#the maid outfit reigns supreme

[safewarmbubbly]

he’s thinking about his life choices right now.

[virgosahel]

Luz Appreciation Week 2022 - Day 5: Using the Noggin'

She can be a bi mess, but our girl Luz is not dumb. Let's celebrate her beautiful mind!

A Game of Reflexes

Eda could feel everyone’s eyes on her but she couldn’t let that distracted her. She needed to relax, focus and, most importantly, not to show any sign of stress. The stakes were too high.

“It’s your turn, Edaa~”

“I know, dang it, let me think!”

The witch continued to look at her cards. She tried to maintain a neutral expression but her sweaty brow betrayed her. Luz, on the other hand, was looking at her opponent from behind her cards with a mischievous grin.

“Thunder!” Eda shouted, drawing a card that figured a dark blue cloud; from it came out light blue bolts that were aiming to Luz’s deck.

“Glass shield!” One of the cards on Luz’s side of the table arose at the command and placed itself in front of the deck, protecting it.

Eda growled, while King, Owlbert and Hooty cheered Luz, that was now grinning much more than before. “What’s the matter? Can’t beat a ‘wittle baby’ like me?”

Eda clenched her jaw, because every replied she could think of was something that she shouldn’t say in front of King, no matter how she needed to release her anger. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to think what her next move could be.

She couldn’t let her win.

~Fifteen minutes before~

“I’m home!”

Luz entered in the living room expecting a crushing hug from King, but that never came. The demon in question was wearing a French maid uniform and was using a feather duster on the things put above the fireplace.

“… What’s going on?”

“Eda taught me a new game, and I think I’m winning!”

“And, just out of curiosity, how does the game work?”

“You dress as a monarch,” King said, pointing at his outfit, “then you choose a room to take as your domain. The one that as the most beautiful reign wins! Eda’s not even trying to win, her kitchen-reign is a mess!”

“Yeah, I can imagine that…”

Luz went through the kitchen door, and saw Eda sat on a chair with a little pink tiara in her hair. She was watching a show in the crystal ball while eating some Abomi–berry ice cream.

“Eda!” Luz exclaimed, crossing her arms. “Did you Tom Sawyered King?”

“I don’t know what that is,” Eda stuffed her mouth with a spoonful of ice cream, then she swallowed loudly, “but if it means that I smartly induced that kid to do what I wanted AND make it feel like he got what he wanted, then yes indeed.”

“And the costume?”

“Well, why leave all the fun just to King?”

Luz narrowed her eyes, frowning. “You’re incredible…”

“Well, thank you!”

“You know what I meant! We’ve split up the chores, and you must do your part!”

“Hey, I’m just doing my job as a tutor, teaching you ‘wittle babies’ how the world works.”

If she was angry before, then now Luz was furious.

“Oh, so we have to learn from you?”

“Exactly!”

Eda turned off the crystal ball and took it with her out of the kitchen, leaving Luz alone with her anger. She reached King, put the crystal ball with the other stuff that he just cleaned and gave him her tiara.

“Well King, you beat me, you’re the Supreme Ruler of the living room.”

While King celebrated his victory, Luz walked to the couch and flop down on it, glaring at Eda intensively. She looked at the scene she had before her eyes: Eda leaned on the fireplace, that was using the crystal ball as a mirror to take some food from her teeth, King dancing, jumping, and screaming ‘I’M THE CHAMPION OF EVERYTHING!’… And she had an idea.

“Hey Eda, how about a bet?”

“Uhm?” Eda turned around, with a finger still inside her mouth.

“Yeah, I mean, if I have to learn from you, better start right now, don’t you think?” Luz went out of the room and returned with two chairs. She pushed the coffee table at the center of the room with her leg, then placed the chairs at the ends of it. She sat down and looked at Eda, still with her back on the fireplace. “We’ll play a game: if I lose, I’ll do your chores for a month, and I’ll admit that you are the smartest witch of the Isles; but if you lose, you’ll do ALL the chores of the house for a week, and you’ll never exploit King with your tricks again.”

“Wait, what did she do?”

“Interesting…” Eda said, ignoring King. The stakes were very good. “I accept, but no made-up games.”

“I agree with you. What about… Hexes Hold’em?”

Eda laughed, clapping a hand on her leg. “What, you really think you can beat me at my game?”

“What’s the matter, are you scared?”

“Well, if you insist… but I don’t have a deck anymore”

“Oh, I’m sure that Hooty has one in his belly.”

~Present~

Hooty had a deck (and many other things), so they started playing. And now Eda was losing. Miserably. She didn’t know how, but Luz managed to block all her attacks. That she had learned a telepathy glyph?

“I think you can only make one moooove~”

She’s right. Dang it, when did the kid learn the rules so well?

Eda was desperate; and desperate times require desperate measures. The only way she could win know was to draw the wild card, but she couldn’t risk finding something else. She took a card, but without even looking at it she threw her hand behind her mane, like she was getting in position for tossing a ball toward the goal.

“Let me tell you Luz, you’re still in time to call off the bet.” Eda said, and at the same time, with her hidden hand, she switched the card with a spare wild card she carried in her hair; you know, as a lucky charm.

“Stop stalling and play!”

When she finally hid the other card in her hair, she slammed the card on the table.

“Wild car-”

“The Gatherer!”

Luz’s card hit the table before Eda’s. From it, a long, hooded figure appeared, that with his flute lured the wild card beside them.

“What’s that card?”

“That, my dear King, is the Gatherer card” Luz explained. “You can only use it once in the game, even if it’s not your turn, and has the ability to take control of the opponent’s card; you just need to have your reflexes ready to put it right before the other card. Now that I have the wild card…”

And just like that, the cards exploded, and an inscription made of fire appeared above their heads:

WINNER: LUZ

Eda was too stunned to be angry. Instead, she looked at the girl and, proud, bowed slightly.

“Well kid, you beat me, fair and square. How about celebrating with some cookies?”

“Yes!” King replied for Luz. “And you’ll clean all the dishes after!”

King jumped on Eda’s back and together they went to the kitchen, followed by Hooty. Luz was about to go too when she was stopped by Owlbert. She looked at him and saw that he was mad at her.

“What?”

He flew towards the fireplace and landed on the crystal ball. The clean, very shiny crystal ball.

“Hey, I had to! Otherwise, Eda would have never learned to not deceive the others. Besides,” Luz continued saying, watching at her reflection, “if Eda didn’t cheat, I couldn’t even look at her cards. I swear that I didn’t see any other card, she blocked the visual with her body.”

Owlbert didn’t seem too convinced, but when he heard King and Eda squabble about the flavor of the cookies he decided to give up. He flew toward the kitchen, followed by a smuggling Luz.

[painfullybadimagines]

Prisoner - Kylo Ren Imagine

Summary

Kylo Ren takes you as part of a bargain to leave your planet alone. he wants you to provide him with some information, but gets a lot more than he bargained for…

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Hinting at smut, use of the force and some roughness

*Not my gif

You watched as the ships entered your planets atmosphere, drawing a breath you turned and walked back inside. Your staff rushed past you looking panicked, as your eyes scanned the flurry of people in the main hall for your father. Spotting him over by the throne you headed over dogging people on your way.

Your maid stopped you in the hall, she was a squat, round old woman who had terrified you as a child but you had grown to like her as she had been there for you when you lost your mother.

“Oh gosh Y/n I told you to put on a dress!” she said putting her hands on her hips and looking at your appearance.

Your outfit would have been better suited to a prince than a princess, dark brown tight trousers and knee-high riding boots. The only thing that gave you a hint of femininity as well as your station was the embroidery on your white fitted cotton shirt.

“Well it will just have to do!” she said turning you around and quickly pulling the braid out of your long hair. As soon as she was done, she spun your back around and fluffed your wavy hair around your face. She looked at you and sighed. “Quick hurry, we don’t have much time. You need to be in the throne room.

She scurried away after she again looked at you and shook her head. You sighed and rolled your eyes before continuing your way to the throne room.

“They’re early then” you said walking up to the steps as he sat down on his throne and put his head in his hands.

“Yep they sure are” he replied looking up at you.

Your father was a strong man respected by his people; your planet had survived many ordeals over the years he had reigned. However, you had never seen him so tired so full of despair.

“What is it father?” you asked your tone concerned but laced with fear.

“The first order, they have threatened to burn our planet if we don’t show our allegiance to them” he said sitting back up in his chair and moving his eyes from you towards the flurry of people in the room that was slowly shrinking.

“Wait they don’t know about our dealings with the resistance, do they?” you asked your heart hammering.

“I don’t think so, but Kylo Ren himself is coming here to greet us so your guess is as good as mine.

“Well we are just going to have to pledge our allegiance to them then, I know that they’re the bad guys but we need to do everything we can to keep our people alive. They are our responsibility” you said holding your head up even though your heart was hammering with fear.

A small smile flashed across his face before disappearing before his eyes met yours again.

“I raised you well” he whispered, smiling again. “But we don’t know what the first order wants, what the price will be and if they find out or already know that we have had dealings with the resistance then there is nothing that we can do to stop them from blowing us out of the sky.” He finished his face now laced with sadness, his once bright eyes sunken into his face and his complexion pale.

You wanted to say something to comfort him to bring the happy man buried within him back to the surface. But you couldn’t find the words.

“Sire” came a voice, you turned to look at who had spoken, it was one of your father’s advisors.

“They’re here, should I send them in?” he said unable to meet you or your father’s eyes.

“Yes” your father boomed clicking his fingers.

The man nodded and walked towards the exit. You turned and walked over to the smaller throne on the right side of your father and sat down, your eyes fixed on the door at then end of the great hall.

“So, what do they want?” you asked in a hushed voice glancing over to your father before returning your gaze to the door.

“I don’t know they haven’t said” replied your father standing up as two men scurried into the room and placed the read regal cloak around your father’s shoulders before placing his ornate crown on his head. He sat back down in the chair taking up a more fierce and imposing posture than the slouched one he had before.

Once the men were done arranging the cape they walked out of the room.

“So they could just be here to tell us that they’re going to blow us up after all” you sighed.

“Well lets have a litte optimism, maybe they just want our ships or grain” he said trying to convince himself more than he was trying to convince himself.

“Yeah lets hope” you said shaking your head.

“And try not to think about the resistance, apparently he can probe peoples minds, think of anything but that. If you want to keep them safe you need to focus on something. For example the chipped tile over there or the frayed carpet, occupy your mind with anything but them” he said in a hushed and panicked whisper.

“Do you know how hard it is to not think about something?!” you asked wide eyed.

Your father was about to reply when the door creaked open and black masked figure lead backed by a group of four storm troopers stood at the entrance. The stopped with a groan and the group marched forwards into the throne room along the red carpet in the middle of the room. The small group was followed by a ginger haired man with an angry expression.

The group stopped just a foot from the first of 3 steps that lead up to where you and your father were sitting. There was silence for a moment as the masked figure seemed to stare at your father.

“Kind James” came the robotic voice, it made you shiver.

The figure seemed to notice as the mask turned towards you and then back to your father. You couldn’t help the expression of disgust that crept across your face. You loathed this man.

“Supreme leader” your father said bowing his head before looking back up at the figure.

Your eyes were darting between the two, the expressionless mask of Kylo Ren to the face of your father.

“We are here to let you pledge your allegiance to the First Order” came the squeaky voice of the unmasked man at the back of the group. The storm troopers parted and allowed the man to walk up and stand next to the man in the mask.

“Yes I know” said you father standing up and slowly descending the steps to stand in front of the two men. He got down on one knee and bowed his head again. “I pledge allegiance to the First Order.” He said dryly.

Your father was a master of his emotions, you had to be to be king. But even he could barely hide the disgust at the words that left his mouth. He rose and looked the two men in the eye, the ginger haired man had a small smile on his face seemingly happy with the situation.

“Well we accept your alleg-“started the man cut off by the booming voice of the masked man.

“NO!” he yelled making your father and the other man jump.

You swallowed looking from your father to the two men, unsure of what was going to happen next.

“Name your price” you father spoke unfazed by the outburst, you frowned before realising.

You watched in anticipation as the masked man stood there silent.

“We have an army, an abundance of ships and a great harvest along with-”

“Her” spoke the man pointing over at you.

The ginger man frowned in confusion and so did your father, you swallowed staring into the empty eyes of mask.

“What?” your father said out loud, clearly annoyed and confused.

“You heard him” said the ginger man composing himself and standing up straight. “Her or your planet burns”

You looked over at your father wide eyed.

“No” you father said his voice laced with venom as he thought to contain his anger.

“Very well” spoke the masked voice turning on his heel and beginning to walk away. “Hux send a message to the star base, tell them to charge the weapon”

The ginger man muttered a yes sir as your mind raced, you came to the sudden realisation of what was going to happen.

“Wait!” you yelled getting up from your seat and walking quickly to stand next to your father. ”We agree to your terms!”

The masked man froze and quickly turned to face you.

“What are you doing?” whispered your father as the two of you stared at the masked figure.

“My life for the life of everyone on this planet, that’s an easy decision to make” you whispered back clenching your jaw.

“I cant let you do that!” he said turning towards you, fear and concern in his eyes.

You didn’t look at him you couldn’t bear it, but you could feel his eyes on you. Following you as you walked towards the supreme leader. When you got to about 2 feet away from him two storm troopers fell into pace next to you and walked you past the masked figure.

“It was a pleasure doing business with you, Hux cancel that” he said to your father before turning on his heel and walking out of the great hall.

You were standing at the base of the ramp up to Kylos ship, the storm troopers had ordered you to stop. At the top of the ramp you could see Kylo Ren and the man you know knew as Hux arguing as you could see his face contort and grow redder by the second. Eventually Kylo said something that aphesed him as his face morphed into one of understanding and surprise before he indicated for you to be brought up the ramp by the two storm troopers.

One of them nudged you with the hilt of their gun to entice you to move, you stepped up onto the ramp and looked up at the masked figure waiting at the top. You swallowed, averted your eyes and continued walking until your eyes met the boots of the figure. I know what you are, he said waving his hand. Suddenly you were unable to move, and he looked you up and down before snapping his fingers. The world went dark.

He caught you as your unconscious body fell, scooping you up bridal style in his strong arms before turning and walking into the ship.

You opened your eyes and blinked rapidly, your head was fuzzy, and you felt a little sick. You sat up and rubbed your eyes and tried to get your stomach to stop churning. It felt like you had been hit with a ton of bricks. As the fog slowly drifted out of your head you noticed that you were sitting in a bed, it had black sheets and the room was dimly lit with a red glow.

“You’re with the resistance” came a deep voice somewhere off to your left.

It startled you, your eyes scanning the darkness for the owner of the voice. You hear the shuffle of fabric like curtains in the wind and a face stepped into the light. For a moment you were puzzled before you noticed the clothing and the cape.

“Kylo Ren” you whispered as you stared at him in awe.

His eyes were dark and his features angular but pleasing to the eye, offset by his mane of black wavy hair cascading around his face.

“Where are they?” he asked looking down at you, continuing his line of questioning.

His voice was deep and alluring, captivating you and making you hang off every word.

“I know you were helping them, where are they?” he continued, this time his voice slightly angrier than the last.

“I don’t know” you said in a clam almost monotone voice not breaking eye contact with him.

He clenched his jaw and you could almost see him shake with anger as his lips curled into a snarl.

“WHERE ARE THEY!” he yelled flying into a flurry of anger as he flew forwards wrapping a gloved hand around your throat and pinned you to the wall.

He brought his face close to yours, his eyes seemed to be looking straight into your soul. Your hands went to his wrist as he kept his grasp on your throat, tight enough to keep you pinned to the wall and to be uncomfortable but loose enough so that you could breathe without much difficulty.

You knew that you should be scared, probably terrified as this man could snap your neck in a heartbeat if he decided to.

Suddenly the words of your father echoed through your mind, “he can probe people’s minds.”

You realised what he was about to do so you tried to think of anything but the resistance, your mind hummed possibilities flying through it before you focused on the man in front of you. You breathed in slowly his soft soapy, inviting sent washing over you. Your eyes fell to his lips admiring how red and plump his lips were. How it would feel to run your finger down his jawline, how his hair would feel tangled through your fingers.

His head twitched and his face was overcome with confusion, he dropped his hand and you crumpled to the floor drawing in a breath and putting your hand to your throat, rubbing it gently. You looked up at him clenching your jaw.

You stood up and come face to face with him, he took a step forwards and you took a step backwards your back touching the familiar cool metal wall.

Your heart hammered as his eyes scanned your face, you frowned and stared at him too.

This took him by surprise once again.

“I’m not scared of you” you whispered, you watched his chest rise and fall as he frowned again and bit his lip.

His eyes narrowed and he stared at you, you realised that he wasn’t looking at you he was looking into you, into your mind. Your expression contorted into one of curiosity as you stared at him again, letting your mind wander once again.

You thought about your hands slowly unbuttoning his tight black uniform before watching it fall to the floor and letting your fingertips dance across his chest. Drawing him close, so your lips were almost touching as your hands fell to the waistband of his trousers, one hand dancing across the fabric of his trousers.

You watched as he clenched his jaw before he suddenly stepped back and turning away from you breathing heavily, you narrowed your eyes and looked at him in fascination. He had entered your mind wanting information, information that you were unwilling to share, and he’d instead got something else entirely.

He turned back around and stormed over to you, pushing you forcibly against the wall holding your hands either side of your head, his face just an inch from yours.

“What the hell are you?” he snarled.

Your heart hammered but you did your best to keep your composure and show that he wasn’t scaring you.

“Horny?” you asked before placing a small kiss on his lips.

His expression softened and he stepped back again confused dropping your hands. He was angry but also curious as to how you managed to only show him what you wanted him to see. The two emotions were fighting within him.

He was angry that he couldn’t get the information that he needed, what he wanted. He was also angry that the things you showed him made him weak, made him want to see more.

You took a step towards him and he took a step backwards.

“You’re force sensitive” he whispered looking at you in awe. “only slightly, but enough” he continued stepping closer to you.

“So?” you whispered unnerved by his sudden change.

“So that makes you far more interesting and valuable than I first thought” he whispered closing the distance so your chests were almost touching as he looked down at you with a fascinated expression. “Very interesting indeed…”

Authors note

Okay so this one is a little different, please vote to indicate that you are liking these and maybe drop me a comment telling me what you think? Thank you for reading my painfully Bad imagines 😊

[overlord-imagines]

can I get some headcannonons for demiurge and Ainz's wedding? They're my favorite couple at the moment.

Yes, you may!!! Ahhh! Their relationship is so precious, I’m swooning. I may have gone overboard with this… and demiurge may be a LITTLe out of character……. oops.

They had been dating for a year now, and rumors and questions of when Ainz will finally have a spouse and an heir and becoming so frequent that they even managed to reach the lord of death himself.

It’s gotten so bad that he even heard the other floor guardians muttering about it.

Ainz finally decided enough is enough. With the help of Pandora, he sorted through his massive amounts of the treasury to ‘The Rings of Matrimony’

They were ultra rare event rings that the guild spent some time on collecting, they were only for appearances but being the completionists that were Ainz Ooal Gown… they just couldn’t NOT get them.

And to propose, Ainz took the time to specially craft a gorgeous golden ring. With flawless diamonds as accents and a gorgeous ruby as the main centerpiece.

(Image is of a Claudine Vintage Engagement ring, found on Diamondere website.)

Ainz, being the complete closet nerd that he is, spends days on end planning the perfect proposal. And if he were being completely honest keeping it hidden from the rest of the guardians had to be the hardest thing he’s ever done in his life.

And he’s done a lot of shit as ruler of Nazarick.

He’s fairly sure Albedo already knows, being the one besides Demiurge who spends so much time with him. He’s also fairly sure that somewhere deep inside of her she’s plotting the demon’s murder… but at the same time, he’s noticed her being oddly quiet about it.

He eventually confronts her about it, due to the looks she gives him from time to time and confesses to helping her lord keep it a secret from Demiurge.

She has to resist every fiber of her being that screams at her to tackle him and claim him right then and there as he praises and thanks her for helping him.

Soon Sebas knows as well, being directed by Ainz to construct a beautiful moonlit dinner for him and his soon to be fiance. The maids arrange the dinner, setting it up in the breathtaking gardens of the 6th floor. Accenting the area with fairy lights, and making sure everything is more than absolutely perfect for the supreme being.

The night it actually happens, Ainz’s passive ability kicks in at least 15 times before he even can gather the nerve to propose. But when he does… oh boy.

Demiurge is shell shocked when his supreme being- the one he devoted his everything to, the one who reigns above all, his creator and his lover- presents himself on one knee.

The demon cannot even react, to seeing his beloved in such a state before Ainz pulls out the beautifully gilded box and opens it revealing the engagement ring Ainz had carefully put so much love into.

“Demiurge, my love…” A slight green aura surrounds him for a brief moment. “Will you do me the great honor, and stay by my side for the rest of my eternal life? To rule Nazarick by my side.

Demiurge’s heart stopped, he couldn’t breathe and when he realized that he had to his breaths came out fast. The poor boy began hyperventilating.

Sooner than Ainz could tell his lover to calm himself, to take it easy, Demiurge has already fallen out of the elegantly cushioned chair to the grassy floor below.

Tears well in his eyes as he clasps the hands of the glorious one before him and lowers himself far lower than Ainz has put himself, the demon’s head almost touching the floor.

“Please… do not lower yourself for a servant such as I.”

“But you are more than just a servant… Demiurge.” Ainz carefully brings Demiurge’s head up to look him in the eyes. “You are the love of my life, so please… will you marry me?”

A series of sobbing ‘yes’s poured from his mouth, kissing Ainz everywhere he could reach. And eagerly donned the ring.

That same night word of the wedding spread like wildfire, unknowing to Ainz, Aura and Mare had been spying from afar. Demiurge simply chose not to comment on it.

The wedding takes place a week later, the preparations took no time at all considering the weight of the event.

Albedo, of course, was in charge of the planning. And with the imput of Ainz she made sure that this wedding would be the grandest event this world had ever known. 

If she couldn’t be head wife to her beloved, she would at least assure her place as the one to birth his heir

(Image found on Pinterest Just imagine this but with more gold and a lot more extravagant… that’s how extra they went.)

Mare grew all of the floral accessories personally, making sure every single flower and leaf was absolutely flawless. He spent hours on end making sure of this, sometimes even worrying his sister with the amount of effort he put in this.

Aura helped Mare with Demiurge’s bouquet, after growing the flora needed the two presented the beautifully tied piece. He couldn’t be prouder.

The furniture was each handcrafted by the best woodworkers of Nazarick, each chair lined with beautiful white satin silk.

Cocytus arranged their finest warriors to act as decoration for the event as well, each individual soldier was done in priceless gilded armor to appeal to the radiance that is their ruler.

Pandora worked behind the scenes and was actually assistant to Albedo. He handled the finances, and all the supplies needed for this luxorious event. He was also there as emotional support for Ainz, as the poor lich was constantly concerned about the scale of his own wedding. He wasn’t one to show off, but the two guardians were having none of it, only the best for their lord.

Shalltear helped with the attire of both grooms. Being the only one with the expansive wardrobe, the vampire made sure that the wedding attire was both fabulous and fitting for beings such as themselves. She actually designed it all herself, with the best cloth workers of Nazarick bringing her piece to life.

Cocytus was also there as support for Demiurge, being the man who expresses himself with action rather than words he made an excellant listener as Demiurge rambled on and on about everything going on. As well as giving out nuggets of wisdom.

“Supreme beings make no errors of judgement, our Lord has chosen you for a reason. Do not doubt him now, when you have not before.”

On the day of the wedding, the weather was absolutely perfect. Not too hot, not too cold. And not a single cloud in the sky. This was to be expected of course, the maids would not allow such a thing as a cloud ruin such a momentus day.

Ainz asked that Pandora’s Actor be his best man. For Demiurge, he asked that Cocytus be his.

Aura and Mare were the flower children, throwing petals accross the carpet for Demiurge to walk along.

Ainz wore a stunning white tux, gilded in gold and lace with a transparent cape fluttering behind him.

Demiurge wore something similar but his highlighting his own features. His outfit being accented with beautiful diamonds and gold of its own.

The hundreds of seats were filled with the denizans of Nazarick, an unsettling sight to some… but absolutely stunning to Ainz. To see the entirety of his treasure present before him, made him want to cry.

Trust me when I say that if Ainz could cry right now he would be sobbing.

Upon request Sebas is their pastor, he just seems to fit the role perfectly. And it’s an honor to Ainz’s own close friend Lord Touch Me.

I do not exaggerate when I say EVERYONE in nazarick that day cried… Even Sebas. Their vows absolutely shook everyone.

“Demiurge… I never thought, that in all my years of existence, I would ever deserve someone such as yourself. I felt lost, when my precious comrades had left this Nazarick… I feared that the place in my heart that they had left empty would never be filled. But when you’re with me… I feel whole.”

Everyone is surprised to see that Demiurge hasn’t compeltely broken down yet and the devastation that is his tail hasn’t been released yet. Though they could barely see them through their own tears.

Everyone is just so emotional.

“Lord Ainz, never in my lifetime would I ever have thought I would get the honor to wed you. I do not deserve such a radiant and generous being such as yourself. To acquire the intimate love of a supreme being had been unfathomable to me… but to be here today and to see how you could ever love someone as lowly as me- no amount of words could describe how I feel for you. I swear to you, Ainz Ooal Gown, Lord Momonga. I will give you everything this world has to offer, my entire being included, just to ever amount to what you give to me.”

Ainz is so flustered, his husband is too extra for his poor little neet heart to handle.

The party after is certainly something to remember, even though he can’t eat and most of the denizens of Nazarick don’t even need to the maids worked endlessly to produce such a fantastic feast for all of Nazarick to enjoy.

Oh my god when Ainz tells Demiurge of the tradition to throw his bouquet.

Albedo and Shalltear and seething, glaring at each other fighting over who gets to marry Lord Ainz next.

Demiurge accidentally throws it too hard, and from their fighting both miss the bouquet as it flies over their heads and lands in Mare’s arms.

Both of them look murderous, scarily calm as they both ask Mare for the flowers.

HE REFUSES!!!!!!!

“B-But… I wanna m-m-marry Ainz-sama some… some day too….”

AINZ IS CHOKING

DEMIURGE IS TRYING NOT TO LAUGH

THE TWO FEMALE GUARDIANS ARE SpeaCHLESS!!!

Ainz ends up having to teach Aura and Mare about marriage, giving them a quick parent talk.

In the end, it’s still undecided. Mare still not wanting to give it up and Aura not letting him, after all, he caught it fair and square.

The two slow dance, it’s so romantic. Everyone is partnered up with somebody.

Even Cocytus is out there dancing with Entoma. 

To be honest the party is fantastic and is certainly the gossip of Nazarick for the next couple of months.

Ainz couldn’t feel more in love than he does with Demiurge, the two act a whole lot more lovey-dovey.

They keep up their professional appearances still, but when around allies will playfully call each other pet names.

Mostly demiurge, Ainz is just so shy… actually exclusively demiurge. Ainz is too flustered and too introverted for his own good.

“As you request, my love.”

Also Demiurge, to Ainz’s bewilderment, seems to still condone the idea of multiple spouses… Albedo isn’t keeping this fact a secret either.

Please, someone, help Papa Bones.

[avanneman]

The Code of the Woosters

The 23 episodes of “Jeeves and Wooster”, a British TV series starring Stephen Fry as Jeeves and a young Hugh Laurie as Bertie Wooster that ran from 1990 to 1993, are now available via YouTube. If you don’t know who Jeeves and Bertie are, you probably won’t enjoy the series. If you do know, you’re almost sure to have quibbles.

Jeeves, indispensable personal manservant, and his employer, mentally negligible man about town Bertie Wooster, were the supreme creations of P. G. Wodehouse (pronounced “Woodhouse”), the most gifted (to my mind) author of light fiction who ever lived. George Orwell, who wrote an intelligent though ultimately too generous discussion of Wodehouse, explained to ignorant Americans that Bertie was a pre-World War I Edwardian “knut”, a languid, yet somehow charming fellow whose general incompetence somehow makes it appropriate that he should have more money than he can spend.

The fact that a lot of Bertie Woosters got slaughtered in the trenches of World War I somehow did not decrease the market for Wodehouse’s fiction. Wodehouse, who always looked rather determinedly on the bright side of life, at least in public, shrewdly guessed that a lot of people would prefer to pretend that the Great War never happened, and so made the world of the knut even more extravagantly self-indulgent and unreal than it had been in the balmy days when King Edward was still alive,1 creating a world of young men in spats, white flannels and cucumber sandwiches, smart flats and country homes, heiresses and French maids, all of them pure as the driven snow—for Wodehouse’s world is as innocent as the real one is wicked.

What makes Wodehouse worth reading is the wonderful dexterity of both his language and his plots—“musical comedy without the music,” he liked to call it, although few musicals could match the twists and turns of his absurdist plots where everything is first turned upside down—very often due to Bertie’s blundering—and then flipped rightside up again thanks to Jeeves’ brilliance.2 Wodehouse drew heavily on the tradition of Gilbert and Sullivan for both his plots and language, translating them onto the written page. He had a wonderful ability to mix the clichés of formal and colloquial English—ponderous “Establishment English” and English “public school”3 slang, in particular—turning them inside out or leaving them rightside in while placing them in incongruous surroundings, shifting constantly from outrageous overstatement to similarly outrageous understatement within a single sentence.4

When I first saw the Jeeves and Wooster episodes I was disappointed that every line of Wodehouse’s superb verbal stunting wasn’t faithfully replicated on the screen—absurd, no doubt, but, as Bertie would say, there it is. After almost thirty years to collect my thoughts, I find that, so far, my original judgment was a bit harsh. Stephen Fry makes an excellent Jeeves, though there’s often an ironic tone to his supposedly respectful responses to Bertie’s inanities—as though Fry feels the need to let us know that Jeeves knows how stupid Bertie is—which strikes me as lazy and self-indulgent. The real Jeeves, one feels, would be above the need to signal his superiority.

Laurie’s Bertie Wooster is more of a mixed bag. In the first scenes of the first episode, Laurie engages in some horrible mugging, intended to let us know that Bertie’s suffering from a hangover, but if the plot didn’t make that clear, we’d never have guessed. Eventually. Laurie improves, and physically he makes an excellent Wooster, his tall, spindly, eccentric frame making even the most elegant outfit look somewhat ridiculous, and thus serving to ridicule rather than distinguish its wearer.

The trappings of twenties and thirties elegance are very well done, but the Brits, of course, never tire of this. British studios must have roundhouses of puffing locomotives, garages bursting with antique sports cars, taxis, and limos, not to mention immaculately maintained country homes and smart flats. The theme music, a sort of palm court jazz, if that isn’t too rude a term, is quite catchy as well.

The attempts to “open up” Wodehouse’s world are another matter, and an area where devotees are likely to quibble. The series takes us inside Bertie’s “Drones Club,” but the members are depicted as emotionally stunted six-year-olds, while I always envisioned them as emotionally stunted thirteen-year-olds. I ended up bailing on the series back in the nineties for its lack of “respect” for Wodehouse, but if I persevere through the whole thing this time around I may be more forgiving.

Afterwords In the “real” twenties, knuts were better known as upper-class twits or “Bright Young Things.” The current British series The Windsors does a better job taking down the modern-day upper-class twit, because The Windsors deals with shagging and snorting as well as cigarettes and liquor, which are the only sins permitted in Jeeves and Wooster, though The Windsors still keeps it light. For a grimmer touch, you can find a TV adaptation of Evelyn Waugh’s Decline and Fall, in which all the Bright Young Things are damned to Hell—or at least would be if Evelyn had his way. Variations on these themes can also be found on the once legendary Upstairs Downstairs series, which you can get on Amazon, if not elsewhere, as well as the execrable Downton Abbey—execrable if not indeed damnable—which I ridiculed both here and here.

Back in his heyday, between the two big wars, Wodehouse was the beloved pet of virtually every English writer, from Orwell on the left to T. S. Eliot (officially an American, of course,5) on the right, first because he was so funny and second because he offered no competition to them, despite writing of a world that they all knew never existed.6 The Wodehouse cult endured a great crisis in the early days of World War II when Wodehouse and his wife, enjoying an extended vacation in France, managed to get themselves captured by the German army. They were interned as enemy civilians, and Wodehouse agreed to make a few radio broadcasts for the Germans, in which he explained that his hosts, once you got to know them, proved to be rather jolly chaps in the whole. This naturally enraged the British population, who regarded Wodehouse as nothing less than a traitor.

The intelligentsia can always love an outcast—some more than others, of course—and Wodehouse admirers like Orwell rallied round in an excessive manner, rushing to “explain” that Wodehouse was a political naïf who knew not what he did. I think one can wonder about that. Wodehouse was quite a wealthy man—rarely the mark of a naïf in the first place—and many wealthy people on the eve of World War II feared that a “long war” would inevitably lead to crushing taxation and endless governmental regulation of every aspect of society no matter who “won”. Better to have the whole thing settled and done with, so that, hopefully, we could somehow find our way back to “normality”. Far more illustrious men than Wodehouse—Picasso, Matisse, and Andrè Gide, for example—were willing to make their peace with the Nazis. One must learn to accept that which one cannot change, after all.

Edward VII, who reigned from 1901 until 1911, was the figurehead monarch of a society that was moving rapidly towards civil war (over the question of “Home Rule” for Ireland) when an even greater external crisis intervened. Great Britain, as it then was generally called, was spared a civil war at the expense of about 600,000 dead and an equal number of wounded. On the one hand, there was almost nothing that Edward could do to prevent the smashup. On the other, there was almost nothing he did do to prevent the smashup. ↩︎

Eighteenth century literature featured many plots where, as Orwell (again) put it, the elements fit together like the teeth of a zipper, but the real classic that prefigures Wodehouse is Beaumarchais’ Marriage of Figaro, far better known in the U.S. via Mozart’s opera. Wodehouse no doubt got the idea from Gilbert and Sullivan rather than the “original”. ↩︎

English “public schools” are what we would call private schools. Wodehouse was immensely happy at his school—confusingly known as “Dulwich College”. It isn’t hard to guess from his work that he found the idea of an all-male society revolving largely around sports and adolescent hijinks immensely appealing. ↩︎

Wodehouse came from a seriously “colonial” family, and according to Wikipedia was raised for the first two years of his life by a Chinese nurse. I’ve read (somewhere) that the historian Edward Gibbon was cared for in his first years by a French nurse, and William F. Buckley was initially raised by a Spanish one. Not being exposed to your “native language” from birth can perhaps lead certain spirits to experience language as “naturally” artificial. ↩︎

Wherever he went, Eliot liked thinking of himself as a “metic” (Greek for “resident alien”)—St. Augustine’s notion of the proper role of a Christian while here on earth. I once read an interesting biography of Eliot that collected the opening remarks of addresses he gave, largely in the U.S. and the U.K., in which he would politely but firmly explain to his audience that he was not one of them. ↩︎

Not every writer adored Wodehouse. It’s typical of writers, regardless of background, to think of themselves as aristocrats and identify with the aristocracy, but some British writers, raised in the “Dissenting” tradition, hate everything about the whole country house fantasy. The fact that Wodehouse created a sort of “Disney version” made it no more palatable. ↩︎

[itstotalyblue-blog]

The God and The Programmer (Part 2)

Original Summary: Loki runs the most popular business in the world, while (Y/N) works as a Programmer for him. When Loki throws a party for everyone, a team of hackers finds its the perfect time to steal information. Loki doesn’t like that. But he can’t have (Y/N) ruin the fun, either.

Part One

“Wow Loki… this is… more than I expected.” I stated in awe as I walked into the large mansion. “And the throne, can’t forget the throne.” Currently it was sitting on top of the staircase leading to the second floor, while a maid in a surprisingly modest outfit cleaned it.

“Dolly?” Loki called. “Would you show our new guest her room?”

“Of course Sir!” She replied, placing the cleaning items onto the floor. “Right this way miss!”

“I’ll be in my office if you need me.” Loki grinned, walking away as I began to climb the stairs. He never even gave me the chance to ask him where his office was, or anything else for that matter. I sighed quietly and continued up the stairs, meeting Dolly’s cheerful expression.

“Master Loki is a good man, Miss.” she smiled before turning around. “He’ll take care of you!”

“Why me?” I asked, more to myself, but still to her somewhat.

“Because you’re his assistant.” She answered simply. “His last assistant tried to murder him in his sleep, along with several others before him. Whatever the reason of you being the newest, please treat him well. He may seem like a bad guy, but he truly isn’t. He’s just lonely.”

“Lonely? The all famous billionaire is lonely?”

She nodded her head, putting her keys into a door. “Pardon the lock, this was made to ensure you don’t attack him or me. You have a phone in there, the numbers for each person are in there, there’s a desk with a computer, and a bathroom. If you need anything, call either me or Master Loki.”

“Thank you, Dolly.” I nodded with a smile, stepping into the room.

She closed the door as soon as I stepped in, and locked it. I looked around, finding a camera placed in the corner of the room, and waved. What a creep. Immediately I got on the computer, took a few moments to hack into the system, and shut down all cameras in my room.

“Hello?” I said, answering the phone.

“The cameras are there to ensure your safety.” Loki huffed. “Please turn them back on.”

“No, that’s creepy as shit.” I replied.

“There aren’t any cameras in the bathroom, do your changing there, and please for the Love Of god sleep with clothes on.” He said, hanging up the phone.

I sighed and turned them back on, staying in the system, and watching him in his office. I don’t know what was weirder, the fact I was watching him watch me, or he was allowing me to continue doing what I did so long as that camera stayed on.

He grinned and turned to the camera, giving it a quick wave as it faded to black. I couldn’t tell if he shut off the camera, or did something to it, but it was strange. “He’s a God.” I muttered. “Course he would be able to do something like that.”

So the next hour or so, I began doing research on him. I came across several really old articles about Asgard, which judging by how much he’s In these stories, is where Loki came from. I learned about his family issues from his simple fights with his brother, to not so simple fights with his father, and how attached he is said to be to his mother.

But none of this makes sense, if he’s here, where is his brother? Why hasn’t his father taken him back? I pondered these questions for a few moments before my door opened, revealing Dolly with a happy smile once more.

“Dinner is ready miss.” She said, motioning me to follow her. I looked down, sighing as I realized I was still in my dress, and heels. I must have been that messed up after leaving the party… that sucks…

“(Y/N).” Loki smiled.

“Loki.” I replied, taking a seat.

“Are you alright?” Loki asked. “Tonight’s been an eventful night for you, how are you settling in?”

“Considering most of the people I work with are now dead… good? I think?” I sighed.

He nodded his head. “Outside of this house, you’re with me. Twenty four seven with the exception of the bathroom. I have far too many enemies for you to wander on your own.”

“So I’m your slave now?”

“No, think of it as… protection. You being the all feared hacker, and me being the all known billionaire, I’m sure both of us are on somebodies hit list. This is the only way I can ensure your protection, (Y/N).”

I looked down at the white plate. “You said I could take whatever I wanted, how could I do that?”

He smirked. “You would have to join me on my throne.”

“Are you asking me to marry you?”

“I’m simply giving you the option to do so, yes.” He nodded. “But from my understanding, most humans take time for these kinds of things, so I will leave that purely up to you.”

“What if I say no?”

“Then you will remain my assistant.” He shrugged. “Your life stays boring, and you continue to do others bidding.”

“If I say yes?”

“When I finally take my rightful place on Odins throne, you will be right there with me. We will reign supreme in a reality mortals can only dream of.”

I nodded. “How long do I have for this decision?”

“Until Odin Dies.” He said, a flash of determination in his eyes.

“Is Odin sick?”

“He is growing old, and will perish soon enough.” He nodded. “In the meantime, I will allow you to stay here, do as you please, and say as you please. If you so wish to leave, I will allow it, but do know I cannot protect you from the hell I will raise in the future.”

“Your other assistants, did you give them these options?”

“No.” He shook his head. “Their options were simple, if they served me, they would get a front row seat to the new world, and they refused…”

“Refused meaning tried to kill you.”

“Heroic yes, stupid absolutely. (Y/N) you cannot kill a god.” He warned.

I was about to speak, but was cut off by the chefs coming in and placing the food down on the table. Everything was made from my favorites. Every. Damn. Thing. I looked at Loki with an unsure gasp, making him motion to the food. I felt like a child in a candy store. I ate all I could, causing Loki to smile warmly. “You could have this meal, and any other meal you desire, at any time of the day as my Queen.”

“Why me? Why do you want me?”

“I told you a few hours ago. Now get some rest, it’s late.”

“What are you my mother?” I grunted.

He chuckled. “I know human bodies can not endure late nights. You’ve been awake for over two days. You need sleep.”

I sighed, he was right. After a short goodnight, Dolly brought me back to my room, locking me in. I changed out of my dress in to some hoodie and sweatpants, and tried to fall asleep. It wasn’t until a few hours later did I decide that wasn’t going to happen.

I stood up and walked to the terrace, which Loki so graciously gave me the keys to, and stared out into the night. It was calming, no doubt, to the point where I didn’t even hear Loki enter my room.

“Are you alright?” Loki asked.

“I don’t know.” I admitted. “My friend is dead, and I’m living with her killer. The only person I trusted in that damn office turned out to be a traitor, and now I’m being told that if I don’t marry you, I’ll be your slave in the future. I don’t know how I am at this point.”

“They were bad people, (Y/N).” Loki stated as he walked to the space next to me. “And I am not forcing your decision on this. There’s a small chance that you will be dead before I take the world as my own anyway, so don’t think too much about that.”

“If I had joined their raid, would you have killed me?”

“I would have given you an option, to marry me and live, or die.” He said softly. “I’ve been watching what you do in the office, I’ve been protecting you since the moment you stepped foot onto the premise, and now I finally can fully protect you. I don’t want to force you to do anything, because lord knows I’m not worthy of love, but I’m leaving it up to you.

“If you say yes, I’ll treat you like the goddess you deserve to be seen as. You’ll be protected, and you won’t have to suffer through this life alone. All you have to do, is say yes.”

His voice wasn’t firm, or demanding, it was soft and desperate. It was almost as if he was saving me from a life like his, and maybe he thought I would be his savior from a life of loneliness. Whatever his motive, I didn’t care.

“Loki, I...” I paused, rethinking until I was sure. “Loki I think I... I think I want to be your Queen...”

[kigurumiunicorn]

Kigurumi unicorn - An Intro

Cosplay is a simplified form of the term costume play so it is devoted to the Chinese or Japanese representations of characters in this case. They usually have incredibly complicated masks, which may be worn everywhere, from conventions and more. Many of the common roles to be depicted comprise comics, novels, TV shows, computer games, and cartoons. It is one of the most common activities for fans of these art forms, particularly in Western, Asian and Japanese countries. There's so much to learn about this form of role playing for kids, so find out more about it. Do you want to learn more? Visit kigurumi unicorn

What specifically is Cosplay?

Cosplay is where enthusiasts from movies, video games, tv dramas, comics or anime shows dress up as their favorite characters. The masks may be complex and it is not uncommon to see people or women dressing as their fictional characters as being the same sex. It's a common activity that began in the 90's and it's part of mainstream culture in different parts of the world, including areas of Asia and Japan in several Western countries. Such characters can be seen in action at different conventions around the world so you never know what role you're going to be running into.

Buying Online Costumes There are various online taobao cosplay shops where you can find almost any costume you want. You will make sure that you purchase the things you need from a reputed shop where you can locate them. After choosing the place, then make sure you figure out how to locate the customers with the best reputations and speak to them about the things you like. After you have charged for the masks, they are sent to the location you send them. Make sure you can tell the vendor if you have any trouble with the costume after it's shipped.

You may think of a large range of characters when you think of Chinese cosplay, which may shift depending on your favorite series. You will make sure you recognize what character you like and choose the best looking outfit at an reasonable price on the online website. You can not purchase products or pay for cheap goods from any online retailer that is not trustworthy to prevent wasting income. Go ahead and choose the costume that you like, and produce it without any problems.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Kigurumi unicorn - A Closer Look

Axis Powers Hetalia Cosplay has long been appealing to me. Convention and festivals remain worldwide for cosplayers after the Japanese anime and manga quickly expanded across the globe. The predominant theme for most cosplayers is girlish hot dress and boyish chic outfits. The Jakarta Little Tokyo Twin City Ennichisai Festival 2012 will be the third time the festival is conducted in the area, organized by Japanese and local business people in the Blok M commercial district. In addition to the race for cosplay, the festival will also feature an array of Japanese items and a live-action cosplay series paired with music performances.

Axis Powers Hetalia Cosplay is not a fresh cosplay genre, regardless of its traditional and special plot and characters, simply its prevalence. To boys and children, Russia cosplay clothes, American dress, and any other outfit are all recommendable. I guess the little Maid cosplay outfit from Hetalia is stronger than ever, if you're doing girlish costumes.

But affinity for girlish and boyish things is a concern for both males and females. Obvious women's costumes that depict feminine curves are pleasant and widespread. Beware of fans Lolita! Place your favorite anime, comics, or video game characters on your very own tea party as Elegant Gothic Lolita Cosplay Costumes / Elegant Gothic Aristocrat models at this competitive or exhibitive gathering!

Westerners and Americans favor the Axis Power Hetalia Cosplay to spicy and popular anime and manga shows. While more Asians want stunning and glamorous clothing. That is largely the fundamental disparity between the two. Therefore, work in teams under the watchful eyes of Cosplay's jurors, viewers and chairman use unusual things to build marvelous Cosplay Clothing and accessories. See what squad capabilities reign supreme and win Iron Cosplay Champion award!

Axis Powers Hetalia Cosplay is practiced by a broad population continuum, as there is no restriction of ethnicity, sex, gender and location. This separates itself with cosplay in the video. "Cosplay and games are a staple for AM2," states Miko Khun AM2 Interactive Division Head, "cosplayers can make arrangements for gatherings and celebrate all that is wonderful and fun by seeing old friends and making new ones! And gaming fans will rejoice with all the amazing tournaments and prizing provided by our official console game sponsor Snakebyte USA. AM2will be the place to be with all the amazing guests of honors, concerts, exhibit hall and other amazing activities for fans and enthusiasts! Get your Passports today and experience the difference!

[lenific]

OUAT. Lacey/Rumpelstiltskin

Prompt: “It’s been how long since you’ve had sex?”

ANYTHING YOU WANT (Ao3)

The last thing Rumpelstiltskin expected to find when he stepped into the showroom of the pawnshop Regina had saddled him with, was his formerly sweet and demure maid giving him a challenging look from her perch on the counter.

"Good morning, Mr. Gold," she greeted him cheerily.

Rumpelstiltskin gulped.

Perhaps in other circumstances, he could have indulged in fond memories of sharing whole conversations with Belle while she sat on the long table of the main hall and swung her legs contently, always happy to give him a half hour of her time in exchange for a few tidbits about his trips.

But the comparison died the moment his brain screeched that in those days Belle had been in possession of all her clothes while they'd talked.

Lacey, in contrast, was clad in a brief, flimsy ensemble of silk and lace that shimmered under the overhead lights into a tone that took Rumpelstiltskin a moment to recognize as gold.

In all, the ensemble might have skirted the boundaries of propriety as they were in this land. The neckline wasn't any lower than the shirts and tight dresses Lacey adored, and there was fabric covering more of her thighs than some of the shorts he'd seen her wear.

The problem, Rumpelstiltskin realized in despair, was that the sheer lace tantalized more than protected her from lecherous intent. As if that wasn't temptation enough, his eyes wandered without his express permission, noting every inch of her exposed flesh and zeroing in the heretofore unknown sight of her belly button.

It got worse.

Her bottoms skimmed so low down her abdomen that his brain unhelpfully informed him that if there was no sign of curly hair at that spot, it was unlikely he'd find any under the cloth.

He hissed in a breath, trying to hold himself up under the weight of the imagery, and then choked out in a voice more fitting of a startled fool than the collected businessman he was supposed to be, "What do you think you're doing?"

Lacey smirked. "Waiting for the boss, of course. You did say I had better come to work early this week if I didn't want you to start subtracting from my pay."

"Lacey..."

She dared to give him an admonishing look. "Miss French, if you please. I've grown fond of this formality you're so particular about."

Rumpelstiltskin fought the urge to turn around and flee. Instead he tightened his grip on his cane, as if its tip against the floor was the only thing holding him from either marching over to Town Hall and strangling a new cursed persona for Belle out of Regina, or marching forward and finally taking what Lacey had been so eager to offer for weeks.

He fought down the wave of lust at that thought. Took a deep breath instead. "While I praise you for your punctuality, dearie, I really must wonder at your choice of attire."

Lacey plucked at the thin strap at her left shoulder, letting the flimsy bit of elastic fall down to her elbow. "This old thing?" she asked, trying an innocent tone that was immediately belied by the heat in her eyes. "I didn't think you'd notice anything different with it. Should I take it off?"

She joined action to words, reaching behind her back for what Rumpelstiltskin assumed was the catch holding her top together.

"No!"

Her head tilted to a side, and her hands slowly returned to her sides. "You mean that, don't you?"

Rumpelstiltskin forced himself to nod.

Her chuckle was loud with disbelief. "At least you do like the view so far," she said, always confident and absolutely in the right.

He didn't bother to shift his expression into disapproval, aware that Belle had always been able to see under his masks and Lacey had inherited at least that. Perhaps he should have turned around, or at least walked past her and avoided the girl until she took the hint and pulled some clothes on.

But either of those options smacked of weakness, and previous experience said that Lacey would only try something even more outrageous the next time. "You are a beautiful woman, Miss French," he told her, then gave a little shrug, "and I'm not that much of a gentleman."

That made her laugh.

Lacey's laughter always tugged at his heart, as she sounded exactly like Belle when he told one of his silly jokes. Rumpelstiltskin smiled back, keeping his gaze at the level of her shoulders, one still sporting a golden strap across it, the other bare of even a tan line, and didn't even attempt to order his eyes to move further upwards.

He did know an impossible task when he stumbled upon it.

"Not a gentleman? I'm so shocked," Lacey said, her voice a purr.

She studied him for another moment, charmed both by his stubborn self-command and his partial success. Any other man would have already taken her up on her offer long before she had to resort to near-public indecency to get this much of his attention. "Mr. Gold?" she called softly, inexplicably happy when he did raise his eyes at the sound of his name. "Tell me what you want."

His tongue peeked out to wet his lips.

Lacey smiled. Leaned so far forward that her hands gripped at the edge of the counter to secure her balance. As she stretched her neck to the side, she knew there was a free line of sight down the valley between her breasts, barely disguised by the gold cloth of her new set of lingerie.

"Anything you want," she pressed.

Rumpelstiltskin wondered how she had known to steal his line, the exact words he'd said a thousand times to a thousand desperate souls. There was always a price attached, he reminded himself. He knew better than most that there was no escape from paying it.

His price would be Belle staring at him in horror, once the curse was broken.

He had more self-control than to give in to the web of lies Regina's curse had created. Lacey's attraction might be rooted in the love Belle had once held for him, but it had been years since then, and years where she couldn't have thought too kindly of him. Not after he had thrown her out of the castle and then left her for dead under the Evil Queen's mercy.

Even if, by some miracle, Belle still trusted him enough that even her cursed self had instinctively looked for his protection, he didn't dare presume that any of her more tender feelings had survived.

"Well, Mr. Gold? If you're thinking you can distract me with your silence, you're wrong, you know."

This was like Belle, too.

I want you to be safe, he thought. And, I want you to forgive me.

In this world where Regina still reigned supreme, with only the foolish and stubborn Miss Swan standing against her, Lacey's safety was paramount. Rumpelstiltskin didn't like to think of what Regina would do if she caught wind that Lacey had become Mr. Gold's lover instead of a torture device held at Rumpelstiltskin's throat.

"I want to get a full day's work out of you, dearie."

Lacey's smile widened. "That can be arranged," she said, slipping off the counter and walking leisurely in his direction. She was almost of a height with him, on those spike heels of the same hue as her ensemble. Meanwhile, entranced, it didn't even cross Rumpelstiltskin's head to move away. Lacey motioned around the room, never pausing on the bee line toward him. "Should we start right here, or would the backroom be more comfortable?"

"You misunderstand-"

She was close enough to have grabbed onto his tie, stretching it between them and then leaning to rub her cheek against the soft material. "No, I didn't." Her smile could have driven Rumpelstiltskin to his knees, if it was Belle behind it. "I know what you want, whether you say it or not. I have been here for three months, and I have never seen you so much as glance at another woman unless you're glaring daggers at her - which is the hottest thing I've ever seen, by the way."

"Wha--?"

"But when you glare at me... Yes. Just like that." Her eyes sparked. "You've looked at me like that from the start, Gold. For months. I've been waiting for you to make a first step, but I've decided you're off practice." She said all this in the most rational of tones. "It's all right," she continued, now so close that she patted his cheek comfortingly. "I understand. After all, it’s been how long since you’ve had sex?”

"Miss French!" he said in despair. "I want you to be professional while on the job."

Lacey just laughed, inching closer.

"I don't-"

"Lies," she cut him off mercilessly.

"I want you to know who I am!"

That held enough honesty to stop Lacey in her tracks. She looked up, letting go of his tie in shock at whatever she saw on his face. "But I already know," she said, turning confused blue eyes up at him, obviously at a loss. "You're Mr. Gold."

Rumpelstiltskin's laughter sounded pained to his own ears.

Lacey was so close that he could smell her, but the scent was all Belle. If he closed his eyes, he'd be back in the Dark Castle, standing in sunlight within his walls for the first time in years, holding a girl too kind-hearted to understand she should have jumped out and run away already.

"What's my name?" he asked, leveling his voice against a roar at the unfairness of it.

Lacey frowned.

Rumpelstiltskin allowed himself to trace her cheek with a fingertip, exhausted after so many weeks of fighting himself from touching her. "My name, dearie. If you're Lacey French, then I am...?"

"You've never said," she whispered. The crease between her brows deepened. "No one has."

"I'll make you a deal," he told her before she could think too hard of the unlikeness of a whole town being unaware of the name of the most powerful man among them. "Tell me my name, and I will answer your question. No lies. No distractions. Just the truth."

Lacey eyed him. "Why delay the inevitable?"

He gave a soft laugh. "Call me a romantic."

She looked at him, saw that he wouldn't change his mind and shrugged. "I guess one of us has to be," she muttered, glancing down at her outfit with a disappointed scowl.

Rumpelstiltskin's hands itched to touch her, which meant that he tightened his grasp on the cane. "You're perfect," he reassured her. "You always are."

A huff of disbelief answered that. "You're saying no because I'm perfect? I'm trashy, Gold. Not stupid." With that, Lacey twirled around on her heels, stomping toward the backroom.

"You're the smartest woman I know," Rumpelstiltskin called out.

That managed to make her pause, and Lacey looked at him over her shoulder. Blue eyes narrowed with distrust, but she couldn't detect any mockery on his face. "Yes, I am," she told him, more to herself than to him, but then she nodded at her own words. "I'm the best and it's your loss, Gold." Then she resumed stalking away, shooting out an arm to make the dividing curtain flare open to let herself through. Once she was out of view, she yelled back, "And you're a fool!"

Rumpelstiltskin let out a sad smile.

"I know, sweetheart," he whispered. "I know."

The End 07/02/17