#at first I couldn’t even tell it was Ciel

[kierancaz]

Seeing a cool art but I can’t tell if it’s a joke or legitimate shipping of Sebastian and Ciel

[scribbleseas]

in love & in war, drabble 2: the one where you meet him

Description: Join Ciel, the Earl of Phantomhive, as he embarks on one of the most difficult challenges of his professional life: getting you to fall in love with him in order to become the next chairman of TransAtlantica— your father’s vast shipping empire.

Warnings: None, save for some explicit sexual content down the line! This is just a lighthearded series for fun! Think Bridgerton :)

Author’s Note: I’m sorry for the wait! I dropped this series premiere and academia decided to just become torture from then until basically now! But now I’m a bit more free to get some writing, and hopefully I can get my content consistent again! I’ve missed you all so much. I hope you guys like this drabble! I wrote it in one sitting so I will probably make some edits/additions down the line, you know how it is lol.

Also, if you would like to be put on a taglist for my fics, please comment and I will tag you for each update! Or if you only want to follow specific fics, you can let me know in your comment and I will make individual taglists for each fic :).

Happy Reading,

Dan <3

⇐ PREVIOUS DRABBLE | NEXT DRABBLE ⇒

Y/N Y/L/N

“You filled my entire dance card?” you lamented, feeling your resolve crumble as you scanned over the small piece of cardstock paper’s lineup of 20 names, each aligned with a planned piece from the ensemble: Lord Alexis Cuthbert, Mr. Nigel Crawford, The Honorable Geoffrey Wilson… The list included a plethora of noble lords and heirs to either significant corporations or well-respected aristocratic bloodlines.

“That is in accordance with the terms of the deal, yes,” your mother insisted, simpering at you while Daphne hooked long diamond teardrops in your ears, set in gold to match the thick necklace resting on your chest. “There were many house calls made about this specific inquiry, and they were all qualified young men.” By the tone of her voice, you could tell she felt she was doing you a favor.

But truly, meeting a man during a dance was excruciating. There was no respectable escape if the conversation was painfully dry or offensive. All you could do was pray for the ending measure of the music and make a swift exit.

You sighed, turning your attention back to the list: Mr. Jack Morrison, Lord Clarence Abery, The Honorable George Ackland…

“I understand. Thank you,” you surrendered, knowing fully well that there was no changing this list without disrespecting those on it already. You were fortunate that your parents were giving you the freedom to choose your suitor in the first place. Most of your peers had been betrothed since their birth, promised to a relative or a family friend as one half of a smart match.

Mr. Neil Gayton, Lord George Cuross…

You were the Earl of Richmond and founder of TransAtlantica’s only child. That was two inheritances—even if you couldn’t assume all control. Your positions should have locked you into a smart match from the start, but your parents decided to give you a chance at a love match, too. A chance at finding real love just as they did: through a cultivated list of requirements.

As painful and awkward the prospect was, it certainly wasn’t the worst outcome for a woman in your position.

“Lord Ciel Phantomhive?” your eye caught his name before you could properly descend through the list because you couldn’t believe it was there of all places. You knew the Lord Phantomhive to be incredibly private, skipping most if not all social gatherings and public appearances. The public rumored that he guarded his appearance closely because he was one of Her Majesty’s advisors and private investigators. You were most accustomed to seeing his name in stately cursive at the bottom of correspondences with your father and his associates.

“His butler called on his behalf the other day,” Daphne answered for your mother, smiling apologetically for interjecting. “He said he will be attending the charity ball tonight and wishes to meet you.”

“He is more than qualified and interested,” your mother said, “your father has always liked him.”

“Father likes his business strategy, no one knows him,” you answered, letting the dance card fall from your wrist limply. There was no merit in analyzing the names on it— you knew there was no escaping the evening.

Your mother rolled her eyes, unwilling to engage with your technicalities. “Come now. Our guests are trickling in. We should greet them with your father,” she offered her arm to you. You accepted, allowing her to guide you out of the suite with Daphne in tow. Whenever TransAtlantica co-hosted events at the Langham Hotel, your family rented the penthouse to finish preparations without having to make a commute from the estate.

. . .

CIEL PHANTOMHIVE

Acquiring TransAtlantica is not an option; it is an inevitability. Acquiring TransAtlantica is not an option; it is an inevitability, Ciel Phantomhive reminded himself with every step closer to The Langham Hotel’s grand ballroom, trudging through formalities and tepid greetings in the populated hall leading to it. It was the phrase he used to justify all of this unyielding frustration at each step: listening to Sebastian as he attempted to break down the confounding science of charming a young woman into comprehensible steps, and now, burdening his already-fraught calendar with unnecessary social appearances just to put himself in Lady Y/n’s path.

Unnecessary social appearances such as The British National Society for Aid and to the Sick and Wounded in War’s annual ball in partnership with TransAtlantica—one of many charitable foundations that the shipping company partnered with. TransAtlantica covered the costs of a lavish evening and invited their extensive networks of business moguls and the aristocracy to partake in raffles throughout the formal night. All proceeds went to the medical organization, and all publicity went to the company.

Until this year, Ciel was content with having Sebastian send his regrets to TransAtlantica alongside a hefty donation to maintain goodwill. But now, maintaining goodwill with this corporation and the family behind it would no longer suffice. He needed to make a personal appearance both at the ball and in the middle of Lady Y/n’s dance card. After Y/n cooly rebuffed him after moments of light teasing Sebastian made the appropriate arrangements with one of the maids to put Ciel.

While Ciel was well aware of the stubborn reputation proceeding her, few dared take such a tone with him. And for so little. Defensive, she was! Was it such a crime to be transparent about how it was careless to step onto a street without looking both ways? If Ciel hadn’t saved her at the perfect moment— even if Sebastian orchestrated the timing — she would have been hit!

“Find Lady Y/n when it comes time for your waltz,” Sebastian reminded Ciel as they entered the ballroom, “you are only on her dance card for a single number. The point is that you make a better impression this time.” The bloody butler prodded at Ciel’s lack of romantic finesse— a talent that a sleazy demon might have in surplus. Apparently, approaching her first and taking the time to see himself onto her dance card would prove Ciel’s interest in her.

“And of course, you must remember your apology, sir,” Sebastian’s words were coated in honey, the most obvious tell of his amusement. The prospect of his master having to express his regrets. “You bruised her pride,” he explained.

In response, Ciel sent him a fleeting gaze, heavy with irritation. Exhaustion after hours of coaching and correcting, endless explanations as to why Sebastian insisted that Y/n could never connect with him properly if he failed to acknowledge her grievances.

“I will,” he answered simply, clenching his jaw at the thought of verbalizing anything along the lines of ‘I apologize.’ He never had to apologize for his actions—not ones that were truly malevolent, and certainly not ones that were decently-natured. Although it seemed the exception was for the daughters of incredibly prominent figures whom he needed to charm. So much so that Sebastian had Ciel practice the series of words in front of a mirror.

Acquiring TransAtlantica is not an option; it is an inevitability.

The phrase had Ciel’s shoulders relaxing into proper posture, his tense jaw relaxing with reluctance. He took a gradual inhale in, scanning the room for Lady Y/n. He found her in moments, catching her pale green gown and its gold accents shining in the warm chandelier light. She was engaged in a jubilant exchange with the wife of Selwyn Westley, the owner of a prominent watch company.

“Very good, my Lord,” Sebastian chirped, merely watching Ciel build his resolve. He’d seen the Earl tackle a number of more threatening offenses: vengeful angels, homicidal circus clowns, and corrupt monopolists with less agonizing. “There is absolutely no time to waste,” he added in reference to the rest of TransAtlantica’s suitors (they were longshot candidates, at best) as they readied themselves among their own servants. Several men’s eyes lingered on the small dance card that hung from Lady Y/n’s wrist, looking to secure a spot in the moments before the first dance started.

It was that particular thought that had the corner of Ciel’s mouth twisting upwards, satisfied. Courtship could never be left to chance. It was a strategy— a war. How could they hope to defeat him when they couldn’t even manage to get themselves in front of her?

. . .

Y/N Y/L/N

“And that’s when I told him: I think I left them in the carriage!” Inara Johnson laughed riotously, briefly touching your arm as you laughed, mirroring the young woman’s impish grin. She had been recounting a sordid story about her courtship with her husband since it seemed your mother was quite liberal in spreading the word about your season beginning. Even still, Mrs. Johnson was quite a breath of fresh air after you suffered nine suitors trying too hard to impress you.

“I can’t imagine what you could have done without a spare change of clothing!” You managed through laughs, ignoring the pinch in your cheeks after hours of simpering and entertainment. You were only about halfway through the merriment, the orchestra completing a lively movement to start transitioning to the first waltz of the evening.

You only had a few moments to find your next suitor: Lord Ciel Phantomhive.

“I should find my husband for this waltz! I certainly hope you find yours quite soon, my Lady, I’ll be looking forward to your wedding,” she chuckled, parting with you after a playful wink.

“Enjoy the night,” you nodded, unsure of how to start your search for a faceless man as Mrs. Johnson found Mr. Johnson in seconds. He’d only been paces away, engaged with your parents about something you couldn’t quite pick up.

You took another look at your card to ensure that Ciel Phantomhive was indeed your next dance partner, but just as your gaze caught his name again, the man who pulled you from the carriage approached you. The very one that you were content with never laying eyes on again.

“Lady Y/n, just the perfect timing. Were you looking to join this waltz now?” He dared to ask, his sapphire eye just as breathtaking as it had been, his lips turning in the same mildly amused manner. Trying to appear aloof. “Or were you uninterested in sharing your time with the likes of mediocre destitution such as myself?” he asked, repeating the words you threw at him.

Was he trying to get a rise out of you?

You felt your face warm from his attempts as you fashioned your falling expression into a sparking grin. The future-Countess-of-Richmond-grin that you relied on so much. There was no losing your temper in this environment without mortifying your family name.

“Unfortunately, my dance card is full,” you answered with false kindness, feeling the young man see straight through your pleasant deception. That was one of the only lines a young noblewoman had to tell a man to leave her to her lonesome; it was well-known by all of polite society. “Perhaps another time. Though I really do need to find my next—” you started, starting to take a step to walk around him, but he side-stepped in your path.

“—After I saved your life last week, I thought you might find time for a dance,” he interjected, causing the remnants of your Countess smile to falter. “That’s why I had my butler secure this waltz with you.”

Your blood ran cold, your smile finally melting off your face. He couldn’t be…could he? It would only make sense, you supposed. A person astute enough to even impress your father.

“I was scheduled with the Earl of Phantomhive,” you forced yourself to answer placidly. You readjusted your expression, unwilling to give the man the satisfaction of visibly surprising you.

“Then you found me already,” Lord Phantomhive replied, all too satisfied. You didn’t even find him! He found you!

You failed to conceal your thoughts, judging by the condescending mirth in his grin. “Shall we?”

. . .

CIEL PHANTOMHIVE

“I— yes, I suppose we shall,” Lady Y/n cleared her throat, despite herself. She laced her arm with Ciel’s as he guided her to the center of the ballroom, more than certain that they were attracting attention, even if most people couldn’t connect his appearance to his name. The very reputation that filled a room enough to substitute his physical presence, most of the time.

Technically, he didn’t have to bow to Y/n because he outranked her, but as Sebastian insinuated, apparently Ciel needed to nurse her shallow pride.

Acquiring TransAtlantica is not an option; it is an inevitability.

Taking Y/n’s hand, Ciel led her into the first steps of the waltz. She seemed more interested in studying him than starting a conversation, mechanically following the dance while her mind was elsewhere. He allowed her to dissect the performance he put on for her for a few long moments before speaking.

“I wanted to take this opportunity to extend my sincerest apologies to you, Lady Y/l/n,” Ciel said, visualizing the script that he and Sebastian formulated. He had to make the words seem genuine as if he’d given them enough thought to be considerate, but not so much that he was reciting them. He guided Y/n through a turn, feeling her back tense under his hand.

“I should have helped you find the man who took your things rather than demean you with quips that failed to land,” Ciel continued, taking her continued silence as a bid to continue. His skin crawled at his words, betrayal bristling down his spine. He didn’t apologize. It was fundamentally wrong. And yet, for TransAtlantica, he would. Perhaps this company was the Earl of Phantomhive’s only real love match. “I know I seem far from deserving, but I do hope for your forgiveness. If you give me the opportunity, I hope to show you that I can be,” he continued, fashioning a similar helpless frown that Sebastian used to appeal to frustrated women.

Y/n’s face was unchanged, the same politely engaged expression with clear notes of frustration layered beneath. Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy—she was a petulant heiress unused to not having her way with people. She hummed, tilting her head as she took another moment to dissect his expression. The movement caused her long earrings to sway, drawing Ciel’s attention to the length of her neck and the complicated waves she had her hair styled in.

“You should have helped me,” Y/n agreed gruffly. “A proper gentleman would have, after all,” she mused.

Was the apology not gentlemanly enough? Ciel felt it exceeded expectations.

“I would…treasure the chance to prove myself to be a gentleman, then.” He answered, using part of a line Sebastian fed him. The demon did not have any foresight into the future, but after investigating Y/n with the intensity he would look into a criminal with, he had decent intuition regarding how these planned interactions would unfold. Sebastian accurately assumed she wouldn’t accept that apology.

“The chance to prove yourself?” Y/n repeated, her interest piqued at the proposition. Finally—a new emotion on her face besides detached politeness. “That sounds like quite the endeavor, my Lord.”

“It may very well be, should you let me accompany you on a promenade next week,” Ciel answered, watching her face redden. “If you might overlook my…” his mouth was drier than cotton, “deficiencies.”

He nearly choked on the word. Bloody Hell.

“Perhaps I might find time,” Lady Y/n answered, and Ciel’s heart soared for all the right reasons. He had a chance at the corporation, after all. It seemed acting was just as suspiciously close to lying as Sebastian had insisted.

Acquiring TransAtlantica is not an option; it is an inevitability.

. . .

[melodianaartist]

It’s been a hot minute since I read book to circus (and frankly I never had the chance to watch the anime) but watching an edit made me remember how fucking tragic it is for Ciel specifically. Because if I recall right this is the first time he actively kills someone he was close to. Like, he played a hand in his aunts demise by uncovering her murders but ultimately that was Grelle’s doing. Curry arc was mostly fun with only Lau and Ran Mao doling out punishment. Ciel may have declared he would doom himself for revenge but this is the first time he ordered a kill on people he knew were not fully bad. Who were maybe even similar to him in that they were dying horrible slow deaths before but then they were saved by something deeply evil. Who were maybe even a bit like a family to him, even if just for a short while.

I can’t say how the anime framed this (I merely got screenshots because I couldn’t find manga caps), but to me this scene is vile. I’ve seen it interpreted in a sebaciel/sexual way before and obviously that’s rubbish but there is a sense of perversion here, though not sexual. Sebastian is taking advantage of a child‘s anxiety attack to push him to cross a threshold he will forever be branded by and internalize. Remember how in Book of Atlantic he says he wants to fill Ciel‘s soul with trauma so it‘s more delicious? That’s what he is doing right now. This is him taking advantage of any of Ciel‘s weaknesses and using that to make him worse. He is fucking seasoning the poor child!! Sebastian also expressed admiration for Ciel‘s goal to proudly walk into doom and here the demon is making sure Ciel’s will forever do that, because this will heavily contribute to Ciel cutting himself off emotionally. It’s a reminder that for his revenge everyone is but pawns and he can’t show mercy. Especially not after this. Not to mention it isolates him further from any kind of support system.

When Ciel then goes out of his way to also kill his closest friend, freckles/doll, that is not just making sure there are no stray ends to this case. It’s a testament to how much this has „corrupted“ and numbed him.

(again couldn‘t get proper manga caps from google images so these have markings on them)

The fact that we only see the eye with sebastian‘s pact mark here is such good symbolism. This is the result of sebastian‘s manipulation. Ciel‘s soul was already doomed by the pact but this was the point where Ciel as a person crossed a threshold to certain doom. And he knows that (although i‘m not sure he could admit Sebastian‘s hand in this to himself).

In the emerald witch arc both joker and doll are there among his family, being a vehicle to questioning why he made the pact. Ciel eventually comes to the realization that he made a pact for himself. And by that logic, Ciel probably believes, that everything else is a natural consequence to that. Something he had to overcome/do for himself. He needs to tell himself that or else he would fall apart. But Sebastian very much manipulated him into if BoC and the fact that Ciel fully becomes himself after passing Doll just confirms how much that experience changed him and was the final nail in the coffin of who he is now. And who he is now is doomed. Because of Sebastian (I cannot stress this enough).

[kywaslost]

What’s up. I too have gotten hooked on Black Butler. After 3 years of not being in the fandom anymore. I have a fanfic idea for you.It’s a Ciel x reader so it’s going to be more on the angst side but still fluffy and funny if you look at it from an angle. It’s Ciel. C’mon.

So basically the reader is very similar to him. Being that she also has intense trauma and is extremely stoic and cold. On the other hand she’s also considered eerie and ominous looking. Soon Ciel after a while starts having feeling for the reader, he sees her as someone who understands him completely and fully. Ciel starts showing that he’s interested in being in a more intimate relationship with the reader other then just being partners. The reader of course rejects all these moves even though she also likes him, not only because he’s engaged but because she knows he’s a manipulator. After a long time of driving Sebastian insane with the pinning and rejecting, Lizzy finds out about Ciel’s feelings for the reader and confronts both of them. She’s lightly bitterly and is crying at first but she does want Ciel to be happy and is good friends with the reader (and she’s an Angel) so she doesn’t hold him back. Now the reader and Ciel are in a situation where they can show there feeling for each other freely but have no idea where to start.

Just so that you have a small reference to what I mean by a stoic and eerie looking reader I have a drawing of my Black Butler OC that you can take notes from (you don’t have to just here if you want lmfao)

Thank you, hopefully it’s not too long or complicated. You don’t have to write this if you don’t feel comfortable enough just tell me if you’re not going to write it or not. Have a good day!

Troubled Love - Ciel Phantomhive

A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long! This is a long one that I wanted to take time on and work on when I felt like I could write this to the best of my ability. First of all, your drawing is ABSOLUTELY GORGEOUS!!! I’m literally in love with it! I hope this turned out ok! I also completely skipped over the part where the reader is an angel and didn’t see it until I finished this, so I hope it’s ok that I left that bit out. Let me know if you’d like me to rewrite this properly <3

Warning/s: mentions of night terrors, mentions of panic attacks (no descriptions)

You had met the Earl Phantomhive around the time his parents had passed. You had met the Phantomhive through the grapevine of the Queen’s ‘guard dogs’, and didn’t really get to know the young boy until he returned, demon butler by his side. It was then the two of you were paired for missions. The Queen saw similarities between the two of you, and thought it would be well for you to become friends with the Earl.

You see, due to your past, you weren’t the most sociable person out there. You preferred to keep to yourself, and refrained from interacting with others as much as you could. It played in your favor that most feared you, both due to your reputation with the queen as well as the way you presented yourself. It was almost as if no one could touch you.

Until you officially met Ciel. The two of you worked well together. What you lacked in skill and intelligence, he made up for, and vice versa. It also helped that Sebastian was there. In fact, the demon butler and his master took a liking to you, even going as far as inviting you to stay at the Estate when they learned that you didn’t have an official residence. You agreed hesitantly. While you were comfortable around the two, you couldn’t bear the thought of being vulnerable around them. You were traumatized at a young age, leaving you plagued with nightmares and flashbacks from time to time. Opening yourself up to Ciel was a huge step for you, one you were unsure how to handle.

Ciel, on the other hand, was ecstatic. He’d never admit it, partially due to his personality and partially due to his engagement to Lizzy, but the Earl had begun developing feelings for you. It was more than a petty middle school crush that other boys his age experienced. He had been feeling this way for quite some time now, and couldn’t quite name his emotions until he spoke of it with Sebastian. It was worth the endless teasing that lasted weeks, but Ciel had now finally realized how much he truly loved you. And now you’re going to be living with him.

Ciel was unsure of how to show his love for you without a) making it obvious, and b) letting Lizzy know. Don’t get him wrong, Ciel truly did like Lizzy and he didn’t want to do anything to hurt her, but he loved you more than her. The boy opted to spend time with you doing small things, such as reading together or just simply sitting in the same room as you as the two of you worked separately. You were hesitant of all this at first, because you were used to being alone so often, but over time you became more comfortable.

This time spent between the two of you went from silence to small chatter. Ciel would ask how your day has been, and you’d answer then return the question. It took months of living together and getting accustomed to each other’s emotions to begin discussing deeper topics. You were both severely traumatized children who never learned how to cope with said trauma. Sure, Ciel had Sebastian, but he was a demon and therefore was incapable of feeling human emotions. So he tried talking to you.

Ciel wouldn’t ever say much about the death of his family or the events that came afterwards, but he wanted to be vulnerable around you. The boy hoped that this would bring the two of you even closer, and then he’d be comfortable enough to confess his love for you. Except every time he tried to have a deep conversation, you would turn him down almost immediately. There was one week in particular when you were having vivid night terrors, causing you to get only a few hours of sleep a night. You would wake up screaming until you couldn’t anymore, and often suffered intense panic attacks afterwards. Usually Sebastian would try and help but you would only push him away, barely muttering about how you were alright and didn’t need any help.

These night terrors always woke Ciel, and after the third night he came bursting into your room in the place of Sebastian. He desperately tried to calm you down, to try and talk to you, but you refused his help. It broke his heart to see you this way, and to know that you were unwilling to accept his help hurt him even more. How could the two of you be together if you wouldn’t let him help you?

The next day during breakfast, Ciel offered to let you speak to him anytime about anything you needed. Whether it be to get something off of your chest, or just to rant about anything, he would be there for you. You weren’t sure how you felt about his offer, so you only nodded and took a bite of your food.

The Earl Phantomhive invited you on an afternoon walk after dinner. At first you hesitantly agreed, only because Sebastian would be following closely. Yet once you saw the extravagant clothing the boy was wearing, you quickly retreated back to your room and feigned illness. It took some convincing, but Ciel finally left you to ‘recover’. In reality, you curled up on the floor, leaning against the door as you silently cried to yourself. 

You were so torn between your emotions. It was blatantly obvious that Ciel saw you as more than just a friend, and he wanted to take your relationship to the next level. You wondered if your own emotions were just as easy to see. You wouldn’t admit it just yet, but you were beginning to fall for Ciel yourself. Although you hadn’t opened up much to the boy, it was easy to feel comfortable and see him. The two of you shared similar pasts, and you hadn’t met anyone else that made you feel as safe and comfortable as the Earl did. 

Despite your feelings for the boy, there was one major red flag following closely behind him. Ciel was a master manipulator. It was clear as day that Ciel knew just how to act to get what he wanted, knew what to say to get his way. You weren’t even sure if he had manipulated you at some point, he was that good. Oh, and he’s also engaged.

You wanted to take Ciel up on all of his romantic gestures. You wanted to go on late night walks with him, go to balls (even though neither of you particularly enjoyed them), or even just spend the evening together almost every night of the week. Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to give in to the urge.

This carried on for months. Ciel would ‘discreetly’ ask you out on small dates, and you would turn him down and most commonly retreat to your room. Once you left, Ciel’s small smile would fall and he would immediately turn to Sebastian with downcast eyes.

Sebastian was the only one Ciel could confess to at this point. He couldn’t go to Izzy, obviously, and he couldn’t go to you, so he was left with his demon butler. It was a part of their bedtime routine now. Sebastian would dress Ciel for bed, asking him about his day and his plans for the next. Ciel would grumble about paperwork before quickly changing the subject to his failed attempts of asking you out. He’d seek advice from the demon before turning in for the night. 

It wasn’t until six months after Ciel’s first attempt to ask you out that Lizzy was caught in the crossfire. It wasn’t intentional, and Ciel would have never said anything if he were aware of her presence. 

Lizzy had planned another surprise visit and stay at the Phantomhive Manor. She had arrived later than expected due to an extreme thunderstorm causing a delay in travel. Upon arriving at the manor, she let herself in and immediately ran to where she assumed Ciel would be in his study as her maid carried in her baggage. Lizzy quickly but silently ran to Ciel’s study, throwing open the door.

“Ciel!” she squealed in the highest pitch her voice could achieve. “Supri– oh.” Lizzy frowned slightly when she noticed the empty room. It looked as though Ciel hadn’t been there in a while. Shaking her head, the girl grinned widely yet again when she could hear faint voices coming from down the hall. Upon further expectation, she realized the voices were coming from the library. 

Elizabeth wasted no time in bursting into the room rather loudly, causing you and Ciel to quite literally jump out of your seats with fear. Ciel’s hand even ghosted over the firearm he had tucked into his boot. 

“Ciel!” Lizzy squeals again. She runs over to the two of you, about to tackle the poor boy in a hug before realizing what was going on between the two of you. 

You had to admit, this wasn’t the ideal position to see your fiance and your best friend in. It wasn't anything too terrible, but it could definitely raise some questions. You were practically laying in Ciel’s lap, your legs draped over his as your head rested against his shoulder. A book rested against your legs where Ciel was reading to you a mere moment ago. You both were dressed in your night clothes, and overall this was a very rare sight of Ciel. 

Lizzy’s smile immediately dropped to a deep frown, her bright green eyes welling with tears. “Y/N? Ciel? What’s going on?”

You jumped out of Ciel’s lap and to the other side of the couch. Your heart was beating out of your chest, fear coursing through your veins. This is exactly why you never wanted to act on your feelings for Ciel, for fear of ruining not only his relationship with Lizzy, but also your own. “Lizzy,” Ciel says quickly, standing and tossing the forgotten book onto the couch. He tried to reach out to the girl but she only took a step back and wiped at her eyes.

“I should have seen it coming,” she chokes through a broken cry. “I knew this day would come.” It takes a moment for Lizzy to calm herself down, but she wipes the last of her tears away as Ciel tries to comfort her.

“It’s ok,” she cuts him off from his senseless babbling, pushing his outstretched arms away. “I’ve known for a long time that this day would come.” Glossy green eyes met your e/c ones as she smiled softly. “I can see how much the two of you love each other,” she confesses. “And as much as I love the two of you, I can’t bear knowing I am what is keeping you from being together.” Lizzy’s gaze shifted to her fiance. “I love you Ciel. So much that I want you to be happy.” Her warm hands slowly reached for his own, giving them a gentle squeeze. “So I’m ending our engagement.” Pressing one last kiss against Ciel’s cheek, Lizzy let go. 

“I can only hope the best for the two of you.” Just like that, she was gone.

You and Ciel couldn’t bear to look at each other, let alone speak. You weren’t sure how to feel. You finally had the freedom to be with the man you were learning to love, yet at what cost? Did you just lose your best friend? What do you know? Ciel was asking himself the same questions. But it didn’t take long for him to drop beside you back on the couch, slowly turning to you. 

“What do we do now?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper. 

“I don’t know,” Ciel confessed. “To be honest, I think I need some time to process this.”

You nodded, then stood quickly. “Of course, I understand.” You retreated back to your bedroom as soon as possible, diving under the covers and staring at the ceiling. You were finally free to express your love for Ciel, yet unsure what the next steps were. It was going to take time to figure out your relationship status with the Earl, and what to do next, but it will be worth the wait.

[knight-princess]

Appreciation post for:

• Wererats. Fucked up little beasties. Do they turn into people on the full moon or did they used to be people, I can’t remember and Boorman certainly never explained. Look like roadkill and sincerely want to fuck you up. Two heads for some reason. Only appear once and are dope and real animatronics and everything I’m pretty sure

• “Chloe Allagash’s brave little man”, otherwise known just as Allagash. Insults extraordinaire. Spent like. ten years in a box pretending to be his best mate and was so committed to that bit he tried to sell it to his best mate’s other best mate and daughter. Gave up his life to fight trolls and save the gang. Hates olives. Iconic

• Madmartigan, who I spent far too long convinced was actually called Martigan and nicknamed “Mad” Martigan by all his mates. Also in a box when we meet him. Tries to feed roots to a newborn. Slays in pink. Souped up on the love potion, gains himself an enemies to lovers arc with the hot badass warrior queen

• Sorsha Tanthalos, said hot badass warrior, redemption arc speedrun, kiss in the middle of battle pro, stop listening to your evil mom and make your own choices queen. Pissed off that the dorky hot rogue confessed his undying love to her and it was just love potion. “‘I dwell in darkness without you’ and it went away???” Go off queen. You can fix that never fear. Dopest sword ever but also that would be so so sucky to get stabbed with because fuck that is a lot of serrations. Is it all that functional? Don’t know but it looks awesome. 10/10. Goes straight from being henchman to her evil mom to trying to run a whole kingdom, raise three kids and keep one of them from dying to fulfil the prophesy. Makes some dodgy decisions. Complains about it all to her (literal) captive audience. Saves her daughters life. Complicated queen

• Sorsha x Madmartigan. Enemies to lovers classic with all the fun twists. “Love her?!? I don’t love her! She kicked me in the face!” Oh you just wait buddy. Couple affirming kiss mid battle??? Oh fuck yeah, sign me the fuck up. “I dwell in darkness without you.” Wait. Was that foreshadowing

• Jade and Elora being besties. Unexpected and delightful. Elora calling her “J” nearly made me hit the cieling. You’re telling me they’ve got nicknames already??? Sign me the fuck up. I love it. Need more of it pls and thank you

• Lili of Cashmere. On the wyrms milk. Dresses like a Greek goddess. Known by the alias “the Crone” which she hates even tho she really is secretly a skeleton held together with goo and a love of drama (I’m reusing that description ok I enjoyed it too much the first time). Evil makeover specialist. A+ Lili I love you

• And last but not least, smart and sassy trolls. @lowkeyed1 is a lifesaver and provided me with the transcript for the episode bc I remembered they had some truly iconic lines but couldn’t for the life of me remember what they were. So we’ve got: “He’s not appealing, but he speaks his mind, and I suppose that’s something” of Sarris’s own brother. Of the Crone: “Is she the eldritch nightmare people make her out to be? Yes. But she has her positive qualities too.” Lol fair. The forever iconic “I deplore those who rouse rabble” and my personal favourite “yeah, cos when I said ‘I do’, what I really meant was ‘explain it to me like I’m an imbecile’.”

[xxstraymoonchildxx]

This Couple is Unusual

Prev. / Next

Chapter 3 This couple, competing

cw: one suggestive implication

The young earl suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, impatiently waiting for the undertaker to stop his hysterical laughter. Undertaker's chest heaved, choking on his gasps of air. He had to support himself on one of his many coffins, wiping off drool from his chin. Amused, you observed the earl whose visible eye twitched slightly and only now do you notice the eyepatch peeking out from under his sidebangs. He hadn’t noticed you yet or was ignoring you on purpose.

The raven-haired butler stood right behind him but his calculating eyes were fixed on Satan. Three more people were with them - a man of Chinese heritage, a lady dressed in red from head to toe, and next to her another butler, timidly looking around and plain as the day compared to the rest.

“Ah, Earl. I was wondering when you’ll step through my doors again. And you couldn’t have arrived at a better time~” Undertaker had finally composed himself, stepping closer to the boy. “Is today the day you have come to see how it feels to sleep in my custom-made coffins?”

A scoff left the kid's lips “I didn’t come here to play arou-” A finger touching his mouth silenced him. “I know exactly why you are here, no need to tell me. Although you are not the only one looking for answers today~” Undertaker grinned, a subtle nod ordering all attention on the two of you.

The air tensed as Ciel Phantomhive narrowed his eye(s), glancing towards his butler, you, and the blond next to you, who had his gloved hand protectively on the small of your back. You raised your hand, waving.

“Who are you?”

“Ah, we’ve met briefly,” Sebastian threw into the room, leaning forward to whisper into his ear. You did the same with Satan, asking him if you should take your leave. He nodded and displayed a practiced smile “We remember, feel free to take no account of us, we were on our way out anyway.” He turned to Undertaker “Again, it was our pleasure. Until next time, should we not solve the case first.”

A bolt of lightning could be imagined between the two of you and them, an unspoken challenge.

You were watched when you walked out, Satan holding the door open for you and you couldn’t help the cheeky upturn of your lips when you passed the boy who looked like Belphegor, the ‘Queen’s watchdog’ Cavendish most likely had warned you about.

The funeral director hummed “The international press is surely committed these days~”

Ciel scoffed. As if some no-name reporters could solve his case.

True to your estimation, Satan was hooked. You spent the next couple of days researching suspects - experts from the medical field, from bourgeoisie to proletariat.

The thesis of the culprit being involved with black magic was also in the room (which was scarily popular during this time) plus there was the possibility of Jack the Ripper being more than one person - a statement by yours truly, so you had the honor of persuading this path on your own so he could make more background checks. With the help of the Sorcerer’s Society and the documentation of the Yard, you were able to narrow down the circle of suspects, even if Satan was way quicker thanks to him being a demon. Were you dragging him down? The avatar of wrath had answered your suspicion with a kiss on your temple and a reassuring smile.

After an exhausting day, you have thrown your jacket on the ground and let yourself fall onto the covers of your bed. Feet aching, your magical energy drained from teleporting and your belly full from the three-course dinner Satan invited you to. Tomorrow, you told yourself, will be a shopping spree day. After all, a promise was a promise, and you were still missing some souvenirs.

Satan joined you shortly after, his fingers grazing your back, playing with the hooks of your bodice holding it together.

“Tired, huh?”

You hummed in agreement, more so when he started to work on the knots of your trapezius. He chuckled at your soft sighs, slowly pulling off the fabric to touch the top of your spine with his lips. “Mhm, not that I don’t like this but I should shower first, don’t you think?” Satan gently turned you around, hovering over you, his blond strands framing his face nicely and green eyes longingly boring into yours.

“Right after, my dear wife.”

A fit of giggles fell from your lips in response to his kisses, suddenly not minding your exhaustion at all.

“We have a promising clue,” Sebastian stated, elegantly serving a new pot of tea to the guests sitting under the chandelier in the drawing room of the Phantomhive manor. “A doctor, knowledgeable in human anatomy, connected to a secret society or black magic: matching with the criteria for the Whitechapel case would be the Viscount Druitt - Lord Aleister Chamber Although he is a medical school graduate, he hasn’t worked in a hospital or been involved in this profession. He has hosted several seasonal parties in the near past, but rumors say various parties were only attendable by those close to him.”

Angeliana Durless alias Madam Red, Ciel’s maternal aunt, leaned back into the comfy parlor chair, finger on her chin “Viscount Druitt…come to think of it, I do recall he has been into black magic lately.”

“He is also suspected of running some sort of secret ceremony during his parties. There is a possibility of him having prostitutes sent in as altar sacrifices for dark rituals and, or selling their organs and body parts to his guests.”

Lau, the second guest argumented, sipping from the delicate cup in his hands.

“Appropriately, he is hosting a party at the 19th hour of this day as the seasonal period will end with it. The ideal time for an investigation, don’t you agree, young master?”

Sebastian smiled eerily, already knowing the answer. Ciel gripped his fork.

“Madam Red, you sure can arrange something, can you?”

She answered with a laugh “What do you take me for, my dear nephew? Aren’t I quite popular? A word here, a word there - I have an invitation in no time~”

/This might be our only chance!/

A few hours later, the carriage arrived at Viscount Druitt’s lavish manor. People in their prettiest gowns and best suits were guided inside.

Ciel Phantomhive crossed his glove-covered arms, waist arching from that torturously tight-laced corset he was forced to wear. For their undercover-mission, he had to pose as his aunt's niece from the countryside and Sebastian being ‘her’ home tutor. Lau, who was uncharacteristically dressed in a smoking suit, was Madam Red's lover for the night. Only Grell was left out from acquiring a new role.

“It seems tonight will be rather enjoyable.” Lau hummed, eyes closed.

/Maybe for you, you don't have to dress up like a girl!/

“Don't make such a face. You look so cute!” his aunt teased, bringing Ciel in a bone-crushing hug “I always wanted to have a daughter to dress up so prettily!”

The Earl blushed, annoyance over his face. /This is humiliating/

He had to wear a blush pink dress with white ruffles and black accents, decorated with bows on the dress itself and over his chest. The equally pink headpiece with a white bow had also pink roses attached and sat nicely on his long twintail wig, hiding his eyepatch perfectly from view. If he had to describe it, it was pompous and utterly girly. Something he'd associate with his fiancé.

“Don't tell me you don’t like it? A lot of cloth had to be used for this to happen, you know. In France, nonetheless. It's all in vogue!”

“Let go of me now, why would I like it?!” Ciel snapped.

“Oh my, shouting so loud isn't becoming of a Lady,” Sebastian immediately reprimanded him with a smile, a gloved hand pushing up his glasses. He too was dressed up handsomely, black suit over a pristine white shirt and an ascot wrapped around the high collar. “Did you not say, you would ‘use any means necessary’?”

Ciels skin took an unhealthy red color but he did remember. Viscount Druitt was a man with catholic taste after all, so him posing as a girl was the perfect coverage, wherever he liked it or not. This was for the case.

“Shall we go then, my Lady?”

As expected, security was tight but they went in without facing any problems. To say the ballroom was packed was an understatement. It would take a while for them to find Lord Chamber.

Ciel started to complain about his get-up, stating he wouldn't want to see his fiancé dressed like this.

“Wow, your headpiece is exquisite!”

“Oh, why thank you!”

The Earl groaned “I'm starting to hear things like she is-”

“Oh, there are so many pretty dresses, but yours looks the best so far! Like a princess from a fairytale!”

“Aren't you energetic? You look very cute yourself. Just make sure to not bump into someone while running around.”

“Will do!”

“...here.”

Sebastian and Ciel turned around at the same time with horror.

He had to jinx it, hadn't he?

Geeze, I wonder who Lizzy was talking to 🤔

I planned to put more plot inside but decided to cut the chapter I had planned (this already has 1,5K words, and I don't want to rush through it

Until next time!

[etincelleart]

Some thoughts about Penny’s potential (I hope) revival (as I am indeed delusional, hopeful, but also I still have valid arguments for that lmao).

I imagine a few different ways for Penny to potentially be able to come back. So first I just wanted to talk again about the reasons I think she could come back, as her death isn’t depicted the same way as Pyrrha’s at all. I already wrote other threads about that so I’ll just sum up quickly the main reasons :

1) Penny’s arc is tragic and even if her final choice was shown to us as a choice, it wasn’t really one to me. She didn’t get anywhere close to her goals (aka : live a simple life and enjoy it with her friends, discover the world, experience it just like a human would do) and decided to end her life as a sacrifice to protect her friends. It feels like her arc isn’t done or closed at all, because other characters were closer to their own goals (etc : Pyrrha who wanted to be a Huntress, she died but as if she was one, also her character is based on a tragic story already-).

2) Penny’s based on Pinocchio, a character who dies multiple times in his original story. He dies by being hanged if I’m not wrong (parallel to Penny dying by her own strings connected to Floating Arrays). The second time he dies, it’s by drowning to save his father. Then he’s revived by the Blue Fairy. Penny also died by sacrificing herself to protect the powers and the Relic (even if Salem got the Staff).

Also, Penny has a lot of similarities with Astroboy. Even if at the start, Astro was a human who died and was revived as a robot, there are still so many parallels to Penny’s story. I saw a thread about it already so I don’t know if I’ll redo one but when I find it I’ll link it here. Not to mention the fact that at the end of the 2009 movie (idk for the original story or the anime), Astroboy dies by sacrificing himself to save everyone. Zog (who was revived by Astroboy earlier) shares a bit of his blue energy to revive Astroboy again.

So at the end of their stories, both Pinocchio and Astroboy got the chance to live their life after tragedies after tragedies, even after they both sacrified their lives and expected to never be able to come back. So I wonder why this wouldn’t be possible for Penny, would could completely have her chances after struggling SO MUCH for so long. She literally never had any break : in Vale she wasn’t free, she couldn’t be alone for too long, she was told not to talk to anybody, she was just here to fight at the tournament. She’s followed by Ironwood, his soldiers, she’s controlled. Even if she breaks these rules to be able to become friend with Ruby and team RWBY, she’s still always under someone’s watch, with Ciel too for example.

During V7-8, she never had the chance to really experience anything as well. She wasn’t in any team anymore, she was the Protector of Mantle, so she could only be alone fighting monsters in Mantle. She was just here to work, all the time, Ironwood telling her she didn’t have the time for friends. Then she got framed once again at the elections, and was on the side for a moment because she was scared, confused, people asked for her to be destroyed, and they also had to recover her memories to prove her innocence. Then, RIGHT after everything started to get better for her, she got stuck in the situation with the Winter Maiden powers she never wanted in the first place.

From this moment she was just NEVER in peace. She, team RWBY and others were wanted, Ironwood, the Ace-Ops and Winter were after her, she couldn’t fight like she wanted, Pietro wanted her to stay far from all of that, Cinder attacked her for the powers, she got hacked. Salem sent the Hound after her as well, then she was just stuck with the virus. She FINALLY had that very short moment to breath after Ambrosius turned her body to flesh because she was free from the virus, but she was still the Maiden so she still had this role to play to protect people in Vacuo. But her friends got attacked and she just decided to stop everything by giving Winter the powers.

(btw, one thing that I’d like to add is that Penny died to protect her friends because she knew Cinder wanted the powers she didn’t want herself. This was probably the most logical option for her at this point. The powers are the main reason why she tried several time to tell people to let her sacrifice herself, or to kill her, because it was also a source of suffering for her.)

This girl literally never had ONE SINGLE moment to experience anything, those were just tiny bits here and there by talking to Ruby and the others, but it was still during work time, she still had duties, etc.

When you look at her arc with an overall view, this is WAY too far from her inital goals. I get that life can be cruel as well in RWBY, but this character is so far the most tragic character of the series. Both times she could live, she’s never been able to do so as she was controlled from everywhere. That’s why I don’t really see her arc ending like that as a definitive end. This is really too far for her character and if she really doesn’t come back, this will be the most cruel thing ever to do to me aha-

3) All the hints for her in Volume 9 and the BIG chunks of RWBY lore we got just convinced me that things couldn’t stop here. This volume was really about rebirth and reincarnation, not just for Ruby but also literally for other characters (Little/Somewhat, the Paper Pleasers/the Genial Gems, the Herbalist). We got a complete new vision about balance in the RWBY universe. So far balance was represented by two childish brothers who act like gods when they’re not gods. They talk about balance when the only thing they’re able to do is fight, break their own rules, and impose this idea of life and death when they come from a place where death doesn’t exist like on Remnant. It’s balance, repair, coming back as something new. This volume ends with no closure for Penny, and a lot of hope from me about this whole thing.

4) Penny’s soul isn’t lost, it’s in Winter’s soul. In Volume 7, Penny said about Fria “she’s... gone”. Winter answered with “No. She’s a part of you now”. And we have this parallel in the Volume 8 finale : “when you’re... gone...”. “I won’t be gone, I’ll be a part of you !”. This isn’t just metaphorical, this is also literal : the powers are linked to the soul/the Aura, so even if the body dies, in fact the soul doesn’t go to the Afterlife or somewhere else : it goes with the new Maiden’s soul.

5) Also, I’d like to mention a few of the stuff starting to be developped in Volume 8 with Penny : her friendship with Nora, these two got closer this volume and Nora helped Penny to fight the virus and to think as herself as more than a machine as well. At the end she was even concerned about her and said “I hope Penny is okay”. She cares about her, and just kill her off like that without developping anything more seems a bit odd ? Even Clover who got killed as well had time to have a bigger influence on Qrow. This can’t be the only thing Nora could do for Penny to me. Same goes for Winter, even if Penny’s arc was also a way to develop Winter’s character, I just feel sad that they only talk about that in the end.

6) I think Penny and Ruby would be really beneficial for each other. Outside of the ship aspect (even if I’m a very big Nuts and Dolts shipper as well aha-), I think both of their arc are truly intertwined and connected in many ways. With Ruby finally being able to let go of this idealized image of her mother, this opens so much possibilities for her character. With Penny being back, this would just be so great for them to be able to be themselves together. So far Ruby was never just a leader or a strong warrior for Penny, she was Ruby first. For Ruby, Penny wasn’t just a machine or the Winter Maiden, she was Penny first. I’d love to see more of their arc developped together fully this time.

With all of that said (I could go deeper into the arguments but it would be sooo long and I already wrote others theads for the Volume 9 content for example !), I’d like to talk about how Penny could come back.

So far I have a few characters and elements that could play a part in that : first we have Pietro, Penny’s father, who’s still around in Vacuo as it’s probably the case since we saw Amity Arena there. We have Ambrosius, who’s the spirit of creation, even if he’s currently with Salem’s team. We now have the Blacksmith, even if she/they are in the Ever After, who’s the RWBY God and the origin of everything and seem to be omniscient. We also have Winter, the current Winter Maiden, Jaune and his Semblance, Ruby for her bond and relationship with Penny. As for other elements, we have the Aura Transfer Machine, that we still never really saw in action.

The possibilities that Volume 9 brought are actually so big that I can’t fully imagine what it could be like. I just think that this isn’t the last time we’ll see the Tree and the Ever After before the end of the story. At this point I think it’s probably almost certain that the Brothers are going to be back on Remnant after all the Relics are reunited, but we don’t know how things will play out for that. This is hard to think about the end of the story overall because there are sooooo much things to talk about aha. But rn we can still focus on what we have in Vacuo.

I already talked earlier about how Pietro’s character is important for Penny. I honestly think that if they wanted to kill Penny definitely, they would have killed Pietro as well. But Pietro’s still here and he’s a key for Penny’s development and literal existence. He’s his own character of course, but his role as a scientist in Atlas was still covered by the fact that before anything else, he was Penny’s father. He gave parts of his own soul to make her and lost her once. But instead of giving up, he remade her and gave more parts of his soul. After losing her a 2nd time, unless he had Maria’s support and help, I don’t really see him grieving her. He wasn’t even able to not remake her the first time, instead of grieving he rebuilt her. So this time again, especially after seeing his reactions in Volume 8, how he wanted her to have the chance to live her life, how he got upset, I don’t think he would not at least try to remake her.

Now, how could it be done ? I rewatched parts of Volume 3 about Amber, the Maiden powers but also the ATM (Aura Transfer Machine). Ironwood says that Atlas studied Aura in a more scientific way, to understand how it works, its composition, etc. And that’s how they built the ATM, that is made to “capture an Aura and put it into something else”. In Pyrrha’s case, it was capturing Amber’s Aura to put in into Pyrrha, so she could have the powers with it.

Now let’s imagine that with the time skip we have in Vacuo, because we see how everyone had the time to go there, there are multiple ships from every kingdom etc. What if Pietro had the time to study more this machine so it can be able to capture an Aura even if it’s into someone else’s Aura ? In that case, it would be extracting Penny’s soul from Winter’s, without taking the Winter Maiden powers with it. Because yeah I don’t think she would have the powers and I don’t think she should have them. It wouldn’t made sense with her arc and she never wanted these powers in the first place. I think that if she’s revived, she needs to just be Penny and not the Winter Maiden, Winter is perfect for that. Penny was an amazing Maiden as well, but this wasn’t something she wanted to be. I feel like this would make more sense if she had the possibility to just be Penny, to discover herself, her Semblance, stuff like that. After extracting Penny’s soul from Winter, we should put it into something else, maybe Pietro had the time to make another robot body. But would she stay a robot ? I was thinking about the fact that the only necessary thing was to put her soul into something that could be destroyed, it wouldn’t have to be a robot. Maybe her soul could be captured and contained into an object or something, so Ambrosius would just have to do the exact same thing he did with her the first time : recreate the object without the soul, and with that process creating a byproduct which would be a human body for Penny.

Or, since the Blacksmith probably knows about Penny’s death since she has her sword and probably knows as well how much Penny meant for Ruby, maybe she’ll play her part in that. She literally says again “nothing, no one is ever truly lost”, and she’s the one talking about balance like “going to repair and get the chance to become something new”. I feel like the Blacksmith is still gonna be relevant for what’s to come in RWBY’s story.

There’s also the idea that I saw about Pietro sacrificing himself to remake Penny, sharing the rest of his soul to her. I also read this idea of Ruby and Jaune giving parts of their souls as well for her, or Jaune boosting Pietro, allowing him to survive the process. As for the Brothers, we know they can basically bring back people from the dead as saw in The Last Fable (Volume 6), but I doubt this would be just like with Salem. I’d love the Tree/the Blacksmith to play a role into this or to have an influence on the Brothers, so they remember where they come from and how it works there.

If Penny gets revived, either she’s gonna be herself, or she could have partial/total amnesia, that’s a possibility too. It’s pretty hard to know at this point, but I like to think about all options. Overall, I just feel like Penny’s arc is far to be done. Even in Volume 9 ending song The Edge we hear lyrics about rebirth, “where I died I’ll be born again”, and “this is just the beginning”. Again I know this is first and foremost about Ruby’s journey and mental state, about her evolution this volume. But Penny IS a part of Ruby’s story, and was really haunting the narrative this volume. It seems really odd to have so much hints with no closure, unless they plan to do it properly in Volume 10, or if they have something planned for Penny. Truly I know CRWBY members like Penny too so eeeven if the story cannot be defined by how much they like a character, this is still something that could play in the end.

This is a VERY long thread so thank you if you read it fully omg aha ! I still have a lot of ideas but I’ll save them for another one o/

[anonymousewrites]

One Hell of a Love (Book 2) Chapter Twenty-Two

Sebastian Michaelis x Demon! Reader

Chapter Twenty-Two: One Hell of a Scythe

Summary: With Undertaker revealed, he joins the fight, and its a fox and rabbit hunt.

            “Undertaker is a Grim Reaper?” Ciel couldn’t believe it. But the fluorescent eyes didn’t lie.

            “Explain yourself, Undertaker!” Stoker ran down the stairs towards Undertaker. “You said I could control those corpses with this device!”

            “Did I, now? Truly?” Undertaker grinned.

            “So you tricked me?!” cried Stoker. “Was it all a lie?! Even the part about sailing to America to popularize absolute salvation…everything?!”

            Undertaker shrugged. “Well, you seeee…I found it comical that you were attempting so earnestly to resurrect the dead via medical science. You were just the man of talent for my purposes.”

            (Y/N)’s nose twitched, and their eyes narrowed. They had been right. A foolish human had forgotten exactly what they were dealing with.

            “And what of our singular desire to bring the whole world into health and wellbeing through medicine?” said Stoker.

            “That was your desire, right?” Undertaker grinned. “Besides! You are not capable of bringing the dead back to life by the power of the medical knowledge in your grasp. And it all ceased to be medicine in the first place the moment you began to depend on my techniques. One who conducts procedures upon his patients that he himself does not understand can no longer call himself a physician.”

            Stoker’s eyes widened as the plain truth was handed to him. He fell to his knees. “H-How could this be?”

            Undertaker patted his head. “You were a good lad, naively buying all I said without question.”

            So that’s what I sensed on him, thought (Y/N). The reanimated humans left that energy and scent on him.

            “So you’re saying that you masterminded the Aurora Society’s experiments to resurrect the dead?” demanded Ciel, glaring at Undertaker.

            “That’s a secret~,” said Undertaker, raising a finger to his lips. He smiled. “Well, that’s what I’d like to say, but you’ve greatly entertained me.” He glanced at Sebastian and (Y/N). His smile turned to a smirk. “I mean, seeing those two dance around each other is so amusing that I could laugh for hours.” (Y/N) and Sebastian exchanged a confused look, but Undertaker continued. “So tell you, I shall!” He motioned to the corpses around them. “ ‘Twas indeed I who produced these reanimated corpses.”

            “To what end?” questioned Ciel.

            “Well, let’s see. At first, it was probably…simple curiosity towards humans.” Undertaker leaned on his sotoba. “Humans possess ‘bodies of flesh’ and ‘souls.’ If the two are present, humans, as living beings, exist in this world and continue to log their ‘Cinematic Records,’ the memories of their lives. And when the bodies of flesh decay and Grim Reapers retrieve their souls, their Cinematic Records come to an end at that moment, and the living become the dead.

            “Grim Reapers going by their lists, extract human souls from bodies, and bring Cinematic Records to their ends. Day after day. Indifferently. Matter-of-factly.” Undertaker sighed before smirking. “However, one day, after I’d spent a long time as a Grim Reaper doing just that, day in and day out, I came across an…exception.” His eyes landed on (Y/N). “I learned of a being that died a human and had their soul collected and yet returned as something new.”

            (Y/N) narrowed their eyes. They weren’t pleased about being the inspiration for human experimentation. It was distasteful.

            Everyone’s eyes landed on them. Sebastian was the only one who knew they had been a human before dying and becoming a demon. Now they all did.

            “And so, I began to wonder, if there is one way for a being to return to some form of life, are there others?” Undertaker smiled. “What would happen if there was a sequel after the endings of the Records? What would happen to the bodies of flesh that had lost their souls and whose memories had come to an end if I added a continuation to those very memories? Souls alone are all Grim Reapers hunt, after all. The ‘bodies’ and the ‘memories’ in their brains still remain in this world.”

            “Come on,” said Grell incredulously. “You’re telling me you edited their Cinematic Records?”

            “Well, now, why not use your powers and have a looksee at their records for yourself?” said Undertaker, pointing to the reanimated corpses.

            Grell didn’t need another suggestion. She jumped up and sliced through two corpse’s heads, channeling the abilities of a Grim Reaper to see their records. The film strips flew out, displaying the people’s deaths. And then came the extra strips. Undertaker in a top hat and mustache dancing and posing for pictures.

            “Hey! What is this?!” cried Grell.

            “This is…!” exclaimed Sebastian.

            “That’s…!” said (Y/N).

            “What’s going on?!” asked Ciel.

            “ ‘The End’ title of a Cinematic Record, which arrives arm in arm with death never appears because I attached counterfeit memories to the records, like so,” said Undertaker, giggling as he watched his own silliness. “And to my surprise, the flesh, under the mistaken notion that ‘my life continues on,’ began moving on again without its soul.” He sighed and shrugged. “Though it didn’t end up like the exception I’d found before, it was still interesting.”

            “My body was burned to ashes,” said (Y/N) with a sharp smile. They refused to acknowledge everyone’s stares, and they held their head high at the mention of their human life. “So your experiments were never going to create a being like me.”

            “True.” Undertaker grinned. “But everyone starts somewhere, and my creations did end up having some interesting reactions to their new ‘life.’ You see, all living beings instinctively attempt to make up for what they lack. If their bodies are wounded, they try to close the wounds. If their spirits feel isolated, they seek others to alleviate their loneliness. So they also instinctively desire what they lack, and in seeking their ‘souls,’ they attempt to rip open the bodies of living humans. In order to even out the balance of their never-ending Cinematic Records, you see?”

            “So that’s why they came after our souls when they couldn’t see or hear us?!” realized Ciel.

            “Even though it’s impossible to make another’s soul one’s own…” Undertaker’s eyes grew serious for a moment before lightening with a grin. “I can temper with Cinematic Records, but I cannot create souls. I experimented plenty, but most of them became no more than dolls of flesh without an ego. And so I call them thus—neither living, nor dead. They are ‘Bizarre Dolls,’ warped puppets.”

            Ciel’s eyes narrowed, and he gritted his teeth. “Even bad taste has its limits.”

            “If you cannot understand their beauty, you have a quiiite a ways to go, my Lord.” Undertaker strolled to one his Bizarre Dolls, dressed in a white gown, and held her. “White, waxen skin that has been sewn together prettily in semblance of their living selves. Mouths that no longer clamor loudly or spit out lies. Are they not more beautiful now than when they drew breath?”

            Ciel covered his mouth. “I’m going to be sick!”

            (Y/N) agreed the ordeal was quite distasteful. Bringing humans back from the dead wasn’t a good idea. Witches and scientists and doctors and priests had all tried it, and it never ended well. This was just another example of the half-life and emptiness that awaited the beings “brought back.” (Y/N) had returned as a demon due to their…situation as a human and their choice to damn themself. Even they didn’t understand the logistics entirely, but they knew that weren’t an experiment and their return was different than the corpses around them. This was a crime against nature. (Y/N) was not.

            “That may be how you feel, but there are humans who desire these bizarre dolls, you know?” Undertaker smirked. “These children don’t feel any pain or fear. They single-handedly desire souls and devour the living. What say you? Do they not make the best military animals?”

            “What?!” said Ciel. Even Sebastian and (Y/N)’s eyes widened at the idea.

            “Those eccentric fellows said they wanted to see just how useful these could be, so I decided the experiment by tossing the same number of ‘Bizarre Dolls’ as live humans onto this luxury vessel,” explained Undertaker. “Who and how many will be left standing when the killing ends?”

            What use could a reaper have for money that governments pay? thought (Y/N). It doesn’t make sense after he got onto this for philosophic reasons. So what’s he playing at? Now wasn’t the time to consider Undertaker’s motivations, though, since he was clearly a bit deranged and they were dealing with a crisis.

            “…You really have lost your mind,” said Sebastian.

            “Tampering with souls…foolish,” said (Y/N).

            Undertaker shrugged and laughed. “I never imagined we’d run into an iceberg, though. Having quit being a Grim Reaper, I don’t have my list anymore and all. Well, at least I’ve been saved the trouble of making this ship sink, so it’s a matter of killing two birds with one stone.”

            “This ship was never meant to make it to America,” said (Y/N) in understanding.

            “Because of you all, more humans survived than I’d expected. Will I get a scolding for that?” wondered Undertaker playfully.

            “The more I hear, the more we can’t overlook this,” said Grell, hands on her hips.

            “No doubt, it’d be mind-blowing to allow a Grim Reaper to warp death,” said Ronald. “All the same, he ain’t wearin’ specs. Is he one of those ‘deserters’ we get once very blue moon?”

            “I don’t care what he is. Anyway, a Grim Reaper interfering with life and death in the human world is against the rules,” said Grell. “Tying him up and turning him over to the higher-ups would also seem to be the most efficient way to get him to reveal the workings of the moving corpses, hm? And…” She glared at Undertaker. “…on top of your breach of conduct, I shan’t forgive your sin of harming a girl’s face! I shan’t forgive you, even if you are a total dish!”

            Grell jumped at Undertaker, but he blocked her again. “Oopsie!”

            Ronald grinned and launched at Undertaker. “I got your ba—Ah!”

            Sebastian’s kick sent him flying before he could hit Undertaker.

            “Bassy! What do you think you’re doing?!” cried Grell.

            “We cannot allow you to haul him away,” said Sebastian.

            “We ourselves are tasked with presenting the truth before Her Majesty, the Queen,” said Ciel. “We mustn’t let him escape!”

            “And so we shall take him into our custody,” said Sebastian.

            “Personally, I think it would be best to get rid of him before he causes more issues tampering with souls, life, and death, but I’m a little outnumbered right now,” said (Y/N). They smirked. “However…if the opportunity presents itself…”

            Sebastian glanced at them. He hadn’t anticipated them also competing for their own goal. “(Y/N),” he said.

            “Sebastian,” responded (Y/N). “Don’t worry, I won’t attack you. I just won’t pull my punches against Undertaker.”

            Sebastian considered. “Fair enough.” They were still on his side; he’d just have to be quicker than them at securing Undertaker.

            The reaper in question giggled, amused at what he had referred to as their “dance” around each other. Even now, Sebastian allowed (Y/N) to do as they pleased and respected that autonomy, and (Y/N) acted independently while respecting Sebastian’s orders.

            “Hey! This is a Grim Reaper concern,” said Grell. “Outsiders should stay out of it!”

            “This is my duty as a butler. I humbly ask that outsiders refrain from interfering,” said Sebastian.

            “Stoic as usual, Bassy. You do know how to get my blood rushing!” Grell grinned at Sebastian and (Y/N). “Fine, then! If you’re raring to go, we won’t hold back, either.”

            “Grell, you don’t know the meaning of ‘holding back.’ Not that it really matters, though, since we can handle whatever you have to give us,” said (Y/N).

            “Then it’s simple,” said Ronald. “The first one to get him wins. And I don’t have any intention of losing to beasts like you!”

            Undertaker chuckled. “This is juuust like rabbit hunting. Now, then.” He smirked. “Who will be the hunted rabbit?”

            The four beings around him jumped into action. Sebastian drew knives, but before he could throw them, Ronald swung his Death Scythe at him.

            “Whoa there!” Ronald grinned. “My mistake.”

            (Y/N) swept by him, slicing at his clothing with their own knives. “Your eyesight is rather poor.”

            Sebastian took Ronald’s distraction and threw his knives at Undertaker.

            “Grim Reapers are all verrrrry nearsighted!” said Undertaker, spinning a sotoba and blocking the knives.

            Grell leapt into the air. “That puts you at a disadvantage!”

            She swung down, and this time, the sotoba didn’t block her. Whatever magic had been working before, Undertaker had stopped it. He grinned and kicked Grell in the back as her momentum carried her past him.

            Ronald zoomed towards him, and Undertaker hopped into the air. Ronald’s eyes widened, and Undertaker smirked. He struck down with a sotoba and dislodged Ronald’s spectacles.

            Ronald reached for them. “Damn, my specs!”

            Undertaker kicked him to the ground. “You’re still green if you’re relying on your eyes!”

            Grell caught the spectacles. “What the heck are you doing?!” She threw them back at Ronald.

            “Thank you, ma’am!” said Ronald. “Eh?!”

            A silver knife caught his spectacles and sent them flying away. (Y/N) threw more knives at Undertaker and the other reapers.

            “Hunting me with such tableware? I expected the cat to have more claws!” said Undertaker, giggling as he fended off the knives.

            (Y/N) grabbed one of his sotoba in their airs, and it cut clean through as (Y/N)’s claws came out, ripping through their gloves carelessly. Their eyes flashed fuchsia. “Are you sure you can handle my claws?”

            Undertaker let go of the sotoba and jumped back, grabbing another. “I seee~” He grinned out at the group as they gazed at him from around the hall. “Come, come. What’s the matter? Is this all you four can manage? You’re going to hunt me down, aren’t you?”

            “He’s really pissing me off,” muttered Ronald, finally putting his spectacles back on.

            “Let’s do this quick. The ship is listing pretty bad. We’re out of time,” said Grell.

            “You said it,” said Ronald, checking his watch.

            Ronald and Grell lunged for Undertaker, raising their weapons.

            “I can’t be worrying about my looks!” said Grell.

            “We’ve gotta attack head-on!” said Ronald.

            Undertaker raised a sotoba, and it glowed for a moment before he blocked them. Once again, it could parry a Death Scythe.

            “Again?!” shouted Grell. “I can’t believe this! A Death Scythe is supposed to be able to cut through anything! So how come you can parry our Death Scythes?!”

            Undertaker smirked. “A Death Scythe can cut through anything, hm? Don’t you find that catchphrase a little funny?”

            Grell gritted her teeth. “Well! It’s not funny to me in the very least!”

            “There is one thing, isn’t there?” Undertaker grinned. “One thing that it can’t cut through.”

            “You don’t mean—?!” Ronald’s eyes widened.

            The sotoba still in Undertaker’s control glowed brightly, and magic swirled around them. The sotoba’s silhouette’s combined into a single weapon, and Undertaker sliced through the air in a wide arc. Ronald and Undertaker fell back, blood pouring from wounds on their chests. They groaned and forced themselves to sit up. Everyone’s eyes narrowed on Undertaker.

            “That’s a…Death Scythe!” said Grell in shock.

            Undertaker’s sotoba had disguised his Death Scythe, and now he held it proudly. It was a true scythe, not hidden as any strange contraption. The hilt and staff were crafted into bones and a skull crowned in thorns. The blade shined in the light. Undertaker was just a Grim Reaper, but he stood with the strength and power of the human tales of the Grim Reaper.

            “I see,” said Sebastian. “In the presence of many Death Scythes, the motto that a Death Scythe can cut through anything becomes a falsehood.”

            “And he hid it in the fractures of the sotoba pieces, which is why sometimes they could block a Death Scythe themselves and sometimes not,” said (Y/N).

            “Don’t they get collected unconditionally when a reaper retires?” said Ronald.

            “I found it hard to part with mine as we’d been together for so long. ‘Twas suuuch trouble sneaking it out with me,” said Undertaker, stroking the blade fondly. He grinned and raised his Scythe. “Now! Shall I try hunting you down instead?” He smirked. “Just like the pitiful rabbits in the hunt you are?”

            He slammed his blade down, and the arc of its power slashed trough the columns and walls of the room. A piece of the balcony broke, and a landslide of tables and chairs fell down toward the group. Sebastian caught several, and (Y/N) broke any that nearly hit them, retreating to the staircase across from the falling furniture. Sebastian threw a volley of tables at Undertaker.

            “It’s no use!” said the silver-haired reaper with a grin and neat flick of his wrist. The tables fell to pieces at his feet. “Slicing tables is no different than breaking biscuits!” He blinked when the falling wood revealed no Sebastian in front of him.

            Sebastian slid into position behind him. “I simply wanted to get inside the wide reach of your Scythe.”

            Before he could attack, though, Undertaker turned and slashed at him. Sebastian sprung backwards, narrowly avoiding a cut from the deadly blade. He kicked up, and Undertaker was forced to jump up into the air in a flip.

            “You thought up an amusing notion, Master Butler!” said Undertaker as he flipped. “Then…I shall do the same!”

            Undertaker landed behind (Y/N) and raised his Scythe. Sebastian’s eyes widened, and his dead heart clenched in an unpleasant feeling of fear. (Y/N) twisted, but he grabbed their collar and dragged them to him. “Now, this is an amusingly familiar situation!” (Y/N) damn near hissed and flashed at him with their claws, but he threw them away carelessly.

            “I knew you would come,” said Undertaker with a dark grin.

            Sebastian was leaping onto the stairs directly in front of him, every instinct propelling him forward to kill and maim the man who dared put his hands on Sebastian’s love, his Felis, his, his, his.

            Sebastian pivoted as (Y/N) was thrown, and he threw out a hand to them. They reached back for him. So close, so close—

            Sebastian gasped as Undertaker struck down, and his Death Scythe sunk through Sebastian.

            “Humans are weak and frail, but it is surprisingly difficult to drag oneself through a human life…Master Butler,” said Undertaker. “You seeee, I’ve always been most curious why the likes of a noxious beast such as yourself would be so close to another demon and would play the part of a butler in a tailcoat.” He ripped his Scythe out. “I’ll have you show me your Cinematic Record.”

            Blood and film strips flew from Sebastian’s wound as his mind was thrown into his memories.

            “Corvus!” shouted (Y/N), reaching for him.

            Felis...

Taglist:

@technikerin23

@im-making-an-effort

@izzieg3987

@jinxxangel13

@alexpangender

@otomyoli

@neenieweenie

@nex-crowley

@anxious-chick

@bellacastiel

@v1l-ismissing

@agentdedf1sh

@iamsexytrash

@oceansfloor

@neuvilleteismybb

[chibi-celesti]

Interlude 02-Book 01: Dia Rosa Rudje-Ar Prasrity Fowrlle

Ar Prasrity Fowrlle Gfine anw Revatail

(A moment of Peace)

Synopsis: On the eve of the Unbirthday Party, Meryu tries to bide her time to calm her soul and worries over what may happen next. What she didn’t know was that someone else was watching her from the shadows.

A special interlude dedicated to a moment between two people who don’t know each other yet, but one day will soon.

~Twisted Tonelico~

Shortly after returning to Ramshackle, Meryu and the boys settled down for the evening. While Ace and Deuce passed out on the sofa, Meryu was still awake; opting to spend time outside to calm her frayed nerves. 

The evening was cool, calm even. Meryu still couldn’t believe this is what the land beneath felt like. She remembered her guardian Shurelia telling her tales of what their world used to be like back in Platina. Those were things she could only imagine in her dreams back then. But now, seeing it and feeling the caress of the wind on her body was therapeutic. And real.

But then there's tomorrow…

Tomorrow will be my first Unbirthday Party here. And my first formal event without Lady Shurelia to guide me… she thought to herself. I wonder how she would react to me being in an all boy's academy? A smile appeared on her face. She'd probably have a panic attack and tear Mr. Crowley a new one.

She laughed to herself at the image. A fiery, livid Shurelia shouting at the magnanimous Head Mage, and two seconds away from ‘Ka-Boom'-ing the man to bits.

As Meryu continued to think about her guardian and only true family, she started to whisper a little tune to herself.

(~Lyrnya grrena anw bale,

Bautifal ciel burle~)

She swayed with the wind, whispers turning into humming to herself without a care, not minding if a soul were to see her and mock her for her naivete.

(~Was yea ra chanti fowrlle en hartes grlanza fhyu~)

(~Hyma en chs fedyya bexm, iasien sol dea houd frawr chiess herr~)

The longer she swayed with the wind, the more it enticed her to dance with it; the more she danced with the wind, the more her humming became singing.

~Mea eux na idesy sor, den~

~Was yea ra vit yora riura won manafaln dor~

(~Was yea ra vit waath oz hartes dor.~)

She sang of beautiful days, warm and hopeful tomorrow's. Not just for herself but for the world. It was something she always did.

~Mea oriye na idesy sor, dea~

~Was yea erra reen yora hynne tek manafaln ciela, an mean.~

(~Was yea erra reen dilete oz hartes ciela~)

Her little soliloquy was a performance that enamored the trees, the wind, and a few critters that traversed the campus. All either accompanied her in her song or swayed to the melodious waves of each lyric.

Her performance even caught the attention of someone who hid in the shadows. They have never met this young woman before, but it felt as though they have. Something about her voice sounded familiar to them, but they couldn't quite put their finger on it.

Curious yet mesmerized by Meryu's dance and voice, they felt like they were placed under a spell, but they did not fear. In fact, they loved it. A sudden sense of Déjà vu sent shivers throughout their body.

The shadowy figure couldn't help but hum along with the young woman's song. A part of them longing to reach out and dance with her like the wind is. But their feet were rooted to the spot; they couldn't move at all, afraid of disturbing her performance and scaring her off.

And just as she was at the precipice of her song, someone else's voice cut through and disturbed the peace. The stranger quickly hid themselves further into the shadows at the same time.

“Minion, it's late! We can't miss the Unbirthday Party, remember?”

Meryu halted in her steps, turning to the culprit that called her name, annoyed she was disturbed. “I'll be there in a moment, Grim!” Once Grim was back in the Dorm, she sighed in lament. He's right, I need to get some rest… She starts walking back to the front entrance, giving the stars one last glance before walking in the building.  I hope you're ok, Lady Shurelia.  I miss you so much…

In her ascension to the door, Meryu had sung to herself one more time.

~Wee yea ra hymme yanje revm,

Sol ammue zaarn, wi innna near burle.~

~Wee yea ra hymme yanje revm,

Yor irs, wi dor yeal folten…~

She closed the door, ignoring the silent tears falling down her face.

‘So this dorm is now inhabited?’ The stranger thought. They felt disappointed that their favorite place on campus is no longer vacant. They inwardly sighed. ‘Looks like I will have to find another place for myself.’

In a blink of an eye, they vanished  with not a single trace of their presence left behind, except for a glimmer of glowing green lights.

And the echoes of the Reyvateil’s lullaby from their lips.

[bruggle]

Why are one-shots so easy for me to write? THESE PLOTS WILL NOT LEAVE ME ALONE.

Again, this is for @absolutely-normal-about-x 's fantastic au. I'm sorry if you're getting tired of it, I just love it so much.

Just a note, though... uh... this follows within the au of an au like St. Clarity.

Constellations

Phantom takes a moment to reflect

Words: 3k

"Cause like constellatons

A million years away

Every good intention

Every good intention

Is interpolation

The lines we drew in the array

Looking for the faces

Looking for the shapes

In the silence"

-Constellations, The Oh Hellos

  Nights were always the quietest for Phantom.

  Even with Fefnir’s insistent snoring, it was still quieter during the late hours of the evening than any other point on the Flutter. Not that Phantom really minded, of course. No, he quite liked the regular chaos of the house boat. Made all the ways he messed with the inhabitants easier to get away with, after all! But, there were times when he wanted to get away from it. To think. To reflect.

  Of course, he’d occasionally be joined by Volnutt or his father. Volnutt, ever eager to learn more about his older brother, and X being concerned that Phantom felt left out; middle child syndrome, he called it. Phantom wasn’t all that concerned, to be frank. He was, after all, used to being invisible. Both due to his more cunning nature in having been programed for spy work, as well as the… rather poor treatment he and his siblings had faced in Neo Arcadia. They were leaders; Guardians. Not meant to be treated as the children they imitated. It was… a welcomed change to go from that to this more peaceful existence.

  He thinks he’d rather die than face another human.

  Well, that’s not entirely true.

  While it had been a shock to him and his three older siblings, X revealing the fact that they had an older, human sister had been an… interesting one to say the least. But… if she had at least in part been raised by X, then surely she couldn’t be anywhere near as awful as the humans of Neo Arcadia, right? Phantom had had the passing thought of wanting to meet her. Just to see. He wouldn’t be holding his breath, of course. But it would be nice to know that not all of humanity was as callused and cruel as those of his time.

  (He supposed Ciel was an exception. But… well… he didn’t like to think about the reason she had felt the need to leave. -Copy X-)

  Regardless, it had been a further shock when it was revealed that passing thought wasn’t quite as impossible as Phantom had figured. Someway, somehow, Brook had wound up as a cyber elf. Not even X was quite sure how it happened. Perhaps it was the fact that she had been surrounded by the reploids of Maverick Hunter HQ when she had been killed in the explosions Wiel caused just before Omega had fallen the first time. Or maybe just the fact of how much time she had spent in the company of reploids in general; lightanium had a weird sort of radiation it emitted that wasn’t fully understood. Dr. Light himself had been considered the progenitor of cyber elves in X’s time, after all.

  Either way, she was here. The fact only being revealed thanks to Volnutt’s carelessness during a dig. Phantom’s baby brother had gotten himself stuck in the deep recesses of a ruin with a particularly strong connection cyberspace. Unfortunately, he had busted up his communication devices in the process of getting stuck. Brook, as a ‘Spirit’ (as the carbons called them; the knowledge of cyber elves being lost to time,) had led Volnutt out of the dig site. It had been a particularly strong surge of energy that had changed her from the glowing orbs carbons normally saw cyber elves as, into a more… humanoid shape. Volnutt had recognized her from the photo he had uncovered a month ago, causing him to tell X as soon as the youngest member of the family had made his way out of the ruins.

  X had immediately ran into the ruins in a bid to find her.

  (Phantom didn’t think such relief could exist. He knew without a doubt, that if it had been him or any of his siblings, X would do the same and more for them.) -Copy X hadn’t even blinked when he had learned of Phantom’s death.-

 He had, of course, returned with a glowing orb in tow. (Phantom had asked if he was certain this orb was her over the thousands of other elves hanging around the ruins; X had just said he knew. The younger carbon never challenged his father on it again.) At that point, X had worked tirelessly with Barrell on recreating a device that would allow carbons to see and communicate with cyber elves. Mush like humans had in Phantom’s time. He specifically recalled the headset Ciel had worn during her time as a scientist.

  -He’d be lying if he said he didn’t consider sabotaging it once or twice.-

  When they had finally finished it, X had spent hours talking with Brook. Heck, he had spent days. Barely sleeping, barely eating. Everyone had been worried. But eventually, X had emerged. He apologized for the scare, of course, but it had turned out that whatever it was that had caused Brook to become a cyber elf hadn’t… agreed with her. She had lost nearly all sense of identity and memory in the transition. It had taken literal centuries for her to remember as much as she had. And she was still fuzzy on certain details.

  X had then allowed all of them a turn with the headset to properly meet her. Phantom supposed she had been nice enough, but a part of him would have preferred to have passed on his turn. He didn’t care if it was wrong for him to think that way.

  But… she was technically his sister.

  That had to count for something.

  A light out of Phantom’s peripheral vision shook him out of his musings. A part of him was slightly annoyed at the interruption, but he quickly shoved it down. Brook settled down besides him, flashing brighter in order to convey her desire to talk. X had long since worked yet again with Barrell to both simplify as well as produce extra communication devises so that everyone could talk to Brook at all times. Now, rather than a bulky headset, they had simplified it into an earpiece with a visor extending from it.

  (“Hey, this looks like a scanner from Dragon Ball Z!” Fefnir had noted. “What’s Dragon Ball Z?” Volnutt had asked. Phantom didn’t think his older brother would ever forgive the blue clad carbon for that.)

  X and Volnutt practically had their glued to their face; X being the dutiful father that he is, and Volnutt being his curious self. Wanting to know everything he possibly could about his newest, oldest sibling. Phantom kept his off nearly all the time. If anybody noticed, they never said anything.

  -Harpuia knew. He always knows.-

  In any case, when the insistent flashing didn’t cease, Phantom finally, begrudgingly, put on his device. -He hesitated switching on, though.-

  “Do you know any of the constellations?” Brook quietly asked when he turned to her. He was… surprised by such a simple question. The purple clad carbon had figured there’d be an interrogation.

  “…No,” Phantom answered just as quietly. “They never thought it worth teaching us. Couldn’t really see the stars anyways."

 “’They’?” Brook asked.

  “…Neo Arcadia’s researchers,” he hesitantly explained. “They got to decide what was worth us knowing and what wasn’t. Couldn’t even sneak around them.” He couldn’t even sneak around them. They had placed inhibitors on himself and his siblings that didn’t allow them access to the archives without the presence of an approved archivist. And they always made sure none of the more sympathetic ones were approved. Brook made a sort of humming sound. -Did she agree with them?-

  “Would you like to?” she asked. Phantom turned to her, surprised. -Not that he’d show it.- “…I guess,” he said. Please. Brook gave him a small smile, gently floating closer to his face. (She was still the same size as her orb form; they were far away from any sort of cybernetic connection, after all.) “You see that cluster of stars there?” she asked, pointing to a specific part of the sky. “The one that looks like a weird rectangle?” It took Phantom a minute, but he eventually found the stars she was talking about. It did look like a weird rectangle. He nodded. “Okay, now that bottom corner,” she continued, pointing to one of the stars. “Do you see the trail of stars that look like an obtuse angle?” These were a little trickier to find, as Phantom wasn’t quite sure which corner she ha been talking about; but when he did, it was pretty obvious. He nodded again. “That is the Big Dipper,” Brook explained. “It’s a part of a bigger constellation, Ursa Major, but I think some of the stars for her died out. I can’t see them.”

   “Her?” Phantom asked. Brook nodded. “Yep,” she replied. “Her. Ursa Major, Mother Bear. Well, Major just means big, but that’s her role. All the constellations have a story associated with them.”

  “They do?” the dark haired carbon asked. “What’s hers?”

  Brook let out a small laugh. “How much do you know about Greek mythology?” she queried.

  “Just the gods and their roles,” Phantom muttered. Brook nodded. “That’s enough,” she said. “Maybe some other time we can go more in depth on those, if you want.” -He thinks he’d like that.-

  “Okay, so,” Brook continued. “A woman by the name of Calisto caught the attention of Zeus, who proceeded to do what he is most famous for.” Phantom pulled a face at that. “Which in turn, lead to his wife, Hera, finding out. In order to protect Calisto from Hera’s wrath, Zeus turned the woman into a bear. However, Hera waited until Calisto’s son, Arcus, was grown in order to lead him to the bear.

  He was a mighty hunter by that time, so he was determined to kill Calisto; not knowing she was his mother. In order to protect them both, Zeus turned Arcus into a bear as well; then flung them into the sky to keep them out of Hera’s reach. Thus, they became Ursa Major and Ursa Minor.”

  “Where’s Ursa Minor?” Phantom asked.

  “Okay, so the other bottom corner of the Big Dipper,” Brook pointed out; Phantom immediately zeroed in on the star she was talking about. “Now, look north from that point; you’ll see a big, bright star.” Phantom did as Brook instructed, eventually seeing the star she was pointing out. “That’s the North Star,” she explained. “It always points north; no matter what time of the year. It’s what people used to navigate by night before the invention of compasses.”

  “What does this have to do with Ursa Minor?” Phantom interrupted. -He already knew about the North Star. Only because it was useful.- Brook let out an awkward chuckle. “Sorry,” she sheepishly murmured. “It’s kind of my favorite. It’s also the tail tip of Ursa Minor.”

  Oh.

  “Okay, so if you look up from the North Star,” she continued. “You’ll see something that looks like a warped, smaller version of the Big Dipper.” Phantom followed her directions until he came across the stars she was talking about. “That’s Ursa Minor?” he asked.

  She nodded. “It’s also known as the Little Dipper.”

  Phantom let out a small hum. He could see what she meant by ‘warped’. The handle for the Little Dipper had a much stranger shape than the Big Dipper. “So they really didn’t let you learn anything on your own?’ Brook suddenly spoke up. “In Neo Arcadia, I mean.”

  “…No,” Phantom answered. -He didn’t want to talk about it.-

  “Man, that sucks,” Brook muttered, and Phantom had had enough.

  “Don’t act like you know,” he hissed. “You don’t know anything. You’ve been free your whole life!” Brook gave him a bewildered look. “I didn’t say I did,” she replied carefully.

  “You don’t have to,” Phantom snarled, glaring at her. “You act like a false sense of sympathy makes everything better! You all do! But you’ve never been through anything like this in your life! And you never would have!”

  Brook took in a deep breath, before letting it out in a sigh. -This was a mistake. He should take off the visor.- “What makes you think it’s false sympathy?” she asked.

  Phantom gave her an incredulous look. “You’ve never been through it,” he reiterated. “And never will.”

  Brook nodded. “That’s true,” she said. “But that’s not necessarily ‘false sympathy’. It’s empathy. Something all pack animals have, humans included.”

  “Fat lot of good that has done for reploids,” Phantom growled. The cyber elf gave a small shrug. “Fat lot of good it’s done for humanity,” she shot back. “I mean, you have to remember; humanity has had a long, long, long, history of cruelty. You weren’t the first.”

  “And that makes it any better?” Phantom snarked.

  “Not by a long shot,” Brook said. “But I don’t think it was humanity on it’s own. At my time, humanity and reploids were almost there. We were almost to what X wanted for both. But… I also remember all the support Weil got before everything went to shit. How else do you think he got his grubby hand’s on Zero’s original body? The stuff that went down at Neo Arcadia sounds a lot like what he wanted.

  “X… put too much faith into people. I get he was hurting, but I’m quite sure that a lot of the old coot’s supporters took advantage of his apathy.”

  “You’re making excuses,” Phantom accused.

  “Maybe,” Brook sighed. “Or maybe I’m just trying to figure out how it got so bad.”

  Phantom was silent for a minute. “You… said things were better before the Elf Wars?” he hesitantly asked. The cyber elf gave a small smile. “Yeah, I mean,” she started. “Mavericks were still a problem, so there was still a little trepidation, but… there were also a lot of people coming around to it. Did X ever tell you that I was almost adopted by a reploid sheriff?”

  “Sheriff?” asked Phantom. “What’s that?”

  Brook let out a laugh. “They’re like police, only voted in by an entire county rather than hired,” she explained. “Not just anyone can be sheriff. You have to be well liked, otherwise you lose your job. Tern had been sheriff of his county for nearly fifteen years. Lots of people respected him. And that was out in the middle of nowhere. Cities were usually a little more open to that sort of thing.”

  That… surprised Phantom. A reploid with a job that relied on them being liked and respected by their human peers? Unheard of. “Why should I believe you?” he asked.

  “I mean, you’re free to believe what you want,” she shrugged. “But there’s not much of a point for me to lie, either. The second you find out, you’d hate me even more. I’d rather not have that.”

  “…I don’t hate you,” Phantom whispered. Brook gave him a sympathetic look. “Maybe not,” she said. “But you resent what I am. Er, was. Sorry, this cyber elf business is still really weird to me.” Phantom gave a weak smile. -She was right.- “Why?” he asked. “Why did human’s do it?”

  “I don’t know,” Brook answered quietly. “But, one thing I do know is that even though humanity has had cruelty forever, we’ve also had love. Even small things. And it’s a lot more important to remember that.”

  Small things?

  Phantom recalled one of the archivists he had known. (One of the more sympathetic ones. He had liked her.) It had been a day or two after their activation; he had been begging her for more time in the archives. Something she could not allow. And yet… when he had returned to his quarters later that night, he had found a book, a blank notebook, and writing utensil on his charging station. The book had been about panthers; something definitely not on the approved list for he and his siblings. Phantom had spent the entire night carefully copying the book word for word within the blank sheets of paper. He had then carefully hidden the notebook and writing utensil where nobody else would ever possibly find them.

  The next morning, they had confiscated the book.

  He never saw the woman again.

  Was that what Brook was talking about?

  “Why?” Phantom asked. Brook looked over at him; he could tell she didn’t quite know what he was asking. "Why were you okay with reploids?”  

  “’Cuz there was love on both sides,” Brook said. “X… X did a lot for me. Even if I didn’t fully appreciate it at the time. I can’t thank him enough. And Axl was my brother; he was nothing but kind to me even when I was a little shit. But oh, we made X’s life a living hell for the fun of it.” Phantom let out a laugh at that. He’s heard about all the sorts of mischief his uncle Axl had gotten into. “Zero… I didn’t know him  very well. But I knew he cared. Even if he didn’t always show it. And then Om-“ Brook stopped herself.

  “Who?” Phantom asked.

  “It’s… nothing,” Brook hesitantly insisted. “Just… Look. I worked with reploids, lived with reploids, I cared about a lot of them. And I wasn’t alone in how I saw them. There were a lot of people both taken in by and raising reploids by my time. Maybe… maybe if Weil hadn’t been able to do half of what he did, things would have been better.”

  Maybe they would have. But they didn’t.

  “In any case,” the auburn haired elf continued. “Please, talk to X about it.”

  Phantom felt his spine straighten. “I’m fine,” he insisted. Brook snorted. “Yeah, I thought so too,” she argued. “But I promise, you’re not.”

  “What do you know?” the purple clad carbon snapped.

  “Dude, I was fourteen years old when my parents died,” Brook said with a raised brow. “And wound up overhearing that it happened almost immediately after my dad got home from dropping me off from school. You know what that does to someone? Especially when they had the chance to have done something different? I could have had him turn the car around when I realized I forgot my coat. I could have been there.

  “For a while, I thought I should have been there,” she murmured. “But… that’s called survivor’s guilt. And it’s a type of trauma. You have a type of trauma.”

  -He didn’t care.-

  “Why do you care?” Phantom muttered.

  “Because I’m your sister,” Brook replied simply. “And you shouldn’t be facing it alone. That does nothing but hurt the people who love you.”

 

 

 

  What could he say to that?

 

 

  What did he want to say to that?

 

 

 

  -He doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to.-

  “Can you show me more constellations?” He asks instead, hoping to maybe distract her from those ridiculous notions.

  Brook gives a sigh, but slowly floats back to her position next to his head.

  “Alright,” she says. “Just please give it some thought?”

  -Maybe.-

[insertpoetryhere]

Dadbastian Week: Identity

Wow look at that, posting the prompt on the day I'm supposed to. A thing I totally always do.

Anyways this is for @dadbastianweek2023 and let it be known I had a blast writing this and sneaking in things from an AU I will probably never write.

The Mighty Fall

Sebastian had been alive for more than a millenia. 

And no matter how long that seemed in the eyes of a human, it was even longer to the demon who had been forced to endure it.

There was no good way to spend a thousand years. When he had been mortal, the idea of living so long had been a fantasy. But the only reason why it was desirable was because it was supposed to be impossible. A 30 year old merchant could dream of living forever as much as he wanted, that didn’t mean he would ever get the opportunity.

How stupid he would feel now if only he knew.

The marvel of immortality faded the first time Sebastian got hungry. It was a different type of hunger, one that wouldn’t ever grant him the release of death if he couldn’t satisfy it.

And satisfy it he did. It only takes a few decades for whatever imitation of guilt he had once had to make way to pleasure. The hunt was fun, but the shaping of a soul was even more entertaining. Sebastian had convinced kings to behead their queens, mothers to drown their own children, pious men to burn entire cities to the ground in the name of a god that they would never meet.

A soul was sweeter when you were what caused it to fall so far.

As said before, there is no good way to spend a thousand years. But he had possibly found and delighted in every single bad way to do it.

Which is what made his current state so ironic.

Sebastian held up the crystal glass he was polishing up to the light, humming a little tune he had been adding little bits and pieces to while he looked for any spots he missed. The rest of the household was fast asleep, his favorite time of the day since it meant there was no one in his way for the next few hours.

In that time he had managed to reorganize the pantry, beat out the rug in the foyer, and now he had even finished polishing the nice crystal (which mostly just collected dust in a cupboard since the young master felt the set was “too flashy”). He placed the glass back in its proper place, feeling very self satisfied as the dinnerware glittered even in the darkest corners of the cupboard.

That's when he felt the faintest pull in his chest.

He sighed, a glove hand placing itself over where a human heart would be without him telling it to do so. “It’s just a dream.” He said seemingly to no one.

There was another, stronger tug.

“Go back to sleep.” He nearly begged, thinking of the list of chores he still needed to do.

The next one was like a dagger, sharp and impossible to ignore when it passed through him.

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Damn it all to hell-” 

He grabbed his candle off of the kitchen counter and made his way upstairs, secretly hoping that the sensation in his chest would ease away as the subject faded back to sleep. That hope faded when he heard the screaming from the hallway, traveling through the thick mahogany door despite the fact that Ciel didn’t need to be loud to get the job done.

“-BASTIAN!” The frenzied screaming hit his ears like a freight train as he opened the door without knocking (there was no point in doing so, since there was no way Ciel would hear him over his own cries). “SEBASTIAN!”

“Yes my lord?” Sebastian nearly had to yell just to be heard. “I’m here!”

He rushed to his young master’s bedside, but didn’t dare move any closer than that as Ciel’s screams died and turned into desperate pants and heaving breaths. The boy’s wild eyes flicked to him, like he wasn’t sure who was talking to him.

“You’re alright, my lord. It was just a dream, you’re s-” Sebastian choked on his words. He brought a hand up to his neck as he realized that what he was about to say technically wasn’t true. Ciel wasn’t “safe” by any means.

Especially not with him.

“... You are unharmed.” He amended, his voice softer now that he didn’t need to fight to be heard.

Ciel’s eyes focused a little more, though he was still clearly dazed from whatever horror he had been forced to relive. Sebastian waited patiently for an order, whether it be to stay there until he fell back asleep or to go away and never speak of this again.

But Ciel did neither. Rather, in one quick motion that would have been almost too fast for a normal human to process, Ciel launched himself at Sebastian. His arms wrapped around Sebastian’s neck, pulling him down to his level and forcing him to drop to one knee to avoid losing his balance. The candle that was in his hand fell to the ground, the force of impact smothering the flame and leaving them in total darkness.

Sebastian tensed, at first presuming the action to be an attack. He made an attempt to gently remove Ciel, but paused when the movement only made Ciel cling to his shoulders harder.

“NO!” He screamed too close to Sebastian’s ear, his voice weak with sobs as he pressed his face into Sebastian’s jacket.

… Ah. Sebastian thought to himself, a strange uncertainty creeping up his spine. Not an attack..

Sebastian cleared his throat, moving his arms and hesitantly allowing them to wrap around the boy’s torso. Ciel took the shift in position as an open invitation to bury himself even deeper into Sebastian’s embrace, hiding his face fully in the safety of Sebastian’s shoulder.

Sebastian allowed him to stay like that for a few minutes before attempting to pull back once more. The movement was met with much less resistance this time, with Ciel only whining pitifully as he felt Sebastian start to pull away. Still, it was enough to convince Sebastian to stay put.

It was hardly appropriate for a butler to cradle his master like a toddler. Of course Sebastian knew that. But Ciel seemed to need it and no one else was around to witness their lapse in manners, so really what was the harm?

Carefully, he lifted both himself and his young master up onto the bed in hopes that a more comfortable position might help the child soothe himself back to sleep. Ciel sniffled as he settled himself against Sebastain’s chest, a blanket now thrown over his shoulders. His grip around Sebastain’s neck relaxed, making it easier for Sebastian to turn them in a way that would make it easier to settle Ciel back against his pillow once sweeter dreams finally took him.

“There, there.” He whispered, Ciel’s dark hair soft against his chin as he rested it on the top of the boy’s head. A feeling almost like nausea washed over him as he rocked the crying boy back and forth as if he were a baby. “You mustn't work yourself up like this.”

The two stayed like that for another fifteen minutes, with Sebastain shushing Ciel until he could feel his breaths even out and his heart rate slow down. Sebastian stopped rocking, but still didn’t move until he could hear Ciel’s soft snores, barely audible as they were muffled against the thick material of his jacket. Carefully, he peeled the sleeping boy off of him and laid him back down against his favorite pillow. He took the thick comforter and pulled it all the way up to Ciel’s chin, tucking him in firm enough to stave off the cold autumn air that sometimes snuck its way through to cracks in the window frame. 

Sebastian once leveled cities and erased entire bloodlines from the face of the earth. 

Now he comforts little boys when they’ve had nightmares and rocks them back to sleep once he’s done.

He leaned down, picking up the candle he had dropped when Ciel hugged him. He stared at it, still making out every detail despite the darkness surrounding him. He grimaced in disgust.

Oh, how the mighty fall.

[ocielsdemon]

The Queens Guard Dog and the Outsider

Word count: 718

My world burned. Such as the manor that happened four years ago. Ah yes, the manor. Phantomhive manor, where the estate was filled with laughter and smiles. Where shall I even begin..?

“Ciel!” I called out to my betrothed. We were walking along the sidewalk in the city of London along with his butler, Sebastian. A pair of lovely blue flats caught my eye. He turned around and our eyes met, the dark blue eye stared at me with a hint of annoyance.

“What Isadora?” He answered with the tone of irritation being easily spotted. Today, it was supposed to be about us connecting, however I find that hard to believe. I took a deep breath and simply smiled, putting on such a false smile perhaps he could even tell.

“I was wondering if you would accompany me into the shoe shop..” I could feel him almost looking through me. My teeth chewed the corner of my bottom lip as I waited for his response.

“I suppose why not.” He replied. I smiled widely as he pointed with his cane to the shoe shop, signaling to the jet black butler, Sebastian, to open the door for me. Sebastian grabbed hold of the handle and pulled the door wide open, giving me a smile. I smiled back as I entered the shop.

I browsed around the shop with gleaming eyes. ‘Gosh…every pair looks beautiful. Heels..can I even wear those considering Ciel wears them..?’ I thought to myself as I stared at the pair of heels for a moment.

“Are those to your liking Isa?” My betrothed questioned me with the nickname I so loved, I could never tell if in his heart he truly meant it. I lied to him and formed a disgust face at the shoes then scoffed.

“Those heels? They’re revolting.” I crossed my arms and walked away from the beautiful emerald green heels. The last pair too. The biggest fattest lie had escaped past my lips.I adored heels. But I don’t want Ciel to be the shorter one than me. He forces himself so much to remain tall and the face of Phantomhive. I sighed and walked out of the shop.

As we walked the streets of London, I began to think back of the past. When we were first betrothed. Mother and father had told me that my duty was to marry the Earl Phantomhive. But I was young. I still am. How I sobbed my heart out that night.

My duty is to marry the Queens Guard Dog.

“Since your family is in Germany, you shall be in my estate for a short period of time.” Ciel spoke to me in the carriage as we rode back to his manor in the outskirts of London. I nodded seeing how the curtains were covering the windows.

“Yes. My apologies Ciel.” An apology slipped out. He cocked his head to the side with a puzzled look plastered on his face.

“Your apologies for?” He questioned. I looked up at him, then replied; “for not being able to convince my family to take me.”

A long pause. He looked out the carriage window and rested his face on the palm of the hand. “It was out of your control.” Is what he simply said. What a boorish boy.

Once we arrived at the manor, Ciel got off first, then offered his hand. I gently placed my palm on his and his hand tightened his grip on me. I got off the carriage and let go of his hand, then walked up the stairs of the manor.

It was difficult for me to comprehend just how the manors details remained, as if it never burned down four years ago. However, what did not remain was Ciel. He never became the giggly boy I once knew. Cold and distant, small talk, barely acknowledges my presence. As a matter of fact, he acknowledges the presence of the butler rather than me, his betrothed.

Once the doors of the manor opened, I was greeted by the house maid, Mey-Rin. “Greetings Lady Isadora! Shall I escort you to your chambers?” The kind red haired woman asked me. I smiled and nodded. “Yes please.” As I wanted to be farther away from Ciel’s side. I couldn’t stand to be with him any second longer.

Once we were in my room, I sat down at the soft cushioned chair and let out a deep sigh held in me since the beginning of the day. “My lady? Is everything alright?” Mey-Rin asked with uncertainty in the tone of her voice. I couldn’t keep it in much longer.

“No, I’m tired of being betrothed to a stranger.”

A/N AHHH OKAY THIS IS MY FIRST FANFIC SO I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOYED THE FIRST PART😔🙏🙏I’ll take any tips lowkey😔✋

[dreamer213]

Broken Machines: Between The Shadows

Chapter 13: Jazztassic Throwdown

The rest of that day seemed to go by so quickly after that. Ciel didn’t say much after she finally stopped crying, but they managed to finish the exam. They re-exchange contact information because Penny leaves. She had never known how Ciel reacted to her presumed death, not even an inkling until now. It was surreal watching the recognition, pain, and joy erupt from Ciel in succession like that. She had never been so emotional in front of Penny before but seeing it made her feel oddly happy but also guilty. All that time she had been carrying all that grief for absolutely no reason. Logical she knows this isn’t either of their faults, her survival was miraculous and unexpected! And it seems the ripper effect it caused was still making new waves or rather Penny was realizing there were more out there than she ever thought there could be.

She vents a very curated version of her woes to Whitley later that night. Explaining how Ciel used to look after her and thought her injury had been fatal only to now realize she was alive and well. How she had cried a lot when she realized Penny was okay and couldn’t stop for a long time.

Penny: I’ve never seen her like that before, it felt strange in a good way. Like seeing how sad she was made me realize how much she genuinely cared for and missed me.

She says with a conflicted smile. Whitley doesn’t respond immediately as if he needed a second to absorb the knowledge that someone could react this way was a little too foreign for him to understand. After too long of a pause Penny gets a little worried but just as she’s about to ask if he’s okay Whitley perks up again.

Whitley: Sorry got a little lost in thought. But it’s great that you two could reunite after all that… I’m glad you have someone looking out for you like that.

His voice is chipper but there’s a tinge of sadness underlying the tone. Penny does not like this, but she gets it, Whitley has no one to look after him or miss him the way Ciel did for Penny so hearing about this must be disheartening, not that he would tell her that. But before he can change the subject Penny pulls out the concert tickets.

Penny: I also got these!

She waves the tickets in the camera view. Earlier she had debated with herself on who to bring with her but at this moment there was no contest.

Was it primarily because she turned to putty whenever her boyfriend was even a little too sad for her liking? Yes, but that was the nature of the beast that is being a doting girlfriend.

Almost two weeks later Whitley had hit a lucky streak, Jacques would be away the night of the concert into the following morning, and quite a few staff members had taken the night off, so he’d have no trouble sneaking out. Cut to the Saturday of the show, Jacques has already left the building and Whitley is sitting at his desk blazing through a mountain of paperwork, a passionate glint in his eyes as he slashes through form after form.

Whitley: Just a few more...just a few more.

He chants in his head, trying to keep his spirits up as he closes in on the last of his work for the week! If he could get this done, then there’d be nothing stopping him from enjoying the night ahead! Even if his wrist begins to ache and his lower back goes numb from lack of motion he presses on.

Whitley: Just one more!

He chants inwardly as he feverishly looks over the last document in his pile and files it out.

Whitley: Done!

He slams the paper onto the pile and shoots up from his desk! Streaking out as his body readjusts out of its sitting position. There was still a lot of prep to do before he went out but the rush of finishing this avalanche of documents had given him a second wind.

Whitley: Let’s not waste any time.

He straightened up his stack of paperwork before stepping toward his bathroom. Couldn’t go out on an evening date without freshening up first.

Down in Mantle Penny is also getting ready for the concert. She had done some research beforehand and prepped quite a bit in the lid up to the night off. She’s stocked up on water, tissues, and hand sanitizer, had their ride to show figured out, and picked out an outfit fit for the weather and venue. Now the troublesome part was doing her hair and makeup.

You see, Team FNKI is a neo-jazz/swing band. Their music was very vibrant and poppy, just like the bandmate's aesthetics. Their stage setup was usually bright with neon lights, they wore dust-infused costumes and used their semblances during their solos in fantastical displays of rhythm and power. Thus, their fan base would come dressed in one or both sides of the band’s aesthetic. Some came in bright streetwear, some in classy jazz club attire, or a mix of both.

Penny didn’t have much that matched either comfortably, but after looking through some old and new clothes she managed to pull together something fitting. She found a pair of her old stockings with glowing green stripes, borrowed some glowing power button pins from her dad, and got some thick black satin ribbon to upstyle her chosen outfit. Turning the pins into earrings, helping her dad make a heart-shaped pin to add to the bow of her headband, and lacing the ribbon through the sleeves of her pink cardigan were great after-work crafts. It was so much fun doing metal working with her dad and calling Ciel for advice on the sleeves since hers were what inspired her.

All said and done her concert ensemble was perfect! For Penny's taste at least. But then there was the makeup. She’d asked around for some ideas, she’d actually had to beg Octavia not to send her a year’s worth of cosmetics and had figured out a pretty good image to go for.

After getting partially dressed before washing and towel drying her face, Penny grabs out her newly purchased cosmetics container. Her selection was vested or luxurious, the most expensive thing she had in there was a palette gifted by Octavia months ago, but it had all the essentials. Brushes, lipstick, gloss, eyeshadows, liners, blush and nail polish of various were all present in limited amounts. But that was fine, she had enough for her needs and whims.

Penny: Alright let's get started!

She chirps to herself, propping up a small mirror on her bedroom floor and sitting down with her makeup case. Gathering her materials and looking herself dead on in the mirror, Penny begins her private beauty session. Starting with the most detailed intense work, Penny applies some sparkle-filled black eyeshadow to both her eyelids but only three-quarters of them. Then she goes in with an equally shimmery blush pink to cover the rest. Next is lipstick, first a hot pink on the top lip and outlining the bottom lip then fill in the rest with a softer pink. Lastly, a touch of blush and it's done! It’s not professional but still bright and poppy like she wanted it.

But it’s not over yet! Now it’s hair time!

Getting her whole head an initial brush before sectioning off two long strands from right behind her ears, Penny swoops the hair to one side and ties the section into a side ponytail. Brushing it out again, she rolls the ponytail into a bun and then secures it with a rubber band and bobby pins. Once it’s in place she adds an assortment of hairpins she’d picked up while shopping for supplies. Or rather the contents of a box of hair accessories for little girls she saw in the shop window of a tween accessory shop on the way home.

Hey, who said robots were immune to impulse buying?

She puts a total of four pins in, a treble cleft, a blue flower, a white butterfly, and a smiling kitty.

But that wasn’t her only find at that techno-colored store. To top off her look Penny pulls out the finishing touch, neon glow-in-the-dark nail polish!

Using the two-coat method from the nail kit’s instruction packet Penny applies a nice layer of green polish, lets it dry, and then adds a coat of clear setting polish. When her nails are fully dried Penny jumps up off the floor and runs to turn off her bedroom lights. As the darkness engulfs the room her nails shine a bright neon green, eliciting a chorus of excited giggles from the enamored android. She flickers the lights on and off a few times before setting down and putting on the rest of her outfit practically shaking with excitement.

She’d be dressed to the nines before long, no doubt to the delight of her performing friends and her lovely date.

In fact, said date was getting ready himself, dawning a periwinkle plaid pair of slacks with a white long-sleeve dress shirt with the matching plaid vest and long black coat to make his tie and gloves. It’s a damper look and though his gray face mask breaks the aesthetic a little his fake horn-rimmed glasses and light blue cap more than make up for that. As he applies some lip balm and sprays a little cologne on his shirt Mary stands by his bedside in wait. Since Jacques was only going to be out for the night and the probability of him staying long enough to force his intended mark to allow him to stay the night out of hospitality up in the air Whitley needed a lookout.

Whitley: My scroll will be on vibrate, if Father calls you know what to do.

He remarks, putting the cologne bottle down and walking to the door.

Mary: Yes, Young Master.

That’s all that’s said between them before Whitley leaves, Mary does as she was told and holds onto Whitley’s usual scroll before leaving for the kitchen. The manor was abnormally quiet and empty, and she had been given free rein to get a little snack from the main house kitchen. By the time Whitley’s out of the manor Mary’s poured herself a glass of wine and made a mini charcuterie board, things are looking quite lovely but somewhere in the pit of her stomach Mary can feel a pip of dread forming. This night would not end so peacefully.

But this dread had not reached Whitley as he journeyed to their usual meeting spot. Throughout his cab and train ride, he can feel himself smiling behind his mask. He’d never been to a causal concert so this would be a special treat, made even sweeter by the fact that he’d be sharing it with Penny. Vacating the train car as the doors opened Whirlpool couldn’t wait to partake in the exciting night they had ahead of them.

Upon exiting the station, it doesn’t take Whitley more than five seconds to spot Penny waiting for him. The light glow of her accessories made her easy to spot.

Now to some, the first thing they would have noticed about her outfit was how the flow of her black skirt and the tightness of her glowing stockings contoured her legs perfectly and made the uncovered part of her thighs look ever the more supple. Others would have noted how her makeup paired with the LED light of her earrings made her face glow in this almost fantastical way. And a few immediately acknowledged the way her open cardigan hung on her frame made her look extremely huggable.

But being her detail-oriented boyfriend, Whitley Schnee notices all three almost completely at once and springs over to her.

Being used to the way they’ve grown to greet each other Penny embraces him with open arms. She lets him get in close and rests his head on her shoulder as they take each other in but pulls away only a few seconds later when she feels a peck against her neck right above her chocker.

Penny: Ah!

She yelps while pulling back, left hand clasping over the spot Whitley just kissed feeling the remnants of chapstick sticking to her skin. Her shocked gaze is met with Whitley’s teasing smirk as he stares proudly at the little mark he’s left on.

Penny: W-w-what was that for?!!!

She stutters, face flushed with surprise and cheeks puffed in annoyance.

Whitley: Nothing really, I saw something sweet and wanted a taste.

He teases, pinky finger still hooked onto the center of his mask leaving his charming smile in full view to her. He lends in close bringing his lips right over her left ear.

Whitley: You look incredible, twinkling like a little star in the night. Then again, when don’t you? You’re always so brilliant, too brilliant to ever miss.

He whispers, voice playful but earnest. Penny can feel her heart pounding and her head going fuzzy again. If she had any less self-control, she would have kissed the smug look right off his face for being so damn enchanting!

But she couldn’t.

Her lipstick wouldn’t be enough to cover up her taste.

Penny: You look good too.

She replies, her tone a bit dour compared to her earlier spunk and shock. Whitley notes the difference immediately and backs off, instead offering her his arm.

Whitley: Shall we?

He says with a soft smile, the gesture soothes Penny’s nerves, and she clings to him as they go hail a taxi. The ride to the venue is uneventful aside from Penny’s excited bouncing in her seat as they draw closer to the club. Whitley’s unsurprised by her giddiness, she’d been gushing about this group since she’d got the tickets, and from her word and his own personal research Whitley could understand why. The concept of huntsmen musicians using all their talents to put on an amazing show was interesting. Seeing people with physical capabilities and powers far beyond the average person could be a dazzling spectacle. And tonight, he’d get to enjoy that spectacle, maybe even find some inspiration.

Penny: We’re here!

Penny cries as the taxi comes to a stop in front of the night's venue, the Obsidian Inn one of Mantle’s best jazz clubs. The building is dark with illuminated windows, the architecture less modern and more stylish as the front appears covered with pillars with music notes covered into them. It’s almost hard to see as the building is already swamped with people both inside and out. Venders, other concert-goers, and passers-by leave the street clogged up to the point there’s barely a few inches of free space for people to move around each other. Settling up the driver and getting out of the cab, Penny and Whitley hold hands tightly as they try to weave their way through the crowd. But the closer they get the more Whirlpool can feel eyes staring at them, heads turning to guck as they pass, and some stopping in their tracks.

This was not good, so far Whitley had been able to fly under the radar whenever he was in Mantle but it seems that his luck had run out.

Whitley: Just great. This is what I get for dressing up while sneaking out. Damn it.

He curses to himself, shuffling a little faster to try and escape the crowd as soon as possible but he’s stopped by the tug of Penny’s hand on his. Looking behind him, he sees that she’s stopped or rather had been stopped by a girl holding her scroll out and asking for a picture. The girl was about their age and seemed to be awestruck by the huntress in front of her and looking around she wasn’t the only one. Those gazes Whitley had felt earlier were all pointed at Penny, the beloved local heroine Penny.

Now Whitley knew she was well-liked when she’d run into fans during their last two dates, but this was far more intense than either of those times. It seems the sight of the protector out in causal clothing held a central appeal with the public and made her easier to approach.

Whitley: Who would have thought she was this level of celebrity?

Whitley mused, looking on as part of the crowd diverted to swarm Penny for selfies. Said star quickly growing overwhelmed by the attention but far too flattered to turn them away, still, she couldn’t leave her date hanging. Pulling her hand away from his, Penny fishes out one of the tickets from her purse and holds it out to Whitley.

Penny: Go ahead and find our seats, I’ll join you when I’m done with…. all this.

She gestures to the mini crowd forming around her. Whitley nods, whispering a soft “Good luck” before taking his ticket and heading inside. The bounce at the door checks his ticket and lists out the club’s rules of no fighting, underage drinking, drug use, and so on before letting Whitley in. The interior of the club is just as cool and campy as the exterior, the floors are velvet, lights are low aside from the neon trim highlighting the stage and bar area. The seating areas are mostly booths lined against the wall and around the sunken dance floor in front of the stage, with signs set on top of the tables with numbers marking the seating. According to his ticket Whitley and Penny’s table was closest to the stage. Sitting down at the edge of the booth Whitley looks around and takes in his surroundings. It’s a nice club, very chic but casual the usual jazz club feel. As he glances around Whitley notices s familiar face among the sea of people making their way to their seats.

Jemma: Remind me again why the hell you dragged me out here?

Julia: Because I finally got time off and tickets to a good live show, and thought my baby sis could use a night off from studying herself to death.

Jemma: Well, you thought wrong.

Sue: Aw come on Jem Jam lighten up! It’s not every day you get to see a band live like this! Especially not one like FNKI!

Jemma: If you say so.

Yes, there were three familiar faces among the crowd, two of which were far more familiar than the third.

Whitley: Oh crap.

Whitley turns his gaze away and lowers his head, trying not to be noticed as the three women pass by. Unfortunately, Sue starts taking pictures of the club, flailing around to get good shot of the venue. Being over-excited, she accidentally loses her grip on the device, and it slips from her hands and onto the floor. Where it lands right next to Whitley’s feet. He reaches down to try to pick it up and hand it to her before she gets too close, but Sue swiftly dives down in scope up her beloved scroll and their hands touch.

Sue: I got it, I got it! My bad! Thanks, dud-

Sue pauses as she stares into the all-too-familiar pair of blue eyes, one belonging to the young master she served. Her gaze is frozen on him, but his eyes start to drift behind her. Not knowing what to do she follows his gaze and realizes he’s looking at her fluffy upright-in-stock with every strand of fur standing on end tail.

Sue: Oooh no, oh fuck! No!

Sue immediately breaks into a cold sweat as her shock quickly turns into panic at the realization that her job is in danger. Master Jacques was not a fan of fanus in the slightest and Whitley, kind as he was, was still his son. One word and her dreams would come crashing down around her and there was nothing she could do about it.

Tears form in the cracks of her eyes Sue opens her mouth to plead with him, but Whitley grips her hand and holds up a gloved finger to stop her. His eyes looked at her with an intense glint the likes of which she’d never seen before.

Whitley: Listen carefully because I’m not going to repeat myself.

He whispers, his voice is cold as frosting ice, tone sharp like a dagger.

Whitley: You didn’t see me here; I didn’t see you and this never happened. Understand?

He commands with no room for negotiation. Sue nods frantically in the affirmative, Whitley nods back and lets her hand go before shooing her away to which Sue scurries to her feet and runs over to her table, sitting in the seat that best blocks Jemma and Julia from seeing him.

Once he’s sure Sue’s gotten the message, Whitley sits back and relaxes a little. He moves to the more shaded side of the booth and takes off his coat before checking his scroll. There are no warnings or messages from Mary yet, so he just scrolls through his notes of leads and possible weaknesses in Jacques's corruption. The list predates the device it’s currently on and seems to grow every week. With the greedy tyrant’s hunger for power pointed elsewhere for the first time since he swindled his way into the Schnee family, Whitley had more opportunities to see the cracks from his position as the loyal dog.

Some of it was pretty tame but hard to unearth, other things were wretched that Whitley had a hard time stomaching the knowledge that it was happening.

Whitley: Disgusting.

He glares at his scroll, turning it off and setting it down a few inches away from him as if the knowledge contained in it made it too foul to be held anymore. Not more than a moment later Penny walks up with an apologetic look on her face as she approaches.

Penny: Sorry I took so long! I tried to be quick but more people wanted a picture with me than I thought.

She apologizes, and Whitley’s mood immediately perks back up.

Whitley: Don’t worry, it’s not your fault that the public adores you. And who can blame them? Having someone so formidable but adorable guarding your city would make anyone a little patriotic.

And just like he’s got her blushing again in about ten seconds, the soft glow of her flustered face lighting his stress by leaps and bounds.

Penny: Stop it, we’re a public venue! Other people might hear you.

She huffs before pulping down into the booth and sliding over to sit right next to him. Before Whitley can throw out a comeback the lights go out. the stage currents open but no lights come on, but the silhouette of four people with their instruments cut through the darkness. Suddenly the soft beat of drums and voices sweeps through the club from the stage sound system.

Flynt: Evening, everybody. It’s been a while.

The crowd cheers loudly as Flynt speaks to them, leaning against the wall from stage left while holding his horn.

Flynt: I know you missed us, but me and my crew’ve been busy. World’s been a mess and we’ve been out in the streets fighting the good fight for this little glimmer stone on the continental popsicle we call home!

The crowd cheers grow louder, some howler out “Whoa! MANTLE!” as Flynt continues.

Flynt: But tonight, we gonna forget all that. Tonight, we jammin. Tonight! We bring the house down!

With that spotlights cut on, revealing all of team FNKI dressed to the nines and already jamming out the intro to one of their more famous songs. Flynt saunters away from the sideline snapping to the beat and right on cue he hits his part and activates his killer quartet amplifying the sound with gusts from the trumpets.

The party’s truly on as the band plays in perfect harmony and swing. The set is electrifying with every song performed being full of passion and energy. At a certain point, there’s a bit of a switch-up to who’s leading the charge as five songs in Ivori’s bass seem to take over the melody for the sixth. The song is exquisite, matching his velvety aura as the notes seem to bounce off walls into a revolving melody that makes perfect use of the acoustics. This pattern of playing hard together then letting one bandmate take the spotlight persists throughout the show. Kobalt’s drum solo is a heavy hit combo, Flynt's use of his copies layers his sound beautifully and wraps the whole club in his tunes.

And then there’s Neon.

Neon Katt was dressed a bit differently from her friends. Fishnet gloves, a white rainbow heart patterned tube top dress with a ruffled skirt at the bottom with black shirts underneath, one fishnet stocking, one bunched up neon blue sock, glow stick ringlets on every limb, and her trademark skates were parred for the course with her but seemed too causal for what she was doing. Until the last song fades out and instead of starting in with another FNKI goes silent and Neon rolls out from behind her DJ booth, dawning a headset as she skates her way to center stage.

Under the spotlight, Neon turns away from the audience and then puts one hand on her hips and the other in the air. She puts down a finger and the crowd shouts out.

Audience: 5!

She puts down another.

Audience: 4!

And another.

Audience: 3!

It keeps going until-

Audience: 2…… 1!

When the crowd cries one the DJ booth roars to life with sound and Neon backflips off the stage onto the dance floor! When her wheels hit the ground rolls into a round around the dance floor until she gets to the center-right as the interlude stops and her first verse starts as her bandmates come in on the track.

Neon: We’re all born, with a dream, we wanna make, come true-oh! ~

She sings, tail bouncing to the beat as she starts to dance.

Neon: The best will climb to the top like me, the rest will end up like you! ~

She winks and throws a peace sign to the crowd as on the note for “you!” the song, “Neon Rainbow” is super hit pitch and poppy, matching Neon to a t! It’s clear this is her song, from her singing to the dancing and her overly stage presence, this was her very own personal anthem! This only solidifies when during the lines, “I’m cool like the rain and I’m hot like the sun!” where she pulls off two of the glow stick accessories and ignites them, revealing the accessories to be small dust canisters, ice, and fire respectively which she twists around for the rest of the chorus. Then she throws them into the air only to catch them with her tail as she starts to roll up to the isles. She skates up, down, and around the closest rows of tables, bringing the performance straight to the audience much to the fans’ delight.

Right in the third verse, Neon replaces a line with a call for a call and response!

Neon: Come on sing it with me now~

Her fans comply and come in with the next lyric.

Audience: Just think of happy things, you’ll see in no time! ~

Neon: Fun every day! ~

Audience: The clouds roll away! ~

Neon: Try it you’ll see! ~

Audience: Just be more me! ~

Neon: Woah!

At that moment Neon activates her semblance and glides back to the dance floor as the techno instrument plays. She zips around the floor in the haze of her rainbow, building momentum until she can’t even be seen beyond the mass of color. Until she jumps up into the air with a flip, when she lands it’s time for the last chorus!

Neon: Listen, girlfriend, can’t you see~ I’m all of the things, that you’ll never be! ~

Sticks come back for cool like the rain and hot like the sun and stay for the last line-

Neon: I’m a neon rainbow! ~ You’re no fun! ~

The instrument comes back for the last time and Neon dances it out til the end. By the end, she’s fabulously sweaty under the spotlight as the crowd goes wild. Looking over to the front row she spots Penny cheering her heart out absolutely overwhelmed by the spectacular performance! Neon puffs up her chest and with a mischievous glint in her she rolls straight up to her.

Penny: Huh?

Penny looks at her bewildered but doesn’t get a chance to ask any questions as the music picks back up. This distracts her long enough for Neon to take advantage and pull her up from her seat and onto the dance floor!

Neon: Time to boogie! Everybody, get on this dance floor!

The audience goes nuts and people start pouring onto the dance floor, leaving Penny and Neon to get swept up in the fray! Whitley immediately goes after them, catching the rhythm of the music and dancing his way through the sea of people. It’s a little tricky at first, he’s not used to dancing so close to people at such a high tempo but once he gets the rhythm down Whitley weaves his way through to the back where he finds Penny being twirled around by Neon. The two redheads are engaged in a very one-sided swing dance when Penny catches sight of Whitley. Her smile of relief draws Neon’s attention, and in an act of complete spontaneity spins Penny around fast then launches her in Whitley's direction!

By some miracle of quick reflexes and muscle memory Whitley manages to take hold of Penny’s hand before the spinning knocks her off balance and swings her into a dip. Her momentum coming in was pretty high, so he had to pull her lower than he ever had but they pulled it off without her falling. For a moment they lock gazes, Penny’s eyes twinkling with amazement and excitement. In a bid of playfulness, Whitley pulls her back, presses their bodies together shoulder to shoulder, chest to chest, and faces less than an inch away from each other.

Whitley: Shall we?

He says with a wink, Penny pauses for a second and gives an enthusiastic nod in agreement. It’s a far cry from the last time they danced together, much more casual, with spins, dips, and sways being more frequent to match the fast pace of the best. Their steps are lighter, and though they may not be as skilled as the more experienced fans they have a blast, nonetheless. They end up dancing for most of the night, only stopping when the heat of the dance floor gets too stuffy. Once they retreat back to their booth Whitley offers to get them some drinks to help them cool off.

Whitley: Got any preferences? Water, juice, soda?

Penny: Oh! Cam you see if they have root beer!

Whitley blinks at the odd suggestion but nods in agreement before sauntering off to the bar. While he’s gone, Penny checks herself in a small compact mirror she’s put in her purse. All that dance right up against him and the rest of the people on the dance floor meant sweat was flying all over the place. Luckily, it’s not too bad no stains on her clothes from bumping into people, and her makeup was as pretty as when she applied it. Putting away her compact Penny looked up at the stage happily, there was something so magical about seeing her friends in their element outside of hunting Grimm. They looked so…different but in a good way, more carefree if that was even possible.

While she gazed, Neon made eye contact and shot her cheeky “we’re sooo talking about this later” wink. Penny tenses and looks away, unnerved by what the brash car girl might have planned for her later.

At the bar, Whitley places his order, asking for Penny’s root beer first only to be told by the bartender that they don’t really sell it with their other soft drinks.

Whitley: What do you mind you don’t serve it?

Bartender: It means we don’t serve it.

Whitley: Then why do you have it?

Bartender: Look it’s not that we don’t, the brand we got just ain’t the kind you serve straight.

Whitley: Well, how do you serve it then?

The bartender picks up a pint and pulls out a tub of vanilla ice cream from the mini-fridge next to the ice maker. He grabs a scoop and fills the pint halfway with ice cream, pulls out the nozzle for the keg of root beer, and fills up the rest of the glass. Give it a good stir with a metal straw then gives it a whippet of whipped cream before stabbing a milkshake straw through it, even throwing in a tiny cherry on top before pushing it toward a stunned Whitley. A root beer float, an old-fashioned drink that was synonymous with youthful fun and hijinx. It was a drink for teens, something sweet to wash away the bitterness of a hard day learning in school, or a celebratory treat after a successful night mischief.

How perfectly on theme.

Whitley eyes the glass pint with an amused smirk then asks the bartender one last question.

Whitley: Is this all you have or are there other flavors?

After fifteen or so minutes Whitley returns with two ice cream floats, root beer for Penny, and orange cream for himself. He sets them down and scoots back into the booth with Penny who’s staring at the drinks with mouth-watering delight.

This was unreal! Penny had always wanted to try having root beer this was ever since Dad gave her a sip from his can while she was still getting used to her new senses. The illustration of it on that soda can was burned into her memory as another small want in her well of wishes. And now it was right in front of her!

Penny: How did you…

Whitley: Luck of the draw, it’s the only way they serve old fashion soda here, and I had a feeling you’d like it.

Penny squeals, she grasps the glass pint with both hands and looks at the drink with a beaming smile.

Penny: Thank you! I can’t wait taste it!

She squeals with glee before taking a big sip. It's cold, creamy and so sweet! The rougher taste of the root beer gives the overly sugary drink a real punch! Whitley watches her enjoy her beverage for a while before taking a sip of his own. It’s so citrusy and sugary wit a creamy texture that made it easier suck down. It was far more surgery than anything he’d ever tasted before, to the point his teeth itch a little.

The calorie intake on this alone would blow his diet straight to hell! Which is why it tastes all the more sweeter to Whitley as he keeps sipping. After all, this was a night of freedom and rebellion with his lady love, so all the rules be damned, diet included!

They spend the rest of the concert sipping their drinks and enjoying the music. It’s past midnight when the sect finally raps up with a bang of protectants, illuminating the stage in rainbow-coated bang!

Flynt: That’s all y’all, we out!

Neon: Love you peeps!

Kobalt: Keep it real!

Ivori: We’ll be back soon so look out for us on the scene!

Flynt: Good night, everybody!

The audience gives a final rearing cheer as Team FNKI has their current call and leaves the stage. Much of the crowd starts to leave while others stay as the club starts playing their usual selection. Penny and Whitley are about to make their exit when Neon glides in.

Neon: Heyyo Penny Pop! You enjoy the show!

She beams at them, standing right in the middle of their path and blocking the easiest route out.

Penny: Hello Neon. Yes, we really enjoyed the show. You and the rest of Team FNKI were amazing!

Neon: Aw, thanks, girl! Glad you had fun. But uh, I got say you really surprised me. Didn’t think you had it in you to pull something like this!

Penny: Huh? What are you talking about?

Penny cocks her head; she’s got no clue what Neon’s talking about. But it becomes clear when the cat girl rolls over to Whitley’s side and grabs onto his shoulders.

Neon: Nothing just that, You Brought A Date Without Telling Me!

The redhead faunus clasps Whitley’s masked face and smushes his cheeks.

Neon: I mean look at him! So classy, tall, and even smells good! Even with his face is all covered up, you can still tell he’s a total hottie!

Penny: Neon!

Penny protests, not that Neon was saying anything untrue but it’s completely inappropriate for her coworker to be talking about her boyfriend like that!

Neon: What? It’s true! Look at those strong shoulders.

Penny: Regardless! You shouldn’t say things like that about someone else’s boyfriend!

The moment the words leave her mouth Penny throws her hands over her mouth as she realizes what she’s just done. Neon looks at her dumbstruck then at Whitley then back a Penny before repeating her last word.

Neon: Boyfriend? He’s your-You have a boyfriend?!

Neon points out, looking totally mystified while Penny begins to fidget as she struggles to find a way out of this.

Penny: That’s-I-It’s not…..

Penny can’t find the right words to say, she couldn’t deny it outright because of her tell and she couldn’t deny it non-verbally because she’d already confirmed it with her first statement. Whitley’s about to cut into the conflict but Neon lets him go and turns tail toward the way she came.

Neon: I gotta tell the guys, they’re gonna flip!

She exclaims before dashing off to a backstage door. Fearing their secret is about to be exposed, Whitley and Penny quickly get their things together and chase after her. They rush the door behind her only to find she’s already caught up with her teammates and is about to spread the news!

Neon: Guys, you are not gonna believe this, Penny has a-

Penny: Neon Katt!!!

Penny shouts, interpreting the playful party girl just in time. She and Whitley stand opposite the rest of Team FNKI while Neon stands in the middle, an incoming confrontation looming over them as young lovers try to smooth the situation over.

Penny: Neon, I need you to not do what you’re about to do.

Neon: Why not? It’s good news!

Penny: Please! The situation is very, very complicated, and I rather keep it private! Please just don’t-

Neon: Don’’t what?! What’s so complicated about you having a boyfriend?

And just like that the cat’s out of the bag straight from another cat’s mouth. Penny visibly deflates while Whitley facepalms, all that planning, secrecy, and effort down the drain in one night because of a nosy friend. Said friend seems completely unaware of what she’s just done while her teammates gaze at the pair in stunned shock as they take in the news.

Kobalt: Get out! Are you serious?!

Ivori: No, freaking, way! I knew something was going on, you had a happy little glow to you but for the life of me I could not place it. Now I see where it was coming from!

The two men gush, absolutely endeared to their younger co-worker's budding relationship. Except for Flynt, who looks down at the couple from his shade with a usually harsh look of suspicion while the rest of his team continues their fawning.

Neon: Right? Now all those weird texts make sense. You were fishing for dating advice, weren’t you?

Kobalt: What text? What are you talking about-

Ivori: -O. M. Double G, No! That would mean-you two have been together for that long?! Really?!

Neon looks at Ivori with a raised eyebrow until her mind backtracks enough to realize that what she’d just discovered was not a new thing. The gears in her head were practical steaming for all to see as the cat girl looked down at her hands and counted with her fingers, double-checking a few times to make sure she got it right.

Neon: That was almost like three months ago!

Kobalt: Seriously? Penny had a boyfriend for three months and nobody knew. No way?!

Ivori: This is just too cute, I gotta know how this went down.

The three, now brimming with curiosity, come together and bombarded the couple with a rapid fire of questions, mostly directed at Penny. Said girl doesn’t know how to handle the mess of prying queries but amidst the chaos, Flynt strides around his crew and squares up with Whitley. Standing right in front of him a looking down at him with shade-covered eyes.

Flynt: So, you’re Penny’s boyfriend huh?

Flynt asks, his usual playful mannerisms coming off more threatening tone then mildly smug. Whitley just nods yes in response, not speaking as he can tell just hearing his voice might set Flynt off.

Why?

Because Whitley knew good and well this man had an issue with him. More accurately he had issues with his father, Jacques.

Flynt immediately proves his point as his suspicious stare twists into a hateful glare.

Flynt: I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that. How ‘bout you open your mouth and speak up-

All of a sudden, he reaches down and rips the mask right off of Whitley’s face!

Flynt: -Whitley Schnee!

Flynt’s voice drips with venom, the others look on in horror as he grabs the teen by his collar and gets in his face. The shock only lasts a second before Neon and Kobalt rush to pull him off, screaming at him to knock it off and unhand the kid while trying to pull back. But Flynt stands strong, anger keeping him firmly planted in place like a still burning hot lava stone as he breaks into a tirade.

Flynt: You got a whole lot of nerve waltzing into my show, in my city with one of my friends Schnee! Did you really think I wouldn’t recognize your sorry ass or were you trying to piss me off?!

He smears, Neon, and Kobalt are still trying to get him to stop but there’s no getting through to him.

Kobalt: Dude, stop! This ain’t the time or the place!

Neon: What the hell, Flynt! What’s gotten into you?! Knock it off!

Flynt: BOTH OF YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP!

The shout stops both of them in their tracks.

Flynt: This got nothing to do with you so back the fuck up!

Neither seemed to know what to do, they’d never seen him rage like this before. Flynt is about to go off again but a stinging pain in his arm stops him. Looking down at his arm Flynt catches sight of Penny’s hand gripping his forearm. Looking over at her, Penny’s gaze is sharp and pointed, a stare usually reserved for grimm and the worst of criminals.

Penny: Flynt Coal, release Whitley immediately, or I will make you release him.

She commands, pressing her thumb into his wrist hard, a silent threat to obey or risk losing the limb. Flynt relents and lets go, rubbing his wrist with his unharmed hand to soothe it. Penny’s gaze doesn’t waiver though, it stays firmly locked in Flynt.

Penny: Now, explain to me why you just assaulted a civilian!

She orders, anger ripe in her voice. Flynt grits his teeth at her demand and Penny continues to glare at him in wait for her answer. The atmosphere is unbearably tense as the two usually calm huntsmen stare daggers at each other when Whitley finally speaks up.

Whitley: It’s nothing personal to me, just family ties. My father screwed over his, devastated the poor man’s long-standing dust business to make way for his monopoly.

This exclamation pulls everyone’s attention to Whitley, Flynt stammering a little at his honesty as Whitley continues.

Whitley: It’s a shame really, how big corporations bulldoze over locate businesses. Especially when it’s spearheaded by a megalomaniac with a moral code lower than most casinos.

He tilts his glasses, swagger just as prim and proper as always, as he looks Flynt directly in the eyes.

Whitley: Really, who could blame the family, in this case, the son, of one of those poor unfortunate souls for getting a little volatile when confronted with the spawn of the person he hates most? And at his own concert no less! Honestly, anyone would have lost their cool over this. Isn’t that, Flynt Coal?

He extends a hand to him, face fixed into his usual business smile. The message he was sending Flynt was clear, he had no ill will toward him in regard to their fathers’ conflict. He wasn’t here for anything more than a date with his girlfriend and any external conflict was just a coincidence. It reminded Flynt of how he came at Weiss but instead of dancing around it in a fight like she had, Whitley was upfront. No dental or pretense, just straight facts. He knew the score, knew what his family name had become, and wasn’t gonna pretend they had any leg to stand when it came to morality.

That’s gutsy, Flynt could respect that.

He grips Whitley’s hand and gives it a firm shake.

Flynt: Yeah, my bad.

He relents, the atmosphere calms as the two come to a silent trust.

Ivori: Okay! Now that that’s settled-

Ivori finally steps up, striding up from the shadows and grabbing everyone’s attention. He plants himself strategically between Whitley, Flynt, and Penny, making the two lovers back up to one side and the band to the other as he prattles on.

Ivori: -Why don’t you two tell us your story?

He gestures to Penny and Whitley.

Ivori: We’d love to hear how this all came about.

He inquiries, voice soft and soothing as the texture of his last name's sake. The couple exchange glances, Penny looks anxious, so Whitley gets in close and whispers to her.

Whitley: Do you trust them?

He asks, Penny pauses to think for a moment. Flynt, Neon, Ivori, and Kobalt had always been friendly to her and never let her down be it as friends or on missions. Neon, despite being the cause of this, had been her closest confidant when her crush had started and had been there when her heart was shattered. All that said this was still a very sensitive situation, one that could ruin them all if it got out. She looks over to Whitley and then at her comrades.

Penny: Flynt Coal, Neon Katt, Ivori Lace and Kobalt Co.

She addresses all of them with a firm tone and all four freeze, shocked as Penny had never called them out at once before.

Penny: What I am about to tell you is very personal information. Information that could be a detriment to the safety of myself, Whitley, and any other parties involved if not handled carefully.

She takes Whitley’s hand in hers and clasps it protectively.

Penny: I need to know none of you will ever let this leak, that this information will stay between the four of you and no one else.

Her voice is tense but unyielding, and the carefree bunch knows she's being painfully serious. The team look amongst each other and nod in the affirmative. There is an unusual air of seriousness around the group as they recognize the gravity of their circumstances, and return Penny’s determined gaze with equal resolve.

Flynt: We won’t tell a soul, I promise you.

Flynt responds with utmost sincerity eliciting a respectful nod from the female android. With one last glance to Whitley, who gives her a reassuring nod, Penny takes a deep breath before proceeding.

Penny: Okay, we’ll tell you.

Penny and Whitley take their time explaining how they met, fell in love, and began their secret relationship. It’s quite the story, a tale all four huntsmen become completely enthralled in, as they learn of the many trials, twists, and turns the couple faced in their quest of love. By the end, Flynt looks absolutely ashamed of himself, Neon is starting to whimper through tears, Ivori is dabbing at his misty eyes with a handkerchief, mascara tear stains ruining his foundation be damned, and Kobalt is facing away from everyone with his head pressed against the wall so no one can see him sobbing into his arm.

Whitley: We hope you understand why we had to be so careful.

Penny: We just wanted to be together, despite the risk. I know it sounds foolish and selfish but when I hear he snuck out all the way to Mantle to just to find me, I.. I just couldn’t hide my feelings anymore; I couldn’t turn him away.

Penny muses while staring lovingly at Whitley, who in turn cups her cheeks and gazes at her with the same admiration.

Whitley: And I couldn’t spend any day without you, the loneliness would have killed me.

Penny: No, it wouldn’t have.

Whitley: Yes, but honesty is a life without love even worth living?

He jests and she laughs, their usual brand of sarcasm and honesty bouncing off each other in perfect harmony. But the loving atmosphere is soon broken by Flynt.

Flynt: Alright! I think we get the gist of it! You two fell in love, but his daddy wasn’t about to let that happen, so you started sneaking around behind his back! That about it?!

He declares in a slightly flustered tone, his earlier ire replaced with awkwardness. He obviously feels terrible for the way he acted and is floundering to backtrack his attitude. Luckily Neon cuts in before he can spiral any worse.

Neon: That was the sweetest, saddest, most heartbreaking thing I ever heard! I can’t believe you hid your epic love story from me!

She whines, her tears bouncing with every word before her face settles into a pout.

Penny: Sorry, but you have a tendency to gossip, and I couldn't risk this becoming known.

Neon: I can keep a secret!

Penny: Would you have if I told you from the start?

Neon: Uh, well uhh…probably not.

Penny: And that’s why I didn’t tell you.

Neon: But still! If you’d told what the deal was from the start I could have-

The hum of loud vibration breaks the conversation, its Whitley’s scroll going off.

Whitley: Excuse me.

He steps away and pulls out the device to check his messages. It’s from Mary, apparently, Jacques had called for a driver, the unlucky duck being poor Godfrey, to come to get him early.

Mary: [I was roaming the halls and could hear him shouting on the line at Godfrey. Poor man looked like he was going to cry.]

She texted, Whitley grimaces as he reads the text then sighs, turning back to the group with a disgruntled look on his face.

Whitley: Apologizes but it looks like my night on the town is over.

Penny: What?!

She asks a little shaken with worry, this was the first Whitley had ever had to leave a date early. Whitley pats her shoulder softly before reaching down to pick up his discarded mask as he explains.

Whitley: Father’s coming home and in likely foul mood. I need to get back before him to batten down the hatches for the incoming tantrum.

He states, dusting off mask before dawning it again. Penny wants to protest but backdowns before uttering a word. This was the deal they made, the only way they could be together, she couldn’t act spoiled when things didn’t go her way. Knowing how much this must disappoint her Whitley pulls down his mask and gives Penny a soft kiss on the forehead.

Whitley: Sorry, Penny. I can make it back on my own you enjoy the rest of the night with your friends. I’ll call you when I get back.

Penny: No, I’d rather go with you to the station.

Whitley: You sure?

Penny: Yeah, this was fun, but I don’t want to stay without you. Besides I promised to be there whenever you come to and from Atlas.

Whitley: But it’s late.

Penny: Yes, and my promise did not come with time restrictions.

Whitley: Oh you!

He squished her cheeks, gods she just couldn’t help being so adorably earnest, could she? While the two lovebirds fawn at each other and attempt to figure out their transportation plan Flynt steps in to offer a helping hand.

Flynt: ‘Ey if you need a lift home, we can help you with that.

He stated, wrapping an arm around Kobalt’s shoulder and pulling him forward.

Flynt: Koco’s a damn good getaway driver with a mean set of wheels. He can get you up top in a hot minute. Right Koco?

Kobalt: Yeah! Just gimme an address and I’ll get you there no problem!

He exclaims chest puffed up with pride. Penny and Whitley share questioning glances, it would be easier to get a direct ride home for both and cut their commute time down considerably. It was a genuine kind offer so what would be the harm in taking it?

In the alley behind the jazz club, Kobalt walks the pair to a large van. The vehicle has a heavy coat of black paint decorated with blue hot rod flames and neon strip lights. It was clearly meant to be a cargo vehicle but had clearly been modded for speed in the most brazen ways possible. As if its owner had tried to convert it into a race car but couldn't find its humble origin.

Kobalt: Alright kiddies meet your lift for the night. This is my ride, my baby Blue Blaze!

Kobalt beams, proud to show off his beloved car. Meanwhile, the young couple have some reservations about this mode of transport.

Whitley: …. Wow.

Kobalt: I know right? Ain’t she a beauty?!

Penny: Isn’t this a standard-issue all-terrain delivery van?

Kobalt: Yeah! My old man knows a guy who runs a shipping yard, sold me one of his old vans for cheap.

Whitley: Is it even street-legal?

Kobalt: Of course! She’s old but still runs like a dream!

Whitley: Is it insured?

Kobalt: Well, yeah……mostly, for like most stuff. Come on! Don’t you have somewhere to be?

Whitley pauses, contemplating whether or not this is a really good idea, but time is of the essence, so he relents. They get in, Whitley and Penny in the back and Kobalt in the driver seat, everyone buckles u, Whitley gives him the address and they take off into the night. The drive is actually quite smooth as Kobalt takes his own route through Mantle’s streets, navigating like only a true city native can. Everything is fine and dandy until it’s time to go up.

Now most far-traveling vehicles that went to and from Atlas to Mantle and into the tundra had to be built with three modes to be driven. First was standard street mode, second was heavy terrain for trekking on the ice of the snow climate, and lastly, to reach Atlas was flight mode. Every road vehicle that traveled between the cities had a street and flight mode. Blue Blaze was no different.

As they’re driving Kobalt turns into a take-off road, a road that was little more than a public runaway for flying vehicles. Cars are spaced further apart than on other roads to accommodate flight gear, needed momentum, and clear passage. There was no turning or passing in the lanes only moving forward and into the sky. Once on the road, Kobalt engages the flight mode, and the van shifts, the windows and doors tighten shut, and the wings and thrusters emerge from their place in the thick undercarriage. Kobalt speeds up, going with the flow of traffic, a fiat that necessitated Atlas and Mantle driver��s licenses class B and above to have the hardest driver’s proficiency test of all four kingdoms. The van shifts and hops as it starts to gain some air.

Whitley, having never flown in such a small craft, starts to get nervous. His stomach drops as he second guesses if this damn thing can even make it off the ground! Penny, seeing his uneasiness, reaches out and holds his hand, clasping it gently and giving him as sweet smile when he looks up once he feels her touch. This distracts him as take off is emanate.

Kobalt: Hold on tight! We’re going up!!!

Kobalt howlers, the moment he feels that all the wheels are on the ground he guns the thrusters and they take off from the runway road into the sky!

Whitley grabs onto Penny tight as he feels the break of the sound barrier closer than ever before! His body pushed back into the seat from the force of the lift-off makes him flinch and close his eyes tight!

He doesn’t open them again until the ride smooths out. When they hit a coursing altitude and the turbulence has calmed down Whitley takes a peek and finds Penny still holding his hand calmly. She was completely unbothered by the lightness under their feet and the hum of air rushing around the outside of the van. Looking past her and out the window Whitley sees something incredible.

From the angle they were ascending, he could see the city Mantle below, parts of the underside of Altas, the tundra around both, and the starry sky. It was an alien experience, seeing the place he’d lived in all his life from this point of view. He could see some of the inner workings of the structures that were usually unseen in the higher metropolis and the totality of the lower city. All the lights, towers, and buildings of the grounded city and the maze-like layout of its streets. And the mountains, being above one would never know just how enormous and intimidating they really were. But here as they go up Whitley can see just how massive the tundra surrounding the territory was as even the smaller of them were as tall as Mantle’s highest building and the largest could easily press at the bottom of Atlas if not pierce through it. The darkness of the night sky only heightens the depth of the world around him, stars twinkling in the distance further than anyone could ever reach.

For a moment Whitley truly understands how small he is compared to the grandness of the frozen kingdom and how little he has really seen of any part of the world he was born in, even in his own birthplace.

The majesty of it has him so encapsulated Whitley continues to stare out the window until it’s time for the landing.

The jolt of the van bucking back onto solid ground breaks him from his trance, his grip on Penny’s hand tightening as he jolts back back to reality from the shift in gravity. Penny doesn’t mind it and holds onto him as the van zips onto Atlas’s streets. The van weaves and rolls through back streets and shortcuts Whitley had never been down before, Kobalt commanding the vehicle with surprising expertise. It was oddly thrilling, like being in a scene out of a coming-of-age movie.

A getaway driver is making great time to get the male lead home after a night of mischief, the female lead coming along out of gentle concern and sweet stubbornness. The outlandishness of it all was enough to make Whitley grin!

Had he ever had this much fun in one night before?

Whitley: Is this what they call the thrill of youth? I could get used to it.

He muses, his nerves fully relaxed as they continue on towards the manor. When they’re just about forty yards from the monument estate Whitley gets up from his seat and taps Kobalt’s shoulder.

Whitley: Pull over here, I’ll walk the rest of the way.

Kobalt nods and parks the van. When the vehicle comes to a complete stop Whitley unbuckles his seatbelt, rushing to get out. But turns around before his feet can touch the ground and plants a quick kiss on Penny’s cheek.

Whitley: I’ll call you tomorrow, Good night my sweet.

He whispers, playfully winking before hopping out of the van and making a dash for the manor. Penny closes the van door behind him and watches him from the window. Instead of walking through the front door Whitley seemingly disappears into the estate after running out of her field of view.

Confused at where he’s gone, Penny texts Whitley to see if he’s made it in alright and replies yes. She asks how and he replays cheekily with-

Whitley: [That’s my little secret. At least, for now]

Penny giggles at the message and writes back a good night before giving the all-clear to head back.

She can’t help but smile, this night had been amazing in so many ways. Even though their relationship was discovered the news was received positively by most. Sure there were some bumps here and there and some loose ends to tie up with her friends, Neon was definitely going to bug her about this for the next week at the least, but overall this had been the best outcome.

So on their way back into the city and Penny spots a familiar white limousine, she doesn’t feel the nervousness she normally would.

A bastard businessman would be coming home to a perfectly quiet house, his heir “sleeping” peacefully in his bed just as he had expected.

The perfect crime without a trace of evidence.

At least for the act they thought would be the end of them.

[insane2madness]

You told me about Satoru, now tell me about Luigi! How did you two meet, is Mario okay with your relationship? Who made the first move? How do you feel about Lu helping save Peach/Daisy/etc?

Hi again Ciel! I see you are interested in my trash 😈. Jk I know it’s not trash but I appreciate the asks! Really!

This will be going more off of the Movies than the games! Basically my AU for the Movie version.

Lu and I met in High School! For the first two years we had all the same classes and since we were both the shy ones we ALWAYS had to work together on projects but neither of us mind. After the first few projects we started to build a friendship!

Mario is 100% okay with mine and Lu’s relationship. Besides Mario, Luigi never really had an friends so when Mario found out Luigi had made a new friend in High School he was ecstatic! Even more so after we started dating.

I was the one who made the first move! Poor Lu couldn’t do it. He was shaking in his boots 😂 It was after out High School graduation! Luigi had invited me over to his family’s restaurant for a “friendly” date. He even got his dad to teach him how to make a pizza 😭. Classic candlelit dinner date. I was stunned but so happy and the pizza was amazing! But poor Lu couldn’t even look at me so I finally had to take his hand and tell him how I felt… and then Mario jumped out from behind the arcade machines and told us to kiss already 😂

I don’t mind Lu rescuing the Princesses cause I know he’s only into men. If anything Peach and Daisy are like sisters to me.

[pumpkinpot]

Black Butler Grinch!AU Pt.2

Synopsis: Something has it out for the Phantomhive household but will Sebastian make it in time to save everyone?

CW: Body gore, decapitation, stalking, pinchers, monster depictions, horror in general, Sebastian is an ass. 

Pt. 1  Pt. 3

.

The mailman bubs through sobs. “I know it sounds crazy but-”

Ciel scoffs behind you. “It must have been a bear coming out of hibernation or something.”

you check the wound on his side. Two thick puncture holes below his ribs. It wasn’t Sebastian's style. Whoever did this seemed less intent on killing and more on draining him.

The mailman shakes his head at Ciel. “But it said-”

“It spoke to you?” Sebastian interrupts, “well that does change things, what did it say?” 

“It said, “In blood dark will be plentiful.”” the man stuttered again. “what could that mean?” 

I lean back on my heels looking back at Sebastian. He turns to Ciel speaking in hushed tones. 

“There are creatures that feed off emotion that are quite abundant this time of year.” He says it loud enough for you to hear, but still you strain. “Both are usually well fed this time of year. Christmas is made up of two specifically, one feeds on joy the other depression. Joy is quite symbiotic for humans, but the other obviously wouldn’t be. When one thrives the other can’t eat. I think they're starving each other out.”

You keep the mailman's hand in yours as you turn to them. “So why not fight each other, what do we have to do with it?”

Sebastian skips the last half of your question continuing on the first. “Joy likely hasn’t noticed a discrepancy yet. England keeps plenty of events going in the build up to Christmas, the thing won’t realize until Christmas that something has happened."

“but it's a deficit year. There are plenty of people struggling.” Ciel counters.

“To put it simply, they are greedy. You can thank the ever consumerism of Christmas on joy and capitalism on the other. Of course some of their retaliations work in tandem with the others. They are the same being after all, but when humans do things to upset their balance, like giving treats to starving children for example, it can make a starving beast come out of hiding.”

The conversation falls into silent contemplation before Sebastian orders Finny, Mey Ren, Bald and even Tanka to go find dry clothes and prepare to go out again.

You follow them out of the room into the hallway. “Am I coming this time?” You ask. 

Ciel continues leaving you and Sebastian alone. 

He spares you a slight glance. “No.”

“Sebastian-”

He turns to you fully with a sigh. “I know you believe I am doing this because I believe you incapable, but I assure you that isn’t the case-” 

“No Sebastian, that wasn’t my assumption,” you meet his eyes. “I have had no problem siding with your decisions when they are explained and logical. This is neither. You have yet to give me any reason I shouldn’t be useful when we both know I am capable.” 

He did believe you would be useful, even kept kicking himself to not allow you to come, but he couldn’t. Simply you would distract him. It was of course his own greed to keep you safe that would distract him but it was easier to blame you. 

All day he’d been trying to come up with a viable reason for you to stay inside, without revealing too many of his personal feelings. When it was proving fruitless he opted to avoid you all together. 

He even played with the idea of telling you that you were incapable, but that would create a rift he didn’t have the time to render, besides it didn’t feel comfortable within himself to lie about something so blatantly untrue given his actual reasoning. 

“I knew someone was stalking the manor,” he confessed, “I haven’t been able to tell who until now. Someone ambushed all of England's Funtum toy factories leaving inventory in complete ruins. This was the last target on the list of places they have yet to hit. Baldroy, Finney, and Mey Ren were out looking for evidence. I didn’t involve you because I don’t prefer to put my things in needless danger.”

You were growing tired of hearing the term my thing. “So you allowed me to stay in the kitchen acting as if nothing was wrong while my friends put themselves at risk mere feet away because you wanted to preserve me for a fantasy you’ve created in your mind?”

 His jaw slacked slightly but he closed it with a drop of his shoulders. 

Did that hurt his feelings? 

Either way, he recovers quickly. “Yes. And I would and will do it again.” He takes a step forward, brushing a hand on your cheek. “it’s not for you to understand yet. Maybe if you behave I’ll explain later. But for now, I mean what I say. Stay inside.” 

You had enough bravery left in your chest for one more remark. “And if I don’t?”

His palm, still soft against your cheek, smooths back into your neck as he tugs you into an empty room. His nose teases yours and he leans in with a sly smile. “I am not known for gentle punishments.” 

With that, he steps away locking you in. You jiggle the knob angrily. “Sebastian no!” you bang on the door, but he’s gone. 

You don’t know how much time has passed but your fists have become sore and bruised, halfheartedly pounding the wood when you hear footsteps. “Hello,” you beg, “let me out!” 

To your surprise there's a jiggle of the handle, a click, and the door creaks open. You expect to find Mey Ren or maybe Finny but instead, it’s the mailman.

He favors his left side heavily and holds the rag you’d given over his puncture wounds on the right. “I heard you from the kitchen,” he huffs. His body shakes, pained and weak. “I waited until they left before coming.” 

You felt ashamed and angry that you needed an injured man to come save you. You huffed out a thanks looking down the hall. The air is still with the absence of echoing conversation or footsteps. Instead, it is the shaky haggard breath of your savior. 

“There are better pain medicines upstairs in the guest kitchen.” You suggest taking him under your arm. 

“I can’t make it up like I am now.” 

“I’ll get them.”

The house is completely empty. Not even Tanaka ghosts through the halls. You’d never been inside like this before. it took on a certain hum like you weren’t alone and it was the house itself keeping you company. 

You were debating with yourself whether it was worth going out into the snow now. If everyone had truly gone you would be wandering around by yourself looking for a creature you had no business fighting. For now, what you could do was help the mailman. 

Just as you’ve gotten the pain medicine in hand all the lights in the manor snuff at once throwing you at the mercy of a snowy gray sky. It illuminates just enough for you to see the rough shapes of the furniture in front of you. You listen for anything out of place but hear nothing but eerie stillness. 

Shuffling forward, gripping anything you can to find your way. It was too dark to even find a candle to light so you rely solely on muscle memory to get you back down to the servant's stairs. 

It’s darker in the lower level. All the windows had been bordered up to conserve heat. Still, your eyes had adjusted enough to see where you were going, but the moment you turned the corner you almost wished they hadn’t.

Down the hallway to the kitchens stands a mass large enough to be a bear. But where bears were plump all around it was skinny in the arms with a bulbous tummy and stood on its back legs. It has a smaller mass in its hand that stretches long and moves lifelessly.

Two glowing yellow eyes catch yours and don’t break. Your breath pulls in commas and you swear it can hear your heart beating. You stand there an eternity unwilling to move first. The mass in its hand whimpers in a tone sounding sickeningly similar to the mailman's and your attention breaks for only a second. When it rights the creature is halfway down the hall to you, dropping its first toy in a heap behind it.

You throw yourself through the doorway of your room just as it crashes by. One of its hands catches the door frame pulling itself into the entrance. It looms large and heavy above trapping you in a corner. 

“Don’t run little spirit,” its voice sounds like broken glass on concrete. “I’d rather get this done quickly.” 

A woosh of air and biting pain clamp down on your arm. Thick nails puncture your muscles dragging you forward. You attempt to jimmy free, sacrificing the integrity of your forearm. 

Thick red ribbons slice down your arms as you barrel around the creature taking a turn towards the stairs. Hot blood drips down your palms. It stalks behind you with an indignant growl. Where were you going to go? Running through the rest of the house was bound to catch Sebastian's attention who was looking for the creature outside, though if they weren’t close enough to notice the sudden absence of light they likely weren’t close enough to be of any help to you. You are paces from the stairs when you hear it behind you gaining speed. 

If you found yourself trapped in the stairwell with it, there would be no escape, a split decision, and you turned left, throwing yourself into the dumbwaiter. 

Your body contorts awkwardly into the hole and slams the door closed. There are a few loud bangs on the metal door, denting it slightly before nails rock the door you're holding closed open a few inches. You try once more to close it with all your weight then switch your strength to the chain pulling the platform you sit on up out of reach. 

It pokes its head under the door watching you climb. Its cackles echo up the metal shaft and it disappears. You pull as hard and fast as you can with your veins punctured as they are. The upper kitchen comes into view accompanied by a series of clamors up the main staircase.

You throw yourself out of the hole in the wall and beneath the first surface, you can fit under holding your breath. The world is silent for a moment and you think to come out to grab a weapons, but the thud of nails brings the idea to a halt. You look beneath the table for feet, but none show. Despite this, the distinct steps of travel doesn’t stop. 

It’s in here with you, you know it and it's close. You hold your breath hoping to hear the taps again. There it is-

 Tap, tap- Above you. 

Stifling your sobs with a fist you peek up at the horrifying mass crawling on the ceiling. Its fingers splay out tickling the wall as it looks around the room like he hasnt spotted you yet. The kitchen holds barely any more light than the bottom floors, but moonlight pools through the windows. When the creature passes through it you can see the undeniable green tint of matted fur. 

 “I can smell you,” it growls, dropping its body heavily atop the cart you’re under. 

Reclusing into yourself, you pull your arms, still oozing blood as close to your body as it will go. If you didn’t stop the bleeding soon you were sure to lose more than just a fight. 

Its sheer size was enough to determine fighting as a viable option for survival. Though it had proved sentient, maybe you could bargain.

You lick your lips preparing to speak, but as the syllable slicks your tongue, something slinks around your ankle dragging you from your hiding spot.

You grab onto the cart as it swings around on its wheeled legs. The creature holds you above itself beaming with slated pupils in golden eyes. “Found you.”

A scream attempts to rip itself from your lungs but no sound escapes. Instead, the last hope of your original plan pleads into the freezing air. “What do you want?”

A growl hums from the beast. "the dark," it says.

You attempt to swipe at the thing catching its mouth with your bad arm. A new sort of excitement burns behind its grip. It catches your limb with its free hand dropping your leg all together.

Holding your arm to its lips you feel a dry sandpaper-like tongue slip over your skin. Torn bits of flesh rip from your body. You attempt to push against it, to run away but it holds your elbow firmly in place.

What feels like teeth sink into your body, but when you take a moment to look its jaw it completely slacks, extracting two thick appendages from its mouth tearing into your tendons. Your muscles spasm.

Despite the physical pain nothing compares to the utter despair fuzzing around your vision. Any memory, hope or contentment you'd felt in your life depleted as if nothing had ever been there leaving behind nothing but gloom.

Your focus wanes in and out of consciousness. You reach for anything to cling to. Any hope or- Your free hand grazes the handle of a cast iron pan you pull at it with everything inside of you. it nearly falls heavy out of your grip, but you swing it up enough to catch its pincers with the hull breaking one of them off.

The creature lets you go grasping its jaw. You crawl out of the kitchen onto the overlook of the main staircase. Through bellows and growls, you look around for anything to defend yourself with. You giggle the rungs of the stairs railing but they all fix tightly. Nothing but glass vases and garland are close enough for you to reach. You peek over the railing to the bottom foyer. 

The stairs were too far away for you to crawl to time so you tug at the garland. Resigned to the idea you might not make it out of this you pull the vines around yourself and turn to the creature stalking towards you. 

Its growls are pained and furious. 

You hear Sebastian call to you from somewhere in the lower levels, but he isn't close enough.

The second your attention divides the creature lunges. You catch its neck in the garland throwing yourself over the railing. The tile below comes at you quickly and you close your eyes preparing for impact, but it doesn’t come immediately. Your body jolts with a loud gargled snap suspending you in the air a second longer, before you continue your descent to the floor. 

You hit the cold ground in a series of two thuds. Air vomits itself from your lungs leaving you gasping and as you bring in your first intake hot liquid pours down your scalp. 

It floods your ears, stings your eyes, and puddles in your lap. You attempt to scramble away but are met with the still-glowing eyes of your assailant. Its severed head leans in a blackened puddle spreading down the foyer. 

You think you hear your name, but can’t be sure until someone pinches your shoulder swiveling you around into candlelight. You blink away the burn it brings Sebastian's eyes meeting yours. 

He inspects you frantically. “Are you hurt?” 

You have no words to give him, so you lift your arm feeling the things eyes on you from behind. 

When Sebastian pulls your arm into the light, you see the cuts are much deeper than you’d initially. Where it had fed on you gashes in a different direction than the others. Likely from where you’d hit it. As the thought finishes in your mind you feel the last of your adenine leave your body. Everything becomes heavy. 

Sebastian keeps you upright, his grip struggling to keep gentle against your sensitive skin. “It fed on you?” his voice lowered to ice and velvet. The question wasn’t really for you and you’re thankful. Honestly you didn’t know how to answer.

His eyes glow like the creatures but full of blood rather than fire. “Where is it?”

With the last of your resolve, you scoop the severed head behind you into your lap. The puddle sloshes against your leg waving out and beyond. 

Sebastian doesn’t shy away from the thing, but shock still shows through in his features.

“You would have thought it had the decency to stay in a single part of the house,” Ciel scoffs behind Sebastian. 

“That’s my fault,” you slur instinctively. 

You can’t see the boy, but you hear an indignant hum then the tap of his cane as he turns away. “Sebastian, get this cleaned up. Then tea.” 

Sebastian, who was always at the ready to obey, doesn’t move. His hand cradles your fist that grips a tuft of the severed head. “I’ll take it from here.” 

You had a witty comeback somewhere in your subconscious but you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. Instead, you pry your fingers open and he takes the head looking to the floor above. 

He keeps what he sees to himself, tossing the head aside. “Let’s get you in the bath.”

. 

CW for part three: Smut. Porn with a plot. MDNI. Trauma shock. blood.

. 

Hey if you like this content here is my Master List 

[jkpfr]

She wakes up and can immediately tell something is wrong.

She wakes up underwater, unable to open her eyes, unable to reach for anything she can touch. It seems she gained consciousness just in time to decide to hold her breath. The pressure is too much… An awful metaphor.

Confusion couldn’t even begin to describe what she feels. She’s drowning. She’s about to die underwater with no idea how she got here.

She tries to move her arms and legs in every direction.

(Please don’t kill me.)

(How can I escape this?)

(It’s too early.)

(It’s too late.)

When she feels the embrace of death…

She takes a deep breath…

Because someone has fished her out of the water and saved her life.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

She disconnected from reality for a few minutes, though she doesn’t remember making the choice to. Her face is in the shade, but the majority of her body is lying in the sun, the dryness of her clothes compared to her hair proof of its brutality.

“- You’re dripping water all over her!”

Emily Drake, Ultimate Fashionista. She was the first victim of the killing game.

“- Get your fucking priorities in order…”

Benjamin Pan, Ultimate Fortune Teller. On a technicality, they were deemed the second victim.

Evidence has it that Mina shouldn’t be hearing their voices, and that the long wet hair hanging against her shoulder shouldn’t belong to one of them. Ever the curious girl, the Ultimate Detective opens her eyes, and it’s as she thought; looking over her with worried faces are Emily and Benjamin… although there is one more person – being her friend Ciel.

She frowns.

“- Why?”

For being so wet all over, her throat feels awfully dry.

“- Mina! Mina’s awake!”

If the fashionista gasps excitedly, Ciel remains silent, save for the loud swallowing of his own spit. For some reason, she chuckles.

“- Waking up next to Emily and Ben… I get the leitmotif… But what are you doing here?”

Oscar chased her and killed her. It was terrifying and violent… but at least it’s over… and it was her own fault. She wasn’t careful. Her intellect didn’t live up to its reputation. Although it’s commonplace for Ultimates to be replaced following their death regardless, the act itself of her being killed must have meant she was fired on the spot.

For now, still, let’s say the “Ultimate Detective” watches her friend’s face be deformed with a pained grimace and his eyes well up with tears.

“- Mina… I’m so sorry…”

Maybe this is some sort of hallucination. Though she likes the grandiose of it, she doesn’t believe in a concept like “Hell”, “life after death”. She’s never heard of anything like it, but maybe the answer is that she’s hallucinating whatever her brain can come up in its last moments.

Emily and Benjamin are people she knows to have died victims, just like her, and now her brain imagines painful goodbyes to the one person to have truly been her friend.

He sniffles. He gets closer to her – the fortune teller helps by moving out of his way.

“- Mina, I was… too… I was too late…”

Should she play along…? This is a hallucination, right? Were Ciel to have been the first to find her body, or some such story, she wouldn’t be able to gain that knowledge after death.

Right now, though, she still feels like herself, and nothing will ever stop Mina Keys from investigating.

“- What… Like… You’re the one who found my body or something?”

She tries to sit up but she fails. She feels light headed and her voice is hoarse. It makes sense that her body would feel so strained – she was strangled, after all.

Ciel lets out a choked-up sounding gulp. Looking at him from the ground – actually, the sand – her keen eye notices large white marks surrounding his neck.

“- Why…?”

The question escapes her before she can think about it. She finds her hand reaching up for him.

(Why?)

Is this rather a nightmare? Traumatised by what happened to her, she projects it onto someone she wouldn’t want to see being hurt.

“- Mina… When I saw Oscar carry you…

- Oscar?!”

The Ultimate Fashionista (though she’ll likely be replaced soon herself) can’t help but intervene, and if Mina takes note of it – as she takes note of everything – her wide eyes can’t stare away from the youthful face above her.

“- …I tried to chase him… Well, right then, I didn’t know for sure that he was carrying you…

- You fool…!”

She finds herself having darted upright, grabbing at his t-shirt.

Even sitting, even with someone her age, she feels so stupidly small, as always.

“- Chasing after Oscar? Did you have a death wish?”

Tears escape from his eyes, and for some reason, Mina’s cheeks are wet.

“- I couldn’t abandon you…”

She lets out a gross sniffle.

This isn’t a hallucination… neither a nightmare… This is actually Hell.

“- What’s it worth now…?”

Her voice is shaky. She understands exactly what happened… she doesn’t need to know more.

Same guy, same modus operandi. Ciel was a witness, in the wrong place, at the wrong time. When Oscar Belmonte perpetrated his premeditated crime against the Ultimate Detective, an innocent bystander got caught in the crossfire…

…No, that’s not exactly right. She knows the truth… That her shifty attitude led her only real ally to put himself in harm’s way. Now look at the both of them.

Though she continues to sniffle loudly, her understanding of the situation allows her to become less tense. She lets go of the fabric she was holding and looks around her.

On her right, the Ultimate Fashionista bites her nails. Is this massacre going to continue? Without the Ultimate Detective to solve the case, is everyone else but the “bodyguard” going to join them here? On her left, the Ultimate Fortune-Teller stares at the sea, holding their knees against their torso.

Ciel won’t stop crying. He didn’t want to die. Everything she did, she did it for people like him, who can’t defend themselves. For people who are small, caught up in something bigger than them.

Her fringe has long dried but her braids still feel damp. She reaches for her ties and undoes them.

“- Anything you tell me to do, I’ll do.

- Hm?”

Benjamin answered her question before she could ask it. It shouldn’t have caught her off-guard like it did – she needs to get her shit in order. She knows the extent of his talent.

“- I won’t believe in it, but if I can make it up to you by doing anything that’ll put your mind at ease, I will.

- What are you talking about?”

Emily again. Ciel tries to cover his own sobs.

“- I need a new guard dog, and Benjamin owes me one, is what it’s about.”

By using their powerful talents, they’ll try everything to understand this place and get Ciel and Emily out of it.

“- So?” Mina gets to ask.

He looks at the detective, then the “clown”, then the fashionista. He stays silent for abnormally long.

(He seems depressed.)

“- That’s all… I guess Oscar gets caught.”

Benjamin’s attitude told her so. They weren’t expecting anyone else to land here…

She chuckles sadly. If the others survived Oscar, then they all outsmarted her, and what used to be her talent has become nothing more than a strange hobby.