#delightful judge for my first time in the ring

[waaayoutofline]

Like Seeing A Ghost.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Prompt: Married life and family core.

Summary: Your teenage daughter changed styles, and you cant help but be remained of a certain someone.

Warnings: None. Just love and fluff.

WORD COUNT: 1490

AN: I wrote this under the wonderful influence of sleep depravation. I just corrected it grammatically. It’s the first time I have written a family related prompt, so sorry but it’ll probably be a bit cringey :´). YDN stands for: Your daughters name btw—

It was a quiet day in the Maximoff household, a rare sense of calm settling over the space. Humming softly, you switched off the vacuum and put it away, satisfied with the tidiness of the room. The peaceful silence was soon interrupted by the doorbell, drawing your attention with mild curiosity. “I’ve got it!” you called, making your way to the door. You didn’t need to check the peephole, you already knew who it was. “Darling, finally! Your mother is almost finished with—oh dear gods.”

You froze as your 16-year-old daughter stepped inside. Taking in her appearance, your eyes widened in surprise. She shifted uncomfortably under your gaze, clearly bracing herself for the reaction that didn’t come as quickly as she expected.

Gone were her typical morning clothes, replaced by a more alternative look. She wore an oversized black t-shirt featuring an old rock band, her arms covered in fishnet sleeves, fingers adorned with silver rings and chains. Her makeup, though still a work-in-progress, was heavy with black eyeliner and smudged dark red eyeshadow. A silver cross dangled from her freshly pierced ear. She completed the outfit with a mid-length skirt and red Converse sneakers. If it weren’t for her eyes—the same color as yours—you might not have recognized her at first. But even then, the look wasn’t unfamiliar. She resembled someone else you knew all too well.

“It’s… it’s—” you began, voice faltering. Your daughter braced herself even more, her posture defiant, though you could see flickers of uncertainty in her expression. That defiant stance finally broke your composure.

“It’s like seeing a ghost! Oh, my beautiful girl,” you exclaimed, bursting into delighted laughter. “It’s like going back in time. Wanda, darling, come here, please!” you called out, grinning at the uncanny resemblance.

Your heart swelled with nostalgia and amusement. You never thought you’d see such a familiar look on your own child, yet here she was, carrying a piece of the past into the present.

“What is it, love? Is it Y/D/N? I made her favorite,” Wanda called, wiping her hands with a kitchen towel before stopping abruptly. “Oh wow. This is… definitely a surprise.”

Your daughter, tired of the mixed reactions from both of you, crossed her arms defensively. “Before you say anything—no, I didn’t get any piercings or tattoos. But this is how I want to dress from now on. And if you have any issues with it, then…”

Your eyes softened at the sight of her defiance fading into vulnerability. You glanced at Wanda, who nodded. “Darling, you don’t owe us any explanations,” she said gently.

“I… don’t?” Y/D/N repeated, tentatively. You took a step forward, resting a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“Of course not. You know your mom and I want you to discover who you are. All we care about is that you don’t hurt yourself in the process. Why would you think we’d be upset?”

Your daughter’s shoulders relaxed as the tension eased. “A… friend of mine dresses like this, and her parents didn’t take it well. They told her if she didn’t dress ‘normal,’ they’d send her to some creepy summer camp.”

Wanda frowned. “Well, they’re idiots.” Your daughter smiled at that. “They are! Like your mom said, we’ll never judge you for who you are. All we want is for you to be safe and happy.”

With that, she smiled and pulled you both into a hug. “Thanks for being such cool parents.” You exchanged a glance with Wanda and hugged her back.

“I mean… if we weren’t, we’d be total hypocrites.” Your daughter tilted her head in curiosity, prompting a laugh from you as you moved toward the living room.

Wanda scoffed. “Oh, don’t you dare, Y/N,” she warned playfully, following close behind, already anticipating your next move. Before she could stop you, you pulled out the family photo album. Your daughter plopped down next to you on the couch, while Wanda took her place on the armrest, wearing a mock pout.

Flipping through the pages, you found what you were looking for. “Why haven’t I seen this before?” Y/D/N asked, eyes wide with interest.

“These are from years before you were born,” you explained softly, turning the album’s pages with care. “Most were taken when your mother and I first met. We kept them hidden… because she was a little shy about them.”

Wanda playfully nudged your arm, her smile a little bashful. “Do you really have to show them? I’d like for our daughter to still respect me, you know.”

You grinned, glancing at your daughter. “Of course, I do! I mean, just look at her. You two are practically twins—it’s adorable.”

Wanda rolled her eyes, though her blush deepened. “You’re having too much fun with this.”

As you flipped another page, your daughter gasped, eyes widening in disbelief. Wanda’s face turned a deep shade of red as she quickly covered her face with her hands, her embarrassment palpable. You, however, couldn’t stop the grin spreading across your face. “Mom, why didn’t you tell me you were so cool?” Y/D/N exclaimed, her excitement bubbling over as she snatched the album from you, flipping through the pictures like a child on Christmas morning.

“What do you mean “were”?” Wanda huffed in mock offense. “I’m still cool!”

A brief silence followed, punctuated only by Wanda’s playful exasperation. You reached out, squeezing her hand, the warmth of her skin grounding both of you. The resemblance between mother and daughter was striking, as if time had folded in on itself. “That picture,” you said, pointing to a particular one, “was taken around the time I first met your mom. She was this emo, tough, and incredibly intimidating girl—” You started dramatically, glancing at Wanda, who shot you a half-hearted glare.

“Okay, okay, no need to humiliate me further,” Wanda cut in, trying to maintain some shred of dignity.

“Humiliate?” You softened your voice, your eyes meeting hers. “That was the version of you I fell in love with.” You turned another page, your tone warm and nostalgic. “I mean, the whole ‘bad girl’ thing really worked for me.”

“Mom, gross!” Y/D/N laughed, wrinkling her nose in mock disgust.

You nudged her playfully. “Oh, hush. What I’m trying to say is… I fell in love with that Wanda, and every version after her.”

With each page you turned, years passed in the photographs. Different styles, changing haircuts, moments of growth captured in still images. But one thing remained constant—your love.

“…and the next,” you continued quietly. “Because that’s what love is. It’s not about how someone dresses or looks. It’s about loving them for who they are, through every version, and with how they express themselves to the world.”

You closed the album gently and reached for your daughter’s hands, holding them tenderly. “That’s why no matter how you choose to present yourself, it will never change how we feel about you. You are our daughter, and we will always love you—no matter what.” Y/D/N smiled, her eyes bright with relief and understanding. Wanda, still blushing from your words, looked at both of you with so much love that it was almost overwhelming. A sudden thought crossed her mind, her lips curving into a small, playful smile.

“You know,” Wanda began, her voice light, “if you’re interested, I still have some of those clothes.”

Your daughter’s eyes lit up. “No way.”

“Oh yes, way. Why don’t you start by heading up to the attic? I’ll join you in a sec.”

In an instant, your daughter gave Wanda a quick, excited hug before practically running towards the stairs. You and Wanda exchanged a glance, bursting into quiet laughter. As you stood up, Wanda caught you by the waist, pulling you close, her eyes filled with nothing but love. For a moment, the world seemed to shrink down to just the two of you. She leaned in and kissed you, slow and tender.

“Mama! Do you still have that red jacket?” your daughter called from upstairs, breaking the moment. Wanda sighed, chuckling under her breath as she pulled away.

“I do!” Wanda called back, her voice filled with affection. “In fact, that jacket I stole from Auntie Nat!”

Another excited shriek echoed down the stairs, and you both shared a fond look.

“I better go before she tears down the attic,” Wanda said with a small smile, taking a step back.

You nodded, watching her as she began to leave, but she paused at the doorway and turned back, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

“Hey,” she whispered, “I am cool, right?”

A full, hearty laugh escaped you, the sound filling the room with warmth. “Yeah, Wanda. You’re the coolest.”

Wanda grinned, the playful tension melting away as she disappeared up the stairs, leaving you with a heart full of love and a smile that lingered long after she was gone.

[abirddogmoment]

tearing up ringside because the delightful judge said he could see signs of brilliance in my puppy

[some-bunniii]

My Charming Red Savior [2]

・❥ Two odd visitors and a mugging. Can’t you stay out of trouble?

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |

x: he’s back!! a little longer this time, 8k words. enjoy!

That evening after meeting Alastor, you sat at your friend’s dining table, your mind racing.

Your finger aimlessly twisted that gold ring he had magically placed on your digit, as you explained what happened. The creep harassing you, Alastor swooping in to save you. All of it laid out for your friend to digest. Which she wasn’t taking it very well.

“I mean, I'm glad that demon helped you out of that, but you should have gotten away as soon as possible! Haven’t you heard what he’s done, what kind of deals people have made with him?”

You sighed, feeling a bit frustrated with your friend's skepticism. "Look, I get it, you're worried. But Alastor isn't what everyone makes him out to be. He helped me when I needed it most. Besides, who are we to judge someone solely based on rumors?"

Your friend leaned forward, her eyes fixed on the ring adorning your finger. "What about that? What if it's some sort of trap he set for you?"

You instinctively pulled your hand back, a protective gesture. "Don't be ridiculous. Alastor wouldn't do something like that. He's... different."

"Different? More like dangerous," she countered, reaching out to grab your hand. "Come on, let me see that ring. We can take it to someone to see if it’s been magically altered."

Dangerous? He saved you from someone dangerous! Yes, he was a demon. A sinner, who probably did some bad things, and most likely continues to do bad things. Except, for the fact he didn’t leave you, a defenseless nobody, to be taken off and.. you couldn’t even think about it. 

You jerked your hand away from her hand, the ring glinting in the lamplight. "There’s nothing wrong with the ring, you’re just being paranoid. It’s.. comforting, actually."

Your friend sighed, frustration evident in her voice. "I just don't want to see you get hurt. Please, at least consider what I'm saying."

You softened, realizing she was only looking out for you. "I appreciate your concern, I really do. But I’m not a child, I can make my own decisions."

Your friend relented after a moment, sinking back into her chair. She nodded slowly, agreeing with your statement.

At that moment, your friend’s husband had entered the room. A large pot of steaming foodstuff in his oven-mitt protected hands as he walked. 

“I hope you guys are hungry!” He said cheerfully, the tension in the room easing with his upbeat demeanor. You quite liked him, he had some good jokes and cared about those around him.

You smile gratefully, welcoming the distraction from the intense conversation. “Absolutely starving,” you reply, grateful for the opportunity to shift the focus to something more light-hearted.

Your friend’s husband sets the pot on the table, filling the room with the delightful aroma of home-cooked food. “Well, dig in!” he encourages, serving everyone generous portions.

As you take a bite, the flavors dance on your palate, and your eyes light up as you eat. 

“What is this?” You turn to her husband, who looked up from his bowl, face stuffed with food.

“Crawfish Étouffée! A popular dish from New Orleans, back on Earth. Do you like it?”

You nodded vigorously. Is this what Jambalaya tastes like? If so, you really needed to try it. Maybe, you’d see Alastor again, and he could give you that recipe he had mentioned? 

As your thoughts drifted back to the red demon, your finger began to twist the ring around your digit once more. Why did it bring you such comfort? You had no idea. 

Sometimes, if you put your hand to your face, you could smell faint traces of his scent, that you had first memorized when you walked side by side with him. It smelled like an old cologne, something that you couldn’t quite recognize from your days. Maybe, it was back when he was alive? 

Lemony, hay-like and grassy. A whiff of licorice. Something peppery too? You couldn’t quite place it. But every deep inhale sent you into a lull. A trance, almost.

Your finger still mindlessly caressed the golden band a while later, during the early hours of the morning. You had been sweeping the front doors to the formalwear store you worked at, tidying up before it would be opened for customers. 

It wasn’t until you heard the sound of someone clearing their throat, did you get pulled back into reality.

“Pardon me, miss. Are you guys open?” 

Turning around to address the voice, you find no one. It wasn’t until you looked down did you see the demon man. He resembled that of an imp. Dark red skin with thin, striped horns that peaked out of the top of his head. 

He wore a white turtleneck, with long white hair that curled around his chin. His eyes were unreadable, hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. They were Ray-Burn glasses. You could immediately tell from the bridge, which were curved to resemble a half-circle rather than an oval. 

You also knew how high-end that brand was, and it wasn’t easy getting a pair either. The wait for those was no joke. And, this style was from their newest collection, which meant that he had to be of some importance to get one so soon.

His posture also struck you as odd, especially for an imp. He stood tall, shoulders back, head held high. Despite being a part of one of the lowest social classes in Hell, the demon regarded everyone and everything around him with an air of confidence and assertiveness. 

It was also odd that he was wearing sunglasses so early in the morning, there wasn’t really much light to need protection from. Maybe he had some bat genetics in him?

You smiled at him, but shook your head. “I’m sorry, sir. We’re closed right now. You’ll have to come back later.”

The imp visibility deflated at your words, a frown etched on his face. You could see his eyes through the shades just enough to show them flicking down the streets. 

“Oh, okay. That’s fine, I guess. Thanks, I'll just.. have to figure something else out.” 

He backed away, as he scanned the nearby stores again. He muttered to himself, too quiet for you to hear, but his tone sounded scolding. As if he was berating himself. The demon bit his lip, as if he was contemplating something.

A pang of sympathy hit you, as you watched him become more anguished. It seemed like he really needed whatever was inside, and you didn’t have a reason to deny him business other than to follow the official hours of operation. 

Placing the broom against the brick wall, you pulled out a set of keys. The demon turned slightly as he heard its jingle, and you met his shaded gaze. 

“There isn’t really anything else I need to do before opening though, so I suppose it’s not a big issue letting you inside.”

The imp perked, a smile blooming on his lips at your words. You bent to turn the lock with a click. Pulling the door handle, you pulled it behind you, allowing the demon to follow you inside.

“That is so kind of you! Truly, you don’t get to meet many kind and considerate people in this place.”

Well, it was Hell. Being friendly to strangers was not a common occurrence. You just weren’t one of the, well, bad ones. Sure, you had some flaws, you weren’t a resident for no reason. But, you prided yourself in having a reasonable moral code.

“Don’t worry, I know what I need. I’ll be quick!” The imp promised, as he passed through the entryway. The large room was dark, besides the morning light casting through the windows.

You flicked on the lights, and the overhead lamps lit the interior of the store. There were mannequins lining the dark-blue walls, styled in different tuxedos and dress shirts. Next to them were rows of shelves, each specific to a type of garment. There were dress pants, vests, shoes, and smaller accessories like ties and belts. 

As you walked behind the black-granite countertop, the imp had hurried over to a mannequin facing out of a glass display. He reached down near its feet, a small shelf lifted from the floor. A pile of red suits was neatly tucked next to the display. 

Gingerly, he lifted to the top piece, examining it thoroughly. After a few moments, he brought it closer to his chest, before turning to you. Your hands tapped against the display of the digital cash register, readying it for service.

You looked up just as he placed the garment on the counter, your eyes scanning the suit. Strange, he was still wearing those shades. You simply smiled at him, before pulling the item closer to you. Carefully, you unfolded it, examining its form.

It was a beautiful red tuxedo, with golden lapels. Dark-red buttons, with white cuffs. It was a women’s suit, which was rare for you to see, since the store mostly marketed towards men. 

“What a wonderful piece!” You exclaimed, your tone dripping with customer-satisfying professionalism. “Getting this for a special someone?” 

The imp nodded. “For my daughter. She runs a hotel a few blocks away, up the hill. The Hazbin Hotel, if you've heard of it? She needed a new suit, and this was the perfect fit.”

The hotel that was supposed to help sinners with redemption? You’ve heard bits and pieces, mostly when you watched that disastrous interview with Katie Killjoy. You couldn’t recall who ran it, though.

“A little, but you sure do have an eye for style!” You nodded, grabbing the small tag from the sleeve to input the information into the register.

“Well, it was my sweetheart who picked it out first,” the imp gushed, “I can’t take all the credit, I'm not good at these sorts of things, anyway.”

“Do they have a background in fashion?” 

“No, they’re an artist,” the demon beamed, his voice growing softer as he spoke of his lover, “I can promise, you’ve never seen a real painting until you’ve seen theirs. If it were my way, I'd fill every billboard with them, instead of those.. repulsive pornography ads they have downtown.” 

The imp held a look of pride and admiration as he spoke, obviously having full confidence in his claim. You pulled up the item on your screen, and read him the price. It was not a cheap suit, but the demon had no reaction to the total and simply pulled out his wallet. 

“Is business running smoothly at the hotel? Do you guys get a lot of guests?”

The imp contemplated for a moment, before pulling out a large sum of money, placing it gently on the counter. You reached for it, before licking your finger and counting through the bills.

“Not entirely. It just opened recently, and, with the demons it caters to? Hah, there’s not many around here with the mindset of redemption. But, I'm going to be helping her out, supporting her with the work.” 

What a nice father, helping his daughter out like that. If only someone like that had helped you when you were younger, maybe you would be stu-

“Especially when it comes to keeping an eye on some of the.. colorful characters she calls staff. Like that Radio Demon.” As the imp spoke, you could hear the disdain in his tone, as he uttered that name. Your head shot up from the bills in your hand at his words.

Radio demon? Alastor? Alastor was working at the Hazbin Hotel? 

“As in, the tall red guy with deer antlers? Carries a staff around with a microphone on it?” You questioned him, excitement lacing your voice.

“Yes. Do you know him? Word of advice, stay away from that demon. He’s nothing but a self-serving, pompous show-off.” 

That couldn’t be true, could it?

Quickly, you placed the bills into the cash register, pulling out change to hand to the imp. As he took the money in your hand, you found it right to defend Alastor.

“He helped me out of a tough spot awhile ago, practically saved my life, actually.” 

The demon regarded you for a moment, eyebrows raised as he took in your words. He didn’t argue, seemingly trying to leave as fast as possible. Back to the hotel presumably. “Hmph. Well, just be careful, you never know with demons like him.”

You were about to wish him farewell and turn away, before his hand lifted once more. Looking down, he held another stack of money in his hands, you could faintly read ‘100’ on one of the bills alone.

“For your kindness,” the demon stated simply, giving you a wink, “I enjoyed our short chat, there’s not many people down here I'm interested in talking to. Go treat yourself.” 

Your eyes widened at his words. How did he have so much money he could just.. give it away?! You almost wanted to reject his offering. But, money was money, so you took them from his grip. 

“I-I don’t know what to say, but thank you! This is very generous of you.” 

He only shrugged, sending you a charming smile. “I am indeed a very generous person. Just don’t spend it on drugs, or anything like that.”

As you handed him the small pink bag, his shaded gaze landed on the ring on your finger, and he leaned in just an inch to get a closer look.

“Boy, that is a fine piece of jewelry you’ve got there! Very nice, was it from a lover? It really makes a statement! Just curious.. do you by any chance know where you got it from?”

You tilted your head, wondering why he wanted to know, was he planning on getting one himself? You just shook your head, you couldn’t really tell him it magically poofed onto your finger by the same demon he held negative feelings for. 

He nodded, muttering something like ‘that’s fine’, before pivoting away from you towards the door. 

“Adios!” He called, a hand in the air in farewell as he strolled to the exit. The bell above the door jingled as it closed behind him, and you saw him step near the curb, away from your view. 

Suddenly, a flash of gold illuminated the small window on the door. Crossing the room, you peeked out the large display window. There was no one on the street, even when you cranked your head to both sides of the street. It’s like he just.. vanished. Strange.

You flipped the large sign on the window from ‘Closed’ to ‘Open’ before returning behind the counter. Your fingers still holding the money he gave you, your mind elsewhere as you waited for the day to begin. 

Your thoughts were still on that encounter when the assistant manager walked up to you a few hours later. He was a rather short, plump man with small horns protruding from his head. His skin was a pale blue, his figure resembling that of an ox. Alan was his name. 

You weren’t very fond of him, he always threw flirtatious comments and jokes at you. Always insisting to join you behind the counter, or lean right over your shoulder when you worked. He reminded you too much of that creep from the streets, which made you uncomfortable.

What was up with you always attracting the questionable suitors? Maybe your friend at the cafe was right, you weren’t going to find ‘The One,’ you’d just have to settle for less.

Alan would always try and pry into your personal life, asking if you had a lover, or kids. You’d simply change the conversation as smoothly as possible. If you told him we’re single, he’d no doubt try and court you. Which made you nervous, he didn’t seem like someone who could take a rejection. 

You weren’t able to say, ‘why yes, I have a hubby of my own!’ because you never had proof. Without a ring, and the rest of your co-workers aware of your singlehood, you knew lying to him would have consequences.

Not to mention, he was your boss. He had power, and unless you wanted to end up homeless on the street, you had to keep a friendly facade with him. 

Luckily, he wasn’t around much. Except today your manager had meetings out of town, and he was the substitute. So, for now, you were stuck with him.

“Hey, you still know how to use that sewing machine in the back, right?” He asked you after you had finished assisting a customer near the large display window.

You nodded, curious about his question. In truth, being a tailor sounded much better than working for customer service. You had spent late nights slowly practicing the craft, on that ancient sewing machine in your basement. Maybe, you’d use that money the imp gave you to buy a new one.

“Well, Darlene just called in, which means I got no one as my seamstress. We’ve got a few pieces in need of mending, you think you can handle that?”

“Oh, sure! I can do that, no problem.”

It was then you heard the bell above the front entrance jingle slightly and the creak as the door opened, which caused you to turn sharply to greet the newcomer. Except.. there was no one there.

That was strange. There were other customers milling about, but you were standing in a position that made it impossible to miss anyone exiting the building. 

“Must be having strong winds or something.” Alan remarked, and you turned back to him. As you moved, you noticed the corner next to the doorway was more shaded than usual. As if a large black shadow had taken residence there. Perhaps an overhead light went out? You’d have to check on that later. 

“Anyway, I wanted to ask you something,” Alan started, a flirtatious smile on his lips as he lowered his voice, “I’ve got VIP access to a new club that just opened a few blocks down. I was thinking you and I could get some drinks and have a little fun, whatcha say?” 

You groaned internally. Not this again. How were you going to say no this time? 

“Well, I mean, um- you see the thing is…”

Your eyes went down to the ring on your digit, that little A shimmering in the light. Maybe, you could use this.

“… I’m already taken!” You exclaim, your hand shooting up to give Alan a front row seat at the prize on your person. 

“You are?” He asked incredulously.

“Mhm!” You nod your head vigorously. “As you can see, this is my wedding ring. I eloped not too long ago, hence why it’s not common knowledge.” 

Hopefully, he would buy your lie.

Alan stood there, his eyes flicking from you to the ring. Was he going to try and fight your claim? It seemed like he wanted to. Before you even gave him the chance to, you whipped towards the door being the counter to start mending.

You had only used the machine in the back a handful of times, but you were trying to become more familiar with it. Nodding, you quickly slipped into the back room. The hum of the old sewing machine greeted you like an old friend as you fired it up and began to mend the pieces in need of repair.

The rhythmic clacking of the needle against fabric filled the air as you lost yourself in the task at hand, the radio beside you playing soft old-timey melodies in the background. You continued this calm pace for a few hours, thankful to be away from Alan and the bustling state of the store.

Until a familiar static-laced voice broke through the music. 

“Hello, sir! My, what a hellish morning it is!” 

Your foot instantly moved off the pedal nestled under the table, the vibrations from the machine ceasing as it stilled. You strained your ears, is that who you thought it was?

“Oh, why hello there! How can I assist you today?” You heard the loud, boisterous voice of Alan as he welcomed the newcomer. Quickly, you left your seat, and peaked through the small crack in the doorway. 

Your breath quickened as your eyes landed on the tall, red demon. Alastor. How did he get in here? You didn’t hear the loud bell jingle at his entrance.

He sported his usual red coat, with his staff resting lazily in his grip as he stood before the demon. He had a large smile on his face, but his eyes spoke differently. He looked absolutely bored, disinterested in the man before him and his surroundings.

“I’m simply here to adjust some wear-and-tear on my suit,” he remarked, “as you can see, my sleeve has taken quite the nasty wound.”

He lifted up his arm, displaying a tiny piece of missing fabric from the cuff. It was a clean slice, as if someone had taken a knife and barely nicked it. Nasty wasn’t exactly how you’d describe it, more like itty bitty. 

“If I may..” Alan leaned in slightly, reaching out to inspect the tear. 

Alastor only pulled his arm back, rejecting the gesture with a subtle yet firm movement.

“I prefer to handle my own attire, thank you,” Alastor stated, his voice carrying a hint of disdain as he withdrew his sleeve from Alan’s reach. His smile widened further, as he stared at the demon. 

Your boss recoiled slightly, taken aback by Alastor’s abrupt refusal. “Oh, of course. My apologies,” he stammered, attempting to regain her composure, “but not to worry, sir! We’ve got fabrics that match and a seamstress to do the work. Let me go grab her for you, I'll be right back!”

You saw Alan turn in your direction, and you backed away from the door. Your heart raced as you realized you were going to actually be face to face with Alastor again. How would he react to your presence?

You shot into your seat, spinning around towards the machine. You stepped on the pedal, and the machine hummed to life once more. The door opened, and Alan poked his head in.

“Hey, there’s a customer who needs some assistance. Get out here.”

His head disappeared from view, leaving you alone once more. Exhaling a large breath to ease your nerves, you rose from your seat. Quickly, you walked over to the door and gripped the handle tightly. Another deep breath, and you pulled it open gingerly before taking a step outside. 

Your boss was back beside Alastor, who towered over the man. As you slowly entered the room, Alastor’s eyes moved to you. They lit up with interest, the smile seeming to shrink slightly. The crooked edges on his smile softened too, appearing more genuine as he regarded you.

“Ah, there you are, my dear! I was hoping to find you here.” Alastor called to you. He stepped right past Alan, completely ignoring his presence as he strode up to you. 

As he closed the distance, you became awfully aware of how fast your heart was beating inside your chest. That smell of lemons and licorice hit your nose as he stood before you, and it eased your nerves as you took a quick inhale of breath. 

He turned, allowing Alan to see both of your faces as he slowly reached out to take your hand. His thumb gently grazed against the gold band and it spun slightly. Your breath hitched at his touch.

“It is so nice to be able to visit my dear wife at her place of work,” Alastor started, his gaze shooting to Alan as he spoke, “and, to meet her lovely coworkers! A pleasure indeed.” 

Did he hear you telling Alan about your ring? He couldn’t have, but there seemed to be no other reason for him to bring up the whole marriage farce.

Alastor turned back to you, finger still softly caressing your hand as he turned his attention to his sleeve. 

“It appears I’ve gotten into another miscommunication with an overly confident adversary, similar to what I spoke to you about before. Would you care to assist me, my love?” 

Your eyes momentarily snapped to Alan, who had turned a paler shade as he watched Alastor’s actions. Now, he was finally seeing who your ‘husband’ was. It appeared to be quite a shocker for the demon.

Your gaze flicked back to Alastor, who stood next to you. That grin of his hiding whatever emotions he was feeling as he slowly released your grip, indicating for you to lead him away.

“Thank you for coming to visit, Alastor. I can stitch that up for you, you’ll just need to let me take it for a bit.” You smiled at him, doing your best to play the part with professionality. What, were you supposed to just start calling him pet names like ‘honey’ and ‘babe’?

“I think I'd prefer keeping it on.” Alastor said curtly, adjusting his collar.

He wanted to still be wearing it while you fixed it? That meant you couldn’t use the sewing machine, without risking injury to him. 

“… I suppose you can just follow me, then.” You replied, turning away as you beckoned him towards the back room. 

Alan didn’t follow the two of you, maybe Alastor’s comments threw him off. You hoped they did, you had enough of that guy for one day. 

You opened the dark gray door, pulling it wide so Alastor could follow behind. The back room was a cozy nook from the busy establishment, half of it transformed into a makeshift tailoring nook. A small step stool nestled among tall mirrors allowed a multi-angle look for customers getting a fitting.

Rolls of fabric lined orderly shelves nearby, accompanied by an array of sewing essentials. In the corner, a small table and chair housed the ancient sewing machine. You walked forward, before realizing 

“Oh, i’m sorry, I don’t have another chair. Let me go get one!” You pivoted to go find a spare, but Alastor only lifted his hand in a sweeping motion, brushing off your attempt.

“Not to worry, my dear! I’ve got it under control.”

He reached a hand forward, gripping the air like he was grabbing the top of the backrest of a chair. He tugged at the air, and a plume of green smoke wafted from his fingertips as he pulled a wooden chair from the smoke.

You stared, mesmerized as he dragged it next to your seat. He gingerly lowered himself, and plopped into the chair. That had to be powerful magic, for him to be able to produce such an object easily from thin air. Just like he did with the seasoning.

Quickly, you gathered the necessary essentials to begin fixing his garment. A couple of needles, some dark red thread, and multiple fabrics that you seemed the closest to his suit’s color. 

While you collected the items in a small bin, Alastor sat comfortably behind you. His nails clicking against his cane rhythmically as the music from the radio filled the room. 

He hummed softly along to the melody, obviously familiar with the tune playing. You had heard it before, a classic rendition of ‘Once In A While’ by Lennie Hayton. It was a softer tune, and an orchestral piece that allowed you to drift into a comfortable lull. 

As you carried the bin back to your seat, you nestled in beside him. There was a small distance between the two of you, your knees a few inches from grazing each other.

“May I?” You asked, holding out your hand to take his sleeve. You thought Alastor was going to react negatively to the gesture, like he did with Alan. Instead, he carefully reached out his arm, allowing you to pull his sleeve down to the surface of the table. 

You tried very hard not to touch his skin, as you adjusted the tear on his cuff to face you. Grabbing a few pieces of fabric, you began to hold them next to his sleeve, attempting to find the perfect match.

“So, what happened this time? Surely, not that snake demon from before.” You spoke, trying to spark conversation with your ‘husband’.

“Ha, I’m glad you do remember our last conversation! I was worried you'd forgotten as the days went by.” Alastor started, sinking deeper into his seat. He placed his cane against the table, 

‘Of course, I'd remember,’ you thought, ‘I can’t get you out of my head, no matter how I try.’

“I had found myself in a rather lively discussion with a particularly vexing imp. Tiny thing, but full of mischief and malice. Managed to get itself tangled in my grip during our little altercation.” He chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “I must say, it put up quite the fight for something no larger than a rat. But fear not, I emerged victorious, albeit with a few battle scars.” 

Alastor gestured towards the tear on his sleeve, his eyes sparkling with amusement. You smiled at his words, a small chuckle coming from your throat as you pulled another piece of fabric to his cuff.

Finally, you found the color that matched his attire, and you carefully began cutting a large piece from the roll. 

“I’m going to have to hand sew your tear, is that okay?”

“Of course, my dear! Just try not to poke me, hm?” 

You nodded with a smile, before plucking the small needle from the table. 

With nimble fingers, you carefully align the edges of the fabric, pinching them together to ensure a snug fit. Holding the needle firmly between your thumb and forefinger, you begin to weave the thread in and out with practiced precision, creating neat, tiny stitches along the seam.

“I have been meaning to ask, how did the seasoning I gave you fare?” Alastor spoke, his eyes filled with intrigue as he waited for your response.

“Oh! It was fantastic!” You beamed, your mouth watering slightly as you recalled the wonderful dinner from that night. “They made Crawfish Étouffée, and it was very delicious.” 

“Ah! Yes, that dish was a staple back in New Orleans, when I was alive. Folks would gather all over to get a taste of my mother’s own twist on the delicacy. She was quite the cook, and her skill never faltered.” 

As you listened, you realized his voice softened quite more when he spoke of his mother. That static in his tone seemed to disperse as he mentioned her, and you caught a glimpse of his true voice behind that radio overlay. 

“Well, now that I've gotten a glimpse into such an art. I really am interested in trying your Jambalaya.” You spoke genuinely, your fingers still delicately lacing the thread across his sleeve. 

“I am pleased to hear that,” Alastor hummed, “I’ll have to bring you a sample the next time I'm in the area.”

Silence filled the room, other than the music that wafted from the radio’s speaker. You continued to adjust and stitch together his sleeve, very close to finishing the mending work. 

Even though there were no words spoken between the two of you, the silence was not awkward at all. The two of you simply sat comfortably in each other's presence.

Behind you, the slight crack in the door allowed you to hear the loud voice of Alan, as he spoke to another customer. Alastor’s ears twitched slightly as he heard the demon speaking, his body tensing momentarily.

“Has that wretch been bothering you often?” Alastor spoke after a moment, the static in his voice growing thicker as he spoke of Alan. His claws slightly dug into the table, a faint trail embedded in the wood.

“Well, he doesn't treat me like that succubus did. But, he does not drop the subject of us becoming romantically involved. It gets.. uncomfortable, I guess.”

You sighed as the words slipped from your tongue, a frown forming on your lips as you thought of his many attempts to swoon you. Alastor’s head tilted at your words, that smile cracked even wider as you continued to carefully slip the needle through the fabric. 

“Would you like me to ĐɆVØɄⱤ Ⱨł₴ ₴ØɄⱠ?” 

You jerked your head up at his words, surprise etched on your face as you turned to him. His voice had changed, the last bit of his sentence distorting into pure static, and you almost didn’t catch his words.

The room crackled with energy, causing your hair to practically stand on end. It was chilling, and you shivered subconsciously at the feeling. The room seemed to darken as Alastor stared at you, his pupils shrinking to resemble radio dials.

“Excuse me?” You questioned, your tone never faltering from its original octane. Which surprised you, since this powerful demon was looking at you with such murderous intent.

‘It’s not you he wants to murder.’ the voice in your head whispered. Which made your heart flutter, was Alastor wanting to kill for you? That was.. unconventionally sweet. 

Is that what he did to the succubus the other night when you weren’t looking? 

“If the little oaf can’t keep his words to himself, then there is no place for him to continue to sour your mood.” Alastor explained, his eyes taking their original form slowly as he spoke, and the distortion in his tone subsided.

The shadow festering around you slowly shrank away from your seat, illuminating the room once more. That cold feeling that gripped at your shoulders vanished. 

It wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling that left you, even if it smelled of darkness and destruction. It felt almost.. comforting to you. Like the shadow was pulling you into a protective hug, the chill cooling your heated skin into a soothing embrace. 

You only shook your head, “He doesn’t need to die for something like that. And, he’s my boss. Without him, the store wouldn’t run as well.”

Alastor only huffed, leaning back into his seat. His claws left the table, and were instead enclosed into a fist, as he rested his chin atop of it. 

“At least the poor bloke ceased in his courting when he realized another had already taken that place.” He shrugged, his eyes glancing down to the gold ring on your hand.

You halted, the needle hanging in the air mid-stitch. How did he know about you and Alan’s conversation? More importantly, what were his feelings about you still wearing the piece of jewelry? 

“Oh, right. Yes, I’m sorry for still wearing it, I know it was just for that moment and it was stupid for me to think I could keep it-”

“Nonsense! Do not fret, my dear.” Alastor interjected, brushing off your worry. “Think of it as a small gift to rectify the situation you were forced into that night.” 

A gift? He wanted you to keep the ring? 

“You could even go as far as to perceive it as a good luck charm, ha-ha. Trouble seems to never escape you, and if this ring can even give you an ounce of protection, why not keep it on to ensure nothing like that night happens again?”

You smiled at him, your eyebrows raised as you listened to his words. A tiny ring, protecting you? You doubted it.

“Well, thank you, Alastor. It is really nice to know someone cares in that way.” 

Alastor hummed softly in response, his toothy grin softening into a lipped smile as he turned his attention back to the music playing softly. 

The thread tightened snuggly between the two fabrics as you finished the final stitch, your other hand reaching to the small scissors next to you. Carefully, you snipped the thread as close to the sleeve as possible, and you leaned back to take a look at your work.

It looked perfect, like the garment had never taken a hit in the first place. Alastor pulled his arm back slightly, turning it over to inspect it thoughtfully.

“I must say, you have such talent with a needle and thread! When you told me you worked as a door girl, I never expected knowledge of tailoring to be in your resume as well!” 

Your cheeks heated as his compliment, and you began to slowly stand from the seat. For a moment, you wished there was something else wrong with his coat that you could fit. If only to keep him here a little longer.

What a selfish thought. You silently reprimanded yourself for such thinking, Alastor had no doubt better things to do than sit here and chit chat with a powerless nobody like you.

Alastor also left his chair, and he adjusted his collar. He gripped his cane, straightening his posture as he turned to you. 

“It seems every time we’re together, our conversations are never dull. Thank you for assisting me, I’d love to continue our talks but it appears I have other business to attend to.” 

“Back at the hotel?” You asked, as you walked with him to the doorway.

Alastor stopped in his tracks, his eyes widened slightly at your words. He tilted his head at you. “Forgive me, my dear, but I do not remember telling you such a thing. Where did you hear that from?”

Fuck. He never had told you about his place of work, and you writhed slightly under his stare as you tried to come up with an explanation.

“Oh, it’s just an imp had come in this morning, buying a tuxedo for his daughter. He said she ran the Hazbin Hotel. He also said you worked at the hotel too.”

‘And he doesn’t seem to like you.’ you added silently.

Alastor’s grip around his cane tightened, and his smile widened as he thought for a moment. A small chuckle escaped his lips, it sounded dark.

“Are you sure it was an imp, my dear?” He asked slowly.

You nodded, recalling the conversation. “Yes, short with white hair and red skin. Sunglasses too, weirdly. He was quite nice, actually. He gave me some money for helping him, nobody has ever done that for me.” 

“Ha! What a kind soul he must be. Did he say anything else to you, by chance?”

You shook your head, “no, not really.”

“A surprise, really. That imp has a knack for using his charm to bend others to his whim. I'm sure that gesture of his was nothing more than to sweep you off your feet for his antics. I’d keep your distance from demons like him, if I were you.”

Was Alastor.. jealous? He couldn't be. But, it seemed like the feelings between the two were mutual with the way he spoke with disdain. 

The imp seemed like he had someone he cared deeply for, anyway. You were sure his gesture wasn’t anything more than kindness. Although, you didn’t think Alastor would believe you if you told him.

“But, as you previously mentioned, yes,” Alastor changed the conversation, for his sake it seemed, “I do reside at the hotel in exchange for my services. Redeeming sinners is no easy feat, it needs special hands to mold such a dream into reality.”

“Well, I'm sure you’re doing a great job.” You spoke, doing your best to voice your support for him.

Alastor smiled at you, before nodding in agreement. He pulled the door open, and stepped through the doorway. You followed him, stopping at the threshold as he turned back to you. 

He lowered himself slightly, a small curtsy in your direction. As he lifted himself, he leaned closer to you.

“Until we meet again, my wife.” He spoke loudly, most likely for the others in the vicinity to hear. His voice was like honey to your ears as that faint hiss of static dispersed from his tone when his lips settled on wife.

You really did like his voice, and hopefully, you’d hear what it really sounded like more often. His eyes settled on you for a moment longer, as if he wanted to say more. He didn’t, instead turning towards the register across the room.

Leaning against the doorway, you watched Alastor stroll to the cash register. Alan stood behind the counter, and he seemed to shrink slightly under the taller demon’s gaze.

The sharp edges of Alastor’s smile returned as he watched the demon quickly ready the digital display for check-out. His pupils dilating slightly, eyes narrowed as he waited.

You had watched him leave the store, watched him stroll down the street without a glance at anyone else. That mild boredom taking over his features, like it had when he had first arrived.

For the rest of your shift, as you sewed buttons back into place or trimmed stray threads that stuck out of garments, your thoughts continued to stray to events earlier in the day. To that imp, to the ring on your finger, to Alastor and those fluffy little ears on his head.

You were still deep in thought when you clocked out, your feet carrying you out the door as your path led you to the bus stop a few blocks down.

It was a small blue sign, with the symbol of a bus engraved into it. There was no one around, the empty streets quiet as you plopped onto the bench to wait.

Your hands reached into your bag, pulling out your phone from its pocket. You scrolled through your notifications, before clicking on a message from one of your friends.

You were so deep into the screen in front of you, that you didn’t hear the quiet footsteps approach the bench. You didn’t see the knife pointed directly at your face, or the masked man who’s gaze traveled down your form. 

“Hey, you!” A voice coated with malice addressed you.

Your head shot up, and you reeled back at the large knife right in front of your nose. Your heartbeat quickened as you scrambled off the bench, the man only keeping pace with you as you backed away.

“You seem like a nice young lady, and I’d hate to ruin that pretty face of yours. Just give me everything you’ve got, and we can go our separate ways.” 

“I don’t really have anything for you to take!” You said breathlessly, your hands shaking as you pulled miniscule items from your bag. He only ripped the entire thing from your grip, throwing it behind him. 

“What about money? Hand everything over, sweet cheeks.”

You grimaced, before pulling the stack of bills the imp had given you from your person. He ripped them from your grip, before stuffing the money down his pocket.

“That’s all I have, I promise! Please let me go.” You begged, your back hitting the wall of an abandoned building behind you.

You prayed for someone to come to your rescue. Alastor graced your mind, that he’d swoop in to save you once more to save you. He was right, trouble never seemed to leave you.

This time, you’d let him tear this guy apart.

“What about jewelry, huh? I see that ring on your finger, it must cost quite a pretty penny.” The thug sleazed.

Instinctively, you brought your hand to your chest, trying to shield the band from his stare. The demon only closed the distance between the two of you, his mask grazing against your chin as he abruptly yanked you forward.

“Don't fight me, you bitch! Just give it to me, don’t make this difficult.”

His rough hand encircled around your wrist. It was harsh against your skin, and you winced in pain.

“Let go of me! I’ve already given you enough, just leave me alone!” You screamed, hoping someone would come to your aid.

He raked his hand down your finger, the ring slowly moving down your digit as he tried to dislodge it.

It was a snug fit against your skin, and it took him a few moments for him to begin pulling it off your finger. Tears pricked at your eyes as adrenaline pumped through your veins, but you dared not to move with the knife slightly pressing into your side.

Another tug, and the ring grazed over your nail as it was pulled harshly. It wasn’t able to make it past before something strange happened. 

The ring ignited in a green flame, and the thug’s hand shot away as he yelled in pain. It licked at the tip of your finger, but you felt no heat from its touch. 

You barely had time to blink, or scream before the ring exploded. It burst into a large cloud of green smoke that engulfed your figure. Shielding you from your surroundings. Energy crackled in the air, paired with a chill that made your breath visible as you gasped.

It felt like someone had reached out and gripped at the collar of your top, and you felt a much gentler tug and you were pulled backwards.

The smoke seemed to vanish, and you were drenched into darkness. You felt your feet lift off the ground, as if you were floating.

The problem, you had no idea where you were. Your heart felt like it was going to burst as you squeezed your eyes shut. It felt like hours went by, but in truth, it was only a matter of a few seconds that darkness surrounded you.

Just as quickly as it started, it ended, and your closed eyelids were hit with a ray of light. There were voices surrounding you as your feet touched on solid ground, the floor softer this time, like carpet.

The chatter stopped abruptly as you settled in place, and for a moment you felt like curling into a ball and hiding from whatever scene you had been thrusted into.

“Ah, there you are!” A familiar voice exclaimed next to you, static dripping from their words. “I was wondering how long it would be until you showed up!” 

Wait a second, was that Alastor speaking? Was he responsible for whatever the hell just happened?

Your eyes slowly opened, revealing a large room covered in dark red wallpaper that cracked with age. Gold framed the edges, and lights mounted on the walls illuminated a few paintings that filled the empty space.

It looked like a lobby. Couches nestled in a corner around a small box tv. Next to that was a small bar, bottles of liquor stacked on shelves behind the counter. 

Your eyes trailed away, before they landed on a small group of demons in front of you. Your breath quickened in fear, as you quickly scanned over their figures. 

There was a woman in a red tuxedo, her mouth slightly parted in surprise. Long platinum-blonde hair tied into a neat ponytail as it traveled down her back. Beside her, a tall snake held a hand to his chest as he leaned back slightly, as if he was more afraid of you than you were of him. 

There were a few others too, but your mind was racing so fast you weren’t able to get a settle on their frames before you eyes were bouncing around for an exit.

It wasn’t until you felt someone’s arm snake around your elbow did you whip your head to the side, Alastor’s large smile greeting you as he laced his arm with yours in comfort, no doubt noticing the way your knees were about to buckle. 

“Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, my dear!” He exclaimed, as if your arrival was expected and totally-not-strange whatsoever. His eyes were soft, doing his best to calm you with his familiar presence. You opened your mouth to speak, even though you weren’t sure exactly what to say.

“Who the fuck is that?” The fuzzy, pink spider demon piped up from the shocked onlookers. A pair of hands on his hips as he regarded you with confusion. 

Your lips upturned into a faint smile, and you lifted your hand for a half-hearted wave.

“Um, hi..?” 

I hope you enjoyed part 2! Sorry for that cliff hanger 😭 i hate doing that but had to end it somewhere haha

and.. hold up yall…

for real?! i did not expect this my first month on this app, nor at all really 😍 what started as “just this one luci one-shot..” became so much more!

Thank you all for the support and love you’ve given me, lowkey itching to buy a computer just for writing (yes, all my fics have been written with sore thumbs haha)

HUGE thanks to @spoiled-slutt for being my beta reader and helping me brainstorm ideas for this part! They’ve been an amazing help, and you should definitely check out their works if they interest you! <3

have a great day, my swans! 🦢

—

taglist:

@the-tortured-poet @anonymousewrites @coleisyn @froggybich @chewbrry @watchinthestarz @mechanicalmari @luxmessorem @plapperlapapp @wonderlife974 @kottenox @cherry-cola-100 @the-shark-named-sharon @rae-pottah @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @corpsebridenightamare @pweewee @nijiru @ourfinalisation @anuttellaa @nonetheartist @bunnypeew @cryptidghostgirl @hxzbinwrites

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Judge Claude Frollo - Piano lesson

warning : obsession, age gap, reader is in her early 20s/ Frollo is in his early 60s, some touching, Frollo is just well Frollo, naive reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sound of the piano passed through the Judge's face as he ran his long thin fingers over the keys. The music in his room caught and the man fell into a melody, his thoughts stopped revolving around the eternal fight against injustice, sin and the gypsies and he could concentrate on his right and faith.

But whenever he played the higher notes, he could not help but let his thoughts go to her. This flower in the stone walls of a church. The church that protected her as the holy daughter of the Dean of Paris.

This sweet flower like from the prettiest dreams and poems did not let him go when he saw her for the first time. How she was wrapped in white and red cloth decorated with gold, lighting the candles on a dark morning in the church.

He watched her closely as her gentle hands held the long candle to light the other smaller ones. She stood on tiptoe to reach the higher ones and he saw her ankles peeking out from under her dress. He saw her hair around her neck and the small smile on her lips as she hummed a song. She was like the rebirth of Mary.

She was everything. Which is why he knew he had to have her, she had to be his. His lover, his wife, his own Mary. She had to be an angel, he had convinced himself by now. He had to have her for himself and he knew that he would use all his power to make this happen.

But before he could put his plans into action, he heard the knock on his door. This timid gentle knocking which he immediately recognized. He took his fingers from the piano, stood up, smoothed out his clothes and went to the door.

The wood of the stairs creaked and he knew that there were few chances that this worked. It was his power, influence and his will why she was here.

Would be taught by him and no one else. It was him. He was the reason. ,,My dear, come in, don't freeze to death," he said after opening the door. He saw the first drops of rain spreading over the city and the dark rain clouds gathering over the city.

A sign from God to warn him, but Frollo ignored it. Ignored everything when he was criticized because he was always right. ,,Thank you, my Lord," she said softly, her voice like a little bell on his ears before he entered and closed the door. Everything would be only a question until he got what he wanted.

,,Let me help you," he said calmly and his hands, obsessed with rings, were already on her clothes. He helped her to take off her coat and to his delight he saw the dress underneath. Not as thick as in the church itself, it was airier, looser and with a slight look at her body, it clung to her.

Around her neck the silver chain with the small sacred coin blessed by her father. An instance that would not and could not stop him. ,,What a pretty necklace, my lady," he murmured, sliding his index finger over it, knowing how she looked at him. How close he was to her breasts and she had not yet been touched.

This naivety and insecurity like a flower that showed its blossoms for the first time in the sun and not in the dark church. ,,A gift for my birth" she replied, even though he already knew it, he acted as if it fascinated him before leaving her and pointing upwards.

,,Please, after you" he insisted and let her go ahead for a few seconds. He saw her lift her dress slightly so she wouldn't get stuck climbing the stairs. She wore no stockings and he could easily see her ankles and legs.

How her body moved under the dress and he imagined how she would look under the fabric. Like a pretty innocent lamb she was in her cage. My pretty little bird came to his mind before he followed her up the stairs and led her into the music room.

,,Your father instructed me to improve your piano playing, he said it was the precision and grace that was missing" he briefly recounted the information he had received in the letter that had delighted him at the time. A letter that made the wolf lick his teeth. It was as good as his. He saw her nod as she sat down at the piano and carefully tapped it, her fingers hovering over the keys.

,,It's true, it's a little difficult to hit the keys perfectly, as good as I am at this piece of music," she admitted before she saw him instruct her to play a piece. He leaned slightly on the piece of music, his gaze always looking down at her as he watched the music go through the room again, which Meloldie seemed familiar to him.

He could easily see her decollete even if the fabric was high so he saw it from his position. Watching her move her fingers over the keys, he saw the mistakes she made and knew exactly what he had to do.

Wordlessly he went over to her, sat down next to her on the chair and began to play with her, feeling her initial confusion as she stopped short and a light touch of his fingers on hers told her to continue.

He wanted to touch more of her warm soft skin and a few moments after she started playing again he let his fingers slide over hers again. ,,You play well for your age, but you need practice, try to touch my fingers to the same keys" he knew and looked at her nodding knowing that in her unworldly way she trusted him and would do whatever he asked.

,,Thank you Frollo...for your honesty" she seemed to dare after a few more minutes, her gaze slipping from him after their eyes met back to the keys of the piano and he knew it would only take more flattery to have her.

They both continued to play for some time, her fingers repeatedly brushing against his and he let his fingers glide over hers.

For her a "normal" piano lesson but for him for the devil it was everything. The two played until the end of the day when the sun was already slowly threatening to go down and he playfully affected with a sigh detached from the piano.

He had done everything to delay this moment, he had even offered her a cup of wine to delay everything a little more. And he had to admit that the look on her face with red cheeks was very thrilling for him.

,,I think that's enough for today, it's time for you to return to your Lord Father" he said and offered her a hand to get up, which she accepted. Since she was not wearing gloves, they touched again and he felt how the hellfire seemed to blaze between them.

,,I thank you my Lord Frollo...for your hospitality and your help...you are a good man" he said and for the first time he saw her smile softly, the flower blossomed and he bowed slightly taking her hand in his and bringing it to his lips.

A gesture that would be taboo for her father, a gesture of seduction and sin, but from him it was generosity. ,,You are an enchanting company, my dear flower, I expect to see you again in a few days," he replied, releasing her hand only when he saw the blush on her cheeks. How she lowered her eyes full of shame and flattery and could not help but smile a little more.

Before he helped her put on the matel again and take her to the waiting carriage outside. She hooked up with him for the few steps and he proudly led her beside him.

The wolf and his lamb. ,,May you rest well my lady and my music find you in your dreams" he said and charm flowed over his lips he knew she loved his voice she had listened to him for hours in church reading the bible even when no one was around and it was just the two of them. ,,I pray that I will dream of it my Lord" she said goodbye before the door of the carriage closed and she drove away from the wolf who was showing his teeth.

One bite and you're my little lamb he thought and the devilish grin settled on his lips as the infernal red of the evening sun fell on him and he went back to his hiding place. Greedily waiting for the next meeting, knowing that he would make her his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[mamabearneeds-her-dietcoke]

Pictures- Daryl Dixon

summary- Slowing taking down built walls

i didn't proofread this so excuse any spelling mistakes

---------------------------------------------

When Rick's group first arrived at Alexanderia you were delighted. You were do excited to meet new people, and of course keeping your distance but overall being nice and helping out.

After a couple months of them being there they finally started to warm up to everyone. You had made friends with Michonne and Rick, along with Carl. Sometimes You'd have them over for dinner or offer to watch Judith.

You did however, have your eyes on one special person. You worked in the infirmary here and there and when you did see him it was Carol forcing him to have someone treat his infected cuts. He never said anything to you, just glaring at Carol as she shoves him in the door. It startled you the first time, and when you turned around he stoof there looking at you before lifting his shirt and showing the injury.

nothing needed to be said, you just nodded your head and gestured to the bed as you grabbed supplies and cleaned him up. You mumbled a finished as you threw bloodied tissue and such away and he left.

Even though you worked a bit in the infirmary you also went out on runs quite often and had a good say in how things rolled. Whether the runs were longer or shorter, whenever you returned you always saw him near the gates. You wanted to believe he was making sure you were there but you were never sure.

One day, a couple months after Rick's group joined Alexandria, you opened your door to see daryl holding a small box. "Here. Collected these fer ya. ya don' gotta wear em'." He hands you the box and it's filled with jewelrys and small little knickknacks. "Thank you Daryl." You smile and whether or not he'd admit it, there was a small smirk on his face as he walked away.

You took the box to your dining room table and sorted through it. There were all kinds of necklaces and rings. You could tell they've been cleaned and fixed up. You put on some of the bracelets and necklaces, along with a couple of the rings. There's small little animal figurines, and you put those on your window sill above your sink.

Often times you'd find Daryl sitting on your porch, cleaning his crossbow or fiddling with whatever he managed to find on his runs. You'd bring him a glass of water or lemonade, sometimes a plate of whatever you were cooking. Sometimes You'd ask if he'd try a new recipe, other times the two of you would just sit there in comfortable silence.

It's around 6pm, You walk out to give Daryl his glass of lemonade and you start to walk to your chair on the porch when you feel him grab your hand stopping you. "Sit wit' me." Surprised but not upset you turn back and sit next to him. "Why are ya so nice to me?" He asks. "Why not?" You reply. "Others just look at me weird and keep their distance, You smile at me and invite me in. Whatsup with tha'?" He asks. "Because Daryl. People tend to judge all books by their covers. I like to read the book before I say anything. I know you won't hurt me or be a creep. I trust you." You smile softly at him again, and for a brief moment you could see a small part of his eyes soften.

"You trust me?" He asks, his voice a tone softer then usual. "With my life." Your smile stays unbroken and this was the moment you see him smile, fully smile. "Yer stupid." He chuckles softly and shakes his head looking out in front of him.

"Maybe. But it pays off in this case." You laugh and look to him, taking in all his features. "I'll be right back." You smile to yourself and run inside to grab the Instax camera you found on a run.

You rush back out and sit next to him, putting yourself as close as you can be. You wrap your arm aroun him and hd the camera up. "Smile!" You click the button and the flash goes. You move your arm and pull the picture out, waving it hoping it develops quicker.

"Look." You show him the picture, its you smiling at the camera and him smiling at you. "Ma turn." He takes the camera from you, doing the same as you, putting his arm around you and holding the camera up.

When the picture prints he grabs it and waves it. "Look at us." You smile. "Let me get on of you." You take the camera and point it at him. "Smilee." You say. "don' know how ta smile fer pictures." He says. "Imagine Glenn falling down the stairs." You suggest. He smiles, not at what you suggested, but at you trying to make him smile. You take a picture and grab it.

You smile at the picture you took of him, and you look to him still smiling as he calls your name. Theres a flash, followed by "Daryl!"

"What?" He says. "I could've looked bad and im that I wasn't ready!" You say. "Ya never look bad." He waves the picture in his hand. "You think?" You ask. "If anything I'm the one who looks bad." He looks at he picture in his hands. "See?" He hands you the picture. "Ok I guess its not that bad." You give it back. "Here I'll keep the one of you and the one you took, and you keep the one of me and the one i took." You hand him the other picture.

He puts them in a pocket of his vest. You look at him, his eyes eventually meeting yours, and you can't look away, you see him lean in, a look crossing his face asking for permission. You lean in further connecting your lips with his. "Mind if i spend the night?" He asks. "Not at all." You smile as he kisses you again, moving his arms around you, the same arms that'll be holding you as you drift off to sleep.

---------------------------------------------

yo what up guys🗣️🗣️

so I have an idea for an angsty pt2 if yall wanna see that, lmk.

don't be afraid to send in requests‼️‼️

peace out luvas see yall later🙌🙌

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The DUFF 15

Warnings: groping, insecurity, food and body issues, manipulation, and the usual. Proceed with caution.

Feedback is always welcome. Love you and thanks for the wonderful responses so far. ♥♥♥♥

Image credit (I want to give dues where due but don’t want the creator to keep getting tagged in my posts as I have been approached by some before that they don’t want me in their notifs)

You sit down as you wait for your order to be called. The metal seat isn’t very comfortable, especially after hours in your office chair. You tuck your bag against the wall and stare out the window as Andy shrugs off his jacket.

He sits with the dark blue garment hung behind him, tugging at his tie but not loosening it. As you glance over, he flicks his fingers up to scratch the stubble along his neck. You rest your elbow on the table then drag it off. You don’t know what to do as the awkwardness of the situation settles in.

“So,” Andy breathes out as he claps his hands on his thighs. Is he nervous? No, why would he be nervous? You’re projecting. “Long weekend, you said?”

You smile, a click in your throat. “Um, yeah, I probably shouldn’t go into detail.”

“That bad?” He lifts a brow.

“Let’s just say next weekend, I’m going absolutely nowhere,” you sigh.

“Sounds like heaven. My wife, ex-wife, is coming back from vacation so she’ll be dropping off the kid,” he brings his hand up to the tabletop, rubbing his ring finger, as if searching for the missing gold, “not really a kid anymore. His teenage angst blows right in after him like a raincloud.”

“How old?” You wonder. You didn’t think Andy was that old, but you’re a bad judge of these things.

“Sixteen, for now. Can’t wait to leave for college next year. Honestly, I kind of feel the same,” he chuckles, “I probably sound like an ass when I say that.”

“I think you mean well,” you shrug, “you know, my dad wasn’t so nice about it.”

“No?” He furrows his brow.

“Uh, yeah, but let’s not get into all that. I’m starving and vulnerable,” you kid.

The bell rings and your number is called. Andy stops you from getting up and insists on grabbing the order himself. He comes back with a tray and doles out the tacos. You try not to be too eager and wait for him to fold one up first.

Your stomach growls in an echo of your mind. You’re thankful for the distraction of the meal, you’re not exactly a social maven. Further, he’s your boss and you’d hate to step on any lines, or over them.

You chow down on the grilled chicken chipotle. The spice is more than you expect and has you reaching for your Sprite. Andy hums in delight as you sip and glance out the window again. It’s dark out now. You’re going to be home late. Ugh, your whole routine is entirely lost.

“I was curious,” he begins between bites, “about this club you went to…”

“Uh, yeah, I dunno,” you say evasively, chewing your straw before stopping the anxious gesture. “It was my friend’s idea.”

“Ah, well, I’m trying to get back on the scene, you know? I tried a few dating apps and a bit too few man girls want to charge for just a chat…” he puts his hand up helplessly, “I’m out of touch, I think. In my day, you just met people face to face so I thought maybe, give it a try, but I don’t even know where to go.”

“Mmhmm,” you swallow, “well, I don’t think a club is really the place for that. It’s more so a hookup type place.”

“Hookup? Is that what happened?”

“Uh,” you shake your head, “maybe a book club? That might be somewhere to start.”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t suggesting anything about you,” he backpedals, “I just… I don’t have much going on so I might be trying to fill that void vicariously.”

“Yeah, no, it’s fine,” you wipe your fingers, “I don’t really date. Not seriously. Well, I mean, I haven’t been actively looking. With work and everything–” The door jingles as you ramble, “I barely have enough time for m–”

A figure steps up beside your table. His sole squeaks loudly and you look up, shocked to find Curtis glaring back at you. You’re struck dumb as you can only sit there.

“So this is it? You’re ignoring me for this guy?” He barks, “Bunny, you could’ve just told me you’re a slut–”

“Woah, woah,” Andy stands, “what’s going on? Let’s cool off–”

“No, fuck you!” He grabs Andy’s plate and throws the tacos in his face, “I know who the fuck you are. You got a habit of fucking your employees, Andrew?”

“Curtis,” you get up and grab his arm before he can grab your boss, “Curtis, we’re just having dinner–”

“I’ve been texting you,” Curtis snarls as he turns on you, “all day and I can’t get one reply. Don’t lie to me.”

He latches onto your arm and you cry out. You don’t understand why he’s doing this. Or how he even knew you were here. He’s crazy!

“Let go of her,” Andy slides his arm between you and Curtis, bringing his hand down against Curtis’ wrist, “calm down.”

“Calm down,” Curtis sneers as Andy inserts himself between you and rabid man, “mind your own fucking business.”

“You’re scaring her,” Andy puts his hand on Curtis’ chest and tries to ease him away, “so come on, cool off. Like she said, there’s nothing going on–”

Curtis keeps a hold of you as you’re pulled against Andy. You whimper as you're almost pinned against the table.

“Nothing going on?!” Andy jolts as Curtis lets you go, grabbing Andy’s collar instead, “she’s mine, you understand? You’re just some desperate old man–”

“Get your hands off of me,” Andy’s timbre drops dangerously, “before I make you.”

“Hey, hey,” an employee comes out from behind the counter, “no fighting. Get out now or we’ll call the police.”

Curtis huffs as you cower behind Andy. You can’t see him but you can feel his anger. Andy brushes against you as Curtis releases him. Your boss keeps you shielded behind him as Curtis lets out a snarl.

“Whatever, I was just about to fucking leave,” he stomps to the door as you hide, clinging mindlessly to Andy’s shirt.

“I’m sorry,” Andy apologises to the employee, “we weren’t trying to cause a scene. We’ll just clean up and go.”

The worker says nothing and disappears behind the counter. You see Curtis’ shadow stalk off outside the window. Andy turns to you and puts a hand on your shoulder.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

“Um, I think…” you’re voice quavers, “I don’t know.”

[btsgotjams27]

the nanny diaries ~ jjk

summary: you're running out of time and you're desperate to find anyone to watch your son.

✨ title: the nanny diaries (drabble series) | the unexpected nanny ✨ pairing: jungkook x single mom!reader ✨ word count: 1.9K |✨ genre: fluff, humor, cute |✨ rating: g ✨ warnings: mentions of a sperm donor, reader is anxious, a sassy four-year-old ✨ a/n: here’s the first drabble for this series! i feel bad for dropping ffy!jk on you guys yesterday, so here’s fluffy jk ;)

[ DRABBLES MASTERLIST ] ✨ next - the blind date

You were running out of time. Your current nanny, Gracie, was indefinitely leaving you to go off to grad school. Stupid grad school. You were happy for her, but you were just losing one of the best nannies you've come across in a long time. And having to leave your son in the hands of another stranger was giving you anxiety.

Seven interviews later with a string of nannies, no one was jumping out at you. Gracie had given you a name of a friend she thought you'd love, but you were reluctant when you saw the name.

Jeon Jungkook.

His resume and references were impressive, but a guy as a nanny? You'd heard too many bad stories and listened to too many true crime podcasts, making you uncertain about choosing him.

"You'll love Jungkook. He's great with kids. He's currently in-between jobs as a teacher, so he asked if I had any leads. I told him I was leaving my current job and asked if he'd be interested. Give him a shot, boss, or at least a trial run with Ha Joon."

You groaned when you gave his resume another glance. Maybe you could go with the second person you interviewed, only she did have a weird thing about not cooking. Okay, scratch that. Shuffling through the other resumes, you looked at the last person you interviewed, Sun-Hee. Thinking back, you really liked her - except that she made a face when she discovered that Ha Joon was conceived through a sperm donor and not the traditional way.

"Mommy," Ha Joon stood beside you, tugging your shirt, "Did you find someone to watch me yet?"

You wanted to lie and say yes, but lying wouldn't solve your nanny problem, now would it? You peered down at the cute little face. "Not yet, baby."

"But, mommy, if you don't find someone, you'll have to take me to work with you." His tone was almost joyful.

"You would like that, wouldn't you?"

Ha Joon grinned. He loved going to work with you, but your boss would be livid if you turned your office into a daycare. So you motioned for Ha Joon to climb onto your lap as you spread out the resumes.

"Okay, Ha-Joon-ah, take a good look at these pictures. Since it's very hard for mommy to choose, why don't I let you pick who you would like to hang out with while I'm at work."

His eyes widened in delight. "I get to pick?!"

You nodded, pressing a kiss to his head. You were taking the easy way out - forcing your child to choose his caretaker. That's great parenting, right?

Ha Joon carefully peered at each piece of paper, squinting his eyes. His little index finger tapped the side of his chubby cheek, going hmm as if this was a tough decision for him. He picked the no-cooking nanny and put her back down, then he picked up the judging nanny and shook his head. At last, he came across Jungkook's resume and looked closely at his picture.

"Why does he have a ring on his lip?"

He what? You examined the photo of Jeon Jungkook. Oh god–he has a lip piercing? What kind of teacher was this guy, and Gracie vouched for him?

"Um…Sometimes people like to get certain parts of their bodies pierced, and it looks like he got his lip pierced," you said sheepishly to your son.

"Cool. Can I get my lip pierced when I get bigger?"

You let out a dry chuckle. "Of course, you can–but only if you eat all of your vegetables and clean up your room!"

Ha Joon groaned at your proposal. He mumbled okay.

"So… who's going to hang out with my little man while I'm at work?"

He peered up at you, grinning from ear to ear, pointing to the one person you feared he'd choose. "This guy."

Ha Joon made his decision, and you weren't going to deny him of his choice, even if you were reluctant to have a man watch your son. Nonetheless, you called Jungkook to see if he was available to do a trial run. He immediately agreed to come out the next day, thanking you for the opportunity.

Fridays were your days to work from home, and usually, Gracie would take Ha Joon out while you worked. But today, you asked Jungkook to come hang out with Ha Joon at home just to see if they would vibe well.

The doorbell rang at precisely 7:30AM, which took you by surprise. You weren't expecting him to be punctual. You yelled for Ha Joon to hurry because their guest had arrived. As you approach the door, you see Ha Joon hiding something behind his back. You narrowed your eyes, wondering what it could be, but alas, you didn't want to keep Jungkook waiting.

"Ready? You asked with a big smile, and Ha Joon nodded, gesturing for you to open the door. And you were greeted by a man who looked nothing like the photo. His hair had grown significantly, and because the image was only a headshot, you weren't expecting to see tattoos peeking out from under his long-sleeve charcoal gray shirt. His face was adorned with black horn-rimmed glasses and a silver lip ring.

"Hi, you must be Y/n," he held his hand for you to shake, then he crouched down to Ha Joon's level, "and I'm going to take a wild guess that you're Ha Joon?" The corner of Jungkook's lips curved into a smile when he looked at Ha Joon, and you could tell your son was already smitten by this man.

Ha Joon immediately whirled his surprise behind his back and showed it to Jungkook. "I hope you like Iron Man. He's my favorite."

"Dude–you're in luck because he's my favorite too."

Your son peered up at you, "Mommy–don't you have to work?"

You scoffed. "You want me to leave?"

"Yeah. I want to show Jungkook my room!" Ha Joon immediately ran off, not waiting for further instructions from you.

You gestured for Jungkook to set his things down, giving him the basic rundown of Ha Joon's schedule and yours and a quick tour of the apartment. "Do you have any questions?"

Jungkook's eyes wandered around the room before flitting back to yours. "I don't think so. Will you be around today in case we need anything?"

"Yeah, I'll just be in my room. My boss knows I'm doing a trial run, so you guys can interrupt me if you need anything," you smiled before taking a step towards Ha Joon's room.

Jungkook cleared his throat. "Thank you," he said, leaping forward to catch you before you ran off, making you halt in your tracks. "I know seeing a male nanny is odd, but I hope I get to earn your trust."

You beamed at him. "It looks like Ha Joon already adores you, so it'll be tough for him to let you go. Just letting you know that now."

The rest of the day, you didn't hear a single peep from Ha Joon and Jungkook, which could be a good thing or a bad thing. You kept peering out from behind your monitor to see if they needed you, but you were only met with silence.

Finally, you were fed up, taking a break from work to check up on the two. Quietly, you knocked on Ha Joon's door, opening to see what they were up to. Your hand was met with another's as Jungkook quickly pulled you down underneath a blanket fort, telling you to be quiet.

"What are we doing?" You whispered.

"If we make a peep, the gremlin will come and get us," Jungkook mumbled.

"Gremlin?"

"The gremlin hears voices--it's time to find Jungkookie and take him to jail, where he will be our slave." Ha Joon popped up, wearing his Iron Man Mask, holding up a toy sword.

Jungkook pointed to Ha Joon. "The little gremlin," he giggled.

"He really is a little gremlin sometimes," you snickered, trying to hold back your laugh before your little gremlin came knocking. You and Jungkook glanced at each other as the blanket fort was stripped away, uncovering the two of you.

"The gremlin has found you! Mommy? What are you doing here?" Ha Joon asked with a confused look on his face.

"Hi baby, I just wanted to come check up on you to see if you're okay."

"Mommy..." Ha Joon whined, "you need to go to work and make money for me. You can play with me later."

You scoffed at your little man, and Jungkook couldn't help but giggle at how direct Ha Joon was - that was one thing he loved about kids. They had no filter.

"Okay, okay. I'll go back to work," you said, standing up and walking to the door.

Ha Joon glared at you. "Bye, mommy," he said before slamming the door.

You didn't bother the two as you finished work. All you could hear were funny voices, some muffled happy screams, and crashes of Ha Joon's toys.

To be honest, you were a bit jealous of the two. Most days, when you got off of work, you were too tired to play with Ha Joon, and that's when mom guilt kicked in. Ha Joon was happy with you, at least you hoped so, but you could hear how excited he was with another man in his life. You suppose a little boy needed some kind of male role model in his life, so you hoped that Jungkook would work out well for your little family.

As you were going to leave work for the day, your boss emailed, asking you to hop on a quick call. It was close to dinner time, so you quickly ran out to let Jungkook know what was happening. He didn't mind staying longer if you needed him to, and for that, you were grateful.

You glanced at the little clock in the corner of your monitor, reading 7:30PM. The 'little' call turned into a big call because your boss had a million things to discuss with you. As you were fed up, you made an excuse that your nanny had to leave and that you needed to take care of your son, which technically wasn't a lie.

You sighed when your boss finally let you go. Quickly, you shut off your monitor and sprinted for your door to catch up with what Ha Joon and Jungkook were doing. And to your surprise, it was quiet when you walked into the living room. You assumed they were playing another game, but you found Jungkook putting the dishes away in the kitchen and Ha Joon nowhere in sight.

"Hey, um, where's Ha Joon?"

"Asleep."

Your mouth was agape when he told you this. Jungkook pushed over a plate of food he had fixed because he knew you'd be hungry after a long day at work.

"He had dinner - ate all of his vegetables, by the way, took a bath, cleaned his room, we read a book, sang a song, and now he's in bed."

What in god's name? Was Jeon Jungkook the answer to all of your prayers? No wonder Gracie said you would like him. He was like the nanny whisperer or something.

"How," you took a mouthful of rice, "How did you get him to eat his vegetables?" You asked, finally swallowing your rice.

Jungkook chuckled. "Easy. Told him that if he wanted to be big and strong like Iron Man, he'd have to eat his vegetables because all superheroes eat them."

You marveled at his simplistic answer. You wished you would've thought of that sooner. Maybe a male nanny wouldn't be so bad after all.

"So, when can you start?"

next - the blind date

[mrsrookhunt]

I’ve been waiting for Ango 😈😈

Anyway, can you please do Ango (and any other bsd guy) with a s/o that’s REALLY and I mean REALLY tall, like 6’10.

If you don’t think that’s a good idea or it’s not interesting just disregard this. Have a good day/night! <3

Oh my god I came here to write the bsd men in bed but sOMEONE HAD TO GIVE ME NEW INSPIRATION AHAHAHAAHAH

Absolutely.

As a short bitch myself... I'm so happy to imagine being tall.

A Small Problem

Ango Sakaguchi X Reader

Ango, in his infinite wisdom, had fallen for you, his darling, his other half...

But that was only apparent to you and him. The near daily comments on your 1-whole-foot height difference made him more than insecure.

Ango had never considered himself tall nor short to begin with, being at a good, solid height of 5'10.

He was tall to most women, and average to most men. It was a good balance.

When he met you, it was online. You spoke, sometimes for hours, into the early morning after he finally got off of work. After three months of dating, he was certain, with one-hundred percent of his soul, that you were the one.

Within the next month, he'd emptied out his savings into buying a ring for you, a suitable house, and redecorating said home into a cozy place fit for both you and the possibility of a small family (or pets, let's be real).

Finally, in your sixth month of dating, you'd gotten the unexpected funds to fly and see him for the first time.

Overwhelmed with joy, Ango had absolutely no reservations about finally meeting you, overjoyed that he would finally get to put that ring and that house to use.

When he met you, he was dumbfounded, jaw slack with shock for just a moment. He couldn't believe you were so... tall.

For a moment, you worried that he found you unattractive, but those worries washed away as the most delighted, sweetest young lover's smile broke onto his face, like six months of pure love expressed in one fleeting moment.

His biggest worry at the time was, how was he supposed to be the big spoon?

He wasn't embarrassed to take you around town, showing you off to everyone he knew.

You never took him as someone into PDA, but he regularly rested his head on your shoulder.

While he may not have judged you for your height, others did. Many of his coworkers laughed with what he was certain was envy of his catch, but hurt him deeply nonetheless.

When you accepted his proposal, he was monumentously happy, putting himself through hell and back to arrange a wedding as soon as possible.

However, through all of this happiness, you saw that something dampened his spirits, just slightly, as well.

After discovering that he was treated poorly because of you, it nearly broke your heart. You knew you had to help him in some way, making a point to give him extra snuggles and kisses, knowing he wasn't quite ready to open up about it.

There were times when he did cry with you. He wasn't used to being made fun of, and even more than that, he felt powerless over the situation. He loved you more than the world itself, but he also couldn't leave his work, and who's to say his coworkers at another job would treat him any better?

You start making jokes about his coworker bullies as if he were a small child needing reassurance, likening them to small children who couldn't handle a man and his partner.

It makes Ango feel tremendously better to have you on his side, comforting him. There was a time when he wondered if you saw him the same way, as weak and small in comparison to yourself. But you? You treated him like an equal. And that's all that matters.

Keep joking with him, keep loving him, and you won't have a problem.

"I've got a small problem, my love."

"Oh? And what's that honey?"

"You." ♡♡♡

[shiningwonderland]

Otoya Ittoki (Repeat)

Translator: Raz (Twitter: agnadance)

Editor: Mae (Twitter: itoshikimaegirl)

QA: Rei (Twitter: wolfe_raine)

True Love Ending — Musica that Transcends Love

The moment that Otoya-kun starts singing, the crowd goes wild.

Everyone's moving their bodies to the beat, clapping their hands, and having a great time.

I feel the core of my body heating up and my adrenaline pumping, so much so that I feel like I'm going to start moving at any moment.

That's the kind of song he's singing. Everyone in the hall beams with delight.

There were some performers who were breathtakingly good at singing. There were other songs where the audience would be so moved that tears would fall from their eyes. At other times, the whole audience would stand up in applause.

Everyone's giving it their all because we're all aiming to debut. The audience can feel that intense passion. 

But Otoya-kun… He's the only one who's not trying to put on airs. He's singing from the heart. 

In turn, the audience has livened up and are smiling. 

Of course, we'll be expelled and chased out of the entertainment industry if we don't pass.

But… That doesn't matter.

Otoya-kun is enjoying singing. He's thoroughly entertaining the audience.

Once he finishes singing, cries ring out and there's a roar of applause.

Otoya Ittoki: Thanks, everybody!

Otoya-kun answers with a bright smile, earning him another cheer from the audience.

Otoya Ittoki: Haruka! Come on, let's go! I want to hear the results together!

Even though he has just finished singing, Otoya-kun runs backstage to me and reaches out his hand.

Haruka Nanami: Yeah!

Without hesitation, I take his hand and run to the stage with Otoya-kun.

While waiting at the corner of the stage, we hear that the last person has finished singing.

We quietly wait for the announcement.

The winner of the graduation audition is decided by a group of nine judges, including the principal, and votes from the audience.

The nine judges can give up to ten points each.

The audience votes for the student they believe had the best performance. The student who receives the most votes from the audience gets 10 points, the student with the second most gets nine points, so and so forth until tenth place.

Then the person with the most points total wins. The winner becomes a new idol in the Shining Agency whose next goal will be to become the top idol.

For the students who don't get first place, any student who scores over 85 points can join Shining Agency.

Also, there are employees from other agencies who have come to watch the audition…

For example, even if there are students who don't get into Shining Agency, there's a chance they can be recruited into a different agency.

However, in our case, if we don't win, we can't debut at all.

I'm so nervous waiting that I feel like I'm going to faint from my heart pounding out of my chest….

The warmth from Otoya-kun's hand holding mine gives me strength.

Shining Saotome: The winner of this year's graduation audition is…

As he speaks, he surveys everyone in front of him.

Oh please, please let us win!

We grip each others' hands tightly and pray.

Shining Saotome: Otoya Ittoki!

Otoya Ittoki: YEEEAAAH!!! We did it, Haruka! We won!

Haruka Nanami: Yes! We… we won!

Ringo Tsukimiya: Congratulations! I was so moved by how good the song was. Your song was bright and open just like you, Oto-kun!

Ringo Tsukimiya: I felt warm from the bottom of my heart  and I wanted to support the love between you two. I could feel how much you love her right here in my chest.

Ringo Tsukimiya: For some reason, when I was listening to your song, I recalled my first crush. My love for her was so bittersweet.

Ringo Tsukimiya: But I couldn't stop feeling so excited! That feeling of pure love revived in me and I felt my chest getting hot.

Ringo Tsukimiya: You're such an odd couple. I'm not saying that out of spite, mind you, you two are a great match. Your refreshing attitude came through the song!

Ringo Tsukimiya: Get along and do your best forever and ever, okay?

Haruka Nanami: Yes!

Shining Saotome: You pass for now! Ahh, your song was full of heart!

Shining Saotome: This song was meant to be first place! You're one impressive guy, but this is where the real challenge begins.

The principal pats Otoya-kun on the back.

Otoya Ittoki: Yeah, I know!

Shining Saotome: Come to my office later. I need to speak with you.

He whispers in Otoya-kun's ear, then returns to center stage to begin his speech to conclude the ceremony. 

Shining Saotome: Occupied!

Haruka Nanami: Excuse me.

Otoya Ittoki: Excuse me!

Shining Saotome: To start things off, congratulations on your victory!

Shining Saotome: Everyone in the hall could agree that MISTER Ittoki's song was fantastic, BUT you couldn't have achieved that alone.

Shining Saotome: MISS Nanami, you were able to bring out MISTER Ittoki's full potential because you composed the song! You are a great pair!

Haruka Nanami: T-thank you.

Shining Saotome: BUT it's still too soon to relax. This is where things start getting tough.

Otoya Ittoki: You're not going to tell us to break up again, are you?

Shining Saotome: … No need to worry, I won't say that ever again. I'm sure that you two won't end up going down the same path I did…

Ah, the principal is talking normally again…

Otoya Ittoki: I knew it. Something happened to you, huh?

Shining Saotome: Yes, but it was far in the past.

Otoya Ittoki: Will you tell us?

Shining Saotome: Okay, I'll tell you… Before I debuted, there was a woman I loved, and she loved me back.

Shining Saotome: But… when it was decided that I would officially debut, my agency told me that I needed to put my personal affairs in order.

Shining Saotome: An idol is not only meant to be looked up by people, they are also meant to fuel people's dreams. Most importantly, they must be every fan's lover. You understand that, right?

Otoya Ittoki: Yeah, I get it.

Shining Saotome: Yes… You can't exist just for one person. That restriction was much stronger back in the day.

The principal looks far off into the distance, as if his heart is far in the past.

Shining Saotome: I worried about what to do, and ended up choosing my dream over my lover.

Shining Saotome: At the time, I was engrossed in my songs, the heat of the spotlight, my connection with the audience… I just couldn't let go after getting a taste of it.

Shining Saotome: My heart fluttered every time someone would praise my music. I kept thinking how I wanted more and more people to listen to my songs. 

Shining Saotome: That's when I realized… she noticed too.

Haruka Nanami: What happened to her?

Shining Saotome: When she recognized that I chose my dream over her, she disappeared. I don't know where she is now.

Haruka Nanami: Oh no…

Shining Saotome: My debut song "Ai yue ni…" is about my feelings for her.

Shining Saotome: The composer was credited to be me, but she was the one who wrote it. She gave the song to me.

Shining Saotome: It was born from weaving our love together. The song was the miracle of love.

Otoya Ittoki: Is… that so… That seems like us…

Haruka Nanami: Yes…

Shining Saotome: I didn't want my students to go through the same pain I did.

Shining Saotome: When you are stuck between your dream and your love, you will suffer. No matter which one you pick, the only thing waiting for you is hell.

Otoya Ittoki: Hell…? That's how much pain you went through?

Shining Saotome: Yes… After she left, I tried to forget her by drowning myself in work.

Shining Saotome: But I couldn't fill in the hole that opened up in my heart and my heart still yearns for her.

Otoya Ittoki: Then why don't you search for her?! There's no one to stop you from loving her now!

Shining Saotome: Even now, I'm still looking for her, but there's only a slim chance that she's still alive. Fifteen years ago, she was in a plane crash…

Otoya Ittoki: Fifteen… years ago?

Otoya-kun whispers in shock.

Shining Saotome: There is some hope because her body was never found, but…

Shining Saotome: There's a very low chance she survived.

Otoya Ittoki: …

Shining Saotome: Why didn't I choose her that time? If I chose her, maybe she would've never ended up in that accident.

Shining Saotome: I kept regretting and regretting, and I'm still regretting my decisions even now. 

Shining Saotome: I don't want you two to suffer like me. Love creates dreams, but dreams obstruct love.

Shining Saotome: If that's the case, then one shouldn't love in the first place. You might as well not allow love until the situation permits it. 

Shining Saotome: I thought that I should prohibit love to prevent any blunders caused by young naivety like what I did in the past. 

Shining Saotome: But instead, you two faced that hell head on.

Otoya Ittoki: Yeah, it was no big deal.

Shining Saotome: Foolish little boy! But anyway, you did well.

Shining Saotome: No matter what trials I put you through, you defeated them all! … So that's why I wanted to gamble on you. 

Shining Saotome: If I had the guts to attain both my dream and love, then the result may have been different.

Shining Saotome: I realized for the first time, seeing you two, that there aren't just two choices–there are actually three.

Shining Saotome: It's not about choosing your dream or love, it's about winning them both. That choice existed from the beginning.

Shining Saotome: If you manage to overcome all of that and achieve happiness, I'll take away the rule that forbids romance.

The principal grins. 

Haruka Nanami: Principal…

Otoya Ittoki: It's a promise, old man.

Shining Saotome: HA HA HA! You better keep your promise!

Ah, he's back. It's the usual principal again.

Shining Saotome: AND this is a farewell gift from me!

The principal gives us an envelope.

Otoya Ittoki: What's this?

Shining Saotome: HA HA HA! It's a travel ticket!

Haruka Nanami: Travel…?

Shining Saotome: Once spring vacation is over, you're going to go on production.

Shining Saotome: Once you're a professional, you'll be too busy to go on trips. So…

Shining Saotome: You should enjoy your spring vacation while it lasts!

Haruka Nanami: Thank you!

Otoya Ittoki: Thanks, old man!

Shining Saotome: HA HA HA~! It's the springtime of life!

Shining Saotome: I think you two will be able to achieve the dream that I couldn't.

Shining Saotome: Achieve happiness and take hold of your dreams and your love! Understand?!

Otoya Ittoki: Yeah!

Haruka Nanami: Yes!

We depart for our trip the day after graduation.

In the early morning, the train is empty. There's no one in the car but us.

Otoya Ittoki: This train is so nostalgic!

Haruka Nanami: Ah, that time… You really saved me that morning before the entrance ceremony. Thank you very much!

Haruka Nanami: If you didn't save me then, I have no idea what would've happened…

Otoya Ittoki: I was so worried about you because you were acting strangely. I didn't imagine you were going through that.

Haruka Nanami: … But that was how we met.

Otoya Ittoki: No, that's not how we met.

Haruka Nanami: Huh…?

When did we first meet then?

Otoya Ittoki: Ohh, you probably don't know this, but I met you during the entrance exam.

Haruka Nanami: The entrance exam?

Hmm, I can't remember.

Otoya Ittoki: Yeah, it was a snowy day. I was so worried because I'm not that smart. I was about to give up.

Saotome Academy has a day for auditions for the practical exam, as well as a paper entrance exam.

I went to go take the exams but the snow piled up from the day before, so it was difficult to reach the exam site.

Otoya Ittoki: You were on the slope right in front of me, Haruka. You were clumsy back then, too!

Otoya Ittoki: You tripped on the snow and slipped back down the slope, but you weren't discouraged.

Otoya Ittoki: You kept trying and trying. Every time you took a step, you would trip on the snow and slip back down, and yet you still kept attempting to climb the snowy path.

S-so he saw me that time… I remember now that I kept sliding back over and over, and would end up stuck in the snow. 

I finally arrived at the Saotome Academy after a great struggle, but… Wow, I'm so embarrassed now!

Otoya Ittoki: I was inspired after watching you! Normally, I would go help immediately, but for some reason I kept watching.

Otoya Ittoki: As I cheered you on in my heart, you finally managed to make it up the slope by yourself.

Otoya Ittoki: I was so happy for you and felt so encouraged! Then that day, somehow, my worries cleared up and I managed to pass the test with flying colors! It's all thanks to you.

Otoya Ittoki: Usually, I'm completely hopeless with tests, but that time, I felt enlightened!

Haruka Nanami: No, I didn't do anything… That's all you, Otoya-kun!

Otoya Ittoki: No, you did! If you weren't there, I probably would've failed. I'd always wanted to meet you again, and that day…

Otoya Ittoki: I saw you board the train wearing the Saotome Academy uniform. I kept watching you, wanting to talk to you, but then that guy started groping you.

Otoya Ittoki: That's when I thought I had to save you! After that, I was so glad to find out that you were in my class!

Otoya Ittoki: You even became my partner! I was so lucky!

Haruka Nanami: Is… that so?

Otoya Ittoki: Yeah, it's kind of an embarrassing story. I assumed you didn't know all of this, so I kept it a secret…

Otoya Ittoki: I think I fell in love with you the first moment I saw you. Of course, I love you even now!

He briefly pecks me on the cheek.

Haruka Nanami: U-um, we're on the train, so…

Otoya Ittoki: Yeah, I know. I wouldn't do this if there were people around, but… we're the only ones here!

Haruka Nanami: N-no, you can't. Someone might see us through the window… This is too embarrassing…

Otoya Ittoki: Ahhh! I want to hug you so bad! But… it's okay, I won't do that.

Otoya Ittoki: Once we reach our destination, I'll give you all the hugs, okay?

He cracks a smile.

"Okay"? What is he going to do to me once we arrive???

Otoya Ittoki: The sea at night is extraordinary… It blends into the sky, making it seem that it's part of the stars.

He whispers to himself as he gazes at the dark ocean.

Haruka Nanami: Yes, but… if I look at it too long, I become scared that my heart may be swallowed by the night…

Otoya Ittoki: I get it, but… the night doesn't last forever.

Otoya-kun gazes at me gently.

Otoya Ittoki: Dawn will cut through the darkness of the night and shine through. The heart is no different.

Otoya Ittoki: You light up my darkness and give me hope, Haruka.

He speaks to me in a melancholy, mature voice…

It's on the border of boy and man–as if teetering on the edge of adulthood.

Before me stands a youth with a mature expression. 

Haruka Nanami: I… I'm not a light at all. I'm weak and fearful…

Haruka Nanami: Even now, I'm a coward who's afraid of melting into the darkness…

Otoya-kun pulls me in by my shoulder.

Otoya Ittoki: I won't give you up to the darkness. If you're scared, I'll be your light…

He confidently reassures me and gently kisses me on the cheek.

His arm around my shoulder is warm–his touch alone comforts me.

I feel like as long as he's with me, there's nothing I'm afraid of.

Otoya Ittoki: If you're going to melt, melt into me…

He hugs me from behind, just like he did back in May… but his embrace is much stronger and warmer than that time.

Haruka Nanami: Ah…

Otoya Ittoki: I won't let you go. If we melt together, we'll become one of the stars in the night sky.

He whispers into my ear and buries his face into my shoulder.

Haruka Nanami: I believe one day you'll become a star… a famous star.

Haruka Nanami: You'll surely become a renowned star with your singing that is second to none.

Otoya Ittoki: Yeah… I'll become a star… I want you to be by my side when that time comes.

He grabs my shoulders and turns me towards him.

Otoya Ittoki: But… only you… only your music can make me shine, Haruka.

Enveloped in Otoya-kun's tenderness, I gently close my eyes.

He softly kisses my eyelids.

Otoya Ittoki: Don't close your eyes… Always look at me… Don't look at anything else.

Haruka Nanami: … Yes.

Otoya Ittoki: Only look at me from now on… Nn.

Haruka Nanami: Nn…

My heartbeat melts into the sound of the waves and plays a unique rhythm. The music is endlessly overflowing from my heart. 

Otoya-kun is the same. He sings into my ear as he embraces me.

I sing along with him. The warmth of his arms wrapped around me is comforting as well, but…

We are melting into the music, which feels so much better–a moment of time I'll cherish.

Otoya Ittoki: I feel so strange… Music keeps overflowing from me when I'm with you.

Otoya Ittoki: The best way for me to convey how much I love you is not through words or kisses, but with my singing, isn't it?

Haruka Nanami: Yes, I think so.

Otoya Ittoki: We're connected by song… by our music. Let's keep singing together forever, just the two of us.

Once we become professionals, we may not be able to spend such a peaceful time together anymore.

There are so many obstacles we have to overcome.

But I believe as long as we're together–as long as Otoya-kun is with me–we can solve anything!

I LOVE YOU!

Thank you for playing.

Fin.

[it-happened-one-fic]

Polka - Fireproof - Strictly NRC Dancing

Author Notes: I never knew until know, but Polka's are actually quite fascinating and even have there own vocabulary verbs that pertain to the action of dancing the Polka. This was written to “Feuerfest! Polka francaise, Op. 269” by Joseph Strauss and the dance was inspired by the Bohemian National Polka which is danced in a ring with multiple people. A 2019 performance of this classic dance can be seen on Youtube. The performance took place in Ufa, Russia. Just like the rest of this AU/series the reader is female for this fic. I hope you enjoy!

If you would like to read more this AU/series, the fics can be found here: Strictly NRC Dancing AU Master-List

Type: Dance AU/ female reader/ fluff/ can be taken as platonic or romantic

Word count: 1294

I joined Idia in the middle of our makeshift ballroom, taking up my spot next to him before glancing his way. He already looked nervous in the impressive ring of students that made up our polka group. 

Across the ring from us stood Trey and Ace, both of whom waved at me. Ace throwing me a thumbs up from across the room, that Trey seemed to very strongly doubt. 

Even during the practice session, there had been some very… Interesting motions coming from Ace.

At the very least, polkaing with them ought to be amusing.

Not as amusing as watching the two leaders of the polka ring, who were intended to keep everyone in time, would be though. 

Sam and Trein both stood at the forefront of our ring. The older of the two already looking considerably more unhappy with his situation than his partner.

Normally, a polka wouldn’t have leaders. But Crewel and Trein had both already stated that, after practice, they could stand no more of people stomping their feet off beat, and since no one could seem to stay in time with each other, our polka would receive a leader pair. Sam and Trein just ended up being the lucky, or perhaps unlucky, duo.

Judging from their positions, Sam was going to be the follower in this sequence, which somehow made the situation all the more delightful. The very thought of Sam getting to sashay daintily around the history teacher was enough to put a smile on my face.

I leaned over, whispering quietly to Idia, “You and Ortho did practice the Bohemian National Polka, right?”

Yellow eyes snapped over to me, and for a brief second, there was only mild annoyance on Idia’s face rather than the anxiety that a crowd such as this and performing typically brought him, “Of course we did.”

He twisted to face me and inclined his head like a perfect gentleman as the music began, and I curtsied in response as he continued to whisper his words to me, “Now pipe down before someone hears you. Ortho downloading your motions and practicing with me definitely counts as cheating.”

I fought the urge to make a face at him as we began to skip forward step by step, “You’re the one who said ‘cheating,’ not me.”

It was almost funny to begin twisting along our considerably large circle. Changing into an odd half-open, half-closed position where he had one hand on my back with the other on his hip, we began to swirl around the floor, occasionally dipping into the middle of our ring and then back out right back out as the entire group polkaed around and around like an odd little carousel. 

Idia was painfully awkward the whole time, muttering what seemed to be the steps we were doing to himself even as we were dancing. No doubt in an attempt to both calm and distract himself from the group that we danced with and the crowd that watched us via recitation. 

But even with his nerves, Idia had thus far managed to time each foot stomp perfectly, which was more than I could say for a large number of the other leads.

Idia wasn’t the only one I felt bad for though. After all, there were also Trey and Trein. 

Trey, who was stuck with Ace, was having to do his very best to ignore whatever it was that the red-haired first year was doing.

 Trein, on the other hand, was having to put up with the all-too-pleased-looking Sam, who I could tell, even from a distance, was persistently harassing the older teacher.

My view of the other couples was broken when I was released to twirl freely, with Idia mirroring my motions perfectly. When I completed my twirl and was facing him once more, I was able to confirm that yes, this poor awkward boy was indeed mouthing the steps of the polka to himself.

“Idia,” I whispered his name, as the music’s tempo greatly increased and strange bell-like chimes filtered their way into the tune. From the way his eyes darted to my face in a questioning fashion, I got the distinct feeling he’d barely heard me, despite our close proximity, which, now that I thought about it, probably wasn't helping with his nerves. 

I had to do something. He was going to end up going into a full-blown panic attack at this rate if I didn’t.

And what better way to distract someone than by teasing? At the very least, I knew the flighty housewarden of Ignihyde could handle that, “Don’t you think it’s kind of funny we're dancing to a song called Feuerfest?”

The confusion on his face was obvious as he released his hold on me and put his hands on his hips, lightly stepping forward as I danced backwards with my hands out and flat at my sides like I was acting coy. A single glance to the side showed a very done-looking Trein and an absolutely elated Sam.

“It’s German for fire-proof Idia,” My comment came when we swept back into hold and began polkaing once more.

His eyes widened as he spun me around, causing my skirt to swing wildly out to the side simply due to the sheer speed of our motions. I’d successfully gotten his attention off our fellow dancers, though. 

“I shouldn’t have taken this class… It’s like a whole huge joke directed solely at me,” I cringed in sympathy because I knew exactly what he was talking about. Especially since I was the one that brought it up.

 His swathe of fiery blue hair that was currently pulled back in a style not unlike what he wore during the ghost bride fiasco was definitely an interesting match for our song.

Idia released me, skipping sideways into the center as I went the other way. We met back up in the middle, with him beginning to clap as I twirled to the beat and calmly continued to speak to him, “I don’t know, I think it’s kind of fun.”

I grinned at him as we skipped back away from one another, “It’s not everyday I get to dance with you. And Ortho is so enjoying filming us.”

The lament in Idia’s voice was clear when he responded as he began walking alongside me as I spun freely with him clapping  as he followed along behind me yet again, “I told him not to film this….”

I let myself laugh as Idia was forced to rapidly kneel, perfectly matching Trein’s timing, so I could skip gaily around him, “Embarrassed?”

He stood, accepting me back into hold as he all but scowled at me. Totally at odds with the cheerful music and dancing, “More like mortified, dancing isn’t my thing. Especially not social dancing….”

I couldn’t keep the grin off my face as we re-entered the far calmer section of the dancing, with us just skipping in a simple little ring along with everyone else, “But I thought you held the high score on Boogie Boogie Riot?”

Idia’s mouth twitched into the wide grin of his as he led me into the center of our ring, stomped his foot, and marched me back out, “That’s a little different, Y/n.”

“But maybe it’s why you’re so good at timing those stomps,” My comment was accentuated by yet another resounding foot stomp that was belatedly echoed throughout the room.

He stayed silent this time, but I could still see the slight smirk on his face. 

If nothing else I’d learned that pretty much everyone in this school liked to be praised. And that included the socially anxious hermit who was surprisingly good at dancing, that was Idia.

Luckily, that dancing prowess showed in his passing grade.

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[deathsbestgirl]

the jersey devil has always been my favorite. it’s the first episode i really remember (i was TWO when this show started) and sometimes i forget how full it is of little msr moments.

scully walks in on mulder looking at a magazine and teases him. “anti gravity is right” her little smirk gets me every time.

she tells him about a case she knows he’ll be interested in and immediately he digs his claws in. pulls out another x file from whatever year and tells her to take a look. instead, she wants to hear it from him and it’s oddly adorable.

she didn’t hesitate to follow him or drive with him to new jersey. *and then* he wants to make a weekend of it. do a couple touristy things with her and investigate the case because that’s what they do and he needs the excuse to spend time with her. scully gets all pouty when he tosses her the keys and has a three hour drive alone to look forward to because she has to go back home.

and THEN at her godson’s birthday party, she has a little chat with her friend about kids & having a life and the woman immediately asks about scully’s partner (LMAO) scully deflects, cuz she already knows mulder pretty well and thinks he has no room in his life for anything but the x files & the search for his sister.

like these two idiots are already falling but so staunchly pushing it aside and focusing on ~the work~ because they both truly care about it. their dedication to it is real & honest. but it’s so cute how they use it as an excuse from the beginning.

and god it irritates me when the writers & whoever act like mulder & scully don’t really talk. because they do, but a lot of it is the subtext of what they’re saying aloud. they learn quickly how the other’s mind works, and maybe it’s just me, but that means a lot. that takes knowing someone intimately and they do that by talking. and sure, maybe they don’t get too ~personal~ but they don’t even current personal lives to share about. they talk about their history when it comes up, or if a case is somehow related. they don’t really pour their hearts out, but that isn’t them.

their intimacy & knowledge of each other is rooted in their work conversations and all that reveals. which is so so much. it’s why we, as the audience, are so enthralled with them & the show.

ANYWAY. then when mulder is arrested, who is called except scully. and how quickly she goes running back to jersey for him. only to tease him, and for him to demand she take him out for food.

and *of course* he wants her to stay. mentions *he* has a hotel room. the audacity he has is adorable. and so she almost delights in telling him she has a date, even though she ends up visibly nervous & uncomfortable. MORE TEASING. the way she laughs at him when he says he has a life. because she knows exactly what his life is. i live for the way scully teases mulder. it’s affectionate & kindhearted.

after the conversation with her friend, she thinks she wants a life outside work, outside mulder & the x files. but she can’t talk to this man about her work & expect him to understand it or not judge her, and she is bored out of her mind. yes, she loves kids & wants a family. but listening to this man talk about his life — she can’t even come up with any responses. so obviously when mulder pages her, she can’t take the out fast enough. like?? ditching a date to go jersey devil hunting with mulder. priceless.

omg the way his phone rings and he just picks up and says “scully” because of course she would call that quickly. and he knew she would because he sees that same fire in her that he has.

all the little quips she makes during cases, i feel like this episode has some great ones. “talk about primitive behavior” talking about her godson’s party. “i can see why they would take you for a vagrant.” calling it the drunk tank when she takes his call. scully’s sense of humor is on point and i wish we got more of it. and i think it’s the way that if someone else said a lot of these things (especially to mulder) they could easily be construed has mean hearted or cruel, but that’s just not something she has in her and especially not for mulder.

the jersey devil on top of mulder — this scene is something else. the tension is so good. the acting — impeccable. this woman has no lines but there’s so much emotion when she’s on screen. and mulder talking about her? “she was beautiful” he sounds deranged and scully goes into doctor mode (the Touching, “well she just about ripped your lungs out”) then agent mode so they can have jurisdiction. ever the professional but with such personal motivations. again when it isn’t ~personal to her. i ADORE scully. there’s a reason she’s the first character i ever fell in love with. (thank you gillian anderson! you had two year old me hooked before i knew anything or could even intellectually understand this show.)

“tell him he’s got a real life neanderthal on the loose”

mulder is injured and bloody and running through the woods to protect this woman. she can’t even be taken down by the dart they shoot at her. incredible. and scully & her former professor may be more intellectually invested in this case, but their goals (as well as the park ranger’s) are all aligned and it’s just beautiful?? these are four gentle souls in a modern world surrounded by cruel people.

omg i almost forgot about when her date calls the office and mulder answers. he doesn’t say anything in the moment, but when she comes out to meet him, he does. and when she follows him, he teases her?? “don’t you have a life scully?” keep it up mulder and i’ll hurt you like that beast woman” “eight million years out of africa” “and look who’s holding the door” one of my all time favorite moments. and idk why but i love that she cuts in front of him and opens the door to let him go first.

it’s so interesting to me how often scully bites her tongue. she isn’t afraid to tear down men or take them down. but when there’s procedure to be followed, she stays quiet. it’s almost painful.

this episode is why i thought they were married. i didn’t care that scully was on a date, didn’t even think twice about it — they were MARRIED.

it’s so funny to me that scully laments having no life so early in the show, when presumably before this, she should have had the time if she was teaching. and i know they cut ethan out, but even if you take into account she had a relationship right before / at the beginning, she jumped into the x files head first and let it envelop her life so quickly.

[kg-clark-inthedark]

Here's chapter 16! The Outsider(Alastor) is a flirt, discoveries are made, identity crises are had - We're all having fun over here. Well except Corvo of course :) Preview below the cut:

After coming down the mountain, it didn’t take long for me to notice that Karnaca is a city of stories. There’s an exhilaration to learning the region’s legends that at this point rivals that of discoveries about my own life.

There are the legendary giant owls that supposedly brought the original Serkonan settlers down from the north. Imposing paintings of them adorn the interiors of cafes and shops, always catching my eye. I've overheard tell of a few specimens on display at the Royal Conservatory, but there’s debate over whether they’re manmade replicas or genuine taxidermy. One day I’ll ask Corvo to accompany me there to see for myself.

Then there’s the Karnacan wives’ tale of the Knocker at the Window. A hairless, pale monstrosity draped in flowing dressage finds children who stay up past dark. It’s attracted to the reflection upon window panes of dull lantern lights hidden under blankets as innocent young ones read stories to themselves in the shadow of night. It serves as a warning to those whose curious minds keep them from sleep. Children wail at the thought of such a beast while adults laugh at the gullibility of their young ones.

Then, of course, there’s that one creature of myth nobody can get off their minds, a being who exists outside of time and space, carrying endless knowledge yet withholding it from mankind in order to enjoy the show of its suffering. The preachers say he’s a temptor, drawing the innocents into the darkness, delighting in the way humans lead themselves to ruin using his gifts. Even average folk say he's a voyeur, watching the sins of all, eyes never blinking, always judging, and dragging the souls of the unpure upon their death to suffer in the Void with him for all eternity.

It’s the Outsider they speak of, of course. And nobody laughs at this story or debates its legitimacy, and there’s no evidence of his life to crudely hang from the Conservatory ceiling.

I now understand quite well how the tragic man-turned-god who I once wept for is perceived by those below his mountain prison. The Abbey have vilified him to the point that his supporters have been pushed into the shadows, their heresy punishable by death. And even those who don’t hate him don’t seem to have love for him either, just a desire for what he can offer. There are whispers of frustration in alleyways, talk of bone charms and runes that don’t quite work like they used to. Magic and connections to the Void sought by those in the shadows are harder to find. The Outsider has forsaken them, they grumble. 

Whether an overseer, gang member, or spiritualist, they all see humanity as victims of the Outsider’s whims in one way or another. His plight doesn’t seem to be a concept explored by this society.

Or so I think.

Corvo and I are on our way home from our short and painfully silent shopping trip when I hear it. It’s quiet at first, distant down the block, echoing softly around the corners of buildings. But as we grow closer, it rings clear as day. 

Music.

Continue reading on Archive of Our Own...

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Chapter 7 - Death After Life

In the time it took Ciel to recover from his asthma attack at the comfort of his home, Sebastian had enough time to research the hallmark and figure out the headquarter of the culprit. As soon as he returned at the circus to bring Katrina home, he realised, her soul was nowhere to be found, and that useless Reaper had no clue where she'd gone either.  What was the use of offering her such worthless advice, if he was just going to let her die? She's a human, and with him being there, she also had a baseless strike of recklessness. Could she have figured something out and gone to search for clues on her own? It could be a possibility, the demon thought, returning to the mansion. The other possibility was, however, that she got kidnapped - And that, he did not like at all.

Once the Young Master was in proper health, he took him to the mansion of the evil Lord, and they were greeted by none other than Joker himself, this time, with none of that stupidly jovial facade of his. "Are you hosting Lady Katrina Raymond also?" judging from the way his face twisted with guilt, the demon realised, the woman got kidnapped in his absence - He could feel her soul, but it was so faint, so weak, like the flickering of a flame ready to be put out.

The tour of the mansion was eerie, creepy, filled with dolls and parts, paintings of all kinds. They were brought to a dining room, where Joker pulled the seat for the Earl. From the other end of the large chamber, the sound of wheels creaking was heard, and a bandaged up man, Baron Kelvin, was pushed on a wheelchair by two children who looked completely dead inside. Their souls could barely be felt at all. All the servants of the mansion were children, but they looked more like dolls with no sparkle in their eyes.

The Lord ordered Joker to provide entertainment for the Young Earl, and he jumped on stage, like the Ring-leader that he was. The curtains were pulled up, revealing many children dressed in circus attires. First, a girl, unsecure, was to walk the tight-rope, but she fell down and died pitifully after the second step she took, splattering the stage with her blood. Another one of the children dragged her away from there, brushing the scarlet liquid in a tight line. Next, was a wild animal tamer, and the young boy was eaten alive by the lion. The was the last straw for Ciel. As soon as he saw a boy dagger-throwing at a girl, tied up on the target, he ordered his demon to stop this charade. That disgusting, despicable Baron Kelvin was laughing and clapping like the pervert he was. Joker could only sigh in relief, seeing the child being saved. 

Ciel was ready to kill the Baron - Joker tried to retaliate with his blade at Ciel, but Sebastian was ready to destroy him if needed. "Oh, you want to meet her? Dear Lady Raymond? She was such a delight to have around - In fact, she was the my most esteemed guest!" the Lord grinned widely. "She's in the cellar with the others. I can take you there right away. There's something down there I want to show you anyhow - It is my gift for her, and now, for you also!" the Baron took them down to the cellars, continuing to speak filth about his obsession with beautiful people, especially the Phantomhives, and as the children opened the doors, the familiar sacrificial room was displayed, along with three cages with children. In the middle lay the altar where someone was ready to be sacrificed. In a corner, there was someone sitting on a chair - It was Katrina, wearing a simple white dress - Her long her was being brushed by two girls. 

It wasn't only Ciel who couldn't keep his eyes away from the girl who reminded him so much of himself back then - It was Sebastian also, who couldn't stand seeing that devious little kitten lose the spark of life that made her so appealing and precious.  The boy started trembling with disdain, remembering everything that happened three years prior -He didn't want to, not at all! Kelvin recalled the memory of first meeting Lord Vincent Phantomhive and his son at the party - Lord Raymond was there also with his daughter. He was so entranced by their beauty, that he became obsessed, he couldn't take his eyes away from the wonder of these perfect nobles. He discovered the truth of the underground - Every rose has its thorns, he said, but nothing mattered when it came to perfection. There was no way someone insignificant like himself would be able to reach them, not when he was so ugly - He had to change somehow, become as beautiful as them, get accepted in their circle--

This perversion went so far, so very far that he found a doctor willing to operate on him and make him as flawless as a porcelain doll. He was going to become worthy of them. Every word he said, every disgusting little thing, it was making Ciel so sick to his stomach. "Look at her - The most beautiful doll there ever was - With the aid of the doctor, I was going to become worthy of her! Every cry, every lingering touch of her skin - She was going to forget everything about that fiance of hers!" the Baron laughed. "And you, Earl Phantomhive - The last little lamb - You killed them all, didn't you? All of them." Ciel snapped, his finger pulling on the trigger and shooting the fat bastard who dared make a mockery out of them. He wanted him to die a most atrocious death, but at the moment, nothing mattered. Not the agony he felt as he crawled to grab at his legs, begging for a worthy death.

Ciel stomped his foot on his head, readying his pistol once more. "You'd best prostrate yourself like the worm you are, and beg for a demon to do it." he couldn't care less about Joker's pleas, nor of his reasoning. He was pathetic - Abducting, sacrificing children, just to pay back the man who saved them from the streets. Pathetic. Humans were truly selfish. Not that he had any room to judge, he was more selfish than any other human alive to begin with.

The stupid ginger man, for the last retaliation, thought to laugh and say that the other members of the main Circus cast were going to destroy his manor and all of the people inside - How arrogant of him, thinking they could take down his own servants. There was no human alive capable of destroying them. Their only downfall would perhaps be a supernatural entity - Nothing else. Especially now that they had Lady Elizabeth to protect with their dear life... But not without destroying half the manor.

Out of nowhere, the Doctor from the Circus appeared also - He got out of his wheelchair, showing that he never had any problem walking at all, it was all a facade to earn their trust. He was upset that his patron was killed and there was no one else to finance his research of the perfect prosthetics. "Don't tell me...!" Ciel gasped at the realisation.

"You're slow, Smile!" the Doctor went to Katrina, snatching her up by the wrist and leaning on her shoulder. "Vixen here called me out for using human bones as soon as she saw me. Quite the fighter, really, it was hilarious - Still, I was flattered, seeing someone appreciate my work!" Joker's screech and sobs, slamming his prosthetic arm onto the ground seemed to be proof enough that nobody understood the Doctor's divine work. "Don't worry, Joker. I know you took quite the fancy to Vixen. Next time I'm making you a proper hand, I'll be using her bones. Surely, you'd want to remember her in some way."

"How could you do this to us?" powerless, Joker fell to the ground, weeping with no more fight in him.

Ciel's visible eye widened, watching the Doctor drag Katrina to the altar and getting her to lay down on it. Her hair was beautifully sprawled on the table, she almost looked like she was ready to be put in a coffin, the most precious porcelain doll, all done up by Undertaker himself. She was ready to have her life taken away from her. If only there were flowers around to place all around her, it would make it a funeral fit for a lady of her caliber.

The doctor got to the ground, opening the drawer from the altar table, retrieving a sharp dagger...

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Katrina... Katrina...

A faint voice, barely audible, was ringing in her head.

Was she still alive, after everything that she's been put through? She wasn't sure. 

Could this be after life? Some kind of purgatory? Or was this Hell?

Honestly... Was she actually thinking at all? She couldn't be thinking anymore, could she? 

Who is this Katrina, anyway?

She was...

She was......

Immoral... Useless... Barren... Unclean...

Who is she...? This...'Me'? ...Self? What is that? 

Something was shifting... But she could not feel. She could not focus her eyesight, but the lighting was different.

What was that above that she was seeing... Ceiling, was the word? And this hard feeling on her back... Stone? Hard? Was that the ground? Was she laying on the ground, to sleep, again, in those filthy cells that she was thrown into?

But it feels like she was in the air...

Was she floating?

Katrina... Katrina....

That name... Or is it even a name? It was louder now... Who was it? Who was Katrina? And who was saying her name?

"Get rid of the Immoral! Get rid of the Useless! Get rid of the Barren! Get rid of the Unclean!" 

That was spoken again... What was that? It was making her feel agitated... Restless... Panicked... Frightened...

She felt like jumping out right from her skin... But she couldn't, could she? She had less control over her 'Self' than a marionette on a string.

KATRINA! KATRINA!

A darker, lower voice spoke out that name... And it almost felt like she was regaining a sense of self...  Katrina...Was her? She was Katrina? She... Katrina... Her? Her... Self?

KATRINA! IMMORAL! KATRINA! USELESS! KATRINA! BARREN! KATRINA! UNCLEAN! KATRINA! IMMORAL! KATRINA! USELESS! KATRINA! BARREN! KATRINA! UNCLEAN! KATRINA! UNCLEAN! KATRINA! UNCLEAN!

K

A

T

R

I

N

A

!

WAKE UP !

Feeling something wet trailing down her face, soaking her eyes and cheeks, Katrina's shriek echoed raw, loudly, despite her awfully dehydrated throat and the grated up tissue of her throat. Sebastian was genuinely surprised, seeing not only her, but his Young Master also, screaming in unison, so bloodcurling and vulnerable. As he held the boy, asking why he held fear in his heart, he watched his Lady go unhinged, berserk, grasping the blade that made an attempt on her life with both of her hands, uncaring of the way it dug deep into her palms, crimson blood splattering everywhere - It was her blood, from the cuts on her skin, but they were all irrelevant. With primal instincts, feral even, and some kind of adrenaline rush that kept her body moving as if the puppeteer was dictating her moves - She leapt on the doctor, straddling his waist and stabbed him.

And she stabbed him again.

Once.

Twice.

A hundred thousand times.

She didn't know how to count anymore, nor could she keep up with the number it took to get his whole torso look like a porridge of bloody, visceral mush. There was so much blood... Mixed with tears... It was she who was sobbing, wasn't it? Her? Katrina? She?

"Lady Katrina...?" someone called out again.

"Katrina... Is that... Is it... Me? Right?" she pointed to her chest, twisting her torso to look back at the taller and shorter people who were standing there with different expressions on their faces.

"Yes. You are Katrina." the taller one spoke as he held on to the frantic, younger one, and somehow, still gripping the dagger with both of her hands, she managed to stand up. Her once white dress was now red like the azaleas of her hair.

"I see...  So it was me all along... Were you the ones calling out my name?" she asked again, walking towards them. "No, not him. You. I heard you calling out my name. It was you, wasn't it?" she pressured, only to notice someone on the ground.

"Yes, it was me. I am glad I was able to wake you up." he spoke again, and she nodded at him blankly. Somehow, she knew, he hadn't physically called her out. Someway, the raven haired man was able to speak to her through her mind, as she doubts there was any way she would have heard him.

Katrina crouched down in front of the groveling, sobbing, mourning man on the ground. "You... I know you, don't I? It was you, wasn't it? You did this to me. You, and them, those perverted worms." she asked, looking dead into his glistering eyes.

"Yes... It was me, Vixen. It was me... And I'm sorry. I had to, but I'm sorry, I'm so sorry... I didn't know... And this hand..." he kept stumbling over his words, as she tilted her head to the side.

"I knew your hand was made of human bones since I touched it... How pitiful of you. After everything you've been through... To think you'd put other children to worse than you've been through. The torture... The despair... The agony... The pain... The mistreatment that I've been exposed to... So bad that I forgot who I was... I still don't know entirely, completely, and yet..." Katrina's bank face twisted into a wicked one, laughing atrociously, so loud, so abominable, that the whole place resounded with her sinful laughter. "You truly are nothing more than a hopeless bastard, aren't you? You thought someone like you could have a happy ending, after all the sins you've committed? After kidnapping and torturing so many innocent children? You couldn't have actually hoped to ever be happy, could you? COULD YOU?" she mocked him, taunting his pitiful state, the last few seconds of his life being filled with dread and hatred.

"I want to kill you... Trust me, I really do... But I want you to suffer. To die alone... A prolonged abyss that you've succumbed even harder into. You are all alone. Everyone that you ever loved is dead. Don't forget that. Even in the very last second you keep trying to cling onto your tainted, broken  consciousness. You were born alone, you lived alone, and now, you die all alone." she grinned at him, uncaring of his groveling, and instinctively, she was still holding onto the dagger so tight that her hand turned white.

"My Lady, it is time to go home now. The Young Master isn't in the clearest state of mind... However, I doubt his order will prove to displease you." he said, and biting his glove off, he approached a candle and created a true inferno of flames, and picking her up, he got them out. "I can walk, don't touch me." she threatened in a low voice that resembled a growl as she snatched her arm from his grasp. Every inch of her skin still lingered disgustingly with the feeling of hands groping onto her, she felt a crawling sensation, akin to hairy spiders all over her, so bad that she wanted to singe her whole body, skin herself alive and boil her to death. Katrina wasn't sure if she was walking straight or not, all she knew was that her mind, sense of self and consciousness were in complete shambles, and she wasn't living in the presence, nor was she properly aware of the reality surrounding her. Her mind was dizzy, foggy, and she was lost in the mist. Not even the desperate little girl that ran in front of them, asking about her brothers... Her reality also was destroyed when she realised the trio was working with the Queen and killed all her friends. She shrieked with a raw agony that Kat understood all too well, and as she, too, took out a dagger from her waist; She lunged at them, vowing to kill them - 

But she didn't.

Even in this pitiful state, Katrina was much too fast for her.

She didn't ask for forgiveness, nor for her purity back. 

What is lost may never return. What is broken may never be completely mended.

"My Lady, you need proper clothes. We cannot have you walking like that in public." the man that she remembered was called Sebastian spoke.

"...What are you telling me that for? Go ahead and find me clothes. You're the butler here, not me." she spoke in a monotonous voice.

"Very well." he nodded, and by the look on his face, it was clear he was suspecting something was awfully wrong, just like how his Young Master was, when they forged their contract.

The demon got a carriage, leaving only her and Ciel there, as he rushed to get her a new outfit from God knows where. Her body felt such agony with every step she took, as though she was stepping on razors and blades. Emotionally, mentally, physically, she was a mess. Once Sebastian returned, he had the girl out of the carriage to help her dress - The outfit was a simple dress, without the need of a laced up corset - Surely, she wouldn't be able to wear one, with all those injuries. "Forgive the discourtesy, My Lady. I promise not to look as help you dress."

"What's one more?" hearing her complete uncaring, the demon took off her dress, burning it to ashes. Just like his Young Master prior, her body was branded with the same sigil, and there were plenty wounds of all kinds all over her body.

"No one will touch you again." he spoke into her ear, only to hear a scoff.

"Not on your watch - But if you leave again, what then? I will be left all alone to fend for myself." she lazily let her head fall back, looking into his eyes. "If I were a real cat, would you take better care of me, Sebastian?"

With great care, the demon helped the dress on the lady, whose face looked to be still mocking him. "I would care of you, regardless." Katrina glued herself to the carriage door, not wanting to make physical contact with anyone, and on their way towards the train, a little girl asked Ciel if he wanted an orange, and he got two, one for Katrina, one for him. Her mind was drifted away, until she heard that one word - WORKHOUSE - and she started chuckling.

"We're going there? Really? You want to see what Hell looks like? You'll laugh, I assure you." she smirked weakly, looking out of the window.

"Why say that?" Ciel asked incredulous.

"Oh... You'll see. It's... Ironic. And tragic. Like those guys at the circus. I think it's a rather fitting fate... If not, quite poetic, in a depressing way." she snorted in amusement.

"Master, I have a question, if I may. Why did you kill those children?" Sebastian asked, as he peeled those oranges perfectly.

"I've seen many things like those children in the past. When they became that way, there was no going back, so..." Ciel began, which made the raven haired man continue.

"They would be happier in death? How arrogant." he commented, watching his master.

"Do non-arrogant people exist?" Ciel took a slice of the orange, before shifting his gaze towards the girl. "Which reminds me... You looked just like them... How did you get back to reality?" he asked with somehow intrigue.

"...I don't know. Ask him. He called out to me, and I woke up." she stopped for a while, thinking over at the time that she started hearing and thinking again. "I wasn't there for a long time. I'm sure. Rationally, I know. And yet, after all of that happened..." she absent-mindedly touched the portion of her back that was was branded. "I stopped thinking. And then... I heard a voice. A name. It felt almost like it was chanting a hymn. It was my name. And my brain started working again. I began regaining my senses, little by little. Smell, feel, space, touch, hearing, grasp... And then I heard another chant. The same chant, repeated over and over again, when I got branded... Just like you. It kept ringing in my head, almost as if it wanted to drive me insane... And then I saw the glint of the dagger, and I realised... I was alive. And I didn't want to die. So I fought back. This time, I could. And I won. I will always win, in the end, no matter what." she explained, trying to get a better understanding of what happened.

"I see. Back then, I was the same. My will to live accidentally summoned a demon... But back then, at the Kelvin Manor, there was only one demon, and that demon was mine." Ciel spoke in understanding, his eye not moving from her hand. "So, you as well, now...?" his was voice a bit lower, as she nodded.

"At the Kelvin Manor, I became my own demon." Katrina hummed. "There's no childhood without a proper amount of child trafficking and torture, is there, Ciel? Surely, everyone would simply love to brag about such amazing experiences, wouldn't you say? They are unforgettable. Simply... To die for." she chuckled dryly, knowing very well her awful jokes would garner a laugh from the mortician.

Soon enough, they got off the train, and started  walking to the Workhouse, just over the hill, as the Nursery Rhyme said. Just as Katrina guessed... The building was destroyed - A ruin, long since inhabitated.  And, just like she told them... The thing everyone was trying to protect, didn't even exist. It was nothing. And Ciel was hysterically laughing so hard that it was shocking even the demon. "Isn't it even more demonic than a demon?" Kat caught him saying, which made her smirk and look at the demon.

"I told you before, didn't I? Humans are far worse than a demon will ever dream of being. We are fickle and impossible to understand. We are arrogant and evil, we hate each other, our altruism in fake, and we always need to steal from others. We ARE humans... And we are flawed to the core." she told him with no remorse.

"You are right, My Lady. That's why humans are interesting." Sebastian had a smile on his face as he watched the two humans with a sense of satisfaction.

Finally returned home to Ciel's mansion, though she wanted to return to the Undertake's parlor soon; It was her solace, her safe place, a small, cozy place that she loved so much. At lunch, Sebastian brought her a calming tea and a light meal in her room to drink as she had a brief read before going to take a bath. He was going to serve her dinner in bed, as she needed to rest and stay comfortable to recover.  She didn't realise how much her stomach ended up hurting after not having eaten in so long - And now, wolfing down the food at an unnaturally fast pace. Hopefully, she wouldn't end up purging out of negligence.

Mey-Rin ended up preparing her bath, but she wasn't allowed to wash her off. Katrina had two hands and enough patience to clean her body so lethargically slow that she wouldn't be tortured with the agony of her injuries. She wave a hand through the water, hissing at how pipping hot it was. She was sitting on her knees, her forehead resting on the rim of the tub, sighing and waiting for the water to get a bit colder, enough so that her wounds wouldn't be killing her. Time went by as she pondered over, trying to remember everything that happened, everything that she's forgotten; Finally, she was able to take off her dress and get inside the tub, gasping at the horrible pain she was feeling, lowering herself down into the water.

 She bit her lip, groaning, trying to block out the searing agony, focusing on getting clean and smelling nice; Her muscles were finally relaxing, soothed at the comfort of the warmth. Kat leaned back on the back, her arms dangling down, and she looked out of the window, and at the stars. Just like when she was kidnapped, they were shining and twinkling idly. She could only sigh, feeling a few tears escape and stream down her cheeks, everything that she had to go through since seeing these sparkling stars; Everything came back to her like an avalanche that buried her under a ton of rocks.

Joker kidnapping her, Kelvin being there, lewding over her, telling her about the children, their treatment, the sacrifice room from Ciel's kidnapping, from her brother's death. The bastard wasn't able to be there when the real deal happened, so he had to recreate the whole thing and have a sacrifice lamb. How ridiculous and pitiful. But at least the boy killed him... Thankfully. The Doctor... The Troupe... The Children... All dead now, and nobody to think about them, to miss them... Nothing. There was absolutely nothing.

And it was then that Katrina realised... If she had died there... She would have shared the same fate as them. She would have been completely forgotten from this world. Erased from everyone's memory. She never existed. 

That is pitiful.

The door opening made her body completely stiff, her hands gripping on the edges of the tub, and it took everything out of her to keep myself grounded and still rational enough not to start screaming.

"Sebastian... I believe I said I didn't want to be disturbed while taking a bath." she mumbled, knowing very well it was him.

"My, how did you know it was me?" he chuckled softly, not taking a step forward.

"Mey-Rin would have been incredibly loud. And she would have knocked louder. And waited when I didn't respond." she pointed out with a bit of irritation.

"I came by to bring you the bath robe that the maid in cause forgot." he explained, and she could only nod in understanding. Katrina sunk even lower in the water, yet all of her hair cascaded outside of the tub. "You said you'd be taking care of me. Go ahead, wash my hair." 

"Yes, My Lady." once again, the demon rolled his sleeves up and removed his gloves, stepping in front of the bath tub. "You gave me quite the fright." he carefully guided her to sit with her back straight and hold onto the tub as she kept her head leaned back. "I almost thought you were dead. What would I have been doing, without my cute little kitten trying so hard to scratch me with those adorable claws of hers?" he hummed, soaking her hair, only to see her let out a gasp of suffering, and the water got a little redder.

"There will be no kitten, if you continue torturing me like this." she whined through her gritted teeth. If he weren't a demon, Sebastian would have shivered from lust - Not only was she so vulnerable, naked in front of him, allowing him the faintest of touches, but she was also letting out such mewls, and he wanted to drink them all in with his own kisses. He hated that they were all from the pain inflicted on her by others, he hated that her body was desecrated, touched by filth - It was supposed to be him. Only him. He neglected any potential danger that might have befallen her, and now, they were both paying the price. He was going to burn her soul with love and desire and heal all of her wounds with his kisses and the pleasure he was going to offer her. His kitten demanded pampering, and he was there to provide. "Heavens forbid." Sebastian hummed. "My Lady is strong-willed and brave, isn't she? Even with her body shattered and her soul tainted, you're not going to succumb to your despair, are you? You fought back, you returned to me, when I called for you." his hand caressed through her hair. "Did you also call out for me, my darling?"

"From the time I was captured, until I lost my sense of self." she admitted, her fingers curling with each drop of water touching her wounds. "Unfortunately, I am just a human, and it takes time to heal."

The demon let out a low chuckle. "Unfortunate would be quite the opposite word I'd use. Every masterpiece is a work in progress." he spoke out, and those words had her thinking for a while.

"...Hey, Sebastian...?" she called out to him, not moving an inch.

"Yes, My Lady?" he replied, as courteous as always.

"I Want you to make sure I have a nightgown, a book, candles, hot tea, some chocolate snacks... And ointment for my wounds. Marigold would work well, but any is good. All of them have to be prepared by the time I'm done, got it?" she told him, not as an order, since she's not his Master, but still demanding enough.

"Would you like me to apply the medicine on your wounds, My Lady?" he asked, the poisonous lechery dripping from his tongue.

"I don't actually enjoy showing off my self-pitying groveling, Sebastian." she snapped at him. "I would like you to come over once you're done with Ciel though." the demon finished washing her hair, and after making sure she had everything she needed, he bowed at her.

"As My Lady commands."  the door was closed, and Katrina could finally exhale and feel at ease.

With the demon gone, she could finally use a soap and sponge, gasping through the pain, biting her lip and moving oh so slowly. Some wounds bled, but the towel soaked every bit of liquid, and the robe was warm, hugging her form comfortingly as she returned to her room, all heated up from the fireplace, and everything was prepared as instructed.

She dressed in the light nightgown placed on the bed, a fresh towel on her back so that her damp hair wouldn't be soaking her sleeping wear. She started drinking the aromatic tea on the chair by the fireplace, reading the book she was given at leisure. Her hair dried out fairly quick, so she could get in bed, lighting up a few candles so she could see where to apply to ointment on the body. It stung like hell. So many cuts, so many bruises, so many burns...

They have to heal. They MUST heal. If she were to apply the marigold ointment every night, they were going to heal, without leaving a scar... Hopefully. She hated that Sebastian had to see her body naked, it must have looked disgusting to him, seeing one so broken like that. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. Nothing went as it was supposed to go.

After some uncomfortable twisting to properly apply the marigold ointment everywhere needed, she was finally able to lay down and relax, continuing the book she started, the fluffy blanket over her. Suddenly, a knock woke her up from her peaceful trance.

"I presume everything was to your liking, My Lady." Sebastian spoke, slowly walking inside, with a the usual five-armed candlestick to illuminate his path, although he didn't need that.

"Yes, it was." she nodded slightly. Unable to continue her reading anymore, she closed the book, putting it gingerly on the nightstand.

"May I be of any assistance? The Young Master fell asleep." pointed out, as she hummed in understanding.

"Yes. You can assist me by not leaving this room until you need to start preparing for Ciel's morning routine." Sebastian was just like a cat, his eyes flashing so beautifully every time something he was exceedingly pleased with happened.

"Yes, My Lady." he remained standing in the corner, making her quizzically look at him.

"Don't just stand there. You're making me feel uncomfortable, and it's kind of creepy also." she nodded towards a chair. For a while, neither of them spoke, it was actually rather awkward. "If you're going to just sit there and stare at me, at least have the courtesy to start a conversation."

"What would My Lady wish to converse about at such a late hour of the night? Would you not rather be resting? You have gone through quite the adventure." Sebastian mused, placing the candlestick on the table.

Katrina remained silent, thinking, only to jolt in a sitting position and look at the man. "Actually, there was something I wanted to know." she remember the day of her kidnapping, and little bits of what happened just prior. "Shingami - How are they, uh... Made? How do they come to be?"

Sebastian smirked at her, tilting his head. "Why, they have the audacity of ending their own lives, as humans, only to end up cursed with an eternal life. Isn't that ironic?"

Katrina blinked a few times. "Suicide?" she breathed out. "Are they also forced to attend their own funeral?"

"Those with the privilege of a funeral, yes, they are. The others, however... They have to bury their own bodies, all by themselves." such notion seemed to amuse the demon greatly. The girl continued looking at the demon, almost bewitched by the notion of death. "Do you think if I were to die, there would be anyone caring enough about my existence that they would have a funeral for me?"

"My Lady, what kind of question is that? Surely, not for your status, but by the way you manage to so easily charm all around you, you would have a most wonderous funeral. The Undertaker would make sure of that." as the demon informed, he watched the woman fall back on the pillow, staring up at the ceiling.

"What about you? Would you miss me?" she asked softly. "Or, instead, would you try to prevent my timely death?"

"Why are you asking such macabre questions all of a sudden? You couldn't possibly be thinking of taking your own life, would you?" the girl shook her head, turning her body to lean on the side.

"Of course not, don't be ridiculous." she scoffed at him. "I stole Will's book, remember? It said I was going to die at 18 years old. I turned 18 last month." she continued. "Knowing that, I was sure, with the kidnapping, that I would be killed. I couldn't even find a weapon and kill myself - That's what I told Will - That I would rather kill myself, than allow others to take my life away from me. I didn't even have that privilege. It was dreadful."

"I wouldn't allow you, nor anyone else, to timely sever the string of your precious life, my dear. The Young Master's contract comes first, but you are just as much as a priority for me." the demon's hand reached towards her, touching her hair. For a split second, she inched away from his touch, looking like a fawn staring at her hunter. "Have I startled you, My Lady? Have I crossed the line?"

She shook her head, grabbing his hand and tugging at him to get in the bed with her. "No, you're fine, it was my fault. I didn't mean to. The time there, it screwed me up a little, to the point that I forgot the touch of your gentle hand, and that it won't be causing me harm."

"Then it falls on me to remind you that my hand will only bring you pleasure, and never pain." he voice was low, soothing as he settled into the bed and allowed her to snuggle into his side at her own leisure.

"Then, bring only me pleasure, not anyone else." she pouted so cutely. "You aren't allowed that anymore."

"Whatever could you mean, my jealous darling?" he taunted her, only to see Katrina lean on her forearms, looking down at him with an amused smile.

"May I ask you a question, Sebastian?" she asked in a sweet voice, failing to hide the mischievousness from the demon.

"Certainly, My Lady." he said, almost curious to see what she was going to ask.

"Did you change your perfume recently?" she hinted, wondering if he knew what she was referring to.

"No, I did not. Why ever would you ask?" he replied with confusion.

"I was just wondering... Since I recently met a woman reeking with the same cheap perfume." she giggled teasingly, burying her face in the crook of his neck.

"Ah, I see. I suppose some sweet, powerful scents tend to rub off on others if you get too close." his tone was just as devilishly playful as the implied answer.

"What a lucky girl. She got the sweet release of death... In two different ways. That's a way to go off, isn't it?" joking around and teasing surely managed to get Kat to forget the bad things that happened and get relaxed enough to be able to sleep in his arms, like the spoiled little lady that she was.

"I'm rather unsure if that savage should be considered lucky. Information extorting from an already broken subject is easier than getting a candy from a child. I can assure you, however, should a Kitten ever be in need of spoiling, I will do anything in my powers to assure she is feeling pampered, as she deserves." his voice was darker, with the obvious implication of sinful indulgences.

"Especially if she's getting territorial."

"...I suppose it would be nice, wouldn't it? Giving in to your hedonistic desires? I wonder if it's easy to let loose... You would know all about that, wouldn't you, Sebastian?" she chuckled dryly, exhaling and letting the wave of exhaustion take over her. "Yes, it would be nice, indulging - If it is you taking care of me." she hummed, getting so comfortable in his embrace, allowing the sleep to take over her. "Sweet dreams, Sebastian."

"May you have the sweetest dreams... My dear Kitten."

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[janeykath318]

Spur of the moment: Wintershock

“Bucky?”

“Darcy?”

“Bucky!”

Bucky’s doubts about how he’d be received by his girlfriend after having her dead for five years were swiftly dispelled as she threw herself at him with a force that would have leveled the average man.

Tears leaked out of his eyes as she sniffled into his chest. She hadn’t moved on after all this time.

“I’m so happy you’re back,” she murmured. “I’ve spent the last five years finishing my Phd and helping them figure out a way to undo the nasty grape guy’s work. Man, I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too, doll, or should I say Doctor Lewis?” he replied, chuckling at the “nasty grape guy” remark. Darcy had colorful nicknames for evildoers and jerks, having referred to Crossbones as “pinky bone” once upon a time.

“Doctor sounds especially nice coming from you, but don’t give up the pet names, cause it makes me all warm and fuzzy inside.”

Darcy let go of him, but just so she could take his face in her hands. As she did, Bucky caught a glimpse of something shining on her left hand. It was the ring he’d had specially made for her in Wakanda and had never had the chance to give to her. Perhaps it had been premature, since they’d only been dating a few months at the time, but he’d already known she was the one he wanted to spend his life with.

He gently laid his metal hand on top of hers.

“How’d you find it?” he asked quietly.

“Steve was going through some of your stuff after the snap and found it and gave it to me,” she admitted. “I cried and then I put it on and decided to never take it off unless we weren’t able to bring you back. It’s so beautiful, Bucky.”

“When Shuri showed me the sapphire color that perfectly matched your eyes, I knew I had to get it made,” he explained. “I know I jumped the gun a bit, but I’m so far gone for you, sweetheart.”

Darcy sighed happily and they shared a very passionate reunion kiss that only stopped for lack of oxygen.

“I’m still crazy in love with you, Bucky and I will straight up marry you today if you want,” she declared.

“You mean that, doll? Because I will take you up on that,” he playfully threatened. “I’ve used up one too many lives to want to waste another one without you.”

“Every word,” she said earnestly. “I’m friends with Pepper Potts. We’ll have this all worked out in no time.”

Sure enough, after a flurry of calls, some shopping, and other preparations, Darcy had pulled it together and they stood in front of her judge friend who’d happily agreed to officiate.

Steve came from his retirement home to play best man, wrinkled face beaming with happiness.

“Don’t think I’m not still pissed at you for not getting to be in yours,” Bucky had chided him while grabbing him in a bear hug. Steve had smiled sheepishly and admitted his own wedding had been interrupted by Hydra related incidents three times.

“Karma got me good for that, I’ll tell you. But when you’ve found the one, you won’t let her get away. I hope you two will be as happy as Peggy and I were.”

Clint was summoned to be bridesmaid and handled the role with surprising grace.

“The blue hair prank worked out after all, huh? He teased, referencing the embarrassing incident that had apparently piqued Bucky’s interest in Darcy. She’d wrinkled her nose and Bucky had laughed. He’d never let her live that down.

But now, they were holding hands and making promises to each other, finally making it to forever.

“Ummmm,” Darcy sighed after he’d swooped her into a delightful first kiss. “You’re a total keeper, babe.”

“The feeling is mutual,” He agreed happily.

[i-did-not-mean-to]

J - Jewellery

Written for @maglor-my-beloved <3

Words: 900

Pairing: Celebrimbor x Maeglin, Bilbo & Yavanna

Warnings: Sadness & Trauma

Yavanna sat on a tree and hummed to herself.

“Lady,” Bilbo Baggins called up conversationally, “do you think that it was wise to let your husband participate in the healing efforts? Lady Estë seems out of sorts; she’s very worried about this.”

“Ah, dear Bilbo,” the lady of all things growing and flourishing replied in a voice as soft as rustling leaves, “you—of all people—must know best that Aulë and his creatures wither and die when they have nothing to do. Their heart is in the right spot, and they truly want to help, even if their way of going about it seems unconventional at first. Care to join me?”

She winked conspiratorially for—even though she evidently did support her spouse’s involvement—she intended to survey it from a safe distance to be able to intervene if necessary.

“So,” Aulë started grandiloquently, “I have opened my forge for you to…process some of the trauma you have sustained before your…demise.”

This was not going very well, judging by the unconvinced faces in front of him; he wondered how Manwë always managed to find the right words to sway people and move their hearts. Worse, he even pondered Melkor’s singular talents in that domain for a second.

“Have fun,” he finished in a much less powerful tone and returned to tend to his own forge in silence; the two who were here today knew their way around a workshop anyway, and they didn’t need his input—healing or otherwise—just yet.

“They work well together,” Bilbo commented in a soft voice as they watched the scene through the wide-open doors of the forge.

Lómion had only been coaxed out of the Halls of Waiting by the promise that there was one who would join in him Aulë’s new reinsertion program who was just as reticent to talk about what had happened to him as he was.

Celebrimbor on the other hand, had been desperate to get out, but—once reembodied—he had struggled considerably to get used to his hale flesh and the omnipresent shadow of guilt and resentment that haunted his family.

They didn’t speak about their parents—too daunting was the idea of unravelling the tight knot of mutual distrust, disappointment, and visceral resentment that had festered and hardened during the time they had spent apart.

One day, they well knew, they would have to face the truth and work their way through the family tree of the perpetually absent Finwë in their quest for forgiveness and healing—but they were not yet at a point where they could even consider this without shrinking back in dismay.

In each other though, they found a quantum of peace—they were kin in more aspects than could be counted and their souls recognised each other in the flickering reflections of the ever-burning fires of the forge.

Doomed by birth, they had rebelled against their parents—maybe even driven them to some of their most reckless and gruesome acts inadvertently—only to die alone, free or robbed of their protection and love. Such self-inflicted isolation and deprivation had marked them in ways few could even begin to understand.

“Beautiful,” Celebrimbor praised as he apprised the gem his kinsman brought over to set in the pendant he was crafting from thousands of metal tendrils, thin and flexible as single hairs and strong and enduring as mountains.

His eyes wandered from the polished stone to the pale, stern face of his collaborator and he repeated his previous assessment in a breathless, awed voice.

Both had found—to their surprise and relief—that they still delighted in the making of intricate jewellery, but they would refuse to devise rings or set stones into coronets and crowns—too deep was the trauma and too fresh the wounds for such designs.

Moreover, the name of that fallen Maia, who had almost ruined Middle-Earth, was never spoken. Each nurtured his grievances with the one who had pretended to be a friend and who had turned out to be a cruel torturer in private.

“In time,” Yavanna whispered, feeling that Bilbo’s own heart clenched in anger and pain at the thought of the one he had only ever known as Sauron. “You’ll learn the whole story. He was charming, you know? At the very beginning and almost until the end, he was an apt liar and a devastating seducer.”

“I guess,” Bilbo muttered, massaging his hands to dispel the phantom pain of a ring he had not worn nor even seen in a long time. “Will they be okay?”

Yavanna nodded at the forge where the ancient magic of skill and ambition was revived by deft hands, made anew by the grace of the Valar, blending techniques and ideas that had come from another world and another time.

Even as they spoke, Celebrimbor had lifted the delicate pendant off the table and presented it to Lómion in the brash, mute manner of a man who no longer trusted his words.

“It’s…a mole?” Bilbo breathed, amazed by the extraordinary skill the elf displayed. “Incredible! The style…reminds me…”

As Yavanna witnessed the choked sob of recognition and gratitude tearing itself from Lómion’s throat—he was a Nolofinwëan, and thus an ugly crier by nature—and hummed under her breath as her soul shivered in compassion.

“Hmmm, it has a dwarven flair indeed. That, my dear Bilbo,” she murmured, “is also a story for another day though.”

@fellowshipofthefics Here's another one :D

Lots of love from me

-> Masterlist

[thegreatzombieartisan]

Rings of Power + Tolkien Fusion Meta

What’s in a Name: Case for ‘Halbrand’ as Sauron’s True Name - One That Shall Never Be Known Part t. 2

Series : Pt 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Why does Sauron have an Elvish name? Well ‘Mairon’ isn’t a name, it’s a title

*

The most pragmatic reason? Sauron once coexisted with the Eldar in Valinor and moved among them. Not far-fetched, as even post-prison Melkor was re-welcomed among the Noldor, who ‘took delight in the hidden knowledge that he could reveal to them' [1]. If so, dare it be asked, did the Eldar bestow their future tormentor “The Admirable” title? After all —Sauron, Gorthaur, Thû —Elves ain’t shy about giving old boy nicknames.

What is sure, as Noldor royalty, Galadriel and Mairon would have definitely met under better circumstances.

In contrast to the published The Silmarillion -- which has Mairon yelling #YOLO and joining Melkor in Middle-Earth long before the Elves awoke -- Tolkien did experiment with such a backstory origins storyline[8].

In S1:01, we see the light of the Two Trees of Valinor destroyed.

In The Silmarillion, Melkor forms an uneasy partnership with a giant spider named Ungoliant to carry-out the dastardly deed [2].

But in a different version, Sauron replaces her as the reason why Elves can’t have nice things before joining Melkor in Middle-Earth.

Sure, The Silmarillion is a draft yet it’s unlikely Tolkien would have reintroduced a plotline where Sauron and Eldar could be potential besties. It would require rewriting intricate lore. Besides, pre-Second Age was Melkor's time to wreak havoc on the Elves.

So again, why is Mairon an Elvish name?

*

'Mairon' is a Quenya Elvish translation of 'The Admirable' in the Ainur Language

Valarin -- the "tongue of the gods" -- predates all Elvish forms. Few every learn it ,as most little Elf ears judged Valarin as unpleasant and alien AF. Some Valarin words and names into “fair Eldarin” (Elvish) [4].

See translations below. Listen to them said in Valarin here:

Aulë - Aȝūlēz

Telperion - Ibrîniðilpathânezel 

Manwë - Mânawenûz 

⁠Oromë - Arǭmēz

Ossë - Oššai/Ošošai

In Valarin, ‘Mairon’ is most likely Mayarônôz (pronounced my-yah-row-noze)

Although Tolkien never fleshed out Valarin, enough exists to fairly conceptualize ‘Mairon’. Translation credit to @valarinventures [4]:

Known Valarin words starting with a “M” + vowel translate exactly into Quenya. Now it’s ‘M’.

In Valarin, Ainur = Ayanûz. So the ‘ai’ of ‘Mairon’ is translated into ‘aya’ in Valarin. Now it’s ‘My-yah’.

(+/- z) suffix might indicate the nominative singular or plural noun. That is, Mayarônôz (+ z) might be ‘The Admirable’ (singular), while Mayarônô (- z) might be ‘The Admirables (plural).

If Mayarônôz left Valinor before they awoke, how did the Eldar learn of his name? In the Valaquenta, it’s written:

Among those of his servants that have names the greatest was that spirit whom the Eldar called Sauron… he was of the Maiar of Aulë, and he remained mighty in the lore of that people.

Surely, the Valar warned the Eldar of Melkor and Mairon wickedness. Possibly Oromë told them first, as he was tasked to find and protect the newly awakened Elves in Middle-Earth.

Did Galadriel know Valarin? Once Aulë’s apprentice, Yavanna's handmaiden, and Melian protege — it's likely Galadriel would know more Valarin than most Eldar.

Mayarônôz is still not Sauron's true name

Now the names that we have for the Valar or the Maiar, whether adapted from the Valarin or translated, are not right names but titles, referring to some function or character of the person; for though the Valar have right names, they do not reveal them. Save only in the case of Oromë…[Quendi] asked him what that signified, and again he answered: Oromë. To me only is it given; for I am Oromë. Yet the titles that he bore were many and glorious; but he withheld them at the time, that the Quendi should not be afraid [3].

(Say, what’s with the Ainur “no name reveal” policy?)

Oromë's admission here is profound: Ainur true names lack a primitive root meaning in Valarin. Only the sound of their names distinguish them. He also states that his name (and presumably all Ainur) was "given" to him. By Eru Illuvatar or other Ainur? It's unknown.

Thank you for reading! Your likes and tagged reblogs are appreciated. Got feedback?

What did you like? Got theories or insights to share?

Disagree? I love good faith debate and sparring!

Need clarity on points? Got feedback on readability?

Spot an inaccuracy? Hey, Tolkien's work is complex. Drop it in comments or DM.

Works Cited

[1] On Fëanor and the Unchaining of Melkor, Morgoth’s Ring

[2] On the Darkening of Valinor, Morgoth’s Ring

[3] Quendi and Eldar

[4] Valarin - Like the Glitter of Swords

[5] Why You Should Love Your Guardian Angel (And Not Name Him)

[6] Osanwe - Tolkien Gateway

[7] Orkish and the Black Speech - base language for base purposes

[8] Name for a Dark Lord

[9] Quenya Grammar