You tried so hard to stay awake for as long as you could.
You even tried to look up ways to stay up online, doing tricks such as downing caffeine, jogging late at night, and even refusing to sit anywhere near your bed.
Unfortunately, you're only human and eventually you could feel the sleepiness taking over your body.
Hopefully he won't show tonight...
💤
It's dark out and the only noise that you can pick up is the slight scratching of the tree against the glass on your bedroom window. Your line out sight is directed towards the far corner of your bedroom, which is shrouded in black shadows.
But you can't move.
You can't speak.
You're trapped.
Helpless.
A cold sweat breaks out on your forehead, and your heart begins to race in your chest as you wait for it...
"Hey, Darling," a deep, gravelly voice echoes out in your small bedroom.
The black shadow in the corner of the room darkens, seemingly drawing in the rest of the shadows in the bedroom-- a pair of eerie red eyes appear.
They laser focus on you.
"Darling, I missed you," the voice says again. "I missed you so, so much." An angry growl emanates from the dark corner of the room. "Why? Why are you trying to avoid me?"
The wooden floorboards creak as he approaches the bed. Slowly, you can start to make out a tall, intimidating figure emerging from the shadows. The sleep paralysis demon who's visited you every night for the past few months stalks closer and closer to the bed.
He's angry, you fear. His red eyes are narrowed in your direction, and as he draws nearer, his large mouth is forming a snarl. It shows off the rows of dagger-sharp teeth that could easily slice your flesh if you ever piss him off.
Had you been able to move, you would've shivered at the sight of the terrifying demon.
The demon paused and frowned when he sensed your fear.
"Oh, Darling," he almost pouted, "don't be scared. Daddy won't hurt you."
He moves out of sight, but then you can feel the mattress starting to shift underneath his added weight. His body radiates an intense heat as it crawls over you. He snakes his strong arms around you and holds you closer to him.
"I'm just a little upset that my darling isn't getting enough sleep," the demon huffs, his hot breath wafting over your cheek as he speaks. His lips are pressed against you, and you can feel his facial muscles flex with every word he mutters.
Helpless, you're completely powerless as he cuddles you. He runs admiring fingers through your hair and shoves his nose into the crook of your neck, moaning loudly as he inhales your delicious scent.
"It's the only time we can see each other," he continues. "And I really missed you when you weren't sleeping. Didn't you miss me? Even a little bit?"
Of course you would've refused had you been able to answer.
"Of course you did," the demon smiles. "My darling missed me a lot. I just know it... maybe, just maybe I won't let you wake up. Then we can be together forever."
Your heart speeds up.
"Would you like that, Darling?"
You close your eyes as you try to drift off, desperate to get away from this love obsessed demon.
"I would love that very much. I love you very much, Darling. And I hate that we can't be together during the day."
He tightens his grip on you.
"Which is why it's important for you to get your sleep. If you keep trying to stay up all night, then you'll leave me no choice but to never let you wake up."
The thought is terrifying-- being trapped in your sleep paralysis with this demon cuddling up to you constantly. And all the while, you'd be helpless to do anything at all.
"I love you so much, Darling," the demon coos as he presses a kiss onto your cheek. "Sweet dreams, my love."
You're a green witch, and being the only magic user in the village, you keep to yourself. Those who turn their heads as you walk down the street also wander into your shop for your lovely flowers or herbs to cure their ailments.
The bell over the door chimes and Lord Edmund White walks into your shop, his nose turned up as it always is. He touches a few of the roses, pinching at their petals as he passes.
"I need something." He says, dusting off his lapels before he looks up at you, "I have been informed that you can help me. I expect you to honor the same confidentiality that you afford your other patrons and if need be I can pay heavily."
"That depends." You say, "What exactly is my lord in the market for?"
"Gravesickle."
You swallow, keeping your expression impassive. Gravesickle is a poison, but when cooked, it's also a delicious herb used in preparing Fairaway Fish. One can only assume his intended use.
"Of course, my lord." You walk into the back room and pull down the basket with your fresh gravesickle, wincing at the memory of digging your fingers into the soil and urging it to grow.
When you set it down, he grabs the entire basket, tossing twelve gold pieces on the countertop then sweeps out the door. More than you've seen in your entire life running the shop.
A couple of days pass and you hear nothing. No deaths. No illnesses. Nothing that would suggest that he used the herb.
Until the law comes to your door.
"You're wanted for the attempted murder of Lord and Lady Hardcastle. Any resistance will hasten your death."
So the fool cooked the gravesickle and in his failure he threw you to the wolves.
You scramble into the back room, kicking up the rug to expose the stone floor beneath. Grabbing the chalk you draw a circle, adding the intersecting lines and runes along the edge. A summons, a plea. Something. One final attempt before you're taken away and burned or worse.
One slide of the dagger and a few drops of blood smeared against the stone, your knee wiping away a rune.
He appears, towering above you with winding charcoal horns, pale blue skin and onyx eyes that swallow all the light.
"Please, I will do anything. I will give you anything." You cry.
"For your life?" He asks.
"For my life and my safety." You add.
"As you wish, little witch." He says, looking up at the door.
With the wave of his hand the crowd outside goes silent.
"What did you do?"
"Bought us a little time."
He pulls you to your feet, "And now for my payment."
The demon's claw traces down your cheek, hooking under your jaw to lift your chin.
Amnesia - Found Family - One True Love - Hurt/Comfort
Ever since I was little I’ve had strange premonitions. Not like the visions and crystal balls you see in the movies, it’s nothing that clear. It’s more of a gut reaction, a small voice or whisper on the breeze and a sudden knowing and understanding. A sigh and a nod “oh, ok” is usually how it goes. My mom told me it started when I was little and I would tell my mom that we would need to buy a cake for so and so soon. My mom soon learned that when I said that, it meant someone was going to die. That wasn’t exactly what a horror writer wanted to figure out from her child, but the more I grew, the more the premonitions turned from death to other things.
I suppose it was lucky my mom wrote horror for a living, it gave her insight and a patience to deal with this strange gift I was given. She was very right about it too. My mom figured I predicted deaths first because they were the strongest things I could sense. The older I became, my predictions moved to smaller things, while death was still a heavy knowledge, lighter things became easier to pick up. I could tell the phone needed to be answered before it rang or if it was worth checking the mail. My mom and I agreed to tell no one about this and I promised her it wasn’t something I could use at will. I mean, during high school I tried, but it was something I had to wait for.
The carnival came to town one day, the posters began appearing on telephone poles and shop windows. It sounded like an ominous place, but my gut reaction kicked in and told me I shouldn’t go. It was the first time such a reaction took my breath away.
I went home and got another gut reaction just as I opened the door. It told me my best friend would be leaving.
"It'll be fun. You sure you don't want to?" June had flashed the poster to me not long ago, excitedly telling me how much fun it would be.
From our window I could see the dark silhouette of the ferris wheel. I would like to go, only out of morbid curiosity, but that instinct told me yet again I couldn’t. Not yet anyways.
"It's so weird though…” I said more of my own internal struggle than what she said.
June furrows her brow then laughed. "What's so weird? Carnivals happen all the time? Worst thing that can happen there is you get tricked by a carnival game."
I shook my head. “I just don’t feel like it’s a good idea.”
June’s expression narrowed upon me. “Is it because of that one story your mom wrote?”
This could be a good excuse, I thought to myself. June wouldn’t relent if I just ‘had a feeling’. If I had something to explain this hesitance, she’d back down from understanding.
“The Children of Mr. Bingley? Yeah!” I exclaimed.
June sighed and her shoulders slouched, the first sign of giving up. “It’s just a story. Granted it is set in a weird carnival.”
I inched a little closer to her. “Mom also said she based on something that happened to her when she was a little girl.”
“You’re pulling my leg now,” June huffed.
“I’m serious! She told me the same thing happened to her as a kid. The carnival, he dad being murdered-”
June frowned and crossed her arms against her chest. “Ruby-”
“My mom makes up stories, yes, but I believe her about this. I mean, my grandfather was murdered, even if he deserved it. It was still unsolved and like he was mauled to death.”
June’s expression shifted. “What do you mean deserved it?”
I sighed heavily. “He was very abusive, to my mom, my grandma, anyone he was around. So if someone killed him, it’s not to farfetched. But the way it happened-”
“Okay, okay-” June huffed. “I’ll go on my own, I’ll have fune.” She brightened back up. “You keep surprising me, Ruby.”
I shrugged. “If you only knew.”
Surely enough, when the carnival left, so did June. Deep down I knew she was safe, and every time she called she sounded so happy.
Sometimes my premonitions spoke of distances and places, whispering to me where some strange place was. “Fifty miles away due north.”
“Seventy miles away if you go south-east.”
“Eighteen miles west on Sunday.”
Once June left with the carnival, I realized that location was the carnival. I’m not sure why I have some sort of internal GPS for this carnival. All I can figure is that when I was little, I latched onto the story of the carnival my mother told me about. The story of the carnival and how my grandfather died.
Once June was gone I decided to go back home and move in with my mom. She had been asking me to for a while so it was the perfect opportunity. Also, I knew, as I knew most of these things, that I’d be with the carnival for a long time. It just wasn’t my time yet, but I would know exactly when it was.
It happened one cold afternoon while I was checking the mail. A painfully sharp breeze blew past me and knocked my hat off my head. As I went to fetch it, I took a deep breath and watched as a piece of paper flew towards me down the street. It hit my leg and, before I even picked it up, I knew what it was.
Mr. Faire’s Children of the Night Carnival.
“Now.”
I looked up, clutching the flyer tight in my hands. My guts churned and a surge of cold nerves shot through my body.
“It’s time.”
I picked up my hat from the ground and went inside, still holding the flyer in my hand. I could smell coffee from the kitchen, meaning my mom had come out of her office for a break from writing.
She was leaning over the counter, watching the carafe fill up. She smiled as I came in, although I must have looked like a deer in the headlights.
Her smile softened and her brows lowered. “What’s the face for?”
I was still holding onto the flyer for the carnival. “I’m not sure that was the mail. I think this was just left.”
“Huh,” she looked out the window. “Could’ve sworn I heard the mail truck.” She then nodded to my hand clutching the flyer. “What’s that you got?”
I handed the flyer out to her. She looked it over and she exhaled very slowly.
“It’s back, then.” She hung the flyer up on the fridge, covering up the calender. “It hasn’t changed at all.”
“Is it the same one?” I asked with a very small voice.
“Same name and everything.” She went quiet suddenly, her eyes focused on the flyer and distant at the same time. The air in the kitchen went cold and, for a moment, everything seemed darker.
The coffee pot beeped and my mom snapped out of her trance. “You want a cup?” She asked and went ahead with taking another mug out of the cabinet.
“Yeah.” I turned to look out the window as the sky got brighter. “Might as well.” I took a seat at the table while the carnival continued to whisper at me.
For a few days, the flyer hung on the fridge, like some sort of reminder to pick up milk and eggs from the grocery store. I knew I would have to go soon, it was my time to. I just wasn’t sure how to bring it up to my mom.
Then, one day, I got a phone call from June.
“You’re living with your mom right now, right?” She asked me with an excited and bubbly voice.
“Yeah, I am,” I already knew what she was going to say.
“We’re in the same town then! You should come. I can even leave a special pass for you at the ticket booth. You’d really love it. I know last time you said it made you nervous and all, but...Listen, I really think you should come, you would enjoy it so much. There’s nothing here you need to be afraid of. Everyone is so nice and I really want you to meet Avo and-”
“I’ll come,” I said.
June is silent for a long pause, then she started laughing. “Really? You will?”
I looked out the window and in the distance I could see the silhouette of the ferris wheel. “I think it’s time. Can’t keep putting these things off forever just because of some childhood story.”
“I can’t wait to see you. Ok, I’ll leave a special pass at the ticket booth with Ballura. This is so exciting! You’re going to love it so much, Ruby.”
“How will I find you?” I asked.
“Avo’s troupe usually performs first, so I’ll be in the main tent then. If anything, Ballura will get you to someone who knows how to find me.”
There was a sort of jerk reaction in my body she said that. There was someone I would meet there, and that scared me a bit.
That evening I drove up to the carnival, and it was packed already. Walking up to the ticket booth at the gate, I saw a girl there wearing a red rain slicker with matching boots, hair, and nose, obviously a clown.
“Hi! One ticket today? Or perhaps you’d like a week pass!” She sounded so cheerful and excitable, with a sweet squeaky voice to match.
My stomach rumbled and the nerves in my limbs began to jiggle. “Are you Ballura? My friend June said-”
Ballura gasped and made an exaggerated gesture, spreading out her arms and then slapping her palms against her cheeks. “You must be Ruby!” She squealed excitedly. “She has told us so much about you! Of course!” She pulled out a pass hanging on a lanyard from the desk. “Ta-da!”
I smiled shyly at her as I took it. “Thanks, uhm...June mentioned that you could help me find her? Or someone who could help me find her?”
“Oh, sure,” Ballura bobbed her head. “Just let me get someone to watch the booth for a moment while I-”
As Ballura turned around, a man stepped out from the shadows. Her expression shifts, looking shocked as he nears.
“You scared me!” She fussed at him.
The man laughs, stepping out from the light to reveal a kindly looking face. “So sorry, sweet heart. I just happened to hear the good news.” His dark eyes turned to me. “You’re June’s friend! It’s so exciting to meet you after all this time.”
My heart was pounding and the carnival went silent to me. “Yes, hi-” I wasn’t sure what to say beyond that.
“Let me take you so Ballura won’t have to worry,” he said brightly.
Ballura looked shocked. “Oh, Father, Are you sure? I know you’re busy right now, especially with the main show to start.”
The man grinned, tilting his head to the side so that his long auburn hair fell off his shoulder. “Not busy at all. Just got to meander my way to the main tent, but since that’s where June is anyways, I can lead this lovely lady there.”
Ballura called him father, but he didn’t look like he was old enough to have a child Ballura’s age, whatever that was. He was tall and lithe in form, wearing a red coat with golden accents that tapered at his waist, making him look very trim. His hair looked lovely, but something told me it wasn't his actual hair. His skin was so pale too, I wondered if he painted it.
He then held his gloved hand out to me. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I’m Mr. Faire.”
I was taken aback. “THE Mr. Faire?”
He tipped his hat to me. “The one and only, for the time being,” he laughed.
From what my mother told me, this carnival had always been ‘Mr. Faire’s Children of the Night’. Perhaps Mr. faire was just a title though, as the original would have to be in his eighties at least from what my mother said. This Mr. Faire looked too young and gorgeous.
I took his offered hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“A pleasure for me as well.” Mr. Faire bent at the waist, kissing the back of my hand. “This way,” he led me along a pathway lined by red diamond shapes.
“Is June doing ok here?” I asked
Mr. Faire looked down at me with a smile. “I know you must have your suspicions, but I assure you she is doing very well here! Her and Avo are quite the pair. It does my heart good to see them in such bliss together.”
I frowned a bit, wanting to take my hand away from his grasp. “I’ve been worried about her. People don’t just run off to join the circus these days.”
“Carnival,” he quipped. “There is a difference. She told me you had a slight fear of carnivals. But not to worry. This place is safe and home to some very amazing people. This carnival isn’t like any of the others of the world.” He flourished his hands out to make his point, finally letting my own hand go.
“This is the kind of place where dreams come true.” His hands floated back down to his sides.
His words sounded vaguely frightening. “I’ve heard a lot of cults say the same thing.” I then bit my tongue, shocked I’d spoken that outloud.
Mr. Faire smirked at me, setting his walking cane down and placing both hands on the hilt. “She also told me your mother is a horror writer. But I assure you, I am no villainous trope, Ruby. At least, I really hope I’m not.” He winked.
“No one does. Everyone thinks they’re a hero,” I said as we started walking again.
“I would think the child of a creative person wouldn't rely on tropes so much. Least of all such awful stereotypes.” Mr. Faire points his cane towards a booth. “Do you think all fortune tellers are creepy old hags?”
I hesitated and shook my head. “No! Of course not!”
Mr. Faire smiled at me again. “Good. Because I would hate for you to think of me as some crazy old fool at a carnival. Believe me when I say that your friend, June, is happy and well taken care of. We all adore her here and, because she loves my Avo, I love her.”
I furrowed my brow. “Your Avo?”
Mr. Faire nodded. “I consider everyone here my children and family. I wasn’t blessed with one and have always desired to make a giant one for myself.”
That explained why Ballura called him father.
He must have read my expression. “Nothing creepy or illicit about that at all. No ‘daddys’ here, rest assured!” he wagged his finger as me while he giggled.
I smiled and let out a chuckle. “I certainly hope not.”
Mr. Faire reached out and opened a tent. “Now, this way, this way.”
I walked into the tent, seeing stage hands getting things set up. I then looked aside, seeing a few people working at the light booth.
“Ruby!” June stood up and waved at me. “Come over!”
I rushed over and hugged June tight.
“It’s so good to see you!” June shook me, then quickly sat back down, adjusting something on the control board. “Sorry, give me a second. This has become my job now.”
“Don’t worry, i’m just happy to be here.”
“And she’s very good at it,” Mr. Faire said as he checked over things himself. “Did that one light get replaced?”
June nodded. “We’re working on it. Don’t worry, you’ll look your best tonight. I promise.”
Mr. Faire chortled. “I’m not worried about myself. No one comes to see me at these shows, they’re here for the real event.”
“What is it you do?” I asked,
June snorted and covered up her mouth to force herself to be quiet.
Mr. Faire lifted his head to smirk at me and my heart skipped an actual beat. “I can do a great many things. Just stay and watch, Ruby. I’ll show you a thing or two.”
I swoon for a moment then gather myself up and shove my hands deep into my pockets. Something is whispering to me, telling me over and over: “It’s him. It’s him. It’s him.”
“No showboating,” June warns Mr. Faire.
“I would never,” Mr. Faire grins. He then looks at me and winks. “I should go and get to my spot.”
“Yes, you should,” June fusses. As Mr. Faire walks down towards the center stage, June turns to me and laughs. “Great guy, isn’t he?”
“Not sure,” I murmur. “He’s a little bit odd, isn’t he?”
“Aren’t all the best people just on the furthest side of odd?” June asks me. “Take a seat towards the front, trust me, you won’t regret it.”
I frown down at her. “He isn’t going to do anything to me, is he?” I ask. “I really don’t want to be dragged up on stage by clowns or anything.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” June grins and waves her hand to blow it off. “The clowns don’t go on until after this act. You’re safe from them. Mr. Faire might pull a trick though.”
I glare down at her and she throws her head back laughing.
“I told him no showboating, so he may obey that order.” She turns back to the control panel and whispers something to the guy beside her. “Go on,” she shoos me. “Grab one of the good seats before they’re all taken up.”
I huff and walk down to the front row where I take a seat on the aisle. I sit there, watching as the stage is swept and cleared off and the lights dim down low. Music starts to play, it begins with Bohemian Rhapsody and slowly melts into Mr. Blue Sky, which then turns into Smells Like Teen Spirit. A spot light shines on an old fashioned organ that’s rising up from below the stage. Sitting behind it is Mr. Faire. His hair is now lavender and and is cascading down his back and off his seat to the ground.
As he rises to the top of the stage, he smashes down on the keys and stands up from the organ. He whips his hat off, and as he does, glitter and confetti go flying out on everyone. The way the light catches it makes it look like a burst of stars and galaxy. Then, it all collects in bubbles like some sort of Willy Wonka style magic.
“Welcome!” Mr. Faire announces loudly. "I am your master of ceremonies while you are here with us." He steps down from the organ platform and flips down into the center ring. His lavender wig flips around, somehow transforming into a coif of sapphire blue curls.
"You may have seen my flyers," he grins and places his top hat back on his head. "I am Mr. Faire." He then chuckles and turns, his eyes landing on me. He winks at me again then looks back up towards the rest of the audience. "I know, my name seems quite a bit obvious. Then again, there is nothing subtle here, I can promise you that!" He then extends his hand out and I hold my breath when I see his gloves are gone and black diamonds are engraved into his palms.
"Once again, welcome to all of you who are here! Welcome to the family, and welcome into our home." He extends out his left arm, and with his right hand, he pulls his cane out of the sleeve. He crashes the tip down onto the ground and the organ starts playing music again. "We hope to give you a taste of something more magical and breathtaking than you are used to in your daily lives. So," he grins up into the crowd. "I won't bore you any longer." he raises his cane and the tip of it explodes with fireworks and smoke.
The smoke clears and standing in the center ring are a group of people, all with pure white hair, who start to sing and pose.
“Did you enjoy my entrance?”
I nearly jump from my seat and turn to see Mr. Faire sitting beside me. I could have sworn some old lady had been sitting there just seconds ago.
“How did you-” I look around me, trying to see if anyone else noticed him there.
“Look at the stage!” He grabs my head and turns it too look. Ribbons cascade down from the ceiling and some of the white haired people start climbing up them and using them to dance and swing from. “There’s Avo,” he points. “Just look at them.”
I settle back into my seat and watch the performance. “How can they sing and do acrobatics like that?”
“Not sure. I still can’t quite do it myself,” Mr. Faire sighs, holding his cane under his chin. “It’s not for me, anyways. This is their art.”
I steal a glance at Mr. Faire, seeing a wonder and beauty in his eyes as he watches the show. “Do you always watch from here?” I ask.
“I usually just go backstage,” he leans back in his seat then. “But tonight, I decided to join you.” He pats my hand.
My cheeks burn and I look back up at the performance. “I guess when you see it every night, it tends to get boring.”
“Absolutely not,” he replies. “Every performance is different. The chance of the unexpected is very high with each show. You never know what’s going to happen.”
“I get that,” I murmur.
“I highly suggest coming back,” he replies. “Every night, you’ll see something new and something very much amazing. No matter how many times you show up, it will be different every single night.”
“Are you trying to impress me, Mr. Faire?” I chuckle.
“Quite possibly,” he whispers. “After what June told me, I want to change your mind. I want you to see everything that I see.”
“I think you see more than others,” I whisper back to him. “It may be impossible for me to see as much as you do.”
Mr. Faire smirks and taps his chin. “Well, I have a thought of my own about you, lovely Ruby.” He leans in closer to me. “You see more than you let others know. You probably see much more than any of us. Gifts are gifts, but some may not be worth sharing.”
I turn and look at him, meeting his eyes. “What are you?” I whisper.
“I am but a simple ringmaster who treats his people like his family.” He shrugs and turns back towards the stage. “I am all you want to see.”
After the show ends and the audience starts to leave, Mr. Faire stands up and offers me his hand again. I see the black diamonds on his palm and realize they are neither tattoo or body paint, they’re burns. I take his offered hand and stand up beside him.
“Will you stay for another show?” Mr. Faire asks. “The clowns are up next.”
“No thanks,” I reply. “What sort of food is around here?”
“Tons,” Mr. Faire remarks with a bright smile. “Just follow me!” He leads me from the tent, keeping a grasp on my hand. He shows me to the different food booths where I get my fill of fried foods for a lifetime. Mr. Faire then takes me down ‘Price Alley’ where he wins me a giant stuffed giraffe.
“I really don’t need this,” I grunt as I carry it.
Mr. Faire takes the giraffe, but drops his cane as he does. I reach down, picking it up and as I look at him, I see something else. I gasp, dropping the cane again from the frightening vision I had seen in his place.
“Whoops!” Mr. Faire laughs. “Did I get popcorn butter on it?” He takes his cane up. “A little,” he rubs it on his pants leg.
I’m still recovering. When I blink, I can still see the horrible creature before me. The six arms, the milk white skin. I rub my eyes and take a few deep breaths.
“Ruby?” Mr. Faire says softly. “Are you ok?”
“I, uhm-” I look at him, gazing into his soft expression. “I think I need to sit down for a moment,” I reply.
“Oh, of course,” Mr. Faire gasps. He takes me to an area with picnic tables that’s relatively quiet for the moment. I sit down and Mr. Faire pulls a cold water bottle from his sleeve. “Will this help? I noticed you weren’t drinking any.”
I laugh and take it. “How did you do that?”
“Honestly,” he laughs, placing the giraffe down so he can sit beside me. “You haven’t realized yet that I’m magic?”
“Is there such a thing?” I ask as I crack open the water bottle.
“Of course there is!” Mr. Faire gasps in shock. “How can you say such a thing like that?” He frowns at me and shakes his head. “Magic is important.”
“Magic is sleight of hand or fairy tales,” I say with a shrug. “Nothing wrong in believing in it if you do. But I really don’t believe in it.”
“Magic isn’t just spells and wizards and potions,” Mr. Faire scoffs. “Magic is…” he fumbles as he tries to get his words out. More than that, he struggles to get his feelings out in a way he thinks I could understand. He scoffs in frustration and takes hold of my hand.
“Magic is chemistry between two souls. It’s feelings. It’s power beyond our control.” He looks into my eyes and, for a moment, I feel a push. Whatever whispers to me and causes my gut to react is pushing me, urging me closer to him.
“Magic is that which we do not understand, but so desperately want in our lives.” Mr. Faire says with a beautiful smile. “Do you really not believe in that?”
I swallow, trying to fight back against the pushing. “I’m not sure.”
Mr. Faire brushes his knuckles against my cheek as he tucks my hair behind my ear. “Well then, I’m almost there.”
I go home that evening, clutching the giant giraffe in my arms. I’m not sure what I feel, I am confused and bewildered and completely drawn towards Mr. Faire. He has invited me to come to each of the shows while the carnival is still in town.
“I want to make you believe in magic.” He said. “Well, not make, that sounds forceful. I want to lead you to it.”
I set the giraffe down and sit on the couch for a moment as I catch my breath. My heart is still pounding and my hands are a little shaky. Even after touching his cane and seeing that strange creature where he stood, I feel excited even just thinking about Mr. Faire.
My phone chimes and it’s a text message from June. “What did you do to him?”
“Do to who?” I ask.
“Mr. Faire!” June replies back. “He keeps asking me about you. I’ve never seen him this moony before.”
“Moony? Do people actually use that word?”
“Shut up! He’s totally smitten with you. What did you do?”
“I don’t know,” I answer truthfully. I wasn’t even really sure what he did to me.
“Well, he’s gaga over you. I’ve never seen him this way before. Avo has never seen him this way before. No one here has! This is a big deal, Ruby!”
I sit back and smile slightly. Even though I knew and I was told, I wasn’t prepared for Mr. Faire.
I have been returning to Mr. Faire’s Children of the Night Carnival every evening since I first visited. I had wanted to see my friend, June, but it has become more than that. It has become about seeing the enigmatic ringmaster, Mr. Faire, himself. Whatever powers that guide me have kept me returning to him, although I cannot go on blaming them forever.
While he is extremely strange and unlike anyone I have met before, quite possibly not human, either, although I can’t figure out what he would be, Mr. Faire has captured my curiosity. And yes, I guess I cannot go without saying that he has gone and weaseled his way into my heart as well. I am hesitant with this, since I cannot quite say who or what Mr. Faire is. I am reluctant to fully give in to my feelings, so I return to the carnival each night, if only to figure out the mystery of the carnival and all within it.
Tonight, the carnival is closed to the public. It is an evening where everyone can have a break and enjoy a day off, recovering from the arduous opening week and preparing for the final week in this town. The front gate is closed and locked when I approach, and my heart sinks a little. I had told June I would be coming by, so I half expected Ballura to be waiting at the entrance as always.
The carnival is wrapped up by a fence of alternating black and white fence posts all of varying degrees of height. I could understand why they would have it, to keep people out. But it also seemed like they were trying to hide something that was inside the carnival.
A cold wind blows and I hug my coat around myself tighter. I fluff up my scarf to block the harsh winds and, as I look behind me, snow starts to fall from above. I look up, watching as the flakes cascade down from the heavens, thick and heavy and clinging to the ground already.
“It’s far too cold for beautiful gems to be wandering about on their own.”
I spin around and see Mr. Faire leaning on the gate. “Come on in. We’ve got it nice and warm already.” He extends his hand out to me.
“It’s about time you show up.” I take hold of his hand and he laces his fingers with mine. “I don’t do well in the cold.”
Mr. Faire grins. “As you can tell,” he says as he pulls me in close. “I do very well in the cold.”
I press my palm to his chest as he holds me close. He certainly is warm, but I wouldn’t dare admit that to him yet. “You’re smug, that’s for sure.”
“Smug keeps the heat in,” he teases as he locks the gate back.
The heavy padlock falls onto the wrought iron. The key looks old and handmade in a strange, archaic way. As Mr. Faire tucks it into his pocket, I hear a whispering from the padlock.
“You’re home,” it says.
I turn and look at it with shock and wonder. The carvings on the lock look like a feminine face, but it’s so old and worn, I am not sure. All this time, since I was little, has it just been a lock talking to me? That can’t possibly be right!
“I have hot coffee and cake waiting,” Mr. Faire replies, turning my attentions back onto him.
“I thought for sure this place would be wild,” I sigh. “All the performers and staff having a good old fashioned party.”
“We party everyday of the week for the entertainment of the masses,” he sighs. “On our off days, we enjoy relaxing and quiet. We mingle together or we keep to ourselves.”
“So where are we going?” I ask.
Mr. Faire squeezes my hand tight. “I have been sharing you all week,” he says with a voice as smooth as silk. “I hope you don’t mind that I would like us to be alone today.”
My heart skips a beat as the diamond path goes from gold to white, disappearing as we slip between two tents and come to an old fashioned medicine show wagon at the very back. It looks old, but well taken care of. The paint is faded and chipping, but I can read the scrawling and beautiful calligraphy there.
“Mr. Faire’s Wonderous Trades,” Mr. Faire says behind me.
I glance up at him. “You may be the only Mr. Faire,” I reply, “but you aren’t the first one, are you?”
“You figured out my word play,” he grins. “You’re correct. I inherited the title.” He opens the door to the wagon. “Be careful now, those steps are tricky.” He holds my hand as I walk up and into his home. It smells of coffee and sweets. It’s warm and cozy, filled with twinkling lights and books.
Mr. Faire steps up inside, taking off his top hat so it doesn’t graze the roof. “Have a seat,” he replies. “Make yourself at home, because for today, you very much are.”
I take a seat in one of the overstuffed armchairs and I sink into it. “Oh, wow!” I sigh as I relax into the comfiest thing I have ever sat on.
Mr. Faire chuckles. “Do you like it?” He says as he uses a press to make the coffee.
“I didn’t realize heaven was chair shaped,” I purr.
“How do you take your coffee?” He asks me.
I snuggle into the chair more. “I like it black, please.”
“My, my,” Mr. Faire plates the cake and comes over, setting the treats down on the table beside me, just underneath a vase full of dried eucalyptus. “I should have guessed though. Your temperament is very much the kind that drinks black coffee.”
I sit up, seeing that the cake is red velvet with extremely thick frosting. I take a taste, licking the frosting off my finger.
“I don’t consider myself much of a chef, but I do enjoy cooking for those that I care for.” He sits down in the chair across from me and crosses his long legs. He’s taken off his shoes and is wearing bunny slippers.
“You’re awfully cute for someone who acts so posh on stage.” I say and drink my coffee.
“I like comfort, what can I say?” He says with a shrug. “Speaking of which.” He sets his things aside and reaches up, removing the long black wig from his head. Underneath, his hair is pure silvery gray with streaks of pure white. It’s short, but long enough to be wavy and swooped away from his face. He stands up, placing the wig on a mannequin head and then to a shelf on the ceiling, where there are at least a dozen more.
“Your hair is pretty,” I tell him and he freezes up. “Why do you cover it?”
Mr. Faire turns, running his fingers through his hair. “Who says this is my real hair?”
I stretch my arm out. “Let me touch it.”
Mr. Faire kneels down before me and I comb my fingers through his locks. His hair is soft and downy, and he moans softly as I drag my nails along his scalp and down his neck. I kiss his cheek and he turns his head, meeting my lips and kissing me. He tastes like coffee and icing, so sweet and a little bitter as the same time. I brush his hair from his forehead as the kiss deepens and I feel something sharp on his scalp. I hiss, pulling my hand back to see my knuckles have been scraped.
“You keep razor blades in there?” I huff, my heart pounding from our kiss.
Mr. Faire takes my hand, kissing my knuckles and licking up the small drops of blood there. I flinch as he does, but I don’t pull away from him.
“You know,” I murmur. “I don’t usually like to call the people I kiss Mister after the fact.”
Mr. Faire chuckles. He smooths his hair down, showing me the strange spiky row of horns along his scalp, like teeth, but I really don’t want to call them teeth. “I wear a wig to hide these.”
“You have enough real hair to hide it,” I whisper. “But don’t change the subject.”
He looks down and stands back up, moving to his seat. He takes a sip of coffee, downing the entire mug, actually. “Authaire,” he says after much thought.
“Did you forget?” I ask.
He turns and looks at me, smiling. “I haven’t had to use that in a while. And even that isn’t the real one.”
I frown at him. “Then tell me the real one,” I pout.
He shakes his head. “I’m afraid I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I simply can’t,” he says cooly. “I can’t even remember.”
A shock goes through my body. “Oh.”
Authaire nods and presses his fingertip to the plate, collecting crumbs from the cake and then licking them off. “Long, sad story. But I brought you here to make a short, happy one.” He says, a smile returning to his face. “So, you kissed me.” He then grins, diffusing the tense situation with no effort at all. “Did you like it?”
I huff and glance away from him.
“You did like it!” He gasps giddily. “Tell me everything.”
“You were there,” I snap at him.
“It was good, wasn’t it?” He beams radiantly. “I’ve so been wanting to but, well, I wasn’t too sure about the situation or where I stood with you.”
“You stand beside me, that’s where you stand.” I sip my coffee then look over the rim at him. “It’s a good place.”
“Even with what’s in my hair?” He points to his scalp.
I sigh and set my cup down. “I had a feeling you weren’t exactly...right.” I reply.
“Not human,” he says with a shrug.
“No one here is, are they?” I tilt my head towards my shoulder.
Authaire nods. “Well, there are. June is human. Marlene is half human. Ballura is human. You’re human.”
“What is this place?” I whisper.
“It’s a home,” Authaire answers with a warm, comforting voice. “For all of us here. It’s safety and warmth and protection from the world outside.”
“Hence the fence,” I murmur to myself.
“The people here are my family, my children,” he says. “I took them in when no one else would. That is what I feel I must do while I am here.”
“Because of your scalp teeth?” I ask.
Authaire makes a face and shakes his head at me. “Please! Do not call them that!”
I giggle and hang my head as I grin. I then look back up at him. “So what are you then? An orphanage for wayward boogiemen and ghosts?”
“We aren’t boogiemen and ghosts, Ruby,” he replies. “We are fae and demons, oni and orcs, shapeshifters and vampires, werewolves and goblins. But most importantly, we are family and we are safe.”
“Really?” I gasp in disbelief. “All those things...really? All those...really?” I’m flabbergasted and shocked.
Authaire smiles at me. “You must have had some inkling.”
“Inkling!” I gasp. “But this is so much more! This is worlds upon worlds all opening up at once for me!”
“It’s all one world,” he murmurs. “Our world is not so small. It is massive and full of unseen beauty to it. Beauty that is ignored, punished, and hated because of it. I take care of it when it needs me.”
I shift in my seat, moving so I am sitting a little closer to him. “Alone?”
“Not really,” he answers with a shrug. “But also, yes.”
“Do you want to be?” I whisper. “Alone, I mean.”
“At once, I thought it was enough,” he says with a soft and distant look to his eyes. “I wanted to take care of those here. I thought being father to them was enough-” He closes his eyes and his long lashes fall to his cheeks. “But-”
I stand up and kiss him again. It is gentle and quiet and, because of the cold and snow, the world seems still and empty. Authaire sighs, opening his eyes as our lips part.
“Even knowing I have scalp teeth?” He whispers.
“Ok, yeah, let’s agree to never say those words again,” I grimace.
Authaire grins. “You started it, love.” He pulls me into his lap, kissing me as I fall into his arms. He’s so warm and somehow even comfier than the chair.
I wake up in the dark of the night. It’s all dark and, beyond the wagon, I can hear the wind howling and whipping about. I pull back the curtains by the bed, seeing nothing but white outside. The cold radiates from the glass, so I close the curtains back shut.
A light comes on and I see Authaire sitting in his chair. “Awake now?”
“I can’t believe I fell asleep,” I grump. “That’s so embarrassing!”
“It was a treat for me,” Authaire chuckles and he rises from his seat. “I got to watch you sleep, like some angry kitten.” He pushes his thumb between my brows. “Did you know you scowl in your sleep?”
I move his hand away. “Yes, it’s an issue,” I huff.
“Would you like some coffee?” He asks.
“Is that all you do? Drink coffee?” I ask.
“It’s a majority, perhaps,” Authaire chuckles quietly. “But I feel I don’t need to explain myself to someone who scowls in their sleep.” He grins at me. “Now, do you want some coffee or not?”
I put my arms around his neck, tugging him down into the bed with me and cuddling up beside him. “I’d rather be warm right now.”
Authaire sighs and puts his arms around me as I snuggle to his warm body. I press my cheek to his chest and, inside, I hear a strange, dulled cacophony of rumbling and rolling. I lift my head and place my head on his shoulder.
“I asked you once and you never gave me a real answer,” I murmur as he strokes my hair. “But, what are you?”
“I can’t even remember my real name,” he says with a soft yet dark voice. “How can you expect me to know what I am?”
“Oh,” I say quietly.
Authaire sits up and unbuttons his shirt. He shows me the diamond shaped burns all over his skin. “This is all I have,” he whispers.
I touch them, they start as tight knit as a chain around the base of his neck, growing bigger and farther apart the lower they go. It was like chainmail or some sort of cage on his body of dark, burned diamond marks.
I feel something wet on my fingers and look up, seeing tears in Authaire’s smokey eyes. I sit up, placing a kiss on his lips and wiping the wetness away.
“The first Mr. Faire took me in,” Authaire whimpers and nuzzles into my palm. “He was mortal, but not completely human. He was the one who taught me all about Glamours and how to protect ourselves. He gave me a home and loved me in a world that hated me. Together, we started this dream.”
He sniffles and looks at me. “I do what I do in his honor and because I know how important it is. I know the effects-”
I press my finger over his lips. “You don’t have to explain it to me,” I whisper.
Authaire reaches down and holds up his cane. “This is what controls the carnival and everything in it. It’s what keeps us safe and hidden.”
It wasn’t just the lock calling to me. The magic within Authaire’s cane had been what was speaking to me all this time. It was the guiding voice, the eternal GPS that had been pestering me since I was a toddler.
“I think I know them,” I say as I take the cane in my hand. I look at Authaire, seeing that strange creature again. I let go of the cane, pushing it back towards him. “They keep trying to tell me something,” I grunt as I close my eyes.
Authaire frowns at the cane then touches the top of my head. “What do you mean?”
“All my life, something has been talking to me, telling me things about the future. It gave me a sense and I could see things in advance.” I look back at Authaire. “It keeps showing me behind your Glamour too, but I don’t want to see it without your permission.”
“Oh,” he gasps. “I see.” He sets the cane down again. “That’s not very nice of them.” he then knits his brow together. “But why you, of all people?”
“You killed my grandfather ages ago,” I laugh it off.
Authaire stares at me, eyes wide and his expression aghast. “I did what?”
“It was when my mom was little,” I murmur. “She’s told me this story countless times. But she had gone to this very carnival and the ringmaster had asked all the children to make a wish, something that would make them truly happy. Mom said her wish was that her dad would stop hurting people.”
His brow furrows more and he drops his gaze.
“He was a drunk and an honest to god piece of shit,” I grumble. “One night, my mom woke up and saw this creature outside her window. She told me it was pure white like milk and had six strong arms. But she wasn’t scared of it. Next day, her dad was found dead. People said he was drunk and got hit by a car, but my mom-” I hesitate for a moment and look at Authaire’s face. “My mom says that the monster saved her and her mom.”
“I remember that,” his voice is so small and quiet, it feels like it might shatter like glass. “So, that was your mother?”
“I think it’s sweet that you want to protect everyone like that,” I brush my fingers through his hair, careful to miss the sharp horns beneath it.
“Whatever I am,” he murmurs, “it makes me want to punish evil like that.” He looks into my eyes. “I see a darkness and a decay in someone like that, something that unforgivable, and I want to end it.”
“How many?” I ask with a cracking voice.
“Not enough,” Authaire breathes. “At least, that’s how I feel. I want to do more, I want to be enough, but sometimes that doesn’t feel like what’s right.”
“It is,” I coax him.
Authaire stands up off the bed. “It’s going to be dawn soon. Once morning comes, you’ll see what the magic wants you to see.”
“So you’re like a reverse Cinderella?” I ask slipping off the bed to stand beside him. “You’re going to turn into a pumpkin at dawn?”
“I wish I was merely a pumpkin,” he turns and smiles at me. “But I am not something so cute and plump.” He bends over, kissing me.
“Is something wrong?” I ask him.
“It’s far too cold,” he murmurs. “I can’t send you home in this weather.” He takes my hand and squeezes it. “I still have so much I want to tell you.” He takes up the cane and puts his shirt back on. “I’ll take you to the mess hall. They should have breakfast ready.”
“You really don’t want me to see?” I ask. “Your scalp teeth didn’t scare me, what makes you think extra arms will?”
Authaire frowns at me. “We agreed never to say that again! And it is not just extra limbs, Ruby! It is more than that. It is a different shape, different eyes. More teeth even!” He scoffs. “I don’t want to scare you, Ruby. I told you, I have so much more I want to tell you, but if I scare you away, then they will never get said.”
“Just because you put a different cover on a book doesn’t change the insides of it.” I say and poke his chest. “Whatever strange thing is beating in there won’t change. You’ll always be Authaire, no matter how many teeth you have on your head.”
Authaire laughs and shakes his head, grinning as he starts to laugh. He looks at me, bleary eyed and dreamy. “Appearance is important to me. Especially when I love someone so cute and lovely.”
My cheeks burn and I bite my lip. I bury my head against his chest. “Why’d you gotta go and say something like that, huh?”
Authaire chuckles and rubs my back. “Ok, then,” he says. “How about a game?”
“Huh?” I look up and he suddenly disappears. The wagon vanishes and I’m standing in the center of the mirror maze.
“What the fuck?” I snap as I spin around, seeing only my reflection all around me. I then see something move from the corner of my eye. “Authaire!” I scream.
“Find me,” Authaire replies.
“What?” I snap again. “Authaire!” I bark again. I turn around, seeing my reflection dance and warp around me. I huff, slapping my arms down to my side. “How am I supposed to find you when you don’t even want me to?”
“Left.”
I turn, and see one of my reflections disappear. I move down the path, hitting a mirror and bouncing off it. But inside it, I see something scuttling around the ground behind me. I take off, running down the hall until I cut myself off. I feel along the mirrors until I fall through one and hit the ground.
“Ow!” I whine and hold my face. In the mirror beside me, I see a white shape hiding around the corner. He’s watching me, making sure I’m ok.
“Ow!” I say again. “My nose is bleeding,” I fib.
“No, it isn’t,” Authaire laughs. “I would smell it if it were.”
“This isn’t cute!” I snap, turning around and rushing to where I think he is hiding. I slam into a mirror that is tilted and doesn’t show my reflection. “You say you love me, then you pull some sort of game?”
“Humor me,” Authaire reples.
“Ahead.”
“I just went ahead and it hit me in the face,” I grumble. I press my hand to the glass and it slides open. I step through it and stand in a circle of mirrors. The one behind me shuts again. Behind me, in every mirror, I see a white figure with its back against mine. No matter where I turn or look, his back is still against mine.
“Authaire,” I grumble. “Enough humor! I told you, it’s not your stupid face that matters! It’s your stupid heart and brain!”
“A package is just as important as what’s inside. You can’t claim that appearances don’t matter. Even if I still love what’s inside you, I love your face and your smile just as much.”
“I only have one though,” I huff. “You have like, two, maybe three?” I grunt and throw my hands up in frustration. “I don’t care if you’re alien or predator. Of course I like your Glamour too, but I’ll love your other faces too!”
I feel Authaire’s hand in mine, lacing with my fingers and squeezing. “Are you so certain?” He asks me with a quiet voice.
“Of course I am certain!” I huff. “Authaire, it’s you! I love all of you.”
In the mirror, he turns and puts his arms around me, all six of them. I look down, seeing them wrapped around my chest. I clutch one set of hands as he nuzzles to my cheek.
“Whatever you are,” I whisper. “I love you.”
Authaire moves, placing himself before me. He stands on six of his eight limbs. His neck is extremely long, leading into a flat triangle like head with sharp features and long wisps of his silvery gray hair. His ears stick out and flick and his horns have grown out, going a little down his neck and curling upwards. His body is long and thin and his tail curls all around the circular mirror room twice. The black diamond burns are the only other color on his body. I pull him close, kissing him softly.
“Never trap me in a mirror maze again! You got it?” I snap at him.
Authaire chuckles, stroking my hair. “I promise, love. I promise.” He nuzzles to my cheek and licks up my tears.
“I have always wanted a mother for the carnival, but I had always thought it would be too much to ask for.” He touches my cheek with his warm palms. “You don’t have to be.”
I hold his wrists, keeping his hands smashed to my cold cheeks. “I’ll be with you, what else would I be?” I smile at him. “Can I have some coffee now?” I laugh.
Authaire chuckles and kisses me again. “You can have all the coffee in the world, my love. From this moment on, all the magic I have is yours. It is ours.”
“Actually,” I murmur. “I have an idea about where to get coffee.”
At my house, my mother is awake and making her first pot of coffee for the day. As she’s going to fetch a mug from the sink, there is a knocking at the back door. She steps outside, looking up and staring at Authaire.
“Oh my god,” she whispers. “It’s you.” She raises her hands up around her mouth as she stares in awe at him. “I knew it-” she gulps. “I knew you were real.”
“Mom,” I say as I stand beside her. “This is Authaire. Or, uhm, Mr. Faire.”
He holds his hand out to her. “It’s very nice to meet you again, Abby.”
“Abigail,” my mother laughs as she shakes his hand. “I go by Abigail now.”
Authaire nods and chuckles. “I understand you’ve been doing very well since last we met. I’m glad to hear that.”
“Yeah,” she whispers and then looks at me. “Is he the reason you’re-” she swooshes her hand all around her head.
“Nah,” I shake my head. “Something else was causing that.” I give her a big hug.
“You’re leaving with him though, aren’t you?” She whispers as she squeezes me tight.
“You can always reach me,” I reply.
My mom sighs and sniffles. “I had a feeling when that flyer showed up,” she huffs. “I just had a feeling.”
“I’ll take care of her,” Authaire says gently. “Have no doubt in your mind about that. I will love Ruby until the world comes to an end.”
“I’m sure,” my mom laughs. She kisses my cheek. “You better keep in touch.”
“I will.” I then step back over to Authaire. “If anyone understands the importance of family, it’s this guy here.”
Authaire and I return to the carnival and I am nervous.
“Don’t worry, they already like you here,” he assures me. “No reason to be scared.”
“Yeah, but-” I turn to him anxiously. “I’m kind of ‘mom’ now.”
Authaire kisses my cheek. “They’ve been waiting on you for a long time. Don’t keep them waiting.”
Robin’s antique shop is one of my first memories - or perhaps I should say it’s the first memory I can actually recall. For a long time, Robin and his brother took care of me. Dealing with antiques and taking care of the shop was my first job. Of course, back in those days, it was all behind the scenes, all black market. Robin’s dealings were all conducted in smoky rooms and hidden venues. His inventory was kept in his home, as was I while I healed.
I was taken in after some sort of accident. I had burns shaped like diamonds all over my body, and Robin and Puck tended to me for a long time. I had no memory of my life before, although I had small inklings of who I was. I asked Robin kindly not to tell me if he knew anything, not unless I asked.
It wasn’t until after the First World War that Robin set up a permanent shop, in the same place as before. I like to visit when I can and walk down memory lane from time to time. I consider myself father to all in the carnival, but it is Robin who I consider my father.
I’ve come to his shop today to look for something special. Ruby and I are getting married very soon, and I want to find something extremely precious to give to her as a gift. Robin always has some sort of ‘distant relative’ working in his shop. Today, though, I am happy to see my mother.
“Authaire!” Eira looks up from behind the counter with a bright smile. She rushes around to greet me with a great big hug. “Oh, how wonderful to see you!” She pulls back and looks me over with a grin. “I did not know we would be seeing you today.”
“Special trip!” I announce brightly. “The wedding is fast approaching and I feel I must give my bride a special gift.”
Eira smirks. “She’s already getting you. That’s a special enough gift for her, I would say.” She walks with me as I wander around, gazing at the antiquities.
“She’s the gift!” I chortle. “I am merely a joyous reveler at this point.” I sweep my hand over the jewelry case.
Eira watches me with a close eye. “Is it a ring you want to get her? The one you proposed with would have any girl swooning through half a marriage.”
“I will know the perfect gift when I see it.” I peruse each gem with a close eye. “I simply have to see it first.” I take hold of Eira’s arm. “Anything new I should be alerted to? Anything very old that has only just resurfaced?”
Eira hums in thought as her eyes dart around. “You know, Robin did bring in some huge package the other day. He hasn’t opened it yet, but he did mention it was an important piece.” She motions towards the back room. “Perhaps we should have a look?”
I nod. “Lead the way.”
The back room brings back so many memories for me, having worked there a great chunk of my life. I set it up, and even built the shelves and desk that still line the walls. It had been my first project when I returned from fighting in the War, just before I set out to create my own family.
As we walk through the back, Robin is standing over a large crate. He turns sharply as Eira and I step behind him.
“The hell are you doing here?” He points at me.
“He’s looking for a gift for Ruby,” Eira answers chipperly.
Robin scoffs and rolls his eyes. “She’s agreed to marry you already. You don’t need to keep bribing the girl to stay with you.” He moves to block us from the large flat crate behind him. “Go look over the jewelry case. I am sure there is something there to pique your interest.”
“What is it you’ve got there?” I step aside from Eira and move towards Robin. “Something new?”
Robin juts his arm out. “If I wanted you to see it, I would let you see it.”
I move to the other side, but he lunges and sticks his other arm out. “Oh, come now. As my dearest friend in the world, surely you can share this with me?”
“In all these years, have you yet to learn manners?” Robin moves to block me again. I take hold of his hand, put one arm around his waist and make him dance.
“Let go of me, you crazy idiot! Eira!” Robin snaps.
I spin him around and dip him over the box. I look inside and see a portion of stained glass. Each pane is diamond-shaped and held together by dark iron. My skin crawls and aches along the soft scars that dot my entire body.
Robin shoves me away and scoffs. “You’re not as cute as you think you are! … Oh, crap.” He rolls his neck. “Now you have that look on your face!”
I look at him, my brow pinched tight. “Robin,” I whisper, “what is that?”
“Part of an old, demolished church.” He pulls the lid back over the stained glass. “It had been taken over by cultists who worshipped my father.” Robin glances back at me. “Nothing for you to be worried about.”
The scars continue to sting. “I recognize it, Robin.”
He stills, shoulders going stiff and his fingers twitching. Robin keeps his back towards me as he looks down at the crate. “I didn’t want you to see it.”
“But why do you have it?” I whisper. Eira clasps my hand with both of hers. “Robin, answer me.”
Robin sighs and removes his glasses. He uses the hem of his shirt to wipe them off, then sits down on a crate and slouches over with his elbows on his knees. “My father advised the cultists ages ago how they could best guard themselves against enemies.” His eyes flick to the crate on the ground. “The windows of that church were just one of the methods. I wanted to make sure no one recovered their secret, and that is why I brought it here.”
“But what is it?” I insist.
“A stained glass window,” Robin snaps.
I frown down at him. Eira squeezes my hand. “Robin, what is going on?” she asks.
Robin scoffs. “This window is dangerous to people you like, Authaire. It’s been used against you once before, and I dislike the thought of it ever being used again. Even if it was destroyed, someone could use pieces to figure it out, and--” he stops himself. “I’m protecting you!”
I rub my hand down my arm. “So these scars--” I swallow the lump in my throat. “That window is what did it?”
Robin nods. “That’s all I can tell you.” He lowers his head. “I promised you long ago.”
“I know,” I breathe. “But if I were to ask you to tell me, would you?”
Robin sits up straight and glares me down with a sharp eye. “After all this time, would you want to hear?” he asks.
“Perhaps I owe it to myself at this point.” I lay my hand over my chest. “If I ever expect to be a good father, a good husband, it would behoove me to know the answers to the questions. Even if the past is dark while my present is so light, I could use it as a lesson.”
Robin stands up and approaches me. “Think about it.” He claps his hand down on my shoulder. “Go home and really think about it, Authaire. As your friend, I ask you to do this.”
I nod. “Fine. I’ll agree to that for now.”
I return home to the carnival and seek out my bride-to-be. I find her in our shared quarters, where she is sitting on the bed and scrolling through her phone. She is perfect, so wonderful, a blessing on my soul. I have loved many people in my life, but I have never loved anything the way I love her.
Ruby looks up from her phone and breaks into a smile. “You’re back!”
I return her smile and sweep to the bedside and take her hand. “That I am.” I press a soft kiss to her knuckles.
“Did you get everything taken care of?” she asks me.
I shrug. “Not quite.” I snuggle up beside her and wrap my arm around her waist. “I’ll have to go back later after I think on it.”
Ruby kisses me and I lean into her. I so love her and I desperately want her, but I have sworn to uphold my own values and wait until we’ve married to take her as I would like. It is becoming harder and harder, especially as the wedding day approaches.
“I’m glad you’re home,” Ruby sighs as we part. “I have our honeymoon all set, reservations and everything have been made.” Her gift to me was the honeymoon. Considering I have been everywhere, I left the decision of where to honeymoon up to her. It was her suggestion to make it a surprise for me.
“That’s wonderful.” I kiss her again. “I certainly hope you picked a room with a reinforced bed frame,” I smirk. “Because even if it breaks, I will not let you out of my clutches.”
“Don’t start off our marriage with promises you don’t intend to keep.” Ruby pinches the tip of my nose. “I would hate for you to get my hopes up.”
I bite at her fingertips. “This is a promise I fully intend on making a reality.” I nuzzle to her temple and breathe in the scent of her hair. “I have been planning, plotting, and perversing all this time, you know?”
“Oh my, not perversing?” Ruby gasps. She kisses my neck as I bury myself in her fluffy hair.
“Very perverse,” I growl. “I am not the upright gentleman you think I am, my love.” I smirk at her as she bites her cheek to keep from grinning. “I am most uncouth. Downright animal!” I kiss her and she wraps her arms around my neck. “Despicable,” I moan as the kiss deepens. “Rotten.” I wrap my hands around her waist. “Vile.”
“Authaire,” Ruby whimpers. “You’re doing it again.”
I quickly recover myself and raise my hands in the air like I have a gun in my back. “I did, didn’t I?” I chuckle. Ruby’s face is flushed, and her lips look redder than before. “See what I mean, my love? I’m quite horrible.”
Ruby giggles. “I know you’re excited for the wedding night. I am too. But perhaps we’re playing with fire, sleeping in the same bed every night.”
I glare at her. “Are you suggesting we sleep separately? How absolutely cruel can you be? You know I can’t sleep without you cuddled up beside me.”
“It’s getting dangerous,” Ruby snickers. She bites down on her bottom lip. “I feel like lately I’ve been cuddling your hard-on more than your hard chest.”
My face burns profusely. “I’m so very sorry about that. My dreams are quite vivid, you understand.”
Ruby nods. “I know, big boy.” She pets my hand. “I am only suggesting we sleep separately until the wedding as a precaution. I would hate for you… for us,” she corrects, “to make a last-second decision that we may regret come the wedding night.”
I smirk. “Oh, I doubt we’d regret it.”
Ruby grins and playfully pops my cheek. “Even if I just bring in a separate bed? That way I’m still in the room with you.”
I sigh heavily. “That sounds worse than you sleeping in another tent, because then you’re right there. So close and yet so painfully far away.”
“Then I guess we keep tempting fate,” she shrugs. “Maybe you could jerk off before bedtime, just in case.”
I feel as though I am on fire. “Ruby!”
“What?” she laughs. “I do it sometimes.”
I stop breathing for a moment. “Please tell me that you do not jerk it.”
Ruby sputters as she tries to contain her laughter. “Not jerk, I just--.” she breaks down, almost crying laughing. “It could help, is all!”she says between belly laughs.
“I may have to,” I sigh dramatically. “I am now imagining my perfect, blushing bride in such a manner.” I place my forearm over my eyes. “It’s too beautiful!”
“Alright, calm down,” Ruby scoffs. “How about I go get some food and give you some alone time with that image.” She stands up off the bed. “You know how to do it, right?”
I scowl at her. “I may be old-fashioned, but I certainly know how to pluck a cherry stem!”
Ruby arches her brow at me. “Babe, you worry me sometimes.” She kisses my forehead. “I love you.”
I sigh softly. “I love you more.”
Ruby quickly steps away as I try to grab her. “I’ll bring you back some coffee. Anything else?”
“Just you.” I sigh heavily as she leaves, then I flop back down on the bed and cover my head with a pillow. I have far too much on my mind now. I should be thinking about Robin, and whether having my past revealed to me is the right thing. But the only thing I can even remotely think about is the image of my Ruby pleasuring herself.
I truly am a pervert, but perhaps Ruby is right. If I masturbate even a little, it could help me cool off and clear my mind. I strip naked and sit down at my desk. I look over at the bed, and I can picture my Ruby stretched out upon it. Her hand drifts down her chest, so I flutter my fingers across my skin as well. Ruby’s breath hitches as her fingers slip between her legs. I take hold of myself, stroking gently from the base to the tip. I imagine Ruby’s fingers becoming slick and wet. I see a lot of pink, a lot of softness. I can hear her breath, her moans. I picture her thighs trembling ever so slightly and her toes curling against the sheets. My hand pumps faster, stroking over my shaft. Already the tip is starting to spurt. I can hear Ruby’s gasps of pleasure, her whispering my name over and over. I imagine what it is like to place my tongue against her as she breathes deep.
I shudder, spurting into my palm as my body jerks. I snarl, feeling my glamour flicker for a moment. I grit my teeth and arch my back as I release into my hand and on my stomach. I breathe hard as I slump into the chair. I feel relieved, but also a bit ridiculous. I clean myself up and take shower before Ruby gets back.
Just as I’m stepping out in my pajamas, Ruby has come back with the coffee she promised me. “Oh, good - you didn’t run away.” I kiss the top of her head as she places the steaming cup in my hand,
“You’d find me, what would be the point?” Ruby’s eyes give me a once-over. “Anything eventful happen while I was away?”
“No,” I scoff. “Merely a perverted old man sitting alone with his thoughts.”
Ruby bites her bottom lip again. “Sounds fun.”
I crawl into bed, watching as Ruby gets her things ready for a shower. “My love,” I murmur, “can I ask your advice on something?”
Ruby turns to look at me, a pensive look settling on her lovely face. “Of course. Is something wrong?”
I shake my head. “Not necessarily.” I hold my hand out to her and she comes to sit beside me. “If there was a way I could recall my past, every detail - even the bad - would you think it was a good or a bad thing?”
“Oh,” Ruby glances down. “I suppose it depends. If it would hurt you, I would hate it. But at the same time, there could be good in it.” She looks up at me again. “As long as you remain the same sweet, wonderful you, that’s all that matters.” She cups my cheek. “But if it is something you felt was right, or even if you needed it, I would hold your hand through it.”
I sigh deeply and kiss the center of her palm. “I know you would.” I look into her eyes and I know my answer. “Will you come with me tomorrow to see Robin?”
A knowing look comes into her eyes and she smiles. “Of course.” She leans closer to me and presses her forehead to mine. “I’ll follow you anywhere, my love.”
I wrap my arms around her again. “I’m scared,” I whisper.
Ruby grasps me tight. “It’s okay to be scared.” She pulls back and holds my face between her palms. “This is something that deserves to be scared of. But it is your past, and it is you. I want to know everything about you, good and bad.”
I smile at her as her warmth floods through me. “And I want to share everything. It is the least I can do.” I kiss her. “I love you.”
“I love you more,” she coos.
“Impossible,” I grin. I kiss her again and again, and moan as I try to tear myself away. “I don’t think your helpful hint worked.”
Ruby giggles. “I’ll have to take a cold shower, then.” She steps away from the bed as we separate. “Perhaps we’ll just sleep with a pillow between us.”
“When we’re married, is this going to be an issue?” I tease.
Ruby shakes her head. “Nah. When we get married, we won’t want any more,” she teases.
I toss a pillow after her as she goes off to the bathroom. I flop back down on the bed, my nerves eating away at me.
The following day, Ruby and I go to the antique shop. The sign says they’re closed, which is odd. The shop is always open. I use my own key to unlock the door, and we walk inside.
“How strange,” I whisper. “I’ve never felt the place this… still.”
Robin walks out from the back and waves to me. “I’ve been expecting you.” His voice is serious.
“You knew I’d come?” I ask.
Robin nods. “Both of you.” He looks to me, then Ruby, and nods. “This way.”
We follow him to a door in the back I’ve never seen before, which opens onto a small parlor. There’s an old sofa and matching chairs, as well as a coffee table with coffee and snacks set on it. All around the room, there are framed pictures of me and the carnival posters through the years. There are old newspaper clippings about me ranging from the day I enlisted, up until my donations to the Hearthway Hollow nature preserve.
“Is this creepy or sweet?” I ask Robin.
Robin looks back at me and takes off his glasses. “Think of it what you will, but I am proud of you, Authaire. I have always thought of you as my own.” He takes a deep breath and motions to the sofa. “Now, sit down.”
Ruby squeezes my hand as tears flood my eyes.
Robin takes a box from a shelf and he opens it. Inside is a small satchel that he places on the table before me. “Open it.”
I cautiously take the bag and, as I open it, several objects fall out. They look like bone. I stare up at Robin like he is crazy.
Ruby gasps loud and her hands flutter around her mouth. “Your scalp teeth!”
“His what?” Robin balks in disgust.
Ruby takes one of the objects and she removes my wig. As she combs through my white hair, she sets the object down on one of my supposed ‘scalp teeth’. The object attaches and grows out. I wince in pain and gnash my teeth. As they meld back together, it feels as though electricity is going through each nerve in my skull, leaving through my teeth. My glamour flickers, and I let out a growl. As Ruby stands back from me, I breathe deep and shudder.
“They’re your horns,” Robin whispers. There is a pained expression on his face, and he has his hands clutched behind his back. “Once they’re attached again, your memory will return.”
I look at Ruby, teary-eyed. “Will you help me?”
Ruby kisses me and takes my horns into her hands.
I was left on earth to die. I had not been strong enough, and I was remade into one of the fallen. Debased by one side, and refused by the other, I was the outcast of outcasts. For ages I wandered, trying to find a place I could call home and make a family of my own. No matter where I went, I was always found out. I could not hide it for very long.
I was not an angel. I was not a demon. I was not even a man, but I was sure that I was not nothing. I was something, just what that was, I didn’t know. I was not one for giving up, so I kept moving, going wherever I could for as long as I was allowed.
Weak and tired, I collapsed in a valley near a spring. I drank deeply of the water, feeling refreshed for the first time in… I could not remember. As I raised my soggy head from the cool waters, I noticed I was not alone. Nearby, there was a man sitting on a stone. He was strong of body, rugged, and with a devilish glint to his eyes. He was all white as I was, and his legs were covered in thick, woolen fur, capped with silvery hooves.
“You’re a stranger if I ever did see one!” he laughed, and leaned forward. His grin was unnerving, but it had been so long since I had seen a kind face. “What brings you to my woods, stranger?”
I sat up in alarm, fearing I would be beaten and driven away again. “Please. I’ll leave. I was just so thirsty.”
He looked me over with those black eyes. “Then are you hungry?”
I gasped softly, unsure how to respond. If I answered incorrectly, I could get hurt again.
He slipped off the stone and crossed through the spring towards me. “You must be hungry.” He stepped up onto the shore beside me and stuck out his hand. “You’re in my country now, stranger. You will be under my care as long as you are here. Now tell me, what do you call yourself?”
I rasped slightly, in disbelief that such a beautiful creature was talking to me kindly. I bowed my head low. “I do not have a name anymore. I am not nothing - though, believe me when I say that I am something!” I looked up at him in awe. “What that is though, I no longer know.”
Looking back now, I know that his smile was not genuine. In fact, had I not been so starved for love and acceptance, I would have seen it then. But I took his smile as kindness, and as a genuine outreach of friendship.
“My name is Pan.” He took hold of one of my hands. “And from now on, the something that you are is a friend. From this point on, I will call you Diamantaire.”
I had never been called friend before, and Pan was so lovely that I actually felt blessed. I stayed in Pan’s woods, a pet to the old Satyr. I did not realize it at the time, nor did I understand how he controlled me. I was simply happy to have a friend and a place I could call home.
Pan had many people around him back then, beautiful men and women of all kinds. He also had lots of children, something I came to envy Pan more than anything for. I loved to watch over the children as they played. Their smiles brought me joy, and their laughter was my greatest music. I knew that Pan called me friend, but in the deepest parts of my heart, I knew the something I was supposed to be was a father.
One afternoon, Pan was away from his woods and I noticed two of his young sons were playing near the edge of the forest. Both were young and handsome - one was willful, one was cranky. They looked like their father, but there was something about their eyes that set them apart. It would not be until years later that I realized it was a soul.
The two young boys, Robin and Puck, were gathering sticks from the woods, intent on using the limbs to build a treehouse of their own. I followed along beside them, watching them as they scoured the forest floor for big enough sticks. I went ahead of them, tearing down tree limbs to lay in their wake for them to find. Watching them get excited over it made me feel a greater happiness that I had never known before.
“Wait,” Robin, the eldest, stopped for a moment and scoffed at Puck. “Doesn’t this seem weird to you?”
“Your face is weird, but it has never bothered me before,” Puck said with a shake of his blond head.
Robin scowled, his dark curls falling before his eyes. “No, you nitwit! Look!” He pointed to one of the limbs I had just pulled down for them. “It’s fresh.”
“So? Tree limbs fall down all the time,” Robin grunted. “Why are you so worried about it?”
Robin started scanning the trees, looking up in them. “Because if Father thinks we were going around and taking whatever we wanted from his woods, he’d beat us half to death.”
I shivered all over. That couldn’t possibly be true! Pan was kind. He was a good father. He’d never raise his hand to his children, let alone his eldest sons.
Puck suddenly looked distraught as he glanced around. He sorted through the limbs they had in their cart. “There’s a lot of them.”
“Leave them,” Robin insisted. “I won’t be getting in trouble for this!” They left the wood in a pile and readily went on their way home.
I thought for sure they must’ve been mistaken. There must’ve been a reason they were reacting this way, but I doubted that Pan would act cruelly towards them. I gathered up the limbs and left them in their backyard.
That evening, when Pan returned home, he saw the wood and he called his sons to his side. I watched, curious to see why Pan even cared why limbs were cut down. Pan seemed angry, but perhaps he was trying to teach the boys a lesson. But when Pan slapped Robin hard enough to knock him down, I realized my mistake.
Then Pan turned his attention to Puck, going towards him with a look of horrible rage in his eyes. He lifted his hand to strike the child, but I would not have it. I rushed out and put myself between Pan and Puck.
“What is that?” Puck gasped in horror.
“Please! My friend!” I cried to Pan. “Don’t hurt the boys, I was the one who did it! They only wanted to build a playhouse. I tore down the limbs for them to find.”
Pan steadied his hand and glared at me. His teeth were bared, and there was a darkness in his face I had never seen before. Puck rushed around me and went to Robin’s side. The dark-haired boy’s nose was bleeding and his eyes looked bleary.
“Is this true, Diamantaire?” His voice seethed like a simmering pot.
I nodded at him. “Yes, my friend,” I whispered. “I swear to you, I was only trying to help your sons! I simply wanted them to be happy and smile.”
Pan chuckled and lowered his hand. “My, my, the innocence that you have.” He reached out and petted the top of my head, between my horns. “Did I ask you to look after my blood?” He asked.
I looked up cautiously at him. “No, my dear friend.”
Pan sniffed, and his smirk grew a little more wicked. “Did I ever tell you that my trees needed pruning?”
I shook my head. “No, my dear friend,” I whispered.
Pan clicked his tongue and nodded. “That is what I thought.” He grabbed one of my horns and snapped it off.
I cried out in pain. The agony was indescribable and I fell backwards, writhing on the ground. Pan stood over me and kicked me as hard as he possibly could.
“You do as I tell you!” he screamed at me. “That is your role! That is why I keep you here!” He kicked me again as I began to cry. He spat on me then tossed my horn aside. “How pathetic you are. Learn your lesson, Diamantaire. I named you. I gave you purpose. Do not disobey me again.”
He walked away, leaving me sniveling and whimpering on the ground. I shivered and convulsed as pain continued to ripple through my body and out of my broken heart.
“Let’s go,” I heard Puck whisper.
“We can’t,” Robin hissed softly. “It stood up for us.”
“Robin, don’t! We don’t know what that thing is!” Puck shouted after his brother.
Robin knelt down beside me and his small hand touched one of my arms. As I looked up at him, I saw the blood on his nose and the bruising under his eye. I reached up to touch him and he caught my hand in his.
“Are you okay?” I whimpered.
Robin frowned down at me. “Why did you do that? Don’t you know who my dad is? You’re lucky he wasn’t mad today.”
“He’s my friend. He saved me,” I rose slowly from the ground. Puck had picked up my horn and was looking back at Robin and me.
“My dad isn’t friends with anybody,” Robin laughed. “The sooner you learn that, the better.” He smiled at me, and for the first time, it was a truly kind smile. “I’m Robin, and that’s my baby brother, Puck.”
“I am not a baby!” Puck snapped.
Robin grinned. “Who… What are you?”
“I am not sure on either.” I slouched down. “I thought I was a friend. Your father called me Diamantaire.”
“He can give him a fancy name, but my name is Puck?” the blond boy scoffed.
Robin rolled his eyes. “Well, you can still be a friend,” he told me. “But you can be ours when our dad isn’t looking.”
I sniffled and rubbed at my face. “Why would you do that for me?”
“Because we hate our dad,” Puck joined in. “So doing anything behind his back to piss him off is really fun.”
“We know what it’s like to be kept under his thumb,” Robin murmured. He extended his hand to me. “We can protect one another.”
I took hold of Robin’s hand, and from that point on, I never let go of it.
As the boys grew, I continued to watch over them. I also kept a close eye on Pan’s brides and grooms, who he kept in his wood as his playthings. As Puck and Robin became young men, they started helping those trapped by Pan to find their own freedom. With my help, we were able to safely lead them away from the wood. Pan was so self-involved, he sometimes never noticed the lesser ones missing.
Robin had fallen in love with a beautiful nymph named Eira. Pan wanted the nymphs all to his own, so Robin and Eira had to keep their romance a secret. I could tell the relationship made Puck agitated, and he would often come to me when he was most perturbed.
“He’s so stupid! He should know better!” He chucked stones into the spring while I sat beside him.
I smiled at him. “I’m sure he’ll say the same thing to you when you fall in love.”
Puck glared back at me. “I’m not going to be stupid.” He tossed a rock that ricocheted and hit him in the ankle. He cussed and plopped down on the ground.
I placed my hand on top of his head. “You’re worried about him. I am too.”
Puck grumbled and snarled under his breath as he rubbed his bruised ankle. “If our father finds out, he could die.” He looked up at me, his blue eyes wide with worry.
“If he tries, I’ll take his place,” I assured Puck.
“But...” There was a hitch in his voice. “I don’t want you to die, either.”
Puck was never forthright with his feelings - he was always dour and grumpy. I knew Puck cared deeply for things, or else why would he so desperately try to hide it? But hearing him say that cut me deeply, and I knew how worried he truly was.
“It will all be okay. I promised to always watch over you two, and I will do everything in my power to do it.” I patted his back. “So do not fret so and do not be angry at your brother for what all healthy young men do.”
Puck scowled again. “Don’t tell him I said that, okay?”
I nodded. “Okay.”
Not long after, Puck came tearing through the woods, screaming for me. Pan had found out about Eira and Robin. He had already taken away the poor nymph, and Robin was on his way to challenge his father. I ran ahead of Puck to find Robin. When I came across him, he was seething with rage and clutching a sword. I tried to talk to him, but he was listening only to his anger.
“You cannot do this! Let me speak to your father for you!” I tried to reason, but Robin knocked me aside.
Puck came along and helped me off the ground. “Diamantaire, what are we going to do?” he whispered.
“Go back to your mothers,” I told him. “Do not get caught in the crossfire. Act as if you didn’t have a clue.” I grabbed his shoulders and shook him. “I will take care of your brother. Go.”
Puck didn’t want to listen, but he knew I was right. He gathered himself and left, running back home to their mothers. I followed alongside Robin, who kept trying to strike me to send me back or scare me away.
“Why are you following me?!” he screamed, tears streaming down his face. “Go away! I don’t need you!”
I remained silent.
“This has nothing to do with you! Leave me alone!” He ran ahead, charging towards his father’s temple.
The building was made of stone, and all the windows were made of red stained-glass diamonds. Pan’s worshippers had built it for him, and it had become both his home and the altar which he was worshipped upon.
I chased Robin inside, where Pan and his followers were waiting. Pan looked down from the altar as Robin rushed inside, halting as the worshippers blocked his path.
“Where’s Eira?” Robin screamed. “Give her back to me!”
“You stole her from me.” Pan stood up from his throne. “How dare you be so arrogant? I raised you to be better.”
“You didn’t raise me at all!” Robin cried. “You hold me by the throat, but you did not raise me!”
I came up behind Robin, rising up to tower over him and the worshippers. The worshippers shrunk away, terrified by my visage.
“Diamantaire, I expected better of you as well,” Pan sneered. “Have you come here to talk me out of beating this idiot again? Is it somehow your fault?”
“No, my dear friend,” I answered him.
I heard Robin’s breath catch.
I stiffened my jaw. “I saw him coming here with sword brandished. I wanted to make sure my friend was safe.”
Pan smirked. “I was worried, my friend,” he chuckled. “I am relieved to know whose side you are on. Take care of your friend.” He nodded towards Robin.
Robin screamed and started to charge at the worshippers. I grabbed hold of him and threw him from the temple. The doors instantly shut, and I was locked inside while Robin banged on the door.
“I see.” Pan stepped down and the sea of worshippers parted for him. “You’ve made your choice, have you?”
I glared down at him. “Leave the boy be. Do not harm him anymore. Take everything you have out on me! Every trespass he does, every twinge of regret he makes you feel, make it mine to bear.”
Pan grinned at me. “You’ve always been a sentimental fool. Your appearance deceived even me all those years ago.” He sniffed and turned his head away. “Fine. From now on, you will take the punishment my son incurs, though he will not know it. But know this - I will not go easy on him. Even if a breath annoys me, you will know it!”
Pan snapped his fingers, and his worshippers surrounded me. “Take him above,” Pan commanded. “If he is lucky, the red room will be his crypt.”
I was taken upstairs, unsure if Pan would keep his word and spare Robin. The red room was made of red stained glass fashioned into diamonds. I was strapped down to the floor, and there I stayed. During the day, the heat of the sun burned the red diamonds into my skin. At night, I was beaten or flogged while Robin’s supposed crimes were listed to me. This went on for days, months, years - I was not sure. I took it all, just for my friend.
One day, there was a horrible storm. I found respite from the burning diamonds, and I said prayers that might have been my last. As I closed my eyes, the sky fell on me. A tree crashed through the red glass, shattering it and opening the world to me again. As rain fell on my face and I felt the cold, whipping winds, I was renewed.
“He’s here!” A figure jumped down from the tree, quickly followed by another. My restraints were removed from me and gentle hands lifted me up.
“We’re here! It’s okay!” The voice was familiar, but it was aged from when I last heard it.
“Robin,” I whispered. “Oh, good. You are alright.”
Tears streamed down Robin’s face as he held me. Puck was examining me, and there were tears falling from his eyes as well, which he excused as the rain. The two of them removed me from the red room, and from Pan’s woods altogether.
Puck took care of my wounds and injuries. He had become a doctor during my time in the red room. Robin was fretting, panicking over my condition. His guilt was palpable, but I needed to assure him I had no ill feelings.
“Why would you do something like that?” Robin cried at my bedside. “It wasn’t worth it! It wasn’t!” He sobbed bitterly every time he looked at me.
“I love you, Robin,” I told him. “You were my first friend, and you were like my own.” I reached out and patted the top of his head. “I would do it again, no question.”
“Your nightmares...” Robin blurted. “Even with all the pain, all the screaming, the fact you no longer sleep, you aren’t healing! You’re going to die, and for what?” He was breaking. “I am not worth it.”
I smiled at him. “You and Puck are very worth it.”
“There’s something we can do,” Puck murmured from his corner. His blue eyes appeared gray now, clouded. “If we take his memory, the stress placed upon him could alleviate and he could heal.”
“But...” Robin whimpered. “His memory… All of it?”
Puck nodded. “He has one horn left,” he replied. “If we remove it, it’ll be like he’s made new. He’ll go to sleep, and when he wakes up, he’ll start over.”
“But...” Robin looked at me.
I took hold of his hand. “I don’t want to leave you alone again,” I whispered. “If this means I’ll get to watch over the two of you a little bit longer, then I’m okay with starting new.”
Robin wiped the tears from his face. “Are you sure?”
I nodded. “But you must make me two promises.” I held up two fingers. “One, I want you to give me a new name when I wake up.”
“Of course,” both boys agreed.
“And two,” my breath rattled, “unless I ask you, tell me nothing of who I used to be. If I am starting new, I will start the way all children do.”
“I’ll take care of you, I promise.” Robin kissed my forehead, and in that same moment, Puck took my last horn.
I went into a deep sleep as my body healed. Everything reset, and when I awoke, I saw a stranger sitting at a desk, going over papers. He seemed to sense someone was looking at him and he turned from his desk. He adjusted his glasses and he smiled at me in a way that made me feel safe.
“Authaire! Good to see you.” He came to my bedside and took my hand. “How do you feel?”
I blinked a few times as I looked at him. “Who are you?”
Sadness wavered over his face for a moment. “I’m Robin,” he told me. “And I am going to take care of you.”
From then on, Robin took me under his wing. He gave me a glamour so that I would blend in with the world around us. He took me on his treasure hunts, and we sought out ancient treasures. Robin’s goal was not merely to collect the relics of ages past, but to rescue others. The treasures he sought were often prisons for the creatures inside them. Djinn, ghosts, lost souls, and broken works of art were what Robin searched for. He also worked to right the wrongs his father did in the world.
It was during the start of the First World War that I felt a calling. While Robin was against it, I enlisted. It was while I was overseas I met a small band of traveling performers. They put on shows for the troops, smuggled children away from war zones, or helped people with nothing to evacuate and escape overseas. Muna and Fye lead this troop, and they saw me underneath my glamour and accepted me.
It was because of them that I stayed in Europe and joined their traveling carnival. Using what I had learned from Robin, I was able to find others like me who needed a place to call home. I hated being away from Robin, but I felt called once again to do this.
At the start of the 1920s, I took my new family home with me. I visited with Robin and asked him what I could do for these lost souls.
“What do you want more than anything, Authaire?” Robin asked me. He patted his fingertips over my chest. “Look deep inside your heart, and you’ll find the answer.”
I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath. “I want a family.”
Robin nodded knowingly. “Then you take them and you grow your family, Authaire. I’ll give you supplies, help you build your carnival. Do what you feel is right and travel this world, saving the lost, taking care of the sick, loving the unlovable. Just like any parent would do for their children.”
I hugged Robin tight. “I love you, Robin.”
“I love you too, my friend - my son.” Robin pulled back, removing his glasses and wiping his eyes. “You brat. You’ve gone and made me cry.”
We laughed then and, together, we worked on building up the carnival. Robin created a character for me that I could use to take the center stage, and he called me Mr. Faire.
“I’ve never quite known what I was,” I told Robin before we were to leave. “But I’m starting to think I know.”
Robin placed a top hat on my head. “Just remember, you are never nothing,” he whispered. “You are a friend, and the kindest one in the entire world.”
I traveled the world after that - worlds, actually. Using the powers that Muna and Fye had, we were able to go anywhere we were needed. My family grew, my carnival grew, and my horizon was endless.
“Authaire?” Ruby whispers to me. “Are you okay?”
I look up through tears, seeing her and then seeing Robin. I blink several times as the tears fall. My horns have reattached and, with them, all my memories.
“You did all that for me?” My voice breaks as I speak to Robin.
He nods. “And I’d do it again too.”
I know it is going to be hard to sleep tonight. Aside from the general nerves and anxiety, Ruby isn’t in bed with me. She’s sleeping in a tent with her bridal party, so she can get up and ready easier in the morning. It is also a nice romantic gesture, sleeping apart so that on our wedding day, we’ll be even more giddy and excited to see one another. It’s still torture. I have come to rely on her sleeping beside me, keeping me warm, filling me with joy.
I sigh heavily as I stare up at the ceiling, missing her while also knowing that tomorrow we will never be apart again. I can’t wait for morning, when I could get up and rush through the day so I can stand at the altar and watch her walk down the aisle. I have never seen her dress, not even a hint of it, and I giggle to myself when I try to picture what she looks like.
“Are you decent?” The whisper cuts through the shadows of the bedroom and I sit up like a shot. Peering through the darkness, I see Ruby slip in through the tent and tiptoe towards the bed.
“What are you doing here?” I demand, grinning from ear to ear. “We’re supposed to stay separate until the wedding!”
Ruby slips under the blankets and snuggles up next to me. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“Oh, my poor bride,” I sigh happily as I nuzzle to her hair..
Ruby rests her cheek onto my chest and combs her fingers through my long white hair. “I know you couldn’t sleep either.” She kisses my chest, then hooks her leg around mine. “I figured we could not sleep together.”
I can’t help but laugh a little too hard at that. “Phrasing, my love.” I rub her shoulder as we both chuckle together. “To think, just one night separates us from our wedding day. All this time waiting.”
Ruby sighs and places her arm across my chest. “You’ve been waiting a lot longer than I have.”
“That doesn’t matter,” I murmur. “I have you now, and we have a whole future spread out in front of us that is endless and wonderful.” I yawn and struggle to keep my eyes open. “We’ll be together always.”
“Tired?” Ruby murmurs.
“Not at all,” I sigh. “Just, need to rest my eyes a moment.”
Ruby simply moans in reply, and before we know it, both of us have fallen asleep in each others’ arms.
“You owe me five bucks.”
“I should have known better. Stupid people in love.”
I wake to the sounds of Muna and Bron arguing. I rub my eyes, looking up to see Muna, Bron, and Fye are putting things in order for me to get ready.
Ruby snorts once and her eyes flutter open. “What?”
“You’re not supposed to be here, you silly girl!” Muna pulls back the blankets from us and tosses them aside. “Get up! Both of you!”
“Good morning,” Ruby grumbles.
“Get out of here,” Muna scoffs. “Your bridal party is running around like chaotic hens. Go take care of them before they destroy the carnival.”
Ruby tilts her head side to side as Muna talks. “I will, I will,” she yawns, trying to placate him. She then turns to me and smiles. “I’ll see you later.”
“Right, I will.” I lean in to kiss her, but Muna puts his hand between us so I kiss the center of his palm.
“Save it for the ceremony!” Muna scolds as Fye picks Ruby off the bed and carries her out the door. “People will want their money's worth.”
I cock a brow at Muna. “What money?”
Muna claps both hands on my cheeks. “From this point until you say ‘I do’, you are to obey me without question. Now get the hell up and sit down in that chair!”
I rub my freshly slapped face and grumble as I get up. “This is supposed to be a happy and exciting occasion. Why are you acting like a drill sergeant?”
Muna pushes me down into the chair and grabs hold of my shoulders from behind. “Because weddings are a war, my dear friend. Weddings are a battlefield of drunk relatives, jealous colleagues, and high anxiety.” He starts taking up my hair to comb it. “These fucking horns,” he scoffs. “They’re going to make tending to your hair such an issue now. It’s a good thing you wear that damn top hat all the time.”
“But this isn’t a regular wedding,” I try to argue.
“That’s what they all say.” Muna grabs my chin in his hand and makes me look into the mirror. “This wedding is more than about vows and undying love. This is a pompous ritual performed for the people, not for you and your blushing bride.”
I side glance at him. “My friend, you’re terrifying me.”
Muna releases my jaw. “Marriage is terrifying,” he warns me. “Trust me. I have been married to two of the most horrifyingly powerful women in the world, and I am a very happy man.” He says this with a grin. “But it is hard work, sometimes you’ll feel it, sometimes it will seem like nothing. But it is effort at all times from both of you.”
I chuckle softly. “I know all this, Muna.”
“Do you?” He tugs my hair as he starts combing again. “I have known you for a long time. You are very dear to me and I owe you everything that I have now. You brought my Bron back to me, you’ve given me a home, all while allowing me to be the jackass that I am and loving me despite it.”
“You make it easy, usually,” I smile.
Muna’s fingers are gentle as they comb through my hair, separating it out as he starts to braid it. “I want to see that you are happy, because you deserve that more than anybody. You have earned it more than anybody.” His fingers work fast, making intricate pleats of the braid.
“Now then,” he sighs. “Do we need to talk about the birds and the bees?”
“Muna!” I fuss.
“You’re an innocent, my dear friend,” Muna chuckles. “Purest of pure, sweetest of vanilla.” He walks around the front of the chair and opens up a cosmetics bag. “As someone who tends to two lovely vulvas regularly...”
“No! No!” I shake my head rapidly.
Muna grabs one of my horns to stop me. “This is my wedding gift to you.”
“I don’t want it,” I grimace.
Muna plops moisturizer into my face and starts rubbing it in. “Foreplay is important. I know you’re a virgin and excited, so I am warning you not to go plowing in before your beloved has been tended to.”
“Muna! Please! Have mercy!” I whine as he massages my face.
“Being a demon, I suspect your package is impressive while also being quite unique.” Muna takes smears the cream thickly over my face. “So depending on that, you may have to properly prepare Ruby.”
“My package is fine!” I scoff. “Are you intending on making me uncomfortable?”
Muna glares at me from the mirror. “No, I am intending to give you a radiant glow that matches your bride. Just because you’re a man doesn’t mean you can’t take care of this beautiful face of yours. I am simply passing down wisdom from one happily married man to a future one.”
“I’m not as innocent as you would think,” I grumble.
Muna laughs, throwing his head back. “Oh, yes you are.”
Muna’s torture of me continues until lunch, when Lancelot and Emberlie bring in my tuxedo. Emberlie and the children handmade the entire thing. The fabric is a deep red, almost black, with swirls of gold stitched in. The vest is hand-embroidered with images from the carnival.
“Where’s my best man?” I ask urgently. “He was supposed to be here.”
Those around me hesitate for a moment, glancing idly at one another before going on about their business again.
“There was a minor emergency, sir,” Haytham says to me. “Robin and Puck were dealing with it to spare you the stress.”
“Emergency?” I ask. “What sort of emergency?”
“A wedding dress fiasco,” Puck says as he comes into the tent.
I stand up suddenly, knocking over Emberlie, who was taking a lint roller to my jacket as a final touch. “Wedding dress fiasco? What happened?”
Puck holds up his hand to try and soothe me. “Nothing to worry about. Robin is taking care of it, and the bride. I’ve come to placate you with the usual wedding banter.” He playfully punches my arm. “Buddy.”
I shake my head. “Don’t try, Puck, please.”
He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “I’ve had enough, anyway.”
“So what happened?” I press. “Is Ruby okay?”
“Frazzled, but in one piece. My Buttercup is with her as well, telling her the horror story that was our wedding day to assure her this is nothing in comparison.”
“But what happened?” I shake my hands at him. “What happened to her wedding dress? Was it fire? Oh god, did she catch on fire? Did she trip? Did the dress rip?”
Puck shakes his head. “None of those things. They were having wine with lunch, and well...” He grimaces. “Wine does what wine does.”
“Oh, my poor Ruby,” I gasp. “She must be devastated.”
“Robin and Eira took her to the shop to find a new gown from their collection.” Puck pets my lapels to lay them flat. “She’ll be fine.”
I frown a bit, remembering how excited Ruby had been over the wedding gown she had selected. She found it while shopping with her mother, and I remember her coming home so excited about it.
“I need to use the restroom.” I lie, and sneak away when no one is paying attention to me. I sneak through the carnival, going towards the tent where the bridal party is all gathered outside. I slip inside, and Ruby gasps out loud.
“It’s just me,” I assure her. “I came to see if you were okay.”
Ruby pulls her skirt up over herself. “You can’t see me!” she cries. “It’s bad luck.”
I kneel down beside her. “I don’t believe that for a moment.” I smooth down the crinoline under her skirt. “Ruby, what happened?”
Ruby whimpers from under the skirt. “I thought it would be okay,” she sniffles. “I thought just one glass. You know?”
I rub her leg as she blubbers through the tale.
“But it just… and it was all slow motion… and I couldn’t...” She breaks down crying, and I move her skirt away. Her hair is beautifully done in soft curls and waves, with loose braids along the sides that are decorated with pearls and rubies.
She looks up at me, her face so lovingly painted by Bron and Fye with cherry red lips and long, dark lashes. Tears stream down her face, and her nose is a bright red button.
“I so wanted you to see me in that dress,” she whimpers.
I stroke her cheek, smoothing my thumb delicately under her eyes to wipe away the tears. She begins to smile and she leans into my touch.
“I’m so glad to see you,” she whispers. “Even if it is against the rules.”
I kiss her softly. “We make the rules.” I grin at her, my eyes raking down her body. “Did you find something with Eira and Robin?”
She nods. “Yeah. They had some beautiful pieces.” She crosses her hands over the bodice. “I still don’t want you to see it.”
I smirk at her. “Then take it off.”
She bursts out laughing and kisses me again, pressing her red lips all over my face. “Thank you,” she breathes.
“I couldn’t bear knowing you were over here worrying,” I whisper. “I had to come see you, make you smile, kiss you.” I run my thumb over her bottom lip. “To tell you again I love you so you know for sure.”
“I know,” Ruby breathes. She leans in again to kiss me but other voices are rapidly approaching. “Oh no,” she gasps. “Hurry! Get out before they see you!”
I scurry back out of the tent, hurrying towards my own. I am caught, though, as Robin is stepping outside as I attempt to sneak back in.
“There you are!” Robin chuckles. “And, uh...” His eyes linger on my face before he breaks into a grin. “Well,” he laughs, “need I ask where you were?”
“Walking,” I say stiffly. “I walked.” I rotate my finger in the air. “Walked around.”
Robin takes his handkerchief out and wipes my cheek, then shows the red lipstick smudged on the white surface. “Should I be worried and tell your bride?” He grins at me.
I huff and touch my face, then rub my thumb over my lips to remove the red lipstick. “She knows,” I grumble.
“I knew you couldn’t stay away.” He helps me take off the rest of the lipstick before we go back into the tent.
After that, everything is a mad dash. People pass by in a blur as I make my way to the altar. I stand there, feeling a heavy weight on me, and take in deep breaths. I am more anxious and excited than I ever have been before. I have butterflies battling boulders in my stomach.
Then, all at once, everyone in the big top stands up. Looking down the aisle, I see her. She emerges from light and appears before me like an angel. The wedding dress is beautiful - antique lace and crystals that catch the light to make her glow. The neckline is wide and dips low, and the sleeves hang down in long waves of lace. The skirt moves around her like a billowing fog that fits her shape perfectly.
As she stands at the altar before me, I am breathless and unprepared. I am already crying and grinning like an idiot. I barely hear the ceremony at all, all I can do is stare at her and think to myself how lucky I truly am. I tremble horribly as I try to put the ring on her finger. For a moment, I am terrified that it will not fit, but it goes into place as it should. Ruby’s fingers tremble as well, but she is more confident than I am.
“Do you, Authaire Faire, take this woman to be your bride?”
The words cut through me and I feel relieved. “I do.”
“And do you, Ruby--?”
“I do,” she cuts in before he can finish, and I break into a massive grin.
The officiant laughs. “Well then, by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”
Ruby hurriedly rushes towards me and I grab her up, kissing her as the entire big top erupts into applause and tears. I take her hand and rush down the aisle with her. We go back to our tent while everyone makes their way to the mess hall where the reception is being held.
“I have no idea what to do!” I tell her. “I’m just so happy! I can’t… What do we do?” I bust out laughing.
Ruby catches me and kisses me. “We have a little time to ourselves. We could make use of it, or we can lie down for a moment and relax until we are called for.”
I moan softly as the kiss deepens. My knees go weak from all the excitement, and I turn to putty in her hands.
“You know,” I chuckle. “Muna gave me the talk this morning.”
Ruby arches her brow. “I’m afraid to ask.”
We lay down on the bed together, resting before we have to go back to the reception. “Oh, he made me uncomfortable for hours.”
“So sorry to hear that,” Ruby giggles. “I hope he wasn’t too specific with you. I’d hate for you to be getting any strange ideas before the wedding night.”
“Despite the awkwardness of it, he did give me some good tips.” I wink at her. “But I won’t spoil the surprise until tonight.”
We’re soon fetched and called to the reception hall, where we are paraded around to our friends and family as the happy couple we are. We perform for them, doing our first dance, feeding each other cake, and Ruby throws the bouquet, which is caught by Oriharu.
We celebrate for a long time, but all too soon we go back to our tent to change and gather our things. We have a place in the city being loaned to us. It’s a luxury suite, and when we arrive, there are rose petals everywhere, lit candles, and bottles of champagne chilling on the table.
“My, my, Puck really went all out on this for us.” Ruby admires the bottle of champagne before she realizes it is an expensive bottle of Veuve Clicquot. “How rich are your friends?”
I chuckle as I come up behind her and wrap her up in my arms. “Is that really what you want to know right now?”
“That’s a bottle of wine the price of a house!” She gasps as my lips press to her neck, and moans softly as my hands go under her shirt and touch her bare skin. “Authaire,” she moans.
I nip the tip of her ear. “I’ll pour you a month’s rent when I’m done with you.” I pick her up and carry her to the bed. I take off her shoes, then with two more hands, I go under her clothes again.
Ruby moans softly. “Authaire, your hands.”
“I have two more that can be of use,” I chuckle. I kiss her belly as I undo the buttons of her jeans. I raise her hips as I tug them down and drag my lips onto her mound.
“That tickles,” Ruby giggles.
I glance up at her, seeing her posed naked on the bed for me and only me. As her eyes meet mine, she reaches her hands out to me. I fall into them, kissing her as two hands knead her thighs.
“Which me do you want?” I whisper.
“All of you,” Ruby moans.
I smirk at her as my glamour starts to melt away. “You sure about that? Apparently my package might we weird.”
“I can handle that.” Ruby’s hands stroke down my back as I place myself between her thighs. Her breath catches in her throat for a moment as six hands roam over her soft, wonderful body.
I’m excited and barely holding myself together. I have been longing for the moment where Ruby and I become one, in every sense of the word. Ruby’s leg hitches around me and urges me closer. I slip against her, feeling her heat and wetness against me.
“Oh!” Ruby gasps.
“What?” I yelp. “Is it too weird?”
Ruby shakes her head. Her face was flushed before, but now it’s vivid, and there is a bit of drool on her lip. “No, it’s just...” she giggles uncontrollably. “You didn’t warn me!”
“Warn you?” I gulp.
Ruby reaches down, taking hold of me. I shut my eyes tight and hold my breath as she strokes her palm over my cock.
“Big,” Ruby mewls.
“Is it?” I pant.
Ruby bites her lip as she looks up at me. “Yeah! Look at yourself, you’re a big, hunky demon.”
I smile shyly. “Hunky?”
Ruby kisses me as she guides me into place. “And all mine,” she coos.
I whimper as I feel her molten core at my tip. “Ruby!”
Ruby nods, urging me forward. I slip inside her, and she cries out. Her legs clamp tightly around my waist, and I plunge deeper all at once. Ruby throws her head back, almost screaming. When I try to pull away, thinking I’ve hurt her, she clings to me and keeps me close. I push back inside and start to lose my breath. She feels so good, so warm and wet, her inner walls clinging to me as if trying to pull me deeper.
“Oh, Ruby,” I moan. “Oh, Ruby!”
“Just like that,” Ruby coaxes me. “Yes. There!” She grins as she chomps down on her bottom lip. “You feel so good!”
I’m nearly at my limit. The way she’s touching me, holding me, even the way she breathes has all my nerves alive and humming with electricity. I can’t control myself any longer. I huff and pant, driving deep inside her. A part of me has come loose, one that is hungry and animal. It takes control, urging me to sate my appetite. Ruby’s moans and cries fuel me and course through my blood.
I feel as if my whole body is struck by lightning. I roar, shaking the bed with a few final thrusts. Deep inside Ruby, I let go. I fill her to the brim, and with each thrust a little of my seed flows out.
Ruby mewls and pants, whimpering as I pull from her. I am awed by the sight between her legs, watching her plump, red lips open and spill my seed. I taste her, sucking her clit until she has to use a pillow to muffle her voice.
I lay my head on her belly, only half alive at this point.
Finally I stand up, slipping my glamour back on so I can move easily around the suite. I smile down at Ruby, who has melted into a perfect puddle on the bed.
“I’ll go pour that champagne now.” I kiss her cheek.
“Mmm,” she moans. “I can’t move.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll take...” I trip as soon as I stand up. My legs feel as though they are made of gummy worms.
“Are you alright?” Ruby gasps in alarm.
“I’m fine,” I stumble as I get up and laugh. “I’m not used to that, is all.”
Ruby smiles at me, hugging a pillow to her naked chest. “Not bad for a newbie,” she chuckles. “You hit all the right spots.”
I grin like an idiot. “I just listened, is all.” I go and uncork the champagne, pouring us each a glass. As we sit on the bed, naked, giggly, and happy, it suddenly hits me all at once that this is my wife.
“What is it?” Ruby asks me.
“I just realized we’re married,” I laugh. “I don’t know, it didn’t hit me until just now.” I cup her cheek in my palm. “You’re my wife!”
Ruby leans in closer to me. “And you’re my husband.” She kisses me and crawls into my lap. I quickly set the glasses aside as our bodies press tight together.
“Already?” I pant.
Ruby kisses my neck, and I melt for her again.
I’m not sure when morning arrives, as every floor-to-ceiling window is covered by blackout curtains. All I can say is that Ruby and I have taken advantage of being married several times already.
I sip on stale champagne as I wake up, needing something wet on my tongue. I stretch, and everything pops.
“Good morning.” Ruby’s soft hand pets down my back. “Are you ready for the honeymoon?”
All you wanted to do right now was crawl into bed and sleep for the next hundred years.
Today had been absolutely dreadful. Not only had you been yelled to at work twice, you had your lunch stolen, your umbrella lost and had to walk home in the rain, and to top it all off, you tripped and fell into a muddy puddle staining your new outfit. This day could not get any worse.
Stumbling into the house you dragged your tired feet across the wood tiled entryway, slumping off your sopping shoulder bag and coat along the way, each step causing the floors to creak in the old house. You were thoroughly drenched and utterly miserable. You slowly shuffled your way upstairs for a quick bath to warm up and attempt to wash the day off before you head to bed.
You sigh as you turn on the faucet, replaying the events of the day through your head. Both of the times you were yelled at were not your fault, but your coworker’s, who always push the blame to you. You were getting increasingly frustrated with their actions, but knew your boss wouldn’t listen.
Turning the faucet off, you strip yourself of your cold, wet clothing and slip into the welcoming warmth of your tub. Instant relief washed over your whole form as you let out a groan, your body warming and your tired muscles relaxing. You let your head rest, rolling it to the side and close your eyes.
The sudden feeling of being watched nags at the back of your mind making you quickly open your eyes and glance around.
Looking out the open door into the dark depths of your house you see it.
Two pairs of golden glowing eyes, staring right back at you.
You were so startled you lost your grip making your head sink under the water. The sensation of water in your nose makes you sit up gasping for air and push your hair out of your face, eyes immediately scanning the hall, but seeing nothing. Placing a hand over your chest you pant as you stare at the area, waiting for something to happen, but nothing ever did.
“I must be seeing things. I really need to go to bed” you say in a tired tone.
Rising out of the tub you quickly pat dry and throw on your favorite pair of pajamas. Searching the pockets of the discarded wet clothes, looking for your phone, you realize you left it downstairs in your shoulder bag.
“Of course” you groan out as you jog down the stairs.
Laying where you left it was your wet, muddy bag, making you grimace at the thought of touching it. You pinch the flap between your thumb and forefinger and carefully open it, trying not to touch any of the gook and grime. The inside of the bag was relatively dry making you sigh in relief. Quickly retrieving your phone, you are about to head upstairs when you notice you have a text message. You decide to check it.
‘We are sorry to inform you that due to recent events, your position in our company has been terminated. Your final check will be sent to your home address through the mail’
A tightening sensation forms in your chest as you read the message over and over trying to make sense of the words.
Your body trembles as a stinging sensation rushes to your eyes making you furiously rub them. How could they do this to you? After all you had done for the company, they just let you go? Before you can stop yourself your body is wracked with sobs making you lower to your knees. A sudden crashing noise from behind makes you rip out of your sorry state and turn.
A potted plant lie shattered on the ground, behind it, the same four golden eyes are there again, staring you down from the corner of the dark room, only this time, they don’t leave. You quickly shuffle backwards trying to put as much distance between you and…..whatever was there.
A whisper comes from the shadows, deep and gravely.
“Please, I mean no harm…”
Your whole body shakes making you completely forget about the message you just read as you barely manage to form an audible sentence.
“W-who are you?”
It seems as though the shadows themselves move as a figure slowly and timidly emerges from the shadows. He was otherworldly. His form towered over you causing him to crouch lowly to accommodate your ceilings. His body was pitch black, fading to a dark royal blue as it got to the end of his six limbs. The expanse of his body that was visible was splattered with light blue specks, making it seem as though he is glowing in some areas. His face was slim, two eyes and horns on each side, one pair curling back like ram horns, the other in the front were short and stuck straight up. Dark grey wavy hair lay on his head and trail mid-waist. A pair of loose torn jeans clung to slim hips, a tapered tail sticking out of a self made hole in the back. His lips pulled back into what looked like a shy smile showing what seemed to be a row of pointed teeth.
“Tororin…” He said quietly.
You swallow thickly at the sight of this creature. “What are you?”
“I am a demon cursed to this house by a…..misunderstanding from the past owners”
A demon, that’s a surprise. Monsters aren’t uncommon in the area you live, but demons are quite rare. He must have been here a long time as the last people who lived here did so over 60 years ago. You had just moved into this house not even three weeks ago and had noticed some things being moved slightly to one side or having one less of a food item then you remembered, but you just played it off as your imagination. It must have been him this whole time.
“I am sorry for startling you. You had seemed saddened when you arrived home today so I worried and wanted to check on you. I fled when you noticed me and thought to leave you be for the night till I heard you crying. I feel my chest ache at your sadness, for you do not deserve such feelings” said Tororin as his eyes darted down in shame at being caught watching you.
You opened your mouth to speak, but snap it shut. What were you supposed to say? It must have been some time of silence because you heard Tororin let out a shaky sigh and begin to turn away to retreat.
“I will leave you be, not to bother you again. I apologize for making myself known and will keep to myself from now on.” he said as he began the ascent of the stairs.
“Wait!” you said, scrambling to your feet.
This caused him to halt in wait of what you would say next.
“So you can’t leave at all?” you questioned.
“No. Not before the curse is broken may I step foot outside this home”
“What has to be done to break it?”
This grabs his attention making him turn slowly, coming back in your direction. He stopped far in front of you, crouching. “Why does that matter to you?” he said softly, avoiding your gaze.
You hesitate, glancing at your phone and remember the message you received. Shaking your head you decided that this was more pressing. “Maybe I can help you. If you let me.” you let out. You don’t know why, but you feel like this is something you need to do.
His head shot up at this. Golden eyes looking directly into yours. “You would do that?” he said as hope danced in his eyes.
With a nod of your head Tororin shot up, barely avoiding hitting the ceiling light. A wide smile split over his face showing just how many teeth he had.
“Thank you….”
“y/n”
“Thank you y/n. Come and I shall tell you all what you need to know”
Tororin headed in the direction as you followed meekly behind.
If your requests are still open, then can I get a smug buff male demon and a shy chubby female reader? Rating grapefruit. With some dubcon and an emphasis on breasts.
Shy Chubby F!Reader x Smug Buff M!Demon
Note: Hey! Thanks for your request, it was actually a lot of fun to get back into writing some good ol' smut. Not sure how active I can be on this blog right now, but if anyone is okay with waiting then send your requests please! I really do enjoy writing them when I can; I've been doing a ton of writing lately, just not this kind of stuff, so it's nice to have a reason to come back to it. Also this is really long for a request tbh, I hope that's cool.
Content: Dubcon (honestly kinda light; I can't seem to stop making things end up cute and sweet) and breast play, as requested.
"It's called 'Temple of the Body?' Really?" You asked, immediately skeptical of any gym too fancy to have the word "gym" in its name.
"Yeah, it's a good gym! It's got everything you could ever need, it just happens to be in Honeycomb," Phoebe seemed a little too defensive of her gym of choice—you could practically hear her petals bristling—but the Dryad always was eager to convince you of things. "You know how Ishtar followers tend to wax poetic about stuff like that."
"Honeycomb isn't exactly a neighborhood that's nearby, Phoebe. It's almost on the opposite side of town from me."
"You'd rather work out alone than drive an extra…" Phoebe's taps on her phone screen as she mapped the route attacked your ear. "...fifteen minutes and have me as a gym buddy?"
"No, but…" You couldn't quite explain your apprehension. Of course, going to any gym was daunting, and needing to pay for a membership didn't help.
You chewed your lip, searching for the right words to express your unease. The idea of working out in Honeycomb, a neighborhood known for its devotion to Ishtar, sent a wave of anxiety through you. That was the only part of town where you had seen a community recreational center host "naked swim days" and let people post flyers advertising weekly orgies.
"It's just... Honeycomb is a bit... woo-woo, isn't it?" You finally managed, your voice barely above a whisper.
Phoebe's laughter sparkled through the phone. "Oh, come on! It's not like everyone's walking around naked or anything."
You winced, wanting to say "they kind of are." Honeycomb's reputation for body positivity and sensuality was well-known throughout the city. The thought of your softer curves standing out amidst a sea of chiseled abs and defined muscles made your stomach churn.
"I don't know, Phoebe. I'm not exactly... Honeycomb material." Your fingers absently plucked at the hem of your shirt, suddenly hyper-aware of the way it clung to your midsection.
"What are you talking about? Everyone starts somewhere!" Phoebe's voice softened, a hint of concern creeping in. "Is this about the whole Ishtar thing?"
You sighed, sinking deeper into your couch. "Maybe? It's just... you know how people are there. All touchy-feely and confident. I'm not sure I'd fit in."
"Hey, that's not fair. Ishtar followers aren't all about perfect bodies, you know. It's about loving yourself as you are."
Your skepticism must have traveled through the phone because Phoebe quickly added, "Look, why don't you visit on the next Tuesday—Trial Tuesday, when newbies can try it out—and see how you feel? Just because people in Honeycomb look nice and act confident doesn't mean they're douchebags. They do follow the goddess of love, after all."
You let out a long sigh, your resolve crumbling under Phoebe's enthusiastic persuasion. "Alright, alright. I'll give it a try. But just one visit, okay?"
"Yes! You won't regret it, I promise." Phoebe's excitement bubbled through the phone. "Oh, and don't forget to mention my name at the front desk. They know me there."
Your stomach twisted. "Wait, you're not coming with me?"
"Ah, about that..." Phoebe's voice took on an apologetic tone. "I've got a work thing that day. But you'll be fine! The staff there are super friendly."
Great. Now you'd be venturing into unknown territory alone. "Some gym buddy you are," you grumbled.
"You've got this," Phoebe assured you. "Text me after and tell me how it goes!"
The day of your gym visit arrived all too quickly. You stood in front of your bedroom mirror, tugging at the hem of your new workout top. The fabric clung to your curves in a way that made you both self-conscious and oddly confident. Turns out, all it takes to look like a gym goer is to put on gym clothes.
Your eyes traveled over your reflection, taking in the sight of your body wrapped in still-returnable athletic wear. The leggings hugged your thighs, accentuating their shape. You turned to the side, observing how the high-waisted band looked painted on to your stomach.
There were a couple things going through your mind; anxiety gnawed at the edges of it, whispering doubts about how you'd measure up in a gym full of the Honeycomb crowd and Ishtar followers. But beneath that, a strange note of confidence too. The outfit, despite its snugness, was incredibly comfortable, and knowing you'd be dressed the same as everyone else helped a bit.
You took a deep breath, squaring your shoulders. "It's just one visit," you reminded yourself, meeting your own gaze in the mirror. "You can do this."
Grabbing your gym bag, you headed for the door. The drive to Honeycomb seemed both endless and far too short. As you pulled into the parking lot of Temple of the Body, your heart raced. The building loomed before you, its architecture fitting in with the Honeycomb aesthetic to a tee; a stone facade covered in elaborate geometric inlays, flowering vines and planters, and—of course—nude relief sculptures of Ishtar. She didn't look like you at all.
You sit in your car for a moment, hands gripping the steering wheel. Part of you wants to turn around and drive home, but Phoebe's encouragement echoes in your mind, as does the potential nagging if you bail. With a final deep breath, you step out of the car.
The automatic doors slide open, unleashing a wave of cool air with a hint of lavender. You approach the front desk, where a smiling woman greets you; she definitely fits in with the Honeycomb crowd, her dyed blue hair and tattoos complementing her body, which definitely belonged in a gym.
"Welcome to Temple of the Body! How can I help you today?"
You swallow hard, willing your voice not to shake. "Hi, I'm here for a... a trial visit? My friend Phoebe recommended this place."
The woman's smile widens. "Oh, you're a friend of Phoebe's? Wonderful! Let me get you set up with a trial pass. Remember, there's no commitment and you can always come back next Trial Tuesday if you're still not sure."
You take a tentative step into the lobby, your eyes sweeping across the space. The interior of Temple of the Body is a far cry from the utilitarian gyms you've seen in your own part of town. Warm, earthy tones dominate the decor, with splashes of vibrant greens from potted plants scattered throughout the sandstone-like interior alongside more of those damn nude Ishtar statues.
As you peer into the main workout area, your breath catches in your throat. The first thing that strikes you is the sheer diversity of the clientele. Humans mingle with metahumans of all kinds—you spot a towering Minotaur spotting for a petite Naga on the bench press, while a group of Dryads lead a yoga class in a glass-walled room with poses that would kill you.
Your eyes are immediately drawn to the brawny. A human woman with abs you could grate cheese on effortlessly pulls herself up on a set of rings. Nearby, an Orc with biceps the size of your thighs curls a dumbbell that looks heavier than you.
But as you continue to scan the room, you spot a few bodies that look more like yours. A human man with a round, doughy build jogs on a treadmill, his face flushed but determined. In the free weights section, a literally thicker Dryad, her bark-like skin adorned with moss, performs squats with perfect form.
You watch as another group finishes up a class, laughing and chatting as they towel off and head to what is presumably the locker rooms. The camaraderie is palpable, with people of all shapes and sizes offering each other high-fives and chatting like old friends.
The receptionist gently touches your arm. "Would you like a quick tour before you start your trial session?"
You nod, still a bit conflicted. Everything you've seen so far is living up to Phoebe's promises, but the anxiety in your gut is far too resilient to be defeated this quickly.
"Great!" She looks around, eyes searching the gym floor, before finding her target and pointing at what you can only describe as a mountain of a Demon as he sits on a bench, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone. "That's Zeke, one of our personal trainers. He'll tell you all about the gym and guide you through your workout today, if you'd like."
"Uh…" You stammer. Everything and everyone has been welcoming so far, but you'd be lying if you weren't a bit intimidated by Zeke. Much of his deep crimson skin is on display thanks to his scant tank top and tiny shorts, crowned by a pair of curling onyx horns.
The receptionist notices your hesitation and gives you a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Zeke may look intimidating, but he's a sweetheart. He's Phoebe’s trainer, and actually our most popular one for newcomers."
Before you can protest, she calls out, "Hey Zeke! Got a new member here who could use a tour."
The massive Demon's head snaps up at the sound of his name, and a broad grin spreads across his face as he spots you. He stands, his impressive height becoming even more apparent as he makes his way over.
"Hey there! I'm Zzikaerax, but you can just call me Zeke," he says, his voice a deep rumble that you can almost feel in your chest. "Welcome to Temple of the Body!"
You introduce yourself, your voice sounding small in comparison. Zeke's presence is overwhelming, not just because of his size, but because of the sheer energy he exudes. His crimson skin seems to radiate warmth, and his onyx horns gleam under the gym's lights.
"First time here, huh?" Zeke asks, leaning in close. You catch a whiff of something spicy and intoxicating. "Don't worry, I'll take good care of you."
The receptionist chimes in, "Zeke's a lust Demon, but don't let that worry you. He's all about helping people feel good about themselves and their bodies."
Zeke nods enthusiastically. "That's right! Nothing makes me happier than seeing someone fall in love with fitness and their own body. Sweat is just foreplay for success, as I always say."
As he speaks, Zeke places a large hand on your shoulder, guiding you towards the gym floor. His touch is warm, almost hot, and you're not sure if it's because of his demonic nature or if it's just your own nervousness causing you to fixate on the contact.
"So, what are your fitness goals?" Zeke asks, his face inches from yours as he leans down to hear your response. "Strength? Flexibility? Or maybe you just want to feel more confident?"
You stammer out a vague answer about generally just getting your heart rate up, acutely aware of how close Zeke is standing. Is this normal in Honeycomb? You know that followers of Ishtar tend to be more physically affectionate, but you can't help the way your body reacts.
As you walk through the gym, Zeke's hand remains on your shoulder, occasionally sliding down to the small of your back as he guides you around equipment. His touch is gentle but firm, and you find yourself unsure whether to lean into it or step away.
"And over here we have our cardio section," Zeke says, gesturing with his free hand, "the second best way to get your heart rate up." He winks at you, and you feel a flush creep up your neck.
As Zeke guides you onto the gym floor, your heart races, and not just from anticipation of the workout. His massive hand rests on the small of your back, warm and impossibly large against your skin.
"Let's start with some basic stretches," he rumbles, his voice low and intimate. "Gotta make sure you're nice and limber."
You nod, not trusting your voice. Zeke positions himself behind you, his presence looming large.
"Arms up, reach for the sky," he instructs. As you comply, his hands ghost along your sides, ostensibly to check your form. "Good, now bend forward, try to touch your toes."
You lean down, feeling exposed. Zeke's hands slide down your back, fingertips tracing your spine. "Breathe deep," he murmurs, so close you can feel his breath on your neck.
With each new stretch, Zeke's touch lingers longer, grows bolder. He guides your hips into position for a lunge, fingers splayed across your waist. When you rotate your torso, his palm presses flat against your stomach, steadying you.
"How's that feel?" he asks, voice husky.
"Good," you manage to squeak out, unsure if you're referring to the stretch or his touch.
Zeke moves to face you, demonstrating a shoulder roll. "Like this," he says, reaching out to manipulate your arms. His fingers trail down to your wrists, circling them gently before releasing.
You can't ignore the heat radiating from his skin, the way his eyes seem to drink you in. Is this normal for a trainer? For a lust Demon? For Honeycomb?
"Last one," Zeke announces, moving behind you once more. "We'll do a standing backbend. Don't worry, I've got you."
His massive hands span your ribcage as you lean back, trusting him to support your weight. You feel the solid wall of muscle against your back, his breath hot on your ear.
"That's it," he encourages, "just relax into it."
You hold the position, hyper-aware of every point of contact between your bodies. Zeke's thumbs rub small circles on your sides, a gesture that feels more intimate than instructional.
As he helps you straighten up, his hands linger, sliding around to your stomach. You stand there, pressed against him, breath coming quick and shallow.
"How do you feel now?" Zeke asks, his voice a low purr.
You swallow hard, mind reeling. The warmth of his touch, the spicy scent of his skin, the raw energy emanating from him – it's all too much, too intense. And yet, you can't bring yourself to step away. Probably because you're so dedicated to this workout, right?
"Um… good," you admit, though 'good' at best is a lie of omission.
"Good!" Zeke gently claps the small of your back, sending more shivers up your spine. "Stretching is important to do before any exercise, whether it's a session at the gym or something more impromptu."
Zeke steps back, giving you space to breathe, to think. His smile is warm, inviting, as he moves into an open area of the gym. "Let's start with some basic strength exercises," he says, beckoning you to follow.
You mirror his stance as he demonstrates a squat, feet planted firmly on the ground, shoulders back. His muscles shift beneath his tank top, a mesmerizing display of controlled power. You try to focus on his form, on the way his knees bend and his hips hinge, but your eyes are drawn to the expanse of crimson skin stretching over hard muscle, the way his shorts cling to his thighs, barely containing the thick outline of his cock.
"Like this," he encourages, dropping into a deep squat. You mimic him, feeling the burn in your thighs, the stretch in your glutes. His eyes are on you, watching, assessing. You flush under his gaze, a mix of exertion and something else, something hot pooling in your stomach.
"Good," he praises, standing up. "Now, lunges."
He demonstrates the movement, one leg stretched out behind him, the other bent at the knee. His shorts ride up, revealing more of his thigh, the curve of his ass. You swallow hard, tearing your eyes away to focus on your own form.
You lunge forward, wobbling slightly. Zeke's hands are there instantly, steadying you. His touch is hot, searing through the thin fabric of your leggings. "Easy," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble. "Take your time. It's not a race."
You nod, trying to ignore the heat of his hands, the way your heart is pounding in your chest. You lunge again, slower this time, more controlled. Zeke's hands follow you, guiding you, supporting you.
"That's it," he says, his voice like velvet. "You're doing great."
You can feel the sweat trickling down your spine, the flush in your cheeks. Zeke's eyes are on you, intense, focused. You can't look away, can't break the connection. There's something in his gaze, something hungry.
He steps closer, his hands still on your waist. You can feel the heat radiating off him, the spicy scent of his skin filling your nostrils. "You're strong," he says, his voice a low growl. "You just need to believe it."
You stand there, frozen, heart pounding. Zeke's hands slide around to your back, pulling you closer. You can feel the hard planes of his chest against yours, the thickness of his barely-contained cock pressed against your stomach.
"Zeke," you whisper, your voice barely audible. You're not sure if it's a protest or a plea.
He leans down, his breath hot on your ear. "Yes?"
Your hands are on his chest, his heart thudding under your palm. You can feel the power in him, the raw, untamed energy. It's frightening. Intoxicating. You're not sure what you want, what you're doing. But you're pretty sure you don't want him to stop.
"I...I don't know what I'm doing," you admit, your voice a whisper.
Zeke's lips curl into a smile, his eyes never leaving yours. "That's okay," he says, his voice a low purr. "I do."
His hands slide down to cup your ass, pulling you against him. You gasp, your eyes widening. He chuckles, a low, throaty sound that sends shivers down your spine. "Trust me," he says, his voice a soft growl.
And you do. You trust him, even though you barely know him. Even though he's a lust Demon, even though you're in the middle of a gym, even though this is all happening too fast. You trust him, because somehow, inexplicably, it feels right.
His lips brush against yours, a soft, gentle touch that sends sparks shooting through your veins. You melt into him, your hands sliding up to his shoulders, your fingers tangling in his horns. He groans, a low, hungry sound that sends a hot shiver coursing through you.
You're vaguely aware of the other people in the gym, of the clank of weights and the hum of conversation. But it all fades away, lost in the heat of Zeke's kiss, the feel of his hands on your body, the press of his cock against you.
He breaks the kiss, your breath coming in ragged gasps. His eyes are like molten lava, hot and hungry. "You're doing amazing for a newbie," he growls, his voice a low rumble.
You can't speak, can't think. You look around, and nobody seems to be paying you any notice. All you can do is feel. Feel the heat of his body, the strength of his arms, the hardness of his cock. Is this sort of thing normal here? Is rutting your cock against someone the Honeycomb way of saying hello? Do the people around you just think Zeke is your boyfriend or something?
Zeke's hands slide under your top, his fingers tracing the curves of your body. You shiver, your breath hitching in your throat. His touch is like fire, burning away all your doubts, all your fears. Still, nobody is looking at you two. Not like you would be able to care right now, anyway.
"Zeke," you gasp, definitely a plea this time.
He smiles, a slow, wicked curve of his lips. "Yes?"
You can't answer, can't find the words. But you don't need to. Zeke knows what you want, what you need. And he's more than willing to give it to you.
His hands slide up, cupping your breasts through your sports bra. You arch into his touch, a moan escaping your lips. He chuckles, his thumbs circling your nipples, plucking a gasp from your lips.
"So…" he rumbles, lowering his hands and resting them on your hips, "we could stay out here, do some more core exercises… or we could take this somewhere else."
"Somewhere else?" You manage to get out. Zeke's eyes finally lose their lock on you, and you follow his gaze to a doorway towards the back of the gym.
You follow Zeke's gaze to the doorway at the back of the gym that you saw the class exit through earlier. He leads you towards it, his hand still resting on your hip, fingers tracing small circles that send shivers up your spine. The doorway is unassuming, blending into the wall, but as you step through, your breath catches. It leads to the locker room—just one.
The room is vast, tiled in shades of blue and green, with lockers lining one wall and showers along the other. Steam fills the air, and the scent of soap and something more primal hangs heavy. In the center, there are benches, mats, and towels scattered about. And people. Humans and metahumans in various states of undress, some showering, some intertwined with others, touching and moaning with satisfied pleasure.
Your eyes widen, taking it all in. Zeke's lips curl into a smirk as he watches your reaction. "Welcome to the real Temple of the Body," he rumbles, his voice echoing off the tiles. "This is why our members keep coming back."
He guides you further inside, his hand sliding from your hip to the small of your back. You can't help but stare. A Naga, her scales shimmering under the water, is entwined with a human in one of the shower stalls. On a mat, a Minotaur, his gold septum ring glinting, kneels behind a Dryad, his hands exploring her bark-like skin as his massive cock grows from soft and drooping to hard and leaking.
"Zeke, what..." you start, but his finger presses against your lips, silencing you.
"Shh, no judgments here," he says, his eyes never leaving yours. "This is a reward for working hard, for improving yourself every day."
He steers you to an empty bench, his hands on your shoulders, gentle but firm, pushing you down. You sit, the tile cold against your thighs. Zeke stands over you, his crimson skin a stark contrast to the pale blue of the locker room.
"You're curious," he says, his voice low, commanding. "I can see it in your eyes. You're shy but you want to be just like them."
You swallow hard, unsure how to defend yourself against an accusation so true. Zeke takes your silence as consent, dropping to his knees in front of you. His hands grip your thighs, spreading them apart, making room for him. Looking between his horns, the Minotaur from earlier has the Dryad speared on his cock, bouncing her on his lap as she cries out.
"Let's start slow," he growls, his eyes locked onto yours. His hands slide up your thighs, thumbs hooking into the waistband of your leggings. He tugs, and you lift your hips, allowing him to pull them off. The tepid, humid air hits your skin, sending goosebumps racing up your legs.
Zeke's hands roam, cupping your calves, kneading your thighs. His touch is firm, possessive. He leans in, his breath hot on your inner thigh. "You smell delicious," he murmurs, his voice vibrating against your skin.
Your heart hammers in your chest as his hands move higher, gripping your hips, thumbs digging into your flesh. His eyes are fixed on your breasts, heaving with each ragged breath. He licks his lips, a hungry, primal gesture that sends a surge of heat through you.
"Look at you," he growls. "So soft." His hands move up, cupping your breasts through your sports bra. You gasp as his thumbs find your nipples, circling, teasing. The fabric is thin—too thin to even tell it’s there.
You squirm under his gaze, his touch. It's too much, too intense. But Zeke holds you firm, his hands demanding, his eyes commanding. "Don't move," he orders, his voice harsh. "Let me explore you."
His hands move to your back, unhooking your bra with a swift, practiced motion. He pulls it off, baring you to his gaze. You shiver, resisting the urge to cover yourself. Zeke's eyes drink you in, his pupils dilating.
"Fuck, you're gorgeous," he rasps, his hands cupping your breasts, lifting them, squeezing them. His touch is rough, just shy of painful, but it sends jolts of pleasure coursing through you.
He leans in, his tongue flicking out, teasing your nipple. You gasp, arching into the warmth of his licks. He chuckles, a low, throaty sound. "Sensitive, aren't you?" he murmurs, before taking your nipple into his mouth, sucking hard.
You cry out, your hands finding their way to his horns, gripping them tightly. Zeke groans, the sound vibrating against your skin. He pulls back, his eyes meeting yours. "You like that?" he asks, his voice a low rumble. "You like it rough?"
You nod, breathless, unable to speak. Zeke's lips curl into a wicked smile. "Good," he says, his hands gripping your breasts, squeezing and kneading them. "Because I like it rough too."
His mouth finds your other nipple, biting, sucking, as his hands continue to explore your body. You're lost in a sea of sensation, drowning in the feel of his hands, his mouth, his body pressed against yours.
Zeke's hands slide down, gripping your hips, digging into your flesh. He pulls you to the edge of the bench, pressing his body between your thighs. You can feel the hard length of him, the heat of him, even through his shorts.
He grinds against you, his mouth finding yours, kissing you deeply. His tongue invades your mouth, claiming you. You moan into his kiss, your hands still gripping his horns, holding on for dear life.
Zeke pulls back, his breath ragged, his eyes wild. "Fuck, you're driving me crazy," he growls. "I want to taste you."
His hands move to your thighs, spreading them wider. You're exposed, vulnerable, but you trust him. You want this. You need this.
Zeke leans in, his breath hot on your core. You tremble, anticipating his touch. But he hesitates, his eyes meeting yours. "Is this okay?" he asks, his voice surprisingly gentle for a moment.
You nod, breathless. "Yes," you manage to gasp out. "Please."
The gentleness disappears. Zeke's hands grip your thighs, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. His breath is hot on your skin, sending shivers up your spine. You can feel his hunger, his desire, in every touch, every movement. His long, forked tongue flicks out, rough against your clit, and your legs shake in response. A gasp escapes your lips, your hands grasping at the bench, searching for something to ground you.
Zeke's tongue works magic on your flesh, each stroke sending jolts of pleasure coursing through you. You can't help but squirm under his touch, your hips bucking against his mouth. He chuckles, a low, throaty sound that vibrates against your skin. "Eager, aren't you?" he murmurs, his eyes gleaming with amusement and desire.
You flush, a mix of embarrassment and arousal heating your cheeks. Zeke's smirk widens, his tongue circling your clit with a teasing slowness. "Don't fight it," he growls, his hands sliding up to grip your hips, holding you firmly in place. "Let go. Submit to it."
Your breath hitches in your throat, your body tensing as his tongue flicks against you, relentless and demanding. The pressure builds, coiling and ready to snap. You can feel the eyes of the others on you, watching, waiting. It's overwhelming, intoxicating, pushing you closer to the edge.
Zeke senses your hesitation, your resistance. He pulls back, his eyes meeting yours, intense and commanding. "Look at them," he orders, his voice harsh. "They're all watching you, wanting you. They can see how much you need this, how much you want it."
You do as he says, your gaze flicking around the room. A Naga's eyes are locked onto you, her hand moving faster and faster over her slit, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The Minotaur has turned to watch you, his cock hard and dripping as it presses against the Dryad's ass. She looks at you too, her eyes eager as she takes a break from the Minotaur's pounding.
"See?" Zeke murmurs, his breath hot on your skin. "We're all the same, really. Even your Dryad friend loves bouncing on my cock after a run on the treadmill."
His words break down the last of your resistance. You let go, surrendering to the sensation, to the desire. Your body tenses, your muscles clenching tightly, and then you're falling, tumbling over the edge into a sea of pleasure.
Zeke's tongue never stops, never relents, drawing out your orgasm, wringing every last drop of pleasure from your body. You cry out, your voice echoing off the tiled walls, joining the rest of the searing hot orgasms around you. Your body shakes, your legs trembling, your hands gripping the bench so tightly your knuckles turn white.
As the waves of pleasure subside, you collapse back onto the bench, your body limp and sated. Zeke lifts his head, his lips glistening with your juices, a smug smile on his face. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes never leaving yours.
"Good girl," he praises, his voice a low purr. "You did so well."
You can't speak, can't form words. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, your heart pounding in your chest. Zeke stands, his body towering over you, his cock hard and straining against his shorts. He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear.
"But we're not done yet," he rumbles, his voice dark. "Not until I've had my fun with these."
Zeke's hands claim your breasts again, his fingers splayed possessively over their softness. He seems entranced, his gaze locked onto the generous curves, his thumbs tracing the delicate line of your collarbone before dipping down to circle your nipples. You can't ignore the raw hunger in his eyes, the unapologetic want that has him captivated.
"Fuck, I could get lost in these things,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that resonates through you. His hands are rough, kneading and squeezing, as if he can't get enough of the feel of you. You gasp as his fingers pinch your nipples, sending a jolt of pleasure-pain coursing through you.
He releases you, only to hook his thumbs into the waistband of his tiny shorts. With a swift, confident motion, he pulls them down, revealing his cock. It springs free, thick and hard, the tip glistening with precum. You stare, your heart pounding in your chest. It's intimidating, the size of it, the thickness, the weight. Not to mention the heavy balls hanging beneath, full with his lust.
Zeke chuckles, a sound like distant thunder, as he sees your expression. "Don't worry," he says, his voice a soothing growl. "I'm don't feel like pussy right now." He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. "I want to fuck these lovely, heavy breasts first. I want to slide my cock between them until I paint your face."
His words send a shiver down your spine, a mix of relief and anticipation. You look up at him, your eyes wide, your lips slightly parted. Zeke smiles, a slow, wicked curve of his lips. He straddles the bench, his powerful thighs framing your body, his cock jutting out proudly.
"Come here," he orders, his voice gentle yet commanding. He guides your hands to your breasts, encouraging you to cup them, to lift them to meet him. You do as he says, your fingers sinking into the soft flesh, your heart racing. Zeke groans, his eyes darkening as he watches you. "Fuck, that's hot," he murmurs. "Always wanted to do this."
He shifts closer, his cock resting heavy and hot on your breasts. You look down at it, a bead of precum dripping onto your skin, marking you. Zeke's hands cover yours, squeezing, molding your breasts around his cock. He starts to move, a slow, steady thrust that sends his cock sliding through the valley of your breasts.
The sensation is strangely gratifying. The heat of him, the hardness, the wetness of his precum slicking the way. You look up at Zeke, his face a mask of concentration and pleasure, his horns casting dramatic shadows on the wall behind him. His breath comes in ragged gasps, his body tensing with each thrust.
"Fuck, you feel amazing," he growls, his eyes locked onto yours. "Your skin, your softness... it's driving me crazy."
You can't look away, can't break the connection. You're entranced, caught up in the raw, primal rhythm of his body. Your hands surrender to his commands, squeezing your breasts tighter around him, creating more friction, more pleasure.
Zeke's thrusts become faster, more urgent. His breath hitches, his body tenses. He's close, you can feel it. You can see it in the wildness of his eyes, the strain of his muscles. His cock swells, the tip turning a deep, angry red.
"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he grunts, his voice barely more than a growl. His hands move to your face, cupping your cheeks, his thumbs tracing your lips. "I want to paint your face with my cum. Get ready!"
Your heart pounds in your chest, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. You're nervous, excited, aroused—too many things all at once. But you trust him. You want this. You want to feel him, to feel the heat of his seed on your skin.
Zeke's body goes rigid, a roar ripping through his throat. His cock pulses, hot streams of cum shooting out, painting your breasts, your chest, your face. It's dirty, it's raw, it's intimate. You gasp, your body trembling as you feel the heat of him, the possessiveness of his mark.
His breath slows, his body relaxing. He looks down at you, a satisfied smirk on his face. "Fuck, you look good like this," he murmurs, his thumb smearing a drop of cum across your cheek.
You can't speak, can't form words. Your body is still trembling, your mind still reeling. Zeke leans down, licking some of himself off you before his lips brush against yours in a soft, gentle kiss.
He pulls back, his eyes searching yours. "You okay?" he asks, his voice soft, the gentleness from earlier returning.
You nod, a small smile playing on your lips. "Yes," you manage to whisper. "I'm okay."
Zeke smiles back, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek. "Good," he says, his voice a low rumble. "Let's get you cleaned up, then."
Zeke stands, offering you his hand. You take it, your legs still shaky, and he leads you towards the showers. The room is filled with steam, the sound of water hitting tile echoing off the walls. You pass by a Succubus, her midnight blue skin glistening as she moves under the spray, her hands braced against the wall as a Satyr fucks her from behind. She hisses in pleasure, her spade-tipped tail coiling around his leg, pulling him deeper.
You look away, a blush heating your cheeks. Zeke chuckles, squeezing your hand. "Don't be shy, babe. Everyone's just enjoying themselves here."
He leads you to an empty showerhead, turning the knob until water cascades down. He tests the temperature, adjusting it until he's satisfied. Then he turns to you, his hands on your shoulders, guiding you under the spray.
The water is hot, soothing your muscles, washing away the sweat and cum from your skin. You close your eyes, tilting your head back, letting the water run over your face. Zeke's hands are gentle as he lathers soap onto a towel, washing you with careful, deliberate movements.
"You did good out there," he says, his voice a low rumble. "Pushed yourself. That's what this place is about. Pushing limits, finding boundaries."
You open your eyes, looking up at him. His horns are dark against the bright tile, his eyes intent on his task. He's being gentle, caring, but there's still that self-assured smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. It's like this was his plan from the beginning; while you were losing control, feverish and horny, this was just another day at work for him.
"It's weird," you admit, your voice soft. "Being here, doing... this. It's not what I expected."
Zeke laughs, a deep, throaty sound. "That's the point, babe. Expect the unexpected. That's where growth happens."
He runs the washrag over your breasts, your stomach, between your legs. His touch is clinical, but there's an intimacy to it that sends a warm flush through you. He's taking care of you, in his own way.
Next to you, the Succubus cries out, her body writhing as she comes. The Satyr grunts, his hands gripping her hips as he finds his own release. You watch, your breath hitching, as they slow, their bodies still joined.
Zeke follows your gaze, a small smile on his face. "See? Everyone's just here to feel good. Nothing to be embarrassed about."
He turns you around, washing your back, your ass. His hands are firm, confident. You can feel his cock, hard again, pressing against your hip. But he makes no move to take things further, content to just wash you, touch you.
"You're tense," he says, his thumbs digging into the muscles of your shoulders. "Relax. Cooling down is just as important as warming up."
You take a deep breath, trying to let the tension go. Zeke's hands move to your neck, your scalp, massaging gently. It feels good, too good. You can feel yourself melting under his touch, your body leaning into his.
"That's it," he murmurs, his voice approving. "Just let go."
He turns you back around, rinsing the soap from your body. His eyes meet yours, his expression soft. "You're strong, you know that? Stronger than you think."
You shake your head, a small smile on your face. "I'm not strong. I'm... I'm just me."
Zeke's hands cup your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks. "You can be both."
He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. It's gentle, chaste, a surprising contrast to his earlier roughness. You kiss him back, your hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart.
When he pulls back, his eyes are soft, warm. "Feel better?" he asks.
You nod, a sense of contentment washing over you. "Yes. Thank you."
He grins, his smugness returning. "Told you I'd take good care of you."
He turns off the water, grabbing a towel from a nearby shelf. He wraps it around you, his hands rubbing your arms, warming you. You step out of the shower, your eyes sweeping over the room.
The Minotaur and the Dryad are gone, their shower empty. The Naga and the Satyr are cleaning up, their bodies slick with soap, their movements languid, sated. You watch them, a sense of peace settling over you.
–––
You grip the steering wheel tightly, knuckles still flushed from the shower's heat and Zeke's touch. The city lights blur past as you drive home, the rumble of the engine echoing your pulsing heart. With a trembling hand, you dial Phoebe.
"Phoebe," you say, voice tight, "you could've warned me about the gym. And Zeke. And the locker room… and everything else!"
A soft laugh echoes through the line. "Oh, honey, I'm sorry. I thought you'd find it exciting. A little adventure."
"Adventure?" You scoff, but your voice lacks real anger. "Phoebe, it was an orgy. And Zeke... he was..." You trail off, remembering his hands, his tongue, his commands.
"He was what?" Phoebe asks, her voice laced with amusement.
You sigh, admitting, "He was intense. And I... I bought a membership."
Phoebe laughs again, a sound like leaves rustling. "I knew you'd like it. Zeke has that effect on people."
"You could've told me," you grumble, but there's no heat in your words. You find yourself curious, eager even. "You know, told me anything at all."
Phoebe hesitates, then begins, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Told you what? That he loves fucking me after a run? That he says he loves how my body moves, how my vines pulse with magic when I come."
You swallow hard, your body already heating at the image. "Okay, first, TMI. Second… your vines… do they really do that?"
"Mm-hmm," Phoebe hums. "It's like every nerve ending is on fire. He likes to run his tongue along them, make me shake and shiver."
You shift in your seat, your body aching at the mental image. "Goodness." A small gasp escapes your lips.
"You okay?" Phoebe asks, concern in her voice.
"Fine," you breathe. "Just... remembering."
Phoebe laughs softly. "Good memories, I hope. Did he stick it in you on your first day?"
"No, and I'm glad he didn't, honestly," you chuckle, a nervous reaction to the heat rushing to your cheeks. "Um, Phoebe, I should go. I'm almost home."
"Alright, girl," she says, her voice warm. "But don't think you're getting off that easy. We're having coffee tomorrow, and you're telling me everything."
You laugh, a mix of embarrassment and excitement bubbling up. "Fine, fine. But you're buying."
"Deal," Phoebe agrees. "Get some rest, you'll need it for your next session."
Pulling into your parking spot, you kill the engine and sit for a moment. Your body aches in places you didn't know could ache, but there's a satisfaction underneath it all. A sense of accomplishment, of pushing your boundaries.
You make your way inside, dropping your gym bag by the door. In your bedroom, you catch sight of yourself in the mirror. You look... different. Flushed, alive, and a little bit of something else in your posture. You smile at your reflection, remembering Zeke's words. "You can be both."
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Ligria Aria XX
A/N: I realize that this kind of makes it two snuggly chapters in a row and it might be a bit boring to some poeple but I've been so down in the dumps lately that I just needed to make myself happy somehow.
I love demon man, I would like to hold... 🥺😟
This is part 2 of 2. I included a bonus chapter because I have taken so long to upload this! There may be another extra that will be NSFW.
Plus size reader x Shadowy demon monster…. thing….
You pick up a box of old books at a yard sale. While sorting through them later that night you somehow manage to transport yourself directly into the den of the Entity. Sass and snark aplenty as you try to figure out how the hell to get back home.
WC:2,233
Part 1
You consider it a moment longer. It was just a kiss. Not like it was your first. And so long as you get back to your plane of existence, it wouldn’t be your last. Right? Just a kiss. You could do this! Hell, you loved kissing. And you were damn good at it.
“Okay then. A kiss for you and a trip back home for me!”
“Good,” he hissed.
You heard the scraping sound again, louder this time. Then not so gentle tick-tick-ticks of claws on the tile beneath you. You stood, holding you book in one hand, and waited for him to approach you.
You stared in awe as the Entity stood to his full height, slack jawed as the deep, endless shadow moved and slowly stepped closer. He- It?- was… tall.
“Holy shit.” He- the Entity definitely looked male, atleast- was at least 7’ tall with broad spiked shoulders. What little light there was highlighted the strange raised patterns climbing over his shoulders and down his arms and his chest. More and more details of his face and body became visible, the closer he stepped to you. His face was more bone, it almost looked like a mask- part human, part canine, part cervaide- all covered in the same intricate carvings and patterns, dark as anything you could ever imagine. Two spiraling horns curved up and back from his forehead with two more much smaller ones set just between them. His chest was wide and his stomach thick, both built with muscle from use.
The moving smoke seemed to pool and swirl around his clawed feet- you could tell they were strangely shaped almost like he was standing on his tiptoes- err, tip claws? The smoke climbed up his thick thighs obscuring the details. He reached a clawed hand out to you, you marveled at the tiny symbols raised from his skin along his fingers and wrists, thickening as they travel up his arm back to his shoulder.
His face though- or skull, you guess. That's what stuck out to you. The Entity had, not two, but four glowing red eyes. The first two were larger and rounder than the other smaller two sat slightly higher and farther. His teeth were sharp and long, and… completely exposed.
Exposed as in… he had no lips.
No lips.
No. Fucking. Lips.
“Asshole,” you level.
The Entity howled out, his head- skull- tossed back, the ground shaking with his laugh.
“Having second thought, Tiny?” he grinned.
“Mmm. I’m kind of surprised I didn’t see this coming, to be honest.” You sigh, “Alright, you’ll get your kiss, if that's what you want, you giant dark ass. But, since you have no lips, you’ll just have to accept a kiss on the bone- err, skull! On the skull!”
“Very well,” he grumbled, leaning down, “A kiss on the bone,” his snap made you jump a bit, “for me. And a helping hand home for you.”
He extended his hand to her, claws gently extended and palm up. For a monster- demon? whatever- he was surprisingly gentle. Or, at least, a damn good actor. You take stock of him again, tracing the intricate swirls with your eyes filling in where the light doesn't reach as you slow your breathing and calm your heart.
It was just a kiss. A little peck. Nothing more.
Right?
You reach up and take his hand. His claws wrap around your hand and he pulls you closer to him. You almost laugh at how comically small and soft your hand looks in his jagged paw.
The smoke moved to make room for her. The Entity bent down but you still had to reach up to meet him.
Your breath hitched.
Your hand clutched his palm.
Your eyes flitted between all four of his.
You blew out your breath and closed gap between you. Your lips pressed tightly against the smooth curved edges of his sharp teeth. They were surprisingly cool and it sent a shiver through you that stuck to the base of your spine.
It was brief but… strangely… nice?
Huh. So, apparently you had a thing for skulls.
Or fangs.
Skulls with fangs?
Skulls with fangs.
You pull back, considering kissing him again but decide against it. After all, he is a demon, you think. And this is probably a trap of some sort.
Smart decisions. Gotta make smart decisions.
Not strangely sexy ones.
You took a step back- you probably should have taken a larger step back, maybe even a few steps back but take the small victory of being able to back away at all just the same.
The book opens to the same page when you present it to him.
“Well?” You look at him expectantly. “Your turn.”
His laugh shakes the hall and vibrates your body. You steel yourself for the proverbial shoe to drop.
This is it. This is where this massive, bone-headed, black clawed, beautiful black marble carved, funny, kind of charming….
Demon!
This is where this DEMON. Tells you he's tricked you. That he's not going to send you back. That you’re going to be torn apart or given as a toy to his underlings or condemned to hell or whatever horrible future awaits you.
You tried to keep yourself from shaking as the Entity slowly reached out slid the back of one black claw against your cheek.
“So impatient. I’m beginning to think you really don’t like it here!” he teased. “Now. Was that so hard, Tiny?”
“You’re face sure as shit was. Seriously. What are you even made of?”
His laughter rolled through you. You hated how stuck to your spine and hips now.
The Entity thoughtfully stroked the bloodied page with the same claw that was on your cheek. “As fun as you are, Tiny, I suppose a deal is a deal though. And you certainly did hold up your end,” he grinned, leaning closer and invading your personal space.
“Hold up a deal but ignore questions. Well, I guess we can’t expect perfection, can we?”
All four eyes roved over your form, crawling back up to your face, “I supposed not.” The smoke continued to roll around you as he rolled his shoulders. He held his hand up, showing you his palm. His claws dug into his palm as he curled them into his hand slowly.
You were mesmerized. You could see the blood seep up and prick between his skin and whatever his claws were made of. It was the strangest thing. The blood that dribbled up to the surface, the blood that ran down his hand and wrist in little rivers tracing his markings, the blood that he smeared onto your book, the blood that sent you back to your living room in a blink- was blue.
Bright and vibrant blue. Like the sky the day your grandparents got in that wreck. Like the ocean the last time you visited it with your best friend. Like your favorite lapis lazuli oil paint.
And it was all you had left of the Entity. All there was to tell you that it wasn’t a dream. It was real.
He was real.
You sighed. And slumped to the floor. That’s where you stayed for the rest of the night. The old woven rug dug into your thighs and your feet had long gotten over the static feeling of no circulation by the time you finally decided that, yes, you had actually traveled to some kind of hell dimension. And yes, you had met some kind of demon. And yes, you had made a deal with said demon which probably meant, assuming something equivalent to heaven was real, you were probably going to said hell when you finally kicked the bucket. And yes, you kissed said demon. And yes, you liked kissing said demon.
By now, you had the whole damn page memorized.
Your eyes felt like they were going to start bleeding any moment. You had to stop. You willed yourself to close that damned book but your hands wouldn't cooperate. You tried again. And again. And again. Eventually, you were able to bargain with yourself to flip the page. That was enough. You broke whatever trace you were in.
With a deep breath, you closed the old book, dragging your hand across the cover.
You had struggled in the weeks after your interdimentional escapade. At first, the nightmares kept you from sleeping. You dreamt that it was something more fiendish and horrific that greeted you. That he wanted something more fatal from you. That he refused to help you at all.
That one, you think, scared you most of all. The idea that he refused to return you, that he kept you, that, sometimes, you wanted to be kept.
It was a dark thought of a dark experience that you refused to share. Hell you refused to even say it out loud.
Eventually, you calmed your subconscious, reasoned that the “what ifs” were irrelevant.
You did go. He was there. You did just kiss him. He did help you return, as promised. Nothing else mattered.
Luckily, this let you sleep. unfortunately, now you replayed the experience in your dreams. You were reluctant to admit that you enjoyed the banter, and The Entity's appearance. And the kiss.
But, eventually, you had to. Nearly 6 months out and you were still losing your fucking mind. It made sense to you at first- the man- demon - haunted your nights, of course you would see him hiding in every corner and shadow!
Now, though? Shouldn't you be over by now?
At first the constant second guessing and looking over the shoulder was exhausting. Then, you turned it into a game with yourself. In the deepest shadows of your mind, it was kind of comforting to think that, no matter how lonely you were, you weren't alone.
Slowly, it… developed… into something more. Something primal. Like the kiss.
He was the hunter. And you were his prey. This game was dangerous and primordial. It infected you like a virus; leaving you heaving and sweating, burning up from the inside out.
Like him.
But today. Today was different.
It wasn't the virus causing hallucinations. You actually saw him.
The Entity looked much more… human. But just as dangerous.
He was across the street. You looked up not even sure why, but you could feel him. Hear the whispering smoke that follows in his wake.
He was only 6’2”, a lighter shade of tan, stubble along his strong jaw, intricate tribal tattoos peeking from his black long sleeve button up, wild dark hair down to his shoulders. Honestly, he looked so human. Except…
He felt like your Entity. You saw dark human eyes staring at you but… You knew they were really that glaring red. His smile seemed plain but- you could sense the predatory bone-grin.
You were finally able to blink, to breath, when a bus passed between you. And just like that, your Entity was gone.
You couldn't remember what else you even had to do after that. You just- you felt so empty.
Running on autopilot, you went home. You made a warm cup of tea and curled up in your bed. Sleep eluded you again. Your eyes flitted between that damn book on your dresser and the door, as if he would really come through one or the other.
I really shouldn't have left that there. I need to stop torturing myself.
Your cycle continues through the night until you blinked yourself to sleep in the early hours of the morning. It seemed like you had just close your eyes when the air filled with a strong smoky smell- something not quite campfire-esque- woke you up.
It was simultaneously relaxing and alarming. You popped up, throwing the covers back and sprinted through the apartment trying to find the source of the smoke.
Nothing in your bedroom, or the master bath. Nothing in the spare room, hallway, dining area or living room. You even ran to the porch, remembering that time that your brothers porch caught on fire from a discarded cigarette. But nothing. The last room you ran to was the kitchen but there was no smoke their either. Just the smell.
And breakfast.
And a small vase with your favorite flowers.
What. The. Fuck.
You sat down at the table, this was so weird. You hadn’t slept cooked, had you? No. you didn’t even have half of what was on the plate. But the food did smell good…. And you hated to waste food… So, you ate the mysterious, probably demon provided, food. And it was amazing, which shouldn’t have been as shocking as it was but honestly, you had half expected it to taste as smoky as your house smelled.
You took your time since it was your day off, enjoying the breakfast that was provided and getting a few small things done around the house. You had wanted to do more but after the lack of sleep and the crazy wake-up call….
That evening found you curled up on your couch in your comfiest clothes, staring at- rather than reading- a book. You sighed and closed the book after re-scanning the same paragraph for the 13th time at least. A loud knock jolted you from your thoughts.
You stood up checking out the window, then slowly opening the door, brow furrowed.
It was him. The man. At least he looked like a man. But… You could see his red eyes underneath. “You…” you breathed.
The door swung open as your hand fell away. The bright blue button up contrasted his tan skin and the intricate tattoos rolled over the skin stretched across the muscled forearms shown off by his rolled up sleeves. His grin was the same as ever though. The same one that made your breath catch the first time you saw it. He rumbled when he saw your smile, saw how your relaxed, happy to see him again.
