cirtusmistress

[cirtusmistress]

So I’m very invested in Delico’s Nursery, and Gerhard and Angelico are my favourite parent/child pair so far. I know further into the series, Angelico becomes way worse than Gerhard tragically.

I have seen some information floating around and Google and Fandom dot com are really not giving me ANY answers, so question for the Delico/TRUMP (why) fandom - Spoilers below.

I’ve read that Ul and Angelico actually share a parent? I know from my sleuthing that Ul is actually a dhampire, and I swore I saw a post saying that Gerhard isn’t Angelico’s true father.

This information could be wrong, but that’s why I’m asking Tumblr! You people are just as obsessive as me, you probably have answers.

So what’s up, what’s the tea, who is the father? I’d appreciate any input :0

[cirtusmistress]

Sorry for dipping out for weeks I’m getting back into sketchbooking and it’s taking over my mind. Mahito will get more chapters soon.

Anyway how would people feel if I wrote Kenjaku x Reader? I’m sorry he just wears the Sugusuit too well and I like fucked up lil guys who only exist to stir the metaphorical pot.

[cirtusmistress]

The chapter is actually really good btw and I do like the fact Gege is willing to go fucking dark with it (this shit is bleak as hell and I’m here for it).

hey I won’t spoil anything but after the JJK 261 leaks I’m gonna have to write a VERY LONG and VERY DETAILED HAPPY ENDING AU because I am in MOURNING FOR EVERYONE IN THIS FUCKING MANGA

[cirtusmistress]

hey I won’t spoil anything but after the JJK 261 leaks I’m gonna have to write a VERY LONG and VERY DETAILED HAPPY ENDING AU because I am in MOURNING FOR EVERYONE IN THIS FUCKING MANGA

[cirtusmistress]

JJK Baby Daddy x Reader HC: Choso ~ The Helicopter Parent

an: i love choso and have baby fever. which sucks for a lesbian who has a visceral fear of being pregnant. so i'm gonna write about a 2D man k thanks <3

tw: mentions of SIDs

genre: fluff with a touch of angst in the teen years

AO3 Crosspost

Bless his heart man :(

Didn’t even know he could have kids but once he learned that he could it was game over.

He had eight siblings and loves them all with his whole heart. Literally Yuji being his brother reshaped his brain, how do you think having kids will have him?

I see him as a girl dad personally but he will love his children no matter the gender.

It was a lot when you told him you were pregnant. It had never really been a thought beforehand, and it just kinda.. Happened. It was a long discussion but you decided to keep it (but if you didn’t want it he would have supported you, because he loves you and in the end you have to come first).

Anxious as fuck though. He’s buying so many parenting books and reading mommy blogs and did you know you shouldn’t eat fish while pregnant? No fish for you. Such a helicopter dad and partner.

LOVES designing the nursery.

You bought him a disposable camera so he could document the pregnancy and he adored every second of it. He makes you a pregnancy scrapbook for each one.

He keeps the first ultrasound pic on him all the time. Shows it to everyone he can like, “This is my baby :)”

He cried every time you two looked at onesies. Realizing how small your baby was gonna be got him so emotional.

Likes helping you pick out maternity wear too! He thinks you’re so cute :(

If you’re a seahorse dad he’s super understanding and tries to help you through any dysphoria you may have. You’re his partner and he feels his family's pain very strongly, so he just wants you to be okay.

He involves Yuji in your pregnancy a lot too (which he loves, he can’t wait to be an uncle).

When the baby finally comes home he’s such an anxious mess. Every time they cry he’s just overwhelmed and scared something is wrong or his fault.

He doesn’t get much sleep. He made the mistake of reading about SIDs and is constantly scared that he’ll wake up one day and they’ll just be gone.

It takes a lot of reassurance from you to calm him back down. Eventually he starts sleeping again, but his sleep is very light.

Loves wearing a papoose (baby carrier). He likes having his baby with him wherever he goes.

I can see him fully committing to being a stay at home daddy. He loves his family and if he could spend every day with his children nothing would make him happier. Gives you a lot of special attention during and after the pregnancy. Massages, going out late at night for craving foods, sitting with you while you go through morning sickness. When you get home he’s super hands on so you can rest and recuperate. You’re the love of his life, nothing is too much for you.

He also makes baby scrapbooks. For all of his kids, at least 3 each. No one goes without and every child is made sure to feel special and loved.

Again, cries at every milestone. When they roll over, when they sit up, the first word. Even the less conventional ones like the first hair cut.

You had to keep him from attacking the doctor when you took them in for their first shots..

The toddler phase is fun. He’s chasing naked babies around your home day and night. Loves the phase where they want to sleep in bed with you two. Being able to have his family all in one bed makes him feel safe. Even if it means a kick to the side or back.

It’s hard when his kids start going to school. He can’t always be with them or protect them and it’s scary for him. He’s always thinking about them, and when they get home he’s always there to pick them up or walk them back to the house.

The teen phase is also a hard transition. Suddenly it’s not cool to spend time with your dad anymore. Some of his kids do, of course, but it’s always a struggle when the others pull away. You always assure him it’s normal, and they still love him. But Choso struggles when his family pulls apart even in little ways.

He’s still a helicopter parent. He means well but to teens it just feels overbearing. He doesn’t know what he’s doing wrong.

But in the end his kids always come back. Because they know he will never abandon them, and would raise hell for them.

Wants at least three. If you’re willing, five.

Readiness? 60% Lot’s of panic and crying, but no doubt all of his children will feel endlessly loved, as will you.

who else should I daddy? gojo and nanami are on my hit list

[cirtusmistress]

what if I gave up

the directing choice of putting the soft music playing the moment kenjaku says “yo, satoru” and make it stop the moment gojou realises it was a trap, the moment he falls back into reality and asks who is he, as if in the meantime he was dumbstruck by the possibility of having suguru back while also being flooded with the memories of his first and last blue spring of youth and the warmth that those memories bring him, to make him subtly smile when his six eyes tell him that it’s suguru, and then to play the same song but in a sinister way when kenjaku reveals himself and gojou realises his best friend’s body was violated like that, the sickening feeling. you could say the music expresses how gojou was feeling inside. and would also like to highlight the excellent job getou’s va did here, he speaks in a much somber way than real getou. great choices mappa.

[cirtusmistress]

JJK Bridgerton Inspired HC’s - Toji Zenin

an: i usually write these in batches but my bestie asked for Toji so we’re doing Toji, fuck it

tw: sexual implications

genre: historical romance

AO3 Crosspost

Gojo, Geto, Nanami

🖤 Shamed Lord Toji Zenin and the Spinster 🖤

• Toji comes from a wealthy family who had graced the ton for generations. But he is the outcast of his family. He had been excommunicated after being caught in a scandal. He was exiled to one of the family's country houses, out of the eyes of the ton and high society.

• After some time he fell in love with a local townswoman. They married to the horror of his family. As if his shame could not grow. Soon his wife fell pregnant and they had their son, Megumi. But the throes of childbirth were too much. She died shortly after.

• Toji was unwilling to raise a son alone knowing fully well that Megumi had a chance at a good life. So he surrendered him to his family. He hasn’t seen him since and his family does not write.

• He fell into gambling, primarily horse race betting. Soon he had blown through the savings and monthly allowance his family permitted him. Soon he was cut off.

• He found the only way he could make money effectively was by doing tasks others would not. Plenty of people in the ton had those they wanted gone..

• Being a hitman was both a source of income and a ticket back into society. Not that Toji wished for it, but it was easier to get work from mindless noblemen with money to burn.

• It was on one of his hits that he actually met you. You were a spinster, a woman who had aged out of the eligible dating pool. Given most men wanted younger women with potential.

• Unfortunately for you the target he was after was in fact your carriage driver.. So the only way he could get to him, was to go through you.

• People stared incredibly hard as exile Toji Zenin and the local spinster took to the dancefloor. The waltz was.. Perfect. Elegant. Passionate. You were meant to be his cover and yet he was transfixed.

• He did in fact take out your driver. After he brought you home. And after you two spent a very long carriage ride together. Past your home. Twice. Once you were home in bed safe and sound, he did his work.

• He made sure to see you again. Running into you at balls. Showing up when you were in the park. Even being at the dressmaker when you were there! What a coincidence!

• You got to know one another. Apparently you were a very wealthy Viscountess. Well, would be. Your father had been withholding money from you until you bore a son. Like Toji you had a tendency to be flippant with money. However you were still very kind, loving, and accepting. Even when he confessed he had been married, and had a son.

• You told him you’d help get his son back if he so chose, but he refused. Even if he remarried there was little chance after all this time he could give Megumi a better life.

• But you married him anyway. And he loved you. He didn’t think he could love again, and yet you proved him wrong.

• And after a year, you were blessed with a son. Your title and income assured.

• Toji did manage to ween off his betting addiction. Though you two did go together from time to time.

• Ever so often he sees a black haired young Lord being coached by that moronic crowned prince.. And when the name Lord Fushiguro touches his ears, he smiles. And a part of his heart finally rests easy.

@ list: @xxsugarbones

[cirtusmistress]

i wanna do more JJK Bridgerton HC’s (Toji, Choso, and Sukuna are on my list), and I’m planning story structure for He Follows, but also I wanna do JJK Bauldur’s Gate 3 HC’s (Races, Classes, Good/Neutral/Bad endings)

is anyone interested in this and if I DID who would you wanna see most? i’m gonna do it anyway but I like input

[cirtusmistress]

JJK Bridgerton Inspired HC’s - Gojo, Geto, Nanami

authors note: so your girl is on a Bridgerton binge and a JJK rewatch binge so like.. I’m boutta cater to such a niche audience lmao

genre: historical romance

tw: a lil horny sometimes but ultimately SFW

AO3 Crosspost

💙 Crown Prince Satoru Gojo and The Debutant 💙

• A prince by birth and next in line for the throne.

• Well bred, read, and wanted most dead. Has lived through multiple assasination attempts.

• Was never really interested in the prospect of marriage, was more invested in rehauling the royal system as a whole.

• Likes to spend his time with the young royals and nobles like his ward Megumi.

• W H O R E. Chronic flirt. Smart enough not to accidently sire an heir but knows how to have his fun.

• Met you during your debut year. You were the first woman to actually catch his eye.

• First he thought it was just more sexual attraction, but after a dance and a conversation he knew it was much more. Your wit was unmatched and you had snark enough to keep up with him.

• Played it cool though because he knew if he gave you too much attention you’d have a target on your back, and he wanted to make sure you were his.

• Goes out of his way to see you as much as he can. Lots of ‘accidental’ run-ins.

• The moment that sealed the deal for him was when you near bested him in a fencing match. It had been so long since someone had surprised him.

• Though being under the eyes of the crown prince doesn’t go unnoticed. Soon enough other men began attempting to court you. Even worse, certain parties started conspiring to use you against him.

• This all came to a head when you were cornered at a ball. You were meant to be taken hostage and used to lure and kill the prince. But there was no corner of the world they could hide you where he would not look. His day started and ended with you and if they harmed you the world would burn in your name.

• You were found and rescued by him, and your kidnappers were dealt with in a swift and brutal fashion.

• He proposed on the spot. No hesitation he was on that shit. You were to be his and that was that. And you would never be alone again.

• The wedding was huge. No expense was spared and he catered to your every whim and desire. You were his gorgeous only ever.

• Honeymoon was.. Oh baby. Literally. You weren’t coming back without being knocked up.

💜 Duke Suguru Geto and The Viscountess 💜

• Of common birth and rose to the rank of Duke after the former Duke passed away. He was the only living male relative, hence receiving the title.

• A former friend of the crown prince. The pair had a falling out when Geto grew power hungry in his new role. He is still a respected member of the ton, though under constant watch of the crown.

• As a Duke he is in charge of a small township. He’s known for his high taxes and using his citizens to collect rare birds from the surrounding area. He keeps them in an aviary with clipped wings, and sells them to other nobility for profit.

• He once was in charge of two townships, but one mysteriously burnt to the ground. An investigation brought no results, but it did reveal two survivors. Geto took them in as his wards.

• He met you during one of his bird sales to the Queen. You were a member of her entourage.

• You were a young widowed Viscountess with two young daughters of your own. Your husband had died of medical complications, leaving you alone with no sons. Luckily you had favor with the queen, but with no husband and no heirs you were in desperate need of saving.

• He found your unwavering commitment to your children admirable and you two began a long friendship.

• Your girls all got along well, and you loved his daughters with all your heart. Something about you doing their hair and tending to them so gently made his heart flutter.

• The friendship did eventually turn into more.. Especially after you admitted you urned for more children.

• Enter baby fever Suguru.

• He proposed in his aviary, promising to love your children as his own, and to give you as many more children as you desire.

• Townsfolk said Geto became far kinder after your marriage.

💛 Viscount Kento Nanami and The Housekeeper 💛

• Kento was born into his role as Viscount. And he takes it extremely seriously. Balancing finances and planning events, maintaining a reputation for his family.

• Unlike other men in the ton he rarely goes out to gentlemans clubs. He goes on the occasional hunt though he sees it as pointless and barbaric.

• His goal was to find a practical match, not a love match. He wanted someone who would bare him an heir, so that one day he could rest knowing he had done all he could for his family.

• His housekeeper eventually was forced to retire after injuring her hip. She had served his family for over fifty years and raised him, so he ensured she lived the rest of her life comfortably.

• But.. That meant he had to find a replacement. Easier said than done. No one could live up to the former housekeeper. Plenty of maids were recommended but.. None of them felt right. So he put out a request.

• And then you showed up. Younger, so he was skeptical. But you came on high recommendation from her majesty herself. Apparently you were quite capable and able to handle the heavy loads associated with the job.

• And lord were you. No one could have taken this job more seriously. Not a hair out of place, not a meal late. Sheets pressed. Animals tended.

• And Nanami found it.. Oh so attractive. Your dedication. Your concentration.

• Nothing impressed him more than your skills in the kitchen. You were an amazing cook. Although it wasn’t a listed priority in your job, you still took time out of your day to prepare one of his meals. Usually his afternoon tea.

• After a few months, he was starting to grow fond of you. It was improper to feel such emotions for a servant. But he couldn’t help notice all the little things. The crease of your brow as you kneaded dough. The satisfied smile after a days work completed. The pensive worry in your eyes as you dotted on him in his study.

• Eventually he had enough. Forgetting formality for once in his life, he gave you his heart. And you returned it.

• It was a scandal, but he took it. Because having you made it all worth it.

[cirtusmistress]

He Follows - Fixation

Mahito is met with someone who is his true opposite, and a mutual curiosity blooms.

Mahito x Reader

Tags: Angst and Feels, Tragedy, Slow Burn, Tragic Romance, Mahito Being an Asshole, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Eventual Romance, Not Beta Read, Mahito POV, Verbal Abuse

AO3 Crosspost

Word Count: 1.7k

You were endlessly fascinating to him. Though he had little interest in humans outside of his experiments, he couldn’t help but be enamored by your every move. You had cursed energy, so no doubt you were aware of his presence everywhere you went. And yet you never looked at him. Never spoke to him. You merely kept pressing on. Why? Was he not interesting enough for you? Surely someone such as himself was far more intriguing than any other human you came across day after day. He stood out, he could tell you that for free. Blue hair and covered in patchwork skin? What human looked like that! 

Mahito had only existed for a short few months. Though he held incredible intellect he was still much like a child. Still growing, learning. Everyday was something new, something fascinating. Learning how to use his cursed technique, interact, manipulate. All things that would aid him in his end goal of creating a world without humans. 

So one day when he was simply people watching - looking for a new playmate to experiment on no doubt, he couldn’t remember - he saw you. Helpless, innocent you. Walking along with your bag of convenience store goods in hand, and with a small gaggle of low level curses parading behind you. Though they weren’t stalking you. No.. They were following you willingly. Mahito watched from his perch up high on a residential building. How when you walked, they followed. How when you stopped at a crosswalk a flyhead landed on your shoulder. And you smiled at it! You weren’t a sorcerer, he could tell from where he sat. Your energy level was far too low. And yet, you somehow commanded those curses. How could it be so?

He had followed you home that day. Thanks to the quick mastery of his own technique, he was able to contort and morph himself into a Fly Head. Well, as close as he could manage. He joined your little parade and followed all the way to your small single bedroom apartment. You paid no mind to the extra curse in your home, simply going about your chores. Mahito watched with the other curses. Had you perhaps used some kind of technique to bribe them? Maybe some kind of cursed spirit manipulation? Finally you sat at your little coffee table and pulled out something from your convenience store bag. Ice cream. Those ones that came in cones, prepackaged and ready to go. You had four, and laid three of them out in front of you and the curses. 

“Go ahead,” You said with a gentle smile, “These ones are for you guys.” Once they had your go ahead, the spirits began eating your offering. Mahito was.. Shocked. Low levels like these couldn’t think for themselves like this. Let alone eat! And yet he buzzed there as the curses who looked like bugs and mutants and grotesque little things nibbled away. Making happy little sounds all the while. You ate your own treat with this.. Stupidly sweet genuine smile on your face. Then you saw him. The odd Fly Head who hadn’t moved. Your head tilted, so did Mahito’s. Then the other way, and he followed. And then you smiled at him, as sweet and genuine as it had been to the others. And something rippled inside him.

“Haven’t seen you before! I didn’t know you all came in different colours!” You laughed, holding out your own ice cream in his direction, “Well welcome. You’re safe here with me. Do you want some? C’mon!” You jiggled your hand in his direction as if you tempt him like a cat you found on the street. Mahito didn’t quite know what he was feeling. Why were you.. Being so kind? To this trash? These low level curses that hardly had brains! Were you stupid? Not knowing these creatures around you could suck you dry, weigh you down, make you miserable? It was overwhelming for Mahito. So he simply gave in and played along. He sampled the treat you offered. It was sweet. And he liked it.

Ever since that encounter Mahito had followed you everywhere you went. To work, the shops, out on excursions. Sometimes in the form of another creature, sometimes lagging behind as just himself. Having studied you up close he’d confirmed none of the lower grades were under your control in some way. Everything they did they were doing willingly. Why? Why did they do it? What did you offer these things that they could not obtain from just being curses? What did you have that he just couldn’t understand? What had you made him feel that day, and every day since?

He was pondering these thoughts at a park on his lonesome one day. He had tired of waiting for you to come out for your lunch break so he’d wandered off. He lazily swung back and forth on a swing, mind putting along as your methods all but tortured him. And then he heard your voice. 

“Hello.” He leaned back in his swing, looking at you upside down. You took a few steps back to make room for him, though you did not run away. “You’re the one who keeps following me right?” You asked, folding your hands in front of you. So you had noticed him! And here he thought himself invisible! Mahito rose his feet as he began to swing again. 

“Perhaps,” He mused, “Who’s asking?” Despite being curious, Mahito was still in many ways a childish being. Straight-forward answers were not in his wheelhouse. 

He heard you step around him and take a seat in the swing to his left, “The person you’ve been following for four weeks.” Your tone was still soft and your voice was like honey on his ears. Why had he waited for you to make contact? “I wasn’t sure if you were human or one of my little friends. You’re not like them.”

“You mean those curses?” Mahito asked, pointing past you. You glanced to see your ‘friends,’ all huddled together underneath a jungle gym. Smart enough to hide from Mahito. His energy was enough to scare them. He had grown that much in a mere four weeks.. 

“Curses?” Your brows quirked up, “I wouldn’t call them curses. They’re harmless once you get to know them.” You looked back at him. Mahito felt his own innocence being reflected in your eyes. You truly had no clue what kind of company you kept. Those sweet little things you so cherished were the bane of many peoples' existences. And yet you looked at them like puppies and kittens. What did you see him as then? What was he in the eyes of someone uninformed on the world of curses?  What was he?

“If you knew I was there why didn’t you talk to me?” Mahito asked. You for once let your smile drop. You looked contemplative. Did you yourself not understand your odd mutual fixation? Perhaps two strangers forever caught in one anothers orbit?

“Because,” You spoke but stopped. Your tongue dragged over your lips and Mahito watched so closely. Every movement, every blink, every twitch. The breaths you took, the pulse of your heart, the vibration of your very atoms. “Because I didn’t want to scare you. You looked so.. Lonely.” That word. Lonely. Mahito knew of loneliness. It often came with the very emotion that birthed him. And he had never once thought he was lonely. He was content wasn’t he? Doing his experiments on his own, finding other intelligent spirits to aid in his end goal. He was not lonely, he was never alone. So why did your eyes hurt him? Why did he once again feel compelled to run? Why was your kindness so terrifying?

“That’s the pot calling the kettle black huh?” Mahito jabbed back, dragging his feet until his swing stopped. “All these weeks I haven’t seen you interact with a single person outside of work! All you do is hang around with weak inferior spirits!” He stood as the words erupted from him. Once again, unequipped to handle these sudden emotions. So he did what children did in these situations. He threw a misdirected tantrum. 

“I am not lonely. Why would I ever be lonely? I have friends! People to talk to, play with, show my work to! You’re the lonely one! Too scared to talk to me for weeks on end! God you’re- You’re so pathetic!” Hate was something Mahito knew. He knew how to hurt people. And the look on your face said it all. Never had your unending kindness been met with such aggression. And part of Mahito loved that look on you. But another part of him wept for you. Love was his opposite. Something Mahito knew he could never comprehend. Not truly. He could pretend. Replicate it. Make copy after copy. But never could he match your wavering, unending love. 

He left before you could reply. He could have killed you. Make you into something cruel and grotesque. But the last shred of curiosity he had for you prevented him. Old sentiment. The first bout of it in his short existence. You were left in that park. And though you had just been verbally abused, your heart cried for the blue haired man. How could he not see how badly he was hurting? You could. You saw it in everyone. Everything. Every past failure, every hurt feeling, you could see it. Feel it. Even in those spirits you loved so much. Even in him. He radiated it. And right now all you could do was hope maybe one day, you could speak to him again. And maybe he wouldn’t be so cruel. 

Mahito couldn’t forget you though. Despite how he tried to bury his feelings. He knew you two were polar opposites. One born from hate, and one born to love. You were his foil. And he couldn’t move on. Not until he learned what it felt like. He was in his nature. He needed to know, to feel, to experiment. So after a few days of respite, he began following you again. Farther away this time, but he was there. Watching. And you kept walking. Waiting.

[cirtusmistress]

Hurricane

Authors Note: I wrote this about two years ago and posted it to AO3, and never cross-posted it to Tumblr. But given I want to get back into writing, I may as well start by posting what I got! So enjoy my first fic, two years late.

Ship ~ Brahms Heelshire x GN Reader

Tags ~ Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Reader is Competent, Storm prep, Brahms is Scared of Storms, Touch-Starved Brahms Heelshire, Reader Replaces Greta Evans, Minor Injuries, Doll Brahms Heelshire, One Shot, Gender-Neutral Pronouns

AO3 Crosspost

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

“A storm? Like, a thunderstorm? Or is it worse?” You asked. You’d been working for the Heelshire’s for around two months now. And though they’d left you with very detailed instructions on how to care for their beloved son, they had never brought up things such as house care. Honestly, you hadn’t planned on staying this long. Not into Autumn.

“A full on hurricane.” Malcolm answered, setting the last of the grocery bags down. He continued, “The worst one we’ve had in years apparently. They’re predicting outages and downed trees. I can help you secure the windows and doors if you’d like?” He offered. A sweet gesture. An olive branch of friendship. But you knew better than to take it.

During your short time at the Heelshire estate, and caring for Brahms, you’d learned a great many things. The most crucial being that whenever someone stayed around too long and stole your attention away from the doll you cared for, there was hell to pay. In one instance you found the dining room in complete disarray after simply inviting Malcolm in for tea, during a rare social moment for you. The worst case was when a friend of yours stopped by. They were a globetrotter, and seeing as you already had residence found it simpler to just stay with you. A mistake. One night was enough to send Brahms into the worst tantrum you’d ever seen. Multiple rooms destroyed, a window had been broken, and he had stolen your friend's passport. Your friendship didn’t last long after that. After all, who was to believe that a doll could cause so much harm?

“Thank you, Malcolm, but I’ll be fine. I’ve dealt with a few storms in my life, I’ll manage.” You replied. Malcolm studied you for a moment. Likely trying to read you, sniff out any signs of dishonesty. But, there were none. Just that warm smile that could melt anyone's heart. He gave a sigh of defeat and nodded.

“If you say so. Just give me a call if you need anything. I’ll come check on you when the hurricane passes.” With that he gave you a wave and headed back to his truck. You muttered a soft thanks, finally returning to your chores.

Brahms sat in the kitchen where he’d been waiting. Like he was listening to your conversation. You’d grown used to this odd job of yours. Caring for a doll as if it were human. Though you’d always figured there was more to this situation then most believed. You’d heard of people using dolls to cope with loss, the concept wasn’t lost on you. But for a couple well into their later years? And there were just.. Too many small things. Even in the rules. Playing music loud, reading in a loud clear voice, leaving food in the freezer. Food which you knew was going missing.

But the biggest tell was an accident. It had been about a month into the job. You’d actually begun to believe Brahms was a child's spirit trapped in the doll. What with him moving around on his own, and leaving you little offerings, and once saying your goddamn name when he was upset. But then, just by accident as you were putting Brahms to bed, you hit your foot against the wall. It had hurt so badly you thought you’d broken a toe. But what stood out in your mind even now was the sound the wall made. It didn’t make the thud you knew from stubbing your toe time and time again in youth. The wall sounded hollow. There had been an echo. Now you knew some older houses had hollow walls. Normally the cavities between the two layers were used for insulation. But that echo.. That wasn’t a normal hollow wall.

After that you’d started paying closer attention to the house and Brahms as you went about your day. Watching and listening. Countless nights where you’d lay in bed and just listen. You’d hear shuffling, the rare footstep like someone had stumbled. Once you swore you heard breathing. You noticed how many rooms had large paintings or cabinets, your size or larger. For a while you thought you were going mad. There was no way in hell that an elderly couple had been keeping their son in the walls for twenty years. But then you learned of the Heelshire’s deaths. Suicides. So many things pointing to something you didn’t quite know how to feel about. On one hand, you were now basically the sole guardian of a doll who was actually a stand-in for the hypothetical twenty-eight year old man in the walls. On the other, Brahms was now completely alone after twenty years of isolation. Alone, save for you. Sweet, kind, loving you who treated a porcelain doll like a real boy. Who read to him every night and tucked him in with a kiss. You couldn’t just leave him. No matter what Brahms was.

“We’re in for a storm, Brahms. I guess that means we’re having a slumber party downstairs tonight.” You cortled, putting the last of the groceries away. You took note of how little perishables Malcolm had dropped off. Thinking ahead. You wouldn’t be able to cook for however long the power was gone, if it did go that was.

You turned back to the doll, scooping him up and taking him with you. You figured the downstairs office would be the safest place. The windows were relatively small and were less likely to break. It would do for your purposes. You sat Brahms in the corner and got to work moving the desk out of the way. You’d have to lay down blankets and things to sleep on. You doubted the old fashioned Heelshire’s were going to have something like an air mattress.

You spent a good hour doing basic storm prep. Dragging some old blankets and comforters out of wardrobes and laying them down on the floor. Filling up buckets and the tubs with water. Getting crossword puzzles and cards. By the time that was all done, it had begun to rain outside. The calm before the storm you supposed. The last thing on your storm checklist was lanterns. This was an old house, you were certain that the Heelshire’s would have oil lamps somewhere. Naturally the first place you wanted to check was the attic.. But you knew better. After all, if your theory was right you didn’t want to scare the poor man by invading his space. So you settled on checking the cellar first.

Only issue was, you really couldn’t bring Brahms. You knew he was never meant to be alone but taking a fragile doll into a dark cellar was too risky. He’d have to stay upstairs. You were hoping he wouldn’t be too upset.

“Brahms, I’m headed to the cellar. I’ll be quick, I promise.” You hummed. With that, you headed down alone. You had been right, it was dark and musty and damp. You started to wonder if there was mold down here. You flicked on the old dingy light which surprisingly still worked. You began digging through the clutter. Old things like furniture, clothes never worn since the sixties, even some art pieces. It was like a time capsule. You didn’t have time to walk through history though, you needed to find anything that could give light without the use of electricity. Lower and lower you went through the piles, until finally you found something. A pair of old oil lamps and a small can of oil to go with it. You muttered a soft thanks, pulling them out from beneath wicker chairs. But what was behind them gave you pause.

The bricks were singed. Dark burn marks that showed age. Your eyes followed the marks. The furniture in here had covered them, but now they were exposed after your rummaging. They flowed over the bricks going upwards. They almost looked beautiful. But that beauty hid a tragedy that plagued this home. You knew why they’d been hidden with so much clutter.

Your thoughts were interrupted when something crashed behind you, making you scream and jump. When you turned you saw one of the mirrored vanities stored away had been smashed. The mirror shards now littered the floor. And on the steps sat the Brahms doll, staring you down. It took you a moment to catch your breath, realizing your error. Brahms didn’t want you uncovering his painful memories. And he’d made sure you knew that. Gathering yourself, you pushed the lamps aside and began to put all that you’d moved back into its place. Covering those painful memories back up, letting them remain hidden and forgotten. Once finished you picked the lamps and the can up and approached Brahms. Kneeling to his height you gave an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry Brahms,” you spoke with such a genuine tone of sincerity, “I shouldn’t have snooped around. But look! I found the lamps we’ll need!” You held up the lamps, jostling them a little so they clinked together. Of course the doll remained frozen. But just faintly, almost missable under the sound of rain pouring down, you heard panting. Like someone coming down from a rage.

“I’ll clean up the shards, then we’ll head back upstairs, okay?” You’d started speaking to Brahms out loud more after you’d learned about the walls. Feeding your own delusions some would say. You held your word, starting to pick up the larger shards and resting them on top of the vanity. The smaller ones you just brushed away with some loose fabric you found. You didn’t really plan on coming back down here anyways, not after that outburst.

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

You always found time moves slower when there was a storm. The day seemed to drag on as the storm became worse and worse. The wind had picked up and those raindrops just kept getting larger. It was loud, even on the bottom floor. You had settled on just simple sandwiches for dinner, making sure to put a ‘spare’ in the freezer. And after that you’d just settled in to do a crossword. It was.. Probably the first time in weeks where you felt safe. There was something about the dim lighting and blankets that just felt right. Secure. Warm. Brahms sat under the covers and you’d even given him a crossword book of his own. Slightly cruel, knowing he couldn’t move with you there with him. But at least you’d been talking to him. Funny, you always struggled talking with real people. But this doll turned you into a chatterbox. Maybe it was the simple fact no one was attempting to speak over you. Like someone was actually listening.

Your tranquility was disrupted by a large gust of wind, followed by a crash that made the manor shake. And what sounded like a scream. It had come from upstairs. Something inside you just knew. That crash was in the attic. You were running upstairs before you even had time to think. Up the stairs, and finding the attic ladder down. You were unsure if it had come undone itself or if someone had moved it. That didn’t matter as you climbed up. It was your first time in the attic but you didn’t get a chance to explore. A branch had flown off a tree and crashed through the wall, opening it up to the elements. You could only act, no time for clear thoughts. You grabbed a nearby blanket and started to desperately try to cover the hole, but another gale blew you back. There was nothing you could do to patch it right now, not unless you wanted to risk injury or worse, death.

Your rattled mind returned to the scream you had heard. Or at least you thought you had heard. Looking around you didn’t see a body but there was a bed up here. A tv, a sink.. Someone was living here. You didn’t have time to celebrate your theory being proven. Where was Brahms? Your eyes flitted around, finally landing back on the ladder. Somehow you had missed the very clear bloody handprint on it during your panic. But if Brahms was bleeding.. Oh God, how badly was he injured? Quickly you descended the steps, trying to find any sign of him. You were too panicked to even fear this man who was hiding from you for so long. All you knew somewhere in this house he was hurt and bleeding.

“Brahms?” You called, starting to check every room. Could he have climbed back into the walls? Fearing you discovering him? You checked everything on the top floor and worked down, calling his name in a more desperate tone with each exclamation. But finally you found him. Turning the corner back into the downstairs study. There he sat, in place of the doll. It wasn’t what you expected to see. The mask was shocking at first glance. You were momentarily stun locked. He was bigger than you anticipated, even sitting down. Finally you snapped out of it when he looked at you, and held out his bleeding hand. It had a sizable gash across the palm.

“It hurts,” He spoke in a child-like voice. The voice you’d heard months ago. His head drooped a touch as he spoke, “Can you fix it?” He asked. Finally, after another beat, you nodded. Your mouth felt dry. Too dry to speak. In the kitchen you found the first aid, and took it back with you. He hadn’t moved from his place on the makeshift bed. You knelt beside him, and carefully took his hand in yours. Up close you could see the burn scars that ran along his entire right side. Suddenly his outburst in the cellar made much more sense.. Carefully you applied some rubbing alcohol to the cut. That made Brahms whimper and pull his hand back. The look in his eyes behind that mask was murderous.

“I’m sorry, Brahms, but I have to.. To clean it.” You choke out. Your mouth is still far too dry. You hold your hand out for his again, giving him those warm eyes again. He would trust you wouldn’t he? After all, you had been the one to care for him all this time. He looked at your hand, then back to your face. For a moment Brahms almost seemed entranced by your eyes before conceding and resting his hand back in yours.

“Good boy..” You said, starting to clean the wound. He made a noise akin to that of a moan at your praise. You supposed you were the first person to touch him or give him praise in years. He was likely touch starved. Once the cut was clean, you grabbed the bandages and began to wrap his hand. He kept watching you. His breath was heavy behind that mask.

Finally you were done, and you let his hand go. Brahms examined your work, how carefully you’d wrapped him, and the cute little bow you’d tied it off with. As he studied his hand, you studied him. Despite the childish voice he put on, he was very much an adult. You could see his beard poking out from beneath the porcelain. He was actually rather handsome, you’d admit. The rain picked up again, and the lights began flickering. Brahms jumped and quickly moved closer to you. Before you knew it his head was hiding in your lap. Apparently he was afraid of the storm. Made sense, it had attacked him after all. Carefully you began to stroke his hair in an attempt to soothe him.

“We’ll be okay. Just a little wind and rain, that’s all. Maybe we can play cards? Or I can tell you a story?” You offered. Just trying to find anything to distract him from the weather outside damaging his home. Slowly he nodded, not lifting his head from your waist. Actually his grip seemed to grow tighter. You could feel him inhaling a little too deeply, and his hands started to squeeze your thighs as he held tight. You felt bad thinking how unsurprised that made you. But he had lived in the walls for twenty years.. And you were likely the first person he’d had stick around.

You settled back on to the makeshift mattress, Brahms never letting you go. He shuffled up a bit, so his face was resting against your chest. You kept stroking his hair, picking your brain for a story to tell. Something romantic as you had a wild feeling that was right up his alley. You recounted the story of Pride and Prejudice, not skipping any details of the classic story. Brahms seemed all too enthralled by the tale. He even began to kick his feet in the air when you recounted the climax between Elizabeth and the beloved Mr.Darcy. Just before you could finish though, the lights finally gave out. Brahms tensed up against you and again hugged you tight against him. You let out a wheeze. You needed to get the lamps but he seemed content just smothering you until the lights came back themselves. Finally you managed to sit up as he continued to cling like a baby koala.

“Brahms, sweetheart, I need to light the lamps.” You manage to get out. But that seems to make his grip tighter. He shakes his head, face pulling your shirt back and forth.

“No. No lamps. I don’t want any fire in the house.” He whimpered. Your heart broke a little. That night seemed to have never left Brahms.. You stroked his back soothingly before trailing your hands to cup his cheeks.

“Brahms, we need light. It’ll be okay, I can work an oil lamp-” You were cut off as Brahms slammed you back down against the floor. Even with the cushioning it knocked the air from your lungs. Your hands fell from his face beside yourself as his own gripped your shoulders.

“No fire in the house. Never again.” His voice was no longer that high falsetto. Instead it was deep, aggressive. He sounded his age. You gasped for air, before nodding. Tears had pricked your eyes. You felt a twinge of guilt as you questioned whether or not he’d hurt you.

Finally you found your voice again, “Okay Brahms. No lamps, I promise. Do you want another story?” You asked in a feeble attempt to calm him back down. Lucky for you it seemed to work. Brahms grip on your shoulders loosened, and he returned his head to your chest. He nodded and urged you on to tell your story.

A shaky sigh escaped you. You thanked your lucky stars that you could calm him so easily. As you began telling another story, the rain and wind outside crashed into the manor. You knew Brahms would never harm you. Not you. Not his caretaker. But you began to wonder. How long would this storm last? Suddenly, in the dark, the room no longer felt secure.