’re important to you. Water is fairly important to you, right?”

Minerva only nodded.

“Then perhaps the reversal isn’t telling you that you’re going to lose your balance. Maybe it’s telling you not to worry so much about that balance - that temperance is not, in fact, what you need to do now.” Sun Dog raised his hands, “I’m no expert. But sometimes we really do need to let loose.”

Minerva stared at the card arrangement for several more minutes. Her mind picked up on patterns, even when she didn’t mean for it to, didn’t intend to read into it. The past, hiding her face from everyone in a mask, carrying a burden she thought she was obligated to take on. The present, lost, her rules turned on their head as surely as the chariot driver was. A canopy of stars, protective shadows against a sky of light… and a being that was neither male nor female, free, offering her the opportunity to move on. 

“I’m not taking advice from a deck of cards.” She heard herself say.

Sun Dog shrugged. “Then take it as advice from me. You see something in the cards - that’s what they’re for. Reflecting what you need to see, to be able to face it.”

Minerva let out a long breath, forcing herself to relax the tension that had settled into her shoulders and spine. She looked up, meeting Sun Dog’s gaze with her own.

“How much do you know about Synovus?”

---

[It's funny - I posted the first of Synovus's story over a year ago. I added onto it, here and there, but the draft to post this was started in... September of 2022? Yet, every day, I get a notification, either through Tumblr or Ao3, that someone has found Synovus, and expressed joy about it somehow. It's... remarkable. I love you all, and thank you for reading!]

#synoverse #synovus #siren call

[huramuna]

banshee's lament - chapter 7.

aemond targaryen x stark ofc minor jacaerys velaryon x stark ofc masterlist prev | next

wordcount: 2.5k

@huramuna-fics - follow & turn on notifications for just my fic postings! no taglists right now, sorry.

a/n: a short chapter, but very important! the next 3 after this will be very action packed! and then it is the end of act 1!

content: smut, angst, fluff, disabled ofc, aemond being delulu & obsessive, major canon divergence, ofc has a service direwolf, i'm taking canon rules and putting them in a blender and taking a shot, arranged marriage, graphic depictions of violence, my terrible, terrible combat writing, descriptions of injuries, allusions to suicide, talk of chronic pain and illness

story playlist

Shera had never rushed before so much in her life. She needed out. Out of Viserys’ room, out of the tunnels, out, out, out. As she pushed a stone backing, her knees skidded across the cobbled ground, skin ripping from them violently. Oh, how adept she’d become at injuring herself. She haphazardly wiped a few tears away.

The crisp night air whipped against her face before the smell changed– her other senses other than sight had become so keen since her loss of sight in her eye, so she was especially sensitive to even the most minute change in scents. She smelled the distinct aroma of fire– ashes to ashes, wafting along the breeze, mingling with a familiar smell of sandalwood and white cedar musk. 

A pair of polished black boots, now a bit dull in their pallor from soot, stood in front of her. 

“Lost, little banshee?” Aemond cooed. She could practically see the grin on his face, once again not of joy but something akin to self-assuredness and beastly callousness. 

“I told you…” she croaked, putting her now bloodied fingertips up to her throat, the pain reverberating through every word. “Don’t… call me that, nūmāzma zaldrīzes.” Mean dragon. She didn’t look up, or lift herself in any sort of way. Shera was all too aware she was not wearing her veil, nor her choker– and Aemond’s comments at the dinner (that he had still not apologized for, the cad) were festering in her mind, stinging and infecting like a plague. They hadn’t spoken since her almost ill-fated swan dive. He probably thought she was still suicidal. 

It was all too quick for her to register, her vision was still spinning, but he had picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, or perhaps a bale of hay. He didn’t say anything further as he began to walk down the hall, deeper into the Keep. 

Shera’s face went beet red as she sniffled, kicking her legs against him. “Put me down,” she growled, her voice raising more than it should, her tone becoming skewed and cracking. She resorted to trying to bite him then, her teeth fastening down on the leather jerkin he was wearing. It was so thick, that her attempt to snap her jaws upon his skin was hardly even registered to him.

“No.” he responded flatly, an arm fastened around her waist that was slung over his shoulder, his other hand coming up to swat her bottom. “Stop trying to bite me.”

“This is demeaning.” she hissed, now resulting in hitting her forehead on his shoulder blade, hoping to hide the fact that her face was burning scarlet at the fact that he had swatted her bum like an insolent child, no less carrying her like one. 

“Yes– well, mayhaps you shouldn’t be sneaking around at night, much less without your mutt guiding you.”

She grumbled a noise of discontentment, burying her face into his shoulder blade as a means to hide herself further, lest anyone see the absolutely precarious position that Aemond– and herself– had put her in.

They didn’t speak much as he took her back to her chambers. Moongeist was awake in an instant when he opened the door, growling and snarling.

“... s’okay,” Shera mustered as Aemond planted her on the ground next to the wolf, who immediately calmed at his owner’s presence– not without a wary look towards the prince, though. She put her hand on his head, her fingertips shaking. 

“You’re bloody, Shera.”

“Fell.”

“You can’t go to bed bloody. You’ll stain the sheets.”

“I can.”

“You can– but the maids would most certainly report it to my mother, or worse, to Rhaenyra. It’s not exactly a good look for a supposed maiden bride-to-be having bloodied sheets?”

Shera sighed, putting her head in her hands as she sat at her boudoir. “Get on with it.”

“Tell your mutt to not bite me, then.” Aemond returned in an equally annoyed tone as he wet a cloth at the washing basin, swathing it over her skinned knee, while keeping his eye trained on Moongeist– who in turn, was staring back at him.

“Have half a mind to… you were… quite mean.”

“Mean? I helped you back to your room.”

“At the dinner, when I came back. And you have been quiet since the… Kingswood.” 

“Ah.”

“... ‘ah’? That’s it?”

“Tell me truthfully; are you being coerced into this? If you are, I will cut that Strong bastard from stem to stern like a roasted pig. I see what it's doing to you. You’re frayed at the ends.”

He’s noticed? She glanced at him waywardly, fists squeezing in her lap. “I’m not some helpless little creature with no power… I still have some voice.”

“Hardly.”

“Jacaerys has been… cordial and proper,” she said. When he isn’t fucking my brother, that is.  “He even has written me letters when not visiting. What a novel idea that is, hm?” 

“You’re still upset about that?”

Shera peeked through the hair fallen in front of her face, scowling. “Yes. I am.”

He reached his hand up to pry one of hers from her face. “I’ll need to clean these, too. Even so, I do believe it requires two people to have a conversation through letters, does it not? I don’t recall receiving anything addressed to me from you over the years. I heard Helaena got quite a few.” 

Shera pressed her marred side of her face into her shoulder as she let Aemond clean the blood from her fingertips. She didn’t want him to see– she couldn’t. She didn’t quite understand the confidence that Aemond had, his scar proudly on display above and below his eyepatch. The tips of her ears went red at his insinuation. “... I suppose we both could’ve sent letters, then. I just…” her fingertips twitched as he pressed the cloth underneath her nails, scraping the dried blood from under them. “I wasn’t sure you would want to…” her hands strayed from his grasp, to which he grunted at, taking them back. “Cregan wrote the response for the first one. It… I’m sure you know it was a lie now. He is such an idiot– I am the opposite of fine. I don’t think I’ve been fine in nearly a decade.” her bottom lip wobbled slightly as she rambled on, saying all the things she’d always wanted to say to someone– no, not someone– to him. 

“... it was callous of me,” he finally offered, “To say… what I did at the dinner. It was mostly to rile Jacaerys.” he finally responded, putting the cloth to the side and examining her to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. “I’m sorry.” Aemond spoke his apology quietly, but looked directly at her face, then. His face was… surprisingly open. Not guarded.

“... ‘twas not far from the truth.”

“May I see?” 

Shera shook her head vehemently. “You can’t.”

“Please.”

She made a noise of disagreement, pressing her face further to her shoulder. She didn’t, however, account for the visibility of the scar on her throat, jagged and raised against the soft flesh of her neck. She felt one of Aemond’s fingers trace it, across slowly, then upward. His hand went to her chin and he turned her face towards him. And she let him. She didn’t have much energy to stop him, anyhow. 

His touch was soft, which surprised her greatly– she thought him unhewn and rough in all places– but this was something reminiscent of how he used to touch her as children. He was always gentle with her before. Her face was turned to him completely now, unveiled, unhidden– she braced herself for the look of humor or pity on his face, her heart stopped beating for a moment, her breaths caught in her chest.

Brushing an errant hair aside, he traced the scar over her eye. It wasn’t an entirely clean cut, like he had guessed, jutting out into two diverging lines, like branches of a tree going downward. His violet eye, the hue hardly visible from how large his pupil was, was trained on her blind one. The milky blue, her own pupil long gone. The edges of his lips curled into something akin to wonder. There wasn’t a look of pity and it didn’t seem like he was about to make another poor jest about her face– he just looked, as if to study it, to commit it to memory.

“Blue?” he murmured. “How curious.”

The way he said it had Shera perking her brow– it sounded like an epiphany to him, his voice taking a lighter note than she’d heard. There was no trace of callousness that had been exuding from him previously. He was calm.

“Yes, it's blue,” she muttered in response, his taut (but not uncomfortable) grip on her chin keeping her facing him. She desperately wanted to hide away, hide, hide. She’d never felt so exposed in her life, so naked– and she was fully clothed. It felt like her soul was on display to him, cracking from her ribcage. 

“Let me formally apologize,” he cleared his throat. “‘Tis not mangled at all, nor a mess. I now wonder, even more than before, why you persist with the veil.” Aemond let go of her chin, but not before giving it a little tug in an almost playful manner. Aemond? Playful?

“I like them– it's… to hide.” 

“Hide? To make oneself obscured, to conceal and fade into the background,” he pondered it for a moment. “You make yourself a spectacle with that thing, Shera. You are doing the opposite of hiding.”

Shera puffed out her chest, arms crossed over defensively. “A spectacle?”

“You chastised me for calling you a banshee, when you dress the part,” he leaned back in his chair, hands laced together over his stomach. He was relaxing. 

She puffed, rolling her eyes. She mimicked his body position, leaning back with her hands on her stomach. It felt… odd to be looking at him without any inhibition. It felt almost normal. Normal– normal. When was the last time she felt normal?

“I want to clarify,” she cleared her throat, fingertips paused on her throat from speaking up too fast, too loudly. “I was not trying to kill myself. It… I… I’m not suicidal.”

Aemond’s expression didn’t change, he merely focused his gaze even more onto her. He didn’t say anything.

“The… disassociation is new, like Hela told you,” Shera’s hands wrought over one another slowly. “But it isn’t… unusual, given my… conditions.”

“Conditions?” he asked finally. His face still didn’t give away any emotion.

“... no one else knows except for Cregan and the maesters at Winterfell. Jace probably knows from Cregan… telling him all the things that are wrong with me, to look out for when we’re married.” she took a breath before continuing. “The maesters don’t exactly know what to call it— but it is… I lose control of my body and fall to the ground, convulsing— it's terribly painful and then everything goes black. We have referred to it as my… fainting spells, but it surely feels like more than fainting. It’s… quite violent.” 

Aemond blinked. Hard. He took a beat to absorb the information before speaking. His position shifted as he leaned forward. “When was the last time you had one of these… spells?” 

“… not since Winterfell.” 

“I don’t remember this being an issue when you were younger— is it… relatively new?” he asked then. His lips were pursed together in a tight line, in tandem with his furrowed brow. 

“Since Driftmark.” 

The corner of his mouth twitched slightly at the mention. “Another thing for us to bear, isn’t it?” he gave a low, bitter chuckle. “The Gods weren’t satisfied in our mutilation alone and had to… bestow us with lasting gifts, hm?” 

Shera stayed silent, sitting up to where their knees were touching. Her eyes were wide as she took him in. His melancholic smile and the dullness of his eye as he looked off somewhere in the distance.

“The pain is bad most days. And on its worst days, it’s unbearable. The… the nerve damage, the maesters said. I’ll live with it forever— a constant thrum and reminder of it. There’s a few medicines that help temporarily but…” his voice trailed off, his gaze returning to her. “I’m sorry.” 

“You have nothing to apologize for, Aemond.” 

“I do and I do not— I should’ve protected you. I should’ve killed them.” he gave an ugly sneer, lip curled. 

Shera’s heart felt like it was in her throat. She wanted to cry, to scream for his pain, for her pain. She couldn’t speak, her voice coming out in unintelligible, choked sobs. 

He looked sad, too. The depth of his despair laid bare in front of her for only a moment. The mask slipped back on, his proverbial walls back up. 

But she knew. 

They were so alike— even now.

–

Aemond had always prided himself on his resilience, on his ability to mask his emotions into stone. 

Why did he become so unraveled with Shera? He confided in her so easily, as if it was second nature. 

His boots stomped down the corridor of Maegor’s Holdfast without much care. He was coming apart at the seams, like a thread pulled from an old doublet, letting the structure of the garment fall away. 

All it took was one thread. 

He found himself at his desk, candles lit. The piece of fabric she’d gifted to him, with her silly note, was still there. He clutched it in his hand, bringing it to his face and taking a breath. 

Lavender, rosemary, chamomile. The scent of her on it still lingered, if not a bit faded. 

He would smell it in the halls, coming back from training. He knew she’d been watching him in secret for the past moon. Whenever it wafted near him, he had half a mind to follow her, to confront her, to hold her—

Fuck. He was fucked. He was fucked the moment she came to King’s Landing— the very first time. 

His hand glided through his hair as he snapped off the leather cord holding it back from his face. Strands of it fell over his vision as he tossed his eyepatch to the settee behind him. 

Taking out the sapphire was a tedious task. And painful. 

But damn the Gods, if he wasn’t vain. Even if he was the only one who saw it most of the time. He clenched his free fist, white knuckled as he prised the gem from his socket, setting it aside. 

He picked up the note that had been attached to her fabric favor, looking over it again. Her handwriting was terrible— but so inevitably her. Pulling a key from under a stack of innocuous papers, he unlocked the third drawer that fell down the side of the oak desk. 

In it, were letters. Penned by him. Unsent, unseen. 

All for her. Everything he’d wanted to say to her for years, everything he’d ever written with her in mind. 

Everything he never could confess— not even now.

There were at least a hundred letters in the drawer, dated from those ten years apart. 

He placed the favor note on the top and locked it back in place. The favor fabric, however, stayed in his hand. 

After some careful cutting and somewhat haphazard stitching— Aemond had sewed a small segment of the fabric to the inside of his eyepatch. 

He stowed the remainder of it in his nightstand.

He was so fucked.

#aemond fic #aemond x oc #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #house of the dragon aemond #prince aemond #aemond one eye #hotd fanfic #aemond fanfic #aemond fandom #my writing #banshees lament #aemond targaryen smut #aemond smut #hotd #house of the dragon #aemond x original female character #aemond x ofc

[ohthewh0rror]

SAVE YOUR TEARS.

˚₊ ⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆ ₊˚ prompt — you should know better than to go behind your husbands back.

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Reader

Word Count: 1k

TW: domestic violence and implied torture

A/N: this is actually an excerpt from this Tom/halfblood!OC story I’m writing, but I don’t know if I’ll ever actually post it, so I’ll just replace her name with Y/N and post the snippets here.

Y/N’s hands grabbed desperately at Tom, his stride keeping him just a step ahead of her, just out of reach. She could feel the tears drip onto her own robes, throat aching as she pleaded with him to not do this. That’s their boy, their only son. Her pleas fell on deaf ears as Tom kept on his path to the boys room.

Knowing they were growing closer and closer to his room, Y/N gave herself one last desperate push to grab Tom’s arm. She felt her fingers manage to snag the sleeves of his robe, and with all the energy she could muster in the moment, she yanked him.

The action only served to make Tom more mad, “unhand me!”. His voice was razor sharp, vaguely unrecognizable, as he yanked his arm from her grasp. In all their years together, she’d never seen him so angry, making her fear for their son only grow. Tom quickly turned and quickened his pace, the distance growing more and more between them, as her legs began to feel like jelly.

He made it to the room before her, making sure she wouldn’t get the chance to step in. Y/N twisted, turned, and pulled on the old brass knob hoping by some miracle it would open.

But it never did.

Y/N could hear the screams from the room, her head hanging in defeat as she crumbled to the ground. Her own screams of sorrow joined Mattheo’s as Tom punished him.

She curled into a ball onto the floor, and for the first time since she was a child, prayed to the muggle God to let Tom have mercy on him.

Y/N sat in the clawfoot tub unable to move. The warmth of the water and the smell of eucalyptus should have brought her some sense of peace, but ever since Mattheo’s “punishment” earlier, she felt as if a part of her had withered away. The crushing guilt and bitterness towards not being able to stop her husband left a bitter taste on her tongue. The seed of resentment that had planted itself in her heart had sprouted, firmly planting itself there.

The sight of Mattheo on the floor, twitching, blood smeared on the edges of his mouth, made her mouth run dry. The thudding of her heart threatened to cease as her heart broke in two, she rushed to him. As Y/N knelt next to her son, she gingerly cupped the back of his head, bringing it to her lap. A shrill wail escaped from between her lips and she looked at her son, who was out of it from whatever spell Tom had used against him.

She knew Tom was becoming more ruthless by the day, but she had hoped that it’d never come to this. Perhaps she was delusional, but she—

The quiet of the room was broken when the door clicked open, breaking her out of her thoughts. Y/N didn’t bother turning around or acknowledging who it was as she already knew. Y/N kept her sight trained on the wall as she listened to her husband's shoes click against the tile. Out her peripheral she could see him lean lazily against the counter, staring at her. “You knew he was being swayed against me, didn’t you?” Tom asked her. He sounded calm and collected, and that terrified her more than his anger. She contemplated lying, but decided her chances of living were better if she just came clean.

“Not exactly, I just had my suspicions, that’s all,” finally, she looked at him, and what she saw terrified her. His eyes looked dead, the blue of them shades darker than they should have been. They pierced right through her, leaving her feeling exposed. Breaking eye contact with her, Tom began to remove the outer layer of his robes, before working his way to the suit he wore underneath. He rolled the sleeves of his black dress shirt up to his elbows before turning back to face her.

Her eyes never left him as he lazily made his way towards her. It took everything in Y/N not to shrink away, unsure of if she should trust him in this moment. Tom sat on the edge of the tub, his hand reaching out and cupping her cheek, his thumb running over her lips. He gave her a small smile, eyeing her, almost as if he was admiring her. She relaxed slightly, thinking she had been spared from his ire.

Only after she relaxed did she understand his true intentions. Instantly, his hand slid down to her throat, blunt nails digging into the side of her throat as his grip tightened. Before she had a chance to react, Tom shoved her down into the soapy water, holding her there. After a few seconds Tom brought her back up, unable to open her eyes that burned from the soap suds. Tom only let her take a single breath before he shoved her back under, holding her there a little longer than last time.

This time Y/N came back up choking, trying desperately to get the water out her lungs. Her hands shot up, gripping Tom’s wrist, but he was unphased as he stared down at her struggling to breathe. As her coughing died down, his grip loosened as Y/N’s eyes began to fill with tears. She could feel her whole body shaking as she feared what he was going to do next.

Tom released his grip on her neck completely, raising his hand and bringing it up to wipe her wet eyes, unbothered by the involuntary flinch she gave. “Do not let me hear that my wife and son are trying to conspire against me again. My love for you is the only thing that saved the both of you tonight,” Tom told her. The underlying threat left her terrified and unable to speak; she gave him a nod of understanding, hoping he’d leave her be now.

Tom placed a kiss on the center of her forehead before getting up, leaving Y/N alone with her own thoughts once again.

#tom riddle #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you #tom: of course I love my wife! who cares that I almost drowned her #bro is terrible

[written-in-flowers]

The Drifter: The Sea King's Curse (1.02)

Pairing: siren!hyunjin x fem!reader

Word Count: 25k

Genre: fantasy, smut, fluff, adventure

Summary: When the corpses of mutilated mermaids wash up on shore, the lawmen of Levanter Bay seek YN's help to find the cause. They end up discovering this goes much farther than expected.

Tags: Graphic violence (just fist fighting and monster slaying), kidnapping, animal death (hunting out of necessity), graphic descriptions of corpses, death, autopsies, thalassophobia, fear of deep water, megalophobia (fear of large objects), sea monsters, mind control, mind manipulation, mental illness, dark magic, mentions of war, slight ptsd. vaginal fingering, p in v sex, monster fucking, bigdick!hyunjin. underwater sex, public sex, outdoor sex, monster dick

A/N: this is only Part 1 of this "episode", so stick around for Part 2 and Part 3 <3

***

The sun always shone brightest near Peacock Lagoon. Hyunjin loved how the sunlight made the waters glimmer like diamonds. The colors interchanging dark greens and blues gave the lagoon its name. Secluded and enclosed, nobody could reach it except the merfolk from under the water. Large smooth rocks created perfect sunbathing spots for the merfolk to sit while they watched their young swim about in the water. Hyunjin took his usual spot on one of the higher rocks with his kin, his long blue and white tail laid out in a curved shape. The shimmery scales went up his body to his shoulders, curving around his soft underbelly and neck. Webbed hands, good for swimming in heavy waters, kept him propped up as he took in the ocean breeze. Summer was the best time of the year in his opinion. 

“Hyunjin!” 

A young mermaid came swimming up to him. Alina, round faced and bright, looked up at him from the bottom of the rock. 

“Are you not going to swim?”

“Not right now,” Hyunjin sighed, watching the others play about in the water. “I think I might catch some sun before going home.”

“You'll dry out if you're here too long.”

“Then I'll dive into the water,” he shrugged simply. 

“Alright, you know what to do if you change your mind.”

The young girl dove back into the water, and Hyunjin looked out at the mermaid lagoon. Old and young came to rest at the lagoon, socializing and taking in the sun. Hyunjin knew a lot of people here needed the closeness of community. Pirates have been seen drifting about the northern regions, and that always boded unwell for merfolk. While merfolk hunting and poaching is outlawed, there are still some who will take the risk for some gold. Hyunjin shuddered at the thought. 

“Did you hear about Calista and Celeste?” He overheard a trio of merfolk sitting above him. “Their mother said they went missing last night.”

A soft gasp made him turn his head. 

“How horrible! You don't think they were taken, do you?”

“What else could it be?”

“What did Tytos say about it?”

“Nothing! That's what upset her so much. Mizu and the other council leaders haven't said anything about the people going missing. He says they have hybrids on the borders, and the kraken, but they're happening anyways.”

Which Hyunjin found especially odd. Tytos, King of Hydrus, normally did not let things like this go. He always had a plan. But, from what his aunt told him, The King had fallen ill recently. Since then, Mizu, his head advisor, had taken over overseeing the kingdom. Perhaps his sickness is keeping him from thinking rationally. Hyunjin thought about the others as he stared off into the clear waters. 

He recalled what his Aunt Yejin told him the other night. He’d been helping her grind up plants for her healing salves when she mentioned the omen. She told him she’d been on her way home from the mainland when she’d seen it. Through the few layers of ocean water, she said a streak of bright crimson red smeared across the night sky. Having witnessed it through dark waters, she believed, meant that fire and water would meet. Hyunjin had no idea how that could be possible. Then again, the older merfolks saw omens in everything. His grandmother says she saw his newest lover in a bucket of old rocks. Hyunjin had no lovers yet. 

But the omen still worried him. With King Tytos so ill, and things turning sour so quickly, it felt foreboding. Hyunjin knew he should be focused on his navigator trials, since he’d be starting them tomorrow, but he couldn’t stop himself from being distracted. 

Then they appeared. At least six rowboats of men materialized out of the blue right amongst the splashing merfolk. Hyunjin saw their sun beaten faces and tattoos and knew immediately who they were: Pirates. Everyone scrambled to escape, but the rowboats wedged into the group too closely. Black nets fell into the water, catching a mermaid or two easily. Hyunjin gasped when he saw one man standing in his boat, aiming his gun at the mermaids thrashing about in his net. The gunshot that rang out might as well have been aimed at him. 

“Get ‘em in here! Get ‘em! Get ‘em before they get away!” 

“Come ‘ere, pretty!”

Hyunjin cleared his throat, and let out a high-pitched, ear-splitting scream. The young siren hoped this might distract the pirates, but they hardly noticed him. How could that be? He gave another long scream, loud enough to rival a banshee, but the only one who saw him was the shooter. He smirked wickedly, and aimed his gun right at Hyunjin. He didn’t have a chance. Hyunjin threw himself into the crashing waves, fear striking him right in the chest, as he heard more gunfire through the water. Several other merfolk swam right past him to the tunnels underneath the lagoon’s waters. Pitch black to any normal human, the underwater folk navigate the dark waters with their night time eyes. The gills slitted into his ribcage flapped in every deep breath Hyunjin took. 

“Hey, hey!” a merman wearing a golden breastplate and matching helmet, floated near the tunnel exit, golden trident at his side. “What’s going on? Hyunjin, what’s happening?!”

“Pirates, Mingyu! Pirates in the lagoon! Hurry!”

Mingyu whistled with his fingers, and other soldiers nearby went to him. Mermen and sirens came, as well as shark, squid and octopus hybrids. He needed to tell a council leader. Only one woman came to mind. 

Bahng Yejin. 

*****

“You go left, and I go right. Deal?

“Deal.” 

The sun high in the sky, you took Mrs. Young’s advice about the best time to catch the boar. She told you and Chan the monstrous pig liked stomping into her yard around mid-afternoon, where it’d dig through her garden for roots, nuts, and fallen fruits. Chan tried explaining having a boar could be beneficial, since they also eat snakes and smaller rodents that might infest her garden. Mrs. Young thought differently. Treading carefully behind the garden fence, you stayed low behind the hedges on the left side. Chan, in his beige sheriff uniform and jeans, held his rifle at his side as he mirrored your movement from afar. 

Mrs. Young’s bounty for wild boars implied a small group of them. While you and Chan did catch the smaller boars feasting on her berry bushes, it was the sow you both contended with now. At its height, the boar reached up to your hip with long horns that could lodge into your torso; length wise, it was almost as long as Chan’s height. You had no idea what the boar had been eating to get so big, but you both decided to take it on together. Something about the beast told you that simple fire spells won’t take it down easily enough. Mrs. Young claimed several hunters have already tried killing it to no success. It was simply too tough. 

Chan and you met eyes from across the yard. The boar currently stood in the middle of the garden patch, black fur shining in the sun and low grunting exhaling from its snout. With the beast distracted, Chan lifted his hand to show you three fingers. On a count of three then. 

‘One. Two. Three!’

You sprang out of the bushes first, putting out your palm to launch a ball of fire at its side. While it singed the fur, the enchanted flame only disgruntled the boar. It snorted, shaking its thick body and turned to face you. In a loud squeal, it charged. Hooves thumped the ground, its size doing nothing to slow it down. You only had mere seconds before a gunshot rang out. Your sword blocking its long, white horns, a splatter of blood went across its side. Keeping your blade locked between the horns, the boar had nowhere to go. It was certainly stronger than any animal you contended with before. Its loud squeals filled your ears, angry and eager to get at you. The two of you pushed into one another, sword lodged between two tusks that were inches from your torso and throat. With a few more shots, the struggling boar sagged in your arms. You managed to keep it halfway upright before Chan came out from the bushes.

“By the seas…This thing is so much bigger up close,” Chan marveled, poking the corpse with his foot.

“I wonder what it’d been eating. Does Mrs. Young grow like super berries or something?”

“Psh, maybe,” he sniffed.

Chan wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his arm, and looked towards the house not too far away. In the back doorway, you both spotted a short, withered old woman in a blue and white dress.

“Did you get it, Channie?!” her shrill voice from across the garden.

“Yes, we did, Mrs. Young,” he replied.

She left the back door and walked onto the yard. A smile spread on her wrinkled face when she saw the carcass laying in the dirt. “Oof, she’s a big one, huh?” she asked, hands on her hips. “Not a single fella I hired could handle this beast, but you two got it within a few shots.” She glanced up at you, “Perhaps having a demon in these parts really is handy. Here ya go, honey.”

She fished in her apron pocket for a coin purse. Weighing it in your hand, you felt satisfied with the amount. “What do you plan to do with it now?” you asked her out of curiosity.

“Cook it, I suppose,” she shrugged. “We do have Founder’s Day coming up. I can make a few boar pies and my boy can sell the pelt in town. It’d be a shame to waste a good pig.”

“A huge pig, at that,” Chan nodded in agreement. “Where do you want it?”

“The barn for right now. Seokwoo is on his way home, so he and Irene can help me skin and carve it.” She beamed at both of you as you each took a side and lifted it from the ground. The boar was much heavier dead than alive. “Thank you so much for your help,” she said, “The damn thing kept eating all the roots in the garden. We might’ve not had a chance at a good harvest this year if you hadn’t gotten off your butt and come over here.”

“We’ve been preoccupied with other things, Mrs. Young,” Chan grunted, face red and neck veins showing as you both brought the dead boar to the nearby barn. Throwing it onto a pile of hay, you both took deep breaths and rubbed your aching hands. “There’s only three of us, after all.”

“Well, if we’re lucky, YN will stick around longer and help everyone else. Now, come inside,” she turned back to her house, “I just took some cherry pies out of the oven. You two can take one back to the station before you go.”

Not one to turn down a free slice of pie, you walked ahead of Chan towards the house.

It had been two weeks since the incident with Maurice, the warlock spider hybrid who’d kidnapped several children. Chan told you the King’s decree that nobody is to sail out of Levanter Bay appeared to still be in effect. Though, you couldn’t help noticing the fishermen going out to sea every morning and coming back towards evening. Chan claimed that the king granted them special permission to conduct business as usual, but the ferry between cities is prohibited. You’d been amused by his explanation when you mentioned simply taking passage on one of the fishing boats.

‘Not a good idea. Those guys aren’t fond of passengers and there’d be no room for Summer.’

You found it odd at first, but after seeing the extensive bounty board, you assumed Chan needed the help. Levanter Bay’s sheriff’s station only had Chan, and his two deputies, Minho and Han. You’d made pretty decent money in the time since then, and Summer appeared to like being in one place.

“You stay out of trouble now, Channie,” Mrs. Young said as she finished packing up baked goods in a basket. “And say hi to your Ma and Pa for me.”

“I will, Mrs. Young. You take care.”

“Channie?” you teased once out of earshot.

Chan blushed, “Shut it. Mrs. Young used to be the school teacher before she retired. I’ve known her since I was a kid, and she can’t help seeing me that way still. It’s the downside to living in a small town your whole life: everyone’s known you since childhood, so it’s hard to remove that image from their heads.”

“I can actually relate to that, in a way,” you said, tying the basket to Summer’s saddle before hopping onto her. “The clan leaders still see me as an underling from time to time, but I guess I still am considering they’re thousands of years old.”

“I sometimes forget your people are immortal,” he kicked his horse’s sides and the ride began. “Are you?”

“It’s complicated, I’d say. We can live for thousands of years, but if we die on a mortal plane, we end up back home again like nothing happened. Demons who’d died on the battlefield didn’t fade into the mist or burst into thousands of pieces. They…They came back.”

“Could they come back here, if they wanted?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “Not many of us decided to stay in the mortal realm when the war ended. I’m one of the few who gave up my horns for it. I’ve been told I can come and go from The Mar since I’m a big hero and all that, but I don’t know about the others.”

The Mar elders carried no ill will to demons who wanted to return to the mortal realm, but they might not have given them the special treatment you received. 

“Would you want to go back?”

You thought about this pretty often. The Mar, a desolate wasteland void of life or greenery, was home to demons of all elements and clans. It might not be fresh and bright like the mortal world, yet you still found yourself missing the place. Everyone you’d known and grown up with still lived there. Your clan, the fire demons, resided in the smoky, volcanic mountain ranges bordering The Mar. On winter nights in the mortal realm, you longed for the comforting heat of home.

“Maybe when it starts to get cold,” you smirked. “Your winters are nearly fatal.”

“You’d be gone for six months?”

“More or less,” you then looked over at him. “Why? You’d miss me?”

“Our town would. You’ve only been here two weeks and the people have taken a shine to you.”

“It’ll be a shame to go when the ferry is up and running.”

“From what I’ve heard that won’t be for a while, anyways.”

You both shared a knowing glance. A part of you wanted to call him out on his charade, but you couldn’t help yourself. You’d grown to enjoy watching the young sheriff squirm for answers whenever you questioned him.

It was quite cute.

Arriving back in town, you saw people moving about more than usual. Crews of workmen went down the street stringing garlands of white and blue flowers between buildings or hanging gold and pale blue streamers on the trees. Above the door of the town meeting hall was a white banner with blue letters and several small handprints around it. ‘Happy Founder’s Day’ it read. 

“This Founder’s Day thing is big around here, huh?” you asked Chan as you rode by two women hanging special boat shaped lanterns from a store awning. 

“It’s huge,” he said. “It celebrates not just the town founders but the town itself. Levanter could’ve been wiped off the map several times over the centuries, but it never has. While the world changes and rearranges itself, Levanter Bay has remained more or less the same.”

“I will admit I’ve been around the world and seen loads of places,” you said, seeing men taking long planks of wood down the road to the stage construction. “Levanter Bay is nothing like them. It’s wholesome and quiet. It’s also very…diverse.”

“Are the big cities not?”

“They are, but perhaps it’s more potent here because Levanter is a small town. It’s a little melting pot.”

“It is,” he nodded proudly. “It’s something special.” 

A lovely summer breeze blew a salty wind through the singular street, coming up from the bay right outside the main town square. Levanter Bay boasted being the ‘sunny side’, but hardly any sun shone through. However, this didn’t bother the people of Levanter Bay, who took it in stride. 

“I’ve hunted for him high and low. I’ve looked him in the eye. I’ve dreamed about the perfect way to make this devil die!”

You could hear Changbin’s singing from outside the local inn, The White Pearl. The muscular woodland dwarf, taller than most variations of dwarves, swept the floors of his nearly empty tavern. Considering it’s still early morning, most of his patrons have gone to the docks or the lumber yard for work. You imagined you could get first dibs on a daily lunch special before anyone else.

“Is that Mrs. Young’s pie in there?!”

Han, the youngest deputy, stood outside the station doors with a grin on his face. The squirrel hybrid’s tail twitched at the decadent scent of baked cherries and flaky crust inside the wicker basket. He sniffed around Summer before finding the basket, which he untied and opened to inhale deeply. 

“Yes!” he beamed, “And she made coffee cake,” he melted at the cinnamon cakes inside. “We should kill boars for her more often.”

“We?” you laughed softly. “I recall you whining about us killing them.”

“They are only doing what animals do,” he shot over his shoulder, “Eating. Maybe she should’ve taken my advice and planted her food elsewhere.” 

“You know she’d never do that, Han,” Chan called at his back, dismounting his seasteed.  

Han went back inside with the basket, and someone else came out. Dark purple eyes gleamed at you happily, matching the high wings fluttering in excitement. 

“How was the boar hunt?” Minho asked you both, leaning against the stair railing while Chan tied up his horse. “Was it as big as everyone was saying?”

“Bigger,” Chan replied, walking up the steps of the station. “Much, much bigger.”

“Coming, YN?”

“Nah,” you shook your head, “I’m gonna grab a bite to eat before the lunch rush starts.”

“You just ate at Young’s!” Chan called after you, disbelief coming through his smile. 

“Demons have big appetites! See you around!”

You took Summer to the inn nearby, hearing Changbin’s singing as you brought her into the stables in the back. A low groan caught your attention, and you saw Honey sitting in her own stall by the back door. You grinned at her. 

“Morning, Honey,” you fed Summer and went to scratch behind the grizzly bear’s ear. “He’s been singing for a while, huh?”

She gave a whine, followed by a yawn. You gave her another pet, then walked into the inn from the back door. The White Pearl’s kitchen never ceased to smell of savory cooking. By the hearth stood a skinny young elf wearing an apron and oven mitts. He’d stirred a spoon inside a simmering pot when he heard the back door close. 

“Morning, YN,” Wooyoung grinned, sampling his soup before adding more herbs to the pot. “Soup’s almost done.”

You inhaled deeply, smelling the savory onions in the air. “Cheesy onion soup?” you asked hopefully. 

“With garlic crusted bread,” he nodded over to large loaves of bread on cooling racks. “Ah, ah, ah! Don’t think about it!” he immediately warned when you stepped over to the bread. “That’s for paying customers, YN.”

“I am a paying customer,” you argued playfully, giving one of them a whiff. “Food comes along with my room.” 

“Then you wait on it like everybody else,” he corrected. “Besides, what’s the point of the bread if you don’t have the soup?” 

“True.” You looked to the door leading into the common area, and could still hear Changbin’s muffled singing. “Has he been singing this whole time?”

“Not the whole time. It helps him work. Dwarves always sing while they work, so Changbin does it here. Just…don’t ask what the song’s about. You’ll never hear the end of it-Oh, damnit, the cakes!”

You left Wooyoung to fuss over lunch, and walked into the common area. Now, you definitely had to ask. 

“Kunwoo, Kunwoo, Kunwoo! You’re ancient as the mountains and as unforgiving too! Kunwoo, Kunwoo, Kunwoo, Kunwoo, now the time has come for all of us to slaughter you…”

“Who or what is Kunwoo?”

Changbin flinched when you interrupted him, and turned to face you. Pushing black curls from his face, he chuckled, “Don’t go sneaking up on people like that. It’s a good way to get shot.”

“You’re not armed,” you took a seat at the bar. “Who’s Kunwoo?”

Changbin’s good-natured expression soured at the name. You saw his hand grip the broom handle tightly, twisting it slightly. 

“He’s a great beast that lives in the Blue Mountains,” he finally answered, putting the broom aside. “I don’t mean a normal bear either. He’s monstrous. He fights with anyone he comes across, and his teeth and claws can rip through anything. He’s been stabbed, shot at, run through with swords and it doesn’t affect him. My people think he’s not even a bear, but some ancient deity.” He scoffed, going around the bar to pour himself a drink. “He’s not a deity. He’s just a massive bear. A lot of people have gone to his lair to try killing him, but nobody comes back alive. My father is the only one who’s gone up there and come back. Well, most of him came back.”

“Meaning?”

“Kunwoo slashed his leg, and it got infected on his way down. Our doctor had to amputate it.” Changbin glared into his ale mug as if it’d done him a personal wrong. “He’s vowed vengeance on the beast ever since.”

“And that need for vengeance passed on to you?”

“It did after he killed Honey’s cubs.”

You gasped, wide-eyed. “What?”

“He kills anyone, I told you. Honey and her cubs were in the mountains, and she came across him. He slaughtered her young, and nearly killed her. I managed to save her, but her babies…They didn’t stand a chance.”

“Poor Honey,” you looked to a window as if you could see her there, “That must’ve been so devastating.”

“It was.” He took a long gulp of his ale, then slammed it down. “But, one day, YN…One day, I’mma find that bastard bear for what it did to my Dad and Honey, and mount his head on that peg right there.” He pointed to an empty plaque hanging from the upstairs balcony. “I don’t care how long it takes. I don’t care where or how, but I am going to kill it.”

“Where does he live?”

“In a cave in the mountains. I go there once a year after hibernation season.” A thought then occurred to him, “You should come with me. A demon warlock could give me the edge I need.”

You’d opened your mouth to answer him, but voices cut you off right away. The familiar scent of fish and sea air flowed past you as dock workers and fishermen appeared for a hot lunch or a drink. Changbin and Wooyoung went to work, while you counted out your earnings for the day on the bar top. The money from the spider hybrid case still filled your purse, and the boars added more onto it. By the time Chan admitted there’d been no ferry-ban, you’d be well off. Your mind drifted to a possible pilgrimage back home. 

“Felix Lee! You’re back!”

Changbin stood behind the bar smiling at the newcomer. You turned to see a young elf walk through the door. His golden laurel crown stuck out against his light blond hair, and matched his dangling gold leaf earrings. The golden sun on the breast of his waistcoat resembled the one carved into your tiger’s eye necklace. A Sunwind elf. Freckled cheeks puffed with the charming smile he gave Changbin. 

“I didn’t know you’d be back so early,” Changbin said, handing two patrons their pints of ale. “I would’ve cleared a room for you.”

“My last show got canceled,” the elf said, putting his guitar case on the side, “And I had no reason to stick around so I came back. Good thing I’m in time for Founder’s Day.”

“Very good thing,” he leaned in close to him, “Mickey and Vicky broke up, so I have no headliners for that night.”

“The Light really graces us both, huh?” he smirked proudly. “I’ll take my usual for right now.”

“Coming up.” 

You finished counting up your earnings, and ordered lunch for yourself when you felt someone take the seat beside you. 

“Well, that’s a face I’ve never seen around here,” Felix Lee sneered, eyes glinting with flirtation, “And I’m not mad about it. I’m Felix.”

“YN,” you replied. Small brown freckles crossed over his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. You’re sure women everywhere fell for those freckles alone. “Sunwind?” you nodded to his waistcoat. 

“No better place in the world,” he grinned. He noticed your horn stumps, but didn’t stay on them too long, “But I think Levanter Bay has it beat now.”

You giggled at his attempt, and said, “As wholesome as this place is, there are few places in the world as beautiful as Sunwind. Well, in my opinion, anyway.”

“I thought all demons liked the dark and damp places of the world?”

“Water demons, maybe,” you said, taking up the cup of berry juice Changbin gave you. “As a fire demon, I prefer places with sunlight and warmth.”

“Huh, how funny. So do I,” he leaned against the bar, “We should go there together. I can show you places there you’d never seen before.” He noticed the sun charm around your neck, and said, “Unless, someone else already has?”

“A few have, actually,” you replied cheekily. “You wouldn’t be my first sun elf, that’s for sure,” you took a sip from your cup while he chuckled. 

“I bet you I’ll be the funnest, though.”

“That remains to be-”

“-YN! YN, YN, YN!”

Han rushed through the doors right over to you, watery eyed and panicked. His sudden appearance immediately put you on edge. 

“Han?”

“YN, we need you to come back to the station,” he said, breathing heavily from his brief sprint. “Something…Something awful’s happened.”

“You the new lawman around here? I thought Chan was still the sheriff,” Felix lifted an eyebrow. 

“Bounty hunter,” you answered quickly. “Han,” you took him by the shoulders to soothe his shaking nerves, “What’s happened?”

“They found a body at the docks,” he blurted out, “And-And Chan thinks it was pirates because it’s a mermaid and half her body is missing and it’s so horrible and she’s all flayed and pale and bloated. Minho says you might be able to ask her what happened, since, you know, you’re a demon and demons can speak to the dead sometimes-” he stopped himself short when he realized where he was, glancing at the people listening in, “Just…Please, come back to the station. We’ll pay for the time.”

A mermaid body? Half of it? Which half? You’ll admit it intrigued you. You told Changbin to give your meal to someone else, and you pulled on your jacket to follow Han. 

“A mermaid? Where?”

“She washed up on the shore,” he said hurriedly. “Helga runs a fishing boat out of our port, and she says her crew found it near the dock. They only found her top half, and all her scales were flayed off. Minho says she must’ve died a few days ago, and just left to float in the water. It’s despicable, YN. They didn’t even have the decency to send her off in her peoples’ way.”

“Poachers,” you decided. “I heard of pirates who hunt down merfolk for their scales. Merfolk scales are a fortune a piece.” 

“Not an excuse to kill a living being over it,” Han pouted, letting you walk ahead of him into the station. When you didn’t see Chan or Minho, Han said, “Minho’s in the morgue with her now.”

“And Chan?”

“He’s still at the dock with the people who found her. He thinks there are more bodies on the beaches, so he’s setting up search parties.” He shook his head, “I can’t believe this is happening now so close to Founder’s Day. We’re already gonna be swamped by the people coming into town for the celebration, and now we got this on top of that too.”

“It isn’t ideal.” 

You both entered the morgue in the back of the station, a tiled room with the proper instruments and equipment needed to conduct examinations. Minho stood beside a white porcelain table where a corpse lay waiting to be examined. Han walked up to Minho, but you froze by the door. 

The coral and seaweed in her long curls appeared dead and dried out, almost detached from her skull. Eyes devoid of color stared up at the ceiling blindly; her pallid skin looked waxy and stiff after decomposition. Death clung to your nose tightly, seeping into your lungs and making you sick. Your elders used to tell you that you’d become accustomed to dead bodies after a time, but you never could. Some of your kind relished in death and destruction. A display like this would excite them. It only saddened and sickened you. 

“How old is she?” was your first question, coming out of your mouth as you came around the table. 

“Twenty? Twenty-one, I suspect?” Minho suggested. 

The most terrifying part twisted your stomach. At her waist, her killer chopped her in half with a hatchet or a butcher knife. Her insides spilled onto the table, a mass of gray and blue that smelled of decay and salt water. Stretches of flayed muscle showed where the poachers sliced off her scales: up her back, arms, torso and neck. You knew these places to be defensive areas, where the scales acted more as a layer of armor than flesh. You couldn't bring yourself to get any closer than a foot from the table. It felt intrusive. You felt as if you'd come upon something you shouldn't have.

“Do you know her name?” 

“Not a clue. A Jane Doe.” Minho started by observing the folds of skin that remained. “They likely used a machete or a hatchet to cut her.” Finding breakages, he grimaced, “It took them several times to sever off the tail.” 

“It’s harder to slice someone in half than behead them,” you said. “What do you hope to find examining her now? Most of the evidence would’ve washed off in the ocean.” 

“It’ll be difficult to pull anything from the body in this state, yes,” Minho told you. “She’d been floating out at sea too long. I’d say about three or four days judging by decomposition, but you never know.” He looked at her face where fluids began leaking from her eyes and mouth. When he checked the flayed skin on her neck, he said, “Could you talk to her?”

“You can talk to dead people?” Han asked in surprise. 

“No,” you shook your head. “Necromancy was never my strong suit, and even if I could, I can’t guarantee I’d be successful. Water and air demonkin are usually trained in that sort of thing.”

“Hm, what a shame,” he mused out loud, managing to open her mouth where more liquid came out. Han gagged at the smell, but Minho seemed unaffected. “I was hoping you might. It’d help us learn who’d done this to her.” 

“Pirates, clearly,” you said pointedly. 

“Yes, but which ones? Han,” he looked over at the youngest deputy, “Start searching the wanted list. Look for anyone charged with piracy or merfolk poaching.”

“Got it.”

He left the room and silence fell over you both. You wished you could find a way to talk to her. Your sense of scent only picked up the water and stench left behind. “Can’t you use your special handprint dust you have?”

“I can, but she’d have to dry out first,” he said. 

He then looked at her arms, and frowned. Several black and purple bruises splotched her wrists and forearms, their shapes indicating fingerprints. Tears stung your eyes realizing what they'd done. 

“They held her down,” you sniffed, “And chopped her while she was living.”

“Or hoisted her up by the arms,” Minho said stone-faced. “She's…She's so young, YN. She didn't deserve this. Nobody does.” 

“All for gold. I might be a bounty hunter, but even I wouldn't do this.”

“You hunt animals all the time.”

“But not for sport. I'm either paid or it's to eat. I'd never do it like this.”

So callous. So cruel. You saw the young mermaid thrashing and screeching as faceless figures restrained and mutilated her. A surge of anger started in your chest and flowed towards your palms. They did not even have the decency to give her a proper send off; they dumped her into the ocean as if she were unwanted trash. That might be customary for their vile breed, but not merfolk. They are buried beneath coral and rocks to become one with the ocean floor as they decay. 

“She should be given back to her people,” you said quietly. 

“When we're done examining her, Chan plans to do that.”

That sounded like something he'd do. Minho finished gathering what he could find, which proved to be nearly nothing at all, then put her in a tub of ice. Coming back into the main room, you saw Han looking through papers. 

“Find anything?” Minho asked him. 

“Not yet,” he answered. “I didn't realize how many people are wanted for piracy until now. It's at least a hundred long.”

“Most of them are probably crew members or associates,” you said. “If you're on a pirate ship, you're a pirate to the law.” Hands in your pockets, you said, “What is the next step?”

“See if Chan finds any more bodies, and work from there,” he shrugged. “He'll likely propose a bounty to you when we figure out who is behind all this.”

“Should I keep my schedule open then?” Felix’s handsome face came to mind, and you smirked, “I did have some opportunities pop up.”

Han snorted but Minho said, “Trust me. Mayor Wallace will pay anything to make pirate trouble go away. It'll be worth the time.”

“I'll see,” you grinned, backing out of the room. 

Right as you did, Mayor Wallace stormed into the station. His eyes immediately landed on you, “YN! Thank goodness that you're still here.”

“Morning, Mayor.” You and Minho exchanged a knowing glance, “What can I do for you?”

“I'm sure Minho already brought you up to speed, but this is worse than we thought,” he said gravely. “Four more bodies washed up on shore, not that far from where the last one was. A wisp came in from a boat out at sea and they say they found skinned mermaid tails too. Those monsters,” he gruffed, “First, they attack innocent towns and now are hunting down merfolk. YN, we need your help on this. The people of Levanter Bay don't shy away from fights, but these pirates…There are too many and they're dangerous.”

“And you want someone who's more dangerous than them?” You cocked your head to one side. “It'll cost, you know that.”

“Of course,” he said, “Of course. We can go over the details in my office.” He took a deep breath, “This is bad, y'all. Really bad. The last time we had pirates in these parts, they nearly destroyed our port. Everyone was out of work for weeks. If these pirates are hunting down merfolk…Well, I hope Chan with all his Hydrus connections can pull us out of this mess before Founder’s Day. Damn Founder’s Day! I gotta go speak with the council. We gotta put a lid on this before it causes a fuss in town. We will discuss details later on tonight,” he told you again before rushing back out the door. 

“He really just flies in and out, huh?” You joked. 

“Like a bird.”

“I guess I'll be helping after all,” you sighed. “Where do you need me?”

“Help us sift through these,” he gave you a stack of documents, “And see what we find.”

Taking a seat at an empty desk, you suddenly realize how many people are on the king's wanted list. 

Too many, for sure. 

*****

This was not a coincidence. Five dead mermaids washed up in the same place? 

Chan stared out into the water from the dock, seeing the calm waters lightly moving with the currents. He thought of merfolk spots the bodies might’ve originated from, and only one came to mind: Peacock Lagoon. Chan imagined it now: all the young merfolk enjoying the water and sunshine in the large circular lagoon, peaceful and happy. But, only merfolk can go to and from the lagoon through the underwater tunnels. How could pirates possibly capture them there? 

“This is the last one, Chan.” A tall woman came up to him with two other men, carrying another torso of a merman. Helga, in her tartan shirt, overalls and boots, stood taller than most men he knew. “What do you want to do with them?”

“Take them back to the merfolk,” he said, hands on hips. “That’s where they belong.” 

“I’ll make sure it gets done,” she nodded at him. “Come on, boys.”

Chan looked down at the bodies they’d uncovered. Three females and two male. His mind drifted back to you, as it often did as of late. He wondered what you’d make of this whole thing. Chan confessed your quick thinking and eye for details impressed him. Your boldness added a flair that was unusual in these parts. He only saw something like that in Minho. He still grinned recalling you bravely walking into a spider’s nest to give him the distraction he needed. While you shook in your boots, you still stood up to the warlock because you cared more about the children than your own fears. He admired that sort of thing. 

He didn’t know what exactly to think about you yet, but he knew one thing. Chan knew he enjoyed your company, and how you continued to amaze him each time you met. 

He’d been examining one of the females when a familiar voice spoke from behind him. 

“Channie! Psst! Chan!” 

He turned around for the source of the noise, but he didn’t see anyone right away. 

“Bahng Chan! Down here!”

He realized it came from under his feet. Bending down, he peeked between the dock boards to see someone floating in the water. When he got a better look, he saw the cat-like eyes of his cousin, Hyunjin. 

“Hyunjin?” he blinked several times to see him properly. There was no mistaking the mole underneath his right eye or the seashell earring. “Is that you?”

“Be quiet!” he hissed. “Meet me by your dad’s boat tonight. I have stuff to tell you.”

“Why can’t you tell me now?”

“It’s not safe. Your dad’s boat tonight right after the sun goes down.”

“Hyunjin, does this have to do with the poachers? Can you help us? Do you know who’s behind this?”

“We. Will. Talk. Later.”

With that, Hyunjin dove back into the water and disappeared. Just like Hyunjin. He leaves more questions than he does answers. Glancing around the dock, he didn’t see anyone suspicious lurking about. Hyunjin never asked to meet in secret before. Chan worried what this might mean for his investigation. Standing up straight again, he watched as Helga and her crew loaded the merfolk onto their boat. He gave her coordinates on where to leave them, and he then walked to the edge of the dock. 

Hyunjin was one of the few Hydrus relatives he spoke to regularly. Being of the “newer generation” he did not hold the same ancient grudges against humans that his elders did. Ethereal and delicate, Chan witnessed the young siren sing from sun up to sun down without ever cracking or straining his voice. He enchanted the pants off any living creature within hearing distance, and could even center it on a singular person if he wanted. However, despite his beauty and charm, Hyunjin carried a quiet melancholy about him that added mystery. His mother used to joke that Hyunjin always appeared to be in thought. He suspected that Hyunjin’s thinking is what prompted the meeting. 

Pulling off his boots and socks, Chan removed his shirt as he hummed a tune in his throat. It loves his singing. He’d inherited his parents’ talent for song, except in his case, it attracted marine life instead of other humans. He learned how to use this very quickly. His shirt on the floor, Chan took a few light stretches before breathing in deeply. In a perfect form, Chan dove into the dark, cold water below. While most humans struggled to hold their breath, Chan tolerated the slight stinging around his rib cage. He’d forgotten how long it’d been since he swam underwater. On his defined torso, six slits appeared underneath his skin to act as his gills. 

With a single kick, Chan flowed through the water quickly. All around him, he saw the ocean life going on underneath the surface. Schools of fish broke apart as he moved through them; he caught brief glances of color from the shelves of coral growing on the floor. He could hear the whitenoise hum of the underwater world, which comforted him more than unnerved him. The freezing temperature took a bit getting used to as always, but he warmed up to it as he swam further from shore. Once halfway into the bay, he started singing softly. It’d be gurgled to non-merfolk ears, but to him and any other creature it’s clear as a bell. 

He likes jaunty tunes. 

“Come all you young sailor men, listen to me! I’ll sing you a song of the fish in the sea! And it’s windy weather, boys! Stormy weather, boys! When the wind blows, we’re all together, boys!”

Chan waited. He kept his eyes peeled for any sign of movement in the half-light. Nephrem rarely came up this close to the surface and this close to the dock, but he’d give it a shot. Chan continued singing, aimlessly swimming as he kept watch over the open space. While he’d told you the local sea serpent wreaked havoc further up north, hence why there’s no ferry rides, the creature enjoyed wandering into the bay from time to time. 

He’d gotten close to the edge of the bay when a current brushed cold water over his legs. Chan chuckled when he stared down in the abyss. It appeared at first glance to be empty, but those with keen eyes saw the glint of green and blue pass underneath him. When he lowered himself down, he still felt the smooth scales brushing the bottom of his toes. 

“Hello Nephrem,” he said. 

He rolled over to see the thick, strong body of the serpent circle him as the beast turned his head. Wide amber eyes blinked at him, a low rumble coming from its underbelly when it rounded him. Years ago, Chan would be terrified. Any sane person would be in the presence of a centuries old sea snake. But, not Chan. Not anymore. 

“Hey there, boy,” he said gently, reaching forward when the snake brushed its body close to him. The hard body passing under his fingers, he let Nephrem enjoy his gentle scratches for a moment, “You’ve been eating well. You’ve gotten bigger since I last saw you.” 

He hissed softly. 

“Some mermaids washed up on our shore this morning,” he told the snake. “My friends want to bring them back to their kin. Can you pass the message to Mama? You can reach her faster than me.” When it grumbled, he said, “Now, come on. Don’t be that way. They’re not pirates; they’re friends of mine. They won’t even be looking for you. Come on, do it for me?” Lacking a response, he said, “How about a shark?” No response. “Two sharks?” Still no response. It’d have to be a big trade to get a sea serpent near a merfolk residence. “Fine, three sharks! Big, meaty ones!” 

Nephrem’s body rippled as he shook and Chan grinned. “Good boy. Come back and I’ll have them for you.”

Three sharks will be hard to catch, but not impossible.

****

“Park Jinyoung, human, aged 52,” Han read from the document in his hand, “Captain of the Black Harpy. Wanted for poaching in conservation waters, to which the sentence is two to five years of hard labor or four to six years in imprisonment. Bounty reward set at two-thousand as of February 15th.” 

“Sounds like he could be our man,” Minho said, nodding to himself. “What else does it say about him?”

Han picked up the second page, “Huh, this guy has a pretty long list. Poaching is just the newest thing he’s being charged with.”

He handed the page to Minho, who read it before handing it to you. The three of you spent a good chunk of the day reading wanted listings and bounty advertisements. You all found a list of candidates who could be your pirate crew, but as time went on, the list dwindled to three people. 

“The next one is Kim Jennie, human mage, aged 28 years,” Han continued, “Wanted for selling illegal goods, theft and poaching. According to this docket, the goods she’d been trying to sell were hybrid skins,” you saw his jaw clench slightly, “She’s charged as Park’s accomplice here.”

“Eric Nam, goblin, aged 35 years,” you picked up the third stack left on Han’s desk. “Wanted for questioning?”

“Questioning?”

“Wanted for questioning by The King’s Inquisitor in regards to crimes committed on the 10th of June of the 18th Age,” The date sounding familiar, you turned back to Kim’s page and found the connection, “Kim is reported to have been there too. It says it here: ‘Charged with the murder of Sheriff John of Buckville and others; the theft of several crates of fine sugar, spices, and cloth from ships weighed anchor and the destruction of Port Buck.’”

“Park has the same thing in his report too,” said Minho, rereading the pages over. “The three of them must be working together.”

“Buckville is on the other side of the country,” Han noted, pulling up all three wanted posters. “It’s likely they’re sailing the opposite side to avoid the navy and pirate hunters.”

“Any pirate hotspots around here?” you asked them. 

“There’s a few further down south near the beach towns, but the closest one to us,” Minho consulted a map hanging on a nearby wall. He scanned Levanter Bay’s section of the map before finding one spot, “Cortuga is a pirate town on an island outside of The King’s jurisdiction. Several pirate lords of the time founded the land, and have since made it a refuge for pirates on the run or looking for a good stopping place. From what I’ve heard, the place is a lawless, forsaken city. All manner of crime is committed there, and the only person in charge is a pirate who is as ruthless as he is crazy.”

“It’s also out of The Crown’s jurisdiction,” Han added to it. "Since it’d gone unclaimed by any real government, people on the run can live there without worrying about being arrested.” Han stared at the map with Minho, eyes scanning over the painted canvas and fingers tracing a red line curving along with the coast. You watched him follow it south, then stop at a specific spot. “Peacock Lagoon.”

“What about it?”

“It’s a merfolk hang out,” he said. “They could have found a way inside and captured the mermaids. As they sailed away from the lagoon,” he went up to Cortuga, “They would’ve dumped the bodies somewhere in between and the water currents brought them over to us.”

“Then they’re likely still in Cortuga,” Minho said defeatedly, “And as long as they’re there, we won’t be able to arrest them.”

“Unless they somehow made their way back onto land…”

Park Jinyoung wouldn’t be the first pirate you’ve come across. During your travels, you met plenty of pirates and pirate lords. Most of them claimed to be dangerous people who are not meant to be crossed. That is, until they met you. Picking up his file again, you reread Park’s history sheet. He’d been charged with piracy at the age of fourteen, working on a pirate ship. Then, he’d gone throughout the world murdering, raping, and thieving. He disgusted you. You briefly wondered what sort of punishment he’d face in The Mar. No doubt, it will fit the magnitude of his crimes. It is part of the oath every demon recites when they pass their trials. ‘I shall protect the innocent and punish the damned’. 

“YN,” Han came over to you, “I know you’re probably a big scary demon, but Cortuga isn’t a safe place. You could seriously be hurt there. The people who go there won’t be afraid of you.”

You snorted, “They haven’t met me yet.”

“You’re not seriously thinking of going?” Minho said in disbelief. “YN, we have no definitive proof this gang is even there. You might be walking towards a dead end and get yourself killed in the process.”

“Death doesn’t scare me,” you told them. When you saw their unconvinced faces, you said, “I’m not saying this to come off as tough or brave. Demons don’t fear death the way a mortal might. To us, it’s not the end. It’s only the beginning. The people who have something to fear are the mortals who end up dead.”

“Also helps that you already know what’s on the other side,” Minho said. 

“Where’s Chan?” You noticed the darkening sky outside. “Shouldn’t he be back by now?”

“He’s likely still searching,” said Han, “Or went to go see his mother in Hydrus.”

“Worried about him?” Teased Minho, who went back to studying the map.

“He’s been gone a while, and I think he’d like to know what we’ve learned so far.”

You wouldn’t admit the idea of Chan in pirate infested waters did upset you. He might be part merfolk, but he’s only one man. Pirate ships can have crews of up to thirty men. Walking up to the window, you noticed groups of people returning to town. While lamps started being lit, the forest and beaches must be too dark to search through properly. There’d be no point in him searching late into the night. 

You hoped to find Chan among them, worn out from a long day of scouring empty beaches and sparse woods for more evidence. He won’t like the idea of you leaving town to go to Cortuga. You suspect he’ll offer to go with you, and you couldn’t have that. As much as you admired his courage, Chan also had honor. His morals and natural need to defend others could get him killed in a place like Cortuga. Still, he’ll insist that someone accompany you. Han, while a deputy and good with a rifle, is too soft for a hard pirate town. But Minho, the dark fairy from Incheon, carried a bit more fire than his colleagues.

“He’s here…”

Chan walked through town from the docks, the road passing right by the station. You couldn’t help noticing his weary eyes and dragging feet. Yet, you also saw the state of his clothes. He held his boots in one hand, and his shirt in the other. Black pants rolled up to his knees, they appeared damp in the lamp light. Warmth crept up your cheeks when you realized he walked around shirtless. Nobody else appeared bothered by his dressed down appearance, so you guessed it’s a regular sight for locals. You stopped yourself from scanning his lean torso, tracing his muscles with your eyes and wondering how often he worked out to maintain the physique. Chan’s fitness was no secret to you, but it was a fact you normally ignored. Over the course of your stay in Levanter Bay, you’d grown fond of the sheriff. You supposed that platonic fondness naturally led to other types of “fondness”.

No, that’s dumb. You hardly know him.

“Evening, boys,” Chan greeted as he walked in the door. Hanging up his shirt and putting his boots by the door, Chan didn’t notice you at first.

“Evening,” Minho and Han both replied. “Did you find anything?”

“Four more,” he answered, walking into his office. “That makes five bodies in total,” he said from inside. “They’re all skinned too and missing their tails. Our pirates are clearly after authentic mermaid scales. I’m meeting my cousin Hyunjin at my dad’s place. I think he’s got information that can really blow this case wide open for us.” Walking back into the main room, you saw he’d changed into dry pants and busied himself with  towel drying his black curls. You focused on his face rather than his muscled shoulders and arms.

Minho cleared his throat and nodded his head over at you. A blush immediately filled Chan’s ears when he finally spotted you. “YN! oh, um, wow,” he stammered, “I didn’t know you were…here.”

“Mayor Wallace offered me the bounty,” you explained awkwardly. "I’ve been helping Han and Minho look for more clues. We, um, found some possible suspects and we-were thinking of a way to capture them.”

“Oh, is that right?” he turned to Minho, avoiding the shirtless elephant in the room. Why is he not scrambling for a shirt or at least using the towel to cover himself? “Who?”

“Park Jinyoung,” Minho responded, picking up the page to hand to Chan.

“Yes, Jinyoung could be good for this,” he nodded, reading the page. “My dad used to mention him from time to time. He’s a rotten bastard, for sure…And Jennie Kim, that wouldn’t be a surprise. She’s attached to the man by the hip.” He handed him back the page, “Any idea where they may be?”

“Cortuga,” he answered. “YN thinks she should go there and bring one of them back here for questioning.”

“No,” Chan said abruptly. He turned to you, “No, you’re not going there.”

“And why not?” 

“Because…Because it’s dangerous there,” he struggled to say. “You could get seriously hurt or captured. There’d be no way for us to come get you.”

“Who do you suppose should go instead?” you challenged, “You?”

“Yes, me,” he said. “I’ve dealt with more pirates than you know. I don’t get scared very easily.”

“Neither do I,” you replied stiffly. You saw the determination in his eyes, and knew you’d need to convince him more. “Chan, I’m not saying I believe you’re incapable or scared of them. I know you’re not. You’re a tough guy, but you’re also a tough guy with a moral code and an honorable inclination to defend and protect others. It’s why you’re a sheriff.” This evaluation of him seemed to stun Chan into silence. “The people on Cortuga are neither honorable nor honest. They don’t play fair. They’ll likely capture you for ransom or worse, and…” you hated the picture that crossed your mind, “It’s just better if I go.”

“No, it’s not,” he argued, walking to meet you by the window. “You’re tough, yes. You’re a demon and your demon form will likely scare the shit out of even the baddest pirate. But, you’re also a woman-”

“-Okay, wow-”

“-I don’t mean it like that,” he cut you off. “I mean that they’re not going to take you seriously.”

“I’ll make them.”

“And they might figure out a way to trap or subdue you, and then you’ll be stuck there with nobody to help you.”

“You won’t have anyone to help you either.”

“They’ll put a sheriff up for ransom, but a demon bounty hunter? They’ll have no problem just killing you.”

“They can try.”

“YN, please,” you heard the plea in his voice, “It’s dangerous, and I don’t…I mean, we wouldn’t want anything to happen to you-”

“-I’m not a baby, Chan. I’ve handled myself fine before-”

“-And I’m not arguing that-”

“-Then why are you so against my going there?-”

“-Because it’s unsafe-”

“-It’d be unsafe for you too-”

“-But it’d be worse for you-”

“-Hey!” Minho interrupted you both, walking across the room to stand between you both. “I’ll go,” he declared, “And you two can stay here.”

“Minho, come on-” Chan began, but Minho put up a hand. 

“I’m the best with magic out of the four of us-Oh, don’t make that face, you know it’s true-” he said to you when you scoffed. “I’m a shadow fairy. We’re made of pure black magic. Even the toughest warlock or mage has trouble going up against me. Besides, I’m not as rough as you,” he turned to you, “Or as noble as you,” he said to Chan. “You said Hyunjin wants to meet you? Take YN and go speak to him.”

“And what about me?” pouted Han from his desk. 

“You’re coming with me, love,” Minho told him. “You’re handy with a pistol and you can sniff them out better than me.”

“Minho, no,” said Chan. 

“Chan, shut up and let me do my damn job,” Minho hissed. You noticed his wings give a quick flutter. “Hannie, we’ll leave in the morning. Let's get some sleep.”

“You got it, sir…” said Han, getting up from his desk and grabbing his jacket.  

“I can also travel there faster than either of you,” Minho said next. “Meet up with Hyunjin, and we can talk about it when Han and I come back tomorrow.”

Chan stared at Minho indignantly, but Minho stared back. Deciding he won't win, Chan conceded, “Alright. You go to Cortuga, and YN and I will go talk to Hyunjin.”

“Good. Glad this got squared away. If you two don't mind,” he lifted himself off the floor with his wings, “I have a big day tomorrow.”

He flew out of the station through an open window, leaving dust trailing in his wake. Silence fell over both you and Chan. 

“I wasn't saying I think you're not strong enough,” he began but you stopped him. 

“No offense taken,” you assured him. “Honestly.”

He nodded, and said, “Do you want to come with me? It's alright if you'd rather relax at the inn. I heard Felix is in town, so he's likely going to do a set-”

“-And miss out on meeting a mermaid?” you scoffed, “Please. Do you know how rare seeing a mermaid is? Talking to one is even rarer.”

He chuckled, “Hyunjin's a siren.”

“Even rarer. You think he'd sing for me?”

“If you want to drown, sure,” he shrugged nonchalantly. “Come on then. My dad's boat isn't far from here.”

It was then you noticed the smell. 

“Did you go fishing?”

“Huh? No,” he answered strangely. “I was out near the fishing boats, so that's why I probably stink a bit.”

“Is that also why you came on here soaked and shirtless?” 

“I fell in.”

“But your boots and shirt are dry.”

“You should consider a career change,” he snapped, “You'd make a great sheriff.”

“I'll pass. I've carried enough responsibility to last a lifetime.”

You walked past him with a playful grin and he followed you. 

Still shirtless. 

Chan's father lived on a houseboat docked in the residential part of the marina. A small furry dog laid down on a bed next to the door, head on their paws under a wall light. The moment you and Chan approached, the charles spaniel lifted its head, floppy ears dangling. 

“Hey Berry!” Chan beamed brightly, bending down and extending his arms as Berry ran to him, barking with excitement. “Hey there, girl. Aw, you missed me?” He laughed when she licked at his face, “I missed you too!” 

Berry noticed you, and your body froze. Animals always gave you different reactions. You did your best to appear harmless, hoping the dog took to you as she cautiously approached you. Wet nose sniffing around your feet, when she did not immediately growl or snap her jaws, you thought you might be in the clear. 

“You willingly pet and feed a grizzly bear,” Chan snorted, “Don’t tell me dogs scare you.”

“They don’t,” you answered, bending to gingerly pet Berry’s head, which she allowed. “I’ll admit I get skittish around new animals. I never know how they’ll react to me because, you know,” you lifted your eyes to your forehead, “The stumps?” 

“Berry’s not like that. She likes everyone.”

Berry’s rough tongue licked at your palm, and you smiled as you scratched behind her ears. A shift of light ahead of you made you snap to the door where a man stood watching the three of you. He wore a loose flannel shirt and worn out denim and boots. You noticed he held something in his hand, but you couldn’t tell what from the distance and light. You knew he must be Chan’s father. 

“Bahng Chan!” the man said, affronted. “What are you doing?!” He left the doorstep, shock on his face, and came towards you. His approach sent your body into a defensive mode. “Put a shirt on young man! There’s a lady present!” 

The item he held happened to be a shirt, which Chan took sheepishly. “Evening, Dad,” he said, pulling on the tank top. “Jacob and Donny went home?”

“A few minutes ago. We’d been looking up these parts for more merfolk, but didn’t find anyone,” he replied. “Aren’t you going to introduce your lady friend, Chan?”

“Dad, this is YN,” Chan obliged. “She’s been helping with some bounties around town, and took up this case. YN, this is my dad, Jack.”

“Pleasure to meet you, sir,” you outstretched your hand.

“A demon with manners,” Jack said, amused. “The last demon I saw wanted to slice my head off rather than shake my hand.” The both of you shook hands, “I never thought I’d meet The Multak in person.”

The response took you back for a moment. “You served, sir?”

“In His Majesty’s navy,” he nodded, turning to walk back into the house. You both took this as a sign to follow him inside, Berry trailing behind at the rear. “I was there at the Battle of Busan when the demon forces took to the water on stolen ships.”

“Dad was a naval captain,” Chan said with a proud smile, “Before he retired.”

“You were in Busan?”

“On the front lines,” he nodded.

Jack’s home was modest and homey, the back end going out past the shore and into the water. Nautical trinkets hung from fishing lines like wind chimes, and you saw a row of medals and trophies along a window sill beside the back door. You also noticed a photo of Jack with a woman and a baby Chan. Yes, you knew she was Chan’s mother. They looked too alike to be anything else. 

For a brief moment, you wondered what having a mother felt like. Demons aren’t born the same as mortals. You’d been created from fire and rock; a child born in the lava of the Burning Range around The Mar. You supposed the Keepers charged with caring for demonkin underlings could be your mothers and fathers. Your mentors in the training yards could be parental figures in their own way. One person in particular came to mind: Zunar, overseer of Keepers.

A demon of immense strength, he shaped underlings into full-fledged warriors for centuries. Muscular with the runic tattoos of your people on his body, he was one of the few fire demons with wings. You always asked him when you’d get yours, and he’d tell you that wings came at birth. All underlings, demonkin children, were under his charge from infancy to eighteen. While he did care and mentor all underlings, he took a special shine to you. He said you carried an aura far different than any underling he’d ever met. He prophesied that you’d grow up to do great things when your egg cracked in the lava river. He said it should have killed you, but you survived. You supposed his premonition came true.

“Upon one summer’s morning, I carefully did stray down by the walls of whopping, where I met a sailor gay…”

The singing voice broke you from your memories. You heard it coming from the stern of the boat. 

“Conversing with a young lass, who seemed to be in pain. Saying ‘William when you go I fear you’ll never return again…”

While Chan and Jack talked, you stared transfixed at the source of the singing. The back of the ship led out to a low platform that acted as a porch. While the sides had railings, the very end remained open. Sitting on the edge of the boat was a young man. Black hair hanging down to his shoulders, you saw his back covered in blue scales that started dark blue at his tail and gradually became white towards his shoulders and arms. You didn’t see anything else but him. He drew you to him like a moth to a flame, and you knew you’d get burned.

“My heart is pierced by cupid. I disdain all glittering gold. There is nothing can console me, but my jolly sailor bold…”

The creak of a deck board interrupted his singing. When it stopped, your brain felt fuzzy and muddled. The siren turned around, and you couldn’t stop looking at him. His round face ended with a square jaw and pointed chin. Cat-like eyes, the color of dark topaz, blinked at you once before clouding with suspicion. Thick, pouty lips turned into a scowl when he looked up to see your stumps. You felt him surveying you, deciding whether you may be a threat or not.

“Who are you?” he asked, defensively. “Where’s Chan?”

“I’m YN,” you said breathlessly. “Chan’s inside with Jack. You…You must be Hyunjin, right?”

“He didn’t tell me he’d bring a stranger. I was expecting Minho or Han.”

“They’re busy with another lead.”

“And why are you here?”

“To help.”

“Why?”

“Because what happened to those merpeople is evil and needs to be punished, which is something I vowed to do,” you said.

“And because Chan offered you money. Yes,” he nodded at your stunned expression, “I know a bounty hunter when I see one.” He eyed the Sunwind charm and claws around your neck, “Where’d you get that?”

“An elf gave it to me after I saved her son from a spider hybrid.”

Hyunjin clearly appeared to be weighing this response. “They don’t give those freely,” he said.

“No, they don’t.”

“And those claws?”

“Werewolf and werecat.”

He stayed silent again, “What do you know of merfolk, YN?”

He turned fully to face you, and you saw the scales spanned from his back to his abdomen and chest. The only flesh available was the very middle of his belly and the sternum of his chest; only the contours of his face glimmered pale blue and nearly white. Light blue and white fringes went along the sides of his thick blue tail, the scales glittered like gems in the lamplight hanging from the ceiling. Seeing him up close, you saw the crown of tiny starfish and pearls attached to his head. It reminded you of the young mermaid you saw today, who had coral pieces in her hair. A beautiful, young siren like the ones in the fairytales and paintings. 

“That they believe in water spirits,” you stared, “And find omens in the skies and currents of the seas. I know mermaids can call upon the magic of the ocean to aid them in battle, and that a siren’s song can lead a man to his death. I know they’re also stealthy people who can hide in plain sight.” You gave a small smile, “A naval commander I sailed with said the difference in mermaids and sirens is that with mermaids you can’t see a mermaid, but it can see you; with sirens, you can hear them, but you don’t see them until it’s too late.” 

The corner of his mouth twitched at this saying. He turned back to the waters ahead, and you took this as a sign to join him. 

“That’s all true,” he said. “But, what do you know of our king?”

“Not much, to be honest. I only know his name is Tytos and he was the one who stopped the mighty water snake, Cierian, from destroying Hydrus.”

“Those things are true, yes,” he replied, “But King Tytos is so much more than his deeds. Ever since I was a baby, King Tytos has ruled the seven seas from the capital city, Hydrus. He is an understanding, compassionate, honorable merman who does what is best for his people. He has built alliances with creatures we never thought to befriend before, and has opened communications between our people and the mainlanders. He listens to everyone’s opinions and concerns. He seeks counsel even from the smallest, most common of merfolk. Tytos is the king that Hydrus needed during those dark days.” You saw his eyes twinkled with tears, “He saved my father during a battle between our people and the bloodbane merfolk. He is a good, noble man, YN. He is respected and admired by anyone who meets him.”

“What’s happened to him?”

“We don’t know,” his voice became thick with tears as he looked at you. “He’s sick, but not a normal sickness that can be cured with tonics or herbs. It’s a sickness of the mind. He isn’t himself. My aunt, Chan’s mother Yejin, says he’s bed ridden most days, and that he gives all his commands through his chief advisor, a merman named Mizu.”

“Mizu? What’s he got to do with all of this?”

Chan came up from behind you with a beer bottle in his hand, concern on his face.

“Your mother thinks he’s poisoning the king,” Hyunjin revealed, “Or using some form of magic to control him and keep him sick.”

“How is this connected to our merfolk?”

He took a seat on Hyunjin’s other side, and the siren continued. “Your mother says that ever since he became ill, Mizu has been in charge. Mizu claims that Tytos ordered soldiers to withdraw from the smaller villages and return to Hydrus. This leaves those people defenseless. These new pirate attacks are the first in a long line of threats to come. She said one commander reported seeing a leviathan roaming the borders of the Caspian Seas. Another said that the fish populations are migrating further north as the predators grow in vast numbers. Hunters do what they can to keep them at a minimum, but they’re becoming a major threat to the plains. She and the other advisors have tried speaking out against him, demanding to speak to Tytos himself but Mizu forbids it.” His voice dropped to a whisper as he said, “He confined the queen to her tower, and banished Murrow.”

Chan’s mouth fell open, “He banished Murrow?!”

“Who’s Murrow?” you asked.

“He’s the commander of Tytos’s personal guard,” Hyunjin said. “Rumor has it he tried garnering support to overthrow Mizu from his position and ended up being arrested allegedly on The King’s orders.” 

“And where is Ormand in all of this?” asked Chan. “He’s Tytos’s son and should be in charge after him.”

“Ormand is dead.”

“What? You’re kidding!”

“He and his men were ambushed by a group of bloodbane merfolk,” he said, “But a lot of the advisors think Mizu orchestrated it. The only royals left are the princes and princesses: Ronan, Arielle, Arista and Kenn. None of them are old enough to rule on their own; besides, they’ve been locked up with their mother this entire time. It’s awful, Chan. Everyone in the palace is terrified, and the people in Hydrus are starting to lose hope and faith that their king will pull through and come to his senses. We need your help.”

“How can I help?” he asked, “I don’t have magic.”

“But your friend, Minho, does. You’ve always said he’s the best magic wielder you know. Your mother suspects this runs so much deeper than what’s on the surface. She can’t confront Mizu directly, since then she’s likely to be taken out next. She can’t speak to the king because she’ll end up in prison like so many others. We both thought Minho might have a solution, or know of a way to break Mizu’s curse.”

“Minho is good with magic,” Chan said, “But he’s going to Cortuga tomorrow to talk to some pirates we think are responsible for what happened today.”

“You mean Park Jinyoung and his crew?”

“Yes,” he perked up, “Was it them?”

“It might be,” he replied. “I know his first mate is a mage. She’s likely the reason pirates were able to invade Peacock Lagoon in the first place.”

“Minho mentioned Peacock Lagoon,” you chimed in. “He said it’s impenetrable from above water.”

“It is,” Hyunjin confirmed, “I was there when it happened. There we all were enjoying the sun when they appeared out of thin air. Some of us sirens tried screeching to get them to leave, but it didn’t seem to work. They were immune to our powers.”

“Candle wax,” Chan suggested before sipping his beer. “They stuff it in their ears before going into merfolk waters to avoid falling into trances.”

“This lagoon of yours,” you began, “What are its defenses?”

“The reefs and rocks surrounding it mostly,” he answered. “An aerial attack would be possible, but the lagoon isn’t a town or a castle. It’s more like a meeting place. It’s one of our safe havens from humans. Whoever brought them there knew the precise location.”

“And you think this is connected to the other threats?”

“It must be. It’s not a coincidence all these things are happening right now. If people believe Tytos is too weak to fulfill his duties, he will be deposed and someone else will be put in his place,” Hyunjin then glowered, “Mizu has his eyes on the throne. I know he does. Why else would he be doing this?”

“Power does strange things to people,” you mused out loud.

“Can you help us?” Hyunjin’s question sounded cautious and uncertain. “Well, you are a demon,” he continued, “And if there is any being versed in dark magic, it’s demons. Dark magic is at play here, and we need someone who can defeat it.”

“And if anyone is good at defeating dark magic,” Jack said from behind the three of you, “It’s you.”

“I got lucky,” you told them. “I had help.”

“You’d have help this time.”

“I don’t even know what’s wrong with your king,” you told Hyunjin. “Have you seen him?”

“No, but Chan’s mother has. She can describe to you what she’s seen and what goes on inside the palace,” he said.

“My wife is good friends with the king and queen,” Jack said, drinking from his beer and petting Berry’s head. “If anyone can get close to them, it’s her. Yejin will help you the best way she can.”

“My kind don’t do well underwater,” you said. “It’s too cold for us fire demons.”

“You’d be fine,” insisted Chan. “We’ll go to Hydrus tomorrow and talk to Ma.”

“Chan, I don’t think I’d-”

“-You will?” Hyunjin asked with hope in his eyes. “Really?”

“We need to stop these pirate attacks somehow. Minho might learn what’s really going on when he questions Jinyoung’s crew,” he said, “And we can assess Tytos’s condition for ourselves.”

It was the least you could do. Hyunjin said he’d meet you both back at the house tomorrow, and you’d all go together. However, there was one detail neither of them failed to bring up.

“Um, you both might be able to breathe underwater, but this gal doesn’t,” you jerked a thumb at yourself.

“Don’t worry about that,” Hyunjin comforted you with a pat on the knee. “See you two tomorrow.”

A fresh sense of hope spread across Hyunjin’s face, and he glowed with pride. He pecked Chan’s cheek, then dove back into the water. You sat there on the edge of the porch with Chan, who quietly sipped his beer for a while. The faint sounds of the ocean came to you from afar, and a cold breeze made you shudder. 

You hated the cold. 

****

The next morning, you stood on Jack’s boat at the edge of the bay area. Minho and Han went ahead of you and Chan to Cortuga, where you prayed they’d be successful. Mostly because you didn’t know how successful your endeavor would be today. You stayed by the stern of the ship, looking down at the blue waters lapping at the bottom of the hull nervously. You didn’t mind sailing on the ocean. You didn’t mind lakes or rivers or ponds, but that was because you’re above the surface. The cold can’t reach you on the boat. Simply seeing the vast depths below gave you shivers. 

“Don’t be such a scaredy cat,” Chan laughed from behind you. 

He came out of the cabin without a shirt again. The sight of his naked torso distracted you from the deadly waters for a moment. 

“I’m not scared,” you retorted. “I’m just confused on how I’m going to breathe underwater.”

“Well, you’d get kissed obviously.”

“Kissed?” you gulped, “By who?”

“Hyunjin,” he said simply, fixing his shorts over his hips properly. “A siren’s kiss grants you the ability to breathe underwater.”

“Um, well…I guess…”

“Besides, it’s not that you need to worry about,” he started stretching his arms and legs. You supposed you should do the same. Swimming was never your strong suit. “It’s the beasts.”

“You mean that supposed sea snake that has been keeping the ferry docked?” you asked, eyebrows raised in suspicion. 

“Him, and others like sharks, squids, and all the rest. There are also the bloodbane tribes. Think of them like evil mermaids.” 

“Hm, makes sense.” You bent your body sideways with your arm, “I don’t know how useful I’m going to be to Hyunjin. I don’t think my powers will work underwater.”

“You never know until you try, and besides, you won’t be going anywhere near the palace. We’re meeting Ma and Hannah in her shop. She’ll tell us what we need to know to get a feel for this from afar.”

“Do you really think the pirates are related to this?”

“I do,” he nodded. “It’s odd to see pirates and merfolk working together, but it might be that Mizu promised them something. That or the person they’re both working for has offered them something they each want.”

“There’s someone else involved now?”

“There has to be. Mizu didn’t wake up one day and decide he’s going to take over the aquatic kingdoms,” he said, twisting his body left and right. “This is bigger than just poaching. I can feel it. I know you can too.”

He crossed your mind as he always did. Nor’goth. The monster who seduced good, honorable men and made them his slaves. He promised them power in exchange for their servitude. You’d spent a majority of the war fighting against those who worked for Nor’goth: lords who sought out wealth and power; criminals who wanted excuses to hurt others; the foolish and the weak seeking his protection. No. No, Nor’goth is in The Abyss where he belongs, powerless and slowly dying. 

A splash from nearby caught your attention. You stopped stretching and looked over the stern to see Hyunjin floating in the water. He grinned up at you, making your heart flutter. Sirens truly are things of beauty. 

“Morning YN,” he said, “Ready?”

“As ready as I could ever be, I suppose.”

“You'll be fine,” he assured you. “Come down here.”

You climbed down the back steps of the boat and sat on the bottom landing. Your bare feet slipped into the water, which you then immediately yanked back. 

“It's cold!” You exclaimed, hugging your knees. “I'd rather fight pirates. I'm gonna go and fight pirates.”

“Stop being a baby, and get in there!”

A hard shove from behind made you tumble into the water. The temperature might be a bit chilly for a mortal body, but for you, it pinched your insides until they turned to ice. You swore the water completely doused your fiery insides. The brief moment underwater, your feet not touching anything solid, sent you scrambling to the surface. You scowled at Hyunjin and Chan’s laughter and vowed revenge somehow. Chan made a perfect dive into the water and through the crystal surface you saw him transform. While his legs remained separated, you saw webbing grow between his fingers and fins elongate out of his toes. Six clear slits cut into his ribcage, opening and closing with each breath. His fair skin even seems to shimmer in places, iridescent in the morning sunshine. Chan turned from a small town sheriff into a halfling merman. 

“Wow…” you let out in a breath, seeing him dive further beneath your feet. 

“Your turn.”

“Huh?”

Hyunjin gently grabbed both sides of your jaw so you faced him. You never noticed the small mole underneath his left eye. Up close, you found yourself falling into a hazy trance.

“Don't worry,” he said, leaning closer, “It only hurts for a second.”

“What hurts?”

Then he kissed you. His lips and hands were the only sources of warmth your body found, and it clung to them fiercely. However, the comfort did not last long as he pulled away. 

“Now I can tell all my friends I kissed a demon,” he smirked, and then took hold of your hand. 

And brought you under the surface. Holding your breath out of instinct, you let out small air bubbles as the sharpness hit your abdomen. You kept each breath in, but it became difficult as the sharp burning pain extended to your back and your mouth opened up. Gulps of water filled your mouth and throat, your vision blurry and stinging underwater, and you tried reaching the surface. But suddenly, the pain faded away. The sensation of your breath coming through the gills made in your skin felt surreal. The blurriness from before went away in a few blinks, and you saw everything as clear as day. Both Hyunjin and Chan remained stationary, giving encouraging smiles as the realization hit you. 

“Wow!” You let out a giggle, glancing around the vast space around you. “Wait. I can talk? Can you guys hear me?!”

“Yes,” Hyunjin laughed, his voice clear even through water, “We can hear you just fine.”

You kicked yourself forward a few feet, your body used to struggling under the weight of your clothes. Yet, you found yourself gliding smoothly past both men. You made twirls, spins, and dove up and down. The water made you feel weightless. You saw coral reefs, vibrant and rocky, on the ocean floor. Going closer, you saw the tiny sea critters living in their own ecosystem. Life bloomed even underwater. You took in the colors, the species and fish you'd never seen before. The sand on the floor felt soft like powder, floating out of your hand in each current. Now you understand why water demons stuck to their rivers and lakes back home. The world was different under the sea. 

“Come on, little explorer,” Hyunjin led you away from an octopus you'd been observing, “You can see more later on.”

Hyunjin led both you and Chan further out to sea. The dark blue ahead of you shrouded any dangers ahead with its cloudiness. You forced yourself to focus on the bits of fish and seaweed you could see as you swam by. It was halfway through that you heard high pitched sounds coming from nearby, mingled with deep tones responding back. Hyunjin grinned at the whale calls from beyond. 

“Looks like we found ourselves a ride,” he grinned at you and Chan. 

“Huh?”

Hyunjin guided you towards the sounds, and out of the cloudiness you saw them. Several large blue whales swam by you in a herd, communicating with one another. At first, you thought they were only fish but then you realized the smaller beings swimming with them were merfolk. Merpeople, sirens and aquatic hybrids clung to the whales’ sides and fins. It appeared to act like a transport system. 

“When I say go,” Hyunjin said to you, “You go.”

Chan, already accustomed to this, hopped ahead of you as a whale passed by you. 

“Go!”

With a slight shove, you crashed right into the bumpy side of the whale. Briefly, you wondered if you'd hurt it. Catching hold of a larger bump, you kept yourself steady as the whale kept swimming. 

“Don't worry,” Hyunjin said, holding onto the space next to you, “They don't feel it!” 

“Is this how you get around?”

“Mostly, when going from city to city.”

“There are other cities?”

“Tons! Hydrus is the capital, but there are plenty more across the seas.” 

You took in the scenery as the whales went down their path. The rushing waters turned the passing scenes into dashes of color mixed with seafoam. You gave an elated giggle. The whale's deep breaths pulsed against your hands, the bumps pushing gently into your hands. The other merfolk chattered and laughed together, as if riding a tram car or an airship. Some of them sat atop the whales, eating clams and other shellfish. You watched them talk to one another, seeing their faces and taking them all in. He wanted to ruin this. He wanted to make the merfolk his slaves, stripping them of their freedom and turning them into amusement attractions. You envisioned them all rounded up in cages, forced to sing and perform until they died. It stung your eyes. 

“Don't be scared,” Hyunjin said, misreading your emotions. “Just hold on tight and don't let go.”

“He wanted to destroy all of this,” you said, gulping back a lump. “He would've if we hadn't stopped him.”

“Who? Nor’goth?”

“Yes. He said merfolk were pointless, and that he'd give them a purpose,” you saw two children racing one another alongside one of the whales, giggling with delight. “He wanted to enslave your people. He would've torn everything down.” It hurt you imagining those children without homes or families. 

“I heard he was awful, and so were the people who followed him.” He then asked, “Were you one of them?”

“No,” you shook your head. “Never.”

“YN was the one who killed him,” said Chan.

“You were?” Hyunjin asked, surprised by the news. 

“Yes.”

Hyunjin saw your dejected face. “Did you know him well?”

“Too well.”

“Was he family?”

“In a way. He was Lord of The Range, where my clan lived.” 

You sometimes thought of him late at night. Nor’goth, Lord of the Burning Range, Commander of The Fire Clan and Guardian of Damned Souls. Nor’goth, who sat upon a throne of molten lava and handed out punishments. Nobody believed you when you said he hadn't always been that way. He might've had his warped views about mortals and believed in demon supremacy, but he held true to his oath once. When you finally met in Incheon, a land of rivers and lakes and trees, the Nor'goth you'd respected turned into a different being altogether. You saw how his own darkness consumed him; the way his arrogance and bigotry blinded him to the old ways, and that he must be stopped. 

“That must've been hard,” Hyunjin’s voice broke you from your thoughts. “It's not easy fighting against those you know.”

“It wasn't, but he'd become so deranged by then that I didn't see him as the lord I'd known. I saw him as another monster who needed to be put down.” You looked back to the two children, who'd stopped their race to eat. “He would've killed them. He would've killed all of them.”

‘We must take this world and make it ours!’

‘This world is not ours, Nor'goth. It is theirs. We have no place amongst them!’

‘No! THEY have no place amongst US!’

Zunar had been there that day. He'd led the distraction off to the west to draw Nor’goth's minions away from him. As the whale carried on, you remembered his solemn face when you volunteered to distract Nor’goth. He knew it must be you, but he wished it were otherwise. You swallowed thickly. His blood felt like fire on your palms, his choked gasps blocking out the battle raging around you. He'd died fighting, as every demon warrior hopes for. Back then, you didn't know he’d return home to heal. You only knew the one person you looked up to had died in your arms, and it'd been Nor’goth’s fault. 

“Hydrus, next! Hydrus is the next spot! Please gather your belongings and wait until the transport comes to a full stop!” A male siren sitting on the whale's head shouted down the line. 

You saw what resembled an airship stop up ahead. More merfolk stayed floating on a platform as the whale pulled into the station. When it came to a complete stop, some people let go of the whale, while others stayed “aboard”. Someone took your hand, and you thought it was Hyunjin. Yet, when you looked, Chan swam beside you. His fingers delicately wrapped around your wrist, you felt his thumb pressed to your vital point. Your pulse quickened at his touch. He never gripped too hard or tugged you behind him. He always kept the same pace. You liked it. 

“Welcome to Hydrus, YN.”

Swimming out of an old ruin doubling as a “transport station”, you saw the city up ahead. A city of lights and stone buildings stood a mile or so away from the station, where more merfolk lived in peace. 

“It's beautiful,” you marveled, seeing the marble towers even further off, “And that's the palace?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “Come on. It's even better up close.”

The three of you went into the city together. By the stone buildings and cobbled streets, Hydrus had once been a city that went underwater. Coral, seaweed, and other small creatures made the cracks in buildings their home; luminous fish lived inside the lanterns going down the streets. You passed people doing their morning shopping, and children on their way to school. It resembled any other city, only for merpeople. 

“This is the trade district,” Hyunjin said as he took you down an adjacent street and into another lane. “Tailors, jewelers, blacksmiths, butchers, and anything else that can be made is sold here. Chan's mother owns an apothecary down here.” He brought you to a small shop wedged between two taller ones with a silver shooting star sign hanging over the door. 

“Silverstar Apothecary,” you read the sign.

Through a display window of books, bottles and vials, you saw a young mermaid behind the counter. Her black hair tied back in a long plait, you noticed the gold bands braided into her hair. Bands that matched the yellow coral encrusted around her temples and eyes. Chan's smile widened at the sight of the young woman, and he swam ahead of you inside. 

“Hey, fishead,” he smirked, leaning against the door. 

The woman looked up from her work on the counter and sneered back. “Hey, blobfish.” 

The two siblings laughed and rushed to embrace one another. Hannah clearly took on her mother's genes with her mermaid tail and coral head pieces. 

“I'm so glad you're here!” Hannah cheered, spinning him around. “Ma’s gonna be so happy when she sees you!” She released him to turn to a beaded doorway. “Mama! Mama, Chan's here!” 

A woman came through the beaded curtain, her eyes landing right on Chan when she entered. The young woman in the photo now had laugh lines and crow's feet; black hair streaked with thin gray hairs contrasted with the amethyst gems and geodes in the crown of her head. She has Chan's downturned eyes and cupid's bow lips. Her tail was white with lavender stripes, fringes of pale purple flowing off the sides. She was beautiful. You understood immediately why Chan's father became so enamored with her. 

“Channie!” She cried out, hugging her child tightly. Her face buried in his black curls, she savored the brief seconds she held him. “Oh, my baby's home!”

“Ma!” Chan chuckled, “Mama! I wasn't gone that long!”

“Anytime you leave it feels like an eternity,” she said, releasing him. She then hugged Hyunjin, kissing his cheek. “And you too. Your father came in here looking for you. He said something about your spear throwing.”

Hyunjin gasped, “The test! I'll see you all later!” 

He dashed away, leaving air bubbles in his wake. Then Chan's mother noticed you, and paused. You didn't sense fear in her at all, but instead clarity. 

“Eternal fire,” she said, mesmerized by you, “Always burning, never doused or snuffed. What's your name, demonkin?”

“YN, ma'am.”

“No, your true name. What is it?”

“Multak,” you didn't see why this mattered. 

“Shield of fire,” she said, a smile growing on her face. 

“Mama?” Chan called to her, but she seemed to be entranced. “Are you okay?”

“I've seen you before, demonkin,” she said, ignoring him. “I saw you in the stars.”

“Oh, Ma,” Chan dismissed her. “Come on, there's nothing written in the stars except old stories.” 

“You've come to help us, haven't you?” She asked you. 

“Yes, ma’am. Your nephew said it might be related to some bodies that washed up on shore.” The way she stared unnerved you. She stared as if her salvation had just arrived. 

“I'm Yejin,” she said, giving a bow. “Welcome to Hydrus, YN.”

“Thank you, ma'am.”

She breathed a sigh of relief, and you said, “Hyunjin mentioned the king has been ill lately?”

“Very,” she nodded. “Come. I think I know what's happening to him.”

She led you all behind the curtain into a work room. A room full of plants, equipment and books remained lit up from the three glowing fish in the lantern above. She took you over to a table next to the bookshelves, where she kept a leather bound book propped up against the window. On the page, you saw a drawing of a man with drowsy pale eyes, sagging skin and thin hair. He appeared to be in a daze, thin purple and red lines coming from his eye sockets and onto his skin. The book was written in a series of runes going from top to bottom. You kept the runes straight as you read them. 

“Fogginess of the Mind?” You read the text out loud.

“Also known as brain fog,” Yejin said. “It's quite self explanatory. The afflicted experiences immense memory loss, loss of time and place, and is in a state of sedation. Mind control, brainwashing and manipulation is a lot easier with Brain Fog.”

“And you think Mizu is using this on your king?”

“Yes. He must be. People in the palace say he looked more or less like this,” she pointed at the drawing. “The vacant expression, the pale eyes, and most importantly, the veins.”

“And nobody else has realized this except you?” you asked, a bit suspicious. “Only you’ve seen the king?”

“YN, really?” Chan asked, affronted. “My mother would nev-”

“-I haven’t seen him, but the queen, Calypso, has,” she answered unfazed. 

“And she told you everything she saw?”

“She did. Calypso wouldn’t lie to me about her husband’s condition. I was the first person she reached out to when he started to fade,” she said. “She told me whenever she tried talking to him, he slurred and didn’t seem to know where he was. When he saw their youngest son, Kenn, Tytos thought he was Ormand. Kenn is six. I’ll let you realize how odd that is.” 

You looked back at the book. The runic text on the side was faded, likely written by a mage or warlock hundreds of years ago. 

“I would have told the other advisors, but to do that would raise Mizu’s suspicions,” she continued. “I knew I needed to keep quiet until I had definitive proof to accuse him, and a way to heal Tytos. I’m sure you know illnesses of the mind are harder to treat than physical ones.”

The text explained that the afflicted would eventually lose all sense of self, and slowly begin a descent into insanity. You examined the drawing again. Tytos most likely lost all proper sense at the beginning, and now cannot tell one of his children from another. Your stomach churned recalling a similar incident during the war. 

“I’ve seen something similar to this before,” you said, rereading the symptoms. “During the war, I was sent to Bouyard on the east side of the country. It’s one of the larger towns, and is in a very comfortable position on a hill. It’s near impenetrable from its vantage point. It was a perfect spot for any army wanting a few days of rest. One of Nor’goth’s lieutenants, an air demon named Darnesh, came to Bouyard and demanded to be given entry. When the lord there refused, she cursed him.”

“And the curse was similar to this one?”

“Yes. He was delirious, nearly blind, muttering incoherently, and half-naked when we found him wandering in the forest. Darnesh entered his mind and manipulated him into letting her forces stay in his city. Of course, her army slaughtered everyone inside and took his family hostage, but she did much damage to our side by keeping him so subdued. When she had no use for him, she left him to battle with his own madness.” 

“How terrible,” breathed Hannah. “Did the man get any better?”

“An alchemist I knew managed to save him,” you said, “But I heard it took months for him to be himself again.” You pictured Tytos in a similar state, “I don’t know if this is the same thing, but it’s close to it. I’d need to see the king in order to be certain.”

Your throat closed up, and when you took deep breaths they came through your newly formed gills. It can’t be them. Darnesh was killed in battle. You didn’t see it yourself, but those who’d left the waters of Busan alive saw her be slain by a dragon-hybrid. 

Because if anything can truly kill a demon, it is dragon fire. 

“I need to see him,” you said again. “How can I do that?”

“Not easily,” she replied. “I'd normally suggest asking for an audience with one of the advisors, but that is impossible these days. You could’ve snuck into the palace, but Mizu has tripled the amount of guards around the place. All passages known and unknown are sealed and guarded tightly. The palace has become a fortress; nobody can leave except by Mizu’s written permission.”

“Well, people have to get in somehow,” Chan said, coming to the book. “They need food and supplies if they want all those guards to stay alive.”

“Under heavily guarded supervision,” she answered. “The only way in is through special permission or a summons.”

“And we obviously can’t wait around for Mizu to summon you,” he said. “He might end up doing that when the king is already dead.”

“I can ask for an appointment with the king,” she suggested. “I’m sure with a bit of persuasion and a secret weapon, Mizu will be more than willing to allow a brief audience.”

“Special tonic?”

“Invisibility potion,” she nodded to a cabinet of vials and bottles behind her. “I can whip one up quickly, you can drink it right before we enter the palace, and be there in secret.”

“Can’t you turn invisible?” asked Chan.

“Briefly,” you said. “A potion will be fine. I mean, they taste awful, but if it helps us get into the palace, then it can work.”

“I’ll send a request right away,” Yejin said, already moving to a table nearby. “I’m not sure when a reply will come,” she grabbed a fishbone quill and began writing on a small slip of paper, “But Sungwoo is a night owl. He’ll answer at any time.”

“Good to know,” you nodded. You looked at her books on the shelves. Perhaps the answer to the king’s illness is in one of these. “Do you have any ideas on how to cure Brain Fog?”

“Usually a clarity potion or some sort of herbal tonic can clear his mind,” she answered, folding the slip and placing it in a small pouch, “But I can’t find anything strong enough to relieve him.”

“Do you remember the spell the mage used?” asked Hannah. 

You did your best to picture the event in your mind. The young lord laid on the ground, half-crazed and muttering, while the elderly mage held a cystal above him. “He’d used a black and white stone, and mumbled this enchantment that sapped into the stone instead.” 

“A black and white stone?” Yejin said thoughtfully, “Black Tourmaline?”

“Black what?”

“Tourmaline.” She went over to the bookshelf, and scanned the shelves. “It’s meant to protect and banish negative energies. It sounds like your mage used the stone,” she pulled a book off the shelf and quickly flipped through it, “As a harvesting tool.”

“Yes!” you nodded, remembering a bit more of the ritual. “Yes, that’s exactly what he did.”

“Here!” 

Yejin showed you a drawing of a jagged black stone labeled ‘black tourmaline’. You assumed this must be the same stone, “Black tourmaline. ‘Considered the king of protective crystals, black tourmaline is believed to associated with grounding and protection…’” she turned the page, “Many magic users suggest black tourmaline in curse warding or sapping rituals. The proper incantation paired with black tourmaline will ensure your afflicted is absolved of their negative energy and relieved of their curse.’”

“Do you know where we can find it?” Chan asked his mother eagerly. “Do they sell it down here?”

“No, I’m afraid not,” she frowned, closing the book. “It’s not native to our lands.”

“But it will be to Minho,” said Hannah. “Fairies use crystals all the time. He might have one or know where to get it.”

“I can ask him when we get back home,” Chan told her. “He might know something we don't know about all of this.”

“Great!” Yejin smiled, relieved to have a solution. “I’ll give this request to the postman, and then we’ll see how our plan unfolds.”

“How soon will Sungwoo respond?”

“Soon enough. You kids enjoy yourselves in the meantime. I’ll send for you when he answers me back!”

Yejin then swam out of the room, and left the three of you alone. You picked off a book from the shelf, reading the title and wondering if it’d be of any use when Hannah caught your attention. 

“You won’t find the solution in Ma’s books,” she told you. “If she hadn’t found it by now, then it’s not in here.”

“You never know. It could be easily-”

“-Drop the book,” she insisted, taking the book from you, “And come let us show you around, YN!” Hannah beamed at you, swimming ahead out of the store. “There's loads to see here!”

Always up for an adventure, you eagerly followed her. The promise of new sights and experiences excited you, but the situation at hand hung in the back of your mind. Sources told you Darnesh died after a dragon-hybrid cut her with its flame forged sword. Those who’d been there say her body turned into wisps of smoke that clouded the air with noxious gas. When they told you what he killed her with, you understood at once. Only substances like dragon fire can truly kill a demon. Even you, a child made from flames like a dragon, was no match for their magic. 

When you needed to reforge your sword, you used dragon flame to embed your runes. Your kinfolk didn’t understand, but Zunar did. 

‘For the day he returns?’

He won’t return. Nor’goth cannot come back from where he is now. Even if he is imprisoned, The Abyss slowly but surely will drain him of life. He must be dead or dying by now. Yet, all the possibilities rushed you all at once. While Darnesh or Nor’goth cannot hurt anyone, those they taught their ways can and will. You’ve come across them in your time in the mortal realm: hyped up, arrogant humans who’d been given dark gifts and brainwashed into finishing “The Dark Lord’s work”. You finished them easily enough. 

‘You may have chained me, but you cannot chain a belief!’

“Hey,” Chan swam up beside you, “You’re not admiring the scenery. Something up?”

“Yes, Chan,” you said irritably. “Someone down here is using demon magic, and I don’t know who they are or how they got it.”

“Come on, it can’t be demon magic. It’s most likely extreme dark magic. If it was demonic, it would’ve spread, wouldn’t it? My dad said he’d seen whole regiments be cursed with pestilence.”

“Pestilence is different from this,” you shook your head. “If the king has what I think he has, it’s not contagious.”

“Well, don’t start counting chickens before they’ve hatched.”

“You’re being annoyingly calm about all of this,” you griped at him. “These are your people too!”

“It does bother me,” he stopped mid-float, “But right now we need to have some patience. I’d like to practice that patience with a drink or two and you…and, okay, Hannah too because she’s already here…” He saw your unconvinced expression and brought you closer. His fingers wrapped around your wrist until they slipped over your palm and between yours. Why did he do that? Why did you let him? “Let’s loosen up for a little bit. You do it plenty at home, and how many times in your life will you get to see the magnificent city of Hydrus?” he raised his eyebrows and smiled to convince you. 

“It is…” you hesitated, “It is beautiful here.”

“See? Now, come on,” he kept your hand in his and guided you down the street, “Hannah will probably want to show you all the jewelry and enchantment places around here. They really are incredible.” 

Hannah and Chan spent a good amount of the day showing you around Hydrus. The city truly was magnificent. It offered so many things you'd never seen before: mermaid charms and jewelry carved from gemstones and coral, small fish domesticated to be pets, books about merfolk culture and artifacts, items embedded with aquatic runes and the range of weapons sold around the city. You held a spear made entirely from leviathan bone, one of the strongest materials known to man. A woman offered you a necklace of aquamarine inlaid in silver, and another showed off a sculpture made of kelp and coral. 

“A star searcher,” Hannah told you when she saw you eyeing a square piece of glass in an astronomy store. “It can help you find any star constellation you might need. You usually use it with a guide, so you know what each star means or represents. It's not very handy in fights, but a lot of whale navigators and seers use them. Ma has one at home.” She swam closer to you, grinning teasingly, “So, what do you think of my brother?”

“What?” The twinkled star searcher kept your attention from her. 

“My brother,” she whispered. “What do you think about him?”

“He's…” 

What did you think about Chan? You did think he was good looking, and you enjoyed working with him. His easy going nature. His care for others. His insistent need to protect and defend people. You found those to be admirable qualities. Yet, you didn't know how you really felt about him. You saw him through the window looking at the street. He spoke with two men, laughing and catching up with them. His smile, wide and straight, gave the tiniest inkling of warmth in your cold body. You nearly smiled before you caught yourself. 

“He's a good man,” you finally answered, picking up an advertised star guide. 

“That's all?” She asked in disbelief. 

“I haven't known him very long,” you admitted. “I know he has a good heart, always thinks of everyone else before himself, and has a lot of leadership qualities. He'd make a great Divinity soldier.”

“Okay, yes, my brother is a good guy,” she waved off, “But I meant how you feel in terms of, well, attraction?”

“Why are you asking this?” You said, adding a soft laugh to ease the sharpness. 

“Because my brother never lets go of your hand, and smiles when he looks at you,” she pointed out.

“He’s only looking out for me. I’ve never been here before, so he doesn’t want me to get lost or eaten by a shark or something.”

She giggled, “Ah, YN…My Ma will probably say your stars will line up eventually.” 

“I passed my test! Hannah!” Hyunjin appeared in the doorway, grinning widely and giddy with excitement. He scooped her up into a hug, “I passed my test! I get to go to the next trial!”

“That's amazing!” She giggled, yelping when he spun her around.

“What test?” You asked him, putting the star searcher back on its shelf. 

“To be a whale navigator!” he let go of Hannah, “You have to go through a bunch of tests to become one, and I passed the first one!”

“Congratulations,” you said kindly. 

“Thanks,” he beamed, breathless. “We're going to celebrate! Come with us!”

“Oh I wouldn't want to-”

You didn't have a choice in the matter. Hyunjin took you ahead of both Hannah and Chan, guiding you down the crowded streets until you reached a tavern. Inside, you saw merfolk filling up tables, talking over plates of food. Hyunjin, Hannah and Chan appeared to know many of the people there; one or two stopped Chan for a brief catch-up before moving onwards. Hyunjin brought you over to a table in the middle of the room, where the people seemed to be the loudest. A young mermaid came to the table, asking for food orders, and you let your companions order for you. 

“How could they possibly cook underwater?” you asked curiously when she left. 

“Like that.” 

Chan pointed to a kitchen area behind you. An older merman stood by what appeared to be a stone grill built on top of a heating vent. Seeing the churning lava inside it, you guessed it was a heating vent from a nearby volcano or other source underneath the floor. 

“Also, magic, duh?” Hannah pointed to two women by a boiling pot: one held it with her hands, effectively heating the contents inside, while the other stirred. 

“Interesting,” you nodded. “I imagine it’s pretty salty still.”

“It’s not Wooyoung’s cooking,” Chan said, “But it’s just as good.”

“What I want to know is why are we at Rock Lobster when we can be at Scuttle’s eating fresh crab?” asked Hannah, a bit annoyed. “YN should be seeing the best Hydrus has to offer. Scuttle’s is peak-”

“-I brought us here because Scuttle’s is too quiet and fancy and a lot of elite people go there,” Hyunjin cut her off. “Nobody will overhear us here,” he glanced around the rowdy room of merfolk. He was right. “The people who saw us will say we were here, but they’ll think we’re just three relatives showing around our demon friend.”

“And why do you not want people to overhear us?” Chan asked, smirking softly as he spoke. 

“Because Mizu was at my exam.”

“What?” This caught everyone’s attention. 

“Yes, he was there.”

“What for?” Asked Hannah. 

“He told us he came to see the potential navigators,” Hyunjin said. “He mentioned something about His Majesty needing personal navigators, or whatever but that's not what struck me as weird. It's not really him, but what I saw him doing afterwards.”

You leaned in closer, “Start from the beginning.”

“Okay, so I take the test, right? I get the spear through each dummy head, and pass with flying colors. When I finished, the overseer asked all those who finished to wait outside the range yard so we don't distract anyone. I finish my test and go outside like they asked. Once I'm outside, I notice Mizu’s seahorse carriage is still there, but he'd left right after his little motivational speech. I went to the carriage-”

“-Hyunjin,” Chan cut him off, “You went to his carriage? Do you know how stupid that is? Did he see you?”

“No. He was too busy talking to someone to see me at the window. His driver was flirting with some girl, so he didn't see me either. Anyways,” he continued, “I overheard him talking to someone!”

You almost did not want to hear any more. 

“Who? Did you see them?”

“No. He was alone in the carriage, but…” Hyunjin scrunched his brow, “It was weird. He had his eyes closed and he was gripping his knees really tightly.”

“Telepathy,” you said. The waitress brought back food, but you couldn't stomach anything. “He was likely speaking to whoever he is working for. Did you hear any of the conversation?”

“Only the end bits,” he said, grabbing a blue drink. He then whispered, “He mentioned something about his plan taking longer than expected, and that with the pirates and sea snakes distracting the crown and mainlanders, the throne will be in their grasp.”

“Then he is after the crown,” Chan concluded. 

“Or the person he is answering to is,” you said, gripping the sides of your cup tightly. “You said his eyes were closed, right?”

“Yes, they were.”

“I have to ask: Was Mizu always power hungry or shady? Did he ever disagree with the other advisors or the king on certain discussions?”

“Ma said he might've not been the nicest guy at times,” Hannah answered, “But he deeply loved and respected Tytos. He wouldn't have hurt him on purpose.”

“That means this mysterious puppeteer got their hooks into someone who already showed signs of dissent,” Chan said. “Did Ma ever tell you when this started?”

“No,” she shook her head, “She never mentioned a specific time. I only remember her coming back one day and saying the king was sick, and that she wasn't allowed to see him. She only got her audience with him because she'd gone to treat the queen for stress and nerves.”

“The person controlling Tytos is likely controlling Mizu as well to an extent,” you said. “They likely promised him the throne in exchange for his help.”

“Mizu used to be a decent guy,” Chan mused. “I wonder what made him turn back on the people.”

“Ambition, power, greed, a sense of validation and attention,” you listed as you faced a terrible scenario. “The basic reasons, pretty much. Did he ever say a name or title?”

Hyunjin thought for a moment, then said, “He called them Creator.”

You nearly choked. Coughing, you felt Chan patting your back as you swallowed before anything came out onto the table. “Creator, you say?”

“Yes, why? Do you know who that is?”

“Darnesh used to consider herself a creator, because she crafted new people out of the ones she cursed,” you said, throat stinging from the cough. “But, it can't be her.”

“Then someone who followed her?”

“Possibly. A lot of demons were exiled or burned at the stake for their war crimes,” you said. “It could be any number of them who managed to keep their powers or use human vessels to contain it. If Mizu is following their orders, it makes sense that they're a former demon.”

“You can stop being a demon?” Hannah asked, unsure about your information. 

“In a way. Varaleth is the Queen of the Mar, and Shadowland lords are capable of removing a demon's powers. They do this to avoid the demon using it to escape their prison cells or hurt other people,” you explained. “Exiled demons don't have their natural gifts anymore. This demon is likely using a subsidiary version of what Darnesh used.” 

Your chest began tightening. If there is a demon going around trying to take over other mortal lands, they may be attempting to bring back their masters. First his lieutenants, and then finally Nor’goth himself. When the waitress brought out lobster tails, clam stew, crab legs and shrimp, you barely touched the delicacies. You did not want to bring up any more theories until you saw the king yourself. That was the only way you'd know what to do from there. 

A band started playing music, and Hannah and Chan took to the small dance floor by the stage. You and Hyunjin sat at the table, watching the siblings have their own dance off with you two clapping for the winners. 

“It scares you a little, doesn’t it?” Hyunjin asked, picking at one of the shrimp in the bowl. 

“What does?”

“The thought that a demon might be trying to stir up trouble again,” he said. “You grew very quiet when I mentioned a possible third person involved.”

“It…” you rolled a crab leg between your fingers as you said, “It does. I spent years of the war trying to bring down Nor’goth and his circle of bigoted zealots. I nearly lost my life a few times trying to do it. If any of them ever returned or their work was picked up by another, all the fighting and loss we went through will have been in vain.”

“So, you really did fight in the war,” he said. “Aunt Yejin said she saw an eternal flame flying down into the water from the sky. She told me the flame burned down fields of infected, sickly coral and kelp and up from the ashes they came back strong.” He grinned at you, thin eyes glinting playfully, “She thinks you’re that flame because you’re a fire demon and because of your name.” 

You snorted amusedly, “She reminds me of my mentor.”

“Your mentor?”

You nodded, “Back home. His name was Zunar. He was one of the overseers in the range. His job was to form little underlings into strong warriors of The Mar, and he was good at it. He used to have premonitions and read things in his flames.” You chuckled recalling his most recent one, “He once told me that my fires would burn away all the wickedness in the world; that one day my fire will burn bright and I’d vanquish the one who couldn’t be killed.”

“Nor’goth,” Hyunjin said, “He predicted you’d kill the demon lord and bring back light into the world.”

“Lucky guess,” you murmured, watching Chan spin Hannah around. 

“Or that he truly had a gift and saw your destiny.”

“Then in that case I already fulfilled my destiny,” you replied. “What does one do after they’ve completed the objective fate gave them?”

Hyunjin scooted closer to you, “Enjoy the life left to you.” 

He slipped his hand into yours and guided you to the dance floor. Music flowed easily through Hyunjin, whose body immediately swayed and twirled to the steel drums and maracas playing. You took in the sight for a brief moment. Scales spanning over his slim torso and arms, they shined this way and that whenever he moved. The scales on his cheek bones, jaw, and forehead stood out against his skin and sharpened his features. He was beautiful. Hyunjin did not need music or singing to make himself the most enchanting creature in the room. Sirens are a rare sight, often living in the deepest parts of the ocean. You’d gladly take in Hyunjin as long as possible. 

“Stop staring and enjoy life, demonkin,” Hyunjin teased, pulling you towards him. “Or is that hard for a demon to do?”

“Not for me,” you brushed into him, “Not when I have the chance to see a real siren without losing my life.”

He snickered, “I’ve known a human or two who had the pleasure and not lived to tell the tale. But you?” He drew you closer, voice dropping so only you heard him, “I think I could make an exception.”

You laughed through your nose, unable to take your eyes off him, “Have the pleasure and not meet a painful end? Sign me up.” 

Hyunjin may have been of the sea, cold-blooded and built for freezing temperatures, but when he kissed you, it warmed every muscle in your body. Full lips massaged against yours until they opened, and locked right onto them. Chills slipped up your spine with his hand, traveling over your back to the nape of your neck where he held you as you kissed. Your own hands slid over smooth scales and into his flowing black hair. Mortals never understood how precious love and romance can be; they take it for granted in so many ways. In The Mar, there’s so little room for it. The first person you ever kissed happened to be a water fairy with bright eyes and pink cheeks. Ever since then, you savored every kiss you earned, received or stolen in private moments. 

“It’s a shame you came for the king,” Hyunjin said against your lips, eyes closed, “Because you should be coming for me.”

“Why can’t I have both?” you replied, licking his lower lip before kissing him one more time. 

“Greedy,” he chuckled in between kisses. 

“I am a demon, darling.”

The two of you danced and kissed longer. You found yourself drawn in by his natural charms, his kisses like honey on your tongue and words lulling you into his trap. You might’ve stayed there all night if someone hadn’t touched your shoulder. Turning, dazed from Hyunjin, you saw Chan. Your mind instantly sobered at his eyes, delighted by the atmosphere around him. Seeing him in the glowing lights, you couldn’t stop yourself from remembering the shirtless Chan from yesterday. The family merfolk genes proved to be a curse upon you and a blessing for them. 

“We, um, should go now,” Chan said, not meeting your eyes. “My Ma’s probably waiting on us to get back.”

You saw the lights of Hydrus begin burning brighter as night came over the ocean. All the warmth Hyunjin created left you in seconds. An empty feeling filled your stomach as you kissed the siren goodbye and left with Chan.

“What was that all about?” Chan asked, neither upset or disgusted. He sounded more curious than anything.

“Psh, like you never kissed a stranger before,” you chuckled, rolling your eyes.

“I actually haven’t,” he admitted to you. “All the girls I kissed were girls I knew.”

“And I bet you kissed loads,” you said, “A handsome halfling like you must’ve attracted all the girls at school.”

He laughed, pink tingling his ears, “So, you think I’m handsome?”

“Even a blind woman would think you were handsome, Chan,” you said, thanking the gods that he couldn’t see your soft smile. “You've got brains, brawn and beauty, and small town girls like the sort of guy. They’re like the heroes in fairy tales.”

“You do too,” he told you.

“I do what?”

“Have brains, brawn and beauty,” he answered. “If you knew the effect you had on certain people, you wouldn’t need magic to defend yourself.” 

“Pfft, sure. I doubt Mizu will find me so beautiful he lets me come in and ruin his plans.”

“I didn’t say everyone, just…certain people.”

You reached the apothecary, and you tried not thinking about Chan and how his hand feels in yours. Hannah’s question about how you felt about her brother came back when you saw Chan talking to his mother. He’ll likely suggest coming with you. He always wanted to be your back up.

“I received the acceptance quite quickly,” Yejin told you. “He says he can get us an audience with the king while the queen distracts Mizu. He is…very fond of her.”

“I bet his boss said he could have her if they succeed in their plan,” you snorted. “Hyunjin told us he overheard Mizu talking to someone called The Creator. Does this mean anything to you?”

Yejin considered this as she rifled through bottles on her shelves. “No, nothing immediate,” she said. “But, it could always be a reference to his master.”

“I believe his master may be an exiled demon,” you told her. “A lot of my kin were exiled after the war; this may be someone who followed Dranesh. I will need to see the king for myself to be certain, but if we have a demon here, there will be only one way to defeat them.”

“And how would we do that? There are no dragons underwater, YN.”

“You said I am an eternal flame, right?”

“I saw it in my visions, yes.”

“Well, my magic is not the only weapon I have,” you smirked. 

Pulling your sword from your back, you held it with both hands. The fire magic runes etched along the sides glowed orange and yellow upon being unsheathed. You swung it around a few times, but since it was underwater it only steamed and glowed. 

“When the war ended,” you explained, “My blade had broken after stabbing it into Nor’goth’s chest. When I went to reforge it, I used dragon fire instead of our usual magical elements.”

“How did you get close enough to a dragon to do that?” she asked, curiously. 

“Our blacksmith had recently acquired a baby dragon, and he used it to forge new armor for the warriors,” you sheath your sword. “I forged mine in dragon fire for the next time I fought a demon.”

“What made you think you’d ever fight a demon again?” Chan asked. 

‘You may banish me to The Abyss, you may take my power and my heart, but my children will continue my work! You will never be rid of me!’

“Well, there are demons still in the world, and I did it in case I ran into them,” you shrugged. 

Chan sensed your hesitancy, but didn’t say anything about it. “Sungwoo replied to your request, Ma?” 

“He did,” she nodded. She picked off a bottle from the shelf, “He said he can get me a few minutes with the king. We won’t have long before Mizu interrupts us, but you’ll at least be able to make a proper diagnosis.”

“Works for me,” you said. “When do they expect us?”

“Now, actually. Here,” she gave you the bottle, “Drink this when we reach the palace. It will make you completely invisible.”

“Sounds easy enough,” you replied, studying the bottle. 

“But, make sure you stay away from the sharks.”

“Sharks?”

“Mizu recently tamed a few sharks to act as watch dogs,” she said. “If they sense you, they will kill you.”

The idea of getting horrendously bitten by a shark crossed your mind. But, it’d be worth it to see the king. Yejin suggested you’d leave sooner than later. She told you she’d be meeting Sungwoo first, and then she’d be taken to the king. Calypso promised to keep Mizu occupied so he had no reason to check on his victim. As you made to get into a seahorse-driven carriage, Chan reached for your wrist. 

“Be careful,” he said. 

“I always am,” you replied playfully, “See you later, handsome.”

Inside the carriage, you hoped the silence between you and Yejin stayed as such, but she had other ideas. 

“You fear his return, don’t you?” 

Her question stunned you for a moment. You thought to lie to her. She wouldn’t understand if you explained yourself. She wouldn’t understand the nightmares or fears that creep over your neck whenever it comes up. Every nerve in your body bundled in your stomach thinking about him. 

“He’s banished to The Abyss,” you said, clearing your throat. “He can’t hurt anyone anymore.”

“But people who followed him still roam this realm,” she said. “If they tried hard enough, they could restore him to his full power and we’d be thrown into war once again. More death. More devastation. More-”

“-He won’t come back because I’ll put my sword in him before that happens,” you snapped. Your heart thumped hard in your chest, going up to your throat where you struggled to breathe. “He was…It was…” you gripped the carriage door handle. Your skin stretched tight over your knuckles and you couldn’t uncurl them. 

“A hero’s burden,” she said, touching your free hand. Her hand was cold from the blood in her body, it still comforted you. “I did not witness the final stand, but I can still imagine it left its mark on you.”

You remembered Nor’goth’s orange eyes, mocking you from afar and eager to take on your challenge. Sweat stuck your shirt to your body, and you still felt the weight of your armor on your shoulders. The stench of the dead and decaying filled your nose, smoke and fire lingering in the air as you threw fireball after fireball at him. He’d laughed at your weak attempts, but that was your whole plan. Distract him long enough for the Orc and Elf forces to attack. Except, the large crossbows the Orcs crafted jammed, and were destroyed by Nor’goth’s forces; the Elves managed to shield and heal you when Nor’goth’s claws slashed through your chest, but became overrun by goblin loyalists. You touched your chest, rubbing out the phantom pain there. It eventually became just you and him. Bleeding, bruised and drained of magic, you stood on the highest point of Incheon's ancient tree, The Great Oak, and faced Nor’goth head on. Dodging bolts of shadow magic, you used an old branch to reach him from above. 

“I wasn’t the only one there,” you excused, not looking at her. 

“But you were the one to vanquish him. Friends of mine told me they saw you standing on the topmost level of The Great Oak with your flaming sword burning brightly.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. The swirling winds meant to douse your flames only fanned them hotter. They almost carried you to him, blade in both hands as you stabbed it right into his heart. 

“Oh no, I’m so sorry, YN,” Yejin immediately said, sensing your tension. “I didn't mean to-”

“-He taunted me the entire time,” you said, voice unsteady as you spoke. “He told me that I’d regret not joining him. He said I was strong, but not strong enough. I almost believed him, but then…”

“But then?”

“I thought of my mentor Zunar and all my loved ones back home. I thought of the friends I’d made in the mortal world, and saw the beauty it held. Nor’goth wanted to corrupt it. His plans would not be contained to just mortals. He’d eventually try enslaving the other realms as well. If I didn’t kill him, he would’ve destroyed everything good.” 

“Your love for humanity outweighed your fear,” she sounded proud of it. “I think that’s quite admirable. You remind me of my son.”

“Chan?”

She shook her head, “No, Lucas.”

“Chan never mentioned a younger brother,” you said.

“He doesn't talk about him often, but,” she let out a sigh, “He was my youngest. The sweetest boy you ever saw.”

You thought back to the baby photo and the medals in Jack's house. “Did he fight too?”

She nodded. “He died in Busan, fighting alongside his brothers in arms,” she played with a ring around on her finger. “He said he felt it was his duty to serve his country and that he wanted to help others. He was  a field physician on the front lines. They told us he'd been killed pulling people out of a burning wagon; it exploded when a goblin threw dynamite into it, and my son was trying to save those left alive. Chan…He doesn't talk about it. He and Lucas were very close.”

“It couldn't have been easy to deal with. I'm sorry that happened.”

She grinned appreciatively. She peered out the window once again, and saw the stone palace ahead. “Ah, we’re almost there,” she said to you. “Once again, Multak, you are running straight into the beast’s jaws.” 

“That’s what the blade is for.”

The two of you shared a smile. It was in her smile that you saw Chan. Wide, bright and full of mirth each time it flashed at you. You waited until carriage came to a full stop to pop open the bottle and drink. Within seconds, a warm tingling sensation started at your fingers and toes and gradually made its way over both skin and clothes. You looked at your hands to see nothing but the carriage seat and floor. 

“This is magnificent, Yejin,” you beamed at her, though she couldn’t see you. “I could never have achieved this on my own.”

“Remember what I said,” she said quickly as guards came to her door, “Stay away from the sharks and remain as quiet as possible.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The palace guard opened her door, and a slight, withered merman floated on the bottom steps. He wore a deep red vest with gold buttons down the front; a seashell pin made of pure gold shone on his breast. An advisor, you assumed. 

“Yejin,” he said in a high voice, “So good to see you, my lady.”

“And you, Sungwoo,” she replied, getting out of the carriage. “Forgive me for calling upon you so late.”

“There is nothing to forgive,” he said, offering his arm which she took. “Considering the current political climate, I believe there is always time to discuss any possible solutions.”

You waited until the guard shut the door to swim through the opposite side. When the guards returned to their posts, you quickly lunged towards Yejin and Sungwoo before they could close the doors. 

Like other buildings in the city, the palace was a reconstructed and repurposed mansion. Tall stone walls inlaid with gold seams were occasionally broken and fixed with patches of coral. The different coral reefs and shelves brought splashes of color to the eroded walls, and covered up large cracks in walls or windows. Inside, you saw more glowing fish swimming around giant bowls meant to act as light fixtures, bringing warm light into the palace. You imagined under Tytos’s rule the palace might’ve been lively and full of people. 

“The palace has truly changed,” you heard Yejin say a few feet ahead of you. “Remember when the children used to swim all over the palace, and drove their nurses insane?”

Sungwoo laughed, “Ah, yes I do. This place was once a place of life and laughter. Tytos never believed in closing himself off from his people; they were once free to come and go. It’s a shame the place has become so…quiet.”

You found this conversation strange. Surely, they both already know all of this, so why say it out loud? 

“How is Calypso?” Yejin asked him as you followed them up the stairs. 

“More or less the same. The other advisors and I have tried assuring her that His Majesty will eventually make it through this terrible illness,” he said. “Ever since the death of Ormand-”

“-May the waves be kind-”

“-May the waves be kind,” he repeated. “Ever since he passed, she has spiraled into a deeper depression. She doesn’t leave her chambers, and hardly eats. The children are confined to their rooms, and rarely see her anymore. Mizu-”

“-Tries his best to comfort her, I assume,” Yejin said right as she passed a guard. “His top concern has always been the royal family.”

“Calypso in particular,” Sungwoo sighed. “I hope we see the end of this struggle, and get back to what truly matters: Hydrus.”

“As do I.”

They brought you to a chamber at the end of a hallway. It appeared to be a sitting room with the usual amenities available. While you supposed there’d usually be someone in here, now it remained untouched and unoccupied. Yejin sighed sadly. 

“Where is she?” she asked Sungwoo, concerned but dreading the answer. 

“Exactly as I’d told you in my letter: she is entertaining Mizu at the moment,” he said. “But I cannot guarantee he will stay there for long. You know he has eyes and ears everywhere in this palace.”

“Then we must be quick about this,” she nodded. “Take me to him.” 

You waited until Sungwoo opened the double doors and Yejin went through them to shoot yourself forward. It was Yejin’s horrified gasp that brought you further into the bed chamber. 

“As you can see, my lady,” Sungwoo began, “His condition is worsening.” 

The man Hyunjin described to you did not match the one sitting before you. On a stone bed near the balcony windows was a frail, thin man with long white hair. The silvery hair must’ve been lustrous at one point, but now thinned immensely and left red sores on his scalp. Sun-kissed skin lost most of its pigment, and lean muscles turned into flat bones and sagging skin. Yet, it was his eyes you noticed the most. You never knew the color of the king’s eyes, but you knew they weren’t pale with blindness. A breath caught in your throat when you saw the deep purple veins extending from them like rivers on a map. Cracked, dry lips parted in each rattling breath, a rambling stream of words barely reached your ears. Yes, this was worse than simple Brain Fog. 

“Oh by the gods,” Yejin cried, hands over her mouth. “It is worse than I thought.”

“He has no appetite for food or drink,” Sungwoo said. “He can hardly see anything beyond his own delusions. The affliction is progressing, Yejin. He can hardly tell one person from another, which I suspect makes him easier to influence and control. He doesn’t even know his eldest son is dead, and he can’t distinguish his wife from other women.”

You went around the other side of the bed, and hovered over the king. A foul stench seemed to come from his very pores; his yellow teeth and dark gums showed signs of his body giving into his illness. This is not brain fog. Brain fog only affects the mind and the body. The young lord you remembered resembled a skeleton when they found him. Tytos is well on his way to a similar situation. Tears blurred your vision as you touched his bare chest. Feeling bone right against your fingers, you sensed his heart beat slower than the average man. His lungs struggled to breathe; he would need assistance with it soon. 

Mizu and his “Creator” are slowly killing Tytos. 

“Please,” Sungwoo pleaded, “Please tell me there is something you can do, Stranger.”

You perked your head up, stunned and frozen in place. 

“I cannot see you clearly, but Yejin mentioned she’d bring an ally,” he whispered, leaning over the king to speak. “She mentioned that you might know of a cure for this wretched curse.”

Yejin nodded her encouragement, then you said, “It is exactly what I feared it’d be, Advisor. This is not simple brain fog; it is something much deeper. If we do not act quickly, the king may die.”

“Do you know how to stop it?”

“Yejin and I have our theories,” you said, “And I think it may work with a bit more research. I have a friend on the mainland who is much more knowledgeable in dark magic than myself.”

You could tell Sungwoo expected a more solid answer, but he still nodded his understanding. “It’s better than grasping in the dark,” he said, standing up straight again. 

“But, I promise you, Advisor, that we will cure the king.”

The king groaned at the sound of your voice. “Arielle?” he croaked, "Is that you?”

You hesitated, body frozen beside the bed. Looking at Yejin and Sungwoo, they looked at one another in confusion. Then, you said, “Yes, Papa. It’s me.”

“Oh, sweet angelfish,” he wheezed, “How good to hear your…your voice. I…I brought you a seashell from Oceania.”

“It’s beautiful, Papa,” you replied. “Thank you.”

“Where is-Where is Ormand, darling?”

“Ormand is gone, Papa,” you heard Sungwoo gasp, but you continued. “He died, remember?”

Tytos furrowed his brow, then you saw tears fall from the corners into his temples, “Ormand…Not Ormand!” he sobbed, “My sweet boy! My son! Where is he?!”

“He’s with the waves, Papa,” you touched his hand, feeling the skin smooth like stones. “He’s at peace.”

“Ormand!” he cried, “Where is Ormand? Take me to him!”

His bones cracked as he sat up from his bed. “Your Majesty, please,” Sungwoo kept him from rising, “You must rest. You will see Ormand later.”

While Yejin calmed him with a tonic she’d brought with her, you grasped the king’s hand. “Papa,” you called him, “Papa, what was Ormand’s favorite color?”

“Huh?” he stared in your direction, confused and unfocused. “His what?”

“Favorite color,” you repeated. “Mama wants his shroud to be his favorite color, but none of us remember.” You shared a glance with Yejin, who is as sharp as her son. “Do you?”

Tytos sunk deep into his thoughts, brow furrowed and lips trembling. You saw him struggle for the answer. “Orange,” he croaked, “The color of the sunset. He loved going up to the surface at that time to watch the sunset. He used to tell me it was…was the most beautiful color imaginable.” You saw tears brim his drooping eyes, “Oh, my sweet boy…My children…Where are they? Where is Calypso?” 

Yejin came forward, touching his other hand, “They are well, my king. They think only of your health.”

The sound of doors slamming open came from the next room, and quickly Sungwoo rested the king back into his bed. You stepped away towards the shadows where the guards walking in did not see you. Behind them, a merman came into the room. Crimson spikes and fringes went along his back, sticking up and jutting outwards. They matched his red and purple tail, and the scales spread along his arms, neck and stomach. He didn’t wear a crown, but the thick necklace made of golden doubloons played as a symbol of high status. Crystal eyes narrowed at the sight of Yejin beside the king. 

“Lady Yejin,” his raspy voice gave you chills, “I was not expecting to see you here so late.”

You then saw the guards following him guided sharks in by leather harnesses. Small and gray, their sharp teeth still kept you up against the wall. 

“I came to visit His Majesty,” she said, head up high and hands clasped together, “Calypso has been very worried about him.”

“As she told me herself.”

With a snap of his fingers, the two guards with the sharks began moving about the room. You realized then Mizu must have been tipped off about Yejin’s visit. Keeping yourself flat against the wall, you heard your heart beating in your chest. 

“As you can see, Lady Yejin,” he continued, “His Majesty’s illness has progressed far beyond your expertise. The most we can do is ease his pain and suffering until the waves take him from us.”

“Nothing would please you more,” Yejin seethed. 

“Oh, my dear lady, how can you say such things? My heart hangs the lowest out of us all for the king.”

One of the sharks came within a few feet of you, and it turned its head in your direction. You slowly took side steps, hoping to get out of its range before anyone else noticed. 

“His Majesty needs his rest, as Advisor Sungwoo knows,” Mizu said. “If you’d kindly follow me, then we can discuss arrangements for…for his passing.”

“The king can still be saved yet, Mizu,” Sungwoo said. “We must not give up hope.”

“I hate to say that I believe all hope is lost. The king is not in his right-”

“-Arielle,” Tytos cried, “Arielle, my angelfish, where have you gone?”

“You see? The Princess is not even with us, and he cries for her.”

Tytos looked in your direction, reaching out to you. “Arielle, tell your mother…tell her he loves sunsets.”

Mizu paused, watching the king closely and comprehension came over his pale, pointed face. “Let us leave His Majesty to rest. He has had a long day of treatments.”

“What treatments?” Yejin asked, affronted as a guard started leading her and Sungwoo away. 

“The usual ones…”

Mizu began listing various medical treatments that he likely hadn’t administered. The shark who’d sensed you pulled on its leash to reach you. Panic struck your stomach and went up your chest as you went along the walls. 

“What is it, girl?” the guard asked his companion. “Do you smell something?”

You found a potted seaweed plant, and hoped it might mask your scent as you stepped behind it. The shark kept its black eyes on the pots.

“Probably just a fish, Poseidon,” his comrade said to him. “You know these sharks. They sense a little blowfish and they lose their senses. Come on, before Mizu gets upset.”

The two guards left, the latter having to tug on the shark’s leash to make it move. Once the doors shut, you moved out of the plants. On the bed, the king muttered incoherent words and continued falling into a daze. 

“Make sure Lady Yejin and Lord Sungwoo are escorted back home,” you heard Mizu in the next room. “Then post guards at these doors. We do not need anymore people disturbing the king’s rest.”

The moment you heard the doors open again, you swam away from the bed. Mizu entered the room alone this time. He sucked his teeth when he saw the king mumbling and groaning.

“Ah look what they did,” he hissed. “All that hard work…”

Standing by the plants, you watched Mizu lean over the king. He rubbed his hand over the king’s forehead, his thumb pressing to the center. In small circles, you heard muffled words being said as he rubbed the spot in circles. The bits of clarity the king might have faded away as Mizu strengthened the curse again. He went back to remaining nearly silent.

“The Creator will have you soon, Your Majesty,” Mizu said disdainfully. “She will have you soon.”

You watched him leave the room, and heard the soft click of a latch on the other side. Locked in the bedroom with Tytos, you returned to his bedside and examined where Mizu touched him. Black ash contrasted against his pale skin, starting from the center and reaching the bridge of his nose. You didn’t dare touch it in case the powder was contagious. But yes, this was Dranesh’s curse. You knew if it progressed further, the king would surely die. You couldn’t let that happen.

“I will find a way to cure you, Your Majesty,” you whispered to him, pushing strands of hair from his face. “I promise.”

This time the king didn’t respond to you. Not able to leave through the door, you went for the balcony left open. You’d circle around and meet Yejin back at the shop. 

You had work to do. 

****

You and Chan decided you had enough of Hydrus for one day, and with night fast approaching, you returned home. Hyunjin and Hannah insisted on going back with you. 

“Do you really think Minho can help?” Hyunjin asked you as the transport whale took you away from the city. “Chan says he’s the best with magic.”

“He is,” you said. “I’m sure we’ll find the crystal and figure out how to cure the king. Now that we know what’s going on, we should be able to do it.” 

You looked out into the water. The sunset skies above broke through the first few feet before your surroundings gradually darkened. You did your best not to imagine what predators might be swimming about near your ship. Kim Jennie had been enchanting them to attack people they come across. Another part of your theory appeared correct: the pirates are creating distractions and threats to lessen Tytos’s approval amongst the people. Soon, they’ll turn on the king they think left them defenseless. A warm hand then touched yours on the whale bump. 

“There’s nothing out there,” he comforted you. 

“How do you know?”

“Because what you think is out there doesn’t come up this close to the surface,” he nodded upwards. “We keep our routes higher up to avoid them and also for the whales to breathe.” 

“I see.”

You felt him watching you. His eyes, still twinkling like stars, examined you in the half-light of the moon. When you looked at him, his black hair blew back from his face, billowing in the waves flowing through them; the starfish and pearls on his head gleamed like the scales on his face. You thought about your kiss in the tavern, how it warmed your insides. 

“It’s a shame, you know,” you began, “That we met like this.”

“Like how?” he drew closer to you, Chan was too busy talking to Hannah to notice. 

“In an investigation into the merfolk crown and the possibility of war,” you said. “Though, I’m sure if we met another way, I’d be a skeleton at the bottom of the ocean.”

Hyunjin laughed, “Oh, I wouldn’t eat someone as lovely as you. At least,” he smirked, “Not in a way you wouldn’t like. It’s not every day a siren meets a demon, especially a fire demon at that. One of my friends met a fire demon once,” his fingers brushed over your knuckles, and his eyes glanced down to your lips, “She said it was an interesting experience.” 

“I can imagine sirens are more so than us.” You couldn’t help noticing his pouty lips, full with a prominent cupid’s bow. “Maybe next time I’m in town, you can show me around? I’d love to see all of what Hydrus has to offer.” 

“Perhaps if you hadn’t been busy saving the king, I could have shown you the absolute best.”

“It was for the case, pretty,” you pouted. “I am being paid for this gig, you know.”

“Well,” he leaned in until he was centimeters from kissing you, “Next time I see you, I’ll make you forget about your cases completely.”

Your body tingles with anticipation from the closeness. You understood then why sailors fall for sirens and their deadly songs. He brushed his plush lips to yours, then locked you in for a kiss. 

“I hope that’s a promise.”

“A promise, and I never make empty ones either.”

***

A/N: thank you so much for reading! Things are only just starting for this gang, and it's a rollercoaster lol please like and reblog, thanks <3

Episode 1 < > Episode 2.A

#stray kids #stray kids fanfiction #bangchan #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #chan stray kids #hyunjin stray kids #stray kids fanfic

[clangenrising]

Month 7 - Leaffall

Scorch laid in wait. 

The night crept on, sunset bleeding into twilight and then descending into darkness. Her stomach growled but she stayed stock still, except for her tail, which twitched impatiently. She had stayed still for longer than this and she had gone without food for even longer. 

This was important. 

She’d been careless. Sloppy. She should have known better. She wasn’t going to make that mistake again.

As the stars came out and the last dregs of warmth were sapped out of the ground, she saw him. He padded along the same scent trail she had followed to get here, humming idly to himself. Scorch slipped out from under the fallen long she had been waiting by and leapt up on it, raising her tail and glaring imperiously down at him.

“You’re far from home, aren’t you, Ghost?” 

He stopped in his tracks, tail bristling as he rose up on his toes instinctively. When his eyes found hers, his jaw fell open. 

“Scorch?” he asked dumbly. 

She narrowed her eyes and crouched low over the tree trunk to hiss, “Surprised? Imagine how I feel.” 

Ghost squared his shoulders and squinted back at her. “I wouldn’t have expected you to stay so close to the city.” 

“No, you wouldn’t have, would you?” she sneered. “But you never were very bright so don’t be too hard on yourself.” She nearly grinned as he scowled. It felt good to use her tongue as a weapon again. 

“What do you want?” he glowered, tail starting to lash.

“I want you to go home and never come back,” she spat. “This Clan is mine,” and as she said it she arched her back and raised her bottlebrush tail, “and if you had any sense you would stay as far away from your beloved Smokyrose as you can.” She scoffed as the mediator’s name fell from her lips, laying the disdain on thick. Ghost’s teeth flashed under the moonless sky as she did. 

“So that’s where you’ve been! You joined this RisingClan and what? Are you planning to bring your savage warriors back to the city? Or… or what?”

Scorch felt her own blood boil at that remark. “You idiot!” she snapped. “I want nothing to do with Razor and his city anymore, that’s my point! If you keep coming around here you’re going to draw their attention and he will stain these fields with their blood.” Ghost’s face darkened and she continued. “Surely, you’re smart enough to have seen that? Or do you just not care? I suppose that would make it easier for you to forget about your most recent conquest.” She scoffed again, tail lashing, and sat up straight to look down her nose at him again. She still couldn’t believe it, Smokyrose and Him - well, she could. Smokyrose was entirely too trusting and sweet. She would have had no defenses against Ghost and his tricks. Perhaps she had just expected more of him although she wasn’t sure why.

Ghost, to his credit, surprised her when he growled, “Don’t pretend you know how I feel about her. I’m really considering being there for her and the kits this time.” 

Scorch scoffed again and he bristled. “Then you really are stupid. If you really love her, you’ll leave and never come back. Even if Razor spares her, she’ll never forgive you if you bring him down on her Clanmates and you know it.” Ghost looked over his shoulder, back towards the camp where Smokyrose was surely settling in for the night. Scorch narrowed her eyes and jumped down to shove her muzzle in his face and get his attention again. 

“Think this through,” she whispered fiercely. “She’ll be fine without you. They always are. But if you keep coming back here, or if you disappear suddenly, cats will come looking. And if they find this place they will take it and they will slaughter anyone who stands in their way. Trust me.” They stood there, nose to nose for a tense moment, before he looked away darkly.

“Fine,” he said. “You won’t see me again.” 

“Good,” she purred, planting an intimate lick on his cheek. He stiffened underneath it and it almost felt like she had fallen into a moment from a different time. She savored it and the power she held there - their bodies close, their breath mingling in the cool of night - and whispered in his ear, “because if I do see you again, I’ll kill you myself.” And with that she slid past him and started back toward the camp. She didn’t look back to gauge his reaction. She only hoped with every desperate white knuckled hope inside her that he listened.

#clan gen #clangen #warrior cats #warrior cats oc #warriors #warriors oc #clangenrising #clangen oc #clan gen oc #Scorchplume #Ghost #oohooohoo #excited to see how folks react to this one

[the-californicationist]

Good Fences (Fluffuary #08)

FEB08: Love Letters

John’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He was staked out in the middle of the desert with the 141, keeping an eye on the Konni warehouse they were about to hit. His mind should have been on the mission, but all he could think about was his little lover waiting for him at home. 

Feeling his phone vibrating in his pocket gave him an almost Pavlovian response. He knew it was her; he’d set the ringtone specifically so. His breath hitched in his chest, his heart raced, and his hand itched to reach into his pocket to check his notifications. The captain felt like an addict, but he didn’t care. He was hooked.

He sat down in the small alcove next to his gear and unlocked his cell. The red notification icon on his email taunted him. Before he opened the email, he checked over his shoulder to make sure no one would see the contents. 

Dear John,

Just wanted to send you a message to let you know to expect three charges on your credit card. I paid your water bill, your gas bill, and I accidentally bought a movie on your Amazon Prime. I guess I forgot to log you out after our last movie night together. I have a whole week’s worth of movies for us to watch when you get back. Been keeping a list of the good ones. 

I hope you’re doing well. I know you can’t always respond, but I miss you and I’m thinking about you all the time. It feels like you’re thinking about me, too, and I’m choosing to believe that it’s true. Stay safe. 

Yours. xoxo

Over his shoulder, John felt Gaz’s eyes on his message, and he clicked the screen off before shoving the phone back in his pocket. 

“Gettin’ updates from that neighbor girl, huh, Cap?” His sergeant quipped. 

Ghost smiled from across the small enclosure,

“He’s been glued to that phone like he’s waitin’ on a call from the bloody queen herself.”

“Perhaps we should all mind our own business, then,” Price bristled. 

“Did his lass send another message?” Johnny popped his head out of the doorway, talking around his toothbrush.

“Aye,” Ghost nodded, “But he’d like you not to notice, Sergeant.”

“Simon…” Price warned, hissing his name through his teeth. 

“Oh, c’mon, Cap’n,” Soap begged, emerging from the room, “Show us her wee photo again. She looked so bonnie…”

Price rolled his eyes and took out his phone, opening his lock screen to show Soap his background photo. It was one she had taken of herself on her porch, showing off a new plant she’d “rescued” from the home goods store. She did indeed look quite fit, the captain thought to himself, gazing upon the photo with no small amount of longing. 

“Jaysus,” Soap whistled, “We better rush through this fuckin’ op, boys. The captain has somewhere wayyyy more important to be.” 

The young sergeant clapped his commander on the shoulder, ribbing him supportively, laughing a bit at Price’s obvious embarrassment. 

John waited for all the nonsense to die down before opening his email to reply:

Hey love, 

Shouldn’t be too long now. Thanks for taking care of things while I’m gone. Don’t worry about the Prime. Buy all the movies you like. In fact, you should get yourself something nice from me. It’d make me feel like I was there taking care of you. 

I miss you so much, and you’re bloody fucking right about me thinking of you. It’s literally all I can do these days, and you’re always on my mind. Stay safe, pretty girl. 

Yours. xxxx

John sent the message and fixed his eyes back on the warehouse. He stared into the battleground with a renewed purpose. The sergeant was right. He had much more important things waiting for him at home, and he was in a hurry to get back to her.

Check out the schedule here.

AO3 Link

#the californicationist does fluff #fluffuary 2024 #fluffuary #john price fluff #john price #captain john price #captain price #john price x reader #john price x you #captain price x reader #captain price x you #captain john price x reader #captain john price x you #cod #cod fanfiction #call of duty #call of duty fanfiction #cod mw2 #cod mwii

[peachdues]

Tell Me to Stop — Final Teaser (Kyojuro x F! Ice Hashira Reader)

Final teaser!

As I said in an earlier post, the final part to Tell Me to Stop is hella long and I’m almost ready for editing. But I wanted to give a final teaser, as a treat — one that shows where things were between Y/N and Kyo and where they are now post-Entertainment District.

I’ve had some complaints about my characterization of Kyojuro, but I just want to remind people that this takes place in an AU where he survives Mugen — and is traumatized. That plays a big role in this story, so if it’s not your cup of tea, that’s fine!

CW: none really. Flashbacks are in italics.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

“Rengoku!” Y/N was startled, taking a step back in surprise at the sight of the Flame Pillar.

“Y/L/N.” The man who once reminded her of the sun nodded in greeting, his face impassive and his voice detached.

“I am happy to see you in good health.” His formality was foreign to her; he’d never used that cold, detached manner of speaking to her, not once since she’d caught him staring at her right before the commencement of Final Selection.

—————————————————————————

“Ice Pillar Y/L/N!” His sunny voice boomed, and Y/N groaned. She’d just gotten her migraine to calm down.

“Rengoku,” she nodded politely, as her comrade came to stand beside her, all smiles and warmth.

“It’s been a while, Y/L/N! I was beginning to forget how you look when you roll your eyes at me.” He laughed, and Y/N scowled.

“Perhaps I’ll pay to have my photograph taken, Rengoku. That way, you can carry a reminder with you wherever you go.”

Rengoku turned to her, an eyebrow raised in surprise at her willingness to engage with his banter so quickly. “If that’s the case, Y/N, I’d prefer to have one of you smiling. It would do well to keep me warm on those cold nights away from home.”

—————————————————————————

“I heard you were called away on another mission— some train?” Y/N asked him as they strolled through the Master’s garden following their meeting.

“Yes, we’ve unfortunately lost a number of slayers. Perhaps it’s an upper rank!” The Flame Pillar responded jovially, but he stopped in front of Y/N when he saw her frown.

“What is it?” His voice was gentle, and Y/N shook her head, focusing her eyes on the blooming wisteria saplings that had been planted.

A warm finger curled under her chin and tilted her face up until her eyes clashed with pools of golden ore. “My dear Ice Pillar, are you worried for me?” He was smirking, and his thumb lightly caressed the underside of her jaw.

Y/N gingerly removed his hand from her face, though she did not let it go right away. “You are the Flame Hashira, Rengoku. If anyone is capable of defeating an Upper Rank, it most certainly is you.”

Rengoku smiled broadly at her, his hand nearly grazing her own. “For someone whose prowess lies in ice breathing, Y/L/N, you sure know how to start fires.”

Under any other circumstance, she would have changed the subject, or not said anything at all. But Y/N couldn’t help her sudden desire to flirt back, just to see if she could knock him off his feet as he so often tried to do to her.

“Yours is the only one I’m interested in stoking, Rengoku.” She said sweetly.

She’d laughed at the Flame Pillar’s beet-red face for the rest of the day.

————————————————————————

Y/N kept her hand pressed to the throbbing wound on her lower abdomen, cursing that she could still feel the Upper Six’s sickle piercing her gut even two months later.

“You’re in pain.” It wasn’t a question.

Y/N shrugged, trying to play it off. “I suppose it’s to be expected for a while yet. At least until I recover.”

Rengoku said nothing, and the silence felt suffocating.

“Would you-“ Y/N hesitated, and inwardly she’d never felt more embarrassed or uncertain than she did then as she stood before the uncharacteristically stoic Flame Pillar. “Would you like to sit down?”

Rengoku’s face remained impassive, and he turned away from her, dismissively.

“I cannot. I came only to retrieve a salve from Kocho.” His voice was just as cold and unfamiliar as the rest of him had been.

“Rengoku, is everything all right?” She stretched out a hand to touch his shoulder but was alarmed at how quickly he flinched away from her as if her touch could burn him.

“Everything is fine, Y/L/N. I need to be on my way.” Rengoku’s voice was flat, monotone, and wholly foreign to her.

“I’m sorry for not thanking you sooner — for everything you did to help me that night.” Y/N blurted, and to her momentary relief, Rengoku froze mid-step, though he did not turn towards her. “I owe you my life.”

She did not miss the way Rengoku’s fists clenched at his side. “You owe me nothing. I would have done the same for any other comrade.” He replied, voice tight. “I must get going now. Farewell, Y/L/N.

She was so stunned that she’d not bidden him farewell back. Rather, she’d stood helplessly in her doorway, even long after the edge of his haori had disappeared around the corner of the Butterfly Mansion’s hall.

He had not looked at her once.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #rengoku kyojuro #kyojuro rengoku #rengoku kyōjurō #kny fanfic #kny #kyojuro x y/n #kyojuro x reader #rengoku fanfic #kimetsu rengoku #kyojuro x you #demon slayer rengoku #rengoku kyojuro x reader

[viridianevergarden]

I saw a tiktok about Lucien giving Elain those enchanted gloves and how the reason for her not using them is so obviously because she’s not accepting of her new life as a Fae. That because she refuses to use the enchanted gloves, she’s still grasping onto her mortal life. That she can’t let go.

While I understand what they were getting at, I don’t think that’s it. At all.

See- Elain, to me, is the one who said “it is what it is” and began her healing journey by accepting the way things are and moving on from it. That while that open wound is still there, it is mending. What better can she do other than to allow it to heal?

Elain was the one to come forward and apologize to Feyre for her past inactions.

Elain was the one to opt in and declare that she will find the cauldron without a second thought.

Elain was the one who declared that she is in fact a part of the Night Court. That it is her home.

Elain was the one who actively helped the people of Velaris after the attack.

And most importantly, Elain was the one to claim that she wants to build a garden at the house after everything. That the world needs more of them.

And so she did.

Her act of building a garden at that house was a testament to her acceptance. A testament to her willingness to start and finally begin loving her new life and the people in it. She has firmly planted her feet into the ground of the Night Court. That is where she’ll stay.

OP went on to say that Feyre is a hypocrite/unreliable because when she told Lucien about Elain and her enjoyment of gardening, she’d put on a hat and gloves to work in the mortal realm. Yet here she is now, refusing to use the enchanted ones.

That since the OP has also been gardening before, you need gloves and a hat for protection, that any gardener would use those tools. While that may be true, nowhere did the books say that Elain doesn’t use gloves or a hat in general as a Fae. I mean there are people who don’t use gloves or a hat to do that type of work. And people who do, thorns can get through those gloves still.

We can guess as much with Elain when Feyre was picking thorns from her hands.

My point is this:

Just because of the fact that Elain refuses to use magical gloves doesn’t mean that she’s clinging onto her past life and refusing to move on. Just because of that fact doesn’t mean that she refuses to look forward and give Lucien a chance.

Gods forbid the girl merely prefers to keep some human aspect of her craft to herself for fun. Like Feyre said, perhaps Elain enjoys the dirty work. The hard work. And the beauty out of it.

I’ve said it before. Elain enjoys the challenge or merely has a preference for that originality. It’s obvious.

Why else would SJM spend precious page space to elude to that conclusion?

Feyre isn’t souly unreliable. Theres a reason as to why words are said in the books. Especially for SJM, they have meaning.

#acotar #pro elriel #elain archeron #pro elain #i thought it was obvious

[extremelyblackandwhite]

pairing: dad!bucky barnes x au pair!reader

summary: coney island. break my soul in two looking for you but you're right here. if I can't relate to you anymore then who am I related to?

Sergeant Barnes had taken her advice, something which the other staff who usually came to upkeep the home did not believe. He didn’t take suggestions, at least he hadn’t since he was a child. He was one of those people who’d rather fail on his own accord rather than succeed on someone else’s. He’d just rather be stubborn yet an au pair had had him listening on how to parent his daughter. This had become much more evident when he’d called her somewhere around midday, asking if se could bring Sadie over to the office so he could spend some time with her. She’d never really gone to his office before, she’d never even questioned where it was. Usually a quickly handwritten note stuck to the fridge with a magnet with a just barely understood address. She didn’t know why she had thought he’d have a modest office - nothing about James Buchanan Barnes was modest, and as she stood in front of the glass building that seemed to thrust into the skies forever. In that moment she was afraid she didn’t know who was more in awe of it - her or Sadie who was tightly gripping her hand. 

Everything was ... polished, clean, almost crystalline. If she were to be honest, the building from the inside looking like a private high-end hospital or maybe a really white and sleek restaurant. It was intimidating, it matched the owner and it almost seemed out of place for an au pair dressed in Zara clothing and a toddler in beige clothing carrying a very bright Bluey backpack. 

      - Hi. - she smiled at the receptionist. - I’m Y/N, I’m Sergeant Barnes au pair. He asked me to bring his daughter to his office. 

      - I’ll let him know. 

Y/N looked down at Sadie, slightly shaking her arm to try and calm the little girl down. She didn’t look comfortable, staring at everyone who came in and out with fright. It wasn’t unexpected, she didn’t particularly enjoy strangers and this building was a whole building of strangers.

     - Hey, look who it is! - Y/N turned towards the direction of the sound to see Sam. 

Sam was one of Bucky’s only trusted people, the other owner of the company and honestly the reason why Y/N knew even the slightest of things about Bucky. He’d usually come by the house to play with Sadie when he could, having named himself as the young girl’s godfather despite Bucky’s objections. 

     - That’s the coolest Bluey backpack, Sisi. - he gave her a little twirl. - I’m so jealous. You have to lend it to me sometime. 

     - Y/N got it. - she smiled, proudly taking her backpack off to show it to her godfather. - There is Bluey and Bingo. 

      - Y/N never gets me presents. - Sam joked. - How are you? I heard from the grapevine that you gave Barnes a good old earful. Is he paying you for babysitting him as well? 

      - Maybe he values my opinion. - she teased as Sam placed a hand over his heart feigning hurt. - He’ll tell you off if he sees you hanging around instead of doing whatever it is you two do. 

     - I don’t know, Y/L/N. If babysitting ever goes south, perhaps you oughta join us. Would do well with someone who can get Barnes to change his mind. 

      - Sergeant Barnes is waiting. - the receptionist returned. - He also said he’ll be expecting a meeting with you soon, Mr. Wilson. 

     - Tell him he can keep waiting. - he waved the warning off before squatting down to Sadie’s level. - You go and hang out with dad. Tell me all about it later, Sisi. 

     - Bye, uncle Sam. - she waved with a grin before turning back to Y/N, extending her hand towards her again. 

The two of them followed the receptionist through clear halls decorated with elegant art, tall white and grey pottery as well as several plants which looked as fresh as any seen in nature. Soon, two large black doors came in view in a scene that reminded her somewhat of the entry to Jurassic Park. Perhaps because both housed two beings with terrible tempers. Sadie held onto Y/N’s leg as the receptionist left the two to grasp with who was going to open the door. 

     - Wanna go. - she buried her head in the fabric of Y/N’s trousers. - Please.

     - Sadie ... - Y/N leaned down to pick her up. - Daddy really wants to hang out with you. 

The little girl buried her face in her neck, mumbling about being scared. She couldn’t really blame her, the building was intimidating and even though her father sat on the other side of that door, all the 2 year old could see was a big door in a frightening building. 

     - We’re going in together. You can hold on to me, it’ll be ok. 

     - Promise?

     - Promise. - she smiled down at her before her hand reached to open the door. 

The office was without personality, much different to how Bucky had decorated his house. The office was just as clean as the rest of the building, decorated like any other office in a decoration magazine. Whilst his house was sophisticated, there were dots of personality everywhere from Sadie’s drawings on the fridge, to Bucky’s postcard collection in frames everywhere you’d looked. She wondered for a second, for a millisecond, if he even spent time here and if he did how much time did he spend. It looked too pristine but Sadie didn’t care, her face lighting up as she saw her dad. 

     - Look who it is. - she pointed at Bucky as Sadie jumped onto the floor to run over to her dad. 

     - Daddy, look, Bluey. - she pointed to her backpack. - Y/N gave it to me.

(...)

It was official. Y/N had no clue what to do with her free time. She had done her revision, looked at all her notes, even spent half the afternoon looking through her thesis only to find herself bored. She missed Sadie asking about her thesis, heck, she even missed the sound of the obnoxious children’s cartoons. Therefore, it was not upsetting when she got a message from Bucky, an hour earlier than expected. She walked back into that building with an unshaken confidence, climbing the stairs up to the office. 

     - FAIR! - Sadie rushed from the office to hug her leg. - Daddy is taking us. 

     - It’s Coney Island. If you’re not busy. - Bucky added as he came not far behind his daughter, keeping a trained eye on her so she wouldn’t wander far. - Sadie said she wanted you to come. 

     - What happened to your hair, baby? - she lowered to the 2 year old’s height, finding her hair on a half arranged scrunchie to the right of her head. 

     - It’s fine. - Bucky said nervously. - You like it, don’t you, Sisi? 

     - No. - she pouted. 

     - It’s alright, baby. - Y/N carefully pulled the scrunchie down. - It looks better down anyway. 

    - Thanks. - Bucky mumbled. - I’m not good with hair ... at least Sadie’s hair. 

It was an odd feeling. An odd feeling as he found himself completely at odds with how to look after his child while she just did it so effortlessly. She seemed to know better, better than him and she was a complete outsider. She wasn’t her mother, she wasn’t family yet Sadie followed her like a baby duck, happily telling her what she did. No tantrums, no anything. All she did was extend her little hand towards Y/N and Bucky couldn’t help the little green monster yearning to come out of him. He’d never really questioned what he was sacrificing, he thought it was ok. That’s what father’s did, right? That’s what his father had done and he always seemed to so tuned to his children’s needs. Yet, here he was, not knowing what to do about his own daughter.

He just starred at the spectacle of the fair, the sounds of children and their parents muzzled by his own thoughts. He just wondered, perhaps with some sort of obsession, if this, if who he was, was enough for Sadie. Was he a father or just the man who gave her a home? 

     - Sergeant Barnes? - her voice broke him from a daze he didn’t realise he’d been stuck in from his office all the way to the fair. - Sergeant Barnes, are you alright? 

     - Sorry. - he blinked harshly. - I was distracted. 

     - I gathered that much. - she looked at him from the corner of her eye. - Work? 

     - In a way. - he shrugged. - You’re good with Sadie. 

     - It’s part of my job. - she smiled at him. - You should fire me if I’m not good with Sadie. 

     - Not what I meant. - he continued looking at the aquarium exposition they’d set which was breath taking for little Sadie. - She really likes you. You can do her hair and she asks for you all the time. 

      - Sergeant Barnes, I ...

      - When she’s with me ... - he took a deep breathe, the words getting stuck in the middle of his throat. - When she’s with me she asks for you. 

      - She asks for you as well. - she tried to comfort him. - She’s 2. I wouldn’t dwell on it. 

      - You’re like Mary fucking Poppins. 

      - Or maybe I just give her spoonfuls of sugar. - she joked. - You’re a good dad, Sergeant Barnes. A grumpy one but a good one. 

      - I thought we were done with Sergeant Barnes.

     - Well, I am not done with being called sir. - she looked down at Sadie, pulling her away from the aquarium before she attempted to break the glass. - Why don’t we go on the merry go round? 

      - Fishies! - she pointed back at the fishes. 

      - It’s ok, Sisi. We can get you a gold fish after. 

How they had ended up here, Bucky wasn’t sure. All he knew is that Y/N was holding Sadie’s against her chest, the little girl having dozed off after going on every single ride and tent she could find, while Bucky had his handfuls with big stuffed teddies, two goldfishes (because of course Sadie wanted a fish to keep the other fish company), and a half eaten cotton candy which Sadie had said she would finish home.

      - You sure you don’t need help? - she asked, moving Sadie so she was more comfortably laying against her chest. - I can carry one of the stuffies. 

      - It’s okay. I may have gone overboard with the stuffies. 

      - At least you have a few new fans. - she teased, remembering how some of the mums had fawned as Bucky had easily won any and every fair game to win the biggest teddy available. - I’m sure you’ve increased your popularity. 

      - Did you have fun? - he attempted to change the subject. He knew his effect on women and he did not like to discuss it. Last thing he needed was a relationship to disrupt Sadie’s life. He was no stranger to a one night stand or even to having a few friends with benefits but that’s where it ended. For all Sadie, and even Y/N, were concerned he was a celibate, single man. It was for the best. 

      - As much fun as you can have when you ride the merry-go-round 10 times. 

     - C’mon, you need to have fun. What do you want to do? 

     - It’s okay, Sergeant Barnes. We need to get Sadie home and ...

     - Bucky. - he interrupted her. - It’s Bucky and I asked you what you want to do. Trust me, Sadie’s not waking up any time soon. I want you to have fun as well. 

     - Fine. I want to shoot some cans. 

     - You want to shoot some cans? - he chuckled. - Alright. We can find something like that. 

It wasn’t hard to find something like that. He just found it odd she wanted to do that. Perhaps it was the first thing that came through her mind when he asked her to do something she liked or maybe she had some pent up aggression within her. Whatever it was, Bucky was curious. He didn’t know much about her outside of what needed to be known. He knew she was working on her post graduate qualifications, doing a PhD, but he wasn’t sure on what. She didn’t share much. 

     - Here, let me hold her. - he shifted the things on his arms, finding space to hold his daughter against his hip. Y/N shrugged, handing him Sadie as if she would’ve easily shot the cans while holding the two year old. - Maybe you should ...

     - I got it. - she grabbed the prop weapon, gathering her aim before shooting 5 cans down in a row. 

     - Do you ... do you shoot often? - he looked at her with a mix of confusion and amazement. 

     - Not really. - she said, not taking her eyes off the other 5 cans which she easily knocked down before turning to the guy manning the booth. - Can I get the blue dog plush, please?

     - You’re a good shot. 

     - Is that a compliment, Sergeant Barnes? 

     - I’m a better shot but you’re not bad. - he added. - Come on. We have somewhere else to go. 

     - Are you gonna show me how much of a better shot you are?

     - Don’t need to. Have medals to prove it, Y/N. Besides, I have my daughter here. 

     - Uh ... I think you’re just scared of losing. 

     - Is that so?

     - Yes.

     - Ok. There’s a shooting range about half an hour from my office, I’ll happily show you my skills there. 

     - Can’t perform without your familiar tools? - she crossed her arms. 

     - Oh doll. - he smirked. - I can perform with any tool you choose. 

#sebastian stan #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky/reader #bucky x reader #bucky/you #bucky x you #bucky/y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky imagine #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan x y/n

[paintedpeeta]

Katniss falling once again while hunting (perhaps from a height) and this time allowing Peeta to wait on her hand and foot because he’s worried about his little wife and her injuries when he goes and looks and sees how high she fell from

stop because one of the most underrated aspects (in my opinion) of everlarks relationship is that little period of time in catching fire when katniss is injured and spends quite a bit of time with peeta, who works on the plant book with her and carries her up and down the stairs.

it’s such a brief glimpse into them experiencing normality and domesticity together, but it’s adorable and shows katniss turning to peeta for comfort when she’s in a vulnerable state. also it is so damn intimate to work on what is, essentially, an important (remember, katniss used this book to identify edible plants to keep her family alive) family heirloom with someone.

idk about y’all but i wouldn’t invite someone to fuck around with something like that unless i was planning on keeping them around forever. the subconscious is a crazy thing miss katniss girl.

katniss notes that it’s the first time she does something not games related with peeta, but come to think of it… it’s one of the few times we see her getting to do something in the series that isn’t directly linked to her survival. she’s just comfortable with him, she likes him being around, enjoys watching him work, rhapsodizes entirely platonically about his eyelashes (“bro your eyelashes are so long and golden colored in the sunlight… as a friend”).

now, imagine all this sweet and caring domesticity and ramp it up by 10 if we’re talking about her picking up an injury when they’re actually married. for a start peeta would be super worked up and agitated about her getting hurt. he’d probably nag at her about being more careful for a bit, but it comes from a place of love and concern. he reminds her that every time she goes out hunting she leaves him behind waiting for her, and she grumbles at the attempted guilt trip before conceding that he’s right.

should it be suggested, he would strictly ensure she remained on bed rest. this would mean carrying her around whenever she wanted a change of scenery, which she actually doesn’t mind. if she wants fresh air, he gets her wrapped up and takes her out to the front porch. at first, katniss is slightly resistant to his fussing but she would eventually back down, knowing he won’t budge. and then she starts to lean into it. it would be say an ankle injury, but she’d be like “could you please brush my hair?” because you know. it feels nice and he’s gentle and she’s too busy lazing across the couch like buttercup.

this time of course, they would have the memory book to work on to keep her occupied but i don’t think it would be something they did everyday as it’s heavy stuff. and so it’s peeta’s job to keep her entertained. he gives her drawing lessons and when that fails he has her mix his paints up or sharpen his pencils while he sketches. he gets her yarn from town so they can learn to knit together, and thread too so she can do some embroidery (you might not think this a very katniss-y hobby, dear anon, but she is very self-sufficient).

#everlark headcanons #asks #i luv them taking care of each other honestly #its their brand!!

[sebstan2020]

The King

Chapter 3

Violet is a bad girl at school, not giving a care about her grades that are falling and getting in trouble every week. She smokes, drinks and she's only sixteen. Her mother has had enough of her and doesn't know what to do with her. But when she's forced to go to her mother's employee dinner for the United States Army, she meets the mysterious and handsome General James Barnes.

She is infatuated with him and can't seem to stay away. The closer she gets to him, the more she craves him and soon she finds herself entering a world of darkness, pain and pleasure.

The fucking general of the fucking US fucking army. James Barnes. That was her mysterious man. The man who had taken her sin stick from her slipped it into his jacket pocket as if he were her father. And there he was, standing at the podium, the light glowing on top of him as if he were a god, his disciples basking in his glory. He was intoxicating, as if he had planted a spell on the entire crowd for them to gawk at and stare at.

Violet didn’t even listen to the words flowing out of his mouth, as she was too star struck to even be able to listen. It was as if she had turned deaf and could only focus on looking at him. The sublet movements of his hands, his long fingers with perfectly manicured nails, and the peak of his wrist from his shirt. The glint in his teeth as he smiled earned a hushed laugh across the floor from the small joke he made and the movements of his lips. Everything about him was intriguing, and Violet wanted more. The crowd applauded his speech, and as he stepped off the poduim to return to his seat near the front, Violet whimpered. It was like being left on a cliffhanger at the end of a movie or a series and having to wait for the next one. But could she?

The evening finished, and at the beginning of the dinner, Violet couldn’t wait for this moment, but now she didn’t want it to end. She didn’t want to leave without another interaction with James. She was eager to see him, and as the crowd moved towards the exit, she searched for him as if she were searching for her own child, ducking between people, but he was nowhere in sight. Perhaps she’d never see him again. He is the US Army general, probably one of the most important people in this country. He’s got better things to do than hang around for a sixteen-year-old girl. 

Violet reluctantly followed her mother to the exit door, keeping a couple steps back to get a few seconds more of searching in before she stepped into the dark, cold night. Just as she turned into the hallway to the front door, she looked to the side and stopped midway in the moving crowd, her eyes focused on the beautiful man standing a couple feet away. She wanted to push her way through to him, shove everyone else out of the way to get to him, and bask in his glory. But he wasn’t alone. A couple of other highly ranked males stood next to him, chatting lowly, and she sighed, knowing she didn’t have a choice but to leave. But as she turned to make her way out, James turned his head, and his azure eyes met her emerald ones, and she gasped with excitement. A curl of his lips indicated he saw her and acknowledged her; the way his eye slightly creased as if he were winking at her, and Violet felt a tingle shot through her body. She hummed at the feeling, having never felt it before. 

It was like a firework had been set on inside her; a bomb detonated as a result of his smile, and she looked up at him with wider eyes this time, an almost confused look on her face. James slightly smirked at her but turned back to his colleagues after a few seconds. He didn’t have long, and that subtle gesture would last for hours in Violet. In the distance, her mother called her name, and she had to drag herself away into the sea of people, away from James. She grinned to herself and held a hand to her stomach to calm herself down. What was this feeling? She had never felt anything like this before. 

In the car on the way home, Violet stared out the window, watching the city go by. Not a single thing, but James was on her mind. His smile, his eyes, his voice, and that tingle—a delicioso mix inside her that she didn’t want to forget. 

“See, wasn’t it a nice night?” Her mother said, trying to make conversation, but Violet was stuck in her vision of James. 

“Violet!” Her mother scolded her, and she jumped back to reality, glaring at her mother for taking her mind off of James. 

“What?” She asked in a more questionable manner than annoyed. 

“I said, wasn’t it a nice night?” Her mother repeated, and she blew her lips. 

"Yeah, it was okay, although Debra was getting on my nerves. Mom, I don’t know how you can stand her; she is so annoying, and why are you telling everyone my grades are down?” She huffed, throwing her arms in a tight fold against her chest. 

“Because you’re not taking your schoolwork seriously, Violet. I might take Debra up on that idea of a tutor; your exams are coming up, and I’m worried you won’t be able to get a job if you don’t do well enough,” her mother said with worry in her voice, and Violet groaned. 

“Who cares, mom? I swear places don’t even look at your grades, and anyway, we can’t afford it. Just because their prescious Sally Has A’s all around doesn’t mean I will,” she resorted to looking out the window, and the car ride was silent the rest of the way home. Now she really needed a cigarette. 

In her room, the black dress and hair band lay in the middle of the room, discarded with no respect as Violet sat at her window, dressed in a skimpy t-shirt and PJ shorts and her cigarette in hand, blowing out the window so her room wouldn’t stink of smoke. She stared off into the dark night, her memories of James replying over and over in her head. Some might call it obsessive; some might call it psychotic or sociopathic, but not Violet. She didn’t know what to call it. It was so new and exciting. She grinned at the burning stick in her fingers, remembering how he took it from her so easily and slipped it into his pocket. At first, she demanded it back, but looking back on it now, she enjoyed it for some reason. A man she didn’t know had authority over her within a couple minutes of meeting her. 

She had to see him again. She wouldn’t be able to think unless she did. To get a taste of his voice again, his assertiveness, and his authority over her. She was craving him more than she craved a cigarette. But why did she want to see him again? Was it to rub in his face that she had been smoking despite him telling her she shouldn’t? To beat him and come out on top. She wouldn’t know until she saw him again. Taking the last few drags, she blew the long line of smoke back into the cold air and slammed the window shut before it could make its way into her room. She sprayed the room with a cheap Walmart spray to cover the evidence and brushed her teeth before climbing in bed. School was back on Monday, which meant she had a whole day to think about James. 

Violet didn’t get out of bed until eleven o'clock. She was a late sleeper and certainly not an early bird. Anyone who wakes her up early will receive hell from her. She liked her beauty sleep, certainly on the weekends. She woke with a groan and a craving for a cigarette. It was a normal craving, and she dragged herself out of bed. Her hair was a mess, her eyes tired, and she groaned at the look of herself in the mirror. Her feet slapped against the floor as she entered the small bathroom connected to her room. There was no way she would be awake until she had a cigarette and a cup of coffee, something a grownup would do to get themselves working for the day. 

After brushing her teeth and taming whatever hair she could, she sat at her window and lit up the stick in her lips. As the flame touched the end, she couldn’t help but think of James. Was this going to be a thing from now on? Every time she smoked, she’d think of him. Instead of smoking it, she held it firmly between her thumb and finger, staring as smoke drifted off into the sunny morning, slowly getting shorter. Her chance for a nicotine rush was fading in front of her, but for some reason she didn’t want to smoke it. Just look at it. 

James. He was so mysterious and exhilarating that Violet had to come up with a way to see him again. Her mother was the closest thing to him; perhaps she’d find a way into his company. With all this talk about grades and jobs, Violet thought of the perfect solution. She grinned in delight and quickly stubbed out the stick, soaking herself in perfume before running downstairs. Her mother was in the kitchen tidying away the breakfast she had made when Violet ran in. 

“There you are; I was calling you down for breakfast,” she huffed. 

"Sorry, mom, I was in a deep sleep,” which wasn’t a complete lie.

"Do you want some breakfast?” She asked, and Violet nodded, grabbing a glass of orange juice to gulp down. The nicotine urge was still deep inside her, so she needed something to help it go away. As her mother fried up some eggs, bacon, toast, and baked beans, Violet ran over in her head what she was going to ask. It was a risky move, but she hoped that her smile and pleading would win her mother over. 

“So mom, I’ve been thinking, and you’re right, I do need to work on my grades a little bit,” she started as her mother brought over the breakfast plate. The bacon smelled delicious, and the eggs were just how she liked them. sunny side up. Her mother raised a brow at her and stood firmly with her hands on her hips. 

"Okay, what do you want?” She glared down. 

“What, nothing!” Violet exlaimed.

"Oh, come on, you said yesterday you didn’t care about your grades, and now all of a sudden you do; you obviously want something." Her mother was smart, and Violet scoffed, trying to act innocent. But she did want something. She wanted James. 

“Just listen to me. I was thinking about what you said last night and what Debra was saying, and you’re right: if I don’t get good grades, then I won’t be able to find a decent job. I was thinking maybe I could do some work experience with you, see what you do, and that way, if I get good grades, I could go into the army. I promise, I’m not trying to get anything out of you. I’ve only got two years left of school before I might have to go to college, or I don’t even know what I want to do,” she explained, and her mother stared down at her. 

“Are you saying that truthfully, or are you just trying to get me on your good side so you can ask for something later?” She said it hesitantly. 

“I promise, mom, I want to do better, and face it, we can’t afford a tutor; you work hard enough as it is. Would you be able to ask if I can do some work experience with you?” She pleaded, giving her puppy dog eyes, and her mother hummed, softening her stance. Her mother didn’t want to look like a fool, falling into her daughter's tactics of tricking her, but she seemed genuine, and secretly, she had hoped that one day her daughter would turn around and give up with the bad girl rebel stage of her life. 

"Well, I'll have to ask my boss, but I don’t see a problem with it. I can pick you up after school, and on weekends we can go together,” she said in a happier tone, as if she were excited for her daughter to be working with her. It wasn’t exactly the mother-daughter time she had hoped for, but it was better than nothing and better than her worrying about what her teenage daughter was doing on the dangerous streets of New York. 

"Thanks, Mom; I really appreciate this.” Violet grinned up at her and dug into her breakfast, grinning on both the inside and outside. Soon, she was going to see James again. To Violet’s delight, her mother's boss approved of the work experience. She said they were always keen to have young people come and see what working for the army was like, to bring in new young recruits to help their country. They were always looking for new soldiers. It was deceiving of her to make her mother think she was really interested in what she does for a living—to pay the bills and keep them from living off the streets—when in fact all she wanted was a sneak peek at the general of the US army. Violet had clarified that his office was in her mother's building, which it was. They worked in the main building of the army complex, with his office on the top floor and the administrators at the bottom. It was a strange complex, but Violet was not complaining. Her only way in was through her mother, as she had an ID card. Only members with ID could enter the facility through guarded gates, so there was no option of Violet sneaking in to get a look at her handsome general. 

Monday came quickly, and Violet was glad. After school, her mother was going to pick her up and take her to her office, where she would see James for the second time. She had especially dolled herself up today, her hair brushed to straight perfection, her eyes lined with black kohl liner, and a sparkly lip gloss she found deep in her draws with her best perfume on. She matched her face with a pair of skinny leather jeans and a cropped white t-shirt, hoping the slit across her belly would catch his attention. 

At the lockers, she and her best friend Lexi stood there, with Lexi chewing loudly on some gum while Violet shoved her books in her locker. "Hey, do you want to come to mine after school? My parents are out, so I got a free house,” she grinned, and Violet slammed her locker and smirked, shoving her bag on her shoulder. “I can't; I’m going to my mom's work with her,” she said with excitement, and Lexi narrowed her eyes at her. 

“You, go to work,” she laughed, and Violet shoved her shoulder playfully as they wandered down the hallway to head outside for a smoke. They still had one lesson left, but that could wait. 

"Look, I’m failing class, and so my mom said I should do work experience with her. Besides, I went to their annual dinner thing on Saturday, and there were a lot of fit soldiers there.” She wiggled her brows as they went to the back of the school to hide as they lit up the cigarettes, blowing smoke into the air through pursed lips, and Lexi hummed. 

“Nice. I like a man in uniform. Well, if you get too bored, you can tell your mom you're coming to study at mine,” she offered, and Violet nodded. Although she wasn’t going to get bored at all, Violet wasn’t being exactly truthful with Lexi. She had made it out like it was her mom's idea for her to do work experience, although it was hers completely. But she didn’t want to tell Lexi about General Barnes, the mysterious, sexy man she was already head over heels for. She wanted him to be her dirty secret. And right now he was. She didn’t know how old he was, but he was surely a log older than her, and in the eyes of the law, that was a big no-no. But she wasn’t doing anything illegal; all she was doing was saying hello and hoping to get a chance to either flirt with or sass him. Either way, she kept it to herself. 

Right on time, her mother picked her up from school. After another soaking of perfume and chewing gum, she jumped in the car as her mother drove them to the US army base. Her mother wrinkled her nose at the overpowering smell of mint and spices, knowing full well that her daughter had been smoking, but she didn’t say anything. For once, they seemed to be getting along, and she didn’t want to ruin this moment. She had spoken to Debra and Wendy at work, saying she was bringing Violet over, and they were just as delighted. She glanced over to Violet, who was bouncing up and down like an excited puppy ready to play, and she smiled. She just hoped it wasn’t too good to be true. 

The base was massive, and Violet was in awe of it. They passed a field of troops lined up in perfect formation, following the tough orders of their sergeant. The base was beautiful, without a single flower, blade of grass, or rock out of place. It was historical, with big buildings, flags, and statues telling the story of the nations fighting men and women. Violet was a little shocked, and when her mother parked the car, she didn’t hesitate to get out. The ground was smooth and well placed, with not a single bump. There was little to no mud and perfectly cut grass on every lawn, littered with colourful little flowers. Stone with metal plaques with important names engraved, giving honour to worthy men and women who had died for their country. 

Violet followed her mother into the administration office, watching as she held up her badge for ID and was granted immediate access. If Violet had one of those, she could come here anytime. In fact, if she worked here, she could come anytime. The inside was just as beautiful as the outside. Pictures upon pictures of men dressed in well-cleaned uniforms, medals upon medals littering the front with gold plaques under their pictures sporting their names. It was the past generals of the US army, dating back at least a hundred years. And who was at the end? James Barnes. Violet stopped and stared up at the grand picture. 

He was just as beautiful in real life. In the picture above, his hair was slightly neater, combed back and held by gel; he had a clean, shaven face with a broad smile; and those dazzling blue eyes were staring across the room. He wore a fitted dark green jacket with models, a tie tightly around his neck, and a bright shirt underneath. There he was. General James Barnes of the United States of America. He looked so young compared to everyone else, and staring up at that picture gave Violet a tingle. There it was again—that tingle that made her want to moan out loud. 

She had to tear herself away from the picture as her mother called her over. They entered her small office, which consisted of a room with three desks, three computers, and a large printer in the corner, a small coffee break area, and large windows looking out onto the perfect lawn. As she entered the office, Violet groaned as Debra waved an annoying hello at her, and Wendy joined in as well. She was going to have to endure her own war to win what she wanted. 

Chapter 4

Hey I hope you like this chapter, let me know what you think in the comments

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