Very very long AN: Hello again! Long time no see. Although I have not written in a very long time, I am still receiving Emails from , which really makes me very happy. It has become somewhat a resolution of mine to put my only talent to use once again and provide some entertainment for you, good people of the internet. I really will try to update more, as it seems a good few of the old faithful have been missing me. I'd like to introduce some new people to my writing as well, as the fandom will have undoubtedly grown since I was last writing. I hope you still enjoy what I am writing and let's see where we can go from here. Thank you all very much for motivating me to get writing again. Not only fanfiction, but also some of my own work that I have been making progress with for a couple of months now. Thanks.
I will also be taking requests now. If you have a little plot, maybe, or a scene you would like me to do or even a fic you would like me to have a go at continuing feel free to leave a review somewhere or send me a message. You can also message me if you'd be interested in roleplaying with me.
I've been thinking a lot about Maylene and the more I think about her, the more I'm beginning to feel sorry for her. It seems like she gets a lot of shit from the fandom for coming in between Sebastian and Ciel, so I thought that maybe I would like to explore her character a little more. Madam Red is one of my favourite characters, there is a distinct lack of yuri in the fandom, and with Maylene's reddish hair... this is what I've come up with. Here, Maylene is from a noble family rather than being a maid and is passing through London and taking the time to stay at Madam Red's house. This is purely to get insight into her actual characterisation rather than portraying her as the generic clumsy maid.
In regard to the use of the male pronoun for Grell: I always use the male pronoun for Grell. The main reason for this is simply because I have always referred to Grell as "he." I've been a fan of Kuroshitsuji for almost two years now and it's just a little too odd for me to change my habits now. I fully support the LGBT community and am aware that Grell is trans, but in Kuro he's usually referred to as "he" by the other characters. Plus the fact that in this fic he is taking his role as the male butler (although the Jack the Ripper plot still stands here.) I have every respect for the trans community, but by referring to Grell in the male pronoun I wish to reflect the mood of the time. This was Victorian England, remember. Not exactly supportive of the LGBT community.
Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji or any of its characters.
Warnings: Yuri. This means girlxgirl. If you do not like, please do not read. Rating may go up.
-Red on Red-
Clunk.
"O-Oh... I'm so, so sorry, Madam." Flustering, the young girl wrung her pale hands helplessly, staring at the statue that she had just knocked to the floor with her skinny elbow. She had only been with the beautifully imposing woman for three hours and already, it seemed, she was making a fool of herself. Her father would be ashamed of her if he knew what a poor guest she was being, and what a hassle she was causing the renowned Angelina Durless, or, as she was better known as, Madam Red.
Maylene was surprised when she heard a rich chuckle from behind her.
With a rustle of red skirts and a soft scent of rose petals, Madam Red stood beside her in a heartbeat. Maylene thought she saw the oddly timid butler stir slightly, as though about to come forward, but with a sharp look from Angelina, he spluttered and left the room without another room. Leaning down, the woman drenched in red lifted the fallen sculpture and ran her nimble fingers over it, checking for any fault and Maylene was suddenly aware that when her hostess bent over in such a way, she was presented with a perfect view of the woman's ample bust. She blushed immediately for even allowing such lecherous thoughts to cross her mind. "No harm done," Madam Red clarified in a soft murmur, before replacing the statue to its perch atop a bookcase. The curious, burgundy eyes locked on the young girl before them.
"I... I... hn. I'm sorry..." Maylene offered again, casting her eyes at the ground in discomfort and wishing for nothing more than the ground to swallow her at that instant.
"As I said, no harm done," Angelina responded with a small smile, which could almost be classed as a smirk. "You do seem to suffer from your moments of clumsiness."
A violent blush claimed the girl's face and she suddenly realised that she was very close to the wall, and her hostess was very close to her. Searching for some form of support – anything – she clutched at the red drapes beside her hand, her lips twitching in an effort to form a response. "I... I'm hopeless, Madam," she squeaked in resignation.
With a hearty chuckle, the woman stepped closer; so close that Maylene was certain she could feel the warmth emanating from her hostess against her chest. One gloved hand came up to rest against the wall next to her head. Maylene could now clearly smell the scent of rose petals, now realising that it was mingled with a hint of soap. The scent was clear and noticeable, but not overpoweringly so. It seemed to take all her self control not to slip into a daze and lean closer, closer to that scent and her hostess. "I'm sure that's not true," the woman murmured and Maylene found her eyes drawn to the plump rouged lips before her, evidently painted with precision. Pearly teeth brushed them softly with the shape of every word. "You have provided me with very pleasant company since you've been here."
"N-No... I'm... I can't do anything," the smaller breathed in exasperation.
As though it were some great secret, Angelina leaned in closer to the girl so as to speak in her ear. "Not true." Maylene could feel the hum of the woman's voice against her sensitive ear, the vibrations speeding up her heartbeat, for some reason.
"A-Ah..." swallowing hard, the realisation of where she was and who she was pressed up against came flooding back to Maylene. She discovered that she was in fact trembling and her palms were unpleasantly clammy. If her father found out about this... She cringed. He would never forgive her and she would be a disgrace to the family. They would think her such a slut, to react in such a way to her hostess. Her hostess being the operative word; another woman. Not only a slut, but a sinner as well. She would be arrested. Her and Madam Red. She would be disowned. Her breath caught in her throat and she shivered, feeling terribly vulnerable and ashamed. She could still feel the warmth of Madam Red's breath against her jugular and panicking, she quickly slipped from the confines of the woman's arms.
Confusion clouded Angelina's face, the perfectly arched eyebrows furrowing as she observed the girl in front of her, who now looked rather pale and generally unwell. "Are you alright?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
Maylene fumbled, tripping over her words and seemed to find it difficult to string a sentence together. "I... yes, I'm fine Madam, I just... I'm sorry, I can't." Without further explanation, the girl turned and ran from the sitting room, her footsteps growing softer as she rapidly ascended the stairs. Turning to lean back against the wall, Angelina sighed deeply. Perhaps it was wrong of her to be so persistent with the girl. Perhaps Maylene did not feel the same way she did...
Glancing up, Angelina saw the owlish glasses of her butler glimmering from the doorway, the "man" hovering outside and peering in at her in an act of bashfulness. As soon as he realised he had gained her attention, however, the meek frown melted away into a feral grin and a rich chuckle left the butler's lips. A purr sounded from him. "Madam..."
"Not tonight, Grell," she sighed. "Tonight I simply wish to go to bed."
A pout of disappointment formed on the butler's lips and he clucked his tongue at his mistress. "Do not tell me that girl has bothered you. She is only one fish in a very vast ocean, Madam... you still have me, of course..."
Angelina's responding scowl was enough to quiet him momentarily. "I said nothing of the sort, did I? Don't assume things."
The butler smirked. "Perhaps I know Madam better than she thinks."
"Enough, Grell! I simply want to get to bed."
Slipping back into the role of the meek butler, the shinigami gave a slight dip of his head, before following his mistress upstairs to prepare her for bed.
xXx
Maylene tossed and turned, fretting in her sleep. For some, sleep is a release from the stresses of the day. For Maylene, it was when the stresses of the day took their toll on her troubled mind. Sitting up straight in bed after having been awoken from a recent nightmare, she clutched at the bed sheets with an unsteady hand. She pulled her knees up close to her chest, worrying her lower lip. She did not want to leave the security of her room, but she did not want to sit alone in the dark either. Finally, taking a deep breath, she kicked the covers away from herself and stood, leaving the room on unsteady feet.
When she had first arrived at the house of Madam Red, Angelina had rigorously drummed it into her head that she was...
Five doors down the hall, the first on your left.
A slight smile crept onto Maylene's face as she remembered how the woman had flustered about her and her heart warmed at the thought. The smile quickly fell, however, when she remembered about the events of the evening. The lady would think her such a terrible fool, she was sure of it, she worried as she knotted her hand into the fabric of her night gown.
She was getting closer to Angelina's door now, slowly but surely. When she finally reached her destination, she hovered. Her feet were beginning to chill and she shuffled in discomfort where she stood. The moonlight was soft through the window, casting a glow over her feet. Frowning, she realised that she could not simply stand out on the landing all night, though she felt equally unable to return to her empty room and the nightmares. Raising a trembling fist, she rapped gently on the door. At first she was unsure of whether or not her hostess had heard the knocking and was about to knock again before the door swung open.
Angelina Durless stood at the door, her face clean from the makeup of the day. Without her lips shining with her signature red lipstick, her face was open and innocent and seemed younger than it had previously. Her bright hair stood up at interesting angles and one pale hand clutched her gown close around her front. Her burgundy eyes widened slightly in surprise.
"Maylene," she stated, seemingly forgetting any formalities.
"...Madam," Maylene mumbled in response, once again shuffling in her odd little pattern on the moonlit floor. Angelina ducked her head slightly, in an attempt to meet the girl's gaze.
"Can I help you?"
Letting her breath escape in a short sigh, Maylene gathered her courage and looked up at her hostess. "I... I had a nightmare." Blushing furiously, she expected the woman to laugh at her. Scared of a silly nightmare. The woman, however, did no such thing. She gave a small albeit warm smile.
"Would you like to join me for a little while?"
Maylene swallowed hard at the offer and Angelina stood back a little from the doorway, allowing her room to enter. With a tiny, relieved smile, the girl nodded. "Yes please, Madam." When she stepped into Angelina's bedroom, she was immediately assaulted by the woman's scent which seemed to seep from every object and every wall. Resisting the urge to breathe deeply and take in as much of that scent as she could, she cast her gaze around the room, her heart fluttering slightly at the idea of being surrounded by so many of the woman's personal things. The room was lovely, and very fitting as it seemed just as drenched in red as its owner.
"Have a seat," Angelina offered, gesturing to the bed she had just left.
The girl lowered herself down onto the disturbed covers of the bed, tangling her hands into her nightgown once again. As expected of Madam Red, she wore a long, low-cut gown for sleeping. Maylene flushed, suddenly feeling that she would never be able to escape feasting her eyes on the woman's provocative way of dressing.
"Now," the woman began, sitting down on the bed next to her charge, "Would you like to tell me what this nightmare was about?"
"Oh..." Maylene cleared her throat, averting her eyes. "I don't want to trouble you. In fact, I shouldn't have come to you in the first place... I shouldn't have disturbed you... my father would-" She was suddenly cut off at the feeling of another warm hand covering her own.
"You don't need to apologise." The woman chuckled, "What sort of hostess would I be if I couldn't ensure my guests are comfortable?"
With a small smile, Maylene opened her mouth to speak. "Well... it was nothing, really. Demons and that sort of thing..." she frowned.
Angelina smiled. "I can assure you there are no demons in my house."
"Oh!" Maylene's eyebrows rose. "Oh, no, I didn't mean-" Once again, she was interrupted. This time, however, it was by the woman's gentle laughter. "That... was a joke, wasn't it?" she enquired with a sheepish smile.
"Yes, it was." For the second time since they had been introduced, Angelina leaned closer to her little guest and this time Maylene was certain that she could feel the warmth of her hostess' body against her own. The thought set her heart fluttering, but she found herself to be unable to pull away. A pair of soft, plump lips brushed against her cheek gently. She had expected that she would have been awkward and embarrassed after such an action, but instead she found herself smiling, a light blush resting on her cheeks.
"That blush is rather lovely on you," Angelina commented. "Red suits you nicely." Maylene grasped for words, but before she could say anything in return, her hostess spoke again. "You look rather tired. Perhaps you would like to lie down here for a little while."
"I... I suppose I am a little tired now, Madam..."
xXx
When Grell came in to wake his mistress the next morning, he came to a brisk halt when he saw the small girl lying in bed next to his mistress. Both were sleeping soundly, the guest's head resting against Angelina's shoulder, the sounds of their soft breathing the only noise in the room. A few strands of the girl's hair were mingled with his mistress' own short locks, the colours mixing nicely. Red on red.
Well, I may continue this but I may not. Depends on how much people like the idea. We'll see! I think I'll go and write some Godchild fanfic now.