#even after all these years; grelle still owns my heart

[dove-da-birb]

Oh gosh, for now I'll just use my current favourites.

ABSOLUTE WRECK, Z E R O RIZZ

L e v i a t h a n (Obey Me); the wettest of cats. Would be a wreck before the date, during the date, and a week after the date. It could be something as simple as watching anime together and he'd be a wreck. Would practice talking with Henry 2.0. He would be DYING if he saw me in a suit or a dress. Is shaking in his sneakers and sweating his ass off.

Mild Wreck, Awkward But Endearing

Azul Ashengrotto (TWST); would probably practice EVERYTHING before a date. He even made sure to make it at the Lounge so that everything would go according to plan. Practiced what he was going to say at least five times to himself while getting ready. Would be nervously shaking in his boots, not quite to ass sweating levels though.

Viktor (Arcane); he spends most of his time in the lab tinkering on stuff. Would probably mutter to himself what he was going to say, but would rather listen to my interests or rambling about his current projects; I encourage the rambling. Would be a tad nervous. Also would fumble over his words depending on how dressed up I am. Probably would get clammy hands.

Julian Devorak (Arcana); he acts all suave, but he's a massive dork. Rambles to himself before the date, and Mazelinka would swat him gently on the head with her spoon to get him out of his own thoughts. He blushes easily, so his face would be pink the entire time. Is all talk, zero bite. Melodramatic theatre kid. (If you played his route, you know what I'm talking about).

Just Is Themselves

Jaehee Kang (Mystic Messenger); CAFE DATE. She would mentally rehearse what she was going to say, and trying her best not to be awkward; she hasn't gone on many dates before. She would smile and compliment the look, the only hint that she really liked it would be the faintest tinge of pink to her cheeks. CHERITZ LET US ROMANCE HER I'M BEGGING-

Jade Leech (TWST); wouldn't overly plan what he was going to say, as he wanted to see how the date would progress if he were just himself. Would complement the look, and we would probably go to something we're both interested in. Wouldn't be nervous, as he wouldn't go on a date if he didn't think it would go well.

Not Nervous, Rizz Master

Grelle Sutcliffe (Black Butler); when she likes someone she goes all in, and doesn't really plan anything in advance. Would gush over the outfit, especially if it matched, or had similar design elements of her own. I would be the nervous wreck in this situation, and stumbling over my words. Just SHE. (I love her so much, it's not funny)

Floyd Leech (TWST); he doesn't really act much different, and wouldn't see a point in getting all nervous and rehearsing lines. The only thing that would maybe be different would be the amount of PDA... and teasing and playful flirting. It wouldn't be overly serious, more so casual and fun, reflecting his own personality.

Rook Hunt (TWST); so he would practice, but not the conversation, just the poetry he made. Laying on heavy with the French compliments (I can understand you, you know). Would kiss the back of my hand, and wink. Again, I would be a nervous wreck in this situation. ESPECIALLY if he did unexpected PDA, like SIR-

There are more, but these are the only ones I felt strongly about. Thanks for the self-indulgent brain rot hours, Auburn. Yes, Leviathan got his own category, and Azul was this close to going into it as well.

a certain fictional fixation of mine has me thinking about first dates SO!!!

tell me!! which fictional crush on yours would be an absolute wreck before a date??? who is shaking in their boots and sweating their ass off??? who is rehearsing what they want to say in the mirror??? who DIES when they see you dressed up?????

some food for thought C:<

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

Soulmate alphabeth J with Will if you write for him?

SOULMATE AU ALPHABET

j…uxtaposition (your soulmate is the exact opposite of you, yet you find yourselves complementing one another).

I sure do!!

this is so cute omg he definitely needs someone to mellow him out a lil bit <3

Before you met your soulmate, you went through life fantasizing what they must be like.

You knew how it worked ― they were going to be your complete opposite. People describe you as upbeat, you smile a lot, you’re quite relaxed.

So you wondered if that meant your soulmate was going to be some uptight stiff who wouldn’t know fun if it smacked them upside the head. Although you vented your worries to your friends, and they assured you that you were exaggerating, you couldn’t help but think about that.

If they were going to be so different than you, then how would you get along? Surely it wouldn’t be so bad… this was the way it was for everyone, and plenty of people were incredibly happy with their soulmates.

You were still concerned, but it turned out you had no reason to be.

Your soulmate’s name is WILLIAM, and even though he’s this incredibly no-nonsense man, he’s not without feelings. He’s quite soft indeed when it comes you despite being quite strict when it comes to… everything and everyone else.

He’s trusted you with a lot of knowledge about his world, the world of Grim Reapers. It’s one of the reasons it was easy for him to parse that you were his soulmate; he works with souls on a daily basis, or at least he’s worked with them extensively in the past. He understands that part of the nature of people as a whole. Whether it’s humans or Reapers or demons or angels, every living creature possesses a soul.

It was rather inevitable that he would know before you did.

How long has it been since you met him first? Years, you think. On the one hand, you’re so happy with him, the time has flown by. On the other hand, every minute without him seems like an eternity.

Perhaps that’s what led you to be here at your own lunchtime, visiting the London branch of the Reaper Association where William works as a supervisor. You’re one of the few humans he allows inside at your own discretion so long as you don’t distract his juniors.

Of course, the scene that’s unfolding as you walk down the hallway to William’s office is one that’s played out many times before. There’s Agent Grell Sutcliff, someone you vaguely know, having clearly been dragged in after some kind of… incident… and William, listening to their unimpressed chatter as they try to defend whatever it was they were doing.

“Afternoon, darling,” you hum as you greet William with a kiss on the cheek. “What’s going on?”

As soon as Grell sees you, their face lights up. “Oh! (Name)! Thank goodness, my knight in shining armor! You’ll get me off the hook, won’t you, sweetie??”

You snort. “That depends! What did you do?”

“What they did is irrelevant,” William interjects. He pushes his glasses up before giving you the most withering look he can muster when it comes to you. (Which is maybe a quarter of the one he gives everyone else.) “All you need to know, (Name), is that their actions have been the cause of more paperwork, so they need to do said paperwork instead of playing hooky.”

“Awww.” You lean against the wall and look down at Grell with fake disappointment. “You did the crime, Grell, so you have to do the time.”

They pout at you. “Oh! Well, I see how it is! Let me turn around so you can retrieve your knife from my back!!”

Your hand makes its way through William’s hair, mussing it up a bit. Another kiss is pressed to his cheek for good measure. “Buuuut, William, my love… are you sure they need to do all the paperwork today? Look at the poor dear ― they do have a life, you know! Maybe they were planning to go kiss their beau or something.”

Your soulmate arches an eyebrow at you. “Perhaps they should have thought of that before causing their usual brand of mischief.”

“Oh, have a heart!” You slip your hand down from his hair to his shoulders. “I know you’ve got one under all that professionalism. Cut Agent Sutcliff a little bit of slack. They did just do a bunch of overtime as a favor to you last week. Fair’s fair, isn’t it?”

The look William gives you speaks to exasperation, although the edges of it round out when his eyes meet yours. After a moment, he sighs quietly and turns back to Grell, no less stern than he was a few seconds ago. “Agent Sutcliff, I expect you to count yourself lucky. For this extra paperwork, I’ll give you an extension of twenty-four hours to complete it. Have it submitted by 6 P.M. tomorrow or there will be consequences which I can assure you that you will not like.”

“(Name), you’re an angel! I’m so sorry I doubted you!” Grell squeals, jumping up to hug you. For what it’s worth, you return the hug happily. “I owe you one!”

“And I’ll take it when you least expect it!” you grin. “Now go… kiss your beau or whatever you had planned!”

You don’t have to tell them twice; they’re off like a Roman candle, sprinting down the hallway.

Once they’re gone, William takes you in his arms to give you a kiss. He keeps it brief given that he’s still in the office, but there’s no shortage of affection poured into it. “You realize that I only compromised because it was your suggestion. Had you not saved their sorry rear end, they would have gotten home rather late.”

“I know. And that’s exactly why I stepped in.” You smile into the kiss, pressing yourself against him. “Even though they need to do the paperwork, I think you all work yourselves much too hard. The entire office needs some leeway, including Grell. And including you.”

“Mmh,” he murmurs, as if he doesn’t quite believe that. “Is this your way of asking me to come home early?”

“Perhaps. What do you say?”

His eyes drift closed, and just like a minute ago, he gives you a gentle sigh. “I can’t shirk my duties entirely. I can’t simply leave now. How about if I come home an hour early?”

Everything else aside, the two of you really do balance out each other nicely.

You look forward to balancing him out and having him balance you out for the rest of your life.

[grelleswife]

1, 3,4,5,7,8,9,12,13,16,18,19,20,21, 22, 23, 24,25,26,27,28,30 [INHALES] for the man the myth the legend himself SEBASTIAN!!!! 🎉🥳

1. My first impression of them.

One of my earliest memories of the Phantomhive butler is hanging out at a friend's dorm during undergrad and seeing a Season 1 poster on her wall...with O!Ciel in the Little Robin dress and Sebas in his tutor's disguise, tilting the boi's chin up. At the time, I wondered, "Why the heck is that creepy man looming over that poor little girl?" Oh, for the days of my lost innocence. 😭 However, once I learned a few years later that the fujoshi nonsense surrounding the series is (thankfully) not canon, and due to my soft spot for pretty, morally bankrupt anime men, I was intrigued by the bastard. A demon thot who murders people with butter knives? Sounded like a concept I could get behind! And the rest, as they say, is history.

3. A song that reminds me of them.

"Villain" by Stella Jang

4. How many people I ship them with.

Grelle, Agni, Mey Rin, Wolfram, Hannah (sometimes). I also envision Claude and Sebas as hostile exes who parted ways after a bitter divorce.

5. My favorite ship of them.

It depends on the ambience I’m craving. If I want a ship that comforts like eating a warm bowl of soup prepared by someone who utterly adores you, or nestling into a cozy sanctuary of blankets while the rain gently falls outside your bedroom window...an eternal devotion whose magnitude shatters the paltry constraints of time and before whose radiance even the dark inevitability of death must cower...I turn to Sebagni. If I need forbidden romance woven from bloodied ribbons and the taut, knife-sharp threads of animosity transmogified into an impossible love, dancing like a capricious flame in the space between poetry and prose...I go for Sebagrelle.

7. A quote of them that you remember.

"And not even a devil or a god can bind the heart of another in the truest sense of the word." And, of course, his "one hell of a butler" catchphrase is indelibly etched into my memory. 🤪

8. Your favorite outfit of them.

This pop idol attire!

I also have a soft spot for this outfit that Nina made him wear because it showcases his pretty waist. :3

9. Your least favorite outfit of them.

Sir, I love you, but what is this apron? 😆

12. Sexuality headcanon.

Pansexual! A demon's attraction transcends gender; Sebas just falls in the love with the person.

13. Your favorite friendship they have.

His relationship with Agnj. Yes, I'm aware that Yana said Sebastian views the khansama as just another mortal grasshopper (albeit a highly competent and exceptional one), but he's also one of the few humans Sebastian genuinely respects. The demon treats him like a peer, listens to his advice, is deeply impressed by his achievements...and cradles Agni's body in his arms with one of the most poignant expressions we've ever seen on his face after he and O!Ciel discover the khansama's been murdered. Not to mention that Agni was the first mortal to call Sebastian his friend in the all the centuries the demon's lived through! Yet another reason why I ship them—what's more beautiful than getting to be in love with your best friend? >w<

16. A childhood headcanon.

Already answered here!

18. How do you think they were as a kid?

I headcanon that demon babeys tend to be feral beasts, running amok, attacking and devouring those weaker than them, and trying to avoid annihilation at the hands of more powerful devils. Sebastian's first few decades of life were pretty brutal, relying on his own wits and strength in order to survive and be deemed worthy of acceptance by mature, adult demons. Soft fanon Dadbastian tries to make sure that his human foster son doesn't ever need to endure that kind of hardship.

19. The most random ship you've seen people have with them.

The Sebastian/Teletubbies fics still haunt my dreams, oozing into my subconscious like Tubby Custard, and I incurred irreparable psychic damage from Sebastian/Obama.

20. A weird headcanon.

Sometimes, when Sebastian decides to treat himself to a luxurious bubble bath (because sweet legions of hell, he deserves one), he'll keep his hooker boots of glory on even after he gets in the tub. It's about the ✨ vibes ✨

21. When do you think they were at their happiest?

In a perverse sort of way, I think canon!Sebastian is probably at his happiest while eating a soul. He's put care and effort into seasoning it with pain, misery, wickedness...now it's time to reap the rewards in full. For fanon!Sebastian, it would be when receiving love and acceptance even after people were aware of his true nature, whether those affections were platonic or romantic.

22. When do you think they were at their lowest?

I imagine the immediate aftermath of the Campania really set him back on his heels. Sebastian's well aware that he's capable of being killed, but it wasn't until Undertaker stabbed him with his death scythe that this painful reality sank in. The demon was pushed to the precarious edge of exhaustion, rattled by the stark realization that he might have lost his young master if luck hadn't tipped in their favor. The whole incident sent spiderweb cracks running through his veneer of confidence.

23. Future headcanon.

Regardless of his protests to the contrary, the demon never fully recovers from the bereavement he feels after ending his contract with the little earl. Whenever another human summons him to strike a Faustian bargain with the devil, he quietly insists that they call him Sebastian, and refuses to answer to any other name, because he simply cannot bear to let go of the last vestiges of his identity as Phantomhive butler (yes, I'm being sentimental and foolish here, no, I do not care).

24. What do you think is a secret they have that they have never told anyone?

Deep down, Sebastian has always felt inadequate, though he overcompensates for it with perfectionism and inflated arrogance.

25. When do you think they acted the most OOC.

*glares at Season 2*

26. When do you think they were being "themselves" the most?

During scenes with O!Ciel like their first meeting after he was summoned, their terrifying confrontation during the Green Witch arc, etc., when there is no butler's mask to conceal the horrors that lurk behind his servile smile.

27. If they could meet a character from another show/movie/etc., who would be the most fun for them to meet?

I know next to nothing about Jojo's Bizarre Adventure, but based on my superficial impressions of that universe, I could see Sebastian fitting in quite nicely there due to how melodramatic he is!

28. The most unnecessary thing they ever did?

Be rude to the other Phantomhive servants. 🥺They're doing their best, you bastard! 😖

30. The funniest scene they had?

The scene from the start of the circus arc where Sebastian leaps into the circus ring like a dork to fawn over Betty the tiger, and she proceeds to chomp on his head. 🤣

[nanamisflowerfield]

Hi! Could you please do some Kuroshitsuji headcanons for Undertaker, Grell, and Ceil, with a s/o who had recently got the hanahaki disease(if you don't know what hanahaki is it's just a disease from one sided love that can make you cough up flowers. It can only be cured by having the other love you back, or surgery)?

Hey! Of course! I love the hanahaki disease AU so much! Always wanted to write it but never have... So thanks for the request! I will try to do it well! (´｡• ω •｡`) I didn’t know if you wanted to have it fluffy or angsty so I made it angsty... (>﹏<)

Many fans argued about Grell/Grelle’s pronounce and I’ve read many different things too, which is why I will use they/them for Grell. Sorry, if some people won’t be happy about it! (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞

I will also edit it later to put pics in there. Didn’t find any good ones I might want to use, so sorry if they don’t have any yet! (〃＞＿＜;〃)

Warning: Angsty! (no happy ends)

Hanahaki Disease AU

⚰️ “Oh my, how interesting!” Said the whitehaired man, as he glanced into the trash can. How it seemed his dear friend had a little secret!

⚰️ In there he found several flowers strained in the purest bloody red he could ever find, but some one tried to hide it from him, how it seemed.

⚰️ Now his fun had begun.

⚰️ “(Y/N).” You heard him voice call you, when you helped him out in his funeral parlor. Glancing back at the giggling mess, you called a friend and behind his back a crush, he threw something at your direction. Thanks to your fast reflexes you caught it items he just threw a second ago to you.

⚰️ It looked very similar to a bloody flower you tried to hide…

⚰️ “Looks like someone has the hanahaki disease!” He chuckled and wiggled with his eyebrows. “Sooo, who is it?” But the old Grim Reaper never got an answer, because you run out as fast as possible.

⚰️ Of course the old man would laugh at it! It wasn’t funny. It wasn’t great. You were in pain for so many weeks. Months! You were coughing and coughing, sometimes even choking on these damn flowers, hoping that your love for this maniac will soon disappear, but it never did. You wished it so much, but how did idiot made you fall for him even more?!

⚰️ No matter how often you tried to hide yourself from this man, he found you, asking you why your disease still didn’t disappear, asking you who you loved, asking you why your beloved didn’t love you back! Why for goodness sake did he had to be so charming and annoying at the very same time!?

⚰️ “Leave me alone!” You yelled at him, as more flowers came out of your mouth, trying to choke you.

⚰️ “You know… If you really hate this flowers so much, why don’t you just-?“ - “No.” You interrupted him.

⚰️ Surgery? No thank you. You were to scared to never fall for somebody ever again. Losing the funny memories of him…? This great and warm feeling you had, whenever you thought of your dearest Undertaker?

⚰️ Everybody said that love is great. It makes you happy, but it also has one price. Pain. Yes, that is truly a feeling that you know too well. You felt it every day, not because of the long-haired man, not, because of your disease.

⚰️ You knew that Undertaker loved his “guests” and the dead more than anybody else. There was nothing that he loved more and that is why, you were so sure, that he would never love you back. Undertaker wasn’t somebody who would easily love another living person. He was different and he only wanted to have strange and funny things in his life, which is why you always thought of yourself as not worthy for him.

⚰️ But some weeks later, you sat there under the table, staring at the blood strained flower in your hand, when you heard a knock on your door. “(Y/N)!” You heard a giggling voice. Undertaker.

⚰️ Will you let him in? Will you tell him what you choose? To take the surgery? Risk so many things or just keep on going…?

👠 Every time you heard a specific person screaming “Sebastiaaaaaan!~ ❤️”, you just rolled with your eyes. But how comes, that your heart was yearning for that one person so much, that didn’t love you back.

👠 Grell had only they eyes on Sebastian and it made you jealous and angry. Couldn’t the redhead love you too? But of course not. You will probably never be as great as the black-haired demon.

👠 One day, you woke up, after realizing that you had strong feelings for the crazy Grim Reaper, you rushed to the bathroom, feeling something in your throat, but no matter how much you coughed, it didn’t come out until your eyes started to tear up. Was it… blood? Why did you taste blood? What was going out? When you coughed harder and harder, it finally came out of your throat. Flower petals and blood. Shocked, you stared at it. No… Why…? Why did that happen?!

👠 You knew from day one that you’ve got that horrible disease, because of Grell. No, he wouldn’t want to hurt you, for you two are good friends, but the long-haired Grim Reaper did not love you back. That is why you coughed flowers up, felt this pain, had to clean your clothes from your blood. It was because of your hurtful one-sided love!

👠 “He looked so wonderful; don’t you agree?! ❤️ Just so perfect and so-… Mh? (Y/N)? Are you alright? Why are you coughing so much? Do you want me to get you something to drink?” You shook your head.

👠 Nothing could help you with your problem, except if one of two things happen to you. Either Grell loves you back or… a surgery. You were sure, that the one you loved from the bottom of your heart, would never love you back but a surgery? Was it really necessary? If you will choose this, you will never love Grell ever again. Some people even told you, that they lost their memories of their beloved ones and some others of the ability to ever love again.

👠 Day after day passed and here you stood. In front of your trash can, looking at the flowers you used to love before you’ve got your disease. They were so beautiful, but they were strained with your red blood. It smelled horrible and looked disgusting in there. You never wanted to see it ever again.

👠 Grell’s eyes widen when he walked into your room, to ask you for your opinion on their new outfit, but when the redhead couldn’t find you, he noticed the smell of blood. Slowly, they walked to your trash can to see the flowers and immediately knew what sign it was. He knew of this disease. Why was somebody so horrible and didn’t loved you back? Afterall you were Grell’s best friend! The Grim Reaper knew you better than anybody else! But he never realized that you have fallen for somebody!

👠 Quickly they followed a loud noise, Grell heard nearby and saw you lying on the ground.

👠 You looked so sleepy on the ground. So tired. In your weak hands you held three bloody flowers, while the other was in front of your mouth, keeping it shut.

👠 “Hey, (Y/N)! Come on! Wake up! Tell me, what should I do?” Grell panicked.

👠 Now you had to choose… Will you have that surgery or will you live until the day the flowers close your throat and let you sleep there where the Grim Reaper never wanted to see you in for, they will never reciprocate your feelings

♕ “Should we continue, or do you prefer something else, (Y/N)?” Asked the one and only head of the Phantomhive house. “What are you thinking about? You are distracted. Our entire chess game.” – “Mh? Nothing.” You lied and Ciel knew it.

♕ So what exactly was going on in the head of yours? Some might think important business thoughts and some others mayhap that you were thinking about the usual things people in your age thought about. But the truth was… Nothing.

♕ The only thing you did on your chair was actually to not start coughing.

♕ The reason? Ciel. You fell for him. Hard. Which was not a good idea, because you knew him. You knew every secret of him. He not only told you about it, because you were a dear friend of his and he trusted you, but also because he saw you as a sibling.

♕ It hurt you, but this wasn’t the only pain you felt for the couple of weeks, no. It was the pain in your body.

♕ Everyday and every night you coughed up big flowers and flower petals, only because your feeling weren’t reciprocate.

♕ A few friends even told you, that it could be possible for him to fall for you, but you never believed them. Sure, he didn’t love his fiancée like you loved him, but he only had his eyes on one thing. His goal. The one and only reason for him to summon a demon and make a pact with it! Revenge.

♕ Even thought you never liked the idea, you supported him, thanks to your strong feelings. This very warm feeling you held for him, which guided you towards him.

♕ It made you sick.

♕ So sick, that you started coughing again and rushing out of the room, while Ciel called after you and run a few steps after you until he glanced down to see a small bloody flower petal. Was it always there…?

♕ But Ciel was smart. Very smart, which is why he figured out why you have run away.

♕ He knew of your love for him and tried to reject you gently, which made your disease worse than it already was.

♕ It started with you coughing them to you nearly choking on them, desperate to breath, always grasping on something while the most beautifulest flowers left your body. Petal after petal.

♕ Ciel even suggested to help you find a doctor, but you declined it. It was your problem and you were old enough to make your own decisions! You wanted to choose it on your own if you wanted to have this surgery or… well… Sleep forever…

♕ But the day has come, where you stood in front of Ciel and told him your decision and hopefully he will support you like in all those years he stood by your side…

[lovee-infected]

Hi may I please have headcannons for Ciel Phantomhive who got transported to Twisted wonderland.

It got a bit long for headcanons but why not ? Ciel in twisted wonderland has got a lot to tell lol

♦♥♠♣

He assumes it all to be a dream when he wakes up in NRC , as he slides the door of his coffin open just to fall to the ground

He tries and calls for Sebastian , considering this situation having something to do with him .When Sebastian doesn't show up , he leds out a moody growl trying to find someone or a way out of wherever he was

Mirror hall didn't seem a bad place for him to wake up at ; since most of the designs remained the same over hundreds of years it was kinda similar to victorian styles from Ciel's original time . He low-key starts admiring decorations and unfortunately , steps on something's tail

Grim naturally freaks out being woken up from his slumber like this and in a few seconds the whole salon is set on fire

Crowley arrives just in time to find Ciel almost choking Grim while shouting at him to do something ; poor Grim passes out when Crowley finally freed him from the savage Phantomhive's hands

Crowley isn't sure what to do first , punishing him for intense violence or clarifying which dorm would be responsible for him

He leaves judgement to the mirror and...it doesn't go quite as expected : " Your soul is...no . Not again...this one doesn't belong to any dorms either ," mirror says . Crowley got terrified thinking that it was similar to MC's situation , but he got even worse as the mirror says : " I see nothing through him because...I see no soul "

Crowley argues that there must be a mistake but Ciel himself knows that his soul no longer belongs to him , but to Sebastian

Ciel asks if the mirror knows anything about his contract , but neither the mirror nor headmaster had any idea on what he was talking about

Ciel decides to skip that part since he doesn't want to spill more tea himself , so he asks where he is

After Crowley's hour long presentation and telling Ciel that he's stuck in twisted wonderland until Crowley finds a way to send him back home , poor boy nervously smirks

He is now sure of it all being a dream so he tries anything that would help him to wake up : Pinching himself , slapping , screaming and finally , throwing himself out of window - He is lucky that Crowley catches him before his head crashes the ground

He almost saw dead with his two eyes , so it couldn't be a dream anymore

He first freaks out at how he can't come back , but then calms down realizing that he won't stay here for too long ;Sebastian would not let

Sebastian isn't one demon to give up on his soul just by him disappearing , he is way greedier and stubborner and would do anything it takes to have his rights as long as Ciel isn't dead . So being caught in a different world or dimension was no stop for Sebastian , specially thinking that demons themselve came from another dimension

Ciel decides to be hopeful that Sebastian would find him anyway , so he says that he'll wait just there until Sebastian comes for him , ignoring Crowley's ramblings wanting him to stop being stubborn

After a few hours Ciel gives up , accepting that he can't last on his own if he just waits for Sebastian to show up : What is taking that bastard so long...

The kind and good-hearted Crowley offers him a vip stay at their all Happy and comfortable hotel , aka Ramshackle dorm

Ciel argues that he just can't live like a pig , but Crowley states that he's either staying out or at Ramshackle's . He angrily growls , having to deal with it

The next morning he wakes up to see no one but Grim , which made both of them scream . MC catches the pan before Grim could throw it at Ciel , and Ciel brings out his gun- . MC then slaps him for rudeness and takes the gun

He ends up having to head classes with MC and Grim since he has nothing else to do , though he was too young to head any of the classes

Ciel isn't used to heading to public classes , but he's okay with them since he has his experience from Weston College , but something else irritates him :

This school was a bit too similar to Weston College. Not only atmosphere but also students . He basically shared the same class with a green haired version of Greenhill . Sebek is nothing different from him except being...more annoying . He couldn't stop talking about someone he called young master which makes him look a bit like Agni

Same goes for Ace and Deuce , they seemed kinda familiar but Ciel isn't sure where he's seen them before

He doesn't like Crowley because the way he acts , talks and hides his eyes remind him of Undertaker ; making him feel unsafe whenever he is around

This annoying pace continues for him ; a socially awkward emo with long blue hair who is good enough to be Gregory Violet's Identical twin , a teenage-version of Agni who shares the same wild spirit as Suma , and many others

He thought that it couldn't get any worse until he almost screams Snake at a guy who looks JUST- LIKE - HIM , sleeping under a tree . Silver wakes up to Ciel's fascinated gaze and gives him a confused look , that makes Ciel run away

School on the other hand is terrible : Magic's history is nothing like the history he is learned by Sebastian , but he could handle studying something all new . The problem is with the rest of classes : Animal language , alchemy and and anything that requires any talent in magic ; but PE is the worst . His body is already pretty weak and he falls at asthma attacks several times . To add to that his height is another thing he had to keep up with , he is at least 10 centimeters shorter than even the smallest ones there and of course , Night raven's unraveled students don't mind bullying a short moody kiddo-

Beside his enormous problems , there are other advantages as well ;

Ciel isn't much of a people person , but students there are rather interesting to him

Still most of them seem neutral to him , but there are also ones who catch his eyes :

He doesn't like : Grim (for obvious reasons) , Ace and Deuce (too loud and annoying ) , Cater ( Is always playing with some odd invention called phone *) , Leona and Ruggie ( they bully him ) , Jade ( Looks and talks like Sebastian ) , Floyd ( looks like an illegal combination of Sebastian and Grell...+ calls him baby seal ) , Rook ( stalks on him) , Sebek ( too annoying)

He low-key likes : Riddle ( he respects him organized nature + they look a bit similar) , Trey ( acts like a loyal servant ) , Azul ( is smart with contracts and seems to be a man of culture + runs a cafe with good teas and desserts) , Idia ( he weird , yet interesting ) , Silver ( reminds him of Snake) , Malleus ( is mysterious and looks like an almighty master )

The rest are just neutral to him

( * ) : Ciel obviously doesn't know what a phone is , along with many other things invented after his age ; he thinks they are all magical tools and not something created by the hand of man

Riddle invites him to tea parties and Ciel appreciates it , at least one thing that made him calm down in this crazy world

He once goes to Mister S's shop and Sam immediately senses a demonic aura around him , asking him tons of questions about the demon shielding him . Ciel dodges from answering each and every one of them but Sam isn't yet satisfied . He doesn't argue as he Ciel resists answering but Ciel is about to leave , he tells something that makes his blood run cold : " ...We'll soon meet this mister Sebastian in person , little demon ; My friend on the other side told me"

When learning that Azul is a master of contracts , Ciel goes to him to see if he knows anything about contracts made with demons ; which he either doesn't really know or doesn't want to share since Ciel has nothing to give as the price

Azul though still sends the twins after him since he's starting to get interested after his demon sorted questions ; which made him curious of what this child might actually know

Ciel once steps into Ignihyde and gets out in 0.01 seconds . His mind isn't yet prepared to deal with a technology which won't be yet discovered until hundreds of years later from his original time

Other than Ignihyde , the dorm which really makes him feel uncomfortable is Scarabia . The atmosphere is just like Suma's palace and getting reminded of that horrible massacre with Agni's death isn't really pleasant . He meets both Kalim and Jamil in school and Kalim even invites him to parties , but he immediately says no . He decides to stay away from there as much as possible

Savanaclaw is his danger zone , he steps in = He dies . He once calls Leona Pathetic nasty cat and that is enough for Leona to set a prize for his head

Malleus on the other hand seems to be appreciating this little guest . Ciel feels a bit unsafe around him as Malleus notices his supernatural secrets , including the seal under his blindfold without him mentioning it ; but Malleus confronts him that he doesn't want anything from him and he's just interested that's all

Rook hears from Octavinelle students that Azul is after the child , and that makes him enter the challenge uninvitedly ; the Ciel catching game . After all he lives to be the greatest of hunters and also , whatever the reason was , Pomefiore would have an advantage holding what Octavinelle needed

If it wasn't because of MC , Grim , Ace and Deuce sticking to him all day he would've got caught long ago , but no one could kidnap him this easily when others were around

With his terrible situation at classes , daily argues with Grim and anyone else , bully routines and almost half of the school after him he knows that he won't last there much longer

Ciel now can't help but to pray for Sebastian to find him sooner wherever he is now...

♦♥♠♣

Note : Now now , would you guys like a second part for this in which Sebastian this time , finds his way to twisted wonderland..? (:

Update: Part 2 here!

Tagging : @lethlia @xxunrxvelingxx @ji-yaaan

[chibimyumi]

how would you describe ciel’s and sebastian’s relationship? like yes literally it’s contractor and the one who agrees to the contract. but like their day to day relationship with eachother. i dont ship them but i love how they interact with one another but don’t know how to characterize their relationship.

Dear Anon,

O!Ciel and Sebastian’s relationship is not something I could fit into any inter-human relationship categories. This is because theirs is simply something that seems very unlikely for humans to have in our society. However, that is exactly what makes this master-servant duo interesting.

Most clinically, O!Ciel and Sebastian are indeed master and servant, child and adult. Though surely very rare, child-employers with adult-employees might exist in our world. What makes O!Ciel and Sebastian’s relationship unique is by no means limited to this ‘subversion’ of child-adult dynamic. Let us unpack this master-servant bond category by category, layer by layer.

1. Child vs Adult – Age Dynamic

A unique characteristic of O!Ciel and Sebastian’s relationship is how they do not behave like any child vs adult would. Sebas treats O!Ciel like a child, but he does not see his master as a child. And by ‘child’, I mean more specifically ‘a less-than-adult’ person. To Sebastian who is centuries old, a human who is 13 is as inexperienced and foolish as a 30 or 60 year old human. Instead, it seems like Sebas treats O!Ciel like a child only because it gets on his master’s nerves and it is entertaining.

We must remember that humans are cattle to Sebas, and that O!Ciel is no exception. For analogy’s sake, let us imagine a pig. Humans usually don’t have a higher regard or respect for adult pigs than they have for piglets. We don’t take adult pigs more seriously than we do piglets.

2. Master vs Servant – Power Dynamic

The most unique part in O!Ciel and Sebas’ relationship is not that a child is the employer of an adult, omnipotent demon. The uniqueness is in the detail that this specific employer has absolute command over Sebastian, and can even use the demon’s powers against him at will. We see in the Werewolf Arc for example, how O!Ciel has practically already broken his end of the contract. Sebastian was in full right to claim his payment for his service and return home. But since the contract was technically not over yet, O!Ciel stopped the demon from exerting his right with just one simple phrase: “it’s an order.”

Sebastian may seem all-powerful, but if O!Ciel wishes to make Sebas do something against his will, O!Ciel merely needs to use the binding magical term “it’s an order”. This binding term is so powerful it can infringe all of Sebastian’s personal autonomy, and it would be ““legal””. What if Sebas doesn’t want to be touched? “It’s an order, let person X touch you and get away without harm.” What if Sebas doesn’t want to expose himself to lethal danger? “It’s an order, do it anyway.”

This is the reason why SebaCiel could never work (even if O!Ciel were an adult!), simply because the power balance is inherently tipped way too much to O!Ciel’s side. A romantic and/or sexual relationship cannot work as long as the power balance is off, and true consent cannot be given on all sides. Consent that can be coerced, or cannot be withdrawn freely, is not true consent, after all.

3. Master vs Servant - Bickering

There is a lot of back-and-forth bickering between O!Ciel and Sebastian, which is very uncharacteristic of employer-employee relationships (No way I’m going to bicker against my boss!) Sometimes the bickering is light-hearted and comical, and I surmise this is part of the reason people might have the illusion that their power-dynamic is not completely off (as described above).

This light-hearted bickering is a great appeal, and it makes the master not behave like a full master, and the servant not like a full servant. On surface their contract bears semblance to a friendly relationship wherein both parties also fulfil their respective roles in this employment. This is a powerful ingredient in their usually fantastic cooperation during their missions! O!Ciel allows Sebas some freedom (when he sees fit), while Sebas returns this ‘kind gesture’ with helpful initiatives (when he sees fit). I dare say that many if not most ‘Kuroshitsuji’ fans are here exactly for this reason. Regardless of how fantastic this cooperation might be however, at core their relationship is still ‘employment’.

On the darker side however, this bickering is also one of the fruits born from insidious manipulation. In this post I discussed how Sebastian stretches his arms and legs as WIDELY as possible within his tiny constraints. To a certain extent, O!Ciel turns a blind eye (pun not intended) to it. Why though?

Of course O!Ciel is not a complete tyrant towards Sebastian, but this is the result that Sebastian managed to fight and win for himself. All the way back in chapter 138 Sebas didn’t even know O!Ciel yet, and yet he already made very clear that:

He should not try to exert too much control over him

That if he does try to do so, he should be careful with words

That if he is not careful, Sebas will take any opportunity to punish him for careless word-choice

In this small incident O!Ciel learned that if his demon misbehaves, he’d have himself to blame. THIS is the silent lesson Sebas instilled into the boy; that if Sebas mistreats O!Ciel, it is not Sebas who crossed boundaries, but that O!Ciel didn’t set the boundaries right. “O!Ciel had it coming”. This lesson taught by Sebas leans dangerously close to – if not downright within – the category of victim-blaming. (Sebas you trashy Trash Demon™, I love you.)

3.1. Circus Arc

So far in the manga, the most obvious example of this victim-blaming dynamic is the incident with the snakes in the Circus Arc. Sebas very clearly reminded O!Ciel that he is not above allowing his master to get hurt semi-mortally. O!Ciel was seething when he found out, and justly so. But did Sebas show any remorse? Of course not. Instead he blamed O!Ciel for:

Not being careful enough with his commands

Being too boring to see the ‘fun’ in this game

3.2. Jack the Ripper Arc

Far more dramatically, this same victim-blaming dynamic can found in the Jack the Ripper Arc, and this one arguably even dictated how O!Ciel is going to become as a person.

In the Ripper Arc Sebas also obeyed O!Ciel’s order to the T. But that’s it; only to the T and nothing more. Because the demon deliberately withheld information from his master necessary for the investigation, more victims fell while the case was still in O!Ciel’s hands. Who gets the blame? Jack the Ripper obviously. But who is made to bear the guilt? O!Ciel is; through the victim-blaming Sebastian made him internalise.

O!Ciel is still O!Ciel, so he probably didn’t really lose any sleep over the deaths of 5 people. But had he not been him, then surely this guilt would have been mind-crippling. However, we need to bear in mind that O!Ciel was not unaffected; had Sebas not withheld information, then O!Ciel would have stopped the murders earlier, and presented a scapegoat to the Queen. Let’s be fair, had Madam been arrested then she’d still be awaiting capital punishment. But as the Watchdog, O!Ciel pulls some strings. He would have tried VERY hard not to lose his aunt too.

As it is however, the enormous guilt about the death of his own aunt is what Sebas made O!Ciel suffer through slow and insidious manipulation. Sebas never gave O!Ciel the time to mourn his aunt, and instead pressured the boy into admitting that he ‘callously sacrificed Madam as a pawn’. He made him mentally TAKE the blame for the murder that Grell committed, and Sebas could have helped prevent.

As we can see in chapter 13, O!Ciel was desperately trying to externalise the blame, coming up with excuse after excuse, justification after justification. None however, works. Good seasoning skills, Sebas, amazing food-prep.

I am fairly certain that O!Ciel doesn’t even realise how much he’s being emotionally manipulated by his butler throughout the years. This insight about emotional manipulation and psychological abuse is something that requires a level of abstract comprehension we cannot expect from most people, let alone a 13 year old child (however smart they may be.)

4. Conclusion

In conclusion, both Sebas and O!Ciel exist in this relationship rather amicably on surface level, but they are inherently toxic to each other. Sebas is continuously manipulating and emotionally abusing O!Ciel, while O!Ciel holds the absolute power to infringe all of Sebastian’s autonomy.

This ⇊ illustration by Yana is the perfect symbolisation of their bond.

We can attach adjectives like “f*cking toxic” and “fascinating” to this relationship, but we can’t find a category of inter-human relationship to fit O!Ciel and Sebastian into. In real life there are no children who can wield magical command to strip someone entirely of their autonomy. Likewise, there are very few adults who would not consider a child as ‘less-than-adult’. Should we try to shoe-horn O!Ciel and Sebas into a human category, then we risk over-simplifying this relationship. Over-simplification of this relationship can be very harmful, because the subverted formula of “child-master and adult-servant” SEEMS to compensate for the inherent power imbalance.

Yana however, managed to write this relationship SO brilliantly complex, that Sebas will always remain the servant who is at O!Ciel’s mercy, while O!Ciel suffers continuous mental abuse despite holding the ultimate ace card against a demon. This complex relationship is the ultimate evidence that even the most toxic relationships can look functional on surface level, and I love hating it!

I hope this helps give some insight!

[keldae]

New Beginnings

Sorand had known for most of his life that he had never completely been a child of the Empire. Sure, he'd been born as a citizen in Imperial Space, along with his brother, and he'd known his father was also Imperial by birth. But his mother, the Corellian Jedi who had hidden her Jedi training and come to Imperial Space with her husband… she had never become a citizen herself, a secret she’d held until her death. And he knew now that his parents' plan had been to take their sons and escape to the Core Worlds before Sith Academy recruiters came snooping for young prospects.

And then his mother had been murdered only days before their planned flight, and life had gone to hell, and Sorand still wound up on Korriban after all. He had still looked for a way to escape to the Republic once he was free of a slave's chains -- first as an apprentice under Darth Zash, and then as a Lord while trying to survive Darth Thanaton’s schemes. But with a Dashade constantly looming nearby, and Imperial eyes always watching, and both Zash and Thanaton tracking him too closely for him to slip away… besides, would the Jedi have believed his claim to be the son of one of their own, even if he had been able to defect? Ashara's first masters on Taris certainly hadn't been willing to talk to him. Honestly, until he had met his sister, Ashara had been the only Jedi willing to hear him out, seeing beyond the black robes and red lightsaber.

And then the odds of a Dark Councillor being able to defect after he’d been abruptly elevated by Darth Marr… less said about that, the better. But at least by then he'd found his father, and the Empire was more bearable with Reanden there. Knowing that his brother and sister were both safely in Republic territory helped, even if he was envious of his siblings for being free of the Empire.

When he had slipped away from Dromund Kaas to join the fledgling rebellion against the Eternal Throne, he hadn't been thinking of any possible citizenships, or really, anything beyond a desperate attempt to rid the galaxy of Zakuul. He hadn't been surprised to hear that Acina had been furious enough to rescind his Imperial citizenship and his title as a Darth. But he had a place in the Mandalorian clans with Shara, and then a purpose in helping free his sister and backing up her efforts to fight Arcann and Vaylin. After Valkorion's destruction, he had joined the rest of the members of the Alliance in asking "Now what?" 

Of course, he hadn't had time to think about that, between the uprisings across the galaxy and the Iokath debacle. At least being Xaja's stand-in to run the Alliance while she had been first pregnant, and then too distraught by Theron’s dumbassery to function, had kept him busy, even if he had started finding a worrying amount of grey strands in his dark hair after Umbara happened and Theron staged that (stupid, idiotic, dumbass, shittily-planned, plain moronic) betrayal. 

Ossus was the first time that he had properly been able to work with Republic forces. Tau Idair had given him some serious side-eye when she heard the Imperial accent that still lingered in his voice, and Nadia Grell had eyed him with no small amount of caution; but Doc had remembered him from the Revanite incident and greeted him as a friend, and Master Gnost-Dural had cautiously accepted him after Xaja vouched for him. From the looks the other Jedi and the colonists gave him, he figured he wasn’t going to be accepted readily, despite being the Hero of Tython’s brother, and quietly resigned himself to the suspicious stares and mutters. At least one good thing had come out of his duel with Darth Malgus in the ancient library: despite getting his ass handed to him and nearly being killed by the Sith, he seemed to have earned the respect of other Jedi and the colonists for standing with Gnost-Dural.

But even after that, and with the resurgence of the conflict over Onderon and Mek-Sha, he had never dared to let himself hope that he would be permanently free of the Empire. Now that he was in the heart of the Republic fleet, surrounded by other members of the Odessen crew and Republic personnel, the new (and perfectly legitimate) identicard that labeled him a Republic citizen still didn't seem real. He subtly pinched his arm, just to confirm this wasn't a dream.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Reanden offered his youngest son a smirk, leaning back against a table in Carrick Station's cantina with a tumbler of Corellian whiskey, looking as comfortable as if he had always been a Republic citizen, not an Imperial one. While Sorand knew his father had been a deep cover SIS operative for longer than he or his siblings had been alive, he was pretty sure this was the first time Cipher Nine had been able to openly relax in Republic Space.

"I never thought it would actually happen," Sorand murmured, still staring at the identicard. A former member of the Dark Council, one who was still known as Darth Imperius to more than a few Imperial soldiers and citizens, holding proof of his new Republic citizenship… Darth Zash and Darth Thanaton would both be turning in their graves at his new status. That thought pleased him almost as much as what his mother's reaction would have been. He looked at his father and gave him a small, melancholic smile. "Mum would be so thrilled if she could see this."

Reanden's dark eyes softened for a moment. "This was the endgame she and I had planned, getting the lot of us back home where we'd wanted you to be. Took the long route getting there, but we got here eventually." For a moment, his contentment vanished behind a scowl. "And just in time for me to be informed that I'm being retired from active field work and getting put to work in training cadets. In case you ever meet him -- the Director’s a dick."

"Aww, I'm sure there's plenty of miscreant cadet spies who need to get whipped into shape. Besides, knowing you, you’ll get bored enough to make him send you back out on missions." Sorand grinned and nudged his father's arm, earning an incoherent mutter and an eyeroll over the whiskey. He then looked at Shara on his other side, contemplatively sipping on an ale. "How are you feeling about this, cyar'ika?"

"It still hasn’t sunk in yet. Never thought I’d be offered Republic citizenship -- I almost wonder if that old Chancellor might’a put in a good word for me or somethin’." Shara shrugged and offered a small half-smile. "Never woulda thought Mandalore would be takin’ up with the Republic either. Weird how life works out -- but I think it’ll all turn out fine." She glanced at a small cluster of station personnel, all eyeing the former Imperials cautiously. "Once that lot all gets over hearin' Mando'a an' Kaasian accents, anyway. Odessen used to be almost half ex-Imp, so there’ll be lotsa Imp accents kickin’ around for a while."

"Trying to change accents is a pain in the ass,” Sorand said with a short laugh, with a passable accent that wouldn’t have been out of place in Hutt Space. Force knew he’d had years of practice in listening to and mimicking Hutt Space accents as a youth. "It’s a work in progre-- oh, hello, Master." He inclined his head to Gnost-Dural, who was just making his way up to the group. 

"Ah, just the former Sith I was looking for." Gnost-Dural nodded. It was hard to tell with the mask, but if the warmth in the Force was any indication, Sorand was pretty sure the old Jedi was smiling. "I was hoping I could steal you for a moment, Impe-- Sorand."

"Of course." Slipping his precious new identicard back in his pocket, Sorand followed the Kel Dor a few paces away to a quiet alcove. The flickerings in the Force gave him no indication of what the Jedi was thinking. "What can I do for you?"

"Less a favour, more a proposition for you. One that your sister might have asked of you if--"

They both heard the muffled shriek of "Kira!" from the upper ring around the cantina, and Sorand could feel a burst of relieved joy from Xaja, accompanied by hurried footsteps as she ran to greet her former protégé, dignity be damned by the sounds of it.

"... If her former Padawan and the former Wrath hadn't just walked up." Gnost-Dural chuckled. "She'll be occupied for a while."

Sorand grinned, glancing up in the direction of Xaja's bright Force-signature, then back to Gnost-Dural. "And she's already the happiest I've seen her in years. Being back in the Republic is good for her."

"The Republic is fortunate to have her back," Gnost-Dural agreed. "But how are you feeling with this change? It's certainly not the Empire."

"Definitely not," Sorand nodded. He hesitated for a moment. "Force knows I wish I’d been able to leave the Empire far sooner. If I had had my way, I would have defected on my own years ago. Being a Sith was… a survival mechanism, and by the time I was elevated to a Darth…" He shrugged. "I honestly figured the Republic would have no place for a former Dark Council member, if they didn’t just shoot me on sight."

"You are far from the first high-ranking Sith to turn their back on the Empire," Gnost-Dural assured him. "Your sister had the Wrath leave with her, after all."

"Yes, but Scourge never really swore himself to the Republic," Sorand pointed out. "He was more focused on taking down Vitiate than in helping defeat the Empire entirely."

"Not untrue. But you…" Gnost-Dural seemed to be looking him up and down. "Every dossier I ever found about you showed you trying to change the Empire from within, or trying to aid Republic operatives when the opportunity presented itself. It is a pity we couldn't open a path for you to come to us before now." He sighed. "But, this is one positive that came about from the changes we've endured over the last few years, ever since the Zakuulan invasion. It's been easier for people like you to slip away in the chaos, whether to the Republic or to the Alliance."

Sorand nodded his agreement, his hand brushing over the pocket of his nondescript jacket where his identicard rested. "After everything that's happened, it feels surreal that this is finally happening. I still feel like I'm going to wake up any moment now."

Gnost-Dural chuckled, then seemed to grow more serious. "What are your plans, now that Odessen is a member world of the Republic?"

"My wife and I haven't discussed it much yet," Sorand admitted. "With Mandalore signing on with the Republic as well, Shara's thinking of contracting out her hunting skills. There were a lot of families that were split up during Zakuul's invasion, and the SIS can't find everyone."

Gnost-Dural nodded. "And yourself?"

"I'm not sure." Sorand shrugged. "I'm pretty sure Xaja will still want me around as her deputy, at least until Odessen has a finalized government beyond being a military outpost." He frowned slightly. "Although I dearly hope she's not planning on asking me to be the Senate representative."

That got a chuckle from the old Jedi. "You really are like your sister. She has never been fond of politics either." He paused for a moment. "I may have a proposition for you, one that should hopefully give you an 'out' from being a Senator."

"What is that?"

Gnost-Dural shifted to cross his hands behind his back, comfortably at ease. "The Jedi Order has a long road back to recovery, as you know. Your sister accepted a role on the newly reforming Jedi Council, but we do need all the help we can get. You would be a great asset. I would like to formally offer you a place in the reforming Jedi Order."

Sorand had spent years learning to hide his emotions, masking his reactions and thoughts to everyone around him during his years as a Sith. And every bit of those honed instincts abandoned him right then, eyes widening, mouth falling open for a second before he recovered. "A place in the… you're serious?"

"Dead serious. Your knowledge of the Sith is helpful, but your power with the Force; your skill with healing; and your knowledge of the history of both Jedi and Sith is a rare and valuable asset." Gnost-Dural nodded. "You wouldn't be a Master to start, of course -- you would start as a Padawan. But I don't see you staying in that rank for long." He chuckled. "And you're far from the oldest recruit to join our ranks."

A Jedi… even in his wildest, most deeply secret dreams of defection, Sorand had never dared to truly let himself imagine being offered a place in the Order's ranks. Even if he was restarting as a Padawan, this was already a dream he had never dared to hope for. "I don't know what to say. I'm… I'm incredibly honoured," he breathed out, then hesitated. "... I am married with a family, though, and my first commitment is to them. Will that be a concern?"

"A decade ago, perhaps. But I think the Jedi are evolving with the galaxy -- some things do change. Besides, your sister is also rejoining us with a husband and a child. It would be rather hypocritical for her to keep her family, and to ask you to give up your own. I understand you're both Corellian as well -- it is the tradition of the Green Jedi to have families." 

"It is," Sorand acknowledged, inwardly trying to control his sheer excitement at being extended this offer. "Who would be my Master?"

Gnost-Dural chuckled again. "Well, if you're content with having an old man as your Master, I think it's time I took on a new Padawan myself. And after fighting against Malgus with you on Ossus, I would be pleased to have you at my back. You're a good man, despite what the Sith tried to turn you into."

"I had a good teacher as a child," Sorand murmured, thinking back to the lessons his mother had taught him… the lessons that had kept him sane and attuned to the Light, even in the darkest parts of the Empire. Even looking past his excitement, he could feel the Force all but pushing him to accept the offer. He swore he could feel his mother's spirit proudly beaming at him. "I… I'm honoured to accept. I can think of no better teacher."

He was sure Gnost-Dural was smiling under his mask. "The honour is mine, Padawan. The Jedi are fortunate to have both your sister and you." The old Jedi reached out to clasp his new student's shoulder, then stepped back. "Take the evening to relax and enjoy your new citizenship. We'll begin your training tomorrow."

"Thank you, Master." The phrase that he had absolutely loathed during his years as a slave, and his tutelage under Zash, felt comfortable and easy here, when directed to a Jedi. He managed to keep his elation somewhat tempered down until after Gnost-Dural took his leave… and then let the broad, excited grin take over as he made his way back to his father and his wife.

Reanden raised an eyebrow as his younger son rejoined them. "Well, you look particularly gleeful, buddy. What's up?"

Sorand felt his grin lessen slightly as he wondered how the news of his new status would be taken. "Well…" he slowly said, "of all the titles I've had or planned to have… I never expected 'Padawan' to be on that list."

Reanden's eyes widened. "Padawan, is it?" Then he looked over at Shara and grinned as he held his hand out. "I win. Pay up, kiddo."

“Wait.” Sorand blinked. “Did you two have a bet going for what that chat was going to be about?”

"Totally thought it was gonna be Alliance osik," Shara ruefully said with a smirk as she pulled a few credits out of her pocket and handed them to her father-in-law, then looked at Sorand. "The Jedi know we're a package deal, right?"

"Yes. Apparently that's going to be a little less of an issue in the new Order." Sorand grinned and hugged Shara across the shoulders, kissing her forehead. "You're still stuck with me, cyar'ika… just with much less ambient lightning."

Shara laughed and stretched up to kiss his cheek. "Long as you ain't replacing that with jetiise preachy osik, we're good. I can't wait to see your brother's face when he gets the news."

Oh, Korin's reaction was going to be hilarious, Sorand knew… even if he was pretty sure Theron was trying to push the spacer in the general direction of the SIS. But that was something to think about later. Right now, it was an evening to celebrate. The Empire reeling from a successful Republic blow; a new citizenship and a place in the ranks of the Jedi; and the knowledge that he would never, ever need to return to the Empire…

Yes, he thought, smiling as he waved his brother over to tell the news to. Life was the best it had been in years.

[rinaxtaros]

[ᴏs] 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧

sʏɴᴏᴘsɪs: reader is a death-witch that has forseen her own death, luckily, the undertaker is by her side to help her cheat her way out of death to be by his side for the rest of time

Being a death witch is both a cursing and blessing. The blessing is that you can easily foresee someone’s death which can come at a price (for those) which means you make a living out of telling those with health issues how many days they have left but the curse is, you can see those you love die and yourself.

Coming across the Undertaker was easily one of your best days and being unable to see his death was one of your favourite things to happen. As he is a Shinigami and technically has no cinematic record, you can’t see his death if it were to ever come. Not only that but you can express your fascination with death with him as both of your ‘jobs’ fall in that department.

One morning, though, you awoke because of a terrifying dream. Your own death. At first you thought it was a nightmare but the fact it kept repeating in your head like a record reel it hit you like a ton of bricks. You told Adrian of course, he deserves to know. But you kept the details of how you die to yourself.

“There’s nothing we can do to stop it, I’m afraid” Adrian sighs rather sadly, his tone no longer laced in its happy-go-lucky tone. A sad smile spreads across your face as your hand grasps his own. His finger nails used to make you flinch, scared they’d cut you but you almost laugh to yourself now as you think about it.

“I wish to spend my last few days with you, Addy, if you’d allow me” The shy blush that licks at your cheeks is nothing short of unusual. Usually you’d have no problem asking him for some time but because of the situation at hand, it feels almost..selfish? The sadness that tugs at your heart feels foreign. You didn’t even know you cared for your own life that much..

After a few days of spending quality time with the Undertake you came to the conclusion that you didn’t care about your life, you cared about him. Adrian Crevan. You know for a fact he likes to pretend that he doesn’t have feelings (besides happiness) and that he doesn’t care for much besides his work but you know that’s not true. It may be selfish to admit but your death will break him.

You know that for a fact when you caught him crying the other night, pretending he was wiping away his hairs that pricked him in the eyes while working.

“Adrian”

“Yes, dearie?” His usual cheery voice replies. Today was the night before your..death and it has been playing on your mind all day.

“Promise me that when I’m .. gone. That you won’t stop being yourself” You look at him, watching as he leans over his client, makeup in hand. He nods stiffly, choosing not to talk.

“I mean it Adrian, don’t stop being your usual cheery self. Don’t shut anyone out whether it be the young lord, Sebastian or even Grell - don’t let it get to you” You downcast your eyes to watch your fiddling fingers. Your heart is beating loudly at this point, the pounding sound filling your ears.

You don’t notice as he slowly makes his way over, placing a gentle hand on your knee.

“How am I meant to just forget you, love” He sighs. You frown “Think of me as just another client”

Adrian scoffs “But you aren’t” He spits.

A sad smile crosses your face as you lift your head to look at him. He staring at you through the mop he calls his hair, his lips pursed into a straight line.

Before you can stop yourself you’re reaching to him, fingers carding it through his hair and pushing it out of his eyes. He doesn’t stop you, his green orbs wavering in the sudden light.

“I don’t want to think about this for much longer” You sigh and stare at his emerald eyes “Why don’t we celebrate it? We both work in death and I’ve been waiting hundreds of years for this moment to come” Adrian nods as his usual smile creeps back onto his face.

“Okay”

The night is filled with laughter and reminiscing. You couldn’t be happier as you sit at the kitchen table with him, your glasses half full with the wine he had scavenged from deep in his cupboards. He’s hiccuping as he sips at his cup, a flush dusting his pale cheeks.

“Why don’t we get to bed, Addie?” You hum, standing up and pushing your cup away his arms reach. He’s been flinging himself around and it honestly felt like your heart was going to lurch out of your chest from the amount of times he fell out of his seat.

He speaks incoherently, mumbling about different things. You barely pick out the names but you know he’s talking about the reapers and demon. You laugh lightly as he allows you to pull him from his seat, his robes becoming a blanket as he wraps him arms around you.

You just want him in bed, out of the way so that you can die peacefully and he doesn’t have to see the scene. Luckily he is compliant and it doesn’t take long for him to be knocked out in his bed.

“I’ll be back, alright?” He nods and you feel awful for lying. You won’t be back.

Even as you wait on the oncoming attack every second spent thinking about it makes you want to avoid it. You don’t want to leave Adrian but the thought of never seeing his face again is eating away at you.

Any minute now, the door was shoot open and you won’t be dead. A man with a gun is meant to come and shoot you mercilessly as he goes on with his killing streak.

He’s a cold blooded murderer and you’re one of his victims. Granted, it’s now how you wished to die but it is how it is. At least it will be fast and easy.

The seconds tik by and you swear that in your reoccurring visions he appears just as the sun sets. The room is exactly how it was in your vision. Why isn’t he here yet?

He seems to answer your question with a rough boot to the door. He looks scared. This isn’t how he looks in your vision. He’s meant to look crazed!

His fingers tremble with his gun as he gaze lands on you. His fingers barely grasp the trigger before he’s thrown back by the all familiar figure.

Oh God.

“Sebastian! Unhand him!” You shout, not even thinking about Adrian who’s sleeping in the back of the shop. Sebastian hums, his hand twisting back the gunner who’s laying painfully on the floor.

“No can do, my master ordered me to follow this man” He tuts “I saved your life, shouldn’t you be thankful?”

The colour drains from your face “I am meant to die! Don’t you understand that if I don’t die the way the God’s intended I will be punished?” Your hands grip at your hair. You’ve waited years for this day to come and it’s stripped away by a brat who doesn’t know better? Why couldn’t they let him have one last murder?

“I am sorry, (y/n), but my masters orders are absolute” He finally snaps the mans arm who screams in agony. You glare at the tall demon who barely glances down at you.

“Your master doesn’t know anything about the ways of the Underworld, does he?”

“Please go back inside, Miss. It would be ill-mannered of me to not tell you so” Sebastian does his signature closed eye smile. Your blood boils as you look at him.

“I guess I’ll just have to ki-“

“Dearie, what is going on?” You freeze as Adrians voice fills your ears. As you turn around you see him standing at the shop entrance, rubbing his eyes to get rid of the sleep.

“Nothing Addie, please go back to bed”

“She’s tempered because I have messed with her ‘death’” Sebastian rats you out, now holding the unconscious man.

He flicks out his pocket watch and sighs “If you may excuse me I must be going”

You nod and turn around, ready to face Adrian.

“Was that man meant to kill you?” He asks and you walk past him. You nod and plop yourself on the top of a coffin.

“The Gods will be unhappy that I’m not dead as they planned and I’m sure that the reapers are going to be angry that they’re missing a soul”

Adrians face sours “They’ll kill you”

You nod “I’ll have to take matters into my own hands, before the Gods find out”

Adrian looks sad, knowing what your inferring.

“There has to be another way!”

“There is no other way. If I offer my soul by doing this I won’t have to endure the lifelong torture they have in stock for me”

“I can’t believe my dragged me here” You scoff, folding your arms across your chest as you stare at the Phantomhive doors. You were surprised that Sebastian hasn’t killed Adrian after the Atlantic scenario.

Adrian knocks on the door firmly, his hand still wrapped around your wrist. You sigh and loosen your posture, feeling the wind play with your dress.

The door opens slowly as Sebastian creeks his head out the gap, surprise lighting in his eyes.

“Oh, hello” he greets “My master is retiring for the night, please come back in the morning” He smiles politely, closing the door and turning away. Adrian sighs and jams his foot in the door, stopping it from closing completely.

“I want you to turn (y/n) into a demon” He commands as he thrusts your body foreword. You gasp as your eyes widen “Adrian!”

“This is the only other way, I know you don’t want to die and if you’re a demon the God’s can punish you” He speaks determinedly. Sebastian opens the door once again as a playful smile graces his mouth.

“You do know what the requires, don’t you?” Sebastian steps the side and allows you to step in. You nod as you stand beside Adrian, fixing your hand to be holding his. Both males stare at each other briefly, as if they were communicating telepathically.

“Very well, although I must assure you this will take a while”

You smile sadly as you nod softly.

“Are you sure you want to do this, (y/n)?” Sebastian asks as he removes his gloves, eyes flickering to yours.

You nod, a fire of rebellion being lit inside of you.

“I’m fine with it as long as I can still be with the Undertaker”

Sebastian laughs lightly and runs a hand through his hair “Young love, or should I say old?” He chuckles to himself “I will enjoy this”

[medea10]

My Review of Sarazanmai

How did I get into this anime? I heard “things” about this anime. 2019 was a weird time to be alive apparently. You know, before 2020 happened! As much shit as I give 2020, at least they didn’t give us kappas eating people’s asses.

Yes, I just said “kappas eating people’s asses”.

Be afraid. Be very afraid!

Kazuki Yasaka is a young boy who must carry around a box wherever he goes and follow specific directions day-by-day. Toi Kuji is a delinquent that breaks into cars and commits other crimes throughout the city. And Enta Jinnai is a childhood friend of Kazuki…He’s there too! These three boys have been chosen by the kappa prince, Keppi to help restore the Kappa Kingdom to its former glory. Kazuki, Toi, and Enta can now transform into kappas by being eaten ass first by Keppi and then shit out. Yes, I said eaten ass first and shit out by a kappa! These boys then must eat the inner-most desires of these kappa-zombies that are causing Keppi trouble. And these inner-most desires are located…in the ass. But there are those from the Otter Empire that cause this trouble for the kappas by turning folks into kappa zombies and causing havoc in the real world.

I would not expect any less of a mind-rape anime from the great Kunihiko Ikuhara.

BETWEEN THE SUB AND THE DUB: Even playing a kappa, Junichi Suwabe still finds a way to give me an erection.

Okay, let’s try that again and not make it sound disgusting, Medea.

Right! Let’s talk licensing. FUNimation is the licensors of this fine product. Seriously? Eating ass is fine, but you frown upon the likes of Interspecies Reviewers? Yes, there is a dub to this and believe it or not, I pretended it didn’t exist. Not because it was bad or anything! It’s just that this anime had the likes of Mamoru Miyano, Kouki Uchiyama, Rie Kugimiya, and Mr. Sex-in-a-Voice Junichi Suwabe. Let me state that my infatuation with Suwabe is like John Oliver’s infatuation with Adam Driver.

That…totally doesn’t help my case! Here’s what you might recognize these folks from.

JAPANESE CAST: *Kazuki is played by Ayumu Murase (known for Minami on Yuri on Ice, Luck on Black Clover, Asuto on Inazuma Eleven: Aries, Madoka on Shounen Maid, and Shinichi on SAO)

*Toi is played by Kouki Uchiyama (known for Yurio on Yuri on Ice, Soul on Soul Eater, Rui on Demon Slayer, Ikuya on Free!, Benedict on Violet Evergarden, Midnight on Fairy Tail, Yuu on Charlotte, and Ichijou on Nisekoi)

*Enta is played by Shun Horie (known for Kazuya on Rent-A-Girlfriend)

ENGLISH CAST: *Kazuki is played by Alejandro Saab (known for Leon on Pokemon Journeys, L’Arc on Shield Hero, Kuga on Food Wars, Yamazaki on Cardcaptor Sakura: Clear Card, and Takezou on Kono Oto Tomare)

*Toi is played by Ricco Fajardo (known for Koutaro on Zombieland Saga, Itona on Assassination Classroom, Karim on Fire Force, Natsuya on Free!, and Kyousuke on Danganronpa 3)

*Enta is played by Justin Briner (known for Deku on My Hero Academia, Yukito on Cardcaptor Sakura: Clear Card, Shou on Fire Force, Luck on Black Clover, and Ryouta on Danganronpa 3)

SHIPPING: Well…we got our BL kiss by the third episode. That’s quite early for an Ikuhara anime. Ooh boy, Enta loves him some Kazuki. He REALLY loves Kazuki! There’s a lot to be said of a boy that would sniff and fondle items owned by his lover and kiss his unconscious lover. I can understand why Enta would care for Kazuki. I mean after hearing that he’s truly his first friend after a childhood of traveling around and not making many friends, you want to feel for this kid. Key word here is “want”. But this boy goes too far sometimes and his jealousy does get the best of him to a point where I’m just saying, cut ties with the megane brat. But Enta ends up screwing things up again by taking a bullet for Kazuki and throwing all that anger out the window.

And then we have Reo and Mabu! God damn Reo! We’ve got shark teeth, an arrogant attitude, homosexuality, and the voice of Mamoru Miyano. This is just a Rin Matsuoka of a different color! If Reo and Mabu’s otter dance isn’t a dead giveaway, they totally love each other. To a point where they would sacrifice each other for the one they love.

POLE-DANCE ALERT: I don’t know why I always find random pole-dancing moments in animes so alluring. I guess I can blame the likes of Grell from Black Butler. But this moment was so random that it came right the fuck out of nowhere. Then again, this entire anime is an enigmatic brain-fart that it was only a matter of time before a kappa prince starts randomly dancing on a pole.

There we go, Medea’s love for random crap will never die!

ENDING: Throughout the series, Kazuki, Toi, and Enta were gathering these dishes in order to get a wish granted by Keppi. And each time they’ve gone up against a big bad otter, Reo and Mabu are usually the ones to bring out the kappa zombies. But everyone has a plan for using the dishes of hope for their own wishes. Enta wants to use it to stay with Kazuki so the two can remain the golden duo. Reo and Mabu want the dishes to be with each other and save one another after an incident nearly killed them. And Kazuki originally wanted to use the dishes for his baby brother’s own sake, but changes to wanting to help Toi (who ends up leaving with his older, criminal of a brother). And shit goes crazier than what I’ve just mentioned. Enta fucks up by stealing the collected dishes and really fucking up his relationship with Kazuki! Toi ends up leaving town with his criminal brother.

Reo and Mabu, the otter cops shoot Kazuki, but Enta takes the bullet and is hours away from dying. But then we learn that Reo and Mabu were actually kappas who worked under Keppi. It’s just that the otters have been manipulating these two. Mabu is just a hollow body created by the otters because of some accident that happened prior to the events in the anime. The otter gives Mabu a mechanical heart to keep him alive, but in order to stay alive, he cannot say he loves Reo. Unfortunately for these two, Mabu ends up saying he loves Reo and dies right in front of him and vanishing from his memories. Reo is then shot by Toi who comes in at the last minute.

Toi’s back. We all knew it wasn’t going to last. His older brother got shot dead the episode before. So Toi is going to use the dishes to resurrect his brother from the dead. This leaves Kazuki in shambles as he was going to use it on Enta before his body expires in like 10 seconds. In the last minute, Kazuki used the dishes on Enta and he’s going to live. End of story right? No, we still have a demented otter on the loose. And the otters have a dark Keppi that he’s been storing for just this sort of moment. And now it grabs Toi and Toi accepts. He wants to erase his existence from Enta and Kazuki’s lives. Problem is if he does that, Toi erases giving Kazuki the ankle bracelet that’s been a staple in Kazuki and Enta’s relationship when it comes to soccer. But the boys were able to connect, destroy the otters, bring the memories of Mabu and Reo back, turn Keppi into a kappa prince, and save the town from OTTER-destruction.

Yeah, if you watch this series, you’ll hear a lot of puns involving otters. I mean when you’re not smothered in sexualized otters and kappas.

The ending credits show Toi getting sent to juvie for three years. And it’s quite sad to see his dejected face while the ending song blasts. When the lyrics literally say “stand by me” it gets quite sad. Three years pass and Toi’s out of juvie. He goes to the bridge and jumps off. Keep in mind this is an Ikuhara anime, Toi’s not gonna die. Enta and Kazuki jump in and join Toi and welcome him back to society.

Good lord Ikuhara-san! I didn’t think you could out-gay an anime after the likes of Yuri Kuma Arashi. But good fuck, you found a way! This anime was…INSANITY. Pure insanity! Then again, this is the same director that did Revolutionary Girl Utena, Yuri Kuma Arashi, and Mawaru Penguindrum. Yes, connection and desires are a big take in not only Sarazanmai, but a lot of the other animes Ikuhara does. It’s just that Sarazanmai is the strangest acid-trip of them all. And that’s saying a lot because Yuri Kuma Arashi has sexy bears that say “Shaba-da-doo”. ALSO VOICED BY JUNICHI SUWABE! But people getting turned into kappas by being eaten ass first by another kappa and stealing spirits inner most desires, conveniently stored in their asses is some wonky-ass crack-fest. Recommendation wise, I would say watch some of the other animes Ikuhara has directed to get your feet wet in what you might expect in this kind of anime. After that, pop in a few Bakemonogatari episodes just for good measure. And after you do all that, take some CBD gummies and let-a-rip with Sarazanmai.

If you want to watch Sarazanmai, Crunchyroll and FUNimation have it available for streaming.

Okay, what’s next for my FUNimation list?

Okay, boobs! What are we talking here? Are these boobs flat as an ironing board or crimes against nature like in Eiken?

Oh, this can’t end well.

[undertaker1827]

JWJWNAKAAN PROMT 1 AND 4 WITH GRELL AND HER S/O ANS HER S/O JUST WATCHED GRELL REAP THEIR BEST FRIENDS SOUL AND GRELL SEES THEM WATCHING AND IS LIKE SHIT FORGOT TO SAY IM A REAPER!!1!1!1 I LOVE UR WRITING AND I KNOW YOULL DO GOOD WITH IT 💕💕 HOPE UR STAYING SAFE AND DRINKING PLENTY OF WATER

I am drinking plenty of water, I hope you are too! Thank you and I’m glad you enjoy my writing, and I’m so sorry this took me so long, I hope you didn’t think I’d forgotten you!!

Hope you all enjoy and have a look at my masterlist?

-

Today was going to be a good day. You had woken up early with the intent to get up and get out. It was summer, it was a rare occasion in which the sun was beaming down over London and it was overall the perfect day for your plans. More accurately the plans for you and you best friend. Today had been in the works for a long time, keeping you both sustained through cold days and times where the day had not been exactly right. You were going to meet each other at London Liverpool Street station, then grab the tube to the centre of the city. Breakfast was going to be somewhere along the banks of the Thames, probably sandwiches and a good, strong cup of coffee each. Then the day would truly begin. You were going to hit all of the major tourist destinations, despite having already been to many of them previously. You planned to visit some of the on location shoots of your favourite show, purely for the sake of taking pictures and being able to prove you had in fact been there. You were going Asian for lunch, though where more specifically you had not yet decided, and all out fancy for dinner. And if you didn’t get home until the early hours of the next morning, who was going to stop you? Especially given that your friend hadn’t been feeling so well recently. This was bound to list their spirits.

It was still early when you ran though droves of commuters at Liverpool Street, waving your travel coffee cup in greeting. Your friend lifted a hand in return, though even from a distance you could see they looked a bit pale.

“Hey, you alright?” you asked, a little breathless from having moved so quickly. They explained they had felt quite ill for the last few days, but absolutely rebutted your attempts at going home and postponing the day out. You had been planning it for too long, they said, and really, you were excited enough to agree. You were making your way along the South side of London’s great river, a quitter spot and certainly not on the average tourist information sheet, but it was very close to an on location shooting site. It was really just a case of finding the exact place…

“There!” You called out suddenly, briefly glancing over your shoulder to beckon your friend and then running full pelt, thrilled at your discovery. In your excitement, you failed to see your friend starting to lean heavily on a black fence, nor did you see them collapse to their knees and finally fall to the ground. Location confirmed, you turned to speak to your friend, only to find they were not there. Calling their name apparently did nothing either. Becoming increasingly concerned, you quickly retraced your steps, only to hear an achingly familiar voice speaking clearly from around the corner. A voice belonging to someone who claimed she was too busy with work to go out with you the Friday just passed. Your steps carried you forwards until you could see crimson flooding the now grey, drab street. So focused were you on the explosion of colour that you didn’t see what she was standing over.

“…August 1995, died July 18th, 2019 aged 24 years. Heart attack. No notes of interest.” With that you watched as your lover, your crimson Grell yanked a chainsaw out of the lifeless body of your best friend, having placed a stamp in a book and returned both to the pockets of her coat. “Apologies darling, you truly were so young. But there such is life, yes? Now I have to-“

“Grell?!” The scream ripped through your throat before you had time to second guess it. “What the hell have you done?!” Grell flew around to face you, coat flaring out to frame her body and hair whipping around her head, the bloody chainsaw held out to the side with a strength you hadn’t know she possessed. You were knelt on the ground by your best friend in seconds, holding their hand and whispering to them, illogically trying to get a response, any response. Focused as you were on their body, you hadn’t seen Grell’s eyes widen at the sound of your voice, nor had you noticed the shock passing over her features or the realisation adorning it not a moment later.

“I never told you...” Grell breathed, amazed by her own carelessness regarding someone she cared so much about.

“Never told me what?” You choked out, looking up through the mist coating you vision. “Never told me what?!” Grell’s typically concerned look faded to something much softer, uncharacteristic of her outside of home. A quiet, sad air passed over her.

“That I’m a reaper.” You felt sick. You felt so sick.

“You just murdered my best friend and now you’re trying to play games with my mind? What the hell!”

“Y/N...” Gasping for air that didn’t want to come, you tried to push back your nausea, tears running down your cheeks and shaking your head. “Please, I know it was careless of me I just never thought - look it’s a lot to take in, I understand. But please listen to me. Look! My To-Die list, dispatch give me a new one every day. Y/N look!” She was desperate, you could see that. But even as you took the leather bound note book and glanced over your friend’s entry, you absolutely refused. This was utter madness. You trusted Grell, you were supposed to be able to trust her!

You threw the book back at her, uncaring as to whether she caught it or not. But when you turned back to the body laying next to you, your fractured heart broke to see someone already moving them. Eyes widening, you shook your head frantically and stumbled to your feet clumsily following after a man dressed all in black. He had a hearse pulled over in a tiny backstreet opposite to where they had been killed and he appeared to be taking them to it. He had already laid them inside by the time you got there.

“W-wait, please,” you whispered, emotion overwhelming your voice as you all but pushed past the stranger. “That’s my friend. That’s-”

You had almost reached their shoulder as a hand closed around your wrist, gentle but firm and strikingly cold.

“Come away, now,” the man murmured quietly, sliver bangs covering most of his face but his mere presence somehow calming.

“Undertaker,” Grell warned from over your shoulder, grip on her weapon tightening. ‘Undertaker’ raised a placating hand, carefully extracting yours from his hearse and starting to lead you back to Grell. When you realised this, you dug your heels in almost immediately.

“No. Don’t, she’s a murderer, she killed them!” You pointed behind you, trying to get this man to understand what had happened. Only he saw Grell’s face fall into despair.

“She’s not.” You paused in your protestations, raising the wrist he was still holding between you. What? “What she told you is true, she’s a grim reaper. They harvest the souls of the dead, they do not actively kill them. I can only assume it never occurred to her that she should tell you.” You turned, looking from Grell to Undertaker and back again.

“Y/N it’s true, I swear it,” she murmured, expression pained.

“Did you never notice her eyes?” Grell frowned, and you both moved to face Undertaker. “You must have, surely.” You moved to run a hand through your hair.

“Of course I noticed, I just... I thought the thing about chartreuse phosphorescent eyes was just a legend. I never realised, I never knew it was real!” Undertaker nodded.

“Understandable. I will have to go now, though. A fresh stiff always attracts too much attention.” His hand raised to silence your words before you had a chance to say them. “You’ll be able to see them again, just not right away. I’ve got my own job to think about.”

You and Grell stood in silence as the hearse drove away. It took you a while, but you eventually mustered up the courage to turn around, grabbing her elbow to make her walk with you and then quickly dropping it again.

“Will you explain? Please?”

“Of course,” she whispered. “As both myself and Undertaker already said, I’m a reaper. I only collect people’s souls when they die, I don’t kill them. It was her time.” Hands stuffed into your pockets, you glanced over to the river you were now walking besides.

“Could I have done anything?” Grell gave a small, sad shake of her head. You nodded in return. After another 10 minutes of silence, she spoke again.

“Can I do something? What do you need?” You inhaled deeply.

“I want to go home,” you started. “I don’t want to be alone,” was added more quietly on to the end.

“Hold onto my arm?” You glanced up at Grell, weighing up your options for a moment before deciding what the hell and then doing just that. The next thing you knew you were standing back in your apartment. Your incredulity was met by the reaper explaining a form of portalling was also something they could do. She looked at you calmly, silently asking what else you needed.

“Please just hold me?”

Grell nodded, dropping the chainsaw - which she had explained was actually a death scyth - and walking towards you, proceeding to sweep her arm beneath your legs then carry you to an armchair, sitting comfortably with you curled into her. Head resting on her shoulder and eyes slightly glazed, she drew gentle patterns along your back.

“Thank you.” It came out as a hushed whisper. Grell shook her head, squeezing you tightly to her.

“I’m so sorry.” You just nodded, squeezing your eyes tightly shut and trying to make sense of everything. You thought it would take a while.

[the-scooby-gang]

Changing the game Chapter 1

The crossover that came to me at 5 in the morning.

Leave a comment. Tell me what you guys think of this plot bunny.

Summary: Petyr Baelish is dead i killed him and now Shaggy Rogers inhabites his body.

Word count: 3015

Catelyn I

The Royal entourage made its way across the gates of the castle like a river of gold and silver and polished steel. Above their heads, standards of gold and crimson of the Houses Baratheon and Lannister flew high above the columns of anointed knights. Wandering knights, sworn soldiers, and vassals followed not too far behind.

Catelyn recognized many faces. Sandor Clegane, by far one of the  tallest men in attendance, was the first to capture her eyes thanks to the ruin that was the right side of his face. The tall golden boy by his side must have to be the Crown Prince, following the giant that was his father, the King Robert Baratheon, that was right in the front of the columns flanked by two white knights. An equally tall and golden man, adorned in golden armor with the helm in the form of a roaring lion followed close by, the white cloak of the King’s Guard bellowing against the cold wind.

The Kingslayer, thought Cat, giving a more thoughtful look to the twin of Her Majesty. Giving a side glance towards her Lord husband, Cat sent a silent prayer to the seven gods, asking that Ned’s dislike of the queen’s family would not bring any animosity while the royal family was under her roof.

Turning her eyes once again towards the gates, Cat could not contain the happy smile that came to her lips. Petyr Baelish, her brother in all but blood, was entering the gates just behind Ser Jaime, a polite smile in his face. He had changed little; his hair was grayer in the temples them when she last saw him, an earring made of gold with a teardrop-shaped emerald lay dangling from his left ear, but besides that, his frame was still small and lanky, with his observing green-grey eyes and his always easy smile.

When his eyes found hers, his already polite smile turned into something more genuine. He dismounted his stead, just as the king was doing the same and followed on the large shadow of Robert Baratheon, to await his time to greet the Lord and Lady of Winterfell.

On his right, the dog Scoobert Doo stayed loyal and vigilant over his master, like he had done as he was riding through the gates, and just like in the day Petyr found him in the forest near Riverrun and claimed the dog as his own. Cat never saw a dog as big as Doo and believed she never would. Petyr called him “A Great Dane” and said that he would probably grow to surpass even Uncle Brynden in high if he stood in his hind legs. When Edmure, not more them a babe at the time, asked how could he possibly know that, a smile that Catelyn would come to know well graced Petyr’s face.

“I saw it in a dream, Eddy,” he said with far more wisdom in his voice than any boy of ten had any right to have. Then, he messed her brother’s red hair with his free hand while the other held the puppy with the care one would expect someone to cradle a newborn baby.

That would be the answer to many of the things that he just seemed to know. Petyr and his dreams were one of the greatest talks of the realm sometimes. The Master of Coin was known to go to sleep when faced with a particularly difficult conundrum and come back to the land of the awaken with a solution on the tip of his fingers. Sometimes, if the ambient was calm enough, he just needed to close his eyes to be momentarily taken to whatever plane of reality his answers lied.

She remembers asking him once what exactly he saw when in one of his trances.

“It depends on what I have to ask,” he said with the utmost sincerity. Sometimes Cat asked herself if he was capable of lying “If I need some deep knowledge about how something works I may ask The Wise Lady, with her kind eyes, dressed in reds and oranges like the morning sun. If I need to think strategically, in combat or in holding court, The Lovely Warrior will have a ready answer…”

In here he made a pause as his face had assumed a look of longing, of warning. He looked at his feet and Catelyn could swear that his face was as bright and red as the sunsets that she and her sister saw atop the towers of Riverrun “if my need is to create, be it a stronghold, a weapon, a speech or, be made of rope or words, a trap, The Blue-eyed Lord is the one I seek.”

After a small pause, Petyr smiled, looked at the sky, and said with a soft voice, as if he was remembering something long gone. Happy memories of a life already liven “But they don’t have fixed roles most of the time. Both the Warrior and the Lord can be just as wise as the Lady, as can the Lady and the Lord be as cunning and resourceful as the Warrior, and the Warrior and the Lady can just as easily create wonders as the Lord can.”

That was the answer he always gave when asked. Cat and half of her household believed that Petyr was being blessed by the gods. The Wise Lady was clearly the Crone, giving him advice. The Warrior was in the name, giving him strength.

The only one no one was quite sure of was The Blue-eyed Lord.

Some said it was The Father, giving him the means to work his justice. Some supposed that The Smith was the most likely since the weapons and plans that came to Petyr in the dead of the night were above anything anyone was ever seen. A small group thought it was The Maiden in disguise, solemnly because Petyr was the most flustered when speaking of them.

Cat would laugh every time that particular hypothesis was broth up. She knew Petyr better them she knew herself, and she was not blind to his long glances to any blond knight that trained at the yard every morning when they were growing up. It was always blond men. These were the favored ones in her brother’s eyes: Blond, blue eyed, with deep knowledge about one expecific thing and, as Petyr once told her one summer night, “Good of heart, dumb of ass”.

She never laught so loudly as she did that night. 

“Your Grace. Winterfell is yours” she heard her husband say, lying on his knees like the rest of her household.

“You grow fat.” Said a bumming voice.

The sound of the King’s remark of her husband’s weight pulled her right back into the present. She turned her head just in time to see Ned go back on his feet, look with disbelief to Robert’s own protuberant belly them back at him with a clearly “And you are one to talk?” look.

The king burst out laughing. Clapping him in his shoulders, Robert turned to her next. Everyone had followed in Ned’s steps and rising to their feet.

“Cat!” roared the Baratheon.

Robert enveloped her in his arms as if she was a long-lost sister and kissed both her cheeks, making her once again lose her brother from sight.

By that time, the others were dismounting, and stable boys ran to collect their horses. The Queen, Cersei Lannister, walked in with her youngest children. The caravan in which they had traveled, a huge two-story carriage made of greased oak and gilded metal, pulled by forty horses with heavy traction, was too wide to pass through the castle gate. Ned knelt in the snow to kiss the queen's ring, while Robert hugged her.

Many stable boys, knights, and servents that have come with the entourage stayed a wide berth away from Scoobert, the sheer size of the dog enough to scare any men. Catelyn wanted to laugh and she could see by Petyr’s face, so did he. Unless you tried to stab Petyr or her or any of their family, Scooby was as threatening as a pillow and just as cuddly.

The servants of Winterfell were already used to the Great Dane from the many visits that Petyr made over the years, the dog aways by his side. She could already see both Bran and Arya dreaming of mounting the dog as if he was a steed, and she had no doubt that Rickon would be introduced to the unofficial tradition.

She remembers when this rite of passage was born, many years ago, when Robb was newly born and the rebellion was coming to an end. Petyr was as always with Scoob by his side, like the gods intended.

When Ned was explaining that the boy that he was bringing with him, a babe that he had named Jon, one of Brandon’s bastards, was going to be living with them, Petyr and the baby Robb were playing with Scoob. The babe was carefully laid over the back of the dog, green-gray eyes focused like an eagle on the redhead of his nephew with ready hands for the chance that they had to move quickly to grab a falling babe.

Robb giggled happily, without a single care in the world. Jon soon followed him on his furry mount. That afternoon was full of the giggles of babes and the soft trot of Scooby paws against pillows.

Ever since then, all the Stark children would have their first ride, not in a pony as it was common, but on the might back of Scoobert Doo.

 Petyr and Ned had just come back from the war, Petyr under Lord Arryn banner and Ned as the new Lord of Winterfell. Petyr may not have the body expected of a knight, but what he didn’t have in muscle he compensated with speed. Ned would tell her how Petyr was in the field,  looking  like he was dancing in mid his enemies, with the sword that he long ago had made per his instructions cutting through armor and flesh like it was cutting the air while Scoobert shredded the arms of anyone that got to close off his master.

She told her husband the story of that blade. The blacksmith of Riverrun recognized the design as one of the blades of Yi-Ti and Ser Desmond Grell, the master-at-arms asked the then boy of eight were he found such a thing.

“I saw it in a dream, Ser Desmond” answered Petyr “An old warrior was training me. He told me to climb the earth, walk on air, pass through the fire, and brave my way through the water. When I did it,  a Green Dragon gave me a sword just like this one” them he pointed to the newly made blade, one he called katana and later on would name Loyalty. “The Dragon told me that I would never fight like a knight. I will always be too small and light for that. He told me ‘Fight like the wind, like the flowing waters of the rivers. Fight like a samurai”

Ser Desmond had no idea what a Samurai was, but he would find out that to know was not necessary. The boy, like almost anything in his life apparently, was learning his routines in dreams. He was only necessary to fix his stances, give him targets, and look after him and anyone that was going to be his opponent for the day.

Cat shook herself out of her memories. This was not the place or time for her attention to be so dispersed. With a small sigh of relief, she noticed that the king was still going down the line of her children. At the moment he was complimenting Bran’s muscles, telling him that he would make a fine knight.

When the king finished with his inspection and spirited her husband away to the crypts to the Queen’s displeasure, Petyr finally approached her and her children.

“Uncle Shaggy!” screamed Arya, throwing herself in his open arms.

The nickname was born years ago when Catelyn, Lysa, Edmure, and Petyr went riding by the river, looking for a perfect place for an afternoon picnic. Petyr rode like he was born to do so and his hair by the end of the day was so messy that Edmure started calling him “Shaggy Hair” and later on only “Shaggy”. Petyr seemed to love it and it had indeed fitted him like a second skin.

Somehow that particular nickname seemed more personal them any nickname that Edmure had ever given him. In public, Eddy called him “Littlefinger”, since it was the first name he had ever given him and so was the one everyone knew. But when it was just them, between close doors and the seclusion of the sacred forest, the name “Shaggy” was the one to fall from his lips.

Robb had been the first one to call him that. Followed by Jon, Arya, Bran, even Ned could be caught from time to time calling him by the name. Sansa, on the other hand, rarely called him anything that was not “Uncle Petyr”, “Uncle” and “Lord Baelish”. Petyr used to bribe Sansa with lemon cakes when she was younger to call him by his family nickname, but now at thirteen the bribes rarely work like they used to. Sansa was worried about what would be proper to call a member of the Small Council and found it  demeaning for a man in such a position.

She remembers the look Shaggy gave her after Sansa told him this, the day he had come to Winterfell to celebrate her oldest daughter name day. She also remembers how she lost her composure and snorted like a fool when she saw the incredulous expression in his face.

“But look at that! The Hurricane of Winterfell has grown once more” He held Arya as if she weighed nothing. The years of running around carrying a hundred and seventy-five pounds of dog in his arms as if it was a babe had given him great strength. “ At this rate, you will be taller than me in no time”

Arya blushed. Shaggy was by far her favorite uncle and she always shined under his compliments.

Scooby was already licking Bran’s face, not after having sent the boy straight up to the ground. Bran laughed happily and without care. Rickon was looking at the dog in awe and Jon, Robb, and Theon Greyjoy, the protege of Winterfell, burst with laughter.

“Scooby, stop it. He’s going to get all dirty” said Catelyn, but she could not take the small smile of her face.

Scoob followed her orders. Robb helped Bran to get up and cleaned the dirt that covered his back. Shaggy put Arya back on the ground, kissed Sansa’s hand with a small bow with the proper “My Lady” and then turned to Cat, a mischievous smile on his face.

Without warning, Shaggy hugged her, held her out of the ground, and spun her around laughing like a mad man. His laughter as always was infectious and, caring little for the onlookers (something she would severely chastise herself and Shaggy later when she had recovered her wits) she laughed with him.

He put her back on the ground and kissed both her cheeks.

“Big sister, you’re  as radiant as ever,” he said looking her over “I hope that Lord Eddard remains treating you well?” his voice jested, but she saw that his eyes were deadly serious.

Shaggy was loyal to a fault, and since the day he came to live with her family he internalized her house words as if they were his own, just like they had come to see him as one of their own. Family, Duty, Honor. The family was above all else in his eyes, be it blood or chosen family. If her answer had been anything but positive, she knew that Ned would find himself with the angry entity that was Shaggy in a protective fury.

“My Lord husband remains the best thing that the gods could have blessed me,” said Cat with sincerity.

Shaggy smiled and took her by the arm and together they started to walk towards the great hall, her children not too far behind petting Scooby-Doo with love and little Rickon perched on his back.

“If you say so, my lady. But always remember, if you need me in any shape or form I’m just one raven away.” here his voice turned into a whisper “Gods know I would take any excuse to leave that nest of vipers”

They both giggle like they were children again and walked through the immense doors of the keep.

Petyr’s father, before he died, said once that in the way to Riverrun Petyr had fallen asleep one  night and awaked the next morning completely different. He said he was sweeter, more gentle, and caring. He believed that his son’s dreams started that night and that it has changed him.

If that was so, Catelyn sang many  blessings to that day. She would never know how their life would have gone had Shaggy never started dreaming, but she knew what this life had given her.

It has given her a brother.  An eccentric and beloved brother.

“Come along, my dear. We have many things to discuss” he said still in whispers “About propositions that are going to be made and marrieges that, if we play our cards right, will never come to be.”

Her smile soured. She knew what proposition he was talking about. Since the death of Jon Arryn and the letter from Lysa, she had been on edge with the uncoming visity from the king,  bringing the Lannisters to her home. Regarding marriege, she had know about the possibility of Robert wanting to join their houses, but the look on Shaggy’s face told her a deeper rabbit hole that she was not seeing.

Giving him a calculated smile that was easily reciprocated, arm in arm, they entered the hall. 

[owlsbride]

This Too Shall pass

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Kuroshitsuji.

Please read the end for notes.

Chapter I

It was exhausting. The number of extra hours that they have been working was uncalculated, and everyone was starting to feel the tiredness of the endless work. The London Dispatch was scattered all over the city going here and there relentlessly. For the first time, many of them would have preferred to stick at the office doing the, once tedious, paperwork. Yes, even the always flamboyant and thirsty of blood, Grell Sutcliff. Of course, the Chinese Dispatch had told the world that something terrible was coming back then at the end of the last year; still, nobody would have guessed, not even in their wildest dream, that a pandemic like this one was going to strike again. Most of them have been around during the Black Death, the Smallpox and the Spanish Flu, but they wouldn't think that an illness like this one was going to strike again.

It all had started in November 2019. Others would say that it was in December in China, with the spread of a new disease transmitted by a bat carrying a virus known as Coronavirus. Generally, this virus causes symptoms similar to those of the flu, but the now called COVID -19 became a fatal disease for many people. In the blink of an eye, the COVID spread throughout the world infecting millions and leaving behind thousands of dead. Desolation and despair were everywhere, and the busy Shinigamis were all aware that this situation was not going to end soon. They were running around hospitals, homes, streets, waiting and checking every second their list to check who was on the list and who was not. The problem was that people in London, and of course all over the world, people keep dying for other causes: murders, suicides, old age and many other things that no human could even imagine, so right now they were absolutely complicated.

William T. Spears was tired, desolated. The only thing that could ease his heavy inhuman heart was that at least at the moment, no demons were hanging around. He had not been able to perceive any contract, and that took a burden off him. However, the weight on his shoulders was unbearable: not even all the shinigamis in the UK seemed to have enough time to accomplish the task, and the list only grew and grew without an end.

William was stepped over one of the many London roofs. He was watching with his green shinigami eyes the many windows of the St. Bartholomew's Hospital: death was inevitable, there was no chance of scaping it, not for the fragile humans that roam the world every day. He was there, just thinking when a flash of red pulled him out of his thought.

"William Darling, you look awful tonight." Grell Sutcliff, the red ripper, spoke to him waving his manicured hands in front of his stoic secret lover face, "You really should do something about it, maybe we can go home and leave the rest to Ronald." He finished dreamingly.

"Now it's not the time Sutcliff" William spoke firmly without looking the redhead.

"Oh! Will, come on! these people are going to die anyway." the younger insisted "Besides it won't make any difference if we switch places, we can go somewhere more private."

"I said not now, don't make me punish you, I don't have the time" William stated.

"Oh my, is that a suggestion? William love, I'm more than willing." Grell teased, a grin spread all over his fair face, white teeth shining under the moonlight.

"I said stop it" William finished punching the flamboyant ripper in the head a little bit harder than expected.

"Oh Lord, you are really turning me on with all that bossy vibes." Grell shivered, receiving another punch. "Ok, ok, I get it! What do you want me to do?" finally giving up but not without a hint of tease in his voice.

"We are lack of resources" William seriously began. "We are nowhere near filling all the positions necessary to complete the evening rosters, and the morning shift is about to begin" he sighed.

"Well..." Grell began full of doubt and fear "We can always call him?" covering his head as he spoke, he looked William with hope, after all, he was getting tired too.

"Don't even think about it, he is a deserter" William answered, annoyed.

"Oh come on Will, don't be such a baby!" Grell stated knowingly "Besides, you know he is the best and you have to admit, he must be utterly bored in these days."

"You have a point" William agreed stubbornly.

"Great! So, when are you going to pay him a visit?" Grell questioned, unfolded his arms and releasing his breath.

"Oh no, sweetheart." a devilish smile spread across William's face. "It's your idea, you are going to pay him a visit" And with that, the stoic shinigami disappeared with his death scythe ready to work.

"Well done, Grelly, well done" The read head spoke to himself sighing "Where does he leave now? Oh yes! I must prepare myself, and a girl should always be at her best."

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Author Notes: As I said yesterday I write this story from the bottom of my heart, it´s full of respect for doctors, personal health and victims. It´s my humble tribute. With this, I do not want to disrespect anyone but quite the opposite. It is a story that tries to function as a defence mechanism and in turn bring hope, love and honour to all those who have given their lives for us and to those who have lost it in this time. If you like it please do not forget to comment, leave your reviews or leave me your messages where you already know. If you have criticism please be constructive. English is not my mother language if you find errors or miss them or help me edit.

thank you and yours forever Owl´s

[raywritesthings]

Bird in a Storm 14/17

My Writing Fandom: Arrow Characters: Laurel Lance, Oliver Queen, Tommy Merlyn, John Diggle, Athena, Moira Queen, Thea Queen, Frank Chen Pairing: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen Summary: The confrontation between the Hood and SWAT on the roof of the Winick Building goes differently, altering the course of Laurel’s career, relationships and efforts to save her city forever, the shockwaves of such an altered path making themselves felt throughout her family and friends. *Can be read on my AO3, link is in bio*

Her first foray on the bike was going pretty well, in her personal opinion. It wasn’t like she had never ridden one, of course. Under her dad’s supervision, she’d been on the back of one of the police-issue motorcycles a few times and even shown the different controls. Ollie had always liked his bikes as well, and Laurel had refused to act the nervous girlfriend about it; part of why he and Tommy had always liked hanging around her had been her relative willingness to go along with their various misadventures to a point. She’d stopped short of anything that would have seen her in front of a judge.

Though if Oliver or Tommy could see her now, risking arrest night after night… she didn’t know how they could all be in the same city and yet feel further apart than ever most days. Even if a lot of that was her own fault.

She knew John Diggle was right. Oliver was likely to find out the truth of what she was up to these days, if only by running into her out on the streets some night. Wouldn’t it be better for the truth to just come from her?

But there was every chance it wouldn’t be better, that Oliver would react badly either way. He still blamed himself for all the crazy turns her life had taken this year. Laurel wasn’t sure if she could make him understand that this wasn’t the rock bottom of some downward spiral. If anything, this was a newfound sense of purpose and, strangely, of inner peace after being frozen in place for the last five years.

Did she have regrets? Of course. She wished she’d never agreed to date Tommy and broken his heart; she wished her job and the jobs of countless others actually paid a decent wage; she wished with all her heart that Sara could’ve been the girl in the Rockets cap her mother had been so desperate to find. But losing nearly everything had forced her to look at things from another point of view. 

No longer was she the charitable helper from on high, enlightened and sympathetic to the plight of others when no one else would listen. She could see for herself that there had been and always would be those in the Glades helping each other. Laurel had made more friends in the months since moving to her new home than she had had in her life, and friends who wouldn’t just disappear on her the way so many of her and Oliver’s high society acquaintances had after the Gambit sank. And her understanding of justice and how it was enacted out in the real world had shifted radically as she had lost the blinders of her father’s old strictures and learned for herself what truly needed doing. She wouldn’t trade any of that for her old life.

Maybe, in a way, Oliver would understand. After all, he was the man he was today in part because of the misfortunes he had learned to fight and live through. She didn’t think he would go back, either.

Her wandering thoughts were cut off by her phone, which she could feel buzzing in her pocket. Laurel pulled off the road into an alley before stopping the bike and getting it out. “Hello?”

“Laurel, listen, it’s me,” John Diggle said. She tensed, wondering if he was about to let her know he had told Oliver about her. “I’m hoping you can stop by the base tonight.”

“How come?”

“We got word about Walter, and it’s… not good. Oliver’s not doing well. I’d stay with him, but Felicity’s taking it hard, too. She needs someone. And I think — no, I know he probably needs you.”

Laurel’s eyes had closed at hearing Walter’s name and she swallowed once before nodding. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Bad news about Walter. She could only assume someone had found the body. What a horrible thing to happen to a good man. What must Oliver’s family be going through? Apparently they weren’t grieving together, if Oliver had chosen to retreat to his base.

Laurel stopped by her home to drop off her wig and mask, then drove out to the Verdant. John’s car was still parked out back, so he must have decided to wait for her to arrive before leaving for Felicity’s. She remembered the blonde woman a little, though she didn’t know what she had to do with Walter exactly. Anyone would be taking the news of an innocent man’s death badly, though.

Laurel came in through the back entrance and immediately took notice of the fact that most of the lights were off. She spotted John in a chair, talking in low tones to Oliver, who was sitting on the ground with the wall at his back.

They both looked up at her approach, and Laurel slowed to a stop. But John stood and nodded to her in thanks before walking out the way she had come. Oliver’s gaze lowered back to his hands, and they were left in silence.

Laurel forewent the chair and settled cross-legged on the ground, her knee bumping Oliver’s thigh. “I’m so sorry, Ollie.”

“I don’t know what I expected. I guess, because of the lack of ransom note, I thought he might be being held for some other reason. That we could find him in time. But it didn’t matter what we did. He was dead before I left the hospital last December.”

She couldn’t exactly hug him from this position, so Laurel wrapped an arm around his shoulders and guided him to rest his head against her own shoulder. That he went with little fuss or fight wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

“How’s Thea taking it?”

“Not well. I left her with- with Raisa.” His shoulders, if anything hunched tighter together. “They both knew Walter better than I had the chance to. I can’t really relate to what she’s going through.”

“Of course you can,” Laurel told him gently. “You lost your own father.”

“And I wasn’t able to save him any better than I was able to save Walter for Thea. Or for mom.” His throat bobbed, and his voice came out strained. “She’s shut herself back up in her room again. I don’t know how we’ll get her out.”

“You will. Your mother loves you and Thea, but she just needs time. And this wasn’t your fault. You said it yourself, you were in the hospital when he was taken.”

“If I had beaten the Dark Archer—”

“Then you still wouldn’t have been at Queen Consolidated to stop Walter’s kidnapping. How could you have known to be there? Like you said, these people who took him left no sort of warning or indication that this was happening or why.”

He sighed through his nose. “There’s a lot happening that I still don’t know why.”

“You’ll figure it out,” she insisted. “You’ve already done so much since coming home. You can do this, too.”

“Thank you.” He lifted his head to look her in the eye at last. “You always believe in me no matter how badly it hurts you. I can’t help thinking you’d be better off if you never found out who I was, or if I’d kept my distance as the Hood. But maybe you’d have just ended up helping out the Woman instead.”

Laurel stiffened, her arm drawing back. “The Woman?”

“Yeah, that’s… well that’s what some of them are calling her. From everything that’s said, she’s more the hero that you hoped I’d be.”

Laurel’s heart sank. That wasn’t what she’d intended at all by going out. She’d been inspired by him and wanted to further what he had been doing on a smaller scale, not cause him to doubt himself.

“Ollie...”

“Hm?” His head tilted, curious as she struggled with how to say what she needed to. Yet as she struggled, a light seemed to spark in his eyes as his mouth fell open into a silent oh.

Laurel cringed. “That obvious?”

“Not as much as it should have been.” He hung his head, slowly shaking it side to side. “What have I done?”

Laurel frowned, shifting onto her knees so she could face him fully. “This isn’t something you did. Yes, you inspired me, but this was a choice I made. And it’s one I stand by.”

“If I hadn’t gotten you into trouble at work—”

“How many times am I going to have to remind you of all the good you’ve done and just how heavily it outweighs the bad? I’m not even talking about the city here. I’m talking about me.”

He looked up at her, and Laurel decided in that moment that they’d better stand. She needed to pull him out of this hole, and physically doing so was just about as good a place to start as any. So she took hold of his hands and tugged him up onto his feet with her.

“Without you, I would never have won the Hunt case once it got put in front of Judge Grell. I wouldn’t have won the Sommers case, either, because I’d probably be dead. Assuming I even managed to survive that, I would have let Peter Declan die like everyone else without you pointing it out to me. Yes, I was a lawyer, Ollie, and a good one. But I was passive. I was passive in every aspect of my life, too afraid to live because I didn’t want to get hurt. I’d found my comfort zone, and I was stuck in it.

“You changed that, the way you always do,” she continued, allowing herself to smile a little. “And it turned out that losing everything was the best thing to happen to me. I was too naive to see just how badly the system was functioning until I was living it for myself. Now that I know better, I can be more proactive, both in protecting the people of this city and myself. I know exactly what I’m willing to tolerate from people and the level of respect I deserve.” She thought of her mother and the lie she had kept all those years and never truly apologized for. Hard to imagine that she could find it easier to forgive the man who had betrayed her trust rather than her own flesh and blood, but Oliver had never once taken her forgiveness for granted the way her mother had seemed to be doing when she had arrived. He had worked for it, earned it.

But how he responded to her choice to take to the streets was going to be the true test going forward of whether she really did have his respect. She took a breath and said, “I can understand if you’re upset I didn’t tell you, but I needed to do this for me. To prove to myself I still had something to give to our city. So what are you thinking now?”

Oliver shifted his weight from one foot to the other, clearly still taking in a lot of what she had just heaped on him. At the very least, she had probably provided a distraction from his grief if she hadn’t alleviated it. But she knew firsthand it wasn’t so simple a thing as telling it to go away. “I don’t know. I can’t be happy about this, Laurel. Not because you’ve done something wrong, but because of the way this city forces good, honest people like you and your father to go outside the system in order to actually make a difference. Anywhere else, CNRI could’ve operated independently from the interests of wealthy backers, and they never would’ve forced someone as talented as you out the door. They have no idea what they gave up.”

He paced away a moment, then came back. “I’m also terrified. I know just how dangerous it is out there, and I never wanted you to be in that kind of danger, let alone put yourself there. Is this what you’ve been going out there in?” He took hold of the two sides of her jacket which she’d unzipped upon reaching the base. At her nod, he frowned. “It’s not enough. You could take some real damage, get shot.”

“I have been,” she told him and shrugged. “Mostly a graze, but I handled it.”

He stared at her in shock, seemingly at a loss for words.

Laurel sighed and placed her hands over his. “Look, I knew this was going to be hard for you. That’s why I didn’t want to burden you with it. We haven’t run into each other out in the field so far, so you don’t have to think much about it if you don’t want.”

“It’s not that simple,” he argued. “I won’t be able to stop thinking about what could happen.”

“You can’t ask me to stop.” Laurel pried his fingers off her jacket and stepped back, only for him to follow and cup her face.

“I know. I know that, Laurel. If this year’s shown me anything, it’s that you’ll do things your way no matter what. You’re just like me that way.” His thumbs stroked her cheekbones as his eyes searched hers, and she tried not to shiver. “If the choice is between doing this with or without me, which would you choose?”

“What?”

He seemed at least a little amused by her shock, judging by the soft smile on his face as he said, “I’d rather you be at my side than out on your own. That’s what I’m thinking now.”

Laurel swallowed, her eyes stinging a little. Not in her wildest dreams had she expected Oliver to make that kind of offer, not at first anyway. He really had changed. She gripped his forearms. “There’s things I’m focused on that you’re not, and I can’t say I’d be much help against someone like that Dark Archer.”

“That’s okay. We can figure out what works.”

“Okay,” she agreed, her voice barely audible.

Oliver licked his lips, and, close as they were, she couldn’t help staring. “I need you, Laurel.”

“I know.” The truth was, she needed him, too. Tommy had seen it all those months ago, back when she had been unwilling to admit it. But she knew in her bones they were ready now, in a way they’d never been before.

He leaned down, one hand moving around to cup the back of her head, fingers playing with the shorter strands. Her own hands slid up his arms to his chest, his shoulders, his neck as their lips met. This wasn’t the rushed, blindly passionate kiss they had shared in his bedroom all those months ago. Laurel felt grounded in who she was and where and when and who she was with, and she was glad. She had missed him so, so much.

They broke apart, and Oliver brought his forehead to rest against hers, his eyes closed. She stroked the back of his neck and held him, her eyes darting around the base. Everything was so cold and sterile; had he really been planning to spend the whole night here?

“Why don’t you come home with me?”

His eyes opened, though he stayed silent.

“You shouldn’t be alone right now. We can talk, or we don’t have to, but I want to be there for you.” She would make sure he returned to his family at some point, but she’d learned the hard way to read his physical tells of when he wasn’t ready to do something and wouldn’t say it out loud. She would give him the night before gently reminding him how much his sister and mother needed him, too.

Laurel led him by the hand out of the base, though Oliver stopped short at the sight of her bike. “You drove here on this?”

“Yeah. It’s sturdy,” she added when he continued to stare dubiously at it.

“Maybe for one. Come on, we’re taking mine.”

“I think you just want to drive,” Laurel replied with crossed arms as they headed further across the lot.

“You can drive — once I get you a new bike.”

She was having trouble keeping herself from smiling, glad that he already seemed to be feeling at least a little better. “I like my bike. Roy and I worked hard on it.”

“Roy?”

“Let’s just say I’m not the only one you inspired.”

Oliver’s eyebrows raised, though all he did was swing a leg over the bike and wait for her to get on. She wrapped her arms securely around him, and with one last soft look back at her, he started the engine and headed off for her place.

---

Oliver didn’t actually go to sleep. He rested with his eyes closed, even retreated into his own mind for a while, but he was afraid to truly lose consciousness. Because it might mean that when he woke up, he would realize all this was a dream.

He didn’t know how he could be experiencing a kind of dream with everything else going on — Walter’s loss was waiting somewhere in the recesses of his mind for the chance to drag him down into guilt and grief again at any moment. Yet the Laurel in his head had often come to him in his darkest moments on the island to help him see a way through. That the real one was here now to do so herself was a greater comfort than she probably knew.

Laurel had dozed for a while, but mostly she’d stayed awake, quietly running a hand up and down his back while his head rested against her breast. They were entwined practically head to toe to fit on her incredibly small mattress, and Oliver’s feet were still hanging the slightest bit over, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. In truth, parts of his body were very happy with the situation.

The part of him that wanted to remain in this bed with Laurel forever, whatever they got up to in it, was eventually superseded by the realization that he had not eaten since before his confrontation with Dominic Alonzo. A loud growl from his stomach pretty effectively cut through the quiet intimacy of their embrace, and Laurel lifted her head the same time that he did.

“I probably have something in my cabinets. I’ll give you a minute to get settled.” Her pointed glance down had him ducking his head slightly, though she swiftly leaned in to kiss him on the cheek in a sign she clearly didn’t mind.

Oliver ran through some of the meditation techniques he had been trained in before feeling sufficiently calm and in control, then stopped in the bathroom to wash his face. There was a potted plant of some kind that sat there, its green leaves long and healthy. He padded out to the kitchen in his bare feet to find Laurel at the stove with a skillet and eggs. This warranted some monitoring.

To his surprise, however, there were no major accidents as she fried two eggs for them each. He found a couple plates in her cabinet and got them each some water as well, and they took seats at the counter beside each other.

“So, this Roy. You wouldn’t be talking about Roy Harper, would you?”

“I would. Jealous?” She asked in mock seriousness.

“Considering he’s supposed to be dating my sister, I hope not.”

Laurel raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know they’d gotten together. That’s interesting.”

Interesting was a perfectly neutral word and probably one he would use if Thea ever asked his opinion on her relationship.

“How much does he know?”

“He knows about me. Helped me home the other night when I was shot.”

Well, the younger man was rising in his estimation, at least.

“He wants to know about you,” Laurel continued after taking another forkful of egg. “I told him I’d see what you thought.”

He frowned in thought. What did he think? Roy Harper was an oddball, in that he had been on the right track to becoming a career criminal before suddenly changing his ways. He couldn’t say if it was down to Thea’s influence, his saving the kid’s life or these encounters with Laurel he was only just learning about. Maybe it was a combination. That being said, he wasn’t sure he was prepared to trust Roy with his identity just yet. He was still something of a loose cannon, even if he had turned over a new leaf.

“I’ll give it some thought. Maybe once I’ve figured out what the Undertaking really is.”

“The Undertaking?”

He froze and then shook his head. “I guess I always meant to tell you. The night I went to see my mother as the Hood, it was because Digg had overheard her meeting with some man about something they called the Undertaking. It has something to do with the list my father gave me and something to do with the underground subway tunnels in the Glades, but beyond that I don’t know a thing.”

Laurel frowned. “Did Walter? Maybe that’s why…”

He nodded. “Felicity told me he got a copy of the list from my mother and was looking into it before his- his death.” It was hard to put it so finally. “But he didn’t have any better ideas about what it was than we do, or if he did then he was never able to share them.”

Laurel placed her hand over his resting on the counter. Oliver turned his palm over so that he could lace their fingers together.

“If it’s something worth killing for, it can’t be good.”

“Yep.”

They didn’t have much longer to talk about it since his phone started buzzing. Oliver glanced at the caller ID, seeing his sister’s name, before answering. “Hello?”

“Ollie, where are you?”

He winced. He hadn’t actually wanted Thea to worry about him. “At a friend’s. I’m okay, Speedy, I promise.”

“Then you haven’t seen the news,” she told him.

Oliver felt something cold settle in the pit of his stomach. “Why, what’s happened?”

“They’re saying Mr. Merlyn passed away in the hospital sometime last night. Complications with his recovery.”

“Oh.” It was wholly inadequate, and yet, Oliver could only feel numb. He had just started processing Walter’s death. To know that another man who had been in his life since childhood — and truly more so, having been his father’s best friend — was simply gone, like that, was simply bizarre. He had known Mr. Merlyn’s chances of recovery were slim and felt incredible guilt over having been unable to convince Tommy of the blood transfusion, yet for it to have taken such a turn for the worse so quickly, it felt like pulling the rug out from under him. He hadn’t even had the chance to visit the man in his hospital room yet.

Though thinking of his old friend, Oliver asked, “Have you heard from Tommy?”

“No. I was kind of hoping you had.”

His eyes squeezed shut. “I haven’t. Listen, I’ll- I’ll be home soon. I’ll leave right now. Just stay with mom. Has she heard yet?”

“I don’t think so. She’s still in her room,” Thea told him.

“Then wait for me, and we’ll tell her together.” He couldn’t imagine how hard this would be for his mother, losing her husband and her old friend in essentially the same night. They would be lucky if she left the house by fall. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Okay.”

He hung up, meeting Laurel’s concerned eyes. “What’s wrong with Tommy?”

“Nothing exactly. Just… Mr. Merlyn passed last night, according to the news.”

Laurel brought her other hand up to her mouth, and the one holding his clutched at his fingers tightly. “Oh, Tommy.”

“Yeah. I need to check on my mother, and then I’ll see about tracking him down.” Guilt churned anew in his stomach as he thought of the way he and his friend’s last conversation — or perhaps argument — had ended. And he worried what Tommy might think if he knew where and who Oliver was with right now. In the next moment, he dismissed that thought. Laurel was important to him, and Tommy knew that. He had been willing to set aside his own disappointment to be happy for his friends when they had tried to make a relationship work. As his friend, wouldn’t Tommy be willing to make the same choice?

He stood up and leaned in for one last kiss Laurel readily gave him. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do. If there’s word on the arrangements…”

“Of course.”

He made the drive back to Queen Manor to find Thea sitting on the steps up to the bedrooms. “Were you out all night?”

“Kind of. Come on.” He helped her up, and together they headed to their mother’s bedroom door. He knocked lightly. “Mom?”

“Yes, sweetheart?” Her voice sounded remarkably steady. 

Oliver exchanged a look with Thea before asking, “Can we come in?”

“Of course.”

He opened the door and entered, Thea trailing him.

Their mother was sitting up in bed, a robe pulled on over her pajamas. A photo album sat in her lap, one that, Oliver realized with an uncomfortable lurch, must have been produced for her and Walter’s wedding. She was stopped on a photo of the two of them, her one hand lovingly stroking the side of the page.

“I always hated this picture. I thought I looked bug-eyed,” she confessed, her tone more wistful than it was sorrowful. “But he always took a wonderful photo.”

“Mom, there’s been some, uh, some news,” Thea spoke up timidly.

She looked up, expectant, but Thea turned to him.

“Mr. Merlyn passed away last night in the hospital.”

He watched her eyes widen and mouth drop, heard the sympathy in her voice as she said, “Oh no, I was hoping for Tommy’s sake he would pull through. Malcolm was such a strong man.”

“Yeah, they think it was complications from the coma or something,” Thea muttered. “I wish I’d apologized to him for what I said at the party.”

Their mother opened her arms, and Thea sat on the side of the mattress and accepted her hug. “I don���t think he held it against you at all, dear. You were going through a hard time. Something this family isn’t strangers to, I’m afraid.” She smoothed Thea’s hair back and looked up. “I’ll make sure flowers are sent to Tommy’s home right away. Have you spoken to him yet?”

“No,” said Oliver, a little stiffly. Something felt off.

“Well, I’d reach out as soon as possible, Oliver. He’s going to need your support.” She shut the album and laid it on Walter’s side of the bed with care. “I’ll dress and start seeing to those arrangements.”

Thea stood and backed up towards him, and when their mother got up as well she reached out and cupped both their cheeks. “Thank you for checking on me and letting me know. It would have been dreadful to read it in the paper.”

“Sure, mom,” Thea said.

“Yeah,” Oliver agreed uneasily. He followed Thea out of the room and shut the door, pausing there in the hall.

Thea let out a breath in relief. “Well, nothing like keeping up appearances to get her moving again.”

“I guess,” Oliver replied, but kept the rest of his thoughts to himself. He hated thinking it, but his mother had been almost too put-together given what Thea had told him of her handling of his and his father’s reported deaths and what he’d seen when Walter was first declared missing. And while she had displayed the typical signs of shock at the news about Mr. Merlyn, it just hadn’t felt like his mother. Where was the denial, the insistence that someone at Channel 52 had gotten it wrong?

But what did it mean? It could just be that she had made her peace with both Walter’s disappearance and Malcolm’s health already.

There was nothing he could do about the misgivings he held right now, and truthfully he was avoiding reaching out to Tommy. Oliver got out his phone and dialed, frowning when it went straight to voicemail. He tried again and sent a text for good measure.

Where would Tommy be right now? The hospital? He didn’t want to intrude there if he was. Beyond that, Oliver wasn’t totally sure where Tommy had been living ever since he had walked out of Laurel’s apartment.

He looked up the number to call to try and reach Tommy at Merlyn Global. A secretary answered, of course.

“Hi, this is Oliver Queen. I was hoping to get in touch with your boss. I just heard the news about his father.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Queen, but Mr. Merlyn is taking a leave of absence at this time and will not be taking any calls. I can have the details of the upcoming memorial service sent to you if you would like to pay your respects at that time.”

“I would, thank you.”

He took lunch with his mother and Thea, even more troubled than before. His mother was up and about while Tommy had shut off all forms of contact. What was going on?

Diggle had made it in by the time lunch was over, and Oliver led him into a side room to talk. “You’ve seen the news?”

“Yeah. I was expecting it to be pretty quiet around here.”

“So was I.”

John raised an eyebrow. “You weren’t here when it hit?”

“Later. Look, the main thing is, I can’t get a hold of Tommy. He’s been… off lately, but I don’t want to leave him alone in this. Would Felicity be up for pinging his phone?”

His friend shook his head. “She’s zonked out on Nyquil after crying her way through the night. I doubt she’s even heard about Merlyn.”

He let out a breath. “Then I guess we wait.”

It was two days of feeling like something was not quite right with the world. Between Mr. Merlyn’s sudden passing, Tommy’s silence and his mother’s strange calm, Oliver wasn’t sure what was truly causing his senses to be on high alert.

Only Laurel could get him to calm both nights when she joined him and Digg down in the base. Without Felicity there to chatter like she had been the last couple nights they had been following the lead on Walter, her company was welcome to them both, and Oliver felt some of the tension in him ease as they ran practice spars against each other. Laurel was fairly solid on the fighting forms she had chosen to learn while Oliver had bits and pieces from a variety of teachers, and it made them an odd yet oddly suited match as they tested each other’s limits. She took quickly to learning from both him and Diggle; it was the studious nature in her that drove her to discover and master anything about a subject she took interest in.

“The memorial is going to be at the Merlyn home,” Oliver told her the second night as they danced around each other on the mats. “They’re burying him next to his wife.” 

Laurel froze, only for a moment, but it was enough for him to get behind her and pin her arms to her sides.

She kicked out, forcing him to jump back, and then she had spun to face him again. “Do you think… I still haven’t spoken to him since it all fell apart.”

“What other time is there going to be?” Oliver pointed out. “I know things didn’t end well, and I didn’t help that by driving a wedge between you two as the Hood. But Tommy is going to need us. I hope he is, anyway.”

His mother and Thea reacted only with mild surprise when Laurel arrived at the manor the next morning dressed all in black to make the drive over to the Merlyns’ with them. She had brought a basket of roses with her in a deep red color, more like crimson.

“They mean grief and sorrow. Pam and I put them together,” Laurel told him.

After being dropped off by their driver, their procession of four walked across the lawn to where chairs had been set out. Already the crowd was filling in, and Oliver found them a row near the front with enough open seats.

Before she could enter the row with them, his mother was approached by Frank Chen, another old friend to the family. The two were speaking softly enough that Oliver couldn’t make out what was being said, but something again felt odd. He just couldn’t place it.

Up ahead, he spotted the back of Tommy’s head where he sat in the front row. His only companion looked to be a woman with long, dark hair, though Oliver could not distinguish any of her features from behind. He didn’t think he knew her, and he wondered how Tommy did, his mind briefly recalling what his friend had said about the girls at Oliver’s funeral being like fish in a barrel. He immediately dismissed the thought; Tommy would never use his own father’s funeral for a score. He felt he knew his friend that well at least.

Eventually his mother took her place beside Thea, and Chen found his own seat further back. The funeral conductor moved to the front and center of the gathering.

“We are here to remember and to commemorate the life of one of Starling City’s most dedicated humanitarians. A beloved husband, father and friend to many. There were few who were as passionate about the future of our home and our people as Malcolm Merlyn.”

The conductor championed Mr. Merlyn’s story; a young businessman who had come to Starling City because he saw the potential to prosper, and prosper he had. How he had met Rebecca Merlyn through his friends, Oliver’s parents, and how special their love had been. Merlyn Global, Tommy’s birth, Rebecca’s loss, the ways he had continued to give back in memory of her.

“It was another senseless act of violence that robbed the world of Malcolm Merlyn. But I am told that he died as he lived, protecting another. His son, Thomas Merlyn. Thomas asked not to speak today, but he wished it to be known that he intends to carry on his father’s legacy in all ways.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed his mother shift, her throat tightening. Her eyes stayed fixed forward. Laurel sent him a questioning glance, but Oliver gave the smallest shake of his head. Here wasn’t the place to get into his mother’s strange behavior.

The ceremony closed, and one by one, everyone came up to the front to pay their respects. Oliver tried to think of the last words he exchanged with Mr. Merlyn; he truthfully hadn’t seen much of him since his return home. He had called out to him to keep moving that night of the attack, and his father’s old friend had nodded in understanding. If only it had been the right call to make.

“I got in an argument with him,” Laurel said quietly, as if sensing his thoughts. “I went to dinner with him and Tommy, and we had a disagreement about his treatment of him.”

“Well, from what I know, Tommy and his father became pretty close by the end,” Oliver mused. “So maybe your argument helped more than you thought.”

Most of the guests were making their way to the house where tables with refreshment had been set up. Tommy, however, remained standing on the patio, nodding in acknowledgement or murmuring a quiet thanks to those mourners who addressed their condolences to him. As Oliver and Laurel approached, his eyes seemed to fix on them. Oliver wasn’t sure what to make of the expression on his friend’s face; it seemed like one of loathing.

Laurel took the lead in coming up to Tommy, hesitating for one moment before wrapping him into a hug. Tommy remained stiff and did not even attempt to return it. Oliver was more concerned with the woman who had sat next to Tommy at the service watching them from several feet back. Her gaze was cool and calculating, and the noticeable scar on her face had him wondering just who she was.

“Tommy, I’m so sorry,” Laurel said as she stepped back. “I know things between us — they didn’t end well, but I’m here for you. We both are,” she added, looking back at Oliver.

Oliver’s own words of comfort died on his lips when Tommy’s mouth twisted into something like a sneer. “A united front, just like the old days. I can see that’s not the only thing you coordinated. So how long after the breakup did that take?”

Oliver looked down. “What’s happened between Laurel and I is recent. It’s also not what today is about. You’ve lost your only family, and as your friends, we just want to support you.”

“Forgive me if I don’t really believe you, considering one more dead billionaire should just be another feather in your cap,” Tommy said. “Or hood, I guess.”

Oliver felt his heart stop for a single moment, and beside him, Laurel’s mouth dropped open. But he knew he had to try and deflect this — nothing about Tommy’s behavior right now said that confirming his suspicions was a good idea. If anything, Oliver’s own worst imaginings of his friend’s reaction were playing out in front of his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t try. I still have keys to the club. I’ve seen your little base of operations, Oliver.”

He had no idea what to say. That Tommy was essentially accusing him, and in front of a witness, what did that mean exactly? Was he planning to expose him?

“Oh, don’t mind Athena,” Tommy said, having followed his line of sight. “She’s my new partner. What I know, she knows.”

“You told her before even talking to Oliver?” Laurel didn’t bother to hide the outrage Oliver was beginning to feel beneath the shock and the panic.

“She’s been truthful with me unlike my supposed best friends,” Tommy shot back. “Were you ever planning to tell me, or were you waiting until my father was dead so I couldn’t warn him?”

“Tommy, your father was the humanitarian of the year,” Oliver reminded him. “He was never in any danger from the Hood.” It was the four of them only on the patio, yet he didn’t feel comfortable naming himself as the vigilante all the same.

Tommy eyed him, just the slightest bit of surprise on his face. “You really don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?”

But his friend shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. If you weren’t the one behind this, I’ll find out who was. Someone hired the Triad.”

That brought Oliver up short. In the aftermath of the attack, he had never really thought to pursue that angle. Why had Mr. Merlyn been targeted? Who had wanted him dead in the first place? Who stood to gain?

“We can help you with that,” Laurel offered, looking back at him once to check that she wasn’t stepping over a line. He quickly nodded. “Oliver has contacts, resources.”

“Thanks, but I have my own now.”

“Tommy,” Oliver began, but stopped. He hated having to ask this. It scared him to ask. “What are you going to do about…”

“About what I know? Nothing. I like being alive,” Tommy said coldly.

Oliver drew back a step. He had never wanted this, one of his loved ones to look at him with utter loathing and revulsion. Even if it was what he deserved.

“You could have just asked him not to come if that’s how you feel,” Laurel said, and he noted dimly that her hands were clenched into fists. She was ready to fight.

“It’s how I would have expected you to feel, given everything you used to believe in,” Tommy told her. “But he was always the exception, wasn’t he?”

“As it is, I believe you both should go,” the mysterious Athena said, walking up to Tommy’s side. Her voice was accented, but he couldn’t place the origin. “Thomas has guests and other matters to attend to.”

“That’s just fine.” Laurel turned and seized Oliver’s hand, marching him down the walk towards the front gates. She was seething, and Oliver didn’t know if her plan was to walk all the way back to his family’s home or to the Glades themselves.

“Let me call Digg,” he said, horrified to discover his voice sounded choked. Oliver blinked, and moisture gathered at the corners of his eyes. He had known and feared since the night he had failed to save Malcolm what Tommy’s reaction might be. The reality was worse than anything he could prepare for.

Laurel waited for him to place the call, then stepped into his space and pulled him into a hug after he had put his phone away. He folded around her, needing this comfort more than ever. How could his oldest friend have changed so much? Or had Oliver simply been the one to change, and it was too much for Tommy to handle?

“We need to know more about this Athena,” he decided after an unknowable time. Wherever she had come from and why, she was exerting a powerful influence on Tommy that worried him. He had to know what her aim was, if only for his peace of mind regarding his friend.

---

He had thought he would feel some sense of satisfaction or vindication. He didn’t.

Instead, Tommy had more questions than answers once again, a feeling he hated. If Oliver truly hadn’t known his father’s identity, then who had the Triad been working for that night? Who were they still working for?

Athena was convinced his father’s death was no accident or the result of a complication. “The waters I gave you are infallible. They heal, they do not cause further harm. Someone else must have acted to ensure your father’s demise.”

One of the people his father recruited. Probably they were inside the manor right now, playing the part of a mourner. It made his blood boil.

He retreated to his father’s office with Athena. It was high time to go through the files on what his father had called the Undertaking in full. It had waited too long already. Had he known the person behind the attack at the award ceremony would strike again, he wouldn’t have put it off. He could have saved his father. But he had always been a disappointment, hadn’t he?

I won’t fail you now, dad, Tommy thought to himself.

What truly interested him in the files was a folder his father had labeled Insurance. There he found documents detailing the crimes of each member of Starling City’s high society Tommy had always thought of as his father’s inner circle. Carl Ballard’s record of tax evasion; a voice recording of Robert Queen, confessing to involuntary manslaughter; and most importantly of all, Frank Chen’s connections to and dealings with the Triad.

“Shall I apprehend Mr. Chen?” Athena asked.

“Wait until everyone has gone home. I don’t want people thinking his disappearance is connected to my father.” Not yet, anyway. He wanted the facts before he did anything that might affect his father’s reputation, not when it was all he had left.

“Then I will go and prepare a site for the interrogation. I will inform you of the details.”

Tommy nodded, then wandered back down the hall towards the main room where the low murmur of voices waited. An interrogation. Since when had this become his life?

He supposed it had always been this way. Ever since he was eight years old, at least, and his mother had been ripped away from them. He had been shielded from the majority of the violence that surrounded them ever since, but it had never meant it wasn’t present. He just hadn’t been paying attention. He would have to work hard at catching up.

“Tommy, there you are,” said a familiar voice, and he found himself being hugged again, this time by Thea Queen. Sweet Thea, so innocent to everything happening around her the way he had once been. He pitied her and envied her in turn. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m fine, Thea. It’s not my first time losing a parent.”

“Yeah,” she agreed glumly. “Me neither. We, uh, just got the news the other night that Walter… he wasn’t taken. He’s gone.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, because it was the thing to say. He supposed he felt badly for her. Walter Steele had been more her father than Oliver’s, at any rate. But she still had her mother and brother, assuming the latter didn’t get himself killed out there on his ridiculous crusade.

“If you ever need to come over and like be around people, you know you can do that, right? You’re like family.”

“That’s kind of you, Thea. But I’ll be fine.” He left the young woman behind, his eyes scanning the room. It appeared Chen had already left. A guilty conscience? He’d know soon enough.

Athena called him late in the afternoon and relayed the address she had brought Chen to. When Tommy walked into the empty building — one of Hunt’s abandoned projects since his company had pretty much dissolved with his death — Athena was waiting with Chen bound to a chair, a black sack over his head. He nodded to her, and she ripped it off.

As Chen shook himself and blinked in the sudden light, Tommy slowly stepped forward. He wanted the man to see him now, to know what this was truly about.

Chen’s questioning gaze left Athena, and his eyes widened as he took Tommy in. “Tommy? What is this?”

“I think you know exactly what this is, Frank. The humanitarian award ceremony. Why did you hire the Triad to attack my father at it?”

Chen’s face had gone slack with despair as each word was spoken. “I didn’t.”

“You’re lying.” It was as if people thought he was born yesterday. Well, Tommy Merlyn had woken to the ways of the world now, and he wasn’t going to be made the fool ever again.

“I didn’t hire them! I only—”

“Only what?”

“Please, Tommy. You are not your father,” Chen begged. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Oh, I won’t be doing anything,” Tommy promised. “Athena’s going to take care of that for me.”

A vicious grin rose on her lips as she withdrew a dagger from her belt. Athena held it up to the light, studying Tommy for a few moments before turning sharply on her toes to cut Chen across the cheek. The man cried out, and Tommy swallowed while shoving his hands into his pockets not to show them trembling. Chen would do better to talk; Tommy didn’t want to watch him be tortured, but he needed the information he had more.

“What was your role in the attack!”

“I only… I gave her the right number to call.”

“Her?” There were two women in this Tempest, as the group had apparently called itself. Councilwoman Pollard and Mrs. Queen.

Chen’s eyes were on the ground. “Moira. It was Moira’s idea.”

He froze. “Mrs. Queen?”

“Yes. After the Hood’s attack on her, she decided things were getting too dangerous. She wanted out, and she was convinced that Malcolm… that your father’s death was the only way to achieve that.”

Tommy stood there, unable to say another word. Mrs. Queen had done this? The woman had been something of a mother to him since he had lost his own, as much as he had allowed her to be.

“She chose the location and the time for the assassination. When it did not work as intended, she told me that would be the end of it. That we would wait and see.”

“And did she?” He couldn’t stop his voice from shaking, but Tommy didn’t mind that so much. It was in anger, not fear, and he thought Chen could sense that. “Wait?”

“I do not know. I tried to ask her today at the memorial, but she would tell me nothing. If she acted, something must have changed. I can’t think what that would be, other than her husband.”

“Walter?” What did Walter have to do with any of this?

Chen looked up, his brow furrowed. “Yes. Malcolm was holding him. You- you do know what he was doing, what he was planning? You can’t agree with it, Tommy. Please.” Chen leaned forward a little, only to shrink back when Athena moved the knife under his neck. “You must see it is madness.”

His father had been holding Walter hostage. Thea had said they had received the news that Walter had died. But how could that be if his father hadn’t even been conscious?

He needed to know what had happened to Walter Steele. Tommy turned to Athena. “Keep him here.” Then he marched back out to his car.

He went to the penthouse office rather than the house for expediency's sake. Tommy knew it was only down to how organized his father had kept things that he was able to find what he was looking for. A live feed to a dark room containing one living occupant: Walter Steele.

He was alive. Which meant his father had died for nothing at all.

Tommy was speeding back down the streets to get back back to the abandoned building, his mind so caught up in his anger and grief that he did not notice at first that the siren going off behind him was for him. With an irritated snarl, he pulled over and smacked his hand on the steering wheel as he waited for the officer to take his good, sweet time.

“Sir, are you aware you were going fifteen over the speed limit tonight?”

“Are you aware that I don’t actually give a shit?” He glared up at the man who gulped upon seeing his face. “Are you really going to give a man a ticket the night he had to lay his father to rest, Officer Brock?”

“No, Mr. Merlyn. Just, uh, just wanted to make sure you were driving safe.”

He smirked. “Thanks.” Tommy waited just long enough for the officer to step back before peeling away from the curb.

His fists were clenched tight enough he could feel his nails digging into the skin by the time he returned to find Athena standing guard over Chen while sharpening her knife. He slammed the side of his fist against the wall. “Walter Steele is still alive! So why did she do it?”

“I- I don’t know. I would tell you if I did.” The blood from his cut had dried on his cheek, a couple droplets staining the white collar of his shirt.

“If this man is useless to us, I can dispose of him and acquire the woman,” Athena offered, and Chen shuddered.

“No,” Tommy said. “Not yet. Mrs. Queen — Moira,” he corrected himself. She no longer deserved the respect. “Is a special case. We’ll need to be careful.”

The moment she was taken, Oliver would act. Oliver made this whole thing far more complicated than it needed to be, and the fact that his mother’s entire assassination plan had been precipitated by Oliver’s attack on her was all the more infuriating. If not for Oliver, his father would be alive!

There could be no physical harm brought against Moira Queen unless her son wasn’t an issue. And Tommy wasn’t sure he wanted to test Athena against Oliver. She claimed to be an elite fighter and had displayed a number of skills casually enough that he believed her, but the Hood had fought off impossible odds time and again this year. He had survived Tommy’s father, even. Striking out against Oliver would attract Laurel’s ire in turn as well, and while she was nowhere near the threat that Oliver presented, Tommy knew if it came to it, he could not harm her. Not physically.

But Moira was guilty. In her case, he might not have found himself so squeamish as to his father and Athena’s old ways. It just meant he would have to get creative, was all. One way or another, Moira Queen would receive retribution. This boiling rage inside of him would never cease unless she did.

“She just wanted the Undertaking to end,” Chen begged. His voice sounded a little hoarse. It had probably been hours since he had water. “The threats against our families—”

“If you wanted the Undertaking to be over, you would have turned my father over to the authorities. But you didn’t want your precious lives to be ruined by your own part in his plan,” Tommy told him coldly. “That’s what we’re all about in the elite high society circles, aren’t we? Appearances. Don’t try to pretend you cared what was going to happen to the Glades.”

“But you care. You’re not- you’re young, Tommy. You have your whole life ahead of you. You’re an innocent in all this. You don’t have to continue what Malcolm started.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

Athena looked at him sharply, but Tommy ignored her for the moment. She would see what he meant. An idea was slowly starting to form in his mind, something that might take care of his revenge on Moira and the matter of those earthquake devices sitting at Unidac Industries…

“Because you’re right. I’m not like my father.” Tommy paced away from Chen as he spoke. “My father cared about the Glades. Whatever you think of his methods, he wanted them to improve. You could even say he and the Hood were alike in that way.”

When he turned around to look, Chen was staring at him open-mouthed, stuck as if unsure whether to keep up his pathetic pleading. Athena was watching him, and he could not decide if she was doing so cautiously or curiously.

“I’m not,” Tommy announced plainly. “I have no grand plans or compassion for the Glades or its people. I’ve known since I was eight years old they can’t be saved. So I’m not going to.”

“Thomas.” Athena jerked her head towards the hallway. Tommy scowled, but followed her out. “You said you would uphold your father’s legacy.”

“And I will. But dad… nothing in his plans accounts for people who may work in, but not live in the Glades. Glades Memorial hospital is still open. The beat cops that patrol at night. It’s too imprecise, and I’m not comfortable with it. Should you really be?”

Athena blinked at him, the closest to surprised he had ever seen her.

“You told me you were going against what the people who taught you and my father stood for. We don’t have to do that. We can do things their way, seek their help.”

She frowned. “The League itself is weak. The Demon Head grows old, and has failed to secure a worthy line of succession. But I can teach you their ways and principles on my own.”

“Alright.” He didn’t mind the idea of training, in all honesty. Once he had gotten his revenge on Moira, he would be making an enemy of Oliver. Knowing how to defend himself was crucial.

“What of your father’s killer?”

“I have a plan for her.” The beginnings of one, at the least. He would need to perfect the details before he moved forward with it, but once he did, he wondered if his father might have been proud in some small measure. “We don’t need Chen any more.”

“I will need to silence him,” Athena said, in a tone that allowed no argument. “He is duplicitous and knows you will be moving against Moira Queen. He cannot warn her in advance, or you will lose her.”

She was right. And who was to say if Moira learned what he knew that Tommy wouldn’t find himself with a poisoned bullet in his chest next? Chen had Triad ties. That made him just as dirty as any of the people Oliver had killed this year. Probably more so. Why should he mourn a man who was party to his own father’s murder?

He drew in a breath through his nose and nodded. “Do it.”

Athena nodded back and slipped back into the room. Tommy turned and walked away down the hall, hearing the muffled thump of a body hit the floor. He knew what that sound was ever since he’d watched his own father fall.

It wasn’t retribution, not just yet. But it was close. And it wouldn’t be much longer now.

[ashestospace]

[Roses] Grell Sutcliff x Male!reaper reader

@art by me

WARNING RIGHT OVER HERE, READ PLEASE

Grell is trans in here, Since that how interpreted her character. I will use she/her pronounce for Grell. so if you either don't respect that she is trans in this one-shot or that she does go by being a female and being bi as well then don't read. And please be respectful about this I will not stand any transphobic comments. As well that the reader will be male in here since all reapers are male. So if you don't like it don't go any further. 

YOU BEEN WORN BUT ENJOY _____

it's been a long night, too long for your taste especially. Even though you are done reaping the souls you got assign to, your partner on the other hand....uuuhh wasn't really in her game on finishing her part of the job. you sigh deeply as you looked over to the redhead mopping in a corner of the rooftop you two were on. you walked over to her and sat down next to her. "Grell" you began as you didn't glance at her, waiting for a response just to be met with silence as she kept sniffing away her tears as she holds onto her knees. you sigh again as you push your hair back in slight annoyment. Most people who ever interacted with Grell would find her unbelievably annoying by how dramatic and self-center the reaper is. But you in the other hand somehow found all her little antics amusing to say at least. you had worked with her countless times as a punishment by Williams as he forces you to keep sharp eye on her. Since one way or another, she seems to always run after a certain demon.

You let out a small scuff at this, of course! this might be why she's been mopping around again. She must have gotten rejected once again by the demon, or even William. She would normally throw herself on your desk after each rejection. Exclaiming how horrible each man treated her. Say at least it bothers you she came to you to complain about them. You wanted her to come after you not them. You didn't know when it started, the so-called attraction over the redhead reaper but here you were ignored and push to the side by her since the first day you met years ago. She never glances over you, never flirted with you as she did with everyone else. You just seemed to be nothing but a shoulder for her to cry on. "Grell..." you said again slightly annoyed by her lack of response. she shifted away from you, this was not normal; shes usually more vocal of her problems. but this just burns your blood even more as you place a hand on her shoulder and made her face you. "damn it, Grell! we have work to do here! I'm not doing overtime because of you again! stop crying over those Stupid men already and get to work!" you raise your voice, her hair flowing slowly off her face to reveal puffy eyes. You almost choked back the lump in your throat, she looked beautiful even while crying. At least that you thought, but her painfull expression stings your un-beating heart. she slaps your hand away as she stood up in a hurry.

"Don't you touch me! it's not because of that!" she exclaims while her hand clench on her chest. You stood up as well, "then what is it huh??? why the hell are you crying over that you won't even talk to me!" you threw your hands up to the sky in frustration. her cheeks puff up red as she looked away. this wasn't like her, she would normally be up on your face in seconds if you ever talk to her like this. "well?!?!" you scream waving your arms around. "UGH! YOU WON'T UNDERSTAND OKAY??!?!?" She screams her heart out, marching over as she presses a finger against your stone-like chest. " YOU won't understand! a man like you won't understand! nobody will understand!" she shoved you harshly while tears roll down her face. "no matter how hard I try I wi-will never really be a real w-woman.." she hiccups in a whisper. you were taken back at this, from all things you didn't expect this. Sure you knew she was trans, of course, you knew since all Reapers are men. But you never thought this was eating her up inside. From the opposite, you thought she was so secure with who she was. "Grell,.." you whisper out as you stare at her. " Just leave me alone Y/n!" she turns around and sprinted away. There you were left behind, staring to where she ran away with regret feeling you in.

"Huh, what do you mean my works done?!" Grell exclaim as she slams her hands on Williams's desk. The male didn't look up as he kept writing on some papers. " I said your work is done as well your overtime as you finish all of it yesterday" he announces. " I thought you'll be glad about it Grell" he quirks an eyebrow up at the reaper. "but-but I d-" the doors open behind them. " I heard the news and had to see it for myself!!" Ronald exclaim while he drags you along into Williams Office. " Did Grell really finish his wor-" "hers" you practically his out at the male.Grell blinks several times as her jaw drops to the floor. " that he did-" "HER get it right or I'm knocking the wind out of you two" you threaten with a clenched fist at their direction. " excuse me?" William said towering over your figure. you moved back sweating bullets. " I me-mean great! we finish our work! time to go! bye, boss" you quickly hold into Grell's arm and hurry out. you scurry out and into your own office in seconds. you lean on against the door. " that was a close one..." you mumble out with smiling at the redhead. She only stares at you with shock in her face still processing what happened. "w...what..Why would you do all my work?!" she exclaims as she pointed at you angrily. You rolled your eyes as you made your way over your desk to grab something under it. " a thank you would have been nicer" you walked over to her, hiding what it was behind your back. " but I guess I don't deserve it with how I talk to you last night so.." you pulled a bouquet of roses and handed it to her. " I'm truly sorry Grell I hope you can forgive this silly man.," you said with a faint blush on your face. Once again her jaw drops, her cheeks burning up to be the same color as her hair. tears suddenly threaten to fall off her face. "w-why..why are you..." you choked on her tears as she looked down while holding the roses. "Cause you don't deserve to feel alone and bad about yourself, Grell you are a beautiful lady..and hard to admit it now...but I adore you, I love you even if I must confess now. That I know that even though I'm no one in your heart, you are all in mine" you whip her tears away. her lips quiver as she holds into the hand on her cheek. "but i-am, not a real w-" you quickly close the gap between each other. capturing her lips as you kiss her gently. your face burning up to your ears. pulling away to plan several small kisses in almost a breathy desperation. "hush will you, yes you are... You are far the most beeeeeautiful woman I ever lay my eyes on. so just let me adore you like no other will?" you almost begged in your tone as you nuzzle your nose against. a small toothy like grin rose to her face, her face beating red as you place the roses away on your desk and pull you in closer. "well y/n...you might need to prove it to me first.." she breathes out against your lips. you smirk back at this " you have no clue how long I waited for that..."

[red-butler]

Kuro Ladies Appreciation Week - An

Our tragic Jack the Ripper has her turn to shine!

This fic could be set in the same verse as my other An/Grelle piece, exploring how they met and came to their agreement. This piece looks at a short interaction they shared about a year after their meeting.

Summery:

One year after the Phantomhive fire and An is musing over how much her life has changed; both for the better and for the worse. Contemplating this she comes to an uncomfortable realisation and makes a decision which has consequences she could never have forseen. Our tragic Jack the Ripper has her turn to shine!

tw: suicide mention/murder mention/thoughts on dissection/Victorian attitudes towards prostitition/execution mention

The setting sun was slanting through the French windows, lazily setting the library aflame with a deep glowing red light. A crackling fire, the quiet tick of a clock and the lazy turning of the occasional page were the only sounds intruding on An’s bliss. She lifted her gaze from watching the last of the sunlight sweep across the dark polished floor and caught the semi amused look of Grelle, still in their damnably decent butler uniform but sprawled across a chair in a positively decadent manner, leafing unhurriedly through a book of Shakespeare’s plays and watching An with languid interest.

“See something that interests you darling?”

An laughed, something that a mere year ago she would have thought was impossible. How much a life could change in a year, from being a happily married expectant mother with a wonderful family, to being alone in the world, to having an nephew who was hurting and broken, but was still there, who she could still love, if only from afar now and having this wonderful aching love filling her for the impossible woman currently smirking at her from across the room. A year ago she had been a doctor, dreaming of curing asthma for her sister and nephew, now she was a vigilante, punishing the worst criminals for their actions and cleansing the streets from their vile deeds.

“Simply thinking Grelle.”

“Oh? And what thought has got my lady so aflutter!” Grelle beamed, dropping the book to the floor and turning to face An more fully. “Can this humble butler assist her beautiful mistress in any capacity?”

“Grelle! You are far from that!”

“What? Humble? Well, when one is as magnificent as myself it can be hard to deny it...”

“No my dear. You are far from a butler. I believe one has to actually be good at their job to be considered that.”

“Rude!”

An laughed again, she couldn’t help it, Grelle just looked so indignant, as though she hadn’t been the one to trip down the stairs while carrying a tray of champagne glasses and managed to soak a very charming and handsome man An had been flirting with...actually on second thoughts that may have been deliberate.

“Well, to be honest I was thinking over how much my life has changed since I met you.”

“For the better I would hope.” Grelle’s sharp teeth flashed in a quick smile as she once again lifted her book, obviously deciding this conversation wasn’t going to lead to an opportunity for any interesting activities.

“Granted it would have been difficult for my life to get worse at that point, but yes, you’ve changed my life for better my love.”

The Reaper smiled again and buried herself back in her book, leaving An once again to her thoughts. The deep red sunlight had faded to night by now, gentle stars beginning to appear outside the window, the autumn air still warm enough for the windows to be left open this late.

Grelle had changed her life for better certainly, but now a new twisting fear was rising up within her. Life could change so swiftly and irrevocably. An would never be able to predict where her life would be in the future, not now knowing how little time it took for things to change to the point of unrecognisability. In another year's time, what would her life be like? Almost unwillingly she found her eyes flicking over towards where a discarded newspaper lay on a low table, the front page news discussing a murdered woman found in the East End. No suspects or clues had been found of course, but it was yet another uncomfortable reminder that her life was so precarious right now.

What would happen when-if she was caught? She was doing the right thing, An told herself firmly, she was doing a good thing and the whores who she killed deserved it for their immoral and cruel behaviour, but the world wouldn’t see it like that. She didn’t want to die. She had things to live for now, her work, Ciel, the joy of parties and the social life of London and most importantly her blood red Reaper. She wanted to live so she could spend the rest of her lifetime with Grelle! Even if Grelle couldn’t spend the rest of her life with An, being an immortal divine being, An didn’t begrudge her that, An would be content to spend a single human lifetime with her.

But if a single human lifetime was too short...what about a lifetime that ended after a few years of joy and love together? Would Grelle forget her quicker? An sighed, looking away from the woman who held her heart in beautifully manicured hands and tried to think of something else. She wanted to spend forever with Grelle, she would be content with spending a whole lifetime with Grelle, but she feared losing Grelle as quickly as she gained her if the police ever caught the Ripper. Not that they would, the police were practically incompetant it seemed!

But Ciel had begun taking an interest in the spate of murders. An was careful to limit her activities, to try and change up the times and locations, and Grelle of course was the best help one could have, able to get through locked doors and remove evidence An would never even have noticed. And yet...sometimes An woke up with the imaginary feel of a rough rope around her neck, with the certain knowledge she was going to die an ignominious painful death and then have her body thrown to the surgeons for dissection. Possibly those same surgeons she worked with. The idea of her own colleagues chopping her open, judging her...death as a criminal was awful.

The nervousness was twisting further through her chest now and An found herself rising to her feet and pacing over to the curtains. She pulled the windows shut, and tugged the curtains across; shutting out the night and the dangers it posed, the temptation to go out onto the streets and hunt, the deep seated terror of being caught and separated from her Grelle forever more, the quiet melancholy of loss countered by the heady excitement of everything she had gained. She shut it all out and looked around her warm, comfortable library, lit with firelight and with her beloved Grelle safe and well beside her.

“What’s wrong An?”

“Nothing, nothing…”

How could she admit her worries to Grelle? She couldn’t tell her that An was scared of dying, not to someone who had already passed on. She couldn’t say she was afraid that Grelle would forget her if they didn’t spend long enough together without insulting Grelle and suggesting that Grelle was flighty or irresponsible.

“It doesn't look like nothing, you’re pacing darling.” Grelle pointed out, not looking up from their book but clearly aware of An moving restlessly around the room, stopping to look in the fire, run her fingers along shelves of books, twitch back a curtain to look at the twilit sky…

“I’m simply…” An bit her lip and shook her head. “The newspaper story…”

“You’re still worrying about that? An love, I’ve told you I’ll keep you safe.”

“I’m not worried about the police, you’re far too brilliant for that-” An suppressed a sudden quick smile as Grelle practically preened at the compliment- “but if Ciel gets involved, he has resources available to him that the police don’t and if I do get caught-”

She cut off her words quickly, the fear back again and stronger than before, a tangled vine choking her, drawn as tight as a noose around her neck. Grelle was looking at her questioningly as An tried to bite back the words before they could spill out and ruin everything.

“I don’t want to be hanged.” She admitted, fixing her eyes on the books in front of her. Now that she’d admitted it the words felt easier, almost rushing out of her. “I don’t, I want to do the work, it’s important and necessary, to cleanse the streets; but I know the world will brand me a criminal if I’m ever caught and I’ll be sentenced to death...I don’t mind the death-” only half a lie that really - ”but I don’t want to be hanged, to be humiliated like that, to die as a common criminal, dispassionately-”

She cut off with a gasp as she felt arms wrap around her, relaxing into the reassuring hold of her lover. Grelle’s scent filled her senses as she turned to bury her face in the Reaper’s shoulder, eternally endlessly grateful that she had her, that Grelle was here and loved her and wasn’t going to leave her…

“I just want to be with you always Grelle.”

“Oh my love…” Grelle’s arms tightened around her and An basked in the attention and love from the glorious woman who had fallen into her life like a blazing comet of beauty and heady dangerous excitement. The two of them stayed like that, wrapped in one another’s arms and comforting the other. It wasn’t until evening had deepend into true night and the sounds of the city outside had faded to almost silence that they moved again. Grelle tilted her head to one side, her long hair brushing against An’s cheek.

“Is it the death you fear? Or the manner of death?”

“The manner of death.” An answered immediately. “The only regret I have about dying would be leaving you and Ciel.” Grelle hummed in response, seeming to think something over. When they next spoke their words were hesitant and quiet, as though they were desperately trying to not cause offense.

“If-if we ever do end up in a situation where it seems we cannot get out-” she started, “then...well if the manner of death is what scares you, I could make sure that you would never go to hang.”

It took An a moment to understand what Grelle was suggesting, that the Reaper would slay An herself rather than allowing her to be taken away as a criminal. Her initial reaction was hurt and rage, how could Grelle even think about killing her, didn’t she love An? How could you murder the person you loved! But that outrage vanished the moment An saw the genuine worry in Grelle’s eyes. This wasn’t the Reaper throwing aside a human accomplice who had failed her, this was Grelle offering An a way out that would give her an element of dignity, would save her the crushing shame of being branded a criminal and hanged in disgrace. So An twisted her fingers tighter into the back of Grelle’s butler uniform and considered the offer as objectively as she could.

Would it be better to die by Grelle’s hand than the noose? She would be dead either way but...the noose was so impersonal and cold. Grelle would kill her out of love, not disgust. She would die side by side with the woman she loved so dearly, without enduring the mockery and scorn of her peers. Put it like that and the answer seemed so obvious.

“Would it hurt?”

“For you? Never. As quick and easy as taking a breath.” Grelle promised, holding An even closer.

“Then yes. Grelle my love, my blood red ruby rose. Don’t you let them take me alive.” An said, a new note of fierceness in her voice. In response Grelle released her from the embrace and dropped to her knees in front of An, holding her hands and gazing up at the human in adoration.

“Yes my lady.”

[sebastians-thotties]

Cunt means family by: The sebastian’s thotties discord server

Summary:

im so sorry

this is legitimately horrible PLEASE dont read this

Notes:

A thanks for everyone in my Sebastian's Thotties Discord server, as well as everyone that runs it's Tumblr account!

This horrendous, disgusting, somehow plot-concurring fic was written by:

- sweets (https://sweetsnteaa@tumblr.com/) - claude (https://claudescrustytoe.tumblr.com/) - saturn (https://saturnberry.tumblr.com/) - pimply (https://undertakers-pimply-dick.tumblr.com/) - stale (https://stale--baguette.tumblr.com/)

and whoever else i don't remember because everyone was on anon when we were working in the fic together in google docs!!!!

LINK TO THE AO3 VER: 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22011355/chapters/52527664

-mod sweets 

Twas a cold caturday morning when our darling sebby woke up, with a cold, big thick ass pastel cock up his ass, “How odd, "he exclaimed, "I don’t know anyone rich enough to leave you here, “ he said, caressing it’s thicc lengthy shaft with his twink fingers.

They must be rich since they seem to have dildos to spare; still leaving this lovely one here what a waste of good dick . under the right circumstances this lovely dicc would’ve went to the right college, married a lovely waifu and had half a dozen brats. “Ah but alas, " The raven-haired mess exclaimed, “ It ended up cold, alone and covered in shit in my phat ass who’s cheek claps can be heard from miles away…...how tragic. ”

Now struggling to hold back the tears,“If only there was a lovely older onii-chan type man to love me manly enough to make me wet yet feminine enough to wear a short dress that BARELY covered his wrinkly ass - revealing his butthole in its 30 years, unshaven sexiness BUT I KNOW NONE! “ Now sobbing into his velvet bed sheets with his perfect twink face buried into said sheets, he couldn’t help but take a deep breath.

Breathing in the smell of his past lovers it must be noted that it’s easy to smell them because he doesn’t wash it but I digress, ashy washy landers, Brendon urine, the big bad wolfram,  and snoop dogg the fifth, he couldn’t help but let out an audible moan at the thought of the last one he and his masculine frame AH ! just the thought of him sent seb into a world of pleasure and ecstasy ! his thick Egyptian accent, his tones chest, his amazing rapping skills the way he nibbled on seb’s neck and ear whispering sweet nothings in the devil's ear “ how ya doing lil ma let me whisper in yo ear …..” Ah ! how irresistible . now THAT was a man!   he lets out a sigh why yes ...WAS a man ...WAS MY man but not anymore he lets out a muffled cry why? why did you leave me? he silently questions was it because I was too loose ? was it my multiple sugar daddies? me fucking his dad on our wedding night? that couldn’t be it! no one would get mad over something s o trivial it couldn’t have broken them up! Their bond was too strong!

“My, whatever do you mean?” A voice came from the nearby closet. It was Tanaka, in his skinty, flabby, glory, wearing nothing but a short dress that BARELY covered his wrinkly ass - revealing his butthole in its 30 years, unshaven sexiness.  “I thought you knew me, sebas-chan~~~~~ ?”

The old man smiled, waving his ass six feet off the ground for sebascunt to see. “I got all ready for you~~~~ arent you~~~~ EnTiCed~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~? OwO!”

As everything was unfolding, Undertaker was watching from under the bed. His toes curling in excitement as he heard Tanaka's phat ass clapping AND EXPELLING HOT LUBE as he walked towards Sebastian. He quickly changed into his sluty maid outfit and brushed his greasy lice-ridden pubes fosebastianba

Tnaksa gasped, upon seeing Undertaker crawling from under the bed, his piss-filled pubes on display. “O-h!!!!!!! Undie-chan!!!!!!!!!!!1 what are you doing here, baby>??? U said u wouLD be wiv me prIVATELY tomorrow night when mY furry costume was ready!!!!!!!11” He asked Underfucker, clearly shocked that he was THERE.

"My b-bby I could n-not wait for your sexiness,,,,," undertaker muttered as shakedked his ass as lice and cockroaches shed from it.

Sebastslut gasped upon seeing the weenerroaches. “nYA!!!!!!!!1 UNDERDERTAKE4FR WHERE DID U GET THAT FROM!!! They’re my favorite~~~ form of lube~~~~.”

Undertaker blushed as he looked over to Sebastain, "Bby,,,how could I forget our nights of passion???" Undertaker excitedly said.

“Oh dear, I LOVED it when you took me anally, all those years ago,  during the black plague . . . because of you, my insides have never been the same - they’re FILLED TO THE BRIM with magGots~~~” Sebastwian moaned, sexily creeping his way towards his baby daddy, Underfaker.

Then appeared Claude, who watched creepily from the window. His three-headed dick jumped with excitement seeing the sexy commotion, and his eyes darted around the room, first seeing tanakas sexy as fuck ass with all of the sweaty old man juices ravishing the hair. “Oh, mama Mia what a man,” he exclaimed. He clenched his asscheeks in his brand new sebby Chan underwear, “I feel like a weeb school girl watching her favorite anime. Today’s a perfect day for a big summer BLOW out! "he snickers, his three penis heads dancing like a sugar plum fairy.

Just then, Grell joined outside the adjacent window. She was dressed in a sparkly thong and lacy thigh highs, a devious grin shown on her currently bloody lips.

You see, she had only just come back from consuming the pussies of the innocent, which consisted of, quite literally eating pussy . . .   like spaghetti in a fancy restaurant, and having a business meeting with Garfield about the latest shipment of his favorite lasagna. So, now she was looking for new victims . . . Wait, did I say victims?

I meant lovers .

Grell silently slipped into the room, her coochie on display for all to see as she pulled her scythe -shit-covered- from her perky ass. “Hi baby s ~~~~~~` I came for soME~~~~~ COOCHIIE EATING! "

Sebastian looked up from sucking Undertaker’s rotting toenails, his period-blood red eyes wide with shock. “G-Grell-chan???? What~~! Are you doing here~?”

She smiles while grabbing her left titty and stretching it out like a spring, pulling it so she could suck it like a lollipop. "Want some, slutdaddy?”

Sebastian gasped at the lady, his 10-mile long wiener suddenly growing very, VERY HARD. - even harder than when undertaker had taken his virginity 32499484984238042 years prior. “Yes please~~~ momY !~~! Give it to me hard -!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1”

“Give it to you hard, mate???? How she gonna give ya what you need, slUT~” a voice suddenly asked, coming from the door.

Everyone on the room GASPED in utter shock, upon finally getting to see who it was…..Baldroy…

There he was, standing in the doorway, his MASSIVE, JUICY, PENIS ON DISPLAY FOR EVERYONE TO SEE, SO FUCKING LONG THAT IT WAS LAYING ON THE FLOOR.

“I’ll get you good, mate~” Bard puurrreeeed, licking his crusty, unbrushed teeth with a cocky smile.

He wrapped his arm around Sebastian, licking eyeballs as sebastian MOANED in pleasure. “Please~~~~~~~~~~ mate~~~~~~~ ditch grell. She can never eat your pp like I could~~~”

Practically unable to contain himself any longer, Sebastian nodded, drool escaping his mouth like it was a fucking waterfall.

He crawled to bard, wagging  his PHATT ASS in the air as he waited for entrance. “Daddy….pLEASE!”

Sebasslut moaned pitfully, smiling as he continuously brushed up aganist bard’s snake of a cock, all while everyone watched in shock, hands on their own weiners and coochies, unable to stop themselves any longer.

“Do you take requests~?” Claude asked, hissing like Grell just stepped on his frog feet (which she did, btw).

Whipping his head around, seb gave him a nod and an approving jIGGLE JIGGLE of his flabby, tHICC emo e-boy ASS. “Come and ask spider legs, and you~~~~~~~~~” he blinked (he was trying to wink, but as we all know, simple tasks for sebastian never quite work out well), showing off his balls.

“Can you~~~~~~~~ please eat undertakers greasy, mOIST hair~?” Claude begged an evil smirk on his lips.

Sebastard nodded, grinning as undersucker cackled in delight, shoving his sweat-filled pubes in Sebastian’s not-virgin mouth.

Just then, after about 3 hrs of struggle (and some bloodcurdling screams), Bard had FINALLY managed to shove his 50-yard long weewee in sebayedn’s arse, resulting in a heart attack from the poor demon.

“OOOOOooOOoOHHHHHHHHHHHHHH YEA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!11 THERE GOES ME COCK,  YE FELLOW WEENIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” bard ROARED, laughing as he ruthlessly DESTROYED sebastian’s danity insides.

“aaaaAHHHHHHHHHHH DADDY BARD!!!! I CAN’T HANDLE YOUR SNAKE INSIDE ME!!!!”