salvers

anonymous asked:

Undertaker, sebastian and Ciels reactions to helping their s/o babysit their little nephew and once their s/o isnt there for a moment the kid just turns evil and glares at them, calls them names because they dont want the boys to touch or kiss the s/o???

That was so much fun to write (❛▿❛✿)


Playful sounds were echoing in the room filling it up with positive vibes and an aura of overwhelming joy when you were trying to find your little nephew between all the furnitures with your eyes blindfolded with a long scarf. When he offered you to play this childish game, you thought it will be way easier than it now appeared to be and your bruised knee (since when was the table standing there?) already reminded you of it with pulsatory pain. Not that you minded, it has been almost an year since you saw him for the last time and started missed him. The boy never let you get bored with the variety of his ideas, different games to play which necessarily had to involve you and those cute, handmade gifts from him. For such a young boy, he seemed to be very talented already and watching him grow up was surely a great pleasure for a proud auntie you were.

After a few attempts of finding him, you finally managed to catch the boy just when he was about to jump on the sofa but ended up in your arms, wriggling and laughing out loud in a breaks of repeating how this one shouldn’t count and eventually stopped complaining when you tickled him and took off your blindfold.

“All right, all right,” you sat him down on the said sofa and watched him pout at your sudden seriousness. “We will play one more round but first, I am going to bring something cold to drink, fine? I can bet that you are even more thirsty than I am.”

Your nephew, still pouting, nodded slowly, as if he still was not completely convinced. You smiled to him and put the scarf on the nearby armchair, finally turning to your boyfriend who was simply observing your games, not really wanting to participate for the whole time.

“Keep an eye on him for a while,” you stated and before he could offer you some help in the kitchen, you were gone behind the doors, leaving him alone with the young boy.


Undertaker giggled when he felt the strand of his long, white hair being sligtly pulled. He was used to the way they would fall everywhere, sometimes disturbing his actions or even sleep when they got tangled but nevertheless he enjoyed how they were giving him a substitute of privacy and helped to hide the scars, so he never complained. The next pull was, however, a little bit more stronger and if he was not a grim reaper, it would probably hurt him. Turning his head toward the young boy who was now holding a fist of his hair, he didn’t let the smile to drop, still amused after watching you two play.

“You are quite mischievous, aren’t you, little one?” he wondered out loud.

Your nephew’s face was not all brighten up with joy as it was barely few moments before you left, he was now staring at the Undertaker as if he was trying to kill him just with the gaze.

“And not really talkative to the strangers, huh?” The grim reaper swayed forward and then backward on the edge of simple, wooden chair, giggling once again when recalled something funny you said this afternoon.

“You’re weird,” the boy commented straightforwardly.

Undertaker busrted with short laugh.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve heard that already but tell me, who isn’t weird at all?”

The boy frowned and let go of the strand of his hair, letting it fall down on the floor, then crossed his arms, still glaring. After thinking for a while, the grim reaper leaned slightly to the younger one, baring his teeth in an amused smile when a simple thought crossed his mind.

“Could it be that you are jealous of your precious aunt?” he inquired.

There was a spark of shock visible in your nephew’s eyes but it disappeared as fast as appeared, leaving him frowning even more than before.

“You’re a freak,” he stated with slight disgust.

“You have no idea how righ you are.”

The boy turned around and stamping loudly approached the Undertaker, probably wanting to finally see his eyes, still covered by the white bangs. He didn’t have an opportunity to do so since just when he was inches close to him, the grim reaper stood up and placed his long, black nail on the boy’s forehead, stopping him in the middle of the walk as if he was a clockwork toy.

“No peeking, little one,” he hummed.

It seemed like Undertaker had a perfect answer for literally everything your nephew was doing, moreover, he was having a lot of fun with him and his attempts of hurting his feelings. However, he was not the one to give up easily.

“I bet you’re ugly, that’s why you’re hiding your face.”

“Well, you are not wrong,” the grim reaper giggled.

“Too ugly to date her.”

“And yet, she is there.”

“Because she hadn’t seen your ugly face.”

“Oh!” he laughed. “She saw way more than my ugly face, little one.”

Just when the boy was about to say somethig more, you opened the door and came back with few cold drinks. Seeing those two facing each other, your nephew clearly annoyed, frowning, cheeks reddened with emotions and Undertaker holding his stomach when he was trying to hold back the laughter made you immediatelly think that you missed something very important which you didn’t necessarily wanted to know about.


Sebastian would have sighed if it was not about his perfect butler appearance. Instead, he just looked at the boy who was still sitting on the sofa which now looking way much bigger with such a small human on it, and after a while stood up up from his current, comfortable position on a chair in the corner of the room. Approaching the child, he put the most gentle and kind smile he managed to on his face, hoping that you will be back soon and he won’t have to deal with him for longer than needed. He had enough of human cubs for the next hundred years, after all.

Your nephew, however, seemed to be well-educated and rather polite boy so spending few minutes with him probably was not going to be as bad, as Sebastian thought. Sitting in front of the boy on an armchair where you previously put your scarf on, the butler realized how wrong he was after hearing the first sentence said directly to him:

“You’re a spawn of satan.”

Sebastian freezed and so did the smile on his face. For a single moment, he could swear that he felt his heart beat slightly faster in a sudden realization that this young man was actually able to recognize him, to see through his disguise which he still didn’t take off even in front of you, to bare his secrets, to…

The demon coughed once, twice and looked at the boy again, this time straight in his eyes, focusing on guessing his true intentions. It was impossible that he could know it, no, it must have been some kind of joke and all he had to do was to talk about it with him before he could eventually reveal this secret to you.

“What makes you say such a strong words?” Sebastian asked, not affected by the nephew’s gloomy and averse stare.

The boy didn’t reply at first, he let the demon to wait patiently in silence and wonder what may the true answer be. Just when the butler thought that he won’t hear another word, the reply appeared and hanged in the air between them, heavy and uncomfortable.

“I don’t like the stuff you’re doing to her.”

For once, Sebastian thought that maybe he would want a glass of water also, he was clearly not ready for a conversation like this one. Adjusting his tie, he decided to not get fooled, now almost sure that the boy didn’t truly recognize him but saw or heard way worse things… Before he said anything more, he had to analyze the situation; your nephew couldn’t be that smart and he was probably assuming wrong.

“The stuff?” Simple, stupid question, way lower than his actual level but he was talking to the child, human child, wasn’t he?

“Kissing.”

“Oh…”

Well, maybe he was that smart.

“Young man, it is not-“ Sebastian couldn’t end the sentence because the boy interrupted him right in the middle.

“I don’t want to see you close to her ever again, you trash, or else…”

The demon didn’t recall you having any kind of pocket watch but you seemingly didn’t need one to be in a right places on a right time which was now proved again by your presence in the room, the salver with drinks in your hands. You didn’t notice the way your nephew looked at Sebastian, no wonders, in the exact second when you opened the door, his expression changed completely, the image of innocent boy painted on his face once again. The boy happily jumped off the sofa and run to you to get his glass of juice, leaving the butler sitting still in the same place, completely confused.

“I see you were talking?” you asked him, handing your nephew a drink. “He is not that scary, isn’t he?”

The butler stood up to immediatelly help you with the salver.

“Oh no, you were completely right, my love,” he stated with a kind smile. “He is purely an angel.”


“You’re too short for her.”

Ciel almost spit out the tea he was currently drinking, hearing those words from the young boy who was so nice in your presence – until now, that is. He slowly put the teacup on the table and looked at your nephew who was now staring at him deadly.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard. You’re not much taller than me.”

The earl felt something similiar to the big bump growing in his throat, making him unable to speak nor think properly. He never had to deal with such situations before, not to mention with somebody – willing or not – close to him. In any other moment he would just walk away or demand getting rid off those who dare to insult him in so humiliating way, today was different and the hardest was that he had to be nice to the child sitting on the sofa. It is your nephew, he repeated himself in the mind, he can complain to you later.

What occupied Ciel’s thoughts the most was the reason why would he say something like that? Obviously, he didn’t want to insult him in front of his dear aunt but nevertheless he hadn’t given him any reason to act this way. He was a little bit proud, of course, but it couldn’t be the exact reason for this behaviour.

Not to mention that for the whole time he was spending with your relative, he was wearing those short heels which made him appear taller than he truly was. Is it possible that he was that short…?

Ciel cleared his throat.

“The height is irrelevant in an adult relationship, you will understand when you grow up,” he stated seriously, not wholly convinced about the truth of his own words.

“But you’re not an adult.”

If there would be somebody who could read in minds, he would certainly hear Ciel snap in this moment.

“Of course I am,” Ciel objected. “I am the head of the Funtom Corporation, the head oh the Phantomhive household, it makes me be an adult no matter how old I am.”

“But it doesn’t make you taller.” Vicious smile creeped upon the young boy’s lips who couldn’t not notice the change in Ciel’s attitude and tone of his voice.

“I-It is highly inappropriate to say such things to an earl,” he stuttered and immediatelly cursed himself internally for that.

What kind of child was it? Where did you take him from? And why the hell weren’t you coming back for so long? He had more than enough and didn’t want to participate in this conversation anymore.

“You’re my aunt’s boyfriend, I can speak what I want.”

Your nephew started slowly waving his legs hanging from the sofa and this only proved that he was having a great time. Ciel opened his mouth and quickly closed it, not wanting to offend the child but wishing he could shut his mouth with one, strong command which made him seem like a carp picked out of the water. However, for the next minutes the boy was quiet which let Ciel believe that he is done with insulting him and his problem was solved by itself. He quickly changed his mind when he heard him muttering something more under the breath.

“And you wear heels like a girl.”

“W-what?!”

This was originally an answer to an question meme who asked for introduction of an OC I never talk about and a tragic backstory (it’s about Senros btw), but it got out of hand and I’m making a new post to introduce to you:

Alain Rosiere

Oh boy I invented this character 9 years ago, I will have to restrain myself to the basic here.

First allow me to give a basis on his background I’m actually making a if comic with my original story but frankly this is extra info mostly.

In their (when I say “their” I mean Senros and Theon) original story - Sempiterno - I have three main categories of beings in that world plus two subdivisions for each. The categories are The Entities (divided in Monaramis and Sempiternus), Sapiens (divided in Ariscos and Magos) and Seres(divided in Salver and Faunica). Anyways, there are tons of species and races inside each division I won’t explain them all here but the middle species who are arrogantly names Sapiens are the dominating one in earth territory, they are mostly human and sometimes humanoid.

Keep reading

Possible scenarios to season 4: part 1
  • we are in a giant hall. marble walls, chandeliers, tall vaulted ceiling. The fancy crowd is either sitting at small tables or standing and chatting, holding drinks. The women in luxury dresses. the men in elegant suits. There's a stage standing after the crowd and on it there's a band playing classical music.
  • we cut from the crowd and are viewing from behind a fancy buffet, at the backs of two men standing in front of it. One is tall with black curls and an impressive posture, the other is shorter with light brown hair.
  • we cut to their fronts and encounter Sherlock Holmes and John Watson, both in tuxes and bow ties.
  • John: look as all these women!
  • Sherlock: careful John, you're a married man.
  • John: oh shut up. How the hell are we going to find this woman? she could be anyone!
  • Sherlock: well she's certainly not that bearded man i the blue suit. unless she's really good...
  • John: *anxiously fixes his tie* why did Mycroft have to send us here as waiters? couldn't he give us fake IDs or... a special card or something
  • Sherlock: I asked him to.
  • John: why?
  • Sherlock: It's essential for my plan.
  • John: and in what point are you going to let me in that plan?
  • Sherlock: now seems like an appropriate time. (raises his look, observing the crowd in concentration) The woman we're looking for...
  • *FLASHBACK*
  • Mycroft: we were informed of the existence of a woman. we suspect she's working for the Swiss, but we can't know for sure and we're not interested in any cooperation. we suspect she's holding information our best agents weren't able to find.
  • Sherlock: you really have to start filtering your agents better, they're terrible.
  • Mycroft: she has no idea the information she's holding is valuable. No one knows but us. and we'd like to keep it that way.
  • Sherlock: so you want me to talk to her.
  • John: how? you don't even know who she is.
  • Mycroft: we know she's be attending a gala next week. find her. find out what she knows. without reveling any connection to the British government. this is crucial.
  • *BACK TO PRESENT*
  • Sherlock: There are people here who are far to known to be a Swiss secret agents, so that goes. This woman can't be married or have children or pets, and she's probably not over 50, so that eliminates some more...
  • *the crowd from Sherlock's point of view. people disappear as he excludes them*
  • John: No, you can't possibly narrow it all down.
  • Sherlock: Not all of it, probably, but most. You may have noticed that I've been studding dress catalogs lately?
  • John: oh yeah, I though you were developing a new interest.
  • Sherlock: an undercover agent could never afford to buy an expensive dress, While most women in these sort of events are dying to show off their wealth. I've memorized catalogs of all top designers in fashion. that woman over there?
  • *cut to woman in a white dress with flowers pattern*
  • Sherlock: Dior, 10,000 dollars. No way it could be her. same applies for 20 other woman in this room.
  • *a major amount of women vanishes from the crowd*
  • John: Sherlock, there's no need to make excuses. If you want to look at dresses, I won't judge you.
  • Sherlock: Shut up. and now for some final adjustments...
  • *captions appear over the remain women. "OCD nail biter" - gone. "desperately in love with an older man" - gone. "chronic back problems" - gone. more and more women pop out of the crowd*
  • Sherlock: we are down to four options.
  • *four women, in different locations around the hall, remain frozen mid-action*
  • Sherlock: time to act.
  • John: Okay, what do we do?
  • Sherlock: *takes the champagne salver from the table and hands it to confused John, and then takes the shrimps salver* I need you to go over to these two women, blonde-in-blue-dress in the center, and the one in the black dress and long hair. I'll go to the other two.
  • John: what, and - offer them a drink?
  • Sherlock: yes. and look closely. try to see if any of them acts suspicious in any way. we'll meet back here with our findings.
  • John: wait - "act suspicious" ? what do you mean?
  • Sherlock: anything strange. even the slightest gesture.
  • John: How the hell am I supposed to know your definition of strange?
  • Sherlock: you'll know it when you see it. Now go, quick!
  • *Sherlock rashes off before John can say anything. frustrated, John sighs then starts walking towards the first woman, carefully trying to balance the salver in his hands*
  • John: *mutters* of course he had to give me the harder one...
  • *as he reaches the woman, who had just had a laugh with the the man she was talking to, she turns around and notices him*
  • John: fancy a drink?
  • woman: oh, thank you! *takes a glass from the salver and turns back to continue her conversation*
  • *John continues to walk towards the woman in the black dress, with a mane of wavy dark hair that goes down her waist. The woman is standing with her back to him, so he doesn't see her face*
  • John: would you like a drink?
  • *The woman doesn't answer. then, without making the slightest turn towards him, she slowly sands out her hand and leave it hanging, awaiting.
  • John: *tensed, places a glass in her hand. still not saying a word, the woman gently rests her hand back down.
  • nervous, John turns back and spots Sherlock at the table. He hurries to get there, relieved to put down the salver.*
  • Sherlock: *eagerly* did you find anything?
  • John: *nods* it's the one in the black dress. She didn't say a word. she didn't even move, I couldn't see her face.
  • Sherlock: Perfect. *quirky smile* now, you wait here. I'm going to escort her out of the room, wait two minutes then follow me.
  • *imperturbable, Sherlock starts pacing slowly over to the woman. It appears she doesn't notice, but something in her back stiffens. then, as Sherlock gets closer, she starts walking away, with measured steps, towards the exit.
  • Sherlock picks up his pace, almost unnoticeably, but not to the woman, who switches to a fast walk. John realizes something is wrong. Then she begins to run and time slows down, as her hand let go of the champagne glass and the liquid seems to float out in the air.
  • the glass shatters on the ground, and time turns back to normal as Sherlock bursts out running, followed immediately by John. People gasp and turn their heads as the three rush through the crowd. "excuse me," John automatically says as he pushes people away, trying to reach Sherlock and the woman, but they've already stormed out of the hall doors.*
  • *after chasing her through a few corridors Sherlock finally reaches the woman. He grabs her by the shoulder and turns her around.
  • Irene Adler: Hello mister Holmes.
  • *Sherlock flinches as he meets the face looking back at him. panting from the chase, he stares at Irene with concealed shock, agitated, as Irene stares back, her face showing the same mix of painful feelings.*
  • *theme music starts playing*.
3

On the Monday afternoon, taking it easy before I met up with the lads and went out for a meal, there was a knock on my hotel room door in Dubai. It was Lucas Leiva, one of my many good friends in the squad. Lucas asked if he could come in for a moment. ‘I’ve got a little something for you,’ he said. ‘Of course,’ I said. I was always happy to see Lucas. He presented me with a silver salver. It was from him to me and he had written the words inscribed on the plate. ‘I’ve been thinking about getting this done for a while,’ Lucas said. I felt a lump in my throat as I read his message.

“We often hear the expression there will never be another. In your case, my friend, it is most definitely the case. A Captain, leader, and a legend in every sense of the word. Every moment I have spent on the pitch with you has been a privilege. The very best to you and your family with all your future endeavors.”

I just about held it together while Lucas quietly watched me read his words. I thanked him and he smiled happily. We hugged it out. But once he left, I was gone. There was no stopping my tears.  

Steven Gerrard: My Story

The Artist’s Studio: Lady Hazel Lavery with her Daughter Alice and Stepdaughter Eileen (1909-1913). John Lavery (Irish, 1856-1941). Oil on canvas. National Gallery of Ireland.

Hazel Lavery is fashionably dressed in a feathered turban and richly coloured silk and satin Paisley coat. Alice is seated in a basket chair, while Eileen leans gracefully across the grand piano. Aisha, their maid, is seen entering the room bearing a salver of fruits. Reflected in a mirror, his palette and brush clearly visible, Lavery paints himself studying the group of figures he is portraying.

KYLUX AU TIME

Kylo! Captured by Slavers!

  • Hux begrudgingly has to go rescue his ass after getting all the fine print details of his capture. Of course you got your ass sold into the sex slave trade, you ass. 
  • So Hux dons his most respectable civilian clothing and goes undercover to buy his least favorite co-worker back. I’m not saying Snoke makes him do it, but Snoke totally shames him into doing it.

Hi-jinx ensue, including but not limited to:

  • Lap dances
  • the salvers forcing Kylo to show off his ‘talents’– the slavers ARE looking to sell Kylo cause he’s a massive pain in their asses. 
  • Kylo being put in aptly risque clothing suitable for a sex slave with a shredded 8 pack
  • When any of this is removed, he’s all but naked in front of Hux. my isn’t that inconvenient. And this is ofc, not made more awkward because they’ve been harboring secret hate-crushes on each other. Nope.
  • Kylo. Naked In front of Hux. Both of them blushing and having to hide this from the slavers who are probs getting suspicious. 
  • They, ofc, have to pretend to totally not know each other. This is especially hard for Hux who is dying on the inside with each missed opportunity to call Ren out when he’s being an asshole. 
  • Ren being especially sassy with Hux and Hux having to bite his tongue, cause he really just needs to buy back Kylo. Kylo using the entire situation to piss Hux off. Kylo you are literally in chains you should NOT be enjoying this.
  • The slavers know/find out that Kylo is force sensitive, and use this at the last minute to jack up the price– riiiight as Hux was about to seal the deal. This pisses Hux off to no end. 
  • Hux realizes that to pay the price the slavers want he will have to part with something terribly important. He and Kylo both realize this. Hux knows Kylo is totally worth it. Both to him personally and so he doesn’t get his ass kicked by Snoke. 
  • He also doesn’t want Kylo to know he thinks he’s worth it, so instead Hux is like fuck it, and decides the best plan in order is to make a half cocked attempt to run for it. 
  • They manage to escape, just barely. They are still terribly at working together in any sort of functional way, while simultaneously making an incredible evil dynamic duo.