#i just have to do straps on the vest and hem the sleeve and hem | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

girlboss-molina · 3 years

Text

Be Who You Are (No Compromise)

A Julie and the Phantoms Modern Royalty AU

Chapter 1: Introductions

AO3 Link

Words: 5543

-----

Alex POV

...

Of course.

Of fucking course.

He’d known it was coming, yeah, but that didn’t change the fact that, despite his friendship with Princess Julie, Alex had no desire to marry her. And now, after begging not to be married off, he was still stuck in this deal.

It had nothing to do with Julie herself, of course; Julie was a kind, loving, musical girl around his age. The issue was that he was gay. Marrying a girl was not something he was interested in.

Julie knew Alex was gay; he’d come out to her after he was sure she would accept him, which he knew she would after she mentioned her best friend being a lesbian, and her being bisexual herself. Needless to say, neither of them had been thrilled by the announcement a couple years back that they would be getting married, for more reasons than the fact that nobody wants to be in an arranged marriage.

And now, in three months time, he would be at the alter with a girl he wasn’t in love with.

Alex knew it wouldn’t be that bad; in fact, he and Julie were quite close friends. Their kingdoms, Tambor and Dahlia respectively, were close allies. But for some godforsaken reason, their leaders had felt the need to strengthen their allyship by setting up their heirs in an arranged marriage. Had Alex been the oldest, this wouldn’t have been the case. However, it wouldn’t be him, but his older sister, Ava, taking the throne of Tambor.

He, along with his guards, would be travelling to Dahlia this evening. He hated that it was so soon. Not that he wasn’t excited to see Julie, he was, but it was the reason that put a knot in his stomach.

Alex allowed himself one more panic attack before getting ready. As a treat.

The warm sun streaming into his room felt out of place with the dread settling in his stomach, and his breath choked, his heart racing, salty tears streaming down his face. He clenched his hands into fists and back out, trying to calm himself despite the emotional release. His nails dug into his palm, not hard enough to cut, but enough to leave little indents that he then ran his fingertips across.

Trying to pull himself together, he stood - albeit shakily - and walked across the soft, carpeted floor to his full-length mirror, pleasantly surprised as he noted that he wasn’t as big of a mess as he’d expected, given his previous panic.

A knock on his door alerted him that his head butler was there to help him get ready for the jet ride.

“Your highness, are you alright?”

Alex didn’t answer, grateful for Luke’s steady voice outside his door.

“He’s a little panicky at the moment. Maybe give him a few minutes to settle?” he suggested, and Alex hoped Luke was receiving the strong thank you vibes he was trying to transmit telepathically.

Any time Alex had a panic attack, he was semi-verbal. He could speak if he really, really tried, but it generally took a great deal of effort. He and Luke had a system, though; if Alex needed support during a panic attack, he would fake-sneeze three times, and Luke would come in from his station outside Alex’s door.

Alex allowed himself another minute to calm his breathing and wipe the tears from his face, practicing the grounding exercise Julie had taught him.

Inhale- 1, 2, 3, 4

Hold- 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Exhale- 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

It helped a lot, and soon he was able to straighten his hair and begin changing into the suit his tailors had made just for this occasion.

Another knock echoed from his door, and Alex took one final deep breath to compose himself.

“Come in,” he said, proud of how steady his voice was.

The butler entered; a kind man named Erik, who Alex had gotten to know over the past month or so. His olive skin shone in the afternoon light streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Alex dressed himself, for the most part; having butlers help him dress was never something he particularly enjoyed. He allowed Erik to smooth his white dress shirt, though; no matter how many times Alex had practiced tucking in his shirts, they always ended up wrinkled.

He slid the navy suit vest over the shirt once it was nice and smooth, fastening the thick buttons over his stomach. Minimalistic gold embroidery on the vest sparkled in the light, and Alex couldn’t help but smile at the bit of flair. He’d been half-hoping that his matching navy pants would have a bit of sparkle as well, but to no avail. Probably for the best, he decided. Just a little touch was enough.

He fixed the cuff of his sleeve, taking a breath as Erik reached up with a comb to fix his hair. It was simple but refined, how it always was.

“Erik, you’ve outdone yourself with this one, bro!” Alex said excitedly. He might not be very pleased about being in an arranged marriage, but he could appreciate a good suit. “I love the details.”

“I’m glad you like it!” Erik beamed with the praise. “May I?” he asked, reaching for Alex’s shoulders. Alex nodded, and Erik smoothed the vest’s warm fabric, readjusting the hem until it was aligned perfectly.

He might not have been the type of guy to always wear suits, unless necessary, but Alex had to admit it. He looked good. The slim fit outlined his muscles, and the deep blue of the vest and pants brought out the bluish tints in his blue-green-grey eyes. (nobody could seem to decide what color they actually were). The small touches of golden embroidery shone and somehow managed to accentuate the sun-born highlights in his hair.

“You look wonderful, your highness.”

“Thanks, Erik. And you can call me Alex, we’re chill.” Alex had been insisting to Erik that he could be casual around him for months, but Erik still generally referred to him as “your highness.”

“Alex,” he corrected with a broad smile. “Well, Alex, you have a photoshoot for the press in ten minutes, so if there’s anything else I can do to get you ready, don’t hesitate to ask. Though I must say, you look awesome.” Alex let out a small laugh.

“Thanks, dude. Oh, wait, before you go, could you tell me something?”

“Of course,” Erik replied. Alex put on his Serious Face.

“Do these pants make my butt look big?” Erik bust out laughing, and Alex couldn’t help but do the same.

...

Three hours later, Alex was finally done with an exhaustive photoshoot. He hated having his picture taken; add that to the list of anxieties. He had to make sure he looked perfect, or everything could go wrong; that was what his parents had drilled into him from the moment he had his first real photoshoot.

Of course, he still had to endure an interview with the Tambor Times Magazine, which he was dreading. Speaking to an overeager journalist with no respect for privacy was never something he looked forward to.

“What are your thoughts on the marriage that has been arranged between you and Her Royal Highness, Princess Julie of Dahlia?” Alex cleared his throat.

“It’s definitely a unique situation,” he started. “I mean, not every nineteen-year-old is part of an arranged marriage.” He did his best to keep his voice light, and it must’ve worked, because the journalist gave a laugh and moved on.

“If I may, what is your current relationship with her?”

“The princess and I share a close bond,” was the only answer he gave. “If you’ll excuse me, I must be going,” he added. “I have a flight to catch.” He grinned - He didn’t have to catch any flight. He would be on the royal family private jet. But the journalist smiled and shook his hand, instructing him to have a wonderful evening, and he did the same.

The bit about catching a flight wasn’t entirely false, though; soon, he had wished his parents a good evening and boarded the jet with his suitcases, hoping to leave his anxiety in Tambor.

-----

Julie POV

...

So.

Here’s the thing.

Julie liked Alex, she really did. He was one of her closest friends (princesses don’t get out much). But he was gay, And Julie was decidedly Not A Guy. Plus, they both knew their connection was strongest platonically, anyway.

Of course, none of that matters in diplomacy.

Julie had tried many, many times to get out of the arranged marriage. But she’d just turned eighteen, and Alex nineteen, and apparently their kingdoms had no such qualms about marrying off teenagers.

At least her dad, King Ray, had tried to get her out of it. But even as king, there was only so much he could do; everybody except for him thought it was a grand idea, because Of Course They Did. And once the public had heard the news, when she was sixteen, Julie couldn’t look out her window without seeing photographers outside the palace gates for a week.

She supposed there was nothing she could do about it now, though, no matter how much she wanted to, for her sake and Alex’s.

At least he was someone she got along with well. She knew they would never be in love, for multiple reasons, but she wouldn’t be unhappy. Alex might, though. They’d stayed up late on many a night, him rambling about cute guys he’d seen amongst the palace staff or on his occasional trip to the city, her chatting about songs she’d been writing and the one guy she’d had a crush on, Nick.

Nick was the son of a nobleman her dad was very close with, and they were good friends, but she’d never acted on her little crush. Her feelings for Nick hadn’t really gone anywhere, it was just a lingering crush she’d had for a few years, but one that had faded with time.

Julie sighed, smoothing out her dress. It was simple but elegant, with a little bit of Julie flair. The silky violet fabric was cut in a slim fit to her waist, before gently flaring outwards towards her ankles. Off-the-shoulder straps revealed the dark skin of her shoulders, and the pearly embroidery of dahlia flowers around her waist shone in the light, tapering off as she twirled, though as she practiced her camera smile, it didn’t reach her eyes.

Alex was her friend, but neither of them wanted to get married. But she’d tried her hardest to get them out of it, to no avail.

So, as she sat down at her vanity, Julie closed her eyes and reminded herself the words her mother used to tell her every time she was scared.

It’ll all be okay, Jules. You’re strong, and you’re a diamond in the rough.

The words settled her stomach a little bit.

Her lady-in-waiting, Mira, knocked on her door.

“Come in,” Julie said. Mira bustled in, her flaming red hair pulled into a messy bun, her brown eyes sparkling.

“Oh, Jules, you look lovely.” Julie smiled.

“Thanks, Mira. How’s my hair?” Julie reached up to smooth her curls, which had been combed back and woven into a thick, braided knot at the base of her neck.

“Almost perfect, but it needs a little something,” Mira decided with a smirk. Julie had no idea what Mira had in mind, but she knew she would love it.

Before either of them could say another word, Flynn walked into Julie’s room, followed by her girlfriend, Carrie.

“Hey, underachiever,” Flynn greeted with a smile.

“Hey, disappointment!”

“Dude,” Flynn said, a serious look on her face. “That dress is the shit!” Carrie nodded enthusiastically.

“A definite look.”

“Thanks guys,” Julie said with a grin. “I love it, too! Mira’s got some sort of magic in her hands, because this is one of my favorites for sure.” Mira blushed.

“Well, I’m not quite done,” she admitted. “Jules, your color scheme is pink, purple, and blue, usually, right?”

“Yeah, usually! I can always get behind some other colors, though.”

“Of course. But I think for this dress, the pink-purple-blue scheme would fit the best.”

“Definitely,” Carrie jumped in. “The purple mediates the pink and blue, so those are like side accents.”

“I like this one,” Mira decided, pointing at Carrie. Carrie flipped her hair and smiled. “But yes. So, I was thinking for your hair, we could weave in some thin ribbons in those colors? It would be super simple, wouldn’t even have to take it out and restyle it.”

“Work your magic,” Julie instructed. Mira grinned excitedly and set to work, sitting Julie down at the vanity.

“Okay, Jules,” Flynn sighed. “I know you don’t want me to ask this, but are you doing okay?” Carrie took Flynn’s arm and nodded. “I know this isn’t what you wanted. Either of you.”

“I’ll be fine,” Julie decided. She didn’t want to marry Alex, and she knew he felt the same way. “At least it’s not somebody I hate, though. Alex and I get along really well.”

“I know,” Carrie added. “But that doesn’t mean you have to be okay.” A single tear rolled down Julie’s cheek, and she was grateful she hadn’t done her makeup yet.

“Thanks. To be honest, I’m not really okay, but I’ll live. And besides, it’s not for another three months. And having another friend around for a few months will be nice. Before, you know, I have to marry him.” Flynn let out a sad laugh.

“If I may add my input,” Mira began, “I’ve always hated the prospect of arranged marriages. At the very least, both people should have to agree with it.” Julie nodded, quickly stopping when she felt the ribbons Mira was weaving into her hair tug. “Sorry,” she added. “I’ll be done in just a moment.”

“I agree,” Carrie said. “It’s stupid. Dahlia and Tambor are already allies, so why are they even doing this?”

“I’m not sure, to be honest. My dad says it’s to ‘strengthen agreeability between our separate civilians.’ But at least tried to get me out of it,” she added. “King Xavier and Queen Claire both thought it was a great idea.” Julie had always held some bitterness towards Alex’s parents, given their closed-mindedness and apathy towards minorities and less fortunate people. Alex had always felt the same, and avoided coming out to them for those reasons.

“Well, I personally think it’s homophobic that my best friend is being forced to be part of an arranged marriage,” Flynn decided, “because I’m gay and it annoys me. Plus, you know, she doesn’t want to be part of it.” Julie couldn’t help but laugh at that, as did Mira.

“All done with the ribbons,” she said, handing Julie a mirror to see the back of her head.

“Oh, Mira, I love it!” The ribbons were braided through her thick hair, swooping around the knot, twisting through her own curls and holding the hairstyle together perfectly. Both pretty and practical.

“I’m glad!” Mira looked very proud of herself, for a good reason. Julie’s lady-in-waiting was definitely a woman to be admired (and feared - she’d taken down a full-grown man in a self defense class, while wearing heels). Julie could walk in heels, even run in them, but she’d tried fighting in them, and failed miserably. She might’ve been competent fighting in regular shoes, but heels were a different story. Mira, though, could do it all.

Mira’s phone dinged.

“Oh, Jules, it’s time for the pre-meetup photoshoot!”

“Got it. Thanks, Mira, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Forget about your photoshoots, probably.”

…

The photoshoot involved lots of candid shots of her in the garden, doing her best to look serene, and not show the anxiety bubbling in her stomach. But somehow, she actually managed to get through it without losing it.

“Wonderful, miss. Turn towards me, look to your left- yes, perfect.” The photographer’s voice faded as she obeyed his instructions, a human robot running correctly but with wandering thoughts.

“You look so natural, miss!” he complimented. Julie offered a smile, returning to her thoughts. There had to be a way to get her and Alex out of this. But she couldn’t think of any that wasn’t treasonous, illegal, or flat-out stupid. Of course, as a teenage girl, she felt she deserved to be a little stupid sometimes, but apparently that was “unbecoming of a princess” and “a bad influence.” Personally, she just thought that was biphobic.

-----

Luke POV

...

Luke hadn’t ever traveled much, let alone to a neighboring kingdom, so needless to say, he was pumped to get to visit Dahlia for three months at least. His hope was that, even though no one involved wanted the marriage to happen, they could find a bright side in him getting to stay with his best friend.

Of course, that didn’t change the fact that he felt bad for his charge and best friend, Alex. He knew Alex was gay; in fact, they’d “dated” for a few weeks when they were fourteen. But even after deciding they were better as friends, they were close, maybe even closer afterwards. Luke told Alex everything; he didn’t know if he had a secret that Alex didn’t know.

Everyone in the palace was used to seeing him and Alex wandering the grounds, goofing off, messing around in the music studio, what have you. Technically, Luke was a junior guardsman, and given his bond with the prince, had been assigned (along with an actual guard) to be his security detail. That had evolved into an even stronger friendship, though. Years passed, and soon they were inseparable.

Luke had done his best to cheer up Alex; seeing his best friend that upset was heartbreaking. But there was nothing he could actually do to help, so he settled for laying next to Alex on the floor and staring at the high ceilings.

An hour passed, and soon the afternoon sun was streaming into Alex’s room. Luke saw Alex drag a hand down his face.

“I guess you should start getting ready, then?” he asked.

“Probably.” Luke patted his shoulder. “Do you think it would be too drastic to fake my death?” Luke laughed, knowing Alex was joking, though it wouldn’t have actually surprised him. Alex and Julie were friends, but neither of them wanted to get married. Especially not the gay guy, very publicly, to a girl.

Luke stood up, giving Alex a mock salute, and walked out the door, closing it behind him.

He stood there for a few minutes, straightening his back as a senior guardsman passed him. He ducked his head in a nod, relaxing a moment later. As much as he might’ve come off as a chill guy, he was worried for Alex; even more so when he heard Alex’s breathing quicken from the other side of the wall, his footsteps pacing back and forth.

The panic attack shouldn’t have surprised him. Alex had clinical anxiety, and this was probably one of the most stress-inducing times of his life. Being forced into an arranged marriage - even if you’re friends with the other person - is no fun for anybody. And today he would be going to the Dahlia palace to stay for three months before the ceremony.

Luke fiddled with the hem of his jacket; it was charcoal black, and thick and protective, with eight buttons on the wide front, crossing his chest. He’d gotten used to it, but despite that, he still started sweating in the warm weather of Tambor. The red sash crossing over the jacket had golden embroidery on the edges, and he quite enjoyed running his fingers over the textured thread.

Luke could still hear Alex panicking, but there were no sets of three fake sneezes in between the rapid breaths, so he stayed. Alex was able to recognize when he needed support, and when he needed to be left alone.

Luke spotted Erik nearing him. He couldn’t stop him, but Erik was aware of Alex’s anxiety, so Luke wasn’t concerned. He smiled at Erik, giving him a look, warning him that Alex was having a panic attack. Erik nodded, knocking gently on the door.

“Your highness, are you alright?” When Alex didn’t respond, Luke jumped in.

“He’s a little panicky at the moment. Maybe give him a few minutes to settle?” Erik nodded, and Luke gave a relieved smile.

“You look nervous as well,” Erik noted.

“Well, I am, a little bit,” Luke admitted. “I’ve never been to Dahlia, but I’m going with Alex since I’m his head guard and Royal Best Dude™.” Erik grinned. “I’m excited, though! I bet it’ll be a lot of fun.”

“I’m so jealous,” Erik told him. “I’ve never been outside of Tambor.”

“I’m worried for Alex, though. He’s really nervous.”

“Yeah,” Erik agreed, a flicker of understanding rushing across his face that made Luke smile despite himself. If he was being honest, Luke had a tiny crush on Erik, but nothing substantial. “I mean, it’s gotta suck being closeted to everyone but a few people, and having to marry a girl.” Luke nodded.

“I wish there was something we could do about it.”

…

Luke stood guard off-camera while Alex had his pre-meetup photoshoot and interview. It was what he always did, though this time it felt different, like he was a silent supporter during a tough time, now more than ever.

If nothing else, he could reassure Alex that he looked fabulous in his suit - it wasn’t a lie, either. The navy blue fabric complimented his eyes perfectly, and the golden details were a stunning addition. Tie that with his sharp jaw and awkward, endearing personality? Anybody would simp for him. He had a feeling that many people did, too; Some of Alex’s best photos from these shoots would be printed in the Tambor Times Magazine, and he would also post some - as well as his own selfies - on his instagram. Luke had seen the comments, and always smirked at Alex given the amount of heart-eyed emojis and key smashes there were.

Luke stood behind the cameraman for the candid shots where they needed Alex to be smiling or laughing. No matter how much he practiced, Alex could never get a good candid smile, so Luke took it upon himself to stand behind the photographer making faces, or occasionally imitating their every move with mock seriousness.

When Alex’s musical laugh rang through the air, Luke patted himself on the back.

Worked every time.

He worked his magic for a few more shots afterwards, doing his best to make Alex laugh. It wasn’t just for the photos, though, it was to help him settle down. Luke knew this was a horrible situation, but there was nothing he could do to stop it, so he’d have to try to make it more bearable.

After Alex’s interview, Luke could tell that the reality of the situation was hitting him even more, as a flicker of fear shadowed his face, his hands clenched into fists. Luke walked towards him slowly, making sure Alex was okay with it, and when he didn’t retract, he put his hand on his shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze.

“It’ll be okay,” he promised. And as Alex seemed to relax, nodding and pulling Luke into a hug, that was when he knew.

Alex was his best friend, and didn’t deserve any of this pain or fear. He deserved for things to be okay.

Luke would keep that promise, no matter what.

-----

Reggie POV

...

Reggie knew he was Princess Julie’s honorary older brother; it had been that way for years, after he ran away from his own pathetic excuse for a home. He was lucky King Ray was a kind man; he could’ve just as easily left him there where he’d found him, a nine-year-old in the street of the raining Dahlia capital city. But he’d taken Reggie in, and soon, Reggie was part of the royal family, even if not by blood.

Now, given that he was Julie’s honorary older brother, he hated that she was being put into an arranged marriage. She was eighteen, for God’s sake! Reggie was nineteen, and knew for a fact he wouldn’t have been able to handle it nearly as gracefully as she did. Then again, while she was young, playful, and vibrant, Julie was also the epitome of grace and poise; she’d grown up in a palace, after all.

Needless to say, though, Reggie was sure he wouldn’t be able to not be protective of Julie when Prince Alexander came. He’d met him before, but only briefly; in passing after dinner during visits, mostly. It did help Reggie’s nerves to remember that Alexander was a very sweet, reserved person from his own interactions with the man. But that was his little sister, and while she wasn’t completely devastated, Reggie knew she didn’t want it to happen.

He dragged a hand down his face, flopping down on his bed. He wanted so badly to help Julie out of this, but he couldn’t.

Hey, at least he could cheer her up with his jokes! She always said they were awful, but Reggie knew better. Only the finest of jokes could make Her Royal Highness, Princess Julie Molina of Dahlia, laugh until her sides hurt, even coming from her honorary older brother, Sir Reginald Molina.

He smiled to himself. He might not be able to stop this whole predicament, but he could help her through it.

Reggie hopped up, fixing his suit. The silky red fabric of the vest hadn’t creased at all, nor had his grey suit pants, and yet he still felt the need. He did, however, roll the sleeves of his black dress shirt to expose his forearms, because come on. Even with Dahlia’s cool climate, he still got hot, especially when the sun was streaming through his windows, and he had a few photos outside before Prince Alexander’s arrival. Plus, it didn’t hurt that, according to his Instagram followers, the rolled sleeves made him look “personable” and “hotter than the sun.”

Reggie ran a finger over the shimmering black embroidery of the vest, then winking at the mirror and pulling his best finger guns. It was his god-given right as a fancy bisexual.

He ran his hand through his expertly-styled hair, letting some of his waves free from their stiff hold. It wasn’t the perfect style it had been when his butler styled it a couple hours ago, but it was more of his own style, which he liked a bit better. Spinning on his heel and slipping a hand in his pocket, Reggie walked out his door and down the light-filled corridor, down to the front steps, waving to Mira along the way. As he stepped outside, he heard people outside of the palace gates start shouting. He gave a wink and playful salute, even daring to blow a kiss in the general direction of a cute girl. He noticed Julie rolling her eyes, the photographer seizing the moment to take some shots of him on the palace steps.

He jogged over to Julie, wrapping his arm around her.

“How are you doing, your highness?”

“I’m doing okay,” she said, though both of them knew it was a lie. “How about you, Reg?”

“I’m okay as well. Just popping in to see my fangirls-” he winked at the crowd behind the gate, and a chorus of teenage girls (and a few boys) all sighed dreamily- “and check on you. We both know you’re lying.” Julie groaned.

“This whole thing just sucks.”

“Tell me about it,” he agreed. “But I’ll be here for you every step of the way. You know that, right dude?”

“You’re such a sappy loser,” she told him, and he put her in a playful headlock, posing for the camera.

“I know.” Reggie might’ve been a “sappy loser” of a brother, but he knew that, in Julie’s book, he was a sappy loser (affectionate), and that she understood that he was there for her.

Hopefully that would be enough.

-----

Willie POV

...

Willie had never actually gotten to know Princess Julie, but he’d met her a couple times. He was a chef in the palace kitchens, and on occasion, Julie would come down to try to get to know people. He’d never truly had a long conversation with her, but in the interactions they’d had, she was kind, and had a musical air to her.

He’d seen pictures of the prince she was set to marry, Prince Alexander of Tambor. If Willie was being honest, he was kind of cute.

Okay, really cute.

He’d never actually met the guy, but he seemed nice. His photos on Instagram had good vibes, at least. Willie couldn’t help but hope he’d get to meet him when he came to visit. If it was just because his brain was screaming cute boy, that was nobody’s business but his.

Willie sprinkled more flour on the dough he was kneading, folding it in some more. It was cathartic, this repetitive motion. It helped calm his ADHD sometimes. He kept going.

Sprinkle. Fold. Roll.

Kneading the dough until it wasn’t sticky, he listened to the head chef, Lilian, shout orders at the rest of them. She was a very intimidating woman, tall and muscular, with raven black hair in a sleek ponytail, and fair skin flecked with flour. But she was quite kind, Willie had come to learn over the years. She was just one of those people who scared you if you didn’t know them.

He put the dough in a pan, setting it in the oven and flicking on the light so he could monitor its progress, as could anyone else walking by. Wiping the flour from his hands to his apron, he then put his dishes and utensils in the giant dishwasher, finally washing his hands and grabbing a new bowl.

Tonight was the welcome feast for Prince Alexander. Willie and a few others were in charge of baking loaves of bread for the appetizers, as well as making the desserts; today, mini chocolate mousse cakes.

Dessert was always Willie’s favorite course to prepare, and not just because he could steal bits of frosting from the spatulas after he was finished. It was also because of how making desserts seemed to put everyone in the kitchens in a good mood. Maybe it was the smell of rising sugar, or the bright colors of the tubs of sprinkles, but he adored it.

He cracked the eggs into the mixture of butter and sugar, adding the milk and flour soon after. As he poured in the cocoa powder, a little bit poofed up, creating a chocolatey cloud. The noise of the mixture did nothing to silence his racing thoughts, though.

Would he get to meet Prince Alexander?

Would he like him?

And most importantly, why did he want to so badly?

Willie shook his head, doling the batter into mini cake pans and tapping them on the counter to get rid of any air bubbles, sticking them in an oven after it beeped to temperature.

Another oven beeped.

“Hey, Alyssa?” he called to a plump woman a few meters away. “Could you check on the bread in that oven to your right?” She nodded and leaned down, giving him a thumbs up.

“Probably needs another minute or so, but it looks great.”

“Sick, thanks!” Alyssa nodded and smiled, her dyed-purple hair shimmering in its bun.

Willie grabbed the ingredients he would need for the mousse, arranged them on the counter, then jogged over to the other oven and pulled out the bread - without putting on oven mitts.

He hissed in pain but didn’t let go, quickly putting it on the stovetop and running to a sink to run his fingers under cold water.

Willie already had tons of scars and calluses on his hands, both from cooking and skateboarding on his off-days, so the burn didn’t hurt nearly as bad as it would’ve a few years ago. And by some miracle, it didn’t blister - though it did swell and turn red. Willie cursed under his breath, heading to the first-aid kit and smearing some ointment on it and covering it with a bandage.

“Let me guess,” said Lilian from behind him. “You forgot oven mitts again?”

“Guilty,” he said with a grin. Lilian sighed, but didn’t manage to hide her smile.

“Willie, you need to be more careful. I know your brain always has, like twenty thoughts going at all times, but you could hurt yourself.”

“Twenty-three,” he corrected. “And I know, but you only live once, and I didn’t want the bread to burn.”

“Five seconds to grab a mitt wouldn’t burn the bread.”

“Hey, there’s a first time for everything.” Lilian rolled her eyes and gently swatted him on the shoulder. It wasn’t a mean move, of course, it was her saying she was exasperated but that she cared about you. Willie laughed and went back to his mixing bowl, getting ready to prepare the mousse.

This would be perfect.

#blue writes #be who you are (no compromise)#jatp #julie and the phantoms #juke #willex #flarrie #julie molina #alex mercer #willie nolastname #luke patterson #reggie peters #carrie wilson #flynn nolastname #royalty au #bwya tag

112 notes · View notes

msfcatlover · 4 months

Text

Shadow Jason (Reverse Robins)

(Jason has... too many costumes, I literally cannot find a single reference page that has even a majority of them, let alone all of them. Massive pain in the ass to research this.)

Jason started out with just Tim's costume (he inherited it on incredibly short notice, so he didn't have time to do any modifications before he first hit the streets in it,) but over time he makes it his own.

Which is like...90% tributes & callbacks to Steph, Jason's personal hero. Jason does keep Tim's predominantly black styling and switches his highlight colors from purple & gold to blue & silver, but the blue is very much a dark indigo (cutting the middle ground between Steph's dark purple & midnight blue, and allowing different artists to draw him either leaning more blue or purple depending on lighting & personal taste.)

(Guess who found an even better bat symbol chart? Anyway, Jason's is the "Batman: Hush" bat symbol, and he trades the ribbon-border for silver stitching. Because Cass is right, the stitched look is badass.)

Jason keeps the black cloak with "purple" (now indigo) lining, but he replaces the gold ribbon trim for a thick silver stitching. He also makes the cloak shorter, hanging just below his knees rather than around his ankles. The trim also now traces the entire hem of the cloak, rather than just the hood.

(Once again, thank you Stephanie Brown Costume History page!)

I will add that though all past Shadow hoods have had a pretty basic silhouette, Jason wanted a droopy-pointy one, because he's a dramatic nerd.

(Basic hood vs Jason's hood)

Jason keeps the headset, but he switches Tim's visor out for glowing goggles in tribute to Steph's original Spoiler costume. He also brings back Steph's full-face mask, if a touch more armored than her original mask probably was.

(Jason's goggles glow white, though.)

Jason's chest piece is a lot less bulletproof vest, instead going for a segmented/borderline laminar piece. Somewhere between Duke's "White Knight" armor & Jason's "Gotham Knights: Eternal" chest armor. The panels are all black, but the base underneath them is indigo.

(Keep in mind that this is pre-growth spurt Jason, so while both of these chest pieces are for pretty bulky dudes, Jason's still on the short & lean side side of things. He's not trying to look bulkier, these are just the best references I could find..)

The sleeves are dark blue & fitted, made of durable slash- & stab-resistant fabric. Jason wears basically his RHatO Robin gloves, but without the weird loops on the sides. The gloves are predominantly black, but the red highlights are now indigo. He also has polished metal caps on his knuckles, echoing Steph's costume & buffing his own punches.

(Once again, it is really really hard to get a good reference shot of these gloves, but I think these 2 pages together give you a pretty good turn-around of them.)

I have not been defining utility belt styles, but whatever the differences between them have been, Jason rolls back to Steph's design. His is black with silver clasps/buckles, for the record.

I do like Jason's big pockets & cargo pants from recent comics, but I think he'd want to take Shadow back to its sleeker look than Tim's padded up & kitted out design. (Jason also doesn't need to carry nearly as much gear himself, since the rest of the family kinda babies him a little, so there's almost always one within shouting distance if he needs them.) I'd say he goes back to the padded leggings, but adds pouches that hang from his belt & strap to his thighs, mimicking both the look of Steph & Dami's thigh armor, and his own big-pockets look in recent comics.

(So imagine if those pockets were actually hanging from his belt the way his holsters are here, with a second strap around the thigh to keep them from bouncing around or getting in the way.)

I actually realized while looking at that Gotham Knights article that I wanted to give Jason the boots/greaves from the "Year One" costume, and while hunting for a better image of them found this awesome piece, which not only gives an excellent view of that leg armor but also actually has fitted pants with thigh-strapped holsters, to give a better idea what that should look like.

(Pants & straps should be black, red armor should be indigo with silver edges, which you even kinda get with the grey backing in this piece. Seriously, huge shout out to Damián Navarro Méndez, though, this design & render both look awesome! I hope they paid you really well for this one, and you didn't have to crunch over it.)

And that wraps up Shadow Jason! Hopefully it's enough of his own style to feel unique from the three other designs I've already done for Shadow, and like something Jason would actually wear. It's still recognizable as a Shadow outfit, and makes it very clear who Jason's primary inspiration was without directly ripping Steph off (or even being too obvious at a glance that he's shouting her out.)

I hope there's also enough echo of Cass & Duke to show that Jason's having to serve as kinda both Moonbeam & Shadow simultaneously; the guiding light & grounding dark to Gotham's Batman. Because Jason (like Tim) doesn't have a partner in this, but (unlike Tim) Jason doesn't have to stand fully alone in his efforts.

Phew! Thanks for sticking with me, folks, but we're done with Shadow now! Now I just have to do... everyone's grown-up designs...

(Don't worry, I'm still having fun and it's not nearly as daunting at it seems at a glance. It's just a lot, and their independent identities are going to be a touch harder since I'm basically starting from scratch—just a stack of references & a half-concept/half-vibe—where the legacy costumes have iterated on eachother, allowing me to start from a base every time I make a new one.)

16 notes · View notes

the-lady-writes-what · 3 years

Text

Walpurgisnacht

Since I saw this name first, I’m writing this with Hizashi Yamada (Present Mic). Walpurgishnacht is the German equivalent of May Day, or in the pagan/Wiccan/witchcraft communities, Beltane, which is on May 1. As you might be able to guess throughout this work, Beltane is a holiday centered around fertility, sensuality, and celebrates the beginning of summer. I probably should have written this way back at the beginning of the month, but my personal philosophy about the “witches’” wheel of the year, AKA Wiccan Wheel of the Year, is that dates are kinda arbitrary and I’m not really bound to follow a calendar invented by a random British dude in the 1950′s. I also wanted to include the full moon as a theme because of today’s super rare “Flower Moon.” But enough rambling, I guess.

e/c--eye color

Content: outdoor sex, semi-public, cream pie, praise kink, slight voyeurism on reader’s part, drunk sex (but both participants are still able to consent), also the reader isn’t wearing anything under her dress

Beltane

Lá Bealtaine. Calan Mai. Rudemas. May Day. Floralia. Walpurgisnacht.

Call it what you like, but whatever its name, it gathered local witches to a wild field surrounded by a forest made green with newly sprung leaves. Birch, hawthorn, and oak. Pine and rowan. All made up the woods ringing around the field of weeds, daisies, and grass that stood up to mid-calf. A band of fiddles, drums, and pipes played nothing but rowdy tunes as the sun set low beyond the hills and played louder when the moon, the full moon, rose up and took the sun's throne in the sky. A bonfire was set in the middle of the field encircled by rocks painted with symbols of fertility, joy, and whatever the witch desired most for the coming summer. Because of the ruckus humans were making, the woodland creatures, except for the owl, stayed away from the revelry. Attracted by the bright light, moths fluttered in and around and into the dangerous fires and were sometimes consumed by it once they got too close.

In the shadows, the Maypole stayed erect, bedecked in ribbons of different colors. Green, white, and red were the most popular. Decorating from top to bottom with bells, feathers, leather, and felt bags of herbs and spices, ahem, and phalluses, it was a strange juxtaposition of innocent Christmas colors and pagan heathenry. There was no time to think about Christmas or winter or autumn for that matter. Each and everyone was in the moment, dancing, singing, hopping, jumping over the broom, and kissing one another.

No kids allowed. There were blankets laid out in the shadows, cooled by the damp earth. While nobody was outright having sex in front of everybody present, there was undoubtedly couples, and at least one group of three, enjoying a heavy make-out secession or heavy petting. The smell of sex and sweat was just as pungent in the air as the wine, smoke, and summer fruits. Your cheeks were warm to the touch, whether from the sights before you or from drinking too much wine, you could not tell. Barefooted, you stood, tapping your foot. You watched dancers go round and round the bonfire in a frenzy. It was like watching an ancient Bacchanal. And there you were without shoes, in a red dress resembling a Greek chiton and a flower crown of ferns, blackberry stems, and primroses. What more, you lacked a couple of other things too, not that you were going to explain to the whole company partying it up in the woods what you weren't wearing underneath that red linen dress.

So, you stood there awkwardly. Not dancing, not engaging in conversation, not passing kisses to strangers, just observing. You sipped from a golden cup, not real gold, of course, but made to look like it. The wine ran down your throat. It warmed your throat, your cheeks, your head. The wine settled nicely in your full belly after a day of eating on meat, vegetables, stew, and whatever everyone brought to the table. It didn't go straight to your head, though you slowly started to feel the effects after two cups. This, your third, was already halfway gone. You continued to watch everyone else have fun, but for yourself? A swarm of butterflies crippled any chance of introducing yourself. This community, too large to be a coven, was brand new to you and you to them. They knew you about as well you did them. They were strangers one and all, and you'd been tempted to stay at home and hold a private Beltane in your kitchen, attended only by you and your hearth spirits.

And yet, here you were. Standing off to the side and seemingly content to watch rather than participate, but you were there. That should have counted for something, right? An evil, annoying thought crept into your brain and squatted there. The only reason why no one was paying attention to you was because they were too drunk and absorbed in each other's touches too much care for what you were doing. If they suddenly became sober and stopped making out with each other, then they'd be busy staring at you and wondering why you bothered to come at all. You shivered despite the wine in your system and the waves of heat rolling off the massive bonfire. Your toes curled up in the grass and dirt.

You turned to find a quiet space to collect your thoughts when your eyes met with someone else's. A pair of emerald-green eyes met your (e/c). The man was tall, lanky, and had golden blonde hair flowing down his shoulders. You saw a drink in his hand, a cup similar to yours, which explained the pinkish glow in his cheeks. You caught his eye from across the field. He handed over his goblet to a dark-haired man with an unshaved face. The man with the green eyes bobbed and weaved his way in between the dancers, narrowly dodging a swinging arm to the face. When he, at last, stood at arm's length from you, he smiled at you. You looked behind you and to either side of you. You pointed your finger at yourself.

"I noticed you standing off by yourself. My name is Hizashi Yamada." He held out his hand towards you, a silent request for you to take it.

You took a long swig from your cup and emptied the rest of your wine down your throat. Throwing the cup down, a rush of excitement fogged your mind. You not only reached for his extended hand and took it, you shook his hand vigorously as the alcohol made the blood in your temples throb. Your heart beat like an excited bird in a cage.

"Y/N. That's my name. Y/N L/N."

"Would you care for a dance?" Hizashi bowed from the waist. His hair cascaded off his shoulders in a golden waterfall.

You bit your bottom lip. You looked at Hizashi, then at the dancers. The butterflies in your stomach nearly burst out of your belly. Finally, you swallowed hard and answered, "Yes."

Hizashi took you by the hand with a gentle hold and guided you to the band of revelers. He also kept you within touching distance to not lose you or have you fall on your face. It took a couple of songs before you threw yourself into the dance. Energy seemed to stem from the earth beneath your feet and reach up deep inside of you. Sweat beaded down your neck, face, and arms, but all it did was to help you become more comfortable with whatever it was that entered your body. Hizashi helped you slow down when the players switched to a softer melody. You managed not to step on his feet during the next couple of slow dances. How you did it, you wouldn't be able to say, considering how you kept your eyes on him the whole time.

The butterflies disappeared to but a few. You and Hizashi were staring into each other's eyes even as the band picked up again. Those dancers who hadn't collapsed asleep or paired off and wandered into the woods started again. The two of you, however, stood still among the chaos. The wine had been beaten out with sweat and dancing, but you wondered if it was gone altogether. For it wasn't like you to want to kiss the first stranger you meet at a party. Hizashi wore doeskin leather pants, a flowy white tunic, and a green vest. Both his shirt and vest were opened to give you a good view of his chest. Your eyes fixated on a particular bead of sweat making its way down the plain of his muscled stomach. A treasure trail of blonde hair led to the hem of Hizashi's tight pants. Unconsciously, you licked your lips.

"Would you like to take a break?" Hizashi asked.

You swallowed hard, then nodded. "Yes. I could use a break from dancing." You were panting for breath as Hizashi once again took you by the hand. This time, he led you away from the swirling crowd of dancers still going at it even though the night was running short. He guided you past the couples laying out on blankets kissing and snuggling beneath the moon. You craned your neck to see that silver disk rising high in the sky, almost cresting in the middle of the star-strewn blanket of night. Hizashi led you under the outstretched arms of the trees and finally stopped to rest beneath an oak. You both sat at its roots. You could barely see the dancers, musicians, and couples through the trees, but you could still hear them. Crickets and other insects joined the chorus of the party.

In your revelry, you hadn't noticed how the strap of your dress slid off your shoulder. You thought a moment about pulling it to its correct position, then reconsidered. You leaned against Hizashi. Sitting together, watching everyone else through the brush, you could catch your breath. Away from the crowd and the bonfire, the coolness of the night settled around and on you. You were sobered up by the time you reached for Hizashi's sleeve and gave it a little tug. He turned to you. Your faces were a hairs' breadth apart. Just as you started to lean in for a kiss, another noise caught your attention.

It was two people, a man and a woman. You got up to investigate, and Hizashi followed you. Together, you crept through the woods towards the strange sound. You stepped a little further than the bonfire's light could reach. Your eyes had to adjust to the darkness but then fastened on the small glowing light of a flashlight on the ground. With the flashlight somewhat discarded, the other pair was bathed in moonlight. You hid behind a tree to watch them.

The man buried himself all the way to the hilt inside of his lover, who clawed at his back. You couldn't see their features, but you could see their bodies writhing against each other. More to the point, you could hear them a little too well. He was grunting as he rutted into her and scraped his lover's back in return against the trunk of the tree. Beneath the swollen moon, the woman howled in pleasure and panted. Warmth spread in your lower belly. You never watched two people fuck before; you never watched porn before. Slick began to pool between your legs.

Hizashi's hand found its way to your shoulder. You jumped a little at his suddenness, then just as quickly regained yourself. Hizashi pulled himself closer to you until his chest was against your back. His other hand came to your bare shoulder. Hizashi flexed his fingers on your joints and pressed his fingertips into your flesh. He tucked his chin on your shoulder like he was trying to get a better view of the other couple. The wet slaps of skin against skin silenced everything else. It drowned out the far-away music. You stood there watching those to rut and listened to their moans. You didn't stop Hizashi from kissing the side of your neck nor when he pressed his hardness against your backside.

"It looks like they're having fun." Hizashi chuckled. His laugh rippled along your skin as he pressed his mouth on your neck.

"Y-Yeah," you said.

"Wanna join them, sweetness?" He toyed with the strap that hadn't fallen off.

"Gods, yes," you half moaned.

Before you could realize it, Hizashi spun you around. He kissed you full on the mouth. He toyed with your tongue and explored the cavern of your mouth until he turned you into a moaning mess. Hizashi slid between your legs, forcing the dress to hike up to your hips. His knee brushed against your clit, making you gasp louder than you intended. Hizashi grazed his hand along your hip as if feeling for something that wasn't there.

"Oh my. You're shivering pretty little thing. Aren't you wearing anything underneath that flimsy dress?"

You shook your head. You bit your lip because you were too ashamed of saying such things out loud. You arrived without any underwear at all beneath your dress. Hizashi's arms lowered you to the twig and grass-ladened ground and nudged your opening further with his knee. You gasped again, louder this time even though you saw it coming and could have prepared for it. By the light of the moon, you saw Hizashi's golden brow shoot up, and his mouth bore an impertinent smirk.

"You naughty little thing!" Hizashi bent down and kissed your neck, and left a fiery trail to your breasts.

He lay flat against you, almost to the point of smothering you. Hizashi was careful not to do that. His hands ran up and down your torso; his fingers hugged and gripped every curve they could get a hold of. Your nipples pebbled through the linen fabric of your dress. Hizashi pulled down the straps and the front of your clothing to present your heaving chest to him. He kissed, licked, and nibbled on your breasts until you were pretty sure you were going to melt, thanks to his affections.

"Harder, harder. F-Fuck! Oh god, you make me feel so good. Fuck me harder!" The woman cried out.

The man grunted loud enough for you to hear. Your fingers knotted into Hizashi's long hair as he suckled on your breast like a newborn. He looked you in the eye after letting go of your nipple with a wet pop.

"Would you like to continue?" He asked.

You rubbed your thighs together and found them soaked. The other couple started moaning louder than before. The man was pounding into his woman harder at her request. Hearing them edge towards their climax only made you hungry for your own.

You nodded and added, "Please."

Hizashi sat on his knees. He ditched his shirt and vest (not that they were doing him a disservice, to begin with). His fingers untied the front of his pants, laced up instead of a modern button and zipper. You watched in awe as his finger flew through the knot and lacing. Unlike you, he wore a pair of black boxers. Hizashi shoved down his pants and boxers together to pull out his long, hard cock. A bead of pre-cum leaked at the blunt head. He grabbed the back of your knees and shoved your legs open. There was little preamble when he slid inside your tight heat.

"Sweeting, do you feel good?" Hizashi asked with a strained voice. You looked to see his face scrunched up as if in pain. It must be taking everything for him not to savagely rut into you.

"So good," you whimpered, but it was a pleasing noise. You never felt so full.

"I'll be moving, okay?"

"Okay."

Your single word was all Hizashi needed. He held the back of your knees still as he pulled halfway out then pushed back into your cunt. Your panting returned as soon Hizashi moved in earnest. Each thrust of his hips earned him a moan or a whimper from you. The sound of you fucking joined with the other couple's.

"That feels good, doesn't it?" Hizashi

"Y-Yes!"

"G-Good, good. You feel good to me too. You're so wet. Can you hear yourself? How naughty you sound down here?"

A wave of heat passed over your face. Hizashi was right. You were overflowing down there, and each thrust of his just accentuated the sound. You wrapped your legs around his waist. Hizashi's hands landed on either side of your head to grasp at the dirt. He fucked you faster and faster. Both of your bodies were quivering of each impact. Hizashi was reaching deep inside of you. The couple just beyond the trees hadn't stopped either. Four wanton people were fucking their respective partner's brains out, and nobody was disturbed by the fact. You clenched around Hizashi's cock, pounding away at you.

"Damn, girlie. Does being fucked into the forest floor get you hot and bothered?" Hizashi husked next to your ear. "Or is it the fact that you got all excited after watching another couple getting it on?"

Your only reply was dragging your nails down his back while he continued pounding your cunt. Your back ached because of a twig rubbing against your spine, but that was the least of your concerns. Hizashi leaned back on his haunches, grabbed your hips, and fucked you harder. The new angle reached inside of you deeper than before. His cock found your G-spot. The moment Hizashi hit it, you screamed all the more. Beyond the trees, the other couple responded with a few grunts and cries of their own in reply. Hizashi smirked at knowing where the special button was. With that knowledge, it was easy to hit it over and over again to make you scream again for him.

You felt Hizashi's eyes trail up your body from where you were connected to him. He placed a palm over where he was currently buried, inside your warm cunt. You were sucking him in and gripping him tight with your walls. His fingers trailed over the bunched-up linen fabric of your dress and plucked your nipple. Your breasts bounced with each thrust of his and kept his attention for a moment. Hizashi watched them bounce with every rock of his hips between your legs. You were getting tighter, and he was so close himself. He could explode right then and there, but he wanted to see you come undone first. He had been wondering since the moment he laid eyes on you what you looked like in complete ecstasy.

Hizashi moved his hand back down and flicked your clit. His eyes searched your face. Your eyes were made glassy; he flicked it again. You knocked your head into the ground, moving it side to side. Hizashi kept fucking you and moved his fingers along your clit.

"Yeah, yeah. You're going to come soon. Fuck, babe, let see your pretty face when you come. Let me look you in the eye as you come," said Hizashi. He thrust deeper, faster, and harder into you and moved his fingers at the same pace against your clit.

"That's it! Fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm coming!" The other woman shouted. The man came with a loud, animalistic grunt, which caused his woman to howl in return. Her cries died off into whimpers that you could still hear.

"Fuck, baby, there's so much," the woman whined.

"And don't waste a fucking drop of it either," said he.

The image of cum dripping down your cunt was more than enough to yank you off the edge. Your back arched like a bow. You dragged your nails down Hizashi's back, only this time drawing blood. Hizashi shuddered as you clawed at him like a cat in heat. The sting made his eyes screw tight. He let out a hiss, then he grunted. Without warning, he was spilling all over your insides. His pulsing cock was entirely inside your cunt when Hizashi painted your walls white. You had another orgasm, albeit a smaller one. Arms wrapped around each other as Hizashi flopped down on top of you, unable to pull out and roll over. He was stuck.

There were giggles and rustling leaves. Footsteps approached, but you both were too exhausted to care about who saw you and how you might have looked. Whoever they were, they quickly moved along without saying anything about you or to you. After a while, Hizashi finally regained enough strength to pull out. Luckily, he carried a handkerchief in his pocket. It came in handy when it came time to clean up the mess he made between your thighs. You thanked him and offered a bashful smile. Hizashi helped pull you to your feet, and you walked back to the celebration hand in hand.

The bonfire continued to burn until dawning. When the first morning light began to shine, announcing the first day of the new summer season, you found out that you and Hizashi, as well as that other couple weren't the only ones to have taken advantage of Walpurgisnacht's sensual energy. A bit of slick down your thigh that Hizashi missed when you finally parted and made your way to your car. As you put on something a bit more decent than a linen dress, you couldn't help but wait until the next sabbat to see Hizashi again.

10 notes · View notes

obeymestudentcouncil · 4 years

Text

Arrangement

I got hit with an idea the other day for this, an unofficial prequel of sorts to “Self-Indulgent” and I couldn’t get anything else to write until I got it out of my head. Lucifer x F!Reader x Diavolo, NSFW 18+

You slipped into Lucifer’s room, slipping your shoes off just inside the door. “I got your message, Lucifer. You wanted to see me?”

He was just standing up from his desk, tapping the stack of papers to straighten them before setting them aside and making his way across the room to you. He’d taken off his overcoat and vest, his tie resting across his shoulders, the top two buttons on his shirt unbuttoned. He’d rolled his sleeves up to the middle of his forearms, and you smiled. You loved this look on him, relaxed yet still put together. You raised up on your toes as he leaned down, meeting him halfway to share a kiss.

“Yes, I was finishing work early and wanted to take the rest of the night to relax with you.” He looked over your strappy summery dress appreciatively. “Did I interrupt plans?”

You shook your head, turning in a circle to make the hem of the skirt flare out. “Nope. I just got in. Asmo took me out shopping and to dinner. He didn’t want to go alone today, and I’m not going to complain when I get a chance to get out.”

Lucifer hummed in acknowledgment, drawing you close for another kiss before pulling away at the sound of his bathroom door closing behind him. A blush started dusting over your cheeks at the realization you weren’t alone. He stepped around you, giving you a clear view of the room and Diavolo standing on the other side of the room, smiling at you. You tried to take a step back, bumping into Lucifer’s chest where he stood behind you.

“Lord Diavolo! I didn’t realize you were here too. I’m s-” You paused when he waved a hand.

“No reason to apologize. I’ve known you and Lucifer have been together for a while.” You couldn’t remember ever seeing Diavolo in anything except his uniform or his demon form, but the deep red short sleeve button down over the dove gray shirt and black jeans was certainly a gorgeous look for the prince. He paced across the room slowly, stopping close enough you had to tip your head back to look at him. “I’m assuming I walked in too soon? Lucifer hasn’t had time to tell you why I’m here?” He reached up, brushing a strand of your hair off your forehead gently.

“I’ll admit to a fair amount of jealousy. Not only have you…distracted Lucifer from me lately; I’ve been considering pursuing you myself, only to find out he’d already claimed you.” You took in a shaky breath, beginning to understand what Diavolo was hinting at. “So, I propose an arrangement. Lucifer is not opposed to sharing you, provided you are amenable to the idea.” He leaned over you, his lips brushing your ear as he spoke. “If not, say the word and I’ll leave.”

He stepped back, watching you. After swallowing and taking a shaky breath, your eyes met his. “Yes.” The word was barely out of your mouth before he’d closed the distance to you again, tipping your chin up and claiming your lips in a heated kiss. You felt his tongue sweep across your lips, opening your mouth to allow him access as you brought a hand up to his hair.

You felt Lucifer’s hands on your waist, squeezing lightly. A second set of lips ghosted over your shoulder, making you moan into Diavolo’s mouth. Diavolo pulled away from you, his tongue darting over his bottom lip as he took in your flushed, breathless form. He took your hand, leading you to the bed and settling you on the edge of it. You felt the bed dip behind you as Lucifer climbed up behind you, his chest a solid warmth at your back. Diavolo’s eyes, darkened with desire raked over your body as he pulled off his shirts, tossing them to land on the couch behind him.

He approached you a gentle touch to your knee encouraging you to part your legs enough for him to get closer, bending down and threading his fingers into your hair. You reached a hand up to trace his hair, stopped mid motion when Lucifer’s hand wrapped around your wrist, gently pulling your arm up and away with a soft chuckle. You tried again with the other hand defiantly, unsurprised when he clasped the other wrist as well. “There will be time to touch later, if you’re good.” He whispered against your ear.

You turned your head to Lucifer, lips brushing over his for a heartbeat before Diavolo’s fingers in your hair tightened, directing your face back around to him with a firm tug. He kept the tension, tipping your head back until you were looking up at him, the column of your throat bared. “Don’t worry about Lucifer.” He said with a low growl. “Your attention for now is mine.” He kissed you again, teeth pulling at your lower lip. You sighed into the kiss, unable to move between his hand in you hair and Lucifer’s hold on your wrists. Diavolo’s free hand touched your knee before sliding under your leg, tugging it up to rest around his hip. Your back arched, hips sliding forward to the edge of the bed as he shifted your center of balance. One of his legs pressed against your core, keeping you on the bed. A needy whimper escaped you at the pressure against you, making you painfully aware of how wet you were.

Lucifer lowered your arms, folding them behind your back so he could maintain the hold with one hand. As Diavolo began kissing along your jaw, Lucifer brought his now free hand up, resting it over your eyes and guiding your head back against his shoulder. You gasped as you closed your eyes, the weight of his gloved hand keeping them closed. The tension on your hair faded away, Diavolo’s hand moving away to trace over your shoulder and upper arm. His lips moved to your neck, the scrape of his teeth against your skin raising goosebumps on your arms. The feeling was mirrored on the other side of your neck as Lucifer began kissing and nipping at you as well. Blinded, held immobile between the two demons pulled a whine from your throat, a knot of need forming in your belly.

Lucifer squeezed your wrists once; “Do not move them.” He cautioned as he removed his hand, fingers trailing up your spine. The soft hiss of the zipper sliding down your back was loud to your ears before Lucifer was gripping your wrists again. Diavolo’s lips left your neck, returning to your lips, kissing you hungrily as his hands found your shoulders, easing the straps of your dress as far down your arms as their position would allow. He tugged the loosened front of the dress down, his hands moving to your breasts with another growl. You moaned against his lips, shifting restlessly, grinding against his thigh. Diavolo moved back from you, his hands still playing with your breasts.

“Someone’s needy.” He pressed his thigh closer to you, laughing softly at the mewl you let out. His hands left you as well and you took a moment to just breathe, straining your ears for what he could be doing. The cool leather of Lucifer’s glove left your eyes and wrists. You brought your arms down, slipping the straps of your dress the rest of the way off, blinking in the soft light of the room. As your eyes adjusted your gaze trailed up Diavolo’s chest to meet his eyes, the prince smiling toothily at you. You felt Lucifer move further back on the bed away from you, but you didn’t try to turn to look at him this time. Not when Diavolo’s hands were holding your knees, fingertips tracing slow patterns over the skin as he slid them up your thighs, pushing the skirt of your dress along with them. His eyes never left yours, the unspoken command to not look away enough to keep you still. He reached your hips, hooking his fingers into the sides of your panties and pulling them off in a slow slide. You shimmied out of the dress, earning an appreciative sound from him and he watched you.

Warm hands wrapped around your waist from behind, Lucifer drawing you back along the bed to lean against his chest again. While you had been focused on Diavolo stripping you, the Avatar of Pride had divested himself of his own clothing. He rested his chin on your shoulder, turning his head to kiss your jaw once. You both watched Diavolo as his hands went to his jeans, easing them open and down his legs. He wasn’t wearing anything under them, and your tongue slipped out to wet your lips as his hard length sprang free. Smirking at your reaction, the prince nodded once at Lucifer.

Lucifer’s hands moved down your thighs, easing your legs apart, putting you on display for Diavolo before one hand dipped between your legs, light, teasing touches to your wet folds. You bit your lip, whining for more contact, trying to move your hips against him for more friction but his arm around your waist kept you in place. As he watched the view before him, Diavolo’s hand went to his cock, stroking himself to full hardness. “Quit teasing her, Lucifer.” Lucifer’s fingers finally pressed harder, one, then a second easing inside you. He pumped them in and out a few times before fully burying them in you, curling against your walls. His palm rubbed against your clit, and you felt the knot of desire that had been building finally start to unravel. You cried out as your orgasm washed over you, Lucifer’s fingers working you through it. Your head had fallen against his shoulder, eyes closing when you came. As you came down from your high you opened your eyes, shocked to see Diavolo had joined you on the bed, crawling his way to you. Lucifer moved his hand from you, bringing it to his lips to taste you as Diavolo lowered his head, lapping at your sensitive core. As he pulled away, you felt your heart pound at the sight of his gold eyes glowing. “As exquisite as I imagined.” He murmured as he sat back on his heels, his wings and horns appearing. A flicker of black in the corner of your vision confirmed that Lucifer had changed as well.

Lucifer let you go, easing your body forward into Diavolo’s arms before slipping out from behind you, reclining off to the side. Diavolo tipped your face up, kissing you deeply again, his hands cupping your ass, claw like nails pressing hard against your flesh as he lifted you effortlessly. You felt the head of his cock pressing against your slit, lowering you slowly. You moaned, the sound muffled by his mouth on yours, his tongue twining with yours. It seemed to take an eternity for him to press your hips flush against his. “Take a moment, you move when we’re ready, princess.” He murmured against your lips.

You settled for a moment as you grew accustomed to his size, gingerly placing your hands on his shoulders to raise yourself up, rolling your hips as you lowered back down. He sighed against you, thrusting his hips up into you as you came back down, wrenching a gasp from you. Your bodies found a rhythm, his hands at your hips to help you meet his thrusts. Each thrust drove him against the most sensitive spots in you and brought you closer to another orgasm. As you wound tighter, you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching over his shoulders, nails digging into his back in the area between the first set of those beautiful wings of his. “Oh, that’s it; You can’t hurt me, Princess. Let go if you want.” His lips were everywhere; your lips, your jaw, your neck, and as far down your shoulders and chest as your position would allow. He didn’t hesitate to scrape over your skin with his teeth either, lapping over any bites with his tongue to soothe. You cried our as you felt your walls clench, clawing at his back as your climax shook you. “Ugh…you were tight before, this is even better.”

He chuckled, pushing you backwards gently until you were pressed back onto the mattress. His hips continued to slam into you. “I truly regret not taking you to my bed sooner; you laid out beneath me is a sight to behold.” He took a moment to look at you, his hips slowing as he savored the last aftershocks of your orgasm. He pulled your hips back down towards him as he pressed your thighs further apart. You hadn’t thought he could reach further into you but the change in position certainly made it feel like he was hitting deeper. Your head lolled for a moment when his fingers hit a spot on your knees that did…something. The feeling sent a jolt straight back to your core, making your back arch and a soft scream leave your throat.

Your eyes met Lucifer’s. The other demon was still reclining where he had been the whole time, his eyes focused on your face, one hand idly stroking his own arousal. You tried to turn your head away, ashamed at enjoying someone’s touch other than your lovers, but a soft touch to your cheek kept you there. Diavolo leaned over your body, his words low in your ear for your hearing only. “Look at him. Let him see how much you’re enjoying what I’m doing to you. We were all in agreement on this; he’s pleased to see you pleasing me.” He buried his face in the crook of your neck, suckling at the flesh there, tongue and teeth working over it. “Reach for him, princess. Help him chase his own pleasure.”

You arm moved slowly, not wanting to deny Diavolo’s command but nervous to reach for Lucifer. You raven haired lover smiled, changing position until he was sitting on his heels next to your and Diavolo. He bent down as he gently raised your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm before guiding it to his length. Your hand moved slowly at first, soon picking up speed even as Lucifer’s hips began bucking inot your hand. Diavolo’s hips were beginning to lose the smooth rhythm, bucking into your erratically as he approached his own end. He raised himself off you enough to watch your face, shifting his angle until he was grinding his pelvis against you each thrust. You were panting, moaning as you felt your body strain to reach that peak again. “One more Princess. One more for me and you can rest.” A few more thrusts and you screamed, the climax tearing through you, Diavolo following you almost immediately, a growl that almost was a roar ripping from him as he bared his teeth. He teased that spot on your knee again, each pulse of your walls causing another pulse of his cock as he filled you.

Lucifer’s hand joined yours on his cock “Open your mouth, Dove.” He said quietly, moving closer to you. You obeyed, opening your mouth as his come splattered hot and thick on your lips and cheek. You lay there panting, tongue darting out to clean off all the fluids you could reach. A warm thumb reached down, Diavolo collecting what you missed off your face. You turned to him, opening your mouth obediently, surprised when instead he brought his thumb to his own lips. He smirked after he’d cleaned the digit, raising an eyebrow.

“Ah. I didn’t fully explain what I meant when I’d said you’d been distracting him from me lately, did I?” He laughed, finally pulling out of you, making soft soothing sounds when you winced. He lifted you gently, moving off the bed to take you to the bathroom while Lucifer took care of the bedding. “Let’s get you cleaned up, then we can talk about where we stand from here.” He nuzzled the top of your head. “However, I don’t intend on this night being over yet.”

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me diavolo #citrus #my fics #my writings

216 notes · View notes

ladynightmare913 · 3 years

Text

Red Rose, Blood Moon

Welcome to chapter 2! This is an original story inspired by the tale of Red Riding Hood. I would like to say a special thank you to my best friend and co-author Olivia ( @asunshinepuff) for joining me in writing this world onto paper.

This chapter contains mentions of weapons and an attempted sacrifice. You have been warned.

The story contain only original characters created by Olivia and myself. For those of you who want to be tagged to follow along this story, let me know! If you have any curiosities, theories, or questions, feel free to ask me or Olivia on her blog.

I hope you enjoy, now without further adieu!

Chapter 2: The Bride in Red

The rest of the night Cassandra couldn’t sleep, and at first rays of sunlight, she burst from her bed, dressed for the day and was out the door before her parents could so much as say good morning.

The young girl only had one thought in her mind as she marched across the village. Why? Why didn’t she tell me? Is there something she had done to make her seem untrustworthy? They were best friend’s weren’t they? Practically sisters since they were toddlers. She wasn’t even hurt, at least she thought she wasn’t, she just wanted to know the truth. So she continued on to the cottage inside the woods.

The cottage was a quaint little thing, surrounded by bushes and tree branches that hung low, covering the roof. Snow covered everything, the cottage itself was a warm dark wood with ash hardwood lining the front, the second story was a soft cream in color with dark wood accents. There was smoke coming from the chimney.

Rosabella opened the door, her sapphire blue eyes brightening. “Cass! Good morning!” She tilts her head in confusion, no one ever visits her Grandmère’s cottage. Rosabella shook those thoughts away. The reason why no one visited was because the villagers didn’t like grandmere, and grandmere didn’t like them. But Cassander was her friend, surely her grandmere would like her. Rosabella smiled.

Cassandra had planned what she wanted to say, to ask her friend, but the moment her eyes met Rose’s, the words seemed to disappear. “Good morning,” She finally managed to get out.

Rosabella smiles. “Did you eat breakfast yet? Grandmère made apple pie! I was going to bring it to your house!”

Cassandra’s eyes widen. She did not eat breakfast that morning, and Rose was distracting her from her thoughts, she needed to ask her questions. But they could wait until after pie, right?

“Really? She did?” Cassandra exclaimed. Rosabella promptly nodded before grabbing her hand and pulling her inside the cottage, shutting the door.

“Hold on, let me tell Grandmere you’re here.” Rosabella turns to leave when Cassandra only holds her hand tighter. Rosabella blink in confusion. “Cass?”

The blonde haired girl looked to her friend in desperation, her eyes shifting quickly. She was nervous, she wasn’t nervous on the way over to the cottage, yet her body decided to shake now? With a stained sigh, she looks to her friend. She was determined to not let this go until she had an answer. “I saw you.”

“You saw me?”

Wonderful, how vague could she possibly get? She was very worried about admitting what she saw. She was scared that her best friend would get angry with her and she’d lose a friend. Her only friend really. “Please don’t be mad, I didn’t mean to… but I saw you, at wolf’s time… turn… ”

Rosabella’s smile faltered, her shoulders tensed. “When?”

“When you were at the edge of the forest… last night.” She paused at the pale face of her friend. Her worry only increased at what she might have to say in response. She didn’t know what she should do. If she lost her best friend from this…

Rosabella paled, “It’s not what you think…” She lowers her voice to a whisper. “I didn’t kill the sheep! I swear! Yes I like to eat meat but I would never do that! You have to believe me! I’m not what the villagers say about me! I would never hurt anyone!” Her eyes start to water. “I didn’t want to scare you, but I couldn’t tell you, Grandmère wouldn’t let me! I’m not hurting anyone in the village! Grandmère says I’m too small to be dangerous! I’m a puppy!”

Cassandra tenses at the sight of tears in her friend’s eyes, she hadn’t meant to make her cry. But, now things made sense. Why Rosabella always had to be back home before dark, why she would panic if she lost track of time, why the dog from last night was so smart, why the dog’s eyes looked exactly like Rosabella’s. “Rose…” She whispered softly.

“Please don’t tell anyone, they already think I’m strange…” The raven haired girl with bright red streaks pleaded, tears running down her cheeks.

The blonde shakes her head, she wraps her arms around her friend and hugs her tightly. A small attempt to comfort Rosabella, but she knew she had to say something to calm her down. “You can trust me… I won’t tell anyone.” Please trust me. Her sky blue eyes widened ever so slightly, if she were to keep this a secret, she would have to make sure her father never found out. He wouldn’t hesitate to go after Rose, despite their friendship. “Especially not Papá, He can’t ever know…”

The weeping girl pulled away from the hug as she wiped her tears with her sleeves as she nodded. “Thank you…” Rosabella finally smiles. “So… want some pie?”

“Yes please.” Cassandra replies with a smile of her own. “Rose? For what it’s worth, I don’t think you're strange at all, only” She pauses for a moment, thinking for the word she had recently learned, “stupefying!”

Rosabella’s eyes widened, a wide smile breaking through her tears. “Thank you.”

“So… you’re a wolf?” The girls burst out into laughter. They settle down for pie, Cassandra stays in their cottage nearly the entire day. Only when Grandmere told the little girl to head home did she leave, hugging her friend good night. And the villagers watched in amazement as little Cassandra walked into the village from the path leading to Grandmere’s cottage, she ignored them.

Soon the villagers began to notice the girls spent more time than ever in each other’s presence. Cassandra described the stories in her books with vivid detail, and Rosabella would invite Cassandra to spend the night in her grandmère’s cottage. Stuffing themselves full on pies and sleeping next to the fireplace.

As the years went by, Cassandra and Rosabella had grown in beauty and grace. Erinna had taken it upon herself to ensure that Rosabella didn’t go fight the older boys whenever they did something remotely idotic. And if Rosabella by chance did teach the boys a lesson, Cassandra would somehow become quite forgetful of what things occurred. Or, she would take it upon herself to smack them with a book. Erinna would only shake her head in amusement at Cassandra. But Rosabella was not as fortunate.

The village ladies would all scold Rosabella for beating the boys in the village, and for not acting like the proper young lady she was becoming. The village chief’s wife, who unfortunately gave birth to Gregory, marched with her group of fellow mothers, to Grandmère’s cottage to compile a list of grievances about the girl. Grandmère promptly shoved them off her land with a broom. And when that didn’t work, the old woman proceeded to grab her crossbow. The ladies never returned. Not even when the hem of Rose’ skirt was a few inches too short, or when she laughed far too loudly, or when she beat up Gregory for simply being annoying.

Cassandra stayed true to her word and kept Rosabella’s secret. But with each passing day she watched her father leave for a hunt, her desire to become a hunter only grew. She wanted to prove to her father that she could be strong enough. That she could be like him, she wasn’t going to be like the others. She shared her wants with Rosabella and Grandmère, asking them how to go about it. Grandmère suggested to just learn as much as she could from books and put it into practice in secret, and once Cassandra was ready, Grandmère would offer her support. And a good slap if there should be the need.

And so, Rosabella took Cassandra into the forest. When on her nightly outings as a wolf, Rosabella came across many perfect spots for her to practice her archery. They would often sneak to and from the forest. Having many close calls when the hunters made a sudden decision to go for a small hunt.

The villagers grew more and more tired and outraged whenever the morning after Wolf’s Time was filled with the remains of a slaughter pig. And it only grew worse when people began to be attacked in broad daylight. Yet no one was able to catch so much a glimpse of the wolf. Only the dark brown fur left behind. In desperation, the village chief called for the help of a shaman from a neighboring village across the mountain pass.

The Chief had called for a village meeting the day the Shaman arrived. The Chief had every lined up in a circle in the center of their small village. Rosabella stood beside Cassandra, both watching in confusion as the Shaman waved a bowl of burning incense gently as he walked. How was burning incense going to solve anything?

The Shaman was an old man with fair skin, blue eyes and dressed in what Rose thought was the most hideous set of robes.

“Do you really think he can stop the wolf?” Rosabella whispered under her breath as she looked at Cassandra with amusement.

“With a little smoke? No way.” Cassandra whispered back under her breath.

The girls giggle, Erinna shushes them quietly. Shaking her head. The village chief walked towards Rosabella.

The Chief was a bulky man with long brown hair that was pulled back in a small strip of leather. He had green eyes with a dark tanned skin from being under the sun. A dark blue sash strapped across his chest, over his brown vest. He looked troubled.

“Where is your Grandmère?”

With a sigh, Rosabella answered. “Grandmère said she was too old to stand in the sun all day. And that a shaman will solve nothing.”

The Chief only frowns. “I thought I told you to drag her by her wrinkly old skin if you had too.”

“To which she promptly told me to tell you, ‘Come get me yourself if it’s so bloody important.’”

The mothers gasped in shock and shook their heads in disdain. The Shaman stopped his incense waving to glare at Rose as well. Rosabella looked down to her hands, it was always like this. The Chief merely scoffed before he walked away. Rosabella sighed in relief. The Shaman carried on with his incense, he walked slowly. Rose’s nose twitched, the smell grew strong as he got closer.

When the Shaman was right in front of Rose, he paused. His head turning to look at her closer. Studying the red streaks of hair, the pale skin and large blue eyes. His eyes narrowed for what seemed like eternity for Rose. She could hear the women whispering amongst themselves, some nodding their heads. Some even looked smug. As if they were not surprised the Shaman stopped at her. That everything they ever scrutinized about her, the way she looked, the way she acted and spoke, was proof enough about how strange she was.

“You.” Was the verdict. One simple word and her blood turned ice.

“Me?” Rosabella asked, her head snapped up, her eyes wide.

The Shaman didn’t bother to answer her, only to turn to the rest of the villagers.

“I know why the wolf has plagued your village!” He shouted. “She has the mark of the wolf!” He pointed to Rosabella.

Rose starred in fear and shock. How? “What?!” But the Shaman ignored her and carried on with his proclamation.

“Her hair is stained with the blood of the wolf’s victims! She was born to be the sacrifice! To pay for the wolf’s crimes! Build an altar and offer the child to the wolf! Then will your village finally be free of the wolf! The Bride of the Wolf will free you from this curse!”

The villager’s gasp and one woman even says “I knew it! She’s the cause of all this!”

Quickly, two men grabbed onto Rosabella’s arms. Rose couldn’t move, she was frozen in terror. Her mouth agape, her eyes wide in fear.

“No! You’re lying!” Cassandra cries out desperately, eyes wide with tears threatening to fall. “Let her go!”

Rosabella shakes her head frantically, pulling against the men. “Please… I have done nothing wrong! I am not the wolf’s bride!”

“Please! Leave her alone! She’s innocent!”

“Hush Cassandra.” Royce grips his daughter’s arm as Rosabella is dragged away. “Or he’ll say you’re the bride as well!” He frowned.

“Better than letting her die!” Cassandra protests, pulling against her father’s grip.

“Cassandra don’t test me! This is not one of your stories where speaking up for someone will save them, it will only drag you down with them.” He only wraps his arms across her chest to stop her from running towards Rose. He only pitted the girl. She was strange yes, but she didn’t deserve this fate.

“Papá please… I can’t lose her!” She pleads, losing the battle against her tears that streamed down her face. This couldn’t be happening, this wasn’t fair. Failing over and over to remove her father’s arms, she stops her protests and sobs as her friend grew smaller and smaller in the distance.

The villagers ignore their protests, they begin to follow the men taking Rosabella away to the barn.

“Please! I didn’t do anything!” Rosabella pleaded. The men simply tossed to her to the ground, a sob escaped her lips. The men chained her wrists and legs. The Shaman left a bowl of incense in front of Rose.

“Please… I’m innocent!” She sobbed, her eyes pleading with the Shaman.

“I know you are innocent, but only the blood of the innocent can pay for the crimes of the wolf. Think of your village, your sacrifice will free them from the curse.” The Shaman patted her head.

Her shoulders fell. “My village…”

The men joined the group outside of the barn as they watched. Some woman gave her a pitying look. The Shaman joined them.

“We have three days to prepare an altar before Wolf’s Time. I suggest you not try anything.” The doors slammed shut.

Rosebella stayed there frozen for hours. With a deep breath, Rose slowly layed down to her side, curled up tightly. She sobbed silently for hours. Praying for anyone to stop this. To wake her up and tell her it was all a nightmare. But no one came.

Cassandra had hardly moved from her bedroom, the door remained tightly shut. She couldn’t stop crying. It was as if her heart had split in two. And, a burning anger wanted to rise from deep inside her. The only time she truly left, sneaking out from her room whilst her father was out in the village, and her mother was busy in the living room. She hardly ate the food her mother offered, actively avoided running into her father, and could not find solace in her books like she used to.

She lay down upon her bed, silently looking out the window. Watching the snowfall on the day that should’ve been happy for her friend, but in fact was the opposite. How horrible, she mused. The day of Rosabella’s birth was now the day of her death.

A thought crosses Cassandra’s mind. Does Grandmère know? She sits up. What if Grandmère didn’t know and has been waiting for Rosabella to come home? Looking back out the window, she knew someone had to tell her. Better her than someone from the village… She looked towards her bedroom door, listening silently to her parents faint voices for a moment, then pushed herself off the bed. She grabs her satchel, putting it both on before putting on her long violet cloak over her dress. With a deep breath, she unlocks her door.

“Cassandra!” Her mother gasps in surprise as she looks over to see her child descending down the stairs. Erinna had been in the midst of preparing lunch for her family, the ladle dropping to the floor in her shock. Erinna quickly took notice of her cloak. “Where are you going?” She asks, concern etched on her face.

Cassandra pauses at the base of the stairs, clutching the strap of her satchel before looking to her mother. “Grandmeré’s.” She says softly.

“Oh…” Erinna looked as if she wanted to say more, but she stopped herself. “... Don’t be out too late… I’m sure she’s not in the best of moods.”

Cassandra only stares blankly at her mother before she walks out the door. The walk to the cottage was silent and full of dread. So lost in her thoughts, Cassandra didn’t notice that she was standing at the front door. Her eyes glazed over. She knocks on the door.

No one answers.

Cassandra frowns. She knocks again.

“Go away!” A familiar voice yells out. The sound of things crashing is clear.

Cassandra takes a breath before she yells out, “Grandmère, it’s Cassandra…” There is no answer, only a loud clatter.

With a sigh, she places a hand upon the door handle - finding it to be unlocked and opens the door, stepping inside. “Is everything alright?” Her eyes widened as she looked at the state of the dining table, there were weapons all over it. Daggers, a crossbow, pistols, bullets. “What are you-?”

“Think child! Where’s all your intelligence you so proudly show off! What does it look like I’m doing?! I’m going to break Rosabella out of her prison!”

Grandmère was a thin, tall woman with a sharp pair of green eyes behind round glasses. Her hair was stark white, her skin was pale, and her lips were in a firm line. She looked frail with her long bony fingers, but Cassandra knew better than to underestimate the strength of the older woman. She was dressed in a dark grey dress with a white shall, and black boots. Grandmère had aged well.

“Getting a shaman, ha! As if a shaman will solve their problems! I told them, you need to use silver to kill that monster, but did they listen to me? No! It’s not as if I’ve hunted those blasted wolves for nearly sixty years of my life. What could I know?” The old woman grumbles out.

Cassandra watches the old woman she’s come to know carefully, observing the weapons all over the dining table once again. She walks closer to the table, her eyes shining with newfound hope. “Let me help.”

Grandmère scoffed, she grabbed a pistol to clean as she eyed Cassandra. “How can a child help me? Have you ever broken someone out of their prison?” She raises a thin grey brow.

Cassandra’s eyes narrow slightly. “No, I haven’t. But I can learn!”

Grandmère lowers the pistol as she looks over the child. “Even if I did accept your help, you’re far too young! You’ll be fumbling about more than you actually helping me!”

“Too young? I’m not a little girl anymore.” She says with a scoff. “And you’re too old to be sneaking about at night. What if you trip over a pebble, then where would you be? On the ground because you can’t get up.”

Grandmère glares at the little girl. “You’re too noisy.”

“And you're too skinny.”

The old woman and child glare at each in silence for a long moment before Cassandra breaks into a smile. “Just trust me!”

Grandmère’s eyes narrowed her eyes, she sighs. She looks back to her weapons.

“Where did you get all this stuff?”

“I’m a hunter, dear. It’s mine, from my youth.” She answers as she cleans another dagger.

Cassandra gasps in surprise, “You were a hunter?!”

“Not just any old hunter girl, I hunted monsters. Monsters like that wolf.”

Cassandra’s eyes widened even more if it was possible. She had so many questions, and she was about to ask before she noticed a large leather bag on the floor by Grandmère’s feet. Her shoulders slumped. It was as if the pain from Rosabella’s situation resurfaced inside her. She was going to be alone, wasn’t she? She’d never see them again…

“You’re leaving, aren’t you…”

“Well we can’t very well stay here now can we? This would be the very first place they’d search. I have to take Rosabella someplace safe.”

Cassandra understood. She didn’t like it, not at all, but she understood and oh how she wished she didn’t. A thought comes to mind. “If you hunt monsters like these wolves… then how come you didn’t kill Rose? Isn’t she one of them?”

The old woman finally stopped. Slowly lowering the dagger. “She’s not one of them.”

Cassandra frowned. “What do you mean?”

“It’s different, she can change at will without pain. The others can shift when the moon is full. And when they shift they always howl from pain.” Her hand reached for another pistol.

“But why would you risk it?” Cassandra placed her hand on the pistol.

“Move the hand girly.”

“I will, once you answer.” She says, her gaze unwavering.

Grandmère glared, after a long moment she looked away. With a sigh, the old woman spoke at last. “... The life of a hunter… is a life you live alone… everyone I knew died from some monster… I was the only one left.” The old woman paused. Her breathing slowed. “I was lonely… and I had stumbled upon this village by mere chance. But they thought I was strange so they sent me away to live in this old cottage. But oh did they come crying to me whenever someone fell ill.” She tsked, “But when the Chief brought Rosebella in that tiny blanket, I fell in love. I learned quickly what she was, and she was different. I had never seen hair like heirs before. Nor had I seen a wolf pup with such blue eyes.” She finally looked back to Cassandra. “It was a chance to have someone, and I took it. Fate brought her to me, it was a risk I knew how to deal with… if Rose was the same as those monsters.” She pulled the pistol from under Cassandra’s hand. “And she wasn’t.”

Cassandra grew quiet as she listened to the old woman’s tale. She could imagine it clearly, like she was there herself. In a way, she understood. Thoughts ran through her mind slowly as she listened to the old woman’s explanation, and she watched Grandmère pull the pistol from under her hand. Looking back down to the leather bag at the floor, a thought comes to mind. Albeit it was incredibly reckless, and she doubts Grandmeré will accept, but it’s the only one she had. “Take me with you, please.”

Grandmère froze, she stared at Cassandra. “And what about your parents? They would know I took you with me.”

“I don’t care. Rose is my best friend, and she's the only one who has ever understood me.” She says with a shake of her head. I’m strange too. “And I can’t go pretending that everything is alright, in this small minded village, if she’s not here.”

“If you come with us, you’ll probably never see your parents again.” She tilts her head, looking her over. “Are you really willing to never see them again?”

“I know, and I’ll miss them.” She admits, keeping her gaze locked onto the old woman. “But that won’t change my mind.”

The old woman stared at the girl for a long time, searching for something. Cassandra did her best to not look away. Grandmère’s gaze was intense, as if it was piercing in her very soul. She relaxed her gaze when she seemed to have found what she was looking for. She continues her task of cleaning her weapons.

“Go home. Pack one bag. Go to your bed in your day clothes. When your parents are asleep, sneak out.” She says nothing more. Cassandra hugged her.

“BUT DON’T BE SMILING AND OBVIOUS ABOUT IT!” Cassandra only giggled. “So, what’s the plan?”

After spending the day with the old woman, Cassandra did just as she was told. She went back home. She packed one bag. She got into her bed in her day clothes. She allowed her parents to tuck her into bed. And when her parents were asleep, she rose from her bed.

“Goodbye Mamá, Papá… I love you…” She turns to the window, opening it, a cold breeze filling her room, but she ignores her urge to shiver as she sits on the edge of the window. Reaching behind her bed, she grabs the packed bag and throws the strap over her shoulder. She looks back into her room that she’s known all her life. “I’m sorry.”

She closes the window behind her before jumping down to the snow, landing with a soft oof.

A sigh filled her ears. “You couldn’t have chosen the door? Like a normal person?” Grandmère scowled.

Cassandra merely rolled her eyes, “If by normal you mean a girl who looks at boys all day? Or dreams about boys? Then no. I’m not normal.”

With a scoff from the old woman, the pair went off to the barn.

Rosebella slept. And when she didn’t sleep she only stared at the walls of the barn. She didn’t know if it was day or night, only that she was alone and cold. And hungry.

It was for the village. Her thoughts would remind her the reason for her suffering. It’s for the best. She couldn’t disagree. They never never liked her anyway. But, did she really have to die? Clearly she must. The shaman said so. But... I don’t want to die.

Now that wasn’t really her choice now was it? Rosabella pulled on her chains, she was exhausted and weak from the lack of food. You’d think a sacrifice would be treated better. Well… at least they didn’t chain her to a tree. Her eyes hurt from crying, she closed her eyes, it hurt to think. She just wanted to sleep.

When Rosabella awoke, she was being carried into the village bath house. Her head rolled, her eyes stung from the sunlight, she hadn’t seen the sun in days. The woman who carried her stripped her of her dress and proceeded to wash her body clean. The bath water smelled of rose petals. She tried to pull herself free but the women only shushed her, and carried on.

Once the bath was finished, they dried her up and dressed in a simple red dress with a hood. It didn’t fit her well. They didn’t even have the courtesy to make her a dress that fit? Rosabella found herself unable to care. They brushed and braided her hair, painted red paint to her lips and took her outside.

There the villagers were waiting. An altar was built in the center of the village, she swallowed thickly.

“Please… don’t do this…” They all ignored her.

She was set upon the altar, and chained up once more. Her eyes searched the crowd, but she saw neither Cassandra or Grandmère. Good. She didn’t want them to see her. To see her as a sacrificial lamb.

The Shaman did his prayer that Rosabella didn’t bother to listen too. It was just a formality in her opinion. A nice way to send someone to their death. Afterwards, the Shaman sent everyone off to their homes when the sun began to set.

Well, it won’t be long now. She closed her eyes.

The next time she opened her eyes, it was deep into the night, she saw a figure looming over her. “... Cassandra?”

Cassandra smiles. “Hello Rose!” She whispered. She looked to another figure, who was pulling on the chains.

Rosabella gasps, she sits up. “Grandmère… What are you both doing here?!”

“Hush! We’re breaking you free, what else does it look like?” She says in a low voice. Grandmère turned her attention back to picking the locks. The chains fall to the altar.

“But!”

“I don’t want to hear a word about you being a sacrifice! It’s looney that’s what it is.” She grumbles. Rosabella stared in wonder.

“We better hurry.” She says as she pulls Rosabella up, quickly taking her hand and guiding her away.

“I’m not letting those fools murder my grandchild.”

The old woman leads the two girls through the woods, past her cottage. On the edge of the forest a dirt path comes to view with an open carriage with a horse waiting for them. Grandmère lifts the girls into the carriage She groans a bit picking up the girls before she climbs in. Once they settle she reaches into her satchel and pulls out a beautiful bright red embroidered cloak and hands it to Rosabella.

“I was saving this for your 16th birthday, but now you’ll just have to grow into it.” The old woman smiles gently as she cups her granddaughter’s cheek.”

Rosabella stared at the beautiful cloak. Gently stroking it before putting it on, she smiles. “It's wonderful, Grandmère, thank you.”

The old woman smiles before she looks at Cassandra. “Are you still sure?”

Cassandra nods with a smile of her own, “There’s no turning back.”

The old woman nods before she reaches into her dress pocket, pulling out a piece of parchment and handing it to the driver. “Go to the city. No stops.”

The driver nods before he looks to forward. The carriage moves departs, the old woman and two girls escape the village, just as a wolf howls. They were free.

#Original story #Red Riding Hood #asunshinepuff ocs #our ocs #Rosabella Louve #Cassandra Azure #Royce Azure #Erinna Azure #Grandmere #cw weapons #cw sacrifice attempt #Werewolves #Curse #not my pic.#ladynightmare ocs

9 notes · View notes

courage-a-word-of-justice · 3 years

Text

AU in progress...

...This AU seems to be kind of stuck, so if I write it out like the others, maybe it'll all come together in my head...?

Basically, this is a proper magical boy AU, but with some cues from the pseudo-Pokemon AU. The reason I haven't inflicted it on anyone before this is because when you think "magical boys", you think "fancy outfits" and some things work better than others with some characters. This AU has probably given me enough cursed mental images to last a lifetime, too, which doesn't help matters at all...(*erhem* Samatoki with Jakurai-length hair... *erhem*).

So in this AU, TDD and the rest of the Yamada family come from the mascot/fairy world (<-no clue what I should call it). TDD once fought in the name of Chuohku (which took over the mascot world as well as the human world), but are now fighting for themselves and their world by forming partnerships with humans. Each division has a theme for their magical boy outfits, set powers, transformation items (which they already have in canon, they just need to be designated) and, in some cases, accent colours as well.

BB:

The only team with only fairy creatures.

They transform into suits of their individual colour using their badges (Ichiro uses the B badge, Jiro the M badge and Saburo the L badge).

They can assume a halfway form with wings and claws.

Ichiro: A fairy that appears to be a scarlet macaw. Controls fire.

Jiro: A fairy that appears to be a Spix's macaw, slightly smaller than Ichiro's fairy form. Controls water.

Saburo: A fairy that appears to be a yellow budgerigar. Controls electricity.

MTC:

They transform into white suits and short cloaks kind of like Otome's (...apparently the correct term is "capelet"...?). Samatoki uses his necklace, Jyuto uses his tie pin and Riou uses his dog tag to transform.

Samatoki: A fairy that appears to be a white unicorn. Can add the horn to his human form to enhance his ability to use magic, but he would prefer to stick with his (fully) human form out of embarrassment for his other forms. Summons spikes.

Jyuto: Summons handcuffs (kind of like Hibari from KHR does).

Riou: Summons guns. Discovered a weakened Samatoki (in fairy form) in the Yokohama wilderness and threatened to eat him (!!!) before Samatoki got defensive, lashed out at him and then turned human.

FP:

They transform into marching band outfits (black button-up shirt, white shako hat, white short shorts, suspenders, short white military coat with epaulettes and black boots that go to the knees). Ramuda transforms using the ribbon around his neck, Gentaro uses the pin on his cape and Dice uses the dice and tassel decoration in his hair.

They each have an accent colour which differs from user to user. These appear on the band of the hat, the hemming of the outfit and the inside of the coat.

Their powers are directly inspired by their abilities.

Ramuda: A fairy that appears to be a calico cat. Accent colour: Light orange. Has an extra strap on the back of his coat which hangs loose, suggesting a tail. Uses illusions. Can assume a catboy form.

Gentaro: Accent colour: Purple. Copies powers.

Dice: Accent colour: Olive green. Summons slot machines that cause random effects. A secret prince of the mascot world, with his mascot form being a shabby black cat. Can also assume a catboy form. I have no idea if Otome in this AU is also from the mascot world, though...

MTR:

Jakurai wears an outfit which has the demon king cape and suit from HypMic Quest with no horns or spikes, while Hifumi and Doppo get their outfits almost directly from HypMic Quest.

Jakurai uses the cross closest to his neck to transform, while Hifumi uses the red pendant and Doppo his cross-shaped tie pin.

Jakurai: A fairy that appears to be a grey wolf. TDD gained their name after Ramuda tried to insult him and the name stuck. Summons people to aid him in his fights (typically he'll summon Yotsutsuji to help him analyse/be moral support and he'll fight for himself). Cannot summon the dead, although he can summon the comatose as if they were still alive.

Hifumi: Summons animals (typically wears thick leather gloves in his transformed state to summon a falcon or other predatory bird).

Doppo: Summons objects (typically staves and potions, but also medical tools for Jakurai and gloves for Hifumi). Cannot summon the weapons the others can summon at the cost of being able to summon everything else, hence his choice of items.

Like in regular canon, there used to be MCD, Naughty Busters and Kuujaku Posse. Before TDD went on to fight for Chuohku, Sasara and Kuko had an argument with Samatoki and Ichiro respectively and were horrified when they found out what TDD were doing, so once they found the former TDD were fighting for themselves this time, they joined in.

DH:

They wear cyberpunk-inspired outfits - the base outfit is a form-fitting silver body suit which only exposes the hands, head and feet, but also black combat boots that go to the knees and a black belt tilted to one side. Sasara's has a leather jacket similar to TDD Samatoki's and visor (the glasses kind) in his accent colour, Rosho's has a combat vest and fingerless gloves and Rei's has a beige trenchcoat which, in his typical way, he wears over his shoulders. Rei also has a metallic cybernetic chestplate with patterns that ripple across it as he uses his magic, as well as a sniper's monocle (worn over his left eye) he uses to hide his heterochromia.

Similarly to FP's, the buttons and shoes of their outfits are highlighted by an accent colour which differs from user to user. The highlights glow faintly in the dark.

They transform using their fan-shaped pins, except Rei who uses that necklace of his.

Sasara: A fairy that appears to be a kitsune. Has psychic powers and has multiple straps coming off the back and sleeves of his jacket to resemble kitsune tails. Accent colour: Pink.

Rosho: Uses the fighting-type powers from the pseudo-Pokemon AU. Accent colour: Dark purple.

Rei: A fairy that resembles a phoenix. Controls light. Accent colour: Orange.

[Bonus: If DH had BAT's powers, Sasara would summon energy arrows and carry a bow + quiver to use them with, Rosho would summon the light-up jitte from Akudama Drive and Rei would summon ray guns (as a pun on his name).]

BAT:

They wear steampunk-inspired outfits. Kuko transforms using his prayer beads, Jyushi with his choker and Hitoya with his lightning-shaped pin.

Kuko: A fairy which appears to be an Eastern dragon. His transformation outfit is an eccentric inventor's/mechanic's, similar to Impey Barbicane from Code: Realise (i.e. it has tawny overalls, goggles, black knee-length boots and a white singlet). Also has gloves which have decorations at the fingertips that resemble dragon claws (similar to demon king Jakurai's). Summons swords, typically larger swords like katana or tachi.

Jyushi: Has the most Victorian-inspired outfit, with a red cravat, brown suit with a cog design on the right leg/lapel and a swallowtail jacket. Summons shields.

Hitoya: Has an aviator's outfit, but with no hat or goggles - just the leather jacket/shirt/trousers/boots. Summons steampunk-style guns.

(...yep, now that I've written it out, I think most of it works.)

#hypnosis mic #alternate universe #HypMic

4 notes · View notes

tolkien-in-beleriand · 4 years

Text

The Chronicles of Iniamar - Chapter One

Demetria was a normal village girl, except that no one is really normal. Not anywhere and certainly not in the Buruma village. Nevertheless she did not astound more than anyone would astound just for being. She was happy, funny, full of friends, intelligent and hardworking and of course, full of opinions. The problem with opinionated people is that they almost always are convinced that they are right and forget that other people may have opinions of their own and that they too believe to be right. Haryn was another one full of opinions and Demi never liked Haryn. She found him muzzy, dull, rude, and obviously too cocky, thinking that his opinions were always the truth. But he almost never spoke and when he did it was to swear and give orders and although he was not her boss, she had to comply because she worked in Josh’s tavern and if anyone asked her for a black lapo it was her job to serve. And Haryn was always asking for a pint of something. Once she saw him chug a hornmud of pure alcolino. Maybe if he was sober for long enough he would be aware of how repugnant he was, so he prefered to be always drunk, she thought. Either way Josh liked him – even though none could understanding why – and said that he was an excellent warrior and a very wise man. Demi thought that Josh was beginning to lost his wit because of old age.

Josh was her adoptive father. Due to an accident, that each time that was told had a different nature, she had lost her parents as a baby and Josh welcomed and nourished her. She helped in the tavern since her 14th birthday, before that he never allowed her to work. He said she had to nurture her mind. So he taught her how to read, write and think, although he always said that one can not teach another to think, but could offer him the tools to do so. Some days he would tell Demi that she thought too much but she always could see behind the angry words the satisfaction in his eyes.

The love that Josh devoted to reading was only surpassed by his pupil and even though scrolls were quite rare in the village – regarded as a relic found only with merchants that passed through or in the houses of the most wealthy individuals – Josh always managed to get their hands in some new manuscript with wonderful stories about fey beings and men of the blood of dragons. These were her favourite stories but she read them all including the most boring ones, like those that explained the position of the main villages and castles. Josh said it was always good to know where things are, both to look for it or to avoid it. “No one wants to be face to face with a dragon by chance, eh?” Well, she would not mind. She always wanted to be friends with a dragon.

Her friends in the village always complained of their parents at some point and sometimes even though it could sound indifferent and wicked, Demi felt lucky that her parents died, because that led her to be raised by Josh. He was amazing, intelligent and has always been good to her. He never even mentioned the subject of marriage, for which she was very grateful, and whenever she saw those dark eyes in that kind and thick bearded face she could not help but smile and feel a sense of security. Haryn used to say that it was because she was stupid, since no one is never safe, but she do not pay attention to his pessimism and bad humor. He annoyed her in all possible ways, and yet, she knew that she could always rely on him and that he would never hurt her. Not because he liked her, no! But because of his friendship with Josh that probably compelled him to protect what he called “fire-haired brat”. Once Moren spilled a black lapo mug on Demi dress, smearing it all, and before she could recover from the surprise and accept the apology from the baker, Haryn was already going up against him. Poor Moren did not show up at the tavern for one week and only came back after she reassured him that she was not in any way angry and that Haryn would not bother him anymore.

I do not know if it was because of his angry “friend” or because of the sympathy for Josh, but everyone always treated Demi with great kindness and respect. She always thought they were luck to live in a quiet village like Buruma as she had heard uncanny stories from others neighboring villages. She had many friends there, but her two inseparable companions were Artur and Bernardo. Artur rarely entered the tavern because he was too big and as the establishment was always packed he could not fit in there if he wanted. Artie worked with the blacksmith, pulling his big gear, but at the end of his shift he always passed by the back door of the tavern and Demi always took a little break to talk to him. In their day offs they often get together, the three of them.

Bernardo, as Demi, worked in the tavern and managed to serve customers quite well now, even though he was very clumsy in his first days of work, because he was unable to hold the trays with his big paws. However now he was the most skilled bear to serve tables in the area. Artur wanted a job in the tavern too, but the experience did not go well. At the end of the day he had broken two tables and had kicked a merchant who had hit his hips to request another lapo pint. When Josh told him that unfortunately he could not work there, he said: “Good! You could break a leg in this tiny place”. The tavern was not so small, but Artur was the biggest horse that anyone there had ever seen. To climb the stairs to go to the house on the top floor was not an option to him either.

Bernardo was also as big as a brown bear could be, but he was skillful enough to not let his size get in the way and everybody adored him because he was an inexhaustible source of stories and anecdotes.

When the merchants come to the village, Josh closes the tavern for a whole week, since there is always all kinds of drinks in the fair’s pavilion and then Artur, Bernardo and Demi have all the freedom and money they could want.

In the second week Josh’s tavern would reopen, since the merchants loved its lapo, both black and gold, and usually in that week they profited enough for a whole year. The merchants use to be generous with their money when it came to a good drink.

The merchants passed by once every six months and stayed for two weeks in the village. There were two parties to celebrate what they called Fiftday. The opening ceremony, which took place on the day they arrived, and the closing ceremony, held on the day before they left. Anyway to Demi and her friends every day were party day and they enjoyed every day of the Fiftday. The next one would be in five weeks and they were all excited. Artur wanted a golden cloak to wear at the opening party and Demi was trying to convince him that a golden cloak would not suit his reddish and bright fur but he did not want to hear any of that and she certainly would not give up.

Bernardo was thinking to wear a black leather vest with white fringes and Demi thought it would suit him very well. Demi would wear her white dress with red branches on the hem and on the tip off the long sleeves, with a thin red dragon leather belt as she would not want to be too much. Her hair would be braided with white leather straps because she always thought the white fall right in the middle of all the redness of her hair. She would be pretty for sure.

Demi heard that there would be more than two minstrels this time, which made her even more anxious. The minstrels were her favourite attraction, along with the storytellers. In her secret dreams she always imagined herself married to one of the kingdom’s poetic singers but she never told this to anyone. That is because they would laugh at her and she hated that. However her more urgent concern until the Fiftnight was to change Artie’s mind about the color of his cloak as she needed to sew it soon. She actually thought that she had found a way to convince him.

The day when she would put her plan into action had come. Josh was staring at her with droll and inquisitive eyes. He knew that she hated golden because the contrast with her bright red hair made her look like some kind of what she called tainted flame. And when he asked her what was a tainted flame she simply answered “It doesn’t matter what it is, what is important is that it is what I see in the brass when I wear golden outfits”. In that day she hoped the sunshine outside would accentuate the absurdity of that combination.

– Demi!

It was Artie’s voice at the window.

– Artie! You came earlier today?

– No. What dress is that?

– It is a gift from last year’s birthday.

– I have never seen it. You are marvelous wearing it ant that is precisely the golden that I want for my cloak.

– What? Are you blind? This dress is not anything good on me because red does not suit golden!

– That is what you say. To me that is perfect, like hay and water. It is a matter of taste.

– Taste! No! Unless you want to seem ridiculous.

– I do not care about your opinion on this.

– Please, Artie. I am saying this for your sake.

– But I want a golden cloak. I have already bought the fabric. There is no turning back.

– Ok. I will make you a golden cloak, but not for the party, alright?

– Why not for the party?

– Because I want all of us wearing white.

– Bernie will not wear white.

– His vest has white fringes.

Artie was pensive.

– But I do not have white fabric and I do not want to spend more money with that.

– I’ll buy it for you.

– And you swear that I will have my golden cloak too?

– Yes, I promise.

– Can I wear it in the closure party?

– We will see.

– Alright, then. White it is.

– Thank you, Artie. You are the best. I have to go back now. See you tomorrow.

– Go, ungrateful brat. Preventing me from wearing what I want just because you do not like gold. I like, gee.

She could still hear Artie muttering as she walked away, but it didn’t matter anymore. He would not wear the golden cloak and she would not be in that hideous dress another second.

Demi’s time in the coming weeks was divided between bartending in the tavern, sewing outfits for her friends and reading a particularly annoying parchment about all the mountains north of the Great Fountain. However always she noticed that Josh was not watching she would change her lecture to a scroll about the story of the first men of the dragon blood. The fact that she never really knew if it had truly happened or were just stories made her even more fascinated. But how could it have happened? Is it possible that the dragons would submit to an agreement with men? And why should they? The scroll said to be by necessity, although it did not explain of what kind, but she read others parchments that affirmed that a man threatened the dragons. However, Demi could not believe that any threat could frighten all the dragons, especially the Great Ulmur.

With her mind busy with all these questions, Demi did not realize that she was murmuring and that Josh had come near her so she almost fell off her chair when he said:

– Ulmur could be tall and strong, but I doubt he was a mountain.

– Josh! Are you trying to scare me to death?

– No, but it will hurt you to finish the parchment about the mountains first? It is not so bad.

– But it’s so boring and useless.

– I do not doubt that learning about Ulmur’s secret thoughts is useful, but it is much more likely, lets say, that you have to face the northern mountains than Ulmur and his kin.

– Not necessarily. If anything steer me north, who could guarantee I would not find Ulmur?

– I do.

– And how could you be so sure?

– Because Ulmur is dead!

– Is he though?

– What do you mean? Of course he is!

From the tavern they could hear the sound of a mug breaking and Bernie’s growl.

– Go, leave this and go to work. You have read too much for today. Poor Bernie must be overwrought.

Without wasting any more seconds she went downstairs. She liked her work and enjoyed herself in the tavern and, as she could not read about the men of the dragon blood, she preferred Haryn’s ugly face to the northern mountains’ parchment.

When she arrived downstairs Bernie had already removed the pieces of the broken mug, but he still had an angry face.

– What happened, Bernie?

– How would I know? I was serving a table and suddenly a mug broke on the counter for no reason whatsoever.

– It was the wind – said Haryn.

– It was no fucking wind, because there is no wind! - Said Bernie angry.

– Maybe it was you, Harryn.

– Maybe, but you will never know, will you, brat?

Turning her back to Haryn, Demi tried to calm down her friend:

– There is no problem, Bernie, it was just a mug. Let it be.

– I just do not like this kind of thing. It has to have an explanation, things do not break without a reason. I do not like this, not at all.

– Me too, Bernie, but to get upset will not help it.

Still grumbling Bernie went to serve some tables while Demi was in the counter. She hated to be responsible for the counter because it was were Haryn always was. But she had no choice since Josh was upstairs and only would be back later.

Even if he annoyed her, Demi never ceased to be curious about Haryn. What would he have done to win Josh’s trust? How could he be a wise and a warrior if the only thing he does is drink in the tavern? Although, he usually disappears for a few days from time to time, even though there was no war going on, nothing to fight, nowhere to be a warrior. How old was he? Demi had no idea about any of this and despite hating the way he despised her and the rude way he answered her questions, she never gave up trying to figure out whatever she could about him. She would not ask him any direct question about that though. Demi thought she would have more chance of success if she disguised her interests, so she decided to ask him about the men of dragon blood, so perhaps she could get some information about it too.

– Hey, Haryn! What do you know about the men of dragon blood?

He always looked at her like someone who wanted to kill her just for daring to open her mouth before answering.

– That they do not exist anymore.

He always answered though, even if it was a stupid answer.

– Everybody knows that. But you should know something about when they were alive. Josh says you are so wise.

It seemed that this time he would not answer, but after spending a good few minutes contemplating Demi he started to talk:

“The men of dragon blood were a very powerful kin, which does not exist anymore for over 300 years, more or less. Millenia ago, they mingled their blood with dragons blood through an agreement never revealed and a secret ritual. Shaian and Ulmur were representatives of the two races that started the union, which had to be renewed every thousand years, because the power of the dragon’s blood weakened with time in the dirty blood of men. Something went wrong in the Last Renovation and the human representative of the ritual was murdered. No one knows the name of that human, as though it was the reign of King Tomus, he was found dead in his castle and lore said that the body found was a woman. It is supposed to be his queen, but no one was ever really interested in this matter.

Haryn paused to take a sip of his hornmug and Demi asked more questions.

– But who would want to murder the men of dragon blood? And why? Who could want that? And the dragons, what they did?

– They did nothing, what would they do? There was nothing to be done. The dragons hid in fear of being murdered and waited to see what this creature would do. However nothing has been done and nothing happened. Then the reign needed a new king and a scribe loyal to Tomus took over as king. He was the only survivor with acceptable knowledge to rule. With the shock of seeing the entire royal family assassinated there were no objections to that. Thus began a new royal line. Not nearly as noble as the previous one and with only one-tenth of the longevity of those dragon’s blood, but it is what we have got.

– But who? Who would be willing and able to kill all the line? And why?

– Pshaw! No one knows that, brat! When Auri, the Scribe, took the kingdom he said he would be watching, but luckily for him nothing happened until his death. I would like to see what Auri feather hand would do against Tomus’ killer. Ha! I really wanted to see! Many people has gone missing since all this happened, although nothing that deserved much attention. Some people argue that that evil creature is still amongst us and up to something, but if that is true or not I do not know and frankly do not care.

– Do not care or is afraid? – Demi said mischievously.

His eyes flashed dangerously towards her and this time he did not answer. None of what he had told was big news for Demi, however she needed to beat around the bush to ask what she really wanted to know.

– Wow, how do you know all this? Did you read?

– I have read.

– When you were young?

– When I could.

– How old are you?

– Older than you – said Haryn getting up and leaving. At the door he shouted: – Tell Josh to meet me at the village’s entrance in an hour, would you?

– He is busy, I do not know if he can make it.

– Just give him the message!

– Hey, wait! Just one more question!

He stopped impatiently.

– Yes?

– Why the dragons did not make a new agreement with Auri?

Haryn stared at her for a good while before he said:

– Because they did not like his hair colour – and left slamming the door.

This is chapter 1 of one of my books (continue under read more) and I’m putting it on here in the hopes that someone will read and give me some feedback.

Also you all know about my financial problems so if you can share this with my Patreon link I would really appreciate. There are some public stuff on there so if you have the time please have a look and consider helping.

SUPPORT MY PATREON

CHAPTER 4 (Patrons only)

The weeks before Fitftday passed quickly to Demi with all the sewing she needed to do, all the trouble convincing Artie to not wear the golden cloak in the closure party and her working in the tavern. She did not see the time passing. The fact Haryn was absent also helped that because without his scowl around the environment became much more pleasant in Demi’s opinion. Two days before the Fiftday at the end of her shift Moren told that at least two storytellers would narrate the story of the Last Renewal and finally reveal the secret ritual of the dragons. Every Fiftday at least five storytellers and even some minstrels show up clamming to reveal the dragon’s secret ritual and everyone goes to hear, including Josh and Haryn. Every year Demi always choose her favourite version and then hit the scrolls trying to confirm its veracity, but this never resulted in any discovery and so Haryn would always call here a moron for even thinking about believing all that bullshit. Her favourite version was the one told last year: the dragon swallowed the representative of men and then spit him in a burst of fire. Demi was anxious to see what crazy story they would invent this time.

In the next day Josh dismissed her from work to finish Bernie’s and Artie’s outfits in time. Bernie’s had to climb the stair at least two times to prove his vest, until he was completely satisfied. As always, he thanked Demi with a big hug and a touch on her nose with his snout. She loved it. Now Artie was not so easy. As he could not go up and Lot, the blacksmith, did not allow him to go to the tavern during working hours, Demi had to take his cloak to him. Fortunately the cloak was perfect and she did not have to go all the way again. Like her dress, Artie’s cloak was white with red and black branches on the fringes.

– How did you like it, Artie?

– Wow! Oh mine! Wow! – Was all that Artie could say as he turned to all sides and tried a quick trot to see how the cover would be at the wind.

– I’m happy you liked it. See, now you have this lovely cloak, the cream-colored one to the closure and the golden outfit to wear whenever you want.

– My golden cloak is already done?

– No, not yet. I prioritized tomorrow’s outfits, but it is almost done.

– Can I stop by to see it latter?

– Sure, Artie. Now let me take the cloak back home. I still have to make some adjustments at the clothes to the closure party and Lot is already trowing a sulk, look.

– Sure… see you later. – said Artie as he approached Demi, who took his cloak and went back home prancing. In the distance you could already see the large pavilion, almost ready for the merchants. Demi could not imagine greater happiness than the one she was feeling at the moment.

On the night that preceded the start of Fiftday the tavern had always a smaller movement and at eight o’clock Josh had already closed the doors and left to help in the final preparations of the pavilion. Demi, Artie e Bernie gathered in the shed at the bottom of the tavern which, for the next two weeks would be Artie’s and Bernie’s house. All Fiftday they did that, it was easier that way. Demi, after making sure that the outfits were impeccable, went down to arrange the last details with her friends. As she was leaving for the side door she collided with a large and strong figure. Before she could scream he clapped her mouth and said:

– No screaming.

It was Haryn. Stupid and muffler Haryn. Demi’s heart was racing and beyond scared she was very, very angry.

– Are you crazy? How could you think you could do this, you moron?

– Do what, exactly? Open and close doors and pass by it? I think so.

– You damn-ass! You almost scared me to death!

– Seriously? I thought you were brave and were not afraid of anything. – He said in a mocking voice.

– You are a jerk, a fucking jerk! And I will tell Josh about this.

– Uh! Now I am scared. Where is he? I need to talk to him.

Demi thought about not answering, to turn her back and pretend he did not exist, but she knew that if she did that Josh would be disappointed. So she took a deep breath and reply:

– He is in the pavilion.

Haryn turned around and left, without a word, and she still shaken by the scare yelled:

– Why did you come back, huh? Nobody misses you. You should never return.

He stopped, gave that hideous grin, and replied:

– Missed you, brat. – And he kept walking.

Demi could not believe the audacity of that hateful man. She would talk to Josh. At least he would have to tell her why she had to tolerate Haryn. He owe me at least that. Her blood was yet boiling with fury, so it took some while before she left and went to the shed to meet her friends.

The Fiftday finally arrived. Demi woke up anxious and happy and chose a light dress for the day, it was hot. Josh had already left, so she ran to wake up Artie and Bernie, but both were already up and cheerful.

– It is so damn hot! I will not wear clothes during the day so my party outfit will stand out even more at night. – said Bernie.

– So cocky, Bernie.

– Gee! I can use my golden cloak, can I, Demi?

– No, Artie. It is warm and in this sun you will blind people with that thing.

– I do not understand all this nagging about my cape.

– I am not nagging, I only think that it does not suit you.

– After the Fiftday I will wear it every day just to taunt you.

– I know.

– If you have already finished to pick on each other, can we go?

– Sure!

When the three friends arrived at the pavilion the stone clock on the center had not marked ten am yet, but there were many people and more coming. Many merchants have had their tents set up and many more would come.

Bernie was already standing on the front of a honey tent and Demi and Artie knew he would spend quite some time there.

Come on, Artie, let’s take a look in those fabrics, if Bernie need some money he will find us.

And so they spent the morning. They lunched in the food tents because it was the only chance they had to eat typical food from distant places. There were fruits only found in the north and there were strange meats. But all of it was delicious.

In the afternoon they continued their reckoning of the tents and its spices and other goods. One of those had a collection of stones of different colors and sizes. Sure there were sapphires and emeralds, but also stones that were not jewels, which were used only to decorate the house and Demi loved those.

One was a lot like Demi’s red hair and Bernie was blown away with the resemblance.

– Demi, you must buy this one – it is so you. If you do not buy it, I will buy it for you.

Demi was staring at the stone and seemed not to hear Bernie. It didn’t even look like a stone, it was like a very thick piece of red glass, very red.

– Where does this stone come from? – Asked Demi.

– It comes from one of the high mountains of the dragons, girl. My husband found it in one of his trips and when asked by a traveler he swore it was from the dragon’s mountains. He swore, girl.

– All right, never mind, it was just curiosity. I will take it.

– Very good, very good. Anything else?

– Yes, I will take these black and blue stones that are similar too.

– Very good, very very good, child. It is three coins.

When they moved away from the tent, the woman was looking at the three friends with eyes full of curiosity, but none of them noticed that, because they were jabbering about what they shopped in their day of festivity.

– Well, looks like it is time to take our acquisitions home and prepare for the opening party. – Demi said.

– Already?

Demi laughed. – Artie, we still have fourteen days of Fiftday, you will have time enough.

– I know, but the first day is the best it is so cool.

– Yet the party is coolest. Lets go, I have to wash my hair.

It was past four o’clock when they reached the tavern and found Josh and Haryn talking quietly. Demi hugged Josh and pretended not to see Haryn, who was with his mocking smile as usual.

– How was the first day? Did you bought anything? – Josh asked.

– Just some little things. Everyone knows the merchants keep the best for the end.

– True.

– Well, I will help Artie to take a shower and then I have to wash my hair.

– Sure have, it does not even look like red anymore, but brown because it is so dirty. – Haryn said, with a smile.

Demi did not reply, just gave him a stare that would have paralyzed a dragon and for a moment she thought she saw his smile break and a glimpse of fear in his eyes, but that was only an impression. Josh was quiet, he only nodded his head to the stubbornness of those two.

After helping Artie – and even Bernie – to get clean and fragrant, Demi went upstairs to take her bath. She was supposed to meet them at seven. Aisni, a village girl that was friends with Demi, would help her with her hair. For the first time she decided to do something with it for the party. Her original plan was to braid it with ribbons, but Aisni suggest something different and Demi loved it.

When the girls went down, Artie and Bernie were already waiting. Artie wearing his white cloak and his shining fur and Bernie with his black and white vest over his clean and brushed brown reddish fur. Haryn and Josh also were ready to go. Josh as usual was pretty well dressed, but with simplicity and Haryn did not seemed to have taken a bath or changed his clothes. Everyone looked when Demi came because she was stunning. Her white dress was made from a drawing she had seen in a history book about the lineage of the men of dragon blood. It was white with red branches on the hem and on the tip of the sleeves, a modest cleavage and long and wide sleeves from the elbow. Her hair looked like waves of red with thin white ribbons.

Demi was elate with the way Artie e Bernie looked at her and Josh was delighted with his child. So much that you could see a tear wanting to jump out of his eyes, but what dazed her the most was the look she saw in Haryn’s eyes. She did not know what that was, but for the first time she felt he was not mocking her. This lasted only a few seconds, because Haryn turned on and walked out.

– My daughter, you are beautiful!

– Really, Demi, you look like a princess. – Bernie said. – And you too, Aisni, are very pretty.

The girls laughed. Aisni have a golden hair that fell in well-defined curls until up half of her back and wore a blue dress that look like the sky. She tied her hair half-up half-down with a ribbon that matched her dress.

– Thank you! But you are only saying that because you are my friends. Aisni is really lovely.

– Well, Demi, right back at you! There is no problem. We are all very beautiful and we are going to the party!

Everyone nodded excited and left. Haryn was not at sight, but when they approached the central tent, where the party would take place, Josh pulled back and found him near one of the large trunks that supported the tent. Demi looked at Haryn, still not understanding what had happened just before, and yet she felt even more uncomfortable, even though he had not even cast a glance in her direction since. Anyway it was a party day and she did not want to spoil things thinking in that unpleasant man.

Many people were already coming to the celebration, all well dressed. The opening and closing parties of Fiftday were the only ones that took place in the village, so almost everyone were there, even the sick made an effort to be there.

The group of friends hang out near a tent that sell mead and everyone bought a cup. While they were drinking, laughing and chatting the band began to play; soon after Ethan invited Demi to dance and so she went. Then Bunn appeared and asked Aisni to dance while Artie and Bernie were squirming in their seats and calling that dance.

– Wow, Demi, you are so beautiful! – said Ethan.

– Thank you, Ethan. – she replied, blushing. She liked Ethan and knew he liked her, but she was too shy to admit it to him or to anyone else, including herself. Either way she was glad to know that he liked the way she was.

Demi danced three songs with Ethan and then got back to her friends. Aisni was there too and the girls were all secrets and giggles.

– What the hell do you whisper so much? It sure must be very very funny.

– Actually, Artie, we are talking about very serious stuff.

– Sure, like we do not know you are talking about boys.

– We are not! No way! – said Demi, blushing. She did not want that her friends thought she was a silly girl who wanted a boyfriend.

– It is alright, Demi. – Bernie said. – It is normal that you will want to talk about boys.

– But I am not! – She said even more embarrassed.

– Then lets not talk about that anymore! – Bernie said. But he and Artie were still having a blast with it, because they knew how Demi was angry about these subjects.

– Artie and I will take a walk, be back soon.

After they left, Aisni asked her:

– Why didn’t you tell them?

– I do not like to talk with them about that. They would not understand.

– Of course they would, Demi. Admit it, you are ashamed.

– No way! It’s just it’s not their business.

Aisni knew Demi very well so she knew that she would never admit it, but it was funny to see how blushed she was because people knew exactly what she wanted to hide.

– Come on, Aisni, let’s take a walk too.

They started to circulate among people. However they did not saw any signal of Artie and Bernie or even Josh, but Haryn was yet in the same spot, talking with an outsider, probably a merchant. He seemed unconcerned and almost happy. Demi had never seen him like that. She kept watching him for a while until Haryn turned around and looked at her and the contempt was again in those eyes. Demi pretended not to care and kept walking, looking at the other side.

Short after that Ethan showed up asking to speak to Demi. Aisni encouraged her to go and left. Ethan gave Demi a red flower that made her turn the same color.

– That is lovely.

– That is for you to remember me when you are at home.

– I do. – she said hastily and immediately regretted. – I remember all my friends. – she complemented awkwardly

– I know – he said and he was smiling – Demi, you know I like you, right?

She did, but she would not tell him that. In fact she did not know what to say. She opened her mouth and closed it again, she looked away and saw that Bunn was also talking to Aisni, who was smiling. Did all Buruma kids decided to profess their love today? When Demi looked again to Ethan he was much more closer and before she realized it he was kissing her.

It was a quick kiss, but it felt like an eternity to Demi. It was her first kiss; she had been kissed for the first time and she liked it. She summoned up the courage to look at him. He was smiling and was holding her hands – although she could not remember when it had happened. She smiled back.

Demi had never thought about having a boyfriend, at least not one that was not a great minstrel or storyteller who had traveled the world. Yet now she was there with someone that made her feel different, someone she would not mind to call boyfriend. While all of this was crossing her mind she saw, over Ethan’s shoulder, Haryn looking directly at her. Once more he had that smile that mocked her and Demi instantaneously knew that he had seen it all. She was upset and let Ethan’s hand go.

– Is everything okay?

– Yes, it is nothing. Let’s take a walk?

– Sure.

Demi could see that Ethan was confused, but she needed to walk away from Haryn’s side, so she walked fast and Ethan had to hurry to catch up.

– Did I did something wrong, Demi? If I did, I am sorry.

– No, you did not do anything wrong. – She said still walking fast. When they were far enough from Haryn she stopped. She was very annoyed. Why should Haryn ruin everything? That moment only concerned her, her and Ethan, why he had to be there and spoil everything?

– Demi, what is it?

– Nothing. I was just surprised, that is all. Sorry, Ethan. – She sat on a nearby trunk.

– You do not need to apologize. It is alright if you do not feel the same about me. – He said with a sorrowful voice.

– No. No, it’s not that. Like I told you, I was just surprised. I… I like you too, Ethan. – she murmured and blushed.

– Do you?

– Yes.

He was smiling again. – Can I sit with you then?

– Of course you can.

After a while she had forgotten about Haryn and all. They were there talking for a long time until they realized that the music had stopped, which meant that it was time for the stories. Then they came nearby the stage and Demi said goodbye to Ethan. Just ahead were Aisni, Artie and Bernie.

– Where were you? – questioned Bernie.

– Out there. – Aisni knew she was with Ethan and they looked at each other with a smile. However there was no time for questions because the minstrel was on stage and had strummed his harp.

There were always a musician and a storyteller for which night of the Fifday and, as expected, the minstrel of the opening night would recite a story about the Last Renewal ritual. He said that it was the true story of the ritual which had been told to him by one of the Dragons of the north. All was silent and so he began.

He sang about the threats and wars between men of old and dragons and also about how they had reached an agreement to unite their blood, although he did not explain what the dragons gained with this union. Then he told about the ritual: a macabre dance in which the man would have to mutilate his own body and throw himself in a bonfire burning with dragon’s flames. And when the spirit of the man left his body it would be trapped in a bottle full of dragon’s blood. To renew the covenant, the kingdom’s heir should drink from that bottle. At the Last Renewal, the messenger who brought the bottle was ambushed and killed by an errant group, he said, and that was what went wrong then. This terrible song also said that such misfortune occurred because the one who would participate of the ritual was a woman, not a man.

Demetria looked at Josh and Haryn and both of them were having fun with that rubbish presentation. People applauded, most likely out of pity and not for any other reason. It was the worst version that Demi had ever heard.

– What the hell was that? He completely ignored the fact that Tomus was murdered on the same day, but invented this bullshit about the messenger’s accident. Seriously? A spirit trapped in a bottle of blood? Even the dragon barbecue version is more acceptable.

– I agree. That was the most idiotic version I had ever heard. – said Artie.

– My father tells that when he was a boy he heard of a version that said that a man and a dragon held hands and gave one hundred little hops together. – Aisni said and the four friends roared with laughter and only managed to stop when the storyteller was beginning his tale.

He told about a damsel that had fell in love with an enemy warrior. Demi had listened that story a million times, because everyone liked to tell it. However, for the first time she did not mind listening a love tale. Her heart was touched by the fate of the lovers and she wondered what the hell did Ethan do to her. Either way she was happy.

They said goodbye to Aisni, who went home with her family, and the three friends returned to the tavern. Demi was hoping that Haryn was not there, because she did not want to see him. It was eleven o’clock by the time they got home. Josh was there but not Haryn to Demi’s relief.

– So, how about tonight? Did you like it?

Everyone started talking at the same time. Josh smiled knowing that, as always, they had loved everything. Well almost everything.

– My goodness, what was that version of the ritual?

Josh smiled. – One of the worst I heard, I think. It wasn’t even well plotted.

They remembered the version of the little jumps and everyone started laughing again.

– Sure, I heard that, said Josh. – I remember that the poor minstrel could not finish his song because of the public’s laughter.

– Which was the best version you have ever heard, Josh? – Bernie asked.

He thought for a few minutes before answering:

– I think it was one I heard when I was still very young, and was not living here yet. It was a version that spoke of the invocation of a powerful spirit, but I do not remember it correctly, I should have written it down.

– Sounds a good one – Artie replied and after a moment when they were all pensive, Bernie said:

– Well, I think we should sleep because tomorrow will be a busy day and we still have fourteen versions to listen to.

– Yep, it is true. Goodnight to all and see you tomorrow. We can go a little later tomorrow, right, Demi?

– Sure.

After they left, Demetria remained there and Josh asked her if there was something wrong.

– No, nothing. – answered Demi. She did not like to hide anything from Josh, but she did not want to tell him about Ethan. Not now, maybe another day. Anyway as she was talking with Josh she decided to ask about Haryn.

– Dad, why are you even friends with Haryn?

– This again.

– You never gave me an answer.

– I like him.

– But why? He is ignorant, insensitive and irritating.

– Daughter, Haryn is nothing like that, you just do not know him very well.

– Of course I do! I have known him since I can remember.

– Not the same Haryn that I know. And that is enough of that! I know my words will not convince you of anything but I guarantee that one day you will change your mind about him.

– That won’t happen.

– I know that you think that. Good night, Demetria.

– Goodnight.

Demi was pissed again. Her father would never tell her nothing about Haryn and that was annoying. She could not understand that. Haryn was probably fooling her poor dad. Either way, as she was climbing to her room, her mind flew to Ethan and more pleasant thoughts and she remembered how good it was to have someone who liked her. It was a good feeling that drove her to sleep, despite Haryn.

When Demetria woke up she was startled. She had dreamed about the story told the night before: but in her dream she was the damsel and Haryn was the warrior. She was mad at herself for dreaming such a silly thing and was convinced that this nonsense was motivated by Josh’s words. She tried to forget that stupid dream but she could not, especially when she went dawn for coffee and found Haryn talking to Josh.

– Good morning, little brat! Are you alright?

The mocking tone of his voice was even bigger today. Demi did not answer. She walked through the tavern giving up her coffee and going to meet her friends. But they were not there.

– Where are Artie and Bernie?

– They have already gone. I was going to tell you but you passed like a rain. They asked to warn you that since you were taking too long to wake up they were going to wait for you in the pavilion.

– In the pavilion? But it was their idea to sleep until later!

– Demetria, it is almost two o’clock in the afternoon.

Demetria froze. She could not believe that she slept so much, particularly because it was such a poor quality of sleep as it produced such an unpleasant dream.

– It seems like so many kisses last night stunned you, eh, brat. – Haryn said clearly amusing himself.

Demetria was about to kill him. What right he think he had to discuss her life like that?

– Fuck off, Haryn! – She said slamming the door.

– Why did you tease her so much?

– It is fun.

– She hates you.

– I know. And she must be hating me even more right now. – Haryn said with a sorrowful look.

– Probably. And if I did not know you I would say that is exactly what you want.

Haryn looked at him but did not reply.

Demi left the tavern and began to cry. How such horrible man could exist? How could he ruin everything? She sat on a log and cried out all her anger. When she raised her eyes Artie and Bernie were there.

– How long have you been there?

– Since you left the tavern. What happened, Demi? – Bernie asked sitting down next to her. Artie was just in front of her.

Demi realized that if she was going to tell they about what had just happened she would have to tell about the previous night and she did not know if she wanted that. However as Aisni had said they were her friends and they had the right to know.

– Ethan kissed me yesterday.

– We know.

– How?

– We saw it.

– Did you? But… oh, okay. So, Haryn saw it too. And you know how horrible he is. He just told Josh about it.

– But… you think Josh would not be fine with that?

– It is not that! He has no right to talk about my life. He is a detestable and disgusting man and I hate him, hate!

– Calm down, Demi. He likes to tease you. If you did not pay attention to him he will stop, you will see.

– But I can’t!

– Well, you have to try, right? After all Josh likes him and Haryn will still be around for some time.

– And how could you know that? Demi asked, annoyed. – He could die tomorrow or today!

– If that is what you want to believe, fine.

Demi was pissed off with her friends now. They should take her side and agree with her and insult Haryn with her, but no. They preferred to try do get her to forget and let it go. She stood up wiping her eyes and left without saying a word. Both of them followed her and they knew that she would be in a bad mood all day long.

After they have silently walked for a while, Aisni showed up and Artie and Bernie decided to take a walk to leave the girls alone. Demi told Aisni what had happened and she emphatically agreed with Demi who felt a little better. After that the conversation returned to the adventures of the previous night. Aisni told Demi that Bunn had asked her to be his girlfriend and that she had accepted. Demi was very happy about that and then she told Aisni about Ethan. Aisni was sure that he would ask Demi too.

– Will you accept?

Demi thought about how well she felt about him and the change that she had felt last night before answering.

– Yes, I think so.

The two friends walked until they found an agglomerate of people gathered around Bernie. He was telling one of his stories: the one of a great magician that had grown tired of his spells and decided to live in the mountains with giant birds. Demi knew the story, even so she stopped to listen, because Bernardo’s voice was somehow magical and could charm anyone, even those who already have listened to him before. All those people around Bernie were looking at him with great admiration and no one could hear a single sound but his voice.

When he finished everyone applauded and asked for more stories, but he said that that was enough for a day. Demi approached him to apologize for her previous behavior but before she could say anything he said:

– No need to apologize.

She stopped and looked at him curiously. He started to laugh and opened his arms.

– You stubborn girl!

She ran to hug him. – You silly bear!

Aisni and Artie were talking excitetedly as they got close to Demi and Bernie. Demi turned to try to apologize to Artie but he also rapidly said that there was no need.

– What is the matter with you two?

– Simple! We just know you too well.

– Apparently more that you should have.

– Oh you have no idea!

Everyone laughed.

The afternoon casted its last lights but tonight no one would go home. The night fell and the lamps began to be lit and the stars were already shining in the sky. It was however a moonless night. Ethan and Bunn arrived and Artie e Bernie gave then some alone time with the girls.

That night Demi did not care if anyone would see her holding hands with Ethan. Josh already knew, her friends knew too and that was what mattered. As Aisni had foreseen, Ethan asked Demi to be his girlfriend that night and she said yes. That night they did not hear the ritual version or some story. Not that night or any other of that week.

In the next week, Josh would open the tavern but as always he dismissed Demi and Bernie of any work. Yet when was time for the stories he was always there. It was his greatest pleasure to hear the absurd versions of the last ritual. Demi suspected that he kept a record of all the versions he heard after having forgotten his favourite.

On the first night of the second week, even Demi and Ethan went to hear the stories, as it was in the last week that the best singers performed. On the second night, the minstrel chanted a song about an ancient war and everyone was keen to hear the story as they knew it would be about the Last Renovation. Until that moment of the Fiftday there had not been stories about that, only songs so the expectations were great. Even Josh and Haryn looked anxious and exchanged some meaningful looks.

When the narrator took the stage there was absolute silence and Bernardo let out a low roar.

– What is the matter, Bernie?

– I do not know, but there is something about this guy.

The minstrel had black hair and black eyes but was pale as the moon. He was wearing plain blue clothes and Demi could not see anything that stood up in him but she believed in her friend and immediately disliked him because bear’s eyes were more argute than human’s.

When he started to talk his voice was like a mesmerizing song and no one could look away or stop listening:

A long time ago there was a very wise and powerful being and he walked freely through the mountains and forests of our world. He served no one and was a friend to all and for that reason his soul was ashed to see two of his favorite peoples at war: men and dragons. Being so wise he decided to propose an agreement between both, an alliance. They would bound themselves through blood and thus they would never make war against each other again. With this blood alliance men’s life would be longer, they would be more beautiful and powerful and would also have access to the knowledge of the nature and the world that only the dragons possessed. On the other hand, the dragons would gain all the knowledge acquired by men through the reading of scrolls for years and years and the wisdom that came from such knowledge, they would also gain the potential to have sentiments, to love, and the capacity to think rationally. The dragons were not entirely convinced that the alliance was worth it but Ulmur, the Great, persuaded them that above all they would have peace. The price of the alliance however was high. Both Ulmur and Shaian, the high king of man, would have to sacrifice themselves to make the union possible. No one ever knew how this wiseman convinced them to agree to it but the sacrifice was made and the union between races was done. About this initial ritual I can tell you nothing but it must be symbolically renewed every thousand years when the moon appears into the sky crowned by the five stars of life. So, every thousand years, a human and a dragon representative both females will meet each other on the Union Glade where the wiseman would evoke Ulmur’s and Shaian’s spirit with a drop of blood of each of the representatives and some litany in a strange language only known by the wiseman himself. When the spirits show up the human should make a decision: to gestate the child in her womb or put her in a dragon’s egg. If she chose the first option all she had to do was receive the breath of Ulmur and Shaian. But if she pick the second option she would have to sacrifice herself – like Ulmur and Shaian did – to guarantee a secure gestation in a safe dragon egg which would hatch when it was time. Not before nor after. For this reason the chosen female dragon was picked among those who have recently hatched an egg, for she had to bring her last hatched egg to the ritual and was fundamental that it was no part missing in it. When this was the path chosen by the human she would have to kill herself with a specific dagger brought by the wiseman and her blood would have to be collected in the dragon’s egg. Only then Ulmur and Shayan would blow the egg. This option had never been chosen until the Last Renovation. Tomus already knew the danger that was upon his lineage although the source of his knowledge had never been discovered. Some think that the bound with the dragon’s blood was behind this, but we will never know. The fact is that when he had to send his queen to the ritual he already had a plan to save at least one of his lineage. He sent with her a maid that was very much alike his wife and this woman should return as his pregnant queen after choosing the first option. Tomus knew that the ones who wanted to exterminate his line had knowledge about the ritual and he also knew that they would be waiting for his wife to murder her and his heir shortly after having killed him in his castle. But the queen decided to sacrifice herself choosing the second option and placing her child safely in a dragon’s egg. And so was her maid who was sent to death as if she were the queen. That was how at least one descendent of the lineage of dragon’s blood was saved. If the egg has already hatched I can not tell you but I can assure you that you have heard for the first time the true story about the ritual between dragons and men.

No one applauded. People did not even seem to breath. The minstrel bowed and left the stage. Bernie and Artie were silent and exchanged a look, and Demi realized that they were astonished.

– What is it?

– Demi, we need to go home now! – Artie said.

– Why? What is it?

– Nothing, Demi. – Said Bernie calmly. – But like I said there is something off with this guy and this story pissed me off. Can we go home, please?

– But that was the best version I have ever heard. It also looks like that one that Josh forgot. – Demi said looking around for Josh but he was not there. – Where is Josh?

– He had already gone home, can we go?

– Yes, but I need to find Aisni, she will stay at my place tonight.

– You must go with Artie and I will find her and take her home. – Bernie said.

Demi was completely lost but she did not argue because she noted that her friends were on edge and even she, without knowing why, was feeling restless. She was still holding hands with Ethan who did not understand a thing.

– Can I walk you home?

– I think so.

Demi, Artie and Ethan went to the tavern and as they approached they heard voices inside. Artie came inside to let Demi say goodbye to Ethan.

– Well, I guess I have to go. See you tomorrow then.

– See you. – But Ethan did not seem to want to leave.

Demi kissed him on his right cheek then his left and then his lips.

– Until then. Goodnight!

Demi was feeling sad but she did not know why. Maybe it was just her friend’s commotion but she wanted to cry. Before she reached the tavern’s door Bernie showed up with Aisni and they all went in together. Josh and Haryn were murmuring fast and Artie was attentive to their conversation when Demi and the others entered the room. They immediately stopped.

– Demi, I am glad you are here. You must be tired.

– No, I want to know what is going on.

– Not today. It is late and it is no big deal. – Haryn said and gave her a meaningfully look, without mockery and without calling her a brat. Demi knew that she would not hear anything from them that night.

– Okay then. Let’s go to sleep, Aisni.

Aisni was a little bit confused but she had no idea of what was happening so she accompanied her friend up the stairs wishing a goodnight to everyone.

– What are they arguing about?

– Nothing much, it must be to decide if they will open the tavern tomorrow.

– Ah. Today’s version was any good? I did not hear it.

– It was okay. – Demi did not know what to say. She thought that all the fuzz and apprehension were about the story and she did not want to talk about it with Aisni.

– Wow, I am really tired, are you? – said Demi.

– Oh goodness! I am whacked. – Answered Aisni.

Demi gave Aisni the bed and laid down on the straw mattress beside the wall. She was thinking that she would not be able to sleep but she did not remain awake for long. She must have been very tired after all.

In the middle of the night she woke up with Haryn shaking her:

– Demi, wake up! Wake up damn it!

– What is it?

– You have five minutes to get some things. We are going on a trip.

– What do you mean? Who? Where are we going?

– No time for questions right now, hurry up or you will regret it.

– I cannot just leave Aisni here.

Haryn looked at her for a moment and after a curse agreed:

– Alright, wake her up and bring some clothes for her too. Do not forget to get some winter clothes and some food.

Demi did not have time to ask anything else and by Haryn’s tone and the fact that he called her Demi she knew there was no time for stubbornness.

She woke Aisni up and with as few explanations as possible convinced her that they were going to do something unusual and fun and that it was a surprise. She took what she could, according to Haryn’s instructions, and then she went downstairs to warn her friends about it but they were already waiting for her.

– Are you going too?

– Sure. Are you ready?

– I am. I think so...

At that moment, Haryn hurried out and said:

– Let’s go. Josh will meet us later. Come on.

It was still dark and there were many stairs in the sky and there were much time before dawn. Everyone seemed in a hurry, so Demi also hurried, making Aisni keep up.

After walking about twenty minutes they were almost leaving the village. It was then that Demi looked back and saw a very bright light.

– What is that?

No one answered.

– Haryn, what is that? – she yelled.

– Fire.

– We need to go back and warn them, it is spreading and it will get into the houses! – Demi was desperate but no one else seemed to care, other than Aisni, who was terrified now.

– We need to go back now! – Demi yelled, and stood still. Haryn turned around looked into her eyes and said:

– They are all already dead, Demi. There is nothing we can do about it.

#my writing #patreon #writers #book #help

5 notes · View notes